Instinct Over Influence

In Episode VIII of The Art of Clarity, we dive into the power of trusting your instincts over external influence. Join us as we explore how listening to your inner voice can lead to clarity and confidence in your decisions. Perfect for creatives and professionals looking to cut through the noise and find their authentic path.

Co-written by Doug Quigley.

Written and narrated by Gary Naccarato.

For more, visit theartofclarity.studio

If you enjoyed this episode, please follow, rate and review. Your support helps others find the show.

Topics include attention, focus, mindfulness, digital distraction, creativity, memory, and the impact of technology on the nervous system.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:15

Trust your gut. We've all heard that cliche, but is there any real meaning behind the statement? No one ever really explains what that means, at least not in simple terms. It's not mystical, it's not magic, it's something you feel before you can explain it. That itch before the scratch, that pull, that hesitation, and every once in a while something rises up, something clear, something immediate, undeniable. And for me, that's been there for a long time, for better or worse. I was eighteen, fresh out of high school with no real experience, kind of directionless, but in a good way, a youthful way. I had moved to Seattle by myself just trying to figure shit out. One day I'm driving past this massive hotel across the street from Seatac Airport. It's a huge place. Its size is a bit out of place, more Vegas than Seattle suburbs, and out of nowhere I had this thought. I'll be a bellman. That was it. I had no plan, no strategy, no idea that would even happen. But I pulled into the lot, parked my nineteen eighty Honda Civic hatchback, walked in like I owned the place, went up to the Bellman desk and asked if they were hiring. A tall, handsome guy, decked out in Bellman attire, right down to the Bellman cap, looks me over for a few seconds and then says Yeah, we actually are. Next thing I know I'm downstairs being fitted for a dorman uniform. Several months later I'm a full on Bellman, making more money than I probably should have been making at eighteen. Welcome to the Art of Clarity, a podcast about creativity, the nervous system, and the strange ways the modern world competes for our minds. I moved to Los Angeles in the mid nineties. I got here not long before the Northridge earthquake. Welcome to LA The place I landed at, they made short films for the Showtime Channel. I was a runner, and it felt exactly like it was a dead end. Then one day, someone mentioned that an executive producer at Propaganda Films was looking for an assistant. Now, if you were around then you knew what that meant. There was nothing like propaganda, no comparison. It was the center of everything. So I called, found the number in the LA four hundred one, called the front desk, asked for the commercial division. I asked if they were hiring, they said yes, an assistant position. I faxed my resume. If you could even call it that, janitor, busboy, intern, now runner, I remember standing there feeding the paper into the fax machine and just knowing not hoping, not wondering, knowing I'm getting this job. A few days later I'm sitting in an office in the commercial division. Interview starts. We hit it off immediately. Feeling confident and beginning to wrap it up, they said we have a questionnaire we want you to take. It was actually more like a test, not a skills test. It wasn't technical. It was basically are you interesting enough to be here? Or are you cool enough to work here? What restaurants would you recommend for an important lunch meeting? What are your favorite films? What music are you listening to? Books, clothing stores, favorite magazines and television shows, everything. It was ridiculous. But I was more than up to the challenge. You wanted a cool test, I'll give you a cool test. And I passed. A day or two later I was hired, my dream job, from a small town in Washington to one of the most creative environments in the world, just like that. And that year changed everything for me. Suddenly the bar was higher. Not because I had a master plan, not because I earned it in some traditional way, because I followed something before I could explain it. That same feeling, that instinct. And when I look back, that's been the pattern. Those decisions that don't make sense on paper or even rational thought, but feel completely right in the moment. Those are the ones that move everything forward. I didn't really understand that until I started working in creative environments, spending time on sets around directors, cinematographers, producers, people operating at a really high level. And there was one director in particular, someone highly respected and insanely talented. This wasn't someone still figuring it out, this was someone at the top of their game. And I began to notice something. Most directors rely heavily on their director of photography. If they don't get the exact DP they want, everything can start to feel compromised. A difficult DP and an insecure director can be a bad combination. Slowing a chute to a crawl, obsessing over lighting, over framing, over getting everything perfect. But this particular director was on another level. I remember arriving on set one morning not long after call time, the calm before the storm, breakfast burritos and bowls of Greek yogurt being finished up, coffee all around. And here comes the director. He walks on to set, looks around for a minute or two, his producer and DP close behind. Then he points. Put the camera here, he says. That's it. No discussion, no overthinking, no ten different versions or considerations. Within minutes they were rolling. I remember thinking to myself what is that? Because it definitely wasn't careless. It was precise. It didn't come from analysis, it came from instinct. He later said something that stuck with me. In so many words, I don't care who shoots for me as long as they're fast. Which in that world can be rare because more often than not everyone is striving for the perfect shot. But for him, speed comes from clarity, and clarity comes from trusting what you are feeling in real time. Not waiting, not second guessing, just knowing and moving. And that started to change something for me. I started noticing every time I would try and override my own instinct, when I would feel something immediately, and if I began to question it, polish it or try to improve it somehow, I'd check myself. Because more often than not that first instinct was right. Perhaps not perfect, but right enough. And if I tried to ignore it, the worst things would get softer, less clear, less alive for lack of a better term. And you see this in art all the time. I see it sitting across from people as well, that moment where they feel something clearly and then immediately start to question it. People talk about someone like Jackson Pollack that it's just chaos, that anyone can do that. Paint splattered everywhere, no plan. But it wasn't random, it was deeply instinctual. It was someone trusting timing, feeling, movement without needing to explain or contemplate at first, just following something internal. And I think that's where a lot of people get stuck now. Because when I talk to younger people or even people in their twenties, and I ask them simple questions What do you want to do? Where do you want to go? A lot of the time I'll get a shrug. They've never had to decide without input. And it's not their fault. There's too much noise, too many distractions, too many options, too many opinions. Everyone seems to be looking outward for direction instead of inward. And that internal beacon or instinct sometimes gets drowned out completely. And I think that's part of why trusting your gut feels so abstract now, because people aren't used to listening to it, or they don't trust it when they do. And I get it, because even now I'm still following that same internal instinct or gut feeling. With the first book I'm writing, with this podcast, with everything I'm building and dreaming of right now. And if I'm being honest, there isn't a lot of external proof yet that any of this is working. No this is it moment, no real external validation yet. And that's where doubt shows up, because now you are in that space, that space between instinct and the result. And that space can mess you up. It makes you question everything. Was my instinct real or was it just something I wanted to believe? I think Bowie may have said something along the lines of how do you know the difference between instinct and fear pretending to be instinct? And that is the real question, because they can feel the same. When I think about my life up until now, this rhythm has been a constant. That same feeling followed by acting, followed eventually by an opportunity presenting itself. It's happened too many times for me to dismiss it now. So even without proof, even without validation, that instinct is still there, and I choose to trust it, because the alternative is fear, and I've seen where that leads. This is Gary Naccarato, and this has been The Art of Clarity. Thanks for listening. If any of this resonated, feel free to share it or pass it along to someone who might need it. To learn more about my work or to get in touch, you can find me on my website. I'll see you next time.