I've been thinking a lot about the brain lately. Since an
aneurysm burst inside my head 5 years ago, I guess you
could say I almost lost my mine. One thing that continues to
fascinate me is the difference between right-handed and left-
handed people, especially when they are couples, like Whitley
and I are. We find that since our gestures "mirror" each
other, when we try to work on a physical task together, we
become hopelessly entangled. I found a writer who thinks the
world is in a similar mess.
Even reading the paper over breakfast is a problem: We each
want to read it on the same side. It's my left and his right,
with the result that the newspapers physically overlap. But
we can't change: I could no more read the paper on the right
side of my plate than he could on his left.
I read a fascinating article by Iain McGilchrist in the Wall
Street Journal in which we questions the basic reason for the
brain being divided into two halves and says, "Almost every
function once thought to be the province of one or another
hemisphere (language, imagery, reason, emotion) is served by
both hemispheres not one." So why do we have two? He
comes to the conclusion, based on scientific evidence, that
the right hemisphere of the brain sees the whole picture,
while the left hemisphere focuses more on details.
Then I read an article by David Robson in New Scientist
Magazine in which he says, "The observation that groups of
brain cells seem to have their own version of quantum
entanglement, or 'spooky action at a distance,' could help
explain how our minds combine experiences from many
different senses into one memory." "Spooky action at a
distance" refers to the fact that when a photon is into two
halves, everything that one half does is instantly done by the
other half as well, no matter how far apart they are.
According to Robson, this happens with neurons as
well: "Experiments have shown that the electrical activity of
neurons in separate parts of the brain can oscillate
simultaneously at the same frequency." It's almost like having
a "twin" inside your own head!
McGilchrist goes further and compares the two halves of the
brain with competing cultures throughout history. He states
that "without the right hemisphere, we are socially and
emotionally insensitive and have an impaired understanding of
beauty, art and religion. Meanwhile, without the left
hemisphere, we struggle to bring detail into focus. If a culture
were ever to rely excessively on one take alone, there would
sooner or later need to be a correction."
In the brilliant film "The White Ribbon" which attempts to
explain why the German public accepted Nazism, Austrian
director Michael Haneke seems to be saying that post World
War I culture was too rigid and rule-bound: in other words,
too left-brained. In this case, the "correction" was World War
II and the subsequent partition of Germany.
McGilchrist writes, "In the West, there has been such an
imbalance. And as a consequence, over the past 2,500 years,
there has been a kind of battle going on in our brains, the
result of which has been, despite swings of the pendulum, an
ever greater reliance on the left hemisphere."
He feels that the tug of war between the halves of the brain
started with the culture of ancient Greece. At first, art and
science were basically in harmony: "The philosopher Thales
was able to predict correctly an eclipse of the sun,"
but "trouble was brewing." Starting with Plato, "philosophy
shifted from a respect for the hidden and implicit to an
emphasis on what can be made explicit alone."
This evolution (or perhaps the better term is DEvolution)
occurred again in ancient Rome. Rules and rigidity gradually
replaced creative searching and thinking. He sees this
happening yet again in the Renaissance, when at first "there
was an openness to things as they are, not in theory." And
later, in Elizabethan England, "In Shakespeare, unique
individuals repudiate the stereotypes demanded by the
structure of the play: Shylock commands our sympathy." But
the pendulum always seems to swing back to the left
(brain): "With the Reformation, there again saw a shift in
mentality towards what is certain, rigid, fixed and simplified.
The left hemisphere was fighting back. Ambiguity was no
longer a sign of richness, but of obscurity. Imagination was
mistrusted and metaphor became a lie."
Today, he says that in the US we "tend to see the world as a
heap of meaningless fragments. There is an inevitable rise in
bureaucracy. In going all out for what we believe will be our
own happiness, we exploit the world and see ourselves as
alien to it, rather than seeing that our happiness depends on
being part of it, and therefore in helping it to thrive. This is
the world of the left hemisphere, ever keen on control."
His phrase "metaphor became a lie" reminds me of my near-
death experience, when my deceased cat Coe took me on a
journey to the World of the Dead, where I saw people waiting
for the next bus or train, loaded down with bulging suitcases
and shopping bags. I knew they wouldn't be able to catch
that train until they were willing to put their baggage DOWN.
If I tell someone this story, their left brain will tell them that
this was an image produced by various subconscious
emotions, hormones and firing neurons at a time when death
seemed imminent. But if they listen to their right brains, the
message comes through loud and clear: Look at the big
picture, ignore all those pesky details, engage your emotions
and dare to take a leap into the unknown.
Related Entries:
19-Jan-2010: Tea Dancing
06-Jan-2010: Epiphany
30-Dec-2009: Homeless
10-Nov-2009: On NOT Going to a Movie about UFOs
20-Oct-2009: The Laughing Buddha
11-Oct-2009: The Red Coat
22-Sep-2009: Four Days
07-Sep-2009: Portents, Synchronicities (and Coincidences?)
27-Aug-2009: Two Birthdays
12-Aug-2009: Held Hostage by Hummingbirds
