Don't Believe Everything You Think: Why Your Thinking Is the Beginning & End of Suffering

“The words in this book are not the truth; they point to the truth. Truth cannot be intellectualized; it can only be experienced. It is within everyone and everything. But you must look beyond the form (the physical) to see and experience the truth (spiritual).”

Many self-help books aim to offer secret wisdom that unlocks knowledge or experience reserved for a select few. Nguyen takes a completely different approach, offering his work as a means of pointing out what the reader already knows and is fully capable of achieving with or without him. He is simply there to point the way.

“Pain is unavoidable, but how we react to that pain is up to us, and that reaction will dictate whether or not we suffer. Now, I’m not saying that the difficult experiences we’ve been through are all in our heads. On the contrary, terrible and unfortunate things happen to people every single day. I’m saying that although we invariably experience pain in our lives, suffering is optional.”

The first key distinction that Nguyen makes is between pain and suffering. Pain is a physical phenomenon that exists objectively—the body recognizes it and responds accordingly. Suffering, however, is in the mind. This does not mean that suffering can or ought to be eliminated in all forms—there are plenty of legitimate causes for negative emotions. The key is not to let suffering take hold, and to realize that it is possible to manage it.

“Without our usual thinking about a particular event, our experience of it completely alters. And with this understanding, we’ve arrived at the truth I discovered after all those years of searching. The root cause of our suffering is our own thinking.”

While reality has an objective existence outside of the observer, no one is capable of simply seeing the world as it is. They are invariably shaped by their perceptions and interpretations. The key to happiness is to remain mindful of one’s own perceptions, realize their subjectivity, and adjust them so that they do not have an unnecessarily adverse effect on one’s own happiness.

“At that moment, [the monk] remembered his master’s question: ‘Do you know what is really making you angry?’ Now he knew he had his answer. ‘It’s not other people, situations, or circumstances. It’s not the empty boat but my reaction to it that causes my anger. All the people or situations that upset me are like the empty boat. Without my reaction, they don’t have the power to make me angry.’”

Nguyen relies frequently on parables from Zen Buddhism. Here he tells the story of a monk who was constantly getting angry at distractions that occurred when he was trying to meditate. The monk ultimately learns that it is not the things themselves, but his reaction which creates distraction. Since he can control his reaction, he can decide whether to be angry or whether to remain at peace as the world exists around him.

“Our minds evolved to fear being judged or doing the wrong thing in order to remain accepted by others and not get kicked out of the tribe. Because of this, we sacrificed our individuality and uniqueness to fit in. We learned to not be too different or weird because it might result in us being ostracized. While this may have helped us survive, it also cost us our peace and happiness. Although our brains are still hardwired this way, we no longer live in a world where social acceptance means life or death. Losing a social bond may be painful, but it no longer means we have to fend for ourselves in the world.”

Nguyen summarizes why the mind evaluates threats: it has been conditioned to conform and avoid social ostracization. This aligns with how excessive thinking—in this case about what others think—is the cause of suffering. Nguyen explains why thinking occurs—not because one is at fault, but because they are following an evolutionary function, albeit one that no longer suits their current condition.

“A simple way to recall the distinction between thoughts and thinking is to remember that thought is a noun and isn’t something that we do but something we have. Thinking, on the other hand, is a verb and is something we do. It’s the act of engaging with our thoughts.”

Nguyen argues that a person is naturally in harmony with the universe. Since thoughts are nouns, they are things that exist within the overarching framework of nature. Since thinking is an action, it implies a person undertaking their own movement—not within the physical world, but against the currents of the universe. It is therefore a movement that results in disequilibrium.

“Thoughts are intrinsically neutral. But the moment we begin thinking about our thoughts, we get taken on an emotional roller coaster. This is what I mean when I say that thinking is the root of our suffering. The initial thought of your dream didn’t cause any suffering until you began thinking about the thought.”

One of the consistent ideas of the book is how to pursue a goal or dream without the kind of foresight and planning that one typically associates with thinking. Nguyen gauges the dream in terms of its emotional reaction. To imagine the thing is normally a pleasant endeavor, but the more it gets broken down into steps, the more wearisome it becomes. The goal is to stay as much as possible in the realm of creative thought, which inspires, and away from analytical thought, which demoralizes.

“The truth is that you do not have to have thoughts or think to feel positive emotions. Positive emotions are not a byproduct of thinking but the organic result of being fully in the present moment and connected to life rather than thinking about it. These feelings we desire are already within us. We don’t have to try to force them. We only don’t feel them when we begin thinking about separating ourselves from this source.”

“Positive thinking” has been a hallmark of the self-help genre for decades, infusing readers with the belief that proper thinking can unlock all manner of spiritual and even material benefits. Nguyen suggests that a person is still the main source of their own happiness, but not through thinking. They do not need to conceive of a way to be happy within their minds because the path to happiness already lies within and emerges through intuition.

“This may surprise you, but we don’t have to do anything to minimize our thinking; we only have to become aware of it and choose to let it go rather than hold on to it. Most of us have been conditioned to ‘fight’ our thinking, which only worsens things and leads to the agonizing experience we call ‘overthinking.’ The solution is not about doing more but about not doing what’s causing the suffering. It is not a process of force but one of flow.”

Nguyen’s central piece of advice is that to be happy, one must learn to reduce one’s thinking, and this is actually quite easy to do. One may feel as though their mind is completely in control, but one does not have to master the mind. They need only learn not to heed it and realize that there are other, far more effective sources of internal guidance.

“What was happening during the practice was that I wasn’t thinking. But as soon as the session ended, I began thinking again, which is why all of the anxiety came back shortly after. It wasn’t that the modality didn’t work; rather, I was not addressing the root of the problem, so my thinking would always return and prevent the modality from continuing to work.”

Nguyen is quite friendly to methods such as meditation (he’ll elaborate on its uses later on, especially in the added material at the end of the book). However, he argues they will not be as effective if they fail to address thinking as the core problem. In that case, the activity is just a momentary distraction, without equipping the person with tools to control their thinking at any time, not just when engaged in an activity specifically designed for that purpose.

“In a state of flow, grounded in the present moment, we are free from the limitations of the ego and can create the most incredible things in the world.”

Nguyen states a core idea of the book, that thinking is not necessary for productivity or achievement. In fact, thinking is inimical to accomplishment because it involves self-doubt and over-analysis, whereas a creative process is rooted in inspiration and joy. To identify a project as something meant to stir happy emotions, rather than drudgery, is to unleash creative potential and create something far better.

“Ironically, if we achieve a goal created out of desperation, we end up feeling even emptier than before, so we set an even bigger goal and then an even bigger one, never reaching a state of fulfillment. No matter how hard we try or how big of a goal we set, it seems as though it will never be enough.”

The idea of a productive life seems antithetical to Nguyen’s goal of encouraging non-thinking, but here he states that it is quite the opposite. Goals born of thinking are likely to be “goals of desperation,” chasing the false idea that some sort of external benefit will make a person happy. In contrast, goals of inspiration affirm that happiness lies within, and that the mere pursuit of something can be deeply satisfying if it aligns with a person’s values and allows them to exercise their creative talents.

“What I mean is that there is not one correct path when navigating our personal decisions on this journey of life. Knowing there is no right or wrong relieves us of the pressure to choose the ‘right’ one.”

One may argue that Nguyen’s chapter title is deceptive—"good” and “bad’”  evokes moral categories, whereas the text of the chapter speaks much more of “right” and “wrong” in terms of appropriateness. What is right or wrong is what works or doesn’t work for a given person in a given situation, without needing input from the outside world. There are moral dimensions here, especially in terms of how certain aspects of morality reflect social construction. However, he is speaking about how a person can and should make their own choices, not that those choices have no meaningful ethical consequences.

“When you’re following your intuition, you’re tapped into something greater than yourself. You’re in a state of non-thinking and in direct connection with the Universe. Intuition is not a form of thinking. It’s a sense of knowing. You’re not thinking about what to do; you just know what to do.”

Although the book generally refrains from metaphysics, Nguyen elevates intuition into a nearly supernatural force, which when accessed properly can provide practically perfect guidance. He places greater emphasis on emotions than thoughts, and argues that intuition taps into a feeling of what is right or wrong rather than a rational evaluation. Intuition should be seen as much closer to nature and thus more valid. By linking intuition to the concept of “the Universe,” Nguyen is strongly implying that intuition has a direct link to true reality.

“We don’t have to work tirelessly to figure everything out. Even the people we deem geniuses knew that effort wouldn’t always produce their greatest discoveries. Just like how rest is required for us to perform our best, space is required to help us discover the best ideas.”

Nguyen cites the example of world-class athletes, as well as intellectual heavyweights like Friedrich Nietzsche and Albert Einstein, to show that the greatest achievements from come a state of non-thinking rather than overthinking. Just as athletes go into a “zone” where they are purely focused on the task at hand, great thinkers find their best ideas when they clear their minds for new thoughts. Ironically, our greatest thinkers were able to overcome thinking.

“Living life through non-thinking is accepting reality as it is instead of what we think it should be. The practice of non-thinking is about being deeply present and holding a space of non-judgment for everything that is happening in the world around us and within our minds. Through non-thinking, we can finally confront everything we are afraid of and no longer let those fears control us. Non-thinking is how we can let go of everything that isn’t reality to find peace.”

It is tempting to believe that shutting off the mind is disconnecting oneself from reality, but as Nguyen points out, the mind is the one part of the human experience which is least connected to reality. It is instead a product of the ego, telling a person what they ought to believe based on evaluations of the past and fears of the future. It is the least rooted in the present moment, where reality truly exists.

“We are all connected to this pure, unconditional love, which is the Universe, God, or whichever name you choose to use. The only thing that prevents this connection is our own thinking, which creates an illusion of separation from that unconditional love.”

After sharing a story about finding unconditional love in his own marriage, Nguyen offers this note about a love which simply is because it is, needing no reasons and accepting no limits. Marriage or another strong interpersonal bond are usually associated with unconditional love. Nguyen suggests that such love can and ought to be the norm for all people in their dealings with the world. Various religious concepts, such as a god or notion of a sentient cosmos, are ways of personifying this pure and blessed feeling.

“Once you receive something new from an insight, you cannot unsee it. Once your consciousness expands, it cannot contract again. We may forget from time to time and experience the suffering caused by thinking. But as soon as we become aware of this, we can find love, peace, and joy in the present.”

This generally optimistic book ends on the note that simply having read it is a step in the right direction. Nguyen suggests that there will be many challenges ahead, but that the guidance contained in the book is common sense, readily applicable to people’s daily lives: The reader can put down the book in the confidence that they are ready to take on the world’s challenges with inner peace and resilience.