Brain Archives - Page 25 of 29

Reinvent the Wheel

March 3, 2014 by Joycelyn Campbell 2 Comments

Last spring when I was clearing stuff out of my apartment and garage, I noticed that none of my exercise equipment or paraphernalia ever made it into the recycle piles. I simply left it where it was without even considering letting go of it. I had to question the hands-off attitude since I hadn’t used any of that stuff in at least a couple of years. Then I realized that, of course, I intended to use some or all of it again…one of these days.

I had been thinking about getting back into strength training for several months. I already had a fold-up weight bench, two sets of dumbbells, and a program I had followed here in the privacy of my own home. So when I imagined doing strength training, I automatically thought of re-starting that program. That’s what I had done before. I knew how to do strength training.

The problem was I didn’t want to do that program; I didn’t want to do any program in the privacy of my home. I wanted to join a gym and work with a personal trainer. It took me a while to realize that the strength training program I had used in the past wasn’t right for me now. Holding onto the exercise equipment—and my belief that what I needed to do was what I had done before—was actually keeping me from doing what I wanted to do. In fact, it was keeping me from doing anything.

So I got rid of most of the exercise stuff, joined a gym, connected with a great personal trainer, and have been working out four times a week for the past four and a half months. I love it, and I feel great.

This wouldn’t be particularly interesting if were nothing more than a personal anecdote. But I’ve noticed I’m not the only one with this mindset. Two friends—one male and one female—both want to lose weight. Both successfully lost significant amounts of weight in the past. Both have grappled with the conviction that they know what they need to do, which is to replicate what they did in the past. And just like me and my desire to re-start a strength training program, that conviction has delayed their taking action.

Another friend wants to get a better handle on her day-to-day finances. She developed a system that she used in the past, and her first inclination was to go back to that system because it worked before. But she readily admitted that she didn’t really like it and didn’t particularly want to start using it again.

Whether it was exercising, losing weight, or keeping track of money, all of us got hung up on whatever we did that worked in the past and assumed that was the only way we could be successful in the present. Rather than using our past successes as motivation to figure out what would work now, we focused on the details of what we did before. We forgot that when we were successful the first time, we weren’t relying on past experience. We had to figure it out. (We also may have forgotten other failed attempts that preceded our successful ones.)

Our brains create the sense (illusion) of a continuous self. But our present self is not our past self, nor is it our future self. When we imagine that we “know how to do that” because it worked in the past, we forget we’re not that person anymore. Instead of trying to repeat what our past self did, we’re more likely to be successful if we start fresh—if we start by assuming we don’t know how to do that. Then we have an opportunity to find out what might work this time around.

Not Dead Yet

February 24, 2014 by Joycelyn Campbell Leave a Comment

Most of us, at one time or another (or maybe even incessantly), want to know why we are the way we are. Why do we do the things we do, think the way we think, and feel the things we feel. But wanting to know doesn’t mean we can know. And trying to come up with answers is a seductive but futile pursuit.

The unconscious brain, which drives this deep desire to know, is a pattern-detector and connection-maker. Sometimes the patterns it sees and the connections it makes are useful, such as in scientific or creative pursuits (or even in helping us remember where we put something). But the unconscious brain just as often sees patterns and makes connections where none exist. It’s notorious for jumping to conclusions.

The conscious part of the brain gets to accept or reject the connection offered up by the unconscious. If the conscious part of the brain (what we think of as “I”) accepts it, our brain turns that potential connection into a real one and sort of cements it into place. Now we have an explanation. Now we know that this caused that: some event, situation, or experience that happened in the past is the reason why we do, think, or feel some particular thing today.

Chances are considerably better than average that we’re wrong. There are far too many factors that have gone into making us who we are, the majority of which we aren’t even aware of. But even if we somehow did manage to figure it out correctly, so what?

There’s not much power in reasons or explanations. In fact the more reasons we come up with to explain why we are the way we are today, the less power we have. The more we insist on being nothing more than the effect of hundreds of thousands of causes, the less freedom we have to be, do, think, or feel anything different.

It’s as if we’re trying to replace our actual fluid and dynamic selves with stone replicas of ourselves. Instead of being here now, fully present, we’re busy trying to explain how we got here. Instead of trying to live, we’re trying to not-live. All of us will be cold and hard as stone soon enough. Let’s not hasten the embalming process while we’re still breathing.

4-Step Program for Reason Addicts

February 20, 2014 by Joycelyn Campbell 4 Comments

Believing that reasons are responsible for what we feel, think, and do is a habit of thought that has many characteristics of an addiction. We have to have reasons. We can’t imagine living without them. Coming up with a good reason for something is one of the most satisfying experiences we can have.

Even when we recognize–conceptually–that reasons don’t actually exist and that the reason habit is self-destructive and delusional, we still can’t just quit reasons cold turkey.

So here’s a 4-step program that may help.

Step 1

Admit that you can’t do (or not do) anything without having a reason for it.

I did (or didn’t do) Y because of X.

You can’t think, feel, or do anything other than what you think, feel, or do because reasons cause you to think and feel certain things—and do (or not do) the things you do. You are at the effect, and at the mercy, of all the causes surrounding you. You are powerless. A pawn in the Game of Life. (Too melodramatic? Not really.)

Step 2

Question the assumption that reasons have both an independent existence and a direct cause-and-effect relationship with what you think, feel, and do.

X happened, and so I decided to do (or not do) Y.

Take a deep breath. Insert yourself into the equation. When you take some responsibility, you also regain some of your autonomy and power. Notice your reaction.

Step 3

Recognize that no direct cause-and-effect relationship necessarily exists between what happens (or what happened–especially in the far distant past) and what you think, feel, or do.

X happened and I did (or didn’t do) Y.

When you stop habitually turning situations, events, conditions, encounters, and incidents into reasons, you reclaim even more of your power. Notice that far more possibilities exist than you may have previously recognized.

Step 4

Free yourself from the habit of creating reasons to justify and explain every little thing. Just do it. Or don’t do it.

I did (or didn’t do) Y.

Discover and exercise your amazing ability to simply act. Experience the freedom of being a cause rather than an effect.

Unclear or Uncertain?

February 13, 2014 by Joycelyn Campbell 3 Comments

There’s an enormous difference between being unclear—not knowing which step to take—and being uncertain—not knowing what the outcome of taking that step will be. It’s important to recognize whether it’s a lack of clarity or the fear of uncertainty that might be getting in your way.

When your mind is confused at the outset, it’s probably not a good time to act. If you are weighing one action against another and making lists of pros and cons, you’re unclear. As counterintuitive as it may sound, thinking about the situation more or harder won’t make it any clearer. When you’re clear, the path to take is obvious. Only the details remain to be worked out.

But if you’re waiting until you’re certain of the outcome of your action, you will likely never act because the outcome is never certain. We can’t yet predict the future. And why would we want to? As Ursula Le Guin said, “The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty; not knowing what comes next.”

The unconscious part of our brain is biased against uncertainty, and so we are biased against it, too. But trying to avoid uncertainty is tremendously limiting, not to mention a fool’s game.

Certainty itself is an emotional state, not an intellectual one. To create a feeling of certainty, the brain must filter out far more information than it processes, which, of course, greatly increases its already high error rate during emotional arousal. In other words, the more certain you feel, the more likely you are wrong.

Mental focus, the foundation of feelings of certainty, distorts reality by magnifying and amplifying one or two aspects of it while filtering out everything else. You might discover more detail about the one or two aspects you focus on, but what you discover will have no contextual meaning, because you have isolated those aspects from their dynamic interaction with the rest of the reality in which they exist. In other words, focus magnifies things out of proportion and blows them out of context. —Stephen Stosny, Ph.D.

What is certain is settled, known, and impervious to change. Uncertainty may be frightening, but…

Uncertainty is where things happen. It is where the opportunities—for success, for happiness, for really living—are waiting. —Martha Nussbaum

Is Your Head Ready to Explode?

February 6, 2014 by Joycelyn Campbell 2 Comments

Scene of the explosion of a ConSec scanner's head — (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

You might have a head on the verge of exploding if you’re trying to operate under these two incompatible assumptions.

You have free will, and you choose whatever you do or don’t do.

You can’t do or not do a single thing without having a reason.

Our brains have been shown to be highly proficient reason-generating machines. It’s part of their hardwiring for survival. And we seem more than happy to go along for the ride without questioning the process or the result.

Here’s how it goes:

We turn something into a reason.

We act as if the reason has an independent existence.

We impute a direct cause-and-effect relationship between the reason we have created and whatever we do or don’t do.

Maybe we think we freely chose whatever we turned into a reason for a particular action or non-action. But if we have to have a reason in order to act or not act, the reason doesn’t really matter. We still can’t simply act. We still have no power. And ultimately, we still aren’t responsible.

There’s no point in arguing for free will all the while operating as if we live in a deterministic universe in which everything that happens is the result of something that happened before. The mental gymnastics required to maintain these opposing beliefs keep us stuck in the status quo, chasing our mental tails, and sometimes going to extreme measures to defend our lack of power and responsibility.

Which explains quite a lot.