Opening Up Our Primitive Brains

 I've been musing on the kinds of things that demand our attention most. If you're a human being, your attention may go to different things than if you are an animal or a plant. Or a mushroom. I do think that all life forms have awareness. Our human brains have evolved so that anything that seems like danger grabs us quickly, not so different from our animal relatives. This is because when early humans lived in a wilder, more natural place, our very survival depended upon recognizing threats and responding to them right away: a saber tooth tiger lurking at the edge of the clearing or a bad storm threatening. So we seem to be programmed to respond to negative things in our world for good reasons: safety and self-preservation. It is no accident that threats are so powerful in our minds.

Fast forward to the 21st century, especially if we are hooked up at all to news of the world beyond our front door, and there are triggers everywhere. Watching the news is enough to give us nightmares, and yet most of us want to keep in touch with what's happening in the world. Reporters, also being human, have the same tendency to focus on threats or conflicts. And our brains register them loud and clear before we notice the happier things. It is calming to cuddle with my cat Shadow. Her total disinterest in political battles or wars makes her comfortable with her life, though if I run out of canned cat food at bedtime, I hear about her displeasure! 

It's clear to me that at least in my own life, I need to balance the awareness of threats with another kind of cognition. Otherwise, I jump at shadows and have little faith that we humans will pull our way out of our tangles again. So this morning I was lying in bed and wondering how we do this, how do we not let the tough things weigh us down so much that we can't see beyond them? We no longer have to worry about the saber tooth tiger and most of us are well-sheltered and have enough food. Our threats are different, and many of them are not really personal threats at all. Knowing so much about the dysfunctions of our culture, hearing daily if not hourly reports of the war in Ukraine, fighting for our personal causes, wanting to build a better world, our primitive brain struggles to keep up, struggles to sort out what is important and what is not. Or what we can do something about. Or what is true and what is false. It is a complicated time to be living. Technology advances have made communication instantaneous. Sometimes this seems a miracle, and sometimes a curse. Sometimes we need to take a deep breath and slow down.

For an imperfect fallible person like myself, I've found that I need to pull my mind out of the narrow human context if I want to stay sane amid all the threats. I need to remember that our species is not alone on this planet. We are but one of a million other beings. When I get stuck with the same negative narrow thinking, one thing I've learned is that I need to open myself to the rest of the natural world, where there is much more order and health. I need to do this intentionally. But how? 

This morning I thought back to an experience I had when I was only 20. I had dropped out of college and was working at a small alternative boarding school in the mountains of North Carolina. I was getting some peace, slowing down, not studying for tests, not living under the pressure of college. Then one day as I was walking at the edge of a field,  I felt the impulse to lie down in the field and stretch my arms out wide. The field was surrounded by tall trees and lush wild landscape. I remember wondering if anyone would see me in such an undignified position, but I stretched out in the soft grass at the edge of the woods and melted into the ground. It felt comforting and comfortable, and then something quite amazing happened. I suddenly felt the spiritual wind of the universe sweep through me, fill me with something, and leave me changed. It was nothing like I'd ever experienced before. Although it was still my own body lying in the grass, I  felt like I had somehow joined the "everything that is". My body was lifted out of itself and it joined the wider universe. I remember feeling part of the mountains, of the clouds, of all things. It was a profound experience. I lay there a long time before I got up and went back to my work. And the memory has never left me.

When I think about this experience, it makes me want to arrange my life and my days so that there are times when I'm able to be part of a wider life than going to meetings, doing the dishes, or worrying about the world and my place in it. Getting outdoors helps, but this kind of awareness doesn't just come from going on a walk or looking out the window at the trees. At least for me, to stop my busy mind, it needs to involve quiet. And it needs to be a stillness that gradually lets go of my own small identity and opens myself to a place where self is unimportant. I'm not very good at this. I've never again had an experience like the one in the field. But I do know that I need these still times. I need to often let go of the threats that grab the attention of my brain, and let myself experience a much deeper and wider reality where I am part of everything. From that place, you see and feel the whole landscape of life, and also feel the truth that we all belong.