mrpink essays

The DEQ Matrix and Cold Water

How changing the way we talk to ourselves can transform our relationship with work, desire, and purpose.

The way we talk to ourselves defines the world we inhabit.We don’t describe reality as it is, but as we interpret it. And those interpretations often not only organize our lives—they condition them.

For a long time, I looked for ways to better understand why I do what I do. Along the way, I developed a kind of internal framework that helps me observe my own decisions. I call this structure the DEQ Matrix, from the initials of Debo (Duty), Emerge (Emergence), and Quiero (Desire).

DEQ: Duty, Emergence, Desire

We all make decisions from different places. Sometimes, from what we believe we must do: social mandates, commitments, external or internal rules we carry unquestioned. Other times, from what simply emerges: fleeting emotions, impulses, likes or dislikes that appear without warning and drag us along. And in the best cases, from what we truly want: a conscious choice, connected with our purpose, our current priorities, what we consider important.

The value lies in distinguishing among these three layers. Not to judge them, but to know where we’re acting from—and decide whether we want to stay there or move.

The DEQ Matrix in action

This matrix crosses three key dimensions:
- Duty (belief)
- Emergence (emotion)
- Desire (decision)

Each intersection places us in a type of action or inner dilemma, and suggests a possible response. It’s not a formula, it’s a compass. It helps us see whether we’re acting from mandate, impulse, desire… or inertia.

When everything feels like an obligation

In my work—as in many others—there are tasks I enjoy and others I’d rather avoid. For a while, those “less pleasant” tasks felt like things I simply had to do. I anticipated them with discomfort. Just seeing them on my agenda would tense my body.

But over time, I realized that discomfort was often just a reflection of the past. Tasks that once felt strange or unpleasant didn’t necessarily feel that way anymore. Yet I kept interpreting them as burdens, without checking whether that interpretation was still true.

I also noticed something more important: I didn’t have to do them. No one was forcing me. They were decisions I had made myself, because I considered them important to move my projects forward. Maybe I didn’t feel natural desire to do them, but they weren’t imposed. I wanted to do them, even if they didn’t bring immediate pleasure. Shifting that frame—from “I have to” to “I want to”—reduced much of the suffering.

What about what emerges?

There’s another place we often act from, subtler but just as powerful: what emerges. Sometimes we feel like doing something, sometimes not. Sometimes there’s enthusiasm, other times we struggle even to begin. It’s easy to be carried away by whatever shows up in the moment. But desires are fickle. They don’t always align with what we want to achieve.

Still, we shouldn’t dismiss them. What emerges has value: it gives us signals. It connects us with the emotional, the animal. But if we let those emotions rule all our decisions, we lose direction. We live at the mercy of our moods.

The key, for me, is learning to read what emerges without being trapped by it. Sometimes I simply don’t feel like it. But I still want to do it. That tension is part of growing. Choosing what we want, even when what emerges doesn’t cooperate.

A concrete practice: cold water

One way I train this capacity is simple and challenging: cold water.

In winter, I go into the sea. Not because I must. Not because I feel like it. I want to. It’s a conscious decision. It helps me train the mind, strengthen the body, and reconnect with something deeper.

Each time I do it, sensations appear: resistance, doubt, that inner voice asking “why?”. But the more I practice, the more I notice that those emerging sensations can be tamed. That first automatic reaction can turn into enjoyment. That often, on the other side of discomfort, lies what I’m looking for.

Cold water is my graphic reminder that what emerges does not have to define what I choose.

Taming what emerges, revisiting what we must, choosing what we want

Part of inner work consists in designing conditions so that what emerges aligns with what we want. When we shape our environment, routines, relationships, and commitments from a more conscious place, we make it easier for emotions and impulses to align with our deeper desires. We stop depending so much on changing moods, and become more coherent.

We also need to develop the self-confidence and courage to revisit what we believe we must do. Many of those obligations we carry are not real. They are inherited ideas, rules that once made sense but may no longer apply. If we don’t question them, we risk living by a belief system that’s foreign, outdated, or irrelevant.

In the end:

- What I want is a present decision. The result of looking at my history, listening to my emotions, and choosing from there with clarity.
- What I must is an acquired belief, and like all beliefs, deserves to be questioned—not discarded automatically, but examined to see if it still serves me.
- What emerges is automatic, emotional, animal. But it can also be tamed. It’s raw material, not destiny. It’s available energy that, if we learn to work with it, can serve what we truly want.

Learning to live better might just be that:

Choosing with freedom, revisiting with honesty, and taming with patience.