The Rhythm of Reflection: From Static Expert to Dynamic Process

Jonathan Reams

The “Big Idea” Summary

Reflection is not just a review of the past; it is the active updating of the brain’s predictive model, allowing us to see the “self” and its actions not as a fixed entity to be defended, but as a dynamic process to be refined.

In our last essay, we left the harbor. We took our compass (the goal) and our map (distinctions) and we sailed onto the high seas (the experiment). We embraced the clunkiness. We gathered data.

Now, the meeting is over. The adrenaline from trying an experiment is fading. The existing system of expectations takes center stage urging you to move on to the next task, be it a crisis, the next email, or the next fire to put out. This is the low energy consumption habituated path of the known and familiar. Part of the brain wants to wash away the disconfirming data you just collected and return you to the status quo. It’s inertia.

To maintain our momentum, we need to step back onto our balcony where we can observe the inertia and suspend it from hijacking our attention.

These are Steps 4 and 5 of the Learning Loop: Reflect and Revise. Here I am describing them together, as they can be highly intertwined. In other places I list them as distinct steps to elaborate on each more carefully.

While Step 3 was inquiry-in-action (noticing in real-time), this step is inquiry-on-action. It is the deliberate act of generating a slow-motion replay to see what actually happened. This might happen five minutes after a meeting, or it might be a quiet ten minutes of journaling later in the day. But without it, the experiment is just an event, not a lesson.

The Waterfall Flow of Reflection

How do we reflect without just ruminating? We use a structure I call the waterfall flow. It moves from the high-level intention down to the granular mechanics.

1. Why (The Will):
First, we check the compass. Did I stay aligned with my core intention? Did I remember why I wanted to practice this skill? Often, in the heat of the moment, our “will” gets hijacked by the socialized pressure to “look good” or “be right.” We need to honestly assess if we stayed true to prototyping the experiment or reverted to ‘performing.’

2. What (The Data):
Next, we look at the data. What actually happened?
This is where we use the navigator’s lens to slow down the recall. We aren’t looking for judgments (“I did a bad job”). We are looking for somatic markers and anomalies.

Did I feel tightness in my chest when I paused?
Did the other person lean in when I asked the question?
Did my silence create space, or did it create awkwardness?
Was there a mix of responses to sort out?

3. How (The Revision):
Finally, we ask: How do I update the model? This is where we intentionally reverse downward assimilation. If the experiment felt clunky, the brain’s temptation is to smooth it over—to say, “Well, that didn’t work, I’ll go back to the tried and true of my old way of doing that.” Instead, we use the prediction error to update our “priors,” (we touched on these in essays 1 and 3). We realize: “I predicted that pausing would make me look weak. The reality was that it made the other person speak more. My model was wrong.”

The Virtuality of Self

Practiced long enough, this process of updating our priors can lead us to a profound realization, one that sits at the heart of adult development theory. It can give us an advantage, an edge in our development by enabling more flexibility and agility.

We often operate from a view of ourselves as fixed entities. We think, “I am an expert,” or “I am a good listener,” or “I am not good at conflict.” We defend these components of identity because we believe they make up who we are.

But when we persistently engage in deep reflection, we start to see that these components of identity are just pieces of predictive models. They are constructs our brain built to navigate the world and survive.

This is the Virtuality of Self.

You are not a static statue, either born to lead or not. We often treat our identities like monuments to be defended, rather than software to be updated. This shift in metaphor allows you to see yourself as a dynamic process of meaning-making. Your identity is a collection of skills, habits, and predictions that are constantly evolving as they interact with the environment.

This concept can be incredibly liberating. If your “self” is virtual—if it is a map your brain drew—then it can be redrawn. You don’t have to defend your “expertise” when you make a mistake; you can just update your map. You move from being the object of your habits to being the subject who authors them.

The Reset Routine: A Practical Guide

So, how do we operationalize this? How do we turn this insight into a Tuesday afternoon habit?

We use a simple reset routine. After your experiment, take a moment, just a few seconds, to notice what happened. Then, later when you have some time, take five minutes to answer these four questions. Do not do this only in your head; write it down. The act of writing forces the brain to encode the learning.

1. What was the Prediction?
”I thought that if I waited for three seconds, the room would feel awkward and I would look unprepared.”

2. What was the Reality? (The Anomaly)
“I waited. It felt like an eternity to me (somatic marker: tight throat). But then Sarah spoke up and shared an idea when she usually keeps to herself.”

3. What is the Distinction?
”The ‘awkwardness’ I felt was actually ‘generative tension.’ I need to distinguish between ‘silence as awkward’ and ‘silence as spacious’.”

4. The Next Coordinate (Revision)
“For my next experiment, I will try this in a 1-on-1 meeting where the stakes are lower. I will focus specifically on relaxing my shoulders while I wait.”

Closing the Loop

By doing this, you have completed the cycle. You have taken a fuzzy intention, broken it down into distinctions, tested it and used the error to update your internal map.

You have not just “learned a tip.” You have re-wired a neural pathway. You have expanded your capacity. You have cleared a little bit more of the fog.

This is your work as a Bricoleur. It is humbling, iterative, and endless. But it is a great way to truly grow.

The Reflection Loop

The Identity Check: When you receive negative feedback or make a mistake, do you feel like your self is under attack? What would it feel like to view that mistake simply as a “bug” in the code of your virtual self?

The Inertia Audit: Notice how quickly you want to “move on” after a meeting. Try to pause for just 60 seconds to run a slow-motion replay of your experiment. What is one detail you missed in the heat of the moment?

The Next Loop: Look at your “next coordinate” from the exercise above. When is the very next opportunity you have to run that revised experiment? Put it on your calendar.