The Bias of the Brain
It's common knowledge among those who study consciousness that the human brain is wired for negativity. Negativity bias it is called, which can be seen in society's primary expressions. They are negative because people want that information. They prefer it. The negative has more allure and impact.
SOURCE: CARHART-HARRIS RL, ERRITZOE D & WILLIAMS T. PNAS 2011;109:2138–2143
Theories suggest that negativity dominates perception in order to keep humans alert to danger so they can successfully survive on earth with all its threats, many of them unexpected. Prior negative encounters teach people how to handle the new ones. LSD and other such substances shut off connections to the brain centers responsible for storing these memories. Hallucinogenics in a therapeutic setting have been found to wipe out habits and cure addictions and other psychiatric disorders very quickly.
It could be that survival mode is suspended briefly on LSD, so the normal negative perceptions are not needed. Or maybe that amount of brain enlightenment is too much for ordinary existence.
But what clues are available here? Is it an evolutionary factor? It might be that the source of positivity lies in wait, to be accessed occasionally or in small amounts as circumstance indicates. The flood of joy, beauty, divine grace, and perception of benevolence in the universe stands by while primitive fears and survival instincts dominate.
It would be a stretch of great magnitude to view the trait of positivity as a tool in anticipation of a future time when life is less threatening. Whether or not evolution leads in that direction, or any direction, perhaps the individual can consciously construct a life with a fair amount of threat and space for expansion of positive experience. The brain is highly plastic as these studies prove. Or maybe there is an innate positivity quotient for each individual's requirements. Each to his own.
It could be that survival mode is suspended briefly on LSD, so the normal negative perceptions are not needed. Or maybe that amount of brain enlightenment is too much for ordinary existence.
But what clues are available here? Is it an evolutionary factor? It might be that the source of positivity lies in wait, to be accessed occasionally or in small amounts as circumstance indicates. The flood of joy, beauty, divine grace, and perception of benevolence in the universe stands by while primitive fears and survival instincts dominate.
It would be a stretch of great magnitude to view the trait of positivity as a tool in anticipation of a future time when life is less threatening. Whether or not evolution leads in that direction, or any direction, perhaps the individual can consciously construct a life with a fair amount of threat and space for expansion of positive experience. The brain is highly plastic as these studies prove. Or maybe there is an innate positivity quotient for each individual's requirements. Each to his own.
posted by jm at 11:31 AM
27 Comments:
Interesting. Very interesting. Thank you. The images tell the story.
I wonder often about how our shift to “cures” by science have dulled our senses, increased our apathy, not to mention pathologies.
It turned out that Wonder bread did not build strong bodies 12 ways. Glad we were too poor to have sandwiches on the bread with balloons.
Fluoride is suspected of calcifying the Pineal gland which might be our connection to spirit. The list of chemical suppressants is long. A society full of negative, depressed suicidal people really isn't surprising.
Balance. With moments of joy and uncontrollable laughter and moments of negativity and sadness seem like the best path.
Squares arrived this weekend.
Like a pinwheel, everything spins around.
I reckon those squares are making for some negativity too.
Sweet T have you read Molecules of the Mind by Jon Franklin?
I read it many years ago. It was a fabulous couldn't put it down book.
Took a few mins to find my copy.
Subtitle; The Brave New Science of Molecular Psychology.
This from one of my favorite poets seems perfect reflection.
The End and the Beginning
BY WISŁAWA SZYMBORSKA
TRANSLATED BY JOANNA TRZECIAK
After every war
someone has to clean up.
Things won’t
straighten themselves up, after all.
Someone has to push the rubble
to the side of the road,
so the corpse-filled wagons
can pass.
Someone has to get mired
in scum and ashes,
sofa springs,
splintered glass,
and bloody rags.
Someone has to drag in a girder
to prop up a wall.
Someone has to glaze a window,
rehang a door.
Photogenic it’s not,
and takes years.
All the cameras have left
for another war.
We’ll need the bridges back,
and new railway stations.
Sleeves will go ragged
from rolling them up.
Someone, broom in hand,
still recalls the way it was.
Someone else listens
and nods with unsevered head.
But already there are those nearby
starting to mill about
who will find it dull.
From out of the bushes
sometimes someone still unearths
rusted-out arguments
and carries them to the garbage pile.
Those who knew
what was going on here
must make way for
those who know little.
And less than little.
And finally as little as nothing.
In the grass that has overgrown
causes and effects,
someone must be stretched out
blade of grass in his mouth
gazing at the clouds.
What a beautiful poem. I keep rereading it.
You never fail to enlighten me. I didn't know this poet. She is wonderful. I read a few and will read more. She has a genius for juxtaposing words. Hard truths laced with feminine beauty. Thank you for this connection.
From Drinking wine:
I tell him what he wants to hear—
about ants dying of love
under a dandelion's constellation.
Oh me.
And from the above:
Someone else listens
and nods with unsevered head.
But already there are those nearby
starting to mill about
who will find it dull.
And...
All the cameras have left
for another war.
Have not read Molecules but it sounds like something right up my street. It fits with my newfound love of evolutionary biology.
So connection to spirit is obviously wired into our brains. It seems to be a matter of access.
Szymborska won a Nobel prize for literature....one of the justly deserved.
Many years ago my dear friend Phillip pressed a book of poetry into my hands. His niece had translated them from Polish. “You will understand”
Phillip was much older than I. Nearly 7’ tall beyond slender with flowing while hair and electric blue eyes. He was descended from the guardians of the Tsar. His life dedication was to saving thought through word. He brought me many marvelous books I would never have found. I miss him incredibly. I am certain it would have been sparks between the two of you.
I would have liked Phillip very much. You describe him beautifully. I love slender men, almost to the point of mystical self immolation.
Thought through word. The possibilities are unfathomable. Poetry seems to make sense of words through its rhythm, like music. It captures a dimension of words beyond intellect. And it gives freedom to string them up in unusual sequences.
Another from above:
From out of the bushes
sometimes someone still unearths
rusted-out arguments
and carries them to the garbage pile.
Great image. Unearthing words, rusted out arguments. Interesting twist in that they need to be dug up and formally disposed of.
In some of what I read, Wislawa mixes a sentimentality with brutal observation. Very appealing mix for me. She uses simple words and doesn't try to prove how smart she is. A true admiration of language it seems. It supports my love of ethnic, nationalistic, and all kinds of cultural preservation. The variety in artistic output makes the world rich.
Interesting how something is lost in translation as well as gained among worldwide languages. Translation is an art unto itself.
All my life I've wondered what people are really trying to say in their endless babble with stark inspired moments intertwined. So I read between the lines. Not necessary in good poetry.
In fact, I read the emotional delivery of their words for the real clues.
"You will understand."
Yes. I like blue-eyed Phillip.
A thought just came to me. Are we wee humans trying to string up words like the language of DNA sequences? Connecting with primordial life?
Yes.
Life is a constant repication of pattern.
I love how you think.
Want to know something surprising? I offered up Wistawa's poems in a class I taught. Only one older woman understood.
The dullness is too real for me at times.
I am glad for the jeweled necklace I wear in my heart rather than over it, so many brilliant, sparkling gems, my friends.
Phillip lived in a small house filled with books but no answering machine. He only picked up if he was in the mood for conversation. Another gift from him to me and why my phone now lives in a drawer; it does take messages.
One is a lot.
People are who what and where they are for good reason. Look at it this way. Enough jeweled souls got Wis's heart and skill to award her the Big Prize. She died at 88. Long productive life, although she didn't write that many poems. Part of her skill, probably. Recognition is a tricky pursuit often fraught with peril. She did well.
Part of exceptional value is its rarity. So great people are few in number. We need everyone at every stage of development. They come in their own time. They make up the giant pinwheel in total. They're OK as is.
I believe our treasured poet wrote this one for me.....
A Thank You Note
There is much I owe
to those I do not love.
The relief in accepting
they are closer to another.
Joy that I am not
the wolf to their sheep.
My peace be with them
for with them I am free,
and this, love can neither give,
nor know how to take.
I don't wait for them
from window to door.
Almost as patient
as a sun dial,
I understand
what love does not understand.
I forgive
what love would never have forgiven.
Between rendezvous and letter
no eternity passes,
only a few days or weeks.
My trips with them always turn out well.
Concerts are heard.
Cathedrals are toured.
Landscapes are distinct.
And when seven rivers and mountains
come between us,
they are rivers and mountains
well known from any map.
It is thanks to them
that I live in three dimensions,
in a non-lyrical and non-rhetorical space,
with a shifting, thus real, horizon.
They don't even know
how much they carry in their empty hands.
"I don't owe them anything",
love would have said
on this open topic.
"This open topic." -:)
I am sooo happy to be detached from my phone. And so so lucky to have a life where I'm able to do that. Well I created it. Long ago I waited for rings, but now I'm like Wislawa and the sun dial.
I get to my messages whenever and people accept that. Life with space appeals to me more and more. My own clutter factor is the important one. Too much going on detracts from savoring experience. I'm whittling down again now.
"There is much I owe
to those I do not love.
The relief in accepting
they are closer to another."
This really speaks to me. Ages ago I was jealous when those I needed favored others. Now I am relieved to be off the hook.
I prepared for it before my partner died, so I was ready when the time came. It did take logical adjustment, however.
Untangling knots is one of my specialties. I enjoy it. Even though I tie them again and again. Either way.
Dense milky overcast has kept the eclipse from view.
Fortunately they come fairly frequently. The partial ones are good too. The moon looks like a sugar cookie with a bite taken out.
True enough.
The night sky is one of the true pleasures of living here. And, I was up very early.
I don't get the gorgeous desert stars but the moon sets right at my front door. It's good company. Saw a total eclipse a year or two ago.
Szymborska! One of the few book of poetry I own is by her. Love it, probably the one I pull off the shelf most often “Poems New and Collected”.
I feel much richer than several days ago having been introduced to this great poet. Many many thanks, my valued friends.
Nice to be in this circle.
Thanks my sweet T for opening the door to this end of the raging universe.
It's my circle theory for real. Stay centered and others will come concentrically even if only for moments. There are many good circles. I see them as connected revolving gears keeping the whole shebang in motion.
I didn't know what was behind the door and I imagine there are more surprises ahead.
Rage on universe! I'm with you.
Onward!
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