One of the reasons I'm so attracted to modern neuroscience and ancient Buddhism is that each discipline agrees that the unchanging Self most people believe they have is an illusion -- the reality being that we have multiple selves popping into existence all the time.
Cognitive neuropsychologist Chris Niebauer speaks about this in his book, No Self, No Problem: How Neuropsychology is Catching Up to Buddhism, which I wrote about a few days ago. Here's a compelling passage from his "Pattern Perception and the Missing Self" chapter.
Noting just how many "yous" appear in a day works to dismantle the illusion of a singular "you" behind it all. A sense of freedom can emerge from the realization that you are under no obligation to be consistent. You need not try to glue the continuous change in the world into one single thing.
Anger may appear with one "you," but that is only one page of the flip-book, which will soon be replaced with another emotion, another perception, another thought. Like the sun rising and setting, these "yous" will come and go. There is no need to cling to some and avoid others.
There need be no conflict between these selves -- so you can abandon the wrestling match between "sinner you" and "saint you." This frees up an enormous amount of mental energy and fundamentally changes how we can experience the world.
Lastly, you can try to notice that in between the yous there are moments when you are so engaged in some activity that the self isn't even noticeably around. This points to a central question of this book: where is the self when no one is thinking about it?
In his next chapter, "The Basics of Right-Brain Consciousness," Niebauer starts off with the fascinating story of Jill Bolte Taylor, a neuroanatomist who had a stroke that took much of her left brain off-line. I wrote about Taylor in "Brain Damage = Enlightenment?"
The stroke caused her inner voice to fall silent, as it affected the side of her brain that deals with language. But as pleasant as this may seem to those of us (which is virtually everybody) afflicted with monkey mind, Taylor had to undergo years of therapy before she could return to her scholarly work. I shared some quotes from her in my blog post. Taylor said:
I believe that the more time we spend choosing to run the deep inner peace circuitry of our right hemispheres, the more peace we will project into the world and the more peaceful our planet will be. And I thought that was an idea worth spreading.
...So who are we? We are the life force power of the universe, with manual dexterity and two cognitive minds. And we have the power to choose, moment by moment, who and how we want to be in the world.
Right here right now, I can step into the consciousness of my right hemisphere where we are -- I am -- the life force power of the universe, and the life force power of the 50 trillion beautiful molecular geniuses that make up my form. At one with all that is.
Or I can choose to step into the consciousness of my left hemisphere. where I become a single individual, a solid, separate from the flow, separate from you. I am Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor, intellectual, neuroanatomist. These are the "we" inside of me.
This is entirely consistent with Niebauer's perspective. He correctly observes that because the left brain is the primary handler of words, language, and concepts, it has the upper hand in determining how most people view the world. Namely, through the lens of words, language, and concepts.
But there obviously are other ways of experiencing reality. When we walk, ride a bicycle, dance, reach for a glass of water, and such, we Just Do It. We don't think about doing it. We don't talk about doing it. We just do it. Sure, we can also think and talk about those actions, but our doing is distinct from the speaking.
Evolution has brought us a brain divided into left and right hemispheres. So clearly both the left and right brain have important functions. Niebauer summarizes some of them.
In many ways the right brain is the yin to the yang of the left brain. For instance, in the same way that the left brain is categorical, the right brain takes a more global approach to what it perceives. Rather than dividing things into categories and making judgments that separate the world, the right brain gives attention to the whole scene and processes the world as a continuum.
Whereas the attention of the left brain is focused and narrow, the right brain is broad, vigilant, and attends to the big picture. Whereas the left brain focuses on the local elements, the right brain processes the global form that the elements create. The left brain is sequential, separating time into "before that" or "after this," while the right brain is focused on the immediacy of the present moment.
...Another way to summarize the differences between the left and right brain is that the left brain is the language center and the right brain is the spatial center. While admittedly this is reductive, it is a helpful way to summarize decades of research.
Language is categorical; it looks at one word at a time with a narrow focus either as you read or as you speak. When we process the space around us, we deal with the whole at once, not individual parts but how the parts are all connected as they are in any picture.
Niebauer recommends some right-brain activities: yoga, meditation, mindfulness, tai chi, qigong, Since I've been practicing tai chi for twenty years, I resonated with his observation about moving forms of meditation.
When done well, one is conscious of movement within space without verbal labels.
Well, based on my experience, it is possible to do both: be in the right brain flow while still engaging in some left brain verbiage. In my 2008 post about Taylor, I shared this anecdote.
There are lots of ways to get more in touch with our right brain – meditation, dancing, athletics, drugs, sex, to name a few. Getting into "the zone" is a good thing. But for sure, it's not the only thing.
Yesterday I felt great in my Tai Chi class. At the end of it we did the long form, 108 moves that should take around 20 minutes to perform (or "play," in Tai Chi parlance).
About a third a way into the form I thought, "I'm flowing today." About halfway through I thought, "There's no way I'm going to stumble or make a wrong move."
As soon as I said that to myself, my analytical side responded with, "Oh no, you shouldn't be thinking that way. You're going to jinx yourself. You're going to talk yourself out of the zone you're in."
But I didn't.
I kept on feeling in the flow. Part of me was in the zone, and part of me could say "You're in the zone." The two parts weren't interfering with each other, as they sometimes do. I didn't have to shut off half of my brain to play the long form proficiently.
Balance. Not going to extremes. The middle way. Accepting what is. Flowing flexibly. This is the way to approach the left brain/right brain thing. Here's another tip from Niebauer that appeals to me.
Once a day, do something for no reason at all. As one cannot plan to be spontaneous no matter what your left brain tells you, allow for moments of opportunity to arise. If at some point you feel like getting up and taking a walk, do so -- not because you want the fresh air or because work is boring but because you had the inclination and now are acting upon it "for no reason."
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