Most opinions don’t arrive fully formed. But there is an instant when they present.
There is usually another moment just before. A brief window when perception is still cloudy, when things haven’t been sorted. That moment is easy to miss, especially in a culture that rewards speed, certainty, and swagger.
Before the opinion, there is attention.
This is the part where we’re still noticing and processing. It’s quieter than reaction and less satisfying than conclusion. It's literally the calm before the storm. And it’s where understanding lives. The trouble is that we push past it to get to something productive. A hot take. An ironic stance. A response that signals alignment or intelligence.
Once an opinion drops, an alternate ending ensues. It begins organizing incoming information to support itself. Contradictions are dismissed. Context is trimmed. Over time, the opinion becomes harder to revisit.
This doesn’t mean opinions are bad. Everybody's got one. We need them to move through the world. But when they are a rush to judgement, they tend to be thinner. Staying with the moment before the opinion requires restraint. It means resisting the urge to perform certainty. It means letting ambiguity exist long enough to understand why it exists and what resolves it.
Before the opinion, there’s a chance to notice what might otherwise be passed over. To understand the conditions you’re actually dealing with. To choose words that fit rather than language that signals.
Those moments don’t ask for answers, they ask to be seen.