Out of the One, Many

“from the many to the One; from the diversity so obvious to the senses, to the unity which is the fruit of inward realization: such is the general trend in religious thought.” — Phirozshah Dorabji Mehta, Indian-born writer and lecturer on religious topics

Wlight-split-into-spectrum-by-prismhen we work our way backwards to first principles, we arrive at the One, the ground of our being. This source might be conceived spiritually or scientifically, depending upon whether the nature of this ground is assumed to be subject or object, animate or inanimate. These different metaphysical perspectives divide us and impact the assumptions we make about how life and consciousness may be connected.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

Regardless of unifying first principles, existentially we experience a world of many pieces. Mind functions like a prism and separates the rudimentary singularity into legion.

“The forming of wholes, or categories, is what the brain does best, and the effect is powerful. A real world and a constant self depend on it.”  — Jason W. Brown, M.D,. neurologist

At a fundamental level, creating categories is what mind does. Its organizing process tags the created categories with feelings, leading to a subjective experience where all knowledge is both categorical and emotional. We experience a world split into objects that differ in their value for satisfying our needs. Feelings provide us feedback about the world we perceive and vary in the extent to which our needs are anticipated or met. They are part of a complex system that values what we encounter in terms of its worth or threat.

The precision and complexity of our evaluations can be measured in part by the extensiveness of our categories and the extent to which we can see their dimensional nature. Dimensional thinking allows us to see the metaphorical “gray” between the black and white and points to the unifying connection at the ground of our being. Simple black and white judgments reflect fundamental emotionally based categories, such as good or bad, right or wrong, approach or avoid, fight or flight. These intuitive judgments are often necessary for the quick decisions needed to ensure our survival and to reduce the cognitive load and time required for complex thinking. Often referred to as heuristic techniques, these quick approaches to problem solving are shortcuts which can aid rapid decision making.

While mental shortcuts hard-wired by natural selection are necessary for quick decisions, over-reliance on them at the macro-level (of a complex, inter-connected, and overpopulated world) and micro-level (of a more intimate interpersonal relationships) easily leads to conflict. Even though we have evolved the capacity for more intricate and complex thought it is not instinctive for us. Shifting from reflexive judgments to a more contextual and dimensional approach is demanding and takes intention; however, conflict resolution usually requires it. Accessing this more evolved level of thinking requires expanding our accessible categories and managing the intensity of our emotions.

“In emotional turmoil, the upward influence of subcortical emotional circuits on the higher reaches of the brain are stronger than the top-down controls. Although humans can strengthen and empower the downward controls through emotional education and self-mastery, few can ride the whirlwind of unbridled emotions with great skill.” — Jaak Panksepp, Estonian-born American psychologist, psychobiologist, and neuroscientist

Given that nothing stings like being misjudged, criticized, and rejected and nothing soothes like empathy, understanding, and acceptance, practicing a style of discernment that is rooted in an intricate and more compassionate evaluation seems well advised. Unresolved conflict divides us and often results in feelings of disconnection. If we are connected at a fundamental level, especially if that connection is at the level of our consciousness or essential being, then one would expect feelings of disconnection to be painful and feelings of connection to be pleasurable. Achieving harmony is a process of connecting through discovering and experiencing our unity. All the king’s horses and men were unable to put Humpty Dumpty together again, but could they still see Humpty Dumpty in the pieces?

Brown, J. (2000). Mind and Nature: Essays on Time and Subjectivity. London: Whurr Publishers, p. 7

Mehta, P. (1956). Early Indian Religious Thought. London: Luzac and Co., p. 347

Panksepp, J. (1998). Affective Neuroscience: The Foundations of Human and Animal Emotions. New York: Oxford University Press, Inc., p. 301


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

No Matter

Creator

Who made God?

This perceptive question asked by many precocious children deserves an answer…though a definitive answer is unlikely. This question challenges the “first cause” argument, an ontological position which asserts that there must be an initial cause of all that exists by following a chain of causality to the “first cause,” or as Aristotle termed it, the unmoved mover. Those who are theologically inclined believe this first cause to be God, while those who are secular, theorize naturalistic explanations such as the big bang, cyclic models, multiverses, or other scientifically based theoretical attempts to explain this mystery.

It is as impossible for our minds to grasp a nothingness from which something was born, as it is to grasp a something that was never born. What word we use for this ground of being, source of existence, pre-existing condition, or infinite state says something about the metaphysical paradigm we are reasoning from. Whether theological or secular, the ultimate existential question remains for all of us — why is there something rather than nothing? Why do I exist? Where did I come from? Hidden in these questions is the assumption that I do exist. Not only do I exist, but I am aware of my existence. While we can imagine that existence could be without awareness, that is not what we experience; our conscious experiencing is not seriously questioned. In actuality, our raw experience or consciousness is all any of us can be certain of.

Our minds automatically think in terms of causation, which leads us to explain our experiences by finding causes of those experiences. When this is lacking, we feel confused and out of sorts. Causal thinking works well for our day-to-day whodunits, but when it comes to finding the ultimate cause, it leads us to an infinite regress which either never ends or ends at the “first cause” — to which our causal minded minds ask, what caused the first cause or, who made God? Materialists face an additional but similar challenge as they try to solve the “hard problem of consciousness,” which involves figuring out how mindless matter thinks? This problem is similar to determining how something comes from nothing.

The most parsimonious solution is to flip the problem around by starting with the one thing most of us can agree upon, that we are conscious. Consciousness is the one thing which we all directly experience without an intermediary. This is a very satisfactory beginning point; let this be the unmoved mover from which all else stems. Given that our own personal consciousness seems endlessly creative, capable of constructing worlds and beings, what might a universal consciousness be capable of? Why do we need something else to explain where consciousness came from?

escherThat something else is usually some form of matter, but matter is not a required link in the chain. Matter is becoming increasingly squirrely, perplexing, and a lot more like consciousness anyway. Letting go of matter’s preeminence is the solution to the hard problem of consciousness. Mindless matter did not become conscious, consciousness became “matter.” Matter just happens to be what consciousness looks like. I still do not know who made consciousness — maybe it is infinite, or maybe it developed ex nihilo, but I do know it exists.

Today there is a wide measure of agreement, which on the physical side of science approaches almost to unanimity, that the stream of knowledge is heading towards a non-mechanical reality; the universe begins to look more like a great thought than like a great machine. Mind no longer appears as an accidental intruder into the realm of matter; we are beginning to suspect that we ought rather to hail it as a creator and governor of the realm of matter…

— Sir James Hopwood Jeans

 


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

 

Two Worlds

Rodin-The-ThinkerI seem to live in two worlds. One that might be called my “inner world” consists of my private thoughts, emotions, images, and sensations. The other which appears to me as an “outer world” is a shared world that consists of other beings (those who seem to possess an inner world) and objects (things that do not seem to possess an inner world). These two worlds make up my universe; nothing else exists…for me.

The interplay between these two worlds is complex. Much of what could be said to exist in my outer world, exists only in my inner world. For example, I have never been to Africa, so I have never experienced it in my outer world, I have never touched it, seen it, heard it, tasted it, or smelled it. The continent of Africa is an outer world shared by over one billion people that for me, exists only in my inner world through second hand experiences.

neo-wakes-upMy office, where I sit now, exists in my outer and inner world. My inner world, ostensibly fed by the “actual” outer world through my senses, makes my office appear to me as a part of my outer world. It seems real, but how do I know for certain what is real? The philosophical position of solipsism holds that the “outer world” cannot be known. Extreme forms of solipsism deny any outer world, which includes all the other inner worlds. The plot of the science fiction film “The Matrix,” plays with the concept that the outer world is constructed by the mind. The Matrix, a designed outer world, is a complex computer program which humans directly interface with through ports connected to their brains. The humans in the Matrix experience an outer world that does not really exist “out there.”

Chaplin.mirrorDebates about the nature of the outer world are not only happening in philosophy and science fiction, but increasingly in the scientific community. Thinking about the “realness” of my outer world can twist my mind in a Gordian Knot if I am not careful. Yet, I must also take heed of the other extreme, namely over-belief in the outer world. Questioning the outer worlds’ existence generally comes from an intellectual position, not an experiential one. Experientially, the outer world feels certain. Much of my inner world does too. I tend to believe my thoughts and interpretations. Certainty feels good, and these feelings are often necessary for survival — doubting the realness of the world is not a trait that will likely contribute to many descendants.

We crave certainty in both of our worlds; so much that we fight for it when someone challenges our sense of it. While we like suspense, surprise, and mystery, we do not like to sit with these feelings indefinitely. We ultimately want resolution; we want certainty. This can drive us in positive ways to understand our experience, and to use that understanding to improve our existence. But, this craving for certainty has the potential to destroy us. We see evidence of this in political, religious and other interpersonal clashes. What happens when two sides both feel certain of incompatible positions? Certainty can block mutual understanding, empathy, giving others the benefit of the doubt, or meeting in the middle. These are essential diplomatic and interpersonal relationship skills.

I am trying to learn how to question my own certainty, and to live a life that can embrace uncertainty. The scientific method, an approach based on confirming or disconfirming hypotheses based on empirical evidence, may be the closest that we can get to certainty in a subjective world. It provides a structured way to dialogue and find consensus about our shared outer world. Yet, consensus is still lacking, even science is subject to biases and current paradigms. Humans are naturally stubborn and resistant to evidence that works against their beliefs, even when it might provide a better explanation.

population-2014There are over seven billion people in our consensual outer world, each possessing a different inner world; each providing a unique perspective on the outer world; each potentially at odds with many of the others; each feels their “truth” deeply, craves understanding, and desires some sense of connection. The interplay of these many worlds might not be survivable, but if we are going to make it, then we must learn how to live together between the inner and outer worlds. Science alone is not enough, we must also find ways to understand, abide, and share our bewildering inner worlds.

“I like the scientific spirit—the holding off, the being sure but not too sure, the willingness to surrender ideas when the evidence is against them: this is ultimately fine—it always keeps the way beyond open—always gives life, thought, affection, the whole man, a chance to try over again after a mistake—after a wrong guess.”

Walt Whitman


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Status

58949722 / State Opening of ParliamentFrom the schoolyards to the networking events to the red carpet, it is intuitively felt. As a social species, humans are highly attuned to social status; one might say that we have a built in “status detector.” Natural selection has rewarded individuals having higher status with better access to mates and food and subsequently more offspring, along with other benefits that improve quality of life. Research suggests that our brain chemistry and subsequently our emotions, mood and behavior are heavily impacted by our position in the social hierarchy.

“Serotonin levels are not innate and inflexible. They are themselves the product of social status. The higher your self-esteem and social rank relative to those around you, the higher your serotonin level is…. There is little doubt that the monkey’s mood is set by its high serotonin levels. If you artificially reverse the pecking order so the monkey is now a subordinate, not only does its serotonin drop, but its behavior changes, too. Moreover, much the same seems to happen in human beings.” — Matt Ridley

Lance Armstrong Tour De FranceHumans ascribe status in many different ways, but these typically come through two basic pathways: gained through achievement or assigned in some way based on aspects such as sex, age or physical characteristics or through background such as lance-armstrongone’s ethnic group or family. Societies can differ on which types of status they emphasize and how rigid the boundaries are between the layers. Status systems create a hierarchy within society that provides those at the top more power and privilege. One might say that these entrenched ways of assigning status create a strong current that can make it difficult and at times impossible to contravene. Within these systems, there are frequently crosscurrents, when various categories of status intersect (for example, women high in social status before women’s suffrage). And, just as status can be gained or assigned, it can be lost or forfeited.

The concept of fraternization occurs when someone within a given status system engages in social relations with people from a different strata as though they were siblings, personal friends or lovers. The resulting impact of these systems is to effect inequality, which leads many institutions and societies to enforce strong prohibitions against fraternizing. This flows from the recognition that intimate relationships work best between peers. Unequal power can distort romantic relationships and create conditions of imbalance that may lead to unresolvable conflict. So, although it is based on a perceived place in the hierarchy, it has dramatic results and impacts our emotions, mood, even physiology and behavior, which one can clearly see in the conduct of winners (arms and chest held aloft) and losers (shoulders and head lowered). Feelings of contempt towards others reflect a perceived higher status, while feelings of resentment reflect perceived lower status. Those above judge and criticize, while those below defend. Aggression comes from a place of power, while passive-aggressive or terroristic behaviors spring from perceived lower status.

Status emerges in human relationships from deep within our subconscious minds, often catching us unaware. It is often reified in institutions and in society as a whole, even considered to be imbued by nature or divinity. Resistance to this idea has been germinating for years challenging nature’s push and society’s hold. There is growing concern about the levels of inequality in the distribution of wealth and resources. We almost universally find it humorous when the pompous are brought down, and some say this is the essence of much of our humor. We are also keenly aware of hypocrisy, especially of those in places of power and prestige. If we notice this force in our lives, and notice that it is based on perception, then we can more consciously consider what role we want it to actually play in our lives and relationships. Significant healing can be achieved when the lowly are lifted up and the playing field starts to level. Given our propensity towards ascribing status, perhaps with greater consciousness, healthier systems of status might emerge which draw out the best in us rather than our baser instincts.

“Human beings are a species splendid in their array of moral equipment, tragic in their propensity to misuse it, and pathetic in their constitutional ignorance of the misuse.” — Robert Wright


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Life is a game

Game: a competitive activity involving skill, chance, or endurance on the part of two or more persons who play according to a set of rules, usually for their own amusement or for that of spectators.

Board-Game-LifeIt could be that life is a game. You are assigned a player; you get an avatar and you are placed on the board. The player you are assigned seeming to make a big difference in this game, as does the appearance of your avatar and where you happen to be placed on the board. Some players seem to start with many more advantages, while many others seem to have been significantly handicapped. These handicaps can dramatically effect the results of a player’s game and there are locations on the board that can make staying in the game very challenging.

Games involve rules, but in this game you do not know the rules in advance. You pick them up as you play or the game ends. You absorb most of the rules without even realizing it. Other players, especially those closest to you on the board, may share the rules that they think are the basis of the game, however, it can be quite confusing when you see that everyone seems to play under slightly different rules. There are only a few rules that are sometimes called “laws of physics” which appear to apply to everyone. There are some rules that seem especially important and many other rules seem to work like guardrails to keep you from breaking the critical rules.

It is quite likely that you will never realize that you are playing a game. The stakes appear to be very high and most of the players are taking the game quite seriously; players rarely acknowledge to one another that they are even playing a game. There seems to be all manner of strategies that other players take in the game and this too can be quite confusing. This may or may not lead you to try to figure out what the game is all about. Most of us absorb an implicit understanding of this and just play accordingly. It is often easier to judge that others are playing the game incorrectly or just do not know the rules than to go through great efforts to determine the purpose of the game. These players adopt someone else’s rule book and let that calm their uncertainty and angst about the purpose and rules.

Managing energy level and hedonic tone seem to be very important in the game. The interaction with the other players seems to be a primary way this is done. Players seem to spend much of their time figuring out a strategy of how to establish and maintain relationships with other players and how best to earn and use their tokens (a.k.a. money). Players grow very attached to other players and find it very difficult when they are struggling or when their game ends.

Players seem to vary in how much amusement they get from playing the game. I suspect that many do not enjoy the game. This seems to be a function of the rule book, and how others play the game. The concept of winning is a big question due to the obscurity of the rules and purpose of the game. It does seem that many feel that only some players can win. These players seem hell-bent on “winning” their game regardless of what it means to the other players. There are also players that think that no one can win the game, while others believe everyone can.

New players are continually being added to the game. They require the help of others if they are going to make it in the game. Players at all levels are just as consistently exiting the game. Remaining players may try to learn from these exits. It seems like the game ends when the avatar can no longer function in the game, but game-overs remain a big mystery of the whole game.

If life is a game, then I wonder whose game it is and who these players really are? Who is manifesting all of these avatars? Could they come from one source? Could it be that there is only one player —a source that is capable of actualizing all the players on the board? This source might have imagined this amazing game, perhaps even many other amazing games — imagining and fully immersing in the games, so fully that for a time true identity is lost in the characters played.

If this is what the game is all about, then why should my avatar fear the end of the game? If he is playing, then the game is not over. If the game is over, then he is not playing. Why should he fear games that he is not a part of?

Why should I fear death?
If I am, then death is not.
If Death is, then I am not.
Why should I fear that which can only exist when I do not.
—Epicurus


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Being / Seeking

The baby, assailed by eyes, ears, nose, skin, and entrails at once, feels it all as one great blooming, buzzing confusion; and to the very end of life, our location of all things in one space is due to the fact that the original extents or bignesses of all the sensations which came to our notice at once, coalesced together into one and the same space. — William James (1890)

120892My existence is mysterious to me, yet that I exist is my core reality. My existence integrates an experiencer with that which is experienced. My experiencer divides my experience into “external” and “internal” perceptual categories, which by convention I label as either objective (external) or subjective (internal).  Orienting towards my experience further divides the objective and subjective into seemingly inexhaustible perceptual phenomena. If I move toward the subjective, through my “inner world,” in the direction of the experiencer, I ultimately arrive at simple awareness. This seems to be the starting point of my existence, for here all my perceptions are subsumed since without awareness there is no experiencer. Without my experiencer, I have no experience, no existence. Awareness is my immediately available, experiential foundation, my existence. It is my source, the ground of my being.

When I maneuver away from my foundation of pure awareness, toward the “great blooming, buzzing confusion,” I feel unsettled because my source feels diluted in this mysterious array of experience. Making sense of this mystery is the impetus of science, religion, philosophy and speculation. In my own sense-making endeavor, I will inevitably diverge from all the other efforts to do the same. Nevertheless, I feel driven to make sense of this mystery to achieve a sense of coherence and to reconnect with the simplicity of my existence. I am ever seeking a state of connection, unity and oneness.

Do I continue seeking, dividing, sorting and rearranging? Or, is what I seek, right here, at one with me, inseparable and immediately available?

Could it be that simple?

River Running

Upper Gauley SwimmingMy closest brush with death occurred when I fell out of a raft in a Class V rapid on the Upper Gauley River in West Virginia (conveniently captured by the rafting company’s photographer). The pre-trip orientation had advised me to float with my feet pointed downstream should I find my self outside the raft. Unfortunately, once in the water, despite wearing a life jacket and buoyant wetsuit, I was unable to determine which way was up, let alone downstream. Eventually, the raging Gauley coughed me up only to quickly inhale me back under. Fortunately, the second time I arrived at the surface, I was immediately pulled into the raft, which provided me the welcomed opportunity to reunite my lungs with air. This experience demonstrated to me, a water lover, the menacing power of moving water.

I have a lifetime of experience playing in pools, creeks, rivers, ponds, lakes and the ocean. Much of this play has involved interacting with a current of moving water — whether body surfing or drift diving in the ocean, whitewater rafting, canoeing or swimming in rivers or just playing with sticks in a creek. The pleasure comes from moving with the current, whereas, the experience of moving against the current usually feels like work and definitely involves some technique.  I have a scar on my right knee from a fall I took during a seventh grade canoe trip, while trying to walk back upstream to repeat the fun of floating through a relatively mild rapid.

The experience of moving downstream with the current or upstream against the current can vary dramatically depending on the amount and force of the flowing water. In some cases, a river’s current is barely detectable, and moving upstream is almost as effortless as moving downstream. But in others, as in my Upper Gauley experience, you are at the mercy of the river, and moving upstream is not an option.

In Who’s Driving Now?, I discussed the relationship between our limbic system and neocortex. I introduced the concept of emotionally organized “executive operating systems” (EOSs). Briefly, researchers have identified seven to nine EOSs that activate us to deal with the challenges and opportunities humans have faced throughout their evolutionary history. Each EOS can be seen as an encompassing brain state that involves feelings, thoughts and motivations which are experienced on a continuum of intensity. As an example, the feelings in the “RAGE” EOS might range from frustration to indignation; thoughts might be organized around blame, contempt or memories of past wrongs; and motivation might be oriented to the urge to punish or hurt. The theory behind EOSs suggests that our brains are principally organized by emotions, which can exert a powerful current impacting all aspects of our experience.

Just as rivers ramble or rumble according to the quantity of water, gravity and the terrain, the flow of our emotional current can be mellow or dramatic depending upon the “gravity” and “terrain” of the situation we are encountering. Our human form of consciousness allows for the experience of internal conflict between our intentions and our feelings. The ability to see the big picture and create long range plans and goals is a function of the frontal lobes of the cerebral cortex. The power of this executive brain region to guide our actions depends primarily on whether it is attempting to move with or against the emotional current of our “limbic river” and with the intensity of the current.

Like it or not, we are all river runners. We must negotiate whitewater, cross currents, tributaries and obstacles. Our feelings flow — gently or forcefully moving us downstream. At times, we must shift our position in the river or reorient ourselves to take a different line. This may involve bursts of moving upstream or some clever rudder work, either of which will depend on the current state of our “limbic river” and our past experience running our river.

We may be floating on Tao, but there is nothing wrong with steering. If Tao is like a river, it is certainly good to know where the rocks are. ― Deng Ming-Dao


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

 

 

What if?

You are a function of what the whole universe is doing in the same way that a wave is a function of what the whole ocean is doing. 
― Alan Watts

UniversalMindThe existence of consciousness remains the greatest of mysteries. What if consciousness is not a byproduct of matter but the source of matter? What if a universal mind is the field that holds together our world of matter? … each speck of life, a unique portal through which this mind pours forth its creative impulses. A creativity that further blossoms as “matter” awakens to consciousness. “Awakened matter” ultimately notices itself as an object, and a sense of self is galvanized. Self grows cognizant of its awareness, and an unshared subjectivity is conceived. This individualized perspective can neither be replicated nor fully understood by another.

What if that perspective in us — which is aware, which notices and is our observing self — is universal mind seeing through the filter that is us with all our idiosyncratic characteristics? What if the world we notice “out there” is actually inside rather than outside — a dreamworld contained within universal mind? I, like many other seekers, desperately want to reify this mind of which I am comprised. Even naming it is a movement in this direction, but whatever is observing and experiencing through us, if it is singular, cannot be mentally captured any more than I can see my eyes with my eyes. We know this universal mind, this source of awareness, only through living and experiencing our unique perspective. Our life is this larger life, but embodied and limited in space and time.

If we believe a universal mind experiences through us, might it change the way we see ourselves and one another? Could we feel connected and unified rather than isolated and divided? Is it possible we would value ourselves and others in a more treasured way? Maybe we would be curious and open to others’ perspectives and less judgmental and intolerant. Perhaps compassion and love could flourish.

While it often seems that we dwell in separateness and look out at a world full of objects perhaps it is quite the opposite, and a knowing, experiencing and creative mind is “looking” within — seeing itself through myriad perspectives … a dynamic self with so many ways to experience, to interact … to be. Perhaps this self becomes so enamored and entangled in these multiple perspectives that in the midst of embodied experience it believes these dreams of separateness and loses a sense of unity.

Do we want “it” to wake up?

You are actually—if this is the way things started, if there was a big bang in the beginning— you’re not something that’s a result of the big bang. You’re not something that is a sort of puppet on the end of the process. You are still the process. You are the big bang, the original force of the universe, coming on as whoever you are. When I meet you, I see not just what you define yourself as—Mr so-and- so, Ms so-and-so, Mrs so-and-so—I see every one of you as the primordial energy of the universe coming on at me in this particular way. I know I’m that, too. But we’ve learned to define ourselves as separate from it. ― Alan Watts


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

 

Horse and Rider

Most of us would like our feelings to line up with our will. We want to “feel” like doing, what we “think” we want; short of that, we want more willpower to overcome the strong pull feeling exerts away from our goals. Experiencing inner wrangling and a lack of control over ourselves, we regularly see ourselves succumb to instant gratification — sabotaging our long-term intentions. This daily internal struggle blocks our efforts to direct our behavior in constructive ways. Our perceived “failures” can lead to a negative self-regard and a sense that we are powerless to change.

Internal strife suggests that we are not of one mind. We know this to be true, yet our inner executive resists the idea that his or her influence is not absolute. A true examination of our experience suggests that we are informed by many influences within us, which may or may not be moving in the same direction. They seem to glide in and out of the executive’s chair, and we often sense a fight in the board room as they scuffle for takeover. The mind is complicated, as is the brain, and whatever relationship these two have to one another, both have many components. To keep it simple, we have conscious aspects and subconscious aspects of mind. Our consciousness has the will, but our subconsciousness possesses the power.

Horse in ControlI think the metaphor of a horse and rider aptly symbolizes the subconscious and conscious mind. The rider has the will, but the horse provides the power. When a horse and rider are in sync with one another, they can accomplish amazing tasks. BuckingBroncoWhen not in sync, it gets ugly fast. What they are capable of achieving depends entirely upon the relationship that is forged between the two. This is a lifelong relationship, but the horse has the jump start.

The horse’s training begins immediately, but it is not the rider who early on wields the reins. The rider is slow to develop and is initially just along for the ride like a child on a pony ride. Training and support is dependent upon external sources, such as parents and other guardians. The horse has had significant training by the time it is even possible for the rider to exert any influence. Each horse and rider are unique: Some are bold, and some are timid; some have constructive training, and some do not. Along the way, they encounter circumstances that will interact with their training. The combinations are infinite and will shape their path through the terrain of life.

Yet, training and relationship building are ongoing — horses and riders can change. Improved relationships can be forged. We all need to become better horse whisperers, especially when there has been trauma or difficult circumstances. Our horse does not forget and will remember events unknown to its rider. Experiences can trigger a fight, flight or freeze reaction which the rider may not understand. Horses are powerful and cannot be forced. They need patience and compassion to build the trust and consistency, which will make them more responsive to their rider’s will.

It’s a lot like nuts and bolts – if the rider’s nuts, the horse bolts!  — Nicholas Evans


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

The New Arrival

stork_baby_deliveryIt has been said that man is a rational animal. All my life I have been searching for evidence which could support this.  — Bertrand Russell (1950)

Our unconscious brain is an automatic and fast parallel processing system of interacting components oriented towards our survival and adaption in the world. The primary script is to avoid what is painful and to seek out what is pleasurable. Emotions at their fundamental level involve judgment about whether to approach or avoid. These basic impulses are reflected in our broader array of human emotions which developed in large part to the interpersonal world we live in. Our advanced brains are the accumulated product of a long, long history of life adapting to changing conditions. With time self-consciousness emerged, though it was a late arrival to the evolving brain. Like a newborn, it demanded a lot of attention and energy. This part of the brain, capable of executive functions like planning, troubleshooting and resisting temptation, came along to support and advance what was already in place. This means that the part of our self which we most identify with, the part that “feels” like it is in charge, is really just one of many modules that have advanced fitness. Given that it is the new arrival to the project, it is not primary and like our newborns (while it may sometimes seem otherwise) is not really in charge.

Our felt experience is that the “executive suite” of the brain is running things, but that is because this awareness has its office in the executive suite. Executives often “feel” like they are in charge, but in truth they can only be aware of a small part of what is happening in the organization. Every level of the organization deals with what it needs to and only goes up the “chain of command” when it needs to. President Barack Obama once said, “Nothing comes to my desk that is perfectly solvable. Otherwise, someone else would have solved it.” The executive of an organization would quickly be overwhelmed if they had to deal with or approve every decision, and in truth, they would be clueless about many of those lower level decisions. The executives only hear from those close and only speak to those close. This means that the executive suite only hears about a small subset of information and is only capable of making certain types of decisions, those it is specialized to make.

This organization was not designed top down but it evolved bottom up. We did not begin as “rational animals” but evolved the capability to use reason. Most of what we do moment to moment is unconscious to us. “We” spend our time in our executive suite handling what is given to us from the vast organization “below” us. These activities keep us busy, help us feel vital to the organization and very self-important, but “we,” evolutionarily speaking, are just the new kid.


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

“Dark” Awareness

We are aware of what is in our awareness, and we are not aware of what is not in our awareness – could anything be more obvious? Awareness is our everything and as a result it gets all of our attention, but that means everything outside of our awareness is getting none of our attention. Astronomers of old used to only pay attention to what they could see, but as the technology and science progressed they started paying attention to what couldn’t be seen. Some astronomers now hypothesize that dark matter and dark energy constitute more than 90% of the universe. These “dark” forces are inferred but not seen yet have a huge impact. Our human universe also has forces outside of awareness which dramatically influence our thoughts, feelings and behavior.

We have a natural bias that our conscious mind plays a greater role in controlling our behavior than it actually does. This is simply because it is the part of our self that we are aware of and identify with, our “me-ness,” if you will. Like the astronomers, psychologists are able to use experiments that allow them to observe the impact of the unconscious mind.

eye

David Eagleman is a neuroscientist who delves into the significant influence of the unconscious in his book Incongnito: The Secret Lives of the Brain (1). Early in the book he discusses an experiment where men were asked to rank how attractive they found photographs of different women’s faces. The photographs were very subtly altered in a way none of the men in the study noticed but which served to dramatically influence the results. In half of the photographs the eyes of the women were dilated, and as it turns out, these were the women the men found more attractive (eye dilation corresponds with sexual excitement and readiness).

Chances are that the men might be able to come up with reasons for their attraction, but this would likely be a confabulation not unlike those of the split brain subjects I discussed in Pretty Good Stories. We naturally explain our actions with what is in our awareness; but as a great body of research literature demonstrates, we are significantly influenced by what is out of our awareness.

Much of our behavior is as unconscious to us as what happens within our computers when we manipulate the keyboard or mouse. While we have no idea how we do most of what we do or why, we don’t generally experience life in a state of total confusion. We have evolved to know enough to live our lives and adapt to our world, just as the astronomers of old knew enough to predict the changing seasons. The challenge now is how to make sense of and function in a world where we have discovered “dark” awareness.

(1) Eagleman, D. M. 2011. Incognito: The Secret Lives Of The Brain. New York, NY: Pantheon Press.

John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Dream World

My assumption is that mind or consciousness is not generated from the brain. I assume the inverse, namely, that the brain (and matter more generally) is an emergent property of consciousness. One might call this a non-materialist perspective since it does not assume that mind can be reduced to matter.  This approach suggests that “matter” and the material world exist within mind or consciousness. It views consciousness as primary over matter; therefore, consciousness is not contained within the body. The “body” is something consciousness generates.

Consciousness

Each of us experiences an intimate model of this every night as we create a world within our consciousness – our dreams. The people, places and things which are our dream objects exist only within our dream consciousness. From our dream self’s perspective, our dream objects seem fairly real and solid albeit with the strange twist of our dreaming physics.

This approach does not mean that we can dismiss the laws of physics in our waking life; nothing practically changes. Objects still feel solid and real, and a fall is still going to hurt. However, it may be an approach that helps better explain the strange physics at the extreme macro and micro ends of the observable universe. It may also open up greater acceptance and understanding of parapsychology’s research. As physicists search for the fundamental building blocks of matter, they aren’t finding them; but they are finding that measurable matter may need consciousness to be realized.

The 1925 discovery of quantum mechanics solved the problem of the Universe’s nature. Bright physicists were again led to believe the unbelievable — this time, that the Universe is mental. According to Sir James Jeans: “the stream of knowledge is heading towards a non-mechanical reality; the Universe begins to look more like a great thought than like a great machine. Mind no longer appears to be an accidental intruder into the realm of matter… we ought rather hail it as the creator and governor of the realm of matter.” But physicists have not yet followed Galileo’s example, and convinced everyone of the wonders of quantum mechanics. As Sir Arthur Eddington explained: “It is difficult for the matter-of-fact physicist to accept the view that the substratum of everything is of mental character.”  (R. C. Henry, “The Mental Universe”; Nature 436:29, 2005)

Our only way of knowing this world continues to be through our five senses, through our observations.  As always, we will continue to experience those observations mentally — through consciousness where all things “really” exist.

 


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

The Chicken and Egg Dilemma of Mind and Brain

Mind Brain Relationship

I think a lot about the mind and the brain and what the relationship is between these two. Minds have been trying to understand minds for thousands of years, though it is only in recent history that scientists have had the tools to study the brain. Efforts to correlate the mind’s experiences to brain regions have been in high gear. Regions associated with perception, sensation, emotion, cognition, bodily regulation and more have been identified. Most of the neuroscience community makes the assumption, based on these correlations, that mind is a function of the brain — that our mind, our consciousness, is just the subjective experience of our brain function.

Our mind is our subjective experience, and when we experience we objectify that experience. Language allows us to label “objects” and make associations with them that we can then communicate. We generally experience objects as “real” solid things. A brain is one such object that is made up of other labeled objects such as lobes, neurons, neurotransmitters, cells, atoms, etc. Language has associated all of these objects into a cohesive narrative.

The central question is which came first? Does mind create the brain, or does brain create the mind? This is a classic chicken and egg-type problem. With most problems, it is helpful to look at the assumptions we are making. For example, are objects real? Are they solid things? Keeping in mind that some “objects” are intangible, such as our thoughts and feelings, most of the others “feel” real. Realness, however, is only subjectively experienced, like every object within our mind. This is a tricky concept to get our minds around because our minds are, in function, reality generators. It is also tricky because others often communicate, through language their experience of these objects. How do we know there is a “real” world out there? While this is not a new debate, it is not a settled debate.

Culturally and experientially it may seem that the debate is settled, and the world of matter and real objects have won the day. Neuroscience is focused now on trying to understand how the brain generates our consciousness (not the other way around). The predominant assumption is that the brain and matter are primary and mind or consciousness is an emergent property of the brain. While we do know that physical or chemical changes to the brain impact and are correlated with subjective experience, must we conclude that mind is an emergent property of the brain? We also know that when we drop our television on the floor that our audio-visual experience of the television might change. Is the television generating the audio-visual experience? Is mind nothing more than the workings of the brain?

 


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.