Some truths arrive fully formed.
Immediate.
Certain.
Quietly clear.
We see something.
We feel something.
And the judgment comes,
not with struggle,
but with stillness.
This is the power of direct judgment.
When we know our preference—
not through logic,
not through lists,
but through the felt sense of “this.”
But not all judgments arrive this way.
Sometimes we circle around the truth.
We compare.
We measure.
We decide one thing is better than another—
and then infer what that must mean.
This is indirect judgment.
A decision built not from presence,
but from process.
And both matter.
Because in the tension between them,
we discover not only what we prefer,
but how we arrive at our preferences.
Direct Judgment: The Flame of First Knowing
Direct judgment is fast.
Not shallow, but intuitive.
We walk into a room and know which chair we’d sit in.
We hear two notes and know which moves us more.
We see a person’s face
and feel drawn,
or distant.
It is not reasoned—
but it is real.
This kind of judgment lives in the body.
It speaks in quiet certainty:
“I prefer this.”
“I trust this.”
“I want this.”
We may not know why—
but the knowing is steady.
Indirect Judgment: The Echo of Comparison
But sometimes,
the answer is not ready.
We hesitate.
We look from one thing to another.
We ask:
- Which is more effective?
- Which is more beautiful, in some definable way?
- Which would I recommend to someone else?
From this, we begin to build preference.
Not by sensing,
but by sorting.
Not by feeling,
but by reasoning.
And so the judgment becomes indirect—
not false,
but layered.
A conclusion reached
through reflection,
not instinct.
Why This Distinction Matters
The difference isn’t academic.
It’s deeply human.
Because sometimes,
what we say we prefer
(in a measured, indirect way)
doesn’t match
what we actually reach for
when we’re allowed to act.
We may rate one item higher in a survey
but choose the other in the moment.
We may recommend one path
but walk the other for ourselves.
This mismatch reveals
how judgment is shaped
not just by what we feel,
but by how we are asked to feel it.
Knowing What Kind of Knowing You’re In
To choose wisely,
we must learn to ask:
- Am I deciding directly—because it feels right?
- Or indirectly—because it makes sense when I compare?
- Is this my instinct speaking,
or the structure I’ve been placed inside? - Am I truly aligned—
or just aligning with the format of the question?
There is no right or wrong here.
Only awareness.
The more we notice,
the more we can trust
that our decisions are not just accurate—
but authentic.
A Closing Reflection
If you’re feeling torn between options—
one that feels right,
another that scores better on some imagined scale—
pause.
Ask:
- What do I know immediately?
- What have I reasoned out?
- Which voice, right now,
feels more like mine?
Because sometimes,
the most powerful truths
don’t arrive through comparison.
They simply arrive.
And other times,
it is only through the labor of contrast
that we uncover
a deeper alignment.
And in the end, direct and indirect judgments remind us
that knowing is not one thing.
Sometimes it lands like lightning.
Sometimes it builds like sunrise.
But both forms of judgment
hold something of our truth.
And when we learn to listen to not only what we choose,
but how we chose it—
we begin to see ourselves more clearly.
Not just in preference,
but in process.
Not just in answers,
but in awareness.