Abstraction

Here is something most people never notice: a huge amount of your thinking is about things that don’t exist.

Not in a mystical sense. In a very practical sense. Your mind is constantly working with concepts — abstractions — that feel solid and real but that you can’t point to anywhere in the physical world.

“Success.” Where is it? Can you hold it? Can you show it to someone? You can show results, outcomes, numbers. But “success” itself is an idea your mind constructed. And the idea varies wildly from person to person. Your version of success and your neighbor’s version might have almost nothing in common.

“Failure.” Same thing. It’s a label the mind applies to certain outcomes. The outcome is real — you didn’t get the job, the business closed, the relationship ended. But “failure” is a story layered on top of the outcome. The outcome happened. “Failure” is the mind’s editorial.

The Problem with Invisible Abstractions

When you don’t notice that a concept is a concept, you treat it like a fact. And that’s where trouble starts.

“I should be further along by now.” The feeling of truth in that sentence is intense. But take it apart. “Should” — according to what standard? Who set the timeline? “Further along” — compared to what? To whom? The entire thought is built from abstractions, and none of them have been examined. It’s concepts all the way down.

Yet it feels as solid as “the sky is blue.” That’s the trick. The mind presents abstractions with the same conviction it presents perceptions. It doesn’t label them differently. It doesn’t flag “this is a concept” versus “this is a concrete observation.” Everything arrives with the same packaging.

So you walk around suffering over things that are essentially made up. Not made up in the sense of imaginary — these concepts point at real patterns, real experiences. But the concepts themselves are constructions. And constructions can be examined, questioned, and sometimes set aside.

Common Abstractions That Run People

“Enough.” Am I enough? Do I have enough? Have I done enough? The word “enough” implies a threshold, a line somewhere that you’re either above or below. Where is that line? Who drew it? When you look for it, you can’t find it. It’s a concept.

“Fair.” Something happened and it wasn’t fair. Fairness is an abstract idea about how things should be distributed or how people should be treated. It’s a useful concept for building legal systems. It’s a terrible concept for evaluating your own life, because reality doesn’t operate on fairness. Things happen. “Fair” is the mind’s commentary.

“Wrong.” Not wrong as in incorrect — wrong as in “there’s something wrong with me.” This one drives enormous suffering. But point to the wrongness. Describe exactly what it is. When people try, they end up describing specific things — behaviors, feelings, outcomes — not a general wrongness. The general wrongness is an abstraction draped over the specifics.

Concepts Aren’t Bad

Let me be clear. I’m not saying stop thinking in concepts. You can’t. Language is conceptual. Planning requires abstraction. Complex thought depends on working with ideas that go beyond what’s immediately visible.

The problem isn’t having concepts. The problem is not knowing they’re concepts. The problem is treating “I’m a failure” with the same certainty as “it’s raining.” One of those you can verify by looking out the window. The other is a construction that feels solid but dissolves under examination.

Here’s a quick test. If you can’t point to it, touch it, or perceive it directly with your senses — it’s probably an abstraction. “The table” is not an abstraction. You can knock on it. “My career” is an abstraction. It’s a label you’ve applied to a collection of activities, roles, and experiences. The activities are real. “My career” is a story you’re telling about them.

This becomes really important when abstractions start generating emotions. “My career is stalling” creates anxiety. But take it apart — what’s happening, concretely? You didn’t get a specific promotion. A specific project didn’t go well. Those are events. “Stalling” is the mind’s editorial, and the anxiety is responding to the editorial, not to the events.

When you can see a concept as a concept — when you can catch the abstraction happening — you have a choice you didn’t have before. You can use the concept if it’s useful. You can set it aside if it isn’t. You’re no longer at the mercy of every abstract idea your mind generates.

Today’s Practice

For the rest of today, watch for abstractions in your thinking. You don’t have to go looking — they’re everywhere. Just notice when your mind uses a concept word.

“Should.” “Shouldn’t.” “Success.” “Failure.” “Enough.” “Fair.” “Wrong.” “Right.” “Worth.” “Normal.”

Each time you catch one, just note it: that’s a concept. Not a fact. A concept. You don’t have to do anything about it. You don’t have to stop thinking it. Just see it for what it is.

By the end of the day, notice how much of your thinking was abstract. For most people, it’s the majority. That’s not a problem — it’s just something worth knowing about the mind you’re living with.