My Stroke of Insight: A Brain Scientist's Personal Journey (21 page)

The really exciting news about acknowledging my right and left characters is that I always have an alternative way of looking at any situation - is my glass half full or half empty? If you approach me with anger and frustration, then I make the choice to either reflect your anger and engage in argument (left brain), or be empathic and approach you with a compassionate heart (right brain). What most of us don't realize is that we are unconsciously making choices about how we respond all the time. It is so easy to get caught up in the wiring of our pre-programmed reactivity (limbic system) that we live our lives cruising along on automatic pilot. I have learned that the more attention my higher cortical cells pay to what's going on inside my limbic system, the more say I have about what I am thinking and feeling. By paying attention to the choices my automatic circuitry is making, I own my power and make more choices consciously. In the long run, I take responsibility for what I attract into my life.

Nowadays, I spend a whole lot of time thinking about thinking just because I find my brain so fascinating. As Socrates said, "The unexamined life is not worth living." There has been nothing more empowering than the realization that I don't have to think thoughts that bring me pain. Of course there is nothing wrong with thinking about things that bring me pain as long as I am aware that I am choosing to engage in that emotional circuitry. At the same time, it is freeing to know that I have the conscious power to stop thinking those thoughts when I am satiated. It is liberating to know that I have the ability to choose a peaceful and loving mind (my right mind), whatever my physical or mental circumstances, by deciding to
step to the right
and bring my thoughts back to the present moment.

More often than not, I choose to observe my environment through the nonjudgmental eyes of my right mind, allowing me to retain my inner joy and remain detached from emotionally charged circuitry. I alone decide if something will have a positive or negative influence on my psyche. Recently, I was driving down the road singing at the top of my lungs with my favorite Ginger Curry
¹
CD, "I got

JOOOOOY in my heart!" To my chagrin, I was pulled over for speeding (apparently there was way too much enthusiasm going on behind the wheel!). Since receiving that ticket, I have had to make the decision at least 100 times to not feel down about it. This little voice of negativity kept trying to raise its ugly head and bum me out. It wanted to mull the drama over and over again in my mind, from every angle, but regardless of my contemplation, the situation would have the same outcome. Frankly, I find this sort of mental obsessing by my left hemisphere story-teller to be a waste of time and emotionally draining. Thanks to my stroke, I have learned that I can own my power and stop thinking about events that have occurred in the past by consciously realigning myself with the present.

With that said, however, there are some occasions when I will choose to step into the world as a single, solid, ego center separate from you. Sometimes it is just pure satisfaction for me to bump my left hemisphere stuff and attitudes up against your left hemisphere stuff and attitudes, in argument or passionate debate. More often than not, I don't like how aggression feels inside my body so I shy away from hostile confrontation and choose compassion.

For me, it's really easy to be kind to others when I remember that none of us came into this world with a manual about how to get it all right. We are ultimately a product of our biology and environment. Consequently, I choose to be compassionate with others when I consider how much painful emotional baggage we are biologically programmed to carry around. I recognize that mistakes will be made, but this does not mean that I need to either victimize myself or take your actions and mistakes personally. Your stuff is your stuff, and my stuff is my stuff. Feeling deep inner peace and sharing kindness is always a choice for either of us. Forgiving others and forgiving myself is always a choice. Seeing this moment as a perfect moment is always a choice.

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www.gingercurry.com

My good friend Dr. Jerry Jesseph lives his life by the philosophy "Peacefulness should be the place we begin rather than the place we try to achieve." I interpret this to mean that we should stem from the peaceful consciousness of our right mind and use the skills of our left mind to interact with the external world. He has also coined the phrase "dual interpenetrating awarenesses" to describe the relationship between the two halves of our brain. I think this is a profound and accurate perspective. Thanks to our corpus callosum, our two hemispheres are so intricately interwoven that we perceive ourselves as a single individual. However, through our understanding that we have two very distinct ways of being in the world, we can deliberately choose to have much more power over what's going on inside our brains than we ever imagined!

My left brain became competent again when it regained the ability to process information at fast rates of speed. Now that it is completely back online, it tends to reengage with life at what feels like a million miles an hour. Needless to say, the natural competition between my left hemisphere language centers and my right hemisphere's experience of inner peace has grounded me back in the normal human condition. A part of me is thrilled to be so

functional again. A bigger part of me is terrified.

This experience of losing my left brain has opened my mind to look more positively at people who have experienced various forms of brain trauma. I often wonder, in the absence of language or the ability to communicate with others in a normal way, what insights or abilities has that person gained? I don't feel sorry for people who are different from me or perceived as not normal anymore. I realize that pity is not an appropriate response. Instead of feeling repelled by someone who is different, I am drawn toward them with kindness and curiosity. I am fascinated by their uniqueness and compelled to establish a meaningful connection, even if it is merely direct eye contact, a kind smile, or appropriate touch.

When I take responsibility for the circumstances of my life, I put myself in the driver's seat and own my power. In an attempt to maintain my sanity (peaceful heart) in a world that often feels like it spins dangerously fast, I continue to work very hard to maintain a healthy relationship between what is going on in my right and left minds. I love knowing that I am simultaneously (depending on which hemisphere you ask) as big as the universe and yet merely a heap of star dust.

Everyone's brain is different but let me share with you some of the simple things I have found to be true for mine. It seems that the more aware I am about how I am influencing the energies around me, the more say I have in what comes my way. To monitor how things are going in my life, I pay very close attention to how things are flowing, or not flowing in the world around me. Depending on what I am attracting, I take responsibility for how things are going and consciously make adjustments along the way. This does not mean that I am in complete control of everything that happens to me. However, I am in control of how I choose to think and feel about those things. Even negative events can be perceived as valuable life lessons, if I am willing to
step to the right
and experience the situation with compassion.

Now that my left mind's language centers and storyteller are back to functioning normally, I find my mind not only spins a wild tale but has a tendency to hook into negative patterns of thought. I have found that the first step to getting out of these reverberating loops of negative thought or emotion is to recognize when I am hooked into those loops. For some of us, paying attention to what our brain is saying to us comes naturally. Many of my college students, however, complain vehemently that it takes way too much mental effort for them to simply observe what their brain is telling them. Learning to listen to your brain from the position of a nonjudgmental witness may take some practice and patience, but once you master this awareness, you become free to step beyond the worrisome drama and trauma of your story-teller.

When I become conscious of what cognitive loops my brain is running, I then focus on how these loops feel physiologically inside my body. Do I feel alert? Are my eyes dilated? Is my breath deep or shallow? Do I feel tightness in my chest? Do I feel lightness in my head? Is my stomach upset? Do I feel antsy or anxious? Are my legs jigg
lin
g? Neuronal loops (circuits) of fear, anxiety or anger, can be triggered by all sorts of different stimulation. But once triggered, these different emotions produce a predictable physiological response that you can train yourself to consciously observe.

When my brain runs loops that feel harshly judgmental, counter-productive, or out of control, I wait 90 seconds for the emotional/physiological response to dissipate and then I speak to my brain as though it is a group of children. I say with sincerity, "I appreciate your ability to think thoughts and feel emotions, but I am really not interested in thinking these thoughts or feeling these emotions anymore. Please stop bringing this stuff up."

Essentially, I am consciously asking my brain to stop hooking into specific thought patterns. Different people do it differently of course. Some folks just use the phrase, "Cancel! Cancel!" or they exclaim to their brain, "Busy! I'm too busy!" Or they say "Enough, enough, enough already! Knock it off!"

Simply thinking these thoughts with my inner authentic voice, however, is often not enough for me to get the message across to my story-teller, who is invested in performing its normal function. I have found that when I attach an appropriate feeling to these phrases, and think them with genuine affect, my story-teller is more amenable to this type of communication. If I'm really having trouble getting my brain to listen, I add a kinesthetic component to my message like waggling my pointed finger in the air, or standing firm with my hands on my hips. A scolding mother is more effective when she says what she means with passion and communicates her message multidimensionally.

I whole-heartedly believe that 99.999 percent of the cells in my brain and body want me to be happy, healthy, and successful. A tiny portion of the story-teller, however, does not seem to be unconditionally attached to my joy, and is excellent at exploring thought patterns that have the potential to really derail my feeling of inner peace. This group of cells has been called many things; some of my favorites include the Peanut Gallery, the Board of Directors, and the Itty Bitty S#*?!y Committee. These are the cells in our verbal mind that are totally resourceful in their ability to run our loops of doom and gloom. These cells tap into our negative attributes of jealousy, fear, and rage. They thrive when they are whining, complaining, and sharing with everyone about how awful everything is.

In extreme situations of cellular disregard, I use my authentic voice to put my language center's Peanut Gallery on a strict time schedule. I give my story-teller full permission to whine rampantly between 9-9:30am and then again between 9-9:30pm. If it accidentally misses
whine time,
it is not allowed to reengage in that behavior until its next allotted appointment. My cells quickly get the message that I am serious about not hooking into those negative loops of thought - but only if I am persistent and determined enough to pay attention to what circuits are running in my brain.

I'm a devout believer that paying attention to our selftalk is vitally important for our mental health. In my opinion, making the decision that internal verbal abuse is not acceptable behavior, is the first step toward finding deep inner peace. It has been extremely empowering for me to realize that the negative story-teller portion of my brain is only about the size of a peanut! Just imagine how sweet life was when those cranky cells were silent. Recovering my left mind has meant that I have had to give voice to all of my cells again. However, I have learned that in order to protect my overall mental health, it is necessary for me to tend the garden of my mind and keep these cells in check. I have found that my story-teller simply needs a little disciplining directive from my conscious mind about what I want versus what I find unacceptable. Thanks to our open line of communication, my authentic self has much more say over what is going on with this particular group of cells; and I spend very little time hooked into unwanted or inappropriate thought patterns.

Having said that, however, I am often humored by the scheming antics of my story-teller in response to this type of directive. I have found that just like little children, these cells may challenge the authority of my authentic voice and test my conviction. Once asked to be silent, they tend to pause for a moment and then immediately reengage those forbidden loops. If I am not persistent with my desire to think about other things, and consciously initiate new circuits of thought, then those uninvited loops can generate new strength and begin monopolizing my mind again. To counter their activities, I keep a handy list of three things available for me to turn my consciousness toward when I am in a state of need: 1) I remember something I find fascinating that I would like to ponder more deeply, 2) I think about something that brings me terrific joy, or 3) I think about something I would like to do. When I am desperate to change my mind, I use such tools.