Dipping my toe back in: Neuroscience and Free WIll, or Does science prove Calvin was right?

Why did you decide what to eat – or not eat – for breakfast this morning?  Or, to make the stakes a wee bit higher, why does someone decide to kill another person?

Yes, it’s been a year since I’ve written or posted on fb.  That’s for another day.  Can we just say, “My brain made me do it?”

Because that’s the answer, and a very hot topic these days:  How culpable are we for our deeds and misdeeds, if our brains made us do it?  Implying that our brains are somehow separate from our selves, but in control of our selves.  Are we are just puppets, because our unconscious brain is in charge?  How accountable do we hold someone accused of a crime, if neglect and abuse shaped the earliest years of their brain?

If we’re born with a genetic pre-disposition to alcoholism, and we grew up in a home with alcoholic parents – Is it fair?  No.  Is it right?  No.  Does it explain how hard it is to resist certain patterns of thought and behavior?  Yes.  Does it then excuse our own addictive behavior and let us off the hook?  No. The brains of every one of us arrived pre-wired, then grew, with certain tendencies and characteristics.  There are folk whose brains don’t function well enough to hold them accountable.  But if you can read this, that isn’t you.

From one perspective it seems brain science proves Calvin right:  All is pre-determined.  But science also supports free will.  With your prefrontal cortex, how will you live with the brain you’ve got?  The self, the soul, the heart of who we are can rise above the influence of our reptilian impulses.  We have self-agency, and a responsibility to care for our brain just like we’re to care for our body, our children, our world.  No excuses for neglecting your center of compassion.

But what do you think?  How much of who you are and how you live is determined by your brain’s unconscious patterns and drives, and how much can you be held responsible?  I’m curious how you answer the question …

amy

Jesus’ Anne Lamot Moment and Parenting Teenagers

Like every single parent out there, I have great kids.  I do!  Just ask anyone.  The thing is, they are teenagers.  And because lots of people who read this blog also know my kids, I will protect their privacy and just say that our house is not immune to the travails and trials that parents of teenagers go through.  Notice I said the parents, not the trials and travails that teens go through.  Recent research suggests that this time of life isn’t hard, or stressful, or full of the sturm und drang I learned about in Psych 101.  At least not for the teens.  It’s the parents who struggle.  I don’t know for sure how my parents who had  3 teenage girls at the same time did it.  But wow, do I have compassion for all those families whose struggles are of the more extreme teenage type.  Because it’s hard enough with the normal stuff.

This week’s scripture is from Matthew 10:42, where Jesus says that even giving a cup of cold water to someone in need is ministry.  I love this. How Anne Lamot of him!  She is always talking about giving people cups of cold water.  To be perfectly honest, living a faithful life can feel so, well, hard.  Let alone being a faithful parent, whatever that might be.  But a cup of cold water?  Whew.  That I can do.  

And Dr. Barbara Fredrickson’s research at UNC backs up Jesus’ command about cups of cold water.  She says that every small act of kindness and connection we make with another human being changes our physiology – not just our brain – to make us more resilient.  Kindness, even the teensy tiny kind, can strengthen our immune system, lower our blood pressure, calm our heart rate, and forge new neural pathways to make us more compassionate.  How great is that!

And so today’s kindness is challenge is this:  Because the parents of teenagers are living with those same teenagers, sometimes we don’t see our kids the way the rest of the world does.   Actually, this is true for all parents.  We miss the forest in the midst of the daily struggles to get those trees to grow more or less straight.  And we forget, or don’t see, or don’t know, how great our kids are.   If you have the opportunity today to let a parent know something good or amazing or just nice that their kid did, let them know.  That’s like a cup of cold water when we’re trudging through the desert wilderness of parenting.  And also, let your parents know you are grateful they let you survive until you grew up, because it was hard on them.  That too, is a cup of cold water, even if it’s overdue.  

So thanks, Judy and Bob, for not sending all of us to a convent, or shipping us out to the wilderness, or leaving us on an desert island ’til we were “cooked,” as someone in my church calls it.  I had no idea how tempted you must have been.  And congrats.  You did well.  And I know it’s too little but hopefully not too late:  I apologize for how much my teenage self took for granted!  Now I know.  

My Marching Band Career

I played clarinet in marching band from 7th grade through my first year of college, when I marched with the Penn State Blue Band.

However, that sentence does not accurately reflect my ineptitude at keeping the beat, marching in step, the ol’ “8 to 5” mantra of 8 steps per every five yards on the football field did not keep me from shuffling.  Sure, you CAN do 8 similarly sized steps, left foot-right foot, just like all those around you.  OR you can take 2 little steps, one giant step to keep up, them shuffle your feet to get back to the left foot-right foot of everyone around you.  I was not an asset on the field.  In fact, one star achievement, the highlight of my marching band career, was when I was chosen to march (ahem, shuffle) off the field in the opposite direction of the rest of the Blue Band because they only needed x + 1 marchers for the first half of the show, and x marchers for the second half.   Exit, stage right.  Or was that left?

Let’s just say, no sense of rhythm makes for a very bad marching band member.  And let’s just say I practiced and practiced and PRACTICED marching around my room playing “Georgia on My Mind” trying to get it right.  I succeeded in driving my parents crazy and wearing a miniature pattern in the carpet of my moves for George Washington High’s marching band half time show.  (Yea, me and the famous Jennifer Garner, marched in the same high school band.   Here’s proof: 

Now, more than a quarter of a century later, NPR posts a report about just why some of us can’t keep the beat.  It’s because I have a brain disorder!

” Jessica Phillips-Silver … has a Ph.D. in neuroscience and auditory development, and she says there is such a thing as beat deafness: ‘a form of musical brain disorder’.  Something as apparently simple as tapping your foot to your favorite song is, in fact, a pretty complex process.”

“One thing that we know about rhythm in the brain is that it’s managed by a kind of widespread network — which means we can’t just point our finger to one spot on the brain and say, ‘That’s the rhythm center’ or ‘That’s the dance center,’ ” she says. “It really recruits sort of a variety of areas and pulls them together in ways that are beautiful and sophisticated, but we don’t quite understand yet.”

 (http://www.npr.org/2014/06/24/323710682/think-before-you-clap-you-could-be-beat-deaf?utm_source=facebook.com&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=npr&utm_term=nprnews&utm_content=20140624)

After 8 years of piano lessons, 6 years of marching band, 4 years of private clarinet lessons, 4 years of handbell choir and 4 of church choir, I’m better.  And I could have told the researchers there’s a genetic link.  Don’t ask my dad to dance, and don’t ask either of us to sing.  All those music lessons did teach me how to match pitch, at least.  And I can sort of tell when the piano is out of tune.  (It starts to sound honky-tonk.)  But we should have known there was something not quite right about us!   So be kind to your tone deaf – rhythm oblivious brothers and sisters.  It’s all in their heads.

Neuroscience and Christian Scripture

Let’s apply neuroscience to scripture!  Yay!  I love cross-disciplinary discussions.  

I’m guessing that most people just clicked away after the first sentence.  But for the 3 of you left:

You know that Scripture is a dicey topic.  My published researcher PhD sister Rebecca reminds me the science community thinks all Christians are probably Rick Santorum.   This is not a compliment, but rather evidence for why we (people of the Christian faith) must be nutty.  

Do folk of other religious traditions get the same bad rap?  Somehow, I suspect not.  Because you don’t see many – any? in the Jewish faith claiming “intelligent design” is a viable scientific theory deserving of public school resources.  And that’s just one example.  Maybe because their flock is more intelligent?  (To my friend Rabbi Jill:  What say you?  See her work at http://www.ravjill.com/the-jewish-mindfulness-network/)

On the other hand, many, if not most, Christians dismiss science as irrelevant to faith.  In spite of how neuroscience supports the power of prayer, or how quantum mechanics supports a theological perspective on creation, or any of the other amazing intersections of faith and science.  

And few Christians of whatever brand can agree to what our shared text means.  That, at least, is universal: Whatever sacred text we read, we all miss the point a lot of the time.  We just differ in the humility of our claims. But that sure doesn’t stop us from getting into lots of fights about it, and people can’t run away fast enough, assuming there’s nothing of value in the Christian Bible.

But, well, my number one job responsibility is to figure out what to say on Sunday mornings, using one of the four scheduled scripture texts of the common lectionary.

Preaching:  I love it; It’s a burden; I hate it; I’m astounded by it; I dread it:

Be inspiring! Don’t be boring!  Be practical!  Make God/divine love come alive for us!  Make us FEEL the Spirit!

It’s quite a job description.

So, I thought, why not see what new angle my (admittedly limited & simplistic) study of neuroscience might reveal in the text?  Maybe other folk would be interested as well!  Even though the science community isn’t thrilled to talk with a “person of the cloth,” neither is the institutional church all that excited by the implications of scientific research on the practice of faith.  O well. To me, it’s a fun exercise.  So my goal is to offer a “neurological” perspective on one of the lectionary passages on the weeks I am preparing a sermon.  Which is most weeks.  

Maybe it will help some preachers.  Maybe some who find the Christian Bible “yucky” will be pleasantly surprised.  

Let me know what you think!  

 

Name it to tame it: Upstairs-Downstairs and Left-Right

What exactly is going on when we throw a hissy fit?  What can we do about it?  And what can we do to help our kids handle their own tantrums?

If you’re the parent of a small child, you’ve been there.  We were at the mall, my kids were three and one, and for whatever mysterious reasons, the three year old had a conniption fit.  In public.  Not even in a store, but in the open-air walkway.  I was sleep-deprived the way only a working parent of toddlers trying to write a dissertation can be.  I gave up; we all collapsed in the walkway, and I let him cry it out.

If you’ve ever lost your temper at work, or yelled at your kids or spouse, you’ve been there, too.

We all lose it at one time or another.  We all have borne the brunt of someone else’s temper.  What is going on?

This video :

http://www.kidsinthehouse.com/video/how-storytelling-connects-both-sides-brain

is for my West Coast friend Rabbi Jill Zimmerman, who runs the Jewish mindfulness network (see http://www.ravjill.com/the-jewish-mindfulness-network/)

since she asked me ages ago how naming our emotions helps calm us down. (I apologize for the ad at the beginning.)

Here, Daniel Siegel explains how a parent can respond to a child who trips and skins her knee.

The right side of the brain is the “experiencing” side, where all our emotions and physical sensations are registered. It is the left side that uses linear, logical, and language thought to make sense of the world.

Okay, yes, this is simplistic, but it helps to conceptualize what is happening.

When we are overwhelmed by what the right side is experiencing – The emotions, the pain – then the right side is in charge. Another way of thinking about it is upstairs versus downstairs, with the downstairs representing the amygdala, which sparks the fight-flight-freeze- faint response.  The upstairs is the executive of the whole operation, the prefrontal cortex.

So, if the right-experiencing side and the downstairs-amygdala of the brain are in charge, well, it can get ugly fast. That’s when tantrums and yelling and outbursts take over, and we feel out of control. Because our emotions are in control.

But, upstairs, the prefrontal cortex provides emotional regulation, and puts the brakes on the impulsivity of the amygdala, keeping us from flipping our lid.  Bring the left hemisphere of the brain on board, to use language to make sense of what is happening, and you can now integrate the experience using all the tools available in the brain.

The linear-language-logical left brain and the executive prefrontal cortex can calm the raging alligator downstairs and soothe the pain felt in the right.

No we can use our minds to decide the best way to respond. All assuming, of course, that our lives are not literally being threatened. If your life is threatened, by all means, let the brain do what it’s designed to do: Fight-flee-freeze-faint.

So, as Daniel Siegel says, you “Name it to tame it.”  Which means paying attention to what you are feeling – physically and emotionally. Help your child name what is happening – that is, what they are experiencing.  The sooner you are aware of what is going on inside you, the sooner the alligator can be soothed.  This takes practice – and it’s best to practice when all is calm.  Right now, this second, how do you feel inside your skin?  Name it.  Make a habit of checking in.  Then you’ll have the skills to use the tools already in your brain.  Name it to tame it.

 

Good? or bad………

Quick, without thinking, off the top of your head:

Are people born generally good?

Or bad?

Chances are you find yourself on one side of that question or the other.  It’s one I ponder often.

In support of the “Good:”

Anne Frank says, “In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart.”  Do you agree?  Genesis says that we are created in the image of God.  What do you think?

Or, supporting the “Bad”

You’ve got good ol’ John Calvin, of Total Depravity theology:  “For our nature is not merely bereft of good, but is so productive of every kind of evil that it cannot be inactive.”   Or Martin Luther:  “But what, then, is original sin? … it is his inclination to all that is evil……”

And a “prophet” of our own time, Stephen King:  “The true nature of man left to himself without restraint is not nobility but savagery.”

But here’s a related, and important, question:

Do you think you can tell the difference?  Can you tell a “good” person from a “bad” person?  (Please excuse the over-simplification here.  I don’t think we can throw away the key on anyone, no matter what, and even the very best person has dark sides. But…..)

I used to think I had pretty good instincts, pretty decent radar for such things, having had, in my life, several lengthy run-ins with folk who were, to oversimplify, “morally bad.”  Not to be too blunt, but do you think you could recognize a psychopath?

On one hand, I think most of us think we could.  I was listening to Ira Glass’ podcast of “This American Life.”  Here’s a link to the introduction, where Ira talks with “Cheryl” about her young son’s violent and anti-social behaviors (He’s tried to kill his siblings.  He’s 8.)  http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/521/bad-baby?act=0#play

It will leave you chilled.  Once again, what I want to believe about people – and kids – is challenged.  We know so much about brain function and anatomy, and that we all differ in our empathic abilities, and that kids “on the spectrum” (of autism and aspergers’) have fewer connections from the region of the brain that detects, interprets, responds empathically to another’s emotional state.  But we also know about the brain’s plasticity, the ability to learn, to make and forge new connections, with the right environment.  On the other hand, obviously there are limitations to that as well.  Someone tested with a 70 IQ is not going to cure cancer, no matter how enriching and stimulating their childhood world.  But our brains tell us “Of course, we can tell the difference between someone who is “bad” – that is, evil, immoral, with psychopathic tendencies!”

But what about James Fallon, author of “The Psychopath Inside: A neuroscientist’s personal journey into the dark side of the brain.”  He says that if you have any indication that someone is a psychopath, don’t engage them, don’t try to love them, don’t try to change them.  GET AWAY FROM THEM as fast as possible.  And he considers himself one. http://www.ted.com/talks/jim_fallon_exploring_the_mind_of_a_killer 

Okaaaaaaaaaay.  But, a psychopath WOULD say that, wouldn’t they?  But rats:  Are people basically good?  Or basically bad, and have to be taught how to be good?  And do we just run from people who give us the willies?  But the literature says true psychopaths don’t GIVE us the willies.

I don’t have any answers, other than I’ve learned to be humble about my brain – and my gut – reaction.  After all, I had a psychopath to Thanksgiving Dinner, and no one knew it until it was definitively proven to us.  Did we miss the signs?  Or were there no signs to miss?  All I know is that once again, I have personal evidence that our brains let us down all the time.  It’s good to remember.

Are you my mother? Desperate to find community

Not that I’m complaining, but I didn’t know accepting $15,000 from the Louisville Institute to investigate the intersection of neuroscience and spirituality meant that 13 months later I’d be at a Winter Seminar.  With other grant recipients.   3/4 of whom are PhD candidates or post-docs.  Which leaves pastors in the minority.   And we all had to write progress reports and “elevator pitches,” 3/4 of which were practically unintelligible to me.  #humility

I was already feeling very insecure before I walked into this gathering, and unsure my brain was up to the task.  In case you don’t know, the past 14 months (ever since I was awarded the grant) have been a little stressful.  As I went running the second morning, getting ready for my own “elevator pitch” and feedback on my project, I realized my anxiety had burst forth in a strange way.

I kept looking for “my people.”  I would hear someone say they were a singer-song-writer from Nashville, and I would rush up and say, “O, I have family in Nashville!  Do you know Rad Foster?”  “Umm, no,” would be the response, and my heart would sigh.

Another person reported on the racial aesthetic in the literature from 1910-1960.  I knew better than to even try.  

But the young Korean studying the relationship between the American Missionary Christianity and Korean theology and culture? “My father-in-law is from North Korea!  And he’s a pastor!”  We could be each other’s “people,”  except you are brilliant, and me, not feeling so much.

The man who reported on sustainability and food as a theological issue for the church, and I’d think, “O!  You are my people!” only to discover his theology was, well, let’s just say he talked a LOT about the “Fall of Man.”  Not so much my people.

“You are exploring trauma and the brain and theology?  YOU must be my people!”  Maybe?  But then you talk about Augustine and sacrificial theology and suffering and atonement, and I have my doubts.  

What was going on here?  Why all the fishing for “my people?”  O, RIGHT!  Because we are born to need one another.  Our brains, even filled with all sorts of obscure knowledge about early church theologies or the rise of Kingdom of God language in the 1830’s, are still wired for connection, wired to find and make kin. 

So, I’m feeling out of my element, and insecure, and anxious because my project is so different, and my talk is a story, not a lecture.  No wonder my brain is running a constant analysis of each person who crosses my path – I feel vulnerable, and that makes me want allies – You know, in case a war breaks out between Christian History Academicians.  As if.  

So, I gently laugh at my antics, and pray I haven’t been too much of a pest, like the little sister who keeps wanting to hang out with the cool football players on her older brother’s team, and give thanks that “my people” are in the world – And I’m going home to them soon.  And in the meantime, wow, there are a lot of cool ideas in this room, and a fantastic opportunity to practice the craft of writing.  If I can just keep my mouth shut, maybe no one wonder what I’m doing here!  #laughatself

Neuroplasticity: God’s greatest gift?

We Christians are big believers in change – Well, not all Christians.  Probably not the Rick Santorum-type.  But that’s not Jesus’ fault, that he, and those like him, totally miss the point of this faith that emphasizes transformation, and forgiveness, and repentance and conversion –  What are these, if not words about minds being changed?   In fact, what is education, if not something that changes your mind?  And we Presbyterians are big on education (Princeton, anyone?)

And once again, neuroscience supports what people of faith have known all along:  Our brains – Our minds – can be changed, no matter how old we are.  Otherwise, why practice any faith at all, if not for the hope of being changed?   That old adage “You can’t teach a dog new tricks” describes our reluctance to change, not our ability.  When you change your mind, it literally, physically, neurologically, chemically, hormonally, anatomically – changes.

It’s called “neuroplasticity,” although I prefer the term, “neuro-genesis.” (It’s even got Judeo-Christian scripture built in – genesis.)  And it means that we can see the anatomical changes in our brains, whether from experiences, or from deliberate practice on our part.  And when those same scientists talk about the ways we can change our brains, they often are describing spiritual disciplines with deep roots in many faith traditions.

Religion and science love to debate who has the better handle on the truth.  Some religious leaders scoff at any anatomical or biological evidence that may account for our actions; some researchers belittle anyone who claims to believe in God or practice a faith.  And yet, what better evidence of how science and religion come together to describe the same phenomena:  Research “proves” what our faith has “asserted”:  These amazing brains of ours are designed to changed, and the power to do so is in our hands.   I wish more researchers tapped into the spiritual practices of average congregations; I wish more congregations fine-tuned their practices in light of the research.

How to get through a rough first anniversary holiday season

If my husband Paul had his druthers, we would skip Christmas.  Which really isn’t an option, since we have teenagers and a 5 year old niece in the house.  But  I get where he is coming from.  We are in the midst of first year anniversaries of the most bizarre 3 months in our lives, events that are “Lifetime Movie of the Week” weird enough to suck the Advent/Christmas joy out of anyone.

This stretch between Thanksgiving and New Year’s can be tough for lots of reasons.  We know that.  But this first year in our house, I’m wondering how do you mark the anniversary of a homicide and suicide in the family?

 Last Thanksgiving was the last time we were all together, with Paul’s aunt Carolyn and cousin John at our table.  So that’s the beginning of the end of the firsts.  Then the second week in December was the last time she was with her siblings, including Paul’s mother.  Do we mark the day Carolyn was shot in late December?  Or three days later, when we found out she was shot?  Or the week we flew to Florida for her funeral and were interviewed by detectives?  Or the day we discovered yes, John had owned a gun?  Or the out-of-body experience of telling our kids what to do if John came to the door – that is, run upstairs and call the police but do NOT LET HIM IN.  Or the day John shot himself in mid-January?  Or the day we found out John shot himself?  Or the first day we cleaned out his apartment, or the last day?  Or the day just last week when the last of his furniture made it out of our garage?  Whew.  No wonder Paul doesn’t want to celebrate Christmas.

But here’s the challenge:  Skipping Advent and Christmas and decorating and gift giving- it’s not an option, not this year.  And so here is what I am doing to help us do more than just grit our teeth and get through this time.  I don’t want John to take this, too.  Maybe some of these will help you, should you find yourself with someone who is dragging through these days.

1. I’ve tried to get him talking.  It had not occurred to him he was feeling this way for a very legitimate and real reason, called “grief.”  I know, it’s so obvious to any outsider.  But it wasn’t to him, in the middle of it.  To him, “grief” didn’t seem to fit this situation, but it’s the best word we’ve got, and this is what it feels like and looks like.  Just naming it keeps it from poisoning all of us like an invisible toxic cloud.  Pointing it out weakens it’s power. Neuroscience tells us naming an emotion moves energy into the prefrontal cortex where thinking happens, reducing the energy left for namelessly feeling bad.  It helps us feel better just to have a reason why we’re feeling so bad.

2. I’ve tried to schedule time with friends who make us laugh.  Emotions are contagious.  It’s been said many times, many ways, but we’re wired to connect, and part of connecting means our faces mimic the expressions around us, which then bring on the feelings mirrored by those expressions.  Whole sections of our brains are devoted to figuring out what other people are feeling, which then makes us vulnerable to those feelings.  So, I’m trying to schedule time for myself and my family with the happiest, silliest, people I know.  I don’t mean “polly-anna-types.”  I mean genuinely make you laugh every time you are with them folk. Even if we fake it, smiling makes us feel better.  At the very least, it will improve my mood, which will then make me less vulnerable to the toxic cloud.

3. Even if it’s just going through the motions, we’re doing the traditional.  Our brains are also wired like Pavlov’s dogs – Okay, more complicated than that, but still – We too can be trained to salivate when a bell is rung before a treat is awarded.  So, picking up a Christmas ornament and putting it on a tree – Those motions of hand and arm and feet – Along with the smell and sight of a tree, the feeling of the ornament – Even the annual cursing of the tangled lights – It is all connected with all those memories of years we’ve done this before – Years that weren’t so hard.  Years that maybe, were good.  And a glimmer of that will rise to the surface.

4. We’re listening to music, and we’re going to church and singing hymns and we’re lighting candles.  Yes, because of #3, but also music by-passes our logical, rational linear cognitions,  Singing forces us to breath deeply and rhythmically, calming our nervous system. Lighting candles, yes, see #3 again, but also, it reminds us there is light even in the darkest of times; even when it doesn’t feel like that light can pierce our sadness, part of our brain does register this act of faith.  Our eyes are made to seek out light.

And 5:  I’m keeping expectations low, and I’m not trying to talk anyone out of how they are feeling.  It would be hard to top the drama of last year, which means as my sister says, it’s hard to imagine a stranger year of first anniversaries.  We will probably have hard Christmases in the future, but odds are they will be of the normal grief and sadness of missing loved ones.  Not the endless looping of “What did we miss?  How did this happen?  Why did this happen?  How can I make sense of this?”  One thing about terminal cancer, it’s hard, but it’s straightforward, and most everyone gets it.

This is not to say we should ignore, belittle, or minimize the grief that may knock on the door.  There will be tears.  That’s okay.  That’s real.  But we can still connect, and still love each other through the hard stuff, and maybe even see a tiny glimmer of hope, joy, love, peace.  So, blessings on everyone who is walking with someone struggling this season – That is it’s own special hard.  But maybe some of these tips will make us all a little less vulnerable to the crazy thoughts and feelings that show up, and a little more open to good surprises of the season.  

Are you deluded about your self?

My daughter took this picture of me and my husband with her i-phone 4, which she will tell you does not have a great camera, but look at what it captured:  This stream of light between us. Now, we do not have one of those “lovey-dovey” cloud nine relationships – Just ask my friend Kelly, who gets an earful of the day to day complaints that can be a part of marriage.  Okay, maybe just my marriage.  But this isn’t a picture of marriage.  It’s a picture of what Dan Siegel calls our “Interpersonal Neurobiology.”  Which just means there is no such thing as a “self.”  In fact, Daniel Siegel Professor of Psychiatry at UCLA School of Medicine, goes so far to say that the idea we have a “self” is a delusion – Like, in the mental illness sense of “delusion.”  And it is this delusion that accounts for most – if not all – the world’s problems, including climate change, hunger, poverty, and war.

Our brains, which means really, we, exist as they do only because of our connections with others.  It is those connections that shaped our brains as we grew up, and shape our brains each day of our lives.  From the very first breath we take, our brains are specifically wired to pay attention to, then mimic, then respond to the eyes, faces, and facial expressions of those around us.  Very quickly, infants learn they can get others to interact with them as they make eye contact and change their facial expressions.  Who hasn’t smiled at a baby in Target, and been thrilled to see them smile back?

Twenty-five years ago I left the PhD Clinical Psychology path for a call to ministry, because I was told there was no way to study what I knew deep in my being was real, but at that time, invisible and unmeasurable (and therefore, not real) according to the scientific field of psychology. Now, neuroscientific research is catching up to what we who are committed to a religious, or spiritual life, already know:  We are all one.  We can’t understand an individual neuron.  We can’t understand what’s going on with an individual cell.  We can’t understand our “selves” because they do not exist apart from our connections with others.  This is how our brains were and are wired:  To respond to one another.

So, that smile you give the person in the check-out line?  Even though you are tired and crabby yourself?  Not only does it change your brain chemicals to make you feel better, it literally lights up their brain, and makes them feel better too.  You are reshaping their brain, and yours, and in the process, reshaping reality.  Think all those small acts of kindness don’t make a difference?  Think again. Each time we remember and practice we are all one, we wake up from the delusion of individuality that threatens our survival.

The science proves it.  And all major world religions teach it.

A quote from world religions:  “We are interdependent. Each of us depends on the well-being of the whole, and so we have respect for the community of living beings.”  –from Towards a Global Ethic – An Initial Declaration, signed by 300 representatives of the world’s religions at the 1993 Parliament of the World’s Religions in Chicago

A quote from Naturalist, John Muir, 1911: “When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.”

A quote from Louis Cozolino:  “Our brains rely on other brains to remain healthy, especially under stress.”

For an easy read on the science, check out the book “Born for Love: Why empathy is essential and endangered, by Perry & Szalavitz:  http://www.amazon.com/Born-Love-Empathy-Essential—Endangered/dp/0061656798/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1384355149&sr=8-1&keywords=born+for+love

For more in-depth study, try “The Neuroscience of Human Relationships,”  by Cozolino:  http://www.amazon.com/The-Neuroscience-Human-Relationships-Interpersonal/dp/0393704548/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1384355288&sr=8-1&keywords=neuroscience+of+human+relationships

For a life-time of study, the Norton Series on Interpersonal Neurobiology, edited by Dan Siegel, will keep you busy. http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_0_13?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=norton%20series%20on%20interpersonal%20neurobiology&sprefix=Norton+Series%2Caps%2C129&rh=i%3Aaps%2Ck%3Anorton%20series%20on%20interpersonal%20neurobiology