OVERGROWTH

Mist in the morning. Over days
the sun strikes ice.

Teeth creep down windows.
The vines begin to leak in

one drop at one time. The sound,
the touch of ice, the touching of ice.

Someone has been walking a distant to and fro
scraping shovel against snow.

A hawk is dark over winter ground.
A man shatters through the overgrowth.

Between watchers, the trees of limbs bend.

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OVERGROWING EXCESSES OF LOVE

It’s funny, this morning on my way to work I was thinking how I wished Noah would post another poem. And, whallah! Here it is.  And that word, “Overgrowth,” immediately conjures Robert Frost:

 

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,           

And sorry I could not travel both           

And be one traveler, long I stood           

And looked down one as far as I could           

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

 

People usually try to find much symbolism in a poem Frost says he meant literally.  Of course, there is no such thing as only literal in mind.  Mind’s business is to symbolize, to reach across embodiment and spread its contextual wings into Other.  Nor does it mean that Frost lied nor was wrong; it merely means it was neither literal nor not literal, to paraphrase Stevens. 

 

In fact, it is the movement from the literal to the figurative that leads us back to the literal.  It is a literal at a higher literality; at a higher level of awareness where everything exists in everything else: the mist in morning; the sun striking ice; someone walking with shovel in hand and then “scraping shovel against snow.”  All things are composed of non-thing elements.  I am leaking as the vine “one drop at a time” shattering through the overgrowth of mind seeking my very roots, the roots that give life to even the overgrowth of mind excessing chaos, suffering and, ultimately, love.

Stasis to Balance

As Om has written in his recent post to Sasha, we have a tendency to moralize our behavior as either good or bad, successful or failed etc. I see this in my own experience as a comparison between the perception of self in the world and a conceptual map, comprised of beliefs about self in the world, which reflect learned behaviors that once facilitated physical and emotional survival.

Fear is both an impulse toward and consequence of this moralizing tendency. But behaviorally, I find that the ostensible object of fear actually tends to conceal an opposing instinct. For example, I have a fear of failure, in a sort of amorphous, non-descript sense, which can cause me feel that I am never 'good enough,' or that my successes are fraudulent in some way.

This fear often paralyzes me from doing anything at all, thereby becoming an almost self-fulfilling prophecy. In looking at the actual behavior my fear engenders, I could almost conclude that what I'm really afraid of is accomplishment, assertiveness, bold action. I feel tricked by fear into believing that I am afraid of failure, when in fact the passivity it engenders suggests a deeper antipathy toward aggressive engagement.

Similarly, when looking at fear with respect to intimacy, it seems clear that behaviors governed by fear actually perpetuate emotional suffering, as Sasha well knows. And so I wonder if there is an aspect of this dynamic that is seeking to preserve a certain, familiar and grounding self-identification, even if that identification is inherently afflicted.

If as Om is saying, the root fear is of groundlessness and dissolution, then these crippling anxieties around worth and intimacy are partly about preserving a sense of stability and ground. Letting go of a self identity, even one we hate, is frightening. And even if we want to, our fear can prevent us from relating in ways that contradict that identification. I am very loyal to the beliefs about myself that I'd like to dissolve.

We are moving away from the idea of self as object, toward the idea of self as process. Process, being inherently relational and transitory, lacks substantial or fixed existence. But, in an attempt to attach to substantiality, it seems like self-process becomes static. This stasis is what we experience as being locked into repeating patterns of fear based behavior and perception. I think there exists in this state a confusion of stasis with balance.

Perhaps in embracing self as process and learning to let go of self as object, it becomes easier over time to develop a self-sense which naturally seeks relational balance over isolating stasis.

THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN LANGUAGE AND FEELINGS

 Hey Noah, have we spoken explicitly about the relationship between emotions and language?  I was just listening to Neil Young’s `Old Man:’

 

Old man take a look at my life

I'm a lot like you

I need someone to love me

the whole day through

Ah, one look in my eyes

and you can tell that's true.

 

The development of self depends on relationships. I’m thinking of so many of my friends who I’m helping with exactly that: connecting feelings to language.  Developmentally speaking, so much disorganized and insecure attachment leads to an inability to relate healthily to the stress of separation, which of course results in emotional dysregulation.  A key role of parents in building neural growth, brain network integration, and psychological stability is in building this bridge between affect and language.  The idea is to consistently guide a child’s attention to her inner thoughts and feelings and develop a vocabulary and grammar for it.  This is the mind side of consciousness aligning with the brain side.  They are in direct correlation. 

 

Or Cat Stevens `How Can I tell You:’

 

How can I tell you that I love you, I love you

but I can't think of right words to say

I long to tell you that I'm always thinking of you

I'm always thinking of you, but my words

just blow away, just blow away

It always ends up to one thing, honey

and I can't think of right words to say

Wherever I am girl, I'm always walking with you

I'm always walking with you, but I look and you're not there

Whoever I'm with, I'm always, always talking to you

I'm always talking to you, and I'm sad that

you can't hear, sad that you can't hear

It always ends up to one thing, honey,

when I look and you're not there

I need to know you, need to feel my arms around you

feel my arms surround you, like a sea around a shore

and -- each night and day I pray, in hope

that I might find you, in hope that I might

find you, because heart's can do no more

It always ends up to one thing honey, still I kneel upon the floor

How can I tell you that I love you, I love you

but I can't think of right words to say

I long to tell you that I'm always thinking of you

I'm always thinking of you....

It always ends up to one thing honey

and I can't think of right words to say

 

One result of the failure to make sufficient connections between feeling and language (developing a language of feeling) is shame.  Shame is constituted in relationship because it only exists as a result of empathic failure.  Shame is the most pernicious and destructive of emotions and begins with the experience of being shunned, rejected, squashed.  Since the development of self is dependent on affect regulation (the regulation of emotion), and affect regulation is dependent on secure attachment; and secure attachment is dependent on a parent’s attunement to her child’s basic needs for safety, security, recognition, approval, acceptance, and a mixture of structure and stimulation, if a language isn’t developed to reflect healthy affect regulation and secure attachment, a shame-based psychology will most certainly occur.  This means that throughout life one will be particularly vulnerable to criticism, rejection, and abandonment and in fact create that reality. 

 

It’s understandable then that the primary function of the therapeutic is to emotionally unpack the set of beliefs formed around shame vis-à-vis developing a language for emotional expression of experience.  We are then better able to think of the right words to say and say the right words to feel.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8qdnhBP2tWY

Go on....

Om, you've opened a very important door, one which many including myself seem challenged to open.  So having cracked the door, elaborate on how one "unpacks the set of beliefs formed around shame".  How does one find the words which fail to be expressed out of fear, and perhaps more basic, how does one expand the space between experiencing the trigger which leads to being enveloped by the feelings.  I've sometimes felt that if I could expand the space and slow down my internal judgement/reaction I could move forward.  But how...

I'm stuck and perhaps others are too.

 

 

 

 

Bodhi, obviously Om will

Bodhi, obviously Om will have much to say on this, but I feel similar to you, especially with regard to shame and unpacking beliefs, which even though I identify as such, are still hard to move away from.

I think creating space and slowing down judgement is one of the benefits of meditation, which we've discussed a lot here. And finding the words, and learning to communicate in spite of fear, with an aim to understand and dissolve it, is the intention that we can bring into practice in our relationships. Specifically finding safe relationships, in which the desire to form language around mute and painful feelings as they arise is central.

I've said this before, but I really believe that fear can transform from an obstacle to an opening for intimacy when it is approached with this intention in a relationship. I've been dealing with this a bit recently in one of my relationships, in which the tension between myself as an individual vs. the needs of the relationship became apparent. For all sorts of reasons, I experience a great deal of anxiety around these kinds of issues, as does my friend, and so fear naturally began to solidify the space between us. But in brining language and communication into the fear, speaking directly about how the fear was changing our relating, it actually became very intimate and authentic.

To me that's very cool indeed.

First Thoughts in Response to Feeling, Language, and Om

Hey Om! I’m not sure we’ve addressed this directly before, but I’m glad we are now. It seems that developing a language of affect is so important because language is one of the primary ways in which we express and meet our needs in relationship. Without adequate language —and to me this means not just vocabulary but the ability to create narrative around emotional states—it is impossible to understand, communicate, and meet the subtle needs communicated by feelings. The shame you are speaking of, with which I am very familiar, is alienating and isolating; and because self is constituted relationally, it is self-alienating and self-isolating. The empathic failures I remember experiencing in past relationships not only left me feeling disconnected from the other party, but also from myself. So of course, failure of language is inherently related to failure of relationship.

I’m thinking about the sense we have of being in a relationship with our ‘self.’ How do I view and relate to myself? Am I responsive to my needs? Do I know myself? It occurs to me in reflecting on your post that this experience of interiority as relationship is largely about language. The health of this self-relationship (introspection and awareness) is a reflection of the sophistication of one’s language, one’s ability to employ language in order to ‘see’ and understand emotional experience with clarity.

I have a sense that this linguistic capacity is not necessarily equivalent to the language you and I are employing here, but it has the quality of being able to be expressed in relationships, and is most certainly formed and developed through them. In my day-to-day experience, I find the practice to be noticing and connecting behavior (which is, in a way, the loudest and most continuous emotional expression) with feelings, using narrative language as a bridge. But no matter what, the process requires the constant feedback and recognition of relationship in order to make any progress.

I'm also curious whether those who have suffered real empathic failures of some kind or another need to develop a more robust feeling-language in order to compensate and ultimately overcome the isolation those failures engendered. I see people who seem to be very healthily related and connected, without necessarily utilizing the direct psychologically oriented language we use here. It seems that their feeling language is very much implicit, whereas I consider this form of dialogue to be very explicit and contentiously developed.

Two other thoughts I’ve had in response to your post: First, I think that the quality and capacity of our language informs, both directly and contextually, the experience we have of our feelings. For as language and understanding become subtler, the way we feel through, toward, and within that widening field of relationships also seems to expand.

Perhaps it is that our needs become more complicated as the context through which we experience, and understand experience, evolves. And so with each growth of language, there seem to arise subtler needs, which lead to subtler and more complicated states of feeling, and then again the need to further refine our language. Or perhaps it is that we as we experience emotional conflicts as we grow, they demand expression in more complicated and encompassing worldviews. Each time there is a need to recreate our language in order to resolve new tensions.

At the same time, language is never the same as feeling; it never can captures or contain the intangibility of deep feeling. But it can communicate that feeling. I suppose it is like the poem, which as Elliot said, communicates before being understood.

UNPACKING THE UNPACKED: RESPONSE TO BODHI AND NOAH

Yes, I agree, expanding space and alleviating judgment are necessary prerequisites for the unpacking process.  But, I hear both of you, at least in subtle ways, also focusing on the “how” of that process.  What does that thought process reflect, I wondered.  Is it another one of those dualistic slippery slopes that makes one forget that `I’ is only `I’ in relation to?  Does it reveal that same isolation you both refer to and which leaves one anxiously in need of fixing or figuring out?  What specifically is stimulating this need to figure out what it is we think we don’t know?  This is the paradox of this type of self-knowledge: to let go of the need to know results in knowing.  It’s quite subtle but real because it is this very need to know that is “self” feeling isolated.  To let go of the need to know is to let go of a “self” that, by its very definition, is mired in isolation and impermeable space.   This self is “thinglike,” while the letting go is “thoughtlike.”  Self, because it is isolated, is fraught with anxiety and the need to control (know).  The letting go of self is free from anxiety because isolation is replaced with relatedness and the openness of permeable space.  Shame, as existing only in self, is comparing and competing with other selves.  And so, no self, no shame.  What we are ultimately unpacking is thus the belief in an independent, permanent self. 

 

Now, what is the mechanism of that unpacking which not only provides a conceptual understanding of no-self but, the development of healthy affect regulation and new, (thought/feeling) integrated neural circuits, or pathways?  The mechanism addresses Noah’s questions: “How do I view and relate to myself? Am I responsive to my needs? Do I know myself?”  The mechanism is: needed or corrective relationship.  Since there is no real separate self, it is through the needed relationship that the flow of consciousness we may call thought products literally changes perceptual and conceptual cognitions of self.  This corrective process is called internalization, or transmuting internalization and by way of consistent empathic immersion (deep, wise, compassionate caring) on the part of a therapeutic “other,” previous self-afflicting organizing principles and psychic structures transform both one’s level of awareness (from only self to other to all selves to all beings) and level of being (from independent to interconnected) vis-à-vis increasing one’s ways of knowing (eg, though senses, through reason, through intuition/feelings).  And yes, language is the signifying agent of that procedural change.  

 

 

THE BRAIN SIDE OF CONSCIOUSNESS

 Though I recognize its significance to (and, we might say, its inseparability from) mind, I admit that the brain side of consciousness is less interesting to me.  However, I do think about it from therapeutic, meditation, and philosophical perspectives.  What happens in the brain, for example, when we’re stressed?  And how does neurobiology influence our thoughts, feelings, and behavior? We might say that a deluded mind is rooted in a neural circuitry lacking integration.  Or that affect dysregulation and dis-ordered attachment reflects a brain that is neurally patterned to dysregulate and prevent a healthy attachment psychology and behavior. 

 

With mind we talk about process; with brain we talk about structures.  Though structures and processes are two distinct sides of consciousness (particle/wave), as I said, they are inseparable.  I see brain as the space of mind’s time.  Brain is the past of mind’s present.  Brain structures have already been created and, as such, are objects of observation.  Mind is in the process of creating, moment to moment; and so, this moment of mind (presence) becomes the past moment of brain.  With this schema, you can see how mind literally shapes brain structure and, inversely, how brain’s already created structures govern mind’s ability to stay present. 

 

Let’s take, for example, one brain structure called the amygdala.  The amygdala is considered the “alarm bell” of the brain because it responds to perceived emotionally charged stimuli.  Once that alarm goes off, another structure, the thalamus, relays a signal to your brain stem, which in turn releases a stimulating hormone called norepinephrine throughout the brain.  Then your sympathetic nervous system sends signals to the major body organs and muscles readying them for fighting or fleeing.  Then, your hypothalamus, the brain’s primary regulator of the endocrine system, orders the pituitary gland to signal the adrenal glands to release stress hormones: adrenaline and cortisol.

 

From an evolutionary point of view, this system governs survival.  However, when survival is no longer an issue, and your lifestyle simulates a survival landscape, the brain is over-functioning and a number of physical and psychological problems will potentially occur as a result.  Another name for this is suffering.  This is why contemporary neuroscience has become fascinated with meditation.  Meditation is a practice that has both measured (observable) and beneficial (felt) consequences for the meditator. 

 

This is also one reason why I have been a strong advocate of an integrated approach to therapy, which includes psychoanalytic inquiry (process) and meditation practice.  When brain is adequately prepared to assist mind in its necessary process of self-inquiry, the therapeutic process is no doubt more open and welcoming.  Being adequately prepared means, for example, being better able to regulate one’s emotions.  If I’m too anxious or depressed, there is less of a chance I will be able to absorb or even engage in a deep dismantling process.  It doesn’t mean I won’t, but it will be much slower and more difficult.  As Bodhi said, we need to keep the space of inquiry open.

Temperament

 

Om, I’m happy you have mentioned brain structure. I became mildly depressed after reading an article in the New York Times last fall that connected anxiety to brain structure. In particular, the article discussed research that showed that people with anxious temperaments often have a thin cortex that does not regulate the amygdala as effectively as a thicker cortex. The article drew this conclusion: “The predictive power of an anxiety-prone temperament, such as it is, essentially works in just one direction: not by predicting what these children will become but by predicting what they will not. In the longitudinal studies of anxiety, all you can say with confidence is that the high-reactive infants will not grow up to be exuberant, outgoing, bubbly or bold. Still, while a Sylvia Plath almost certainly won’t grow up to be a Bill Clinton, she can either grow up to be anxious and suicidal, or simply a poet. Temperament is important, but life intervenes.” Reading this article left me feeling hopeless, because it implied that there might be a serious limitation to my personal development and quest for inner-peace—my brain chemistry. 
                                         
So I’d like to pose a question: What role does temperament play in spiritual and psychological development? And is there a benefit to understanding and accepting our temperaments?

ASHER'S SLIPPERY SLOPE OF SCIENCE

 Hey Asher, welcome back.  I suspect you like speedy slopes but don’t allow yourself to fall down the slippery ones of mind. Though it would be irresponsible to devalue the brilliant insights of science, it would also be irresponsible for me to ignore the limitations of scientific findings.  What science gives us is reliability.  As franklin Merrell-Wolffe states (see my post `What Makes Science Science’),

“It begins with three things: the intellect, the raw physical material of science, and an interpretive theory. The intellect controls and allows for navigation between raw material and theory.  What the intellect actually does is manipulate nature.”  But, nature is far more diverse and idiosyncratic than science could measure, even though what it can measure is remarkably accurate and factually useful. 

 

And so, the article says, “The predictive power of an anxiety-prone temperament, such as it is, essentially works in just one direction: not by predicting what these children will become but by predicting what they will not. In the longitudinal studies of anxiety, all you can say with confidence is that the high-reactive infants will not grow up to be exuberant, outgoing, bubbly or bold.”

 

This is such a great set of sentences to deconstruct.  Before I respond, I’d like you other posters to critique it.  Let's also read the article.

I do like steep slopes. 

I do like steep slopes.  But only with skis and a helmet.  If I'm going off-trail, I prefer not to go alone.  And if we will enter really new and difficult terrain, I prefer to find a guide:-)

Predestined to what ?

Asher, thanks for bringing up such an important topic and for sharing the article you read. The quote from the article which Om included in his posting regarding the predictive power of an anxiety-prone temperament makes me want to laugh or shake my head in disbelief. It wasn’t long ago scholars pronounced the earth was flat and the world thought it must be true, for those more knowledgeable about geography than the average individual had declared it. The science community today is only scratching at the surface of truly understanding the complexity of the brain. And given the small percentage any of us actually uses of our brain, I think it is dangerous for anyone to proclaim in absolute terms what is or isn’t possible.   It seems to me, the only thing anyone can say with ‘confidence’ is that everything evolves even one’s emotional state.  I would like to suggest that the complex functioning of the brain is more idiosyncratic and diverse than today’s scientific community can at this point fully measure. This isn’t to suggest that brain mapping or functional analysis isn’t important. Or that there aren’t differences in one’s temerament given a right or left brain dominance, one’s life experiences, along with one’s personal karma, and that these factors impact how one views reality or creates a dillusional sense of reality. However, for the author to conclude an individual has an “inborn temperament” and therefore “will not grow up to be…” I find disconcerning. 

 
In the article, Kegan says, “They (human beings) can’t outrun their own natures: consciously or unconsciously they remain the same uneasy people they were when they were little.”   If this statement were true, than “I” would be a solid, never changing. If I believed in a duality reality or universe perhaps I would find such a statement comforting.  There would be no faith that things will/can change, that although we all suffer and experience afflictive emotions, that  nothing is permanent – not even one’s state of mind. For Kegan’s statement to be valid, ‘self’ would have to exist.
 
From my personal experiences, life isn’t linear – sometimes I wish it was, but that’s my issue rather than reality. I have to laugh when the author says, “high-reactive infants will not grow up to be …outgoing,… or bold.” Again from my personal experiences as an individual who’s stress hormones were always in over-drive, I internalized my anxiety and was driven to be out-going and upbeat as a means of hiding my fear that just around the corner things were going to fall apart. I assumed rejection from others or failure in professional situations, and was therefore driven to succeed so the inevitable failure would be postponed. The fact that professionally things never did fall apart was beside the point. Outwardly, I appeared strong, I was told by many nothing seemed to rattle me, inwardly I was mush. My anxiety led me to seek control whenever possible especially in new situations. I wouldn’t allow myself to just experience life.
 As a matter of fact, I missed out on a lot of life because of my own rigidity and the personal walls I created – perhaps I should have been a mason.
 
I’m glad to admit these patterns are evolving in a more positive direction. I have found refuge in meditation along with a wise teacher to help me first find my true path in life. I no longer constantly expect everything to fall apart, expect rejection from relationships, or fear being out of control. I’m learning how to relax, to experience emotions for what they are and not turn them into concrete entities, fixed for all eternity. Now I must admit, this is a really slow process, one frought with set-backs, as I mentioned life isn’t always linear.  Kegan’s words express the limitations of his knowledge more than they demonstrate an understanding of the complexity of a sentient being’s brain/mind interaction. Yes, there are many studies which examine brain mapping and the physiological changes solicited by different behaviors or emotional responses.   Research does sustantiate the notion of anxiety or other afflictive emotions causing a thickening in the prefrontal cortex of the brain.   However, there is also evidence that through concentrated training, the actual neuron connections can be altered in a positive manner.
 
I like to think of myself as the weaver who upon stepping back to look at my creation - me, decides to alter the tapestry by replacing some of the yarn. I don’t have to throw the entire piece out, merely alter the pattern which exists at this moment in time, which will lead to the creation of a new image. Each time I view the tapestry, I see something new, understand it a bit more, and decide what to keep or adjust as I continue working the loom. I no longer worry what the future will bring – most of the time. 
 
Drawing on another example, I would mention a young man whom I know. Perhaps ‘John’ (not his real name) had an inborn temperament with a tendency to be anxious, based on his pre-birth or early infant experiences, he might have inherited this tendency from his birth parents, who knows. For whatever reasons he was afraid of the world, and as he grew up and his world expanded, his fears ballooned to fill the space of his ever-expanding world. Relating to others, trying new things, engaging with the world were not elements of his comfort zone. Then one day, he was introduced to someone he would eventually come to trust and listen to with his heart, and the detanglement of his anxiety commenced. The process is slow but progress is evident. Slowly over time, as he walks into his fears, he is learning they aren’t the monsters he thought they were. New experiences become just a bit less anxiety producing – the majority of the time. John has a long way to go and he may always battle his tendency to become immobilized by anxiety, but this tendency doesn’t have to be a cement frame representing his destiny, limiting his future. He has already proven this to those who know him and more importantly he is slowly internalizing this himself. 
 
I think it is important to remember that anxiety, like all afflictive emotions is neither the totality of life or permanent. One’s true nature is pure and good and not grounded in a tendency.
 
Asher, if you haven’t read either Destructive Emotions, by Daniel Goeman or Brilliant Sanity, edited by Francis Kaklauskas, I would recommend you do. Both books speak to the need to combine Western psychology with Buddhism when looking at human emotions and how to eliminate the suffering afflictive emotions can cause. There is growing evidence that the elasticity of the brain is much more complex and able to develop alternative  patterns to correct either non-functioning or poorly functioning pathways well into adulthood.
 
I would love to hear what others think.

 

 

Good thoughts Bodhi, here are some more:

Hi Bodhi. I find a lot to agree with in your impassioned response to Kegan's article. In terms of the tone of what you write, I notice some anger toward the notion that we are predetermined or, in a stronger form, fated to develop and behave in certain ways based on our biological make up. This I can understand, and to some extent share. I would only like to point out that I do not think the claims made by the article equate with saying that those with anxious temperaments will never grow up to do x or y. I found this article to be, on the whole, very reasonable in its assertions about what science can claim. Lets take a closer look at that particular statement.

"In the longitudinal studies of anxiety, all you can say with confidence is that the high-reactive infants will not grow up to be exuberant, outgoing, bubbly or bold." Note that the author was careful to say "In the longitudinal studies." This statement is confined to a particular set of studies and a particular interpretation of the results. Within its context, it is accurate. The question is, to what extent are observations confined to a particular experiment such as this applicable and predictive in the larger, messier world. I think you are completely right to dispute the idea that an anxious temperament prescribes a fate that forecloses other possibilities. As we both know and have observed, radical changes in growth and development are possible, and transcendent personal evolution does indeed occur. But is this the norm, or something of a rarity? As you note, the brain is very elastic and capable of profound change. But what are the conditions that make such evolution possible, and how frequently do they arise? Were those conditions present for the test subjects? And all that aside, I still see a difference between asserting that a physiological temperament is completely deterministic, vs. observing that it is predictive of certain behaviors and dispositions.

I think it is important to account for both the observations of science and psychological and spiritual experience, as equally valid but differing ontological bases for knowledge. I did not find in the article a convincing argument for temperament determining achievement and possibility. What I am convinced of is that the temperament or physical situation we are born with will impact the course of our evolution, and the relationship we have with our growth. A predisposition to anxiety on the physiological level will shape my psychological experience, which in turn will direct the course and symbolism of my introspective and intersubjective inquiry. The mechanisms I create to at first cope with and later transcend that disposition are, according to the article, highly variable and largely influenced by my environment.

Since the studies referenced in the article probably are not considering the questions of psycho-spiritual development we are concerned with here, and since successful evolution of that ilk may be relatively rare and difficult to observe in early adulthood anyway, we have to be careful not to extend such findings too far. This is true of both scientists, but also, I think, our reactions to their findings. I do find the limited observations presented in the article useful, as they could potentially help me understand how my physiology interacts with my psychology .

As you aptly say, one’s true nature is pure and good and not grounded in a tendency. Though I would question whether you mean to equate bubbly outgoing and relaxed personalities with good and shy, withdrawn personalities with bad. In any case, I think a "tendency" would be more likely to determine behavior if we remain ignorant of it.

To reiterate, I agree with just about everything you've written, but I am interested in exploring how we relate these different epistomologies and the feelings that may impede our attempts to integrate them.

YOU'RE ALL LIARS

 

Outliers, that is :)  “An outlying observation, or outlier, is one that appears to deviate markedly from other members of the sample in which it occurs.”  I’m so appreciative of this dialogue and everyone here willing to put their hearts and minds in touch with each other.  The dialogue itself speaks to the elasticity of mind as it reaches beyond its reach, both intellectually and emotionally.  I find Bodhi’s radical observation striking: “. For Kegan’s statement to be valid, ‘self’ would have to exist.”   Which reminds me of the article’s claim that

 

“These [Kagan’s findings] are overgeneralizations, of course. And they’re easy to shoot down with exceptions. But all the exceptions mean, really, is that the link between neurology and behavior is complicated. There may well be hundreds of different temperaments, and these studies have investigated only two — the most stable and most amenable to measurement, but still just two. If it were as simple as saying that a high-reactive infant will become a behaviorally inhibited child who will become an anxious adult, all the scientific work on temperament would amount to little more than charting horoscopes.” (Italics mine).

 

Which seems to support Bodhi’s argument that “the complex functioning of the brain is more idiosyncratic and diverse than today’s scientific community can at this point fully measure.”  And Noah greatly agrees with Bodhi but wants us to consider a “middle way” (which I don’t think Bodhi would refute:

 

“This statement [Kagan’s findings] is confined to a particular set of studies and a particular interpretation of the results. Within its context, it is accurate. The question is, to what extent are observations confined to a particular experiment such as this applicable and predictive in the larger, messier world. I think you are completely right to dispute the idea that an anxious temperament prescribes a fate that forecloses other possibilities. As we both know and have observed, radical changes in growth and development are possible, and transcendent personal evolution does indeed occur. But is this the norm, or something of a rarity? As you note, the brain is very elastic and capable of profound change. But what are the conditions that make such evolution possible, and how frequently do they arise? Were those conditions present for the test subjects?” (italics mine).

 

Noah’s questions seem to at least implicitly concur with Bodhi’s ultimate statement that there is more we don’t understand about the brain than what we do know, and the fact that we have outliers, by their nature, seem to, not so much repudiate Kagan’s findings, but limit their generalizability.   And this is the whole point, as far as I’m concerned.  As Noah further points out, there is “still see a difference between asserting that a physiological temperament is completely deterministic, vs. observing that it is predictive of certain behaviors and dispositions.”

 

This is all well and good, but there are still three points I’d like to make.  One we have pretty much suggested but I would like to underscore, that is, that both statements are true:  1) that an anxiety-prone temperament exists and has predictive power for later life experience; and 2) that that predictive power is circumscribed by other, psychological, mental, and environmental factors. 

 

The second point I’d like to make is that a Buddhist template superimposed on these findings would be more inclusive: in conventional reality, temperament has predictive power basically because in conventional (dual) reality very little is challenged and, as such, mind (and, thus, brain) is less elastic.  In nondual, or ultimate reality, however, temperament is merely another obstacle, a fart in the road that dissolves along with other mental factors at the moment of realization.  And further, realization allows mind to reach back into conventional reality and pull the plug on all things rigidly adhered to, including temperament, and it is that recursively expanding elasticity that engenders the very changes in temperament, or in fact, overriding temperament in ways that Bodhi has suggested.

 

My third and last point I think is most interesting and one in which I suggested to Asher earlier today.  I differentiate between a true and false temperament.  A true temperament is one in which Kagan refers to in the article.  The false temperament is one that mimics the true temperament but in fact is psychologically induced vis-à-vis parenting behavior (or, for that matter, as my friend Josh suggests, nutritional and a toxic environment).  As aforementioned, I have always weighed more heavily on the nurture side of consciousness and feel strongly about one’s ability to make significant and beneficial changes, irrespective of genetic or constitutional factors. The key, of course, is the level of motivation and intellectual/emotional resources at hand to effectuate change.  One reason for this is personal.  Though not innately a high-reactive infant, the level of emotional trauma and neglect I experienced was sufficient to foster high reactivity and hypervigilance.  As a child and especially an adolescent I suffered serious social phobia and intense anxiety and depression.  I became increasingly isolated to the point of being truant in high school. 

 

Over a long period of time, like Emily, I worked through these intense internal ruptures and was able to dismantle for the most part the psychological armor that inhibited my behavior.  In the end, my “truer” self emerged, which is relaxed, intimate, extroverted, and open to new experiences.  With that said, I also have a strong introverted side, such that living in a monastery would probably suit me well.

intense and appreciated

I just wanted to say that I appreciate the depth of this discussion and I'm watching from the sidelines.  The dialogue has veered way beyond my domain of expertise to be able to comment in any sophisticated way, but it's still well within my domain of aspiration to learn, so thanks.

Sophisticated - Dribble

Sasha, no one is really an expert especially when it comes to comprehending the functioning of the human brain.  We're all like toddlers  exploring the world  and discovering how interconnected we are.  So join in and share your thoughts and questions.  I enjoy listening to you.

BODHI AND SASHA

Bodhi,  I've become more familiar with drivel these days.  Read the last article Noah posted on depression for some real drivel.  And Sasha, Bodhi is correct. What you are reading here from posters is a deep passion for self-awareness and intimacy.  Don't let the words fool you.  How are you feeling these days?

IM POSTING THIS ON BEHALF OF OM's FRIEND

Om Effortlessly,

Thank you for your thoughtful and integrative view of the mind/brain connection. From my vantage point as a psychoanalytic psychotherapist, yoga practitioner and student of brain targeted nutrition therapy, these methodologies are all tools for reaching the same state of mind. In yoga, this state is called "Santosha", a contentment to be in this moment and not wishing it different in any way. As any of us who has paid attention to our own internal process knows, this state is difficult to attain even for a fleeting moment. This becomes even more obvious in bearing witness to the stories we hear from patients on a daily basis. What is striking to me is the amount of suffering that I see on a daily basis in my office and in the world.

Why is there so much more suffering now? Some of it has to do with the the mismatch between our primitive brain and our modern world as Om alludes to? Our Limbic system, the core of our emotional brain, is wired to respond to danger by setting off a cascade of brain/body chemicals that will keep up alert and responsive. This helped us catch dinner and avoid BEING dinner. This same brain, infinitely helpful in a world of danger and scarcity, is the bane to our existence now that we are relatively safe and provisions are everywhere. For some of us, relatively minor dangers in the world, a car alarm or barking dog become reasons for our brain's "alarm system" to respond. And when it responds, it responds full force every time. The Limbic switch is either on or it's off. What this leads to is an extreme case of dysregulation leading 1st symptoms of anxiety and after the some time to depression.

The bigger issue in my estimation is more of a software issue. The mental health decline that has happened over the past 100 years has to do with physical imbalance in the brain and bodily systems that allow us to feel balanced and think clearly. The cause of the imbalances are nutritional in nature. We are NOT feeding our brains the raw materials it needs to function optimally. Most of us are crystal clear that our diet is affecting our physical health. Diabetes, Cardiovascular Disease, and cancer rates are increasing exponentially. But what about the link between "Food and Mood". We are exposed to too much chemicalized artifical junk food, hormone and antibiotic laiden meat, pesticides covered veggies and fruits, and more chemical additives than you can name. If the brain is the most sensitive organ of the body (the 1st sign of many physical diseases is cognitive or emotional) how can we be expected to maintain a positive mood and sharp intellect eating "franken foods".

In your discussion about the brain and mind you allude to the fact that, brain is structure to mind's process. In some ways, I think that illustration is true, you can look at the brain as "form". There are parts of the brain that have identifiable functions: the frontal lobes and executive functioning, the amygdala and emotional responsiveness etc. In some ways this is a static view of the brain and represents old thinking (though I know you clearly have awareness of the fluidity of the brain as you talk about the interest in meditation by neuroscientists and it's ability to change the physical brain). I believe that neuroscience is nearly finished with the first phase of understand the brain. The mapping process is nearly complete. We largely know where how functionality and brain topography connect.

The next phase of brain science seems to be to address the "process" of the brain. New brain imaging techniques like the SPECT scan and fMRIs are allowing brain watchers to study the movement of the the chemicals of the brain and the intricate concert that occurs between systems of the body(i.e. in anxiety how does the brain light up and how does it change with intervention be that therapy, meditation, nutritional repair). "Functional Medicine" doctors are able to measure neurotransmitter levels, hormone levels and general nutritional status levels to better understand what is causing brain over or under excitation and dysregulated states. Most issues involving the brain are actually functional brain issues rather than structural issues. As such, these new diagnostic tools will greatly enhance our ability to provide more targeted and healing brain/body interventions. What is even more interesting is the interconnectedness of different bodily systems involved on cognitive and mood functioning. Since Candace Pert, the author of Molecules of Emotion identified opiate receptors outside of the brain, the field of Psych-neuro-immunology has created a more sophisticated notion of the MindBody.

One of my mentors makes an important distinction between "true" and "false" moods. "True moods" are real moods that can be addressed at a therapeutic level because they are emotional in nature. "False moods" are caused by brain/ brain imbalances, mostly caused by nutritional deficiency or toxicity of one kind or another. They can look the same to an observer but need to be addressed at different levels. For instance, premestural mood dysredulation, a true mood or a false mood? Depressive or anxiety symptoms caused by inadequate serotonin levels, a true mood or a false mood? Hypothyroid depression, true of false mood?

21st century mental health will be integrative in nature. For many patient's that come to therapy to alleviate suffering, the roots of their difficulty is at it's foundation rooted in the Brain-Body matrix. For instance, 95% of alcoholics are hypoglycemic. Until this issue is dealt with at a physiological level, recovery and psychological unwinding will be a very frustrating process and will likely lead to relapse. There are many other examples of physiology holding the psychology in place. Addressing the physical in these cases will allow the other aspects of the process to flower. With the right soil the lotus plant can take root and bloom fully...then psycho-spiritual blossoming becomes available.

Shame fuels competition

 

What grabbed me about your post, Om (Unpacking the Unpacked), was the connection you drew between self, shame, and competition/comparing. I think I might be taking this in a different direction than you meant in your post, but anyhow… Competition, as I believe you are using the word, entails conflict. Not in the emotional sense that you sometimes write about, but in the sense of me versus him or her. I often find my mind creating and playing out conflicts—sometimes in dreams and other times in waking hours. These conflicts are mostly rooted in past (perceived) interpersonal disputes, but they are exaggerated in my mind. And they are always uncomfortable. Yet, when I am imagining such a conflict, I can’t let it go. I want to see it through to the end. I cling to it. 
 
What dawned on me when reading the post was the possible relationship between the conflicts I cling to and my shame—that feeling of badness or inadequacy. To flesh this out—if I feel shame and am attached to my sense of self, it makes sense that I would then cling to self-contained thoughts of conflict. I can always prevail in my skull-sized kingdom, recuperating the sense of self damaged by shame. 
 
Shame fuels competition. 
 
I’d like to note that I am thinking of competition in the non-friendly sense. I do not see necessary harm in what is referred to as “friendly competition.” The problem, to me, is when we take competition too seriously—when we value ourselves based on relative success in competition.  I admit, not doing so is often hard to do when shame comes knocking.  I imagine it would be a lot easier if all relationships were corrective.

Passing of a broken man ...

KDK, February 22, 1918 - February 23, 1983
 
February 22, 1918 on a cold Chicago dawn, a baby boy was born.  He was the second son of immigrant parents, who sought their dreams in the new country where streets were paved with gold.  However, this little one would never experience that side of life.

 His childhood was marred by a war he didn’t start and a depression which led to his parents splitting and his mother declaring she didn’t want her small boys. He and his brother spent several years in an over-crowded orphanage waiting.  Waiting for their mother to say, “I want you more than I want my new life.”  Or a father who could prove he could manage the needs of two young boys on his modest salary.  The day finally came and the courts let their father take his boys home.  The brothers were set free, but true freedom was not to be his fate.

 He joined the Army air core, married and headed off to secure world freedom and fulfill his destiny.  The atrocities of war he would never speak of as the years passed.  The impact of the bombs he dropped were sealed in the crevices of his mind to haunt him for the rest of his life.   Saved by a French farmer after being shot down, he couldn’t bring himself to return years later with the other survivors of Troop 946 airborne to visit the farm.  He would never bring closure to the memory of those long days of hiding in the root cellar from patrolling Nazi troops, the bombs he dropped on so many villages, weren’t balanced by the generosity of one modest French family, who risked their lives to save 6 scared young American soldiers. 

 While he lade hidden in the earth, his first born was born and died.  His wife feared he was dead and mourned the loss of their baby, while she survived on saltines and tea.  She never forgave herself for the death of her first born. She spent the rest of her life mourning the lose of her baby and believing the baby was in hell for never having been properly blessed by a Lutheran minister.   Her first born, the daughter he never held and carried the names of both her grandmothers - united in name two families which never experienced what happiness really meant.

 While his return from the war was marked with joy by family and friends, his heart had been scared for life as was his ability to love or nurture anyone including himself.  He became paralyzed by the haunting memories of his past. 

 As time passed this injured soldier retreated to the precision of  his professional world and became increasingly distant from his growing family.  As his wife grew more ill, unable to control her mental demons, this husband, father of three closed his eyes to what was happening before him.  He spent his time either in the office, on the golf course or avoiding the roles of husband and father.  He never acknowledged the accomplishments of his children.  The theme of his life seemed to be one of increasing disengagement from those closest to him.   He’d tell his youngest, he had fundamental differences with her mother.  What the hell did that mean, she would ask herself for many years to come.  She still doesn’t know what exactly that meant.  They never spoke of what repeatedly happen in his wife’s domain  – the shroud of silent shame seemed to paralyze both father and daughter.  The older children seemed blinded to what happened to their sister.  Perhaps they all thought it would stop, or if they didn’t discuss it, it hadn’t really happened, or perhaps they condoned it.  As time passed his youngest grew to believe that some individuals were simply born not to be loved and she was one of those.  For reasons not clear, she was less worthy than others so it didn’t matter what happened to her, she must have deserved it.  No matter how hard she tried, it was never good enough which really meant, she wasn't.

 Time marched on and like his father before him, his heart gave way, perhaps the burden of carrying so much pain simply became too much.  His physical decline was drawn out as his emotional pain had been.  Heart attacks, pacemakers, amputation of a leg all left their mark on his physical body.  I remember his hospital visits as if they were yesterday.  From the cardiac ICU to the amputation of his leg, I was there.  My role was to support and try to ensure things ran smoothly for everyone else.  Finally less than 24 hours after marking his 65th year on this earth, as his father before him, he died - leaving behind him a host of unanswered questions, and many simply marked by one word, “why?”

 Today marks the 27th anniversary of both his birth and death.  His life shall be recalled by a few simple stories his two remaining children share with their families and the stone baring his name along his wife’s.  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Some memories have faded but one still lingers – “WHY?”  While the intensity has greatly diminished and many demons have evolved into neutral memories, this question still remains.

 I hope and pray in death he found the freedom and peace he never experienced in life.

BODHI, BROKEN MEN, AND UNBROKEN BEING

  

 

Bodhi, whenever I read a personal story about war and its aftermath, my father’s tragic life is immediately invoked.  Thank you for this most beautiful missive and elegiac.  What strikes me, of course, is “Finally less than 24 hours after marking his 65th year on this earth… a host of unanswered questions, and many simply marked by one word, “why?””

 

What does “Why” mean to those of us who have karmically inherited the tragic residue of our parents?  Why do we need to know?  I guess we are storytellers by nature, aren’t we?  And the narrative, by its very nature, seeks coherence, cohesiveness, and even a telos from which the complexity of consciousness called our lives feels integrated.  But, still, why does the “why” ultimately matter? What is it about my and your genetic thread so compelling that is ostensibly different from the larger collective genetic thread whose branches and roots are even wider and deeper respectively than the familial?

 

My question is: Why are we attached to the specific facts of our particular genetic “material” and those who have raised us and look most like us; to such an extent that we “use” these facts to fortify a deluded sense of self? 

 

I am reminded of the Native American Lakota word signifying and honoring all relationships in world. The word is Mitakuye Oyasin and it literally means all my relations.  Like most Native Americans, the Lakota envisioned the universe as a living and breathing being, a fused web of interconnectedness that includes the inanimate world.  Similar to the Buddhist vision, it is the realization of this interconnectedness, Emptiness, from which all arises, abides, and ceases, that guides us psychologically away from the “Why” of our parents and towards the as is of our collective world and universe.

 

Not that it is unnecessary to understand the immediate psychological circle of our beings amid the many ontological circles of our being with, we just need to “see” further: that the psychological and immediate is a whole that is part of larger never-ending ascending wholes of eros, the understanding of which will free us from suffering.

 

father’s private war at tarawa, 1943PRIVATE

 

heat guts the air out from my tent

a makeshift home of flaps and thread.

soon it will be light, another attack--

we will comb the beach, again, for camps

yellow streaks of men from across the sea.

 

hundreds of corpses have littered the beach

hot sand sends needles through my feet

even now in the dead of night

as i step over bodies. the embers

of smoke weave in and out like ghosts rising

up and outward toward the sea.  i wait

for light to pull back the dream of sleep

for time to flicker out.

 

i can no longer absorb the world

the artifacts of my existence.

The flaps of my quick-passing life

flutter open, layer upon layer--

i can't even move, my body wracked with dust, sweat

the stench beads off my skin like flocks of birds. 

 

i suck in the sweet death of a cigarette

a nipple between swollen lips

take my last drag, and wait. 

the tent ripples like sea against wind

in a dark i can feel beneath skin

i scope the spaces of my mind

no longer knowing who the enemy is.

Asher & Om--Interesting Article on Anxiety Indeed

I actually found that piece to be very well balanced with respect to its gloss on what could and could not be said about the correlating trends between anxious temperament and behavior over the long term. The relationship between physical brain structures and "temperament," seems somewhat well defined, while the correspondence between temperament, behavior, and subjective experience appears to be much more dynamic and difficult to map. And of course, environment plays a huge role in any course of development.

I found the article's description of reactive infants and the observed trends in their development startlingly similar to my subjective experience. As far as I understand, I was a highly reactive infant with an over-sensitive startle response; I am struggling with the physiological effects of this reactivity presently. Additionally, the description of children growing up learning to project an appearance of relative calm and composure, while inwardly feeling fraught with anxiety, resonates strongly with my own experience. Further, I recognized the high sensitivity and almost automatic monitoring of changes in body (heart rate, breathing, points of tension etc.) that the article described. Though these 'symptoms' are unpleasant and problematic, I don't think they are inherently negative and can be transformed, over time, into highly developed introspective and empathic abilities. With anxiety comes an intense sensitivity, which can be cultivated and transformed into insight.

Asher, you write "reading this article left me feeling hopeless, because it implied that there might be a serious limitation to my personal development and quest for inner-peace—my brain chemistry." I did not see that implication in the article at all; on the contrary I got the impression that those inclined toward anxious / depressive ruminations were more likely to be oriented toward contemplative work. I suspect the attitude which you take toward your "temperament," and the commitment you make to grow, is usually of more importance than the hand you've been dealt. I also believe that physiological sensitivities, especially with respect to anxiety, can be retrained, via meditation, introspection, bio-feedback programs, etc, over perhaps a lifetime of commitment and practice. By learning to develop the sensitivity but leave behind the fear, we have the potential to become very aware.

I will also admit that from our vantage, it appears that people with naturally calmer mind/bodies seem to have more fun and accomplish more. And I will probably never be a Bill Clinton or someone who is socially charismatic and assertive in that way. But I fail to see an inherent connection between psychological and spiritual development and temperament.

Passivity is a serious impediment to growth, true, but assertiveness without perspective is as well.

Om picked out “The predictive power of an anxiety-prone temperament, such as it is, essentially works in just one direction: not by predicting what these children will become but by predicting what they will not. In the longitudinal studies of anxiety, all you can say with confidence is that the high-reactive infants will not grow up to be exuberant, outgoing, bubbly or bold.”

I find this to be a suitably cautious and, with only my own experience with which to compare it, probably at least partly accurate statement. It seems reasonable to suggest than anxious temperaments restrict or inhibit certain behavioral and personality characteristics from manifesting. It seems certain that to some, the world feels much less secure and much more threatening than to others. That coloring will have profound impacts on how they approach relationship and uncertainty. But I would think that if the fear response could be retrained, those inhibitions might soften. Anxious as I am, in situations in which I feel safe I become quite outgoing and playful. If in spite of anxiety you choose to live expansively, you will be driven to develop emotional and physiological balance, to create safety and openness within yourself. For this reason, I suspect that anxious temperaments who choose to turn toward fear and live anyway would be more likely to seek opportunities for spiritual / psychological development.

Anxiety queen lives to tell story

Oh, I must weigh in regarding anxiety/anxious responses that shape personality. I hold myself up as an example of someone who, from the earliest age, was profoundly shy, anxious to the point of being unable to go to school, a person who vomited before exams, before doing anything where I thought people might call upon or notice me. (At the same time I was aching to be noticed). Just asking someone for directions, asking someone in a store for help in locating an item, created a well of fear. I would rather have my bladder burst than ask for a key to a gas station rest room. One on one, I could interact, but only after there was some kind of safety zone – a sense that the person who I was engaging was kind and would not hurt or judge me. I could not speak in class in high school and remember with such clarity and pain, doing amazing well in history, despite my learning disabilities, getting all A’s on exams, only to be told that I could not get an A because “ I would not speak in class.” When my husband and I got together, people were baffled as to why he was with me. I could sit through a long evening in complete silence. I spoke only if someone asked a question and even then my responses were minimal. Fear made me invisible. I wanted to be invisible. But, not really. The rest of me screamed to be seen. I was locked in a hell that I created in my mind. It often manifested in physical symptoms that made me feel ill. It did not occur to me at the time that certain experiences solidified and magnified this aspect of self. I thought this was who I was. Some kind of divine punishment for something I must have done.

 

I will not say that overcoming this state of mind, the fear, the racing heart, the sheer panic of having to walk across a room to go to the bathroom, was easy or happened quickly. But the desire to break the isolation became stronger than the fear that followed me, that lived in me. I felt like I was dying a slow and painful death and I wanted to live. I wanted to love and be loved. It wasn’t any one thing that changed me – but many. Good therapists, a role model here or there, meditation, and the overwhelming desire, followed by will and faith, that I could and would embody the person who I knew was cowering beneath the fear. I had no choice but to become a fighter to claim what was mine: myself. Self hatred, doubt, despair were my partners in a very long and destructive affair. These feelings – maybe, even old lovers, still poke me now and then. Sometimes, perhaps out of habit, I fill up my watering can, get a little compost and start to cultivate them again. But I get out there with my gardening gloves and start weeding. I wish these pesky little habits would disappear, but they don’t. I just try and control them, one weed at a time.

language and pain...

I just looked at a friend's baby website and the headline was "getting molars" and it made me stop and think about how at every age, and every stage of development, there is something that challenges us and seems like it's the biggest deal until it fades and something else arises in it's place.  Getting molars is pretty painful for an 18 month old and it happens before kids have any real language skills so it's not so dissimilar in my mind to pain that I might be experiencing at this stage of life and still don't have adequate language to really express.  Clearly I made it through the molar stage so I imagine that language will come to better undertstand, describe, and finally let go of the pain that for now is just a physical and psychological phenomenon.

 

And to answer your question Om, the fears of yesterday are gone for now (at least in the form they were taking yesterday) and today is new day.  Let's see what arises...