Trusting Stillness

Life is a string of moments. And every moment contains within it its own death, in an unbroken chain of arisings and disappearances. Wise individuals have called this the play of consciousness.  Human beings are expressions of this consciousness and entangled in its dance. Life cannot happen without death, as endings are the inevitable consequence of beginnings. And yet, beneath these arisings and disappearances lies what many seers have perceived as the unchanging, unconditioned, and eternal stillness. This is the realm in which most of us would place our God, Source, or Creator.

As we follow the turbulence of this moment, the increasing protests amid a deadly coronavirus pandemic, the play of consciousness is in full display. We perceive the same recurring dance; the same passion and frustration expressed before; the same sentiments of hopelessness which have occurred previously. And it disheartens us that the cycle seems interminable. If the expectation is a spontaneous resolution of this cycle, this is unlikely to happen as long as we remain trapped in the dance itself. The sole permanent and effective solution is to step outside of it and place ourselves in the hands of the grace encompassing the dance itself-the eternal stillness.

Mystics are not the only ones capable of relating to this unfamiliar and metaphysical experience. Receiving this grace is our birthright. It’s a matter of how sincere and willing we are to receive it. We call it a miracle when an individual hits bottom, be it a drug addict, alcoholic, or any other lost soul. At that moment, they encounter no more excuses for their behavior and accept as the solution the stillness that was always accessible. Touching stillness involves admitting that something greater than ourselves has control, and turning our life and trust over to it. Hitting bottom to recognize this truth is only necessary if we are stubborn. Indeed, we can accept it now, in this moment.

How do we achieve this?  There is one indispensable thing. It is to recognize how we construct what we are, the personality we take ourselves to be, the ego, the self-centered reasoning. And to know that it is this incessant activity creating our problems. Let go of self-centered thinking, ego-self, that “little you,” and realize you are in fact already part and parcel of the eternal stillness. Let go of the conceptual mind animating and giving birth to the endless arisings and disappearances of self-centered thought and allow truth to shine through. Life is a choice and we are at an inflection point where we must choose, go beyond ego, and trust the stillness we are.

I Am Here

“I don’t know” is a phrase that has become more and more common and relevant as I try to burrow down into the nature of my psyche, trying to plumb the depths of my being.  Like most individuals, I questioned my identity during my early development: Who am I, if not my opinions? Where did this existence, which appears more substantial, come from? What is the authentic me? I don’t understand why such questioning became so important to me. But my natural predisposition to know led me to a career in science. Specifically, to the study of the brain and mind, which augmented the questions I had. For the last twenty years it has been my continuing effort to understand who I am, really.

Following retirement 18 months ago from an academic position, I wanted to test the notion that my life could be turned over to that greater presence I felt all around. What that meant for me was reducing conceptual thinking, the intellectual millstone of an academic. It meant relaxing into my physical being, as opposed to living in my head. It meant, most of all, letting go of the small and large expectations of what life ought to be. It meant trusting and accepting that my life was less under my control than I realized.

I imagined a process of letting go of my expectations, my wants and ego-based thoughts. And a type of merging with a greater unity-to the point of losing the sense of me. Unfortunately, letting go has been difficult and incomplete. My mind, either unwilling or unable to, creates and recreates me, as if it cannot do otherwise. The thought-generator aspect of my mind can only be still and absolutely quiet for but a few seconds at a time. Nonetheless, it is that stillness experience that keeps me going. For in those moments, I sense something, a presence, a different life, an intelligence. It’s a presence that neither beckons nor rejects. It simply says, “I am here.” But to make the jump into that unknown seems to require letting go of the life I have known. It’s a challenging thing to do.

I have made strides in that direction. But everywhere I look for answers to this more real nature, whether it is the sycamore tree outside the living room window in its fullness of spring, the myriad objects in the condo that I share with my wife, or the feelings that bubble up on the meaning of my life, I am confronted by the one response. “I don’t know”. It is a wall of silence and darkness that seems impenetrable. Despite the persistence of this darkness, I have become more and more comfortable with this not-knowingness. There has been a settling of my anticipation, eagerness, future-oriented desires. I feel a different calmness.

While this has been happening, I have noticed a reduction in the distance between the sensorial phenomena reaching my brain and who I feel I am. Whereas sensory experience was distinct, separate, and somewhat superficial before, it has gained a sense of solidity, of closeness, of vibrancy, of relevancy that it did not have before. The imaginary presence I spoke about earlier is steadily transforming into the sensory experience of this moment. This experience is what now whispers, “I am here.”

In Defense of Science: A Middle Way

Science is under increasing assault by President Trump and his administration. In his most recent decisions to take the malaria drug hydroxychloroquine as a prophylactic for covid-19 and not to wear a mask in enclosed spaces, the President is refuting his own CDC recommendations. This is a pattern of anti-science, anti-medicine, and anti-intellectualism that has characterized this administration from the start. It is a reckless and dangerous stance, and something every scientist and health provider should oppose.


I trained as a scientist. And got a first-hand appreciation for the potential of this discipline to cut through the thicket of opinions, assumptions, hopes, and magical thinking to bring us closer to the truth.  I am convinced that science and the scientific method are humanity’s most sophisticated and impactful responses to the world of uncertainty in which we live. Science serves as an efficient way to resolve many of the questions our minds generate.

It works by verifying informed guesses against evidence and using the results as feedback to improve the guesswork. This scientific method involves systematic observation, experimentation, inductive and deductive reasoning, hypothesis testing, theory construction, reductionist and integrative approaches. These are all intellectual achievements of the highest order. They are the jewels of the human intellect, the right and indispensable tools to penetrate the thicket of the unknown.

Using such means, scientists have cured devastating diseases. Their investigations have increased human longevity. They have advanced farming to feed a growing race. And they have raised the standard of living for practically everyone in the planet. These are a few of the many triumphs brought about by science and its methodical approach. Such successes have provided it with an imprimatur of integrity and established an implied understanding that this is a trustworthy discipline.

If asked, most thoughtful people would agree that science, as a process for approaching truth, should be required teaching to our children. It is worth giving it the consideration it has earned. And it deserves defending as critical for the health and well-being of the world at large.

As a neuroscientist, I also realize there are diverse forms of obtaining knowledge, including faith-based methods, intuition, and other ways that complement the objective, scientific approach. Scientists must be modest enough to recognize the limits of the intellectual approach.  For one, science cannot deal with ultimate questions; It does not make moral or aesthetic judgments; It is not self-directed since it doesn’t tell us how to best use scientific knowledge; And it doesn’t draw inferences concerning paranormal explanations. When scientists dismiss these domains, and even worse belittle them, they place science at variance with other ways of acquiring knowledge.

Interestingly, our brains use these contrasting styles of thinking, of intelligence, and original ways of knowing. Linear and nonlinear, intellectual and intuitive approaches integrate seamlessly in our mind according to the needs and demands confronted. It’s a lesson that should instruct us when assessing whether to accept science over faith-based evidence or vice versa.  President Trump and his allies promote the use of faith-based, magical thinking, and intuition as the primary basis for decision making. They oppose science and intellectual thinking and by doing so create a conflict that isn’t real. The key is to know when, where and under what circumstances to apply such contrasting modes of thinking. That is the sign of a wiser mind.

The Mind’s “Thin Blue Line”

“The greatest discovery of any generation is that a human can alter his life by altering his attitude.”

William James

The thinnest of mental boundaries separates the darkest from the brightest thoughts. Our mind, it appears, can travel enormous moral distances in the blink of an eye within its imaginary space. From imagining murder or suicide to planning a wedding or feeding the baby. It’s a dizzying crisscrossing of thoughts that can occur nearly instantaneously without any impediment or remorse. Only when contemplating action or the outcome of these imaginary ideas do we encounter a moral universe. Within this thought-action universe where right and wrong exists, there is a metaphorical “thin blue line” separating order from disorder. It’s a mental safeguard that keeps us safe and sane in a dangerous and insane world.

One sign of sanity in crazy times is when the world becomes too wonderful to ignore. When the gauzy filter of bad, depressing, and sad news lifts and we see spread before us the bare awareness of what life really is. In those moments, life appears beautiful. What we need to realize is that life, through the filter of our mind, creates innumerable experiences we can tune into. But we have a choice of which experiences to attend.  We can, for example, overdose on CNN or FOX news. This creates a sense of doom and gloom given the constant barrage of current disasters taking place in the world or the political shenanigans of our leaders. Or we can change the sensory channel and walk outside to observe the variety of flowers, the blue radiant sky, and our smiling neighbors. We can indulge our appetite for porn to exhaustion, or pick up a Bible, the Tao Te Ching, and Bhagavad Gita and marvel at human wisdom. We can feel sorry for ourselves and fuel our anxiety and depression or reach out our hand to help those in greater need. These choices need not be black or white, there are shades. The amazing thing is that we have choices and each one produces a different mental experience.

Choice becomes harder to exercise when pleasure, pain, or other emotions overwhelm the rational self. We can even reach a point of no apparent alternative and no escape. In such a place, we feel closed off to other avenues and the only path seems to be to end our life. But even then, we have a choice. The choice is to let go of our sense of control and let something else, something greater than ourselves, take over. This is the ultimate choice, the thin blue line of the mind, and its greatest safeguard.

While the pressures of life can exacerbate our difficulties, the root of the problem is our anxious, fear-based, and uncontrollable mind, one centered on ego-based rumination.

When the mind dwells on problems through the viewpoint of past and future, it can get snagged in that mode. It then behaves as what the Buddha called the “monkey mind.” This mind causes confusion and helplessness when unmanaged. The solution, however, is not to get rid of it but to place its operation in the proper context. For the monkey mind is also the creative mind. Training and guiding the monkey mind back to a more natural and original state ignites creativity, allowing us to deal with the challenges of living in-the-moment. But this return to an original mind does not mean you gain something new, rather you lose something old. You lose the obsession with past and future. And when you lose this obsession, you experience flowing, problem-solving, present-moment creative living. And this realization, the crossing of this boundary, is the best indicator that whatever or whoever created us did so lovingly. For it wanted us to choose life over death. While many discover this thin blue line by accident or in desperation, it is always available, at any moment we choose.

An Unencumbered Original Mind

LdV was illegitimate, gay, left-handed, a bit of a heretic, and a misfit. Fortunately, he lived in Florence, Italy, which in the late 1400s was a very tolerant and wealthy city.  As a boy, he had no formal education but received instruction at home in reading, writing, Latin, geometry and mathematics, although spending most of his childhood outdoors. Because of his lack of formal schooling, many of his contemporaries overlooked or ignored his scientific contributions. From childhood everyone recognized his astounding powers of observation; his unusual talent for making connections between unique areas of interest; a skeptical mind with a readiness to challenge dogma and contemporary beliefs; and a preternal ability to imagine the future. Today, we know him as the epitome of the creative Renaissance man. We consider him a painter and artist, an engineer, architect, scientist, inventor, cartographer, anatomist, botanist and writer. His active imagination conceptualized the tank, the helicopter, the flying machine, the parachute, and the self-powered vehicle. He was a “man ahead of his time” and many of his visionary inventions became real only centuries later.

Walter Isaacson, author of “Leonardo da Vinci,” describes the following about his unique subject: “Leonardo spent many pages in his notebook dissecting the human face to figure out every muscle and nerve that touched the lips. On one of those pages you see a faint sketch at the top of the beginning of the smile of the Mona Lisa. Leonardo kept that painting from 1503, when he started it, to his deathbed in 1519, trying to get every aspect exactly right in layer after layer. During that period, he dissected the human eye on cadavers and was able to understand that the center of the retina sees detail, but the edges see shadows and shapes better. If you look directly at the Mona Lisa smile, the corners of the lips turn downward slightly, but shadows and light make it seem like it’s turning upwards. As you move your eyes across her face, the smile flickers on and off.”

Much of this reality is mixed with mythology. For in life, Leonardo da Vinci created an endless succession of untested contraptions, unpublished studies and unfinished artworks. His uncontested genius rests on several foundations. Foremost, everything interested him. Curiosity was his defining trait. As an engineer, he foresaw more than most about how the design of machines informed by the mathematical laws of physics are better than those relying on practice.  He was the first to design separate interchangeable components deployed in a variety of devices. And no-one drew machines with more attention to detail and reality. His insatiable curiosity about nature drove his efforts to devise flying machines. He didn’t seek to imitate flying birds, but to apply the principles of bird flight to endow man with the ability to fly on his own. His genius lay in his mastery of engineering principles, design, and natural law.

From iconic paintings, such as the “Mona Lisa” and “The Last Supper,” designs for flying machines, and ground-breaking studies on optics and perspective, Leonardo da Vinci fused science and art. He created works that have become part of our human story. He is the ultimate expression of an unencumbered, original mind.

Beyond Narcissistic Perfectionism

Many experts in human behavior have sought to interpret President Trump’s actions to understand his sometimes odd conduct. A recurring theme describing his personality is a prevalent narcissism. But a more authentic portrait is a blend of narcissism with a perfectionist attitude. The concept of narcissistic perfectionism is new. Researchers define a narcissistic perfectionist as someone who is grandiose, has an acute sense of entitlement and holds unrealistic expectations of those around them. Narcissistic perfectionists see themselves as special and as unique, and these individuals demand perfection of those around them in a very demanding way. This may or may not explain all of Trump’s actions. For one, a perfectionist demands perfection. What one encounters in Trump is someone who assumes perfection.

That is a specific feature of Trump’s personality that is intriguing. His self-assuredness that all he, and by extension his administration does, is invariably “perfect.” It’s conceivable that while having such a view, his internal compass may point in the opposite direction. The perception Trump projects, though, is that he is mistake-proof. He vigorously asserts that view, and in the face of incontrovertible evidence to the contrary does not back down but doubles down. Further, his conviction is so strong that it warps the weaker convictions of those around him to the point of imposing his alternative version of events on them.

As far as I know, no healthy human being believes all their actions are perfect. More so if, like Trump, one grows up in a Judeo-Christian tradition where man’s nature is assumed to be sinful.  By default, Judeo-Christians think they are imperfect creatures and need saving grace. Other traditions such as Buddhism which do not accept the notion of a sinful nature do posit that individual action can be “perfect.” Perfection in this perspective, however, is not the idealized perfection we imagine, but perfection in the sense that an action is the only outcome or path available at that moment. There is a term in computer science that makes this understandable for me. This is the concept of “constraint satisfaction.” Complex systems will try to satisfy all the constraints placed on them and reach optimal solutions as the only, and therefore perfect, course of action.

But Trump is a self-professed Christian and paradoxically, at least in his view, perfect. Others have granted him that iconic status, but as an impartial, reflecting person’s assessment, it is concerning. Trump is not the risen Christ. It is useful to put oneself in the shoes of someone who thinks this way to understand them. But, although others might do this, I cannot adopt such a delusional viewpoint.  No wonder then that Trump considers anything contrary to his views as “fake news.”  Fake news, fake beliefs, phony people all around him is the only way to sustain such a belief. But it would make a person suspicious, on edge, and incapable of empathy. Empathy meaning the ability to identify with others and say “I am you, and you are me.” A narcissistic perfectionist cannot conceive of that state. This makes it obvious why such a person trusts no one or anything and chooses to go at life alone, to do it themselves. It is, thus, a natural extension of Trump’s personality to exhort an America first attitude-to go at it alone, for the rest of the world matters little!

This set of behaviors and personality attracted many Americans when Trump first ran for President. His energetic expression of this attitude appeared as something that could repair and renew the broken political system. What we have observed in subsequent years is nothing shy of chaotic, distressing, isolating, and sad. It is not the path we foresaw; and instead of being revived, we feel depleted, and in a somewhat learned helplessness state. Faced with the covid-19 pandemic, those feelings are now heightened.

The answer to the problems created by a narcissistic perfectionist President is not another politician. The November election and Joe Biden as the Democratic alternative may reverse things for the better. But it will not undo the ennui and the dangerous beliefs that have descended and settled on the US population. The only answer to such troubles can only come from within ourselves. It starts by letting go of the political divisiveness, the personal animosities, the racial divisions, and the culture of blaming others for our problems. It is time to take responsibility and recognize ourselves in others. And realize that their actions affect ours, that their dreams are our dreams, and that only collectively can we renew the hope of a better life.

Devil, Playful Monkey, Creative Genius

That the brain is the origin of the mind is a concept permeating even the most secluded parts of the earth. In this second decade of the 21st century, most educated people agree that the origin of the mind, of who they are, and of their sense of self and personality is the brain, as opposed to any separate structure in the body. This level of scientific judgment is inconsistent with ancient Egyptian and Greek notions about the heart or liver being the house of reflection and soul.  Most individuals would likewise concede that human actions have a wide assortment of expression, from optimistic, gloomy, caring to envious. We identify mind with the devil, with the intermittent and restless behavior of the anxious monkey mind, and with the piercing insight of creative geniuses.

As a neuroscientist, I start with the assumption that the brain plays a sizable role in producing the mind. I likewise appreciate that our experiences change the intellect, by when and where we have such encounters, and with whom we share them. The brain as the origin of the mind does not mean there is unanimity in seeing mind as more than the brain. In cognitive science there is the beginning of an appreciation of this asymmetry. We see the mind as extending into and comprising the interactions we have with objects and people around us. This extended mind, or what we call distributed cognition, is an acknowledgement of mind being more than the individual brain. Carl Jung (1875-1961), a Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, was the founder of the Analytical Psychology movement. He conceived of the intellect, and the unconscious, as products of both personal and collective experiences (what he called the “collective unconscious”).  He conceptualized the collective unconscious as the aggregation of human knowledge accessible to us because of our ancestral experience and something passed on in our genes. On another edge of the continuum is the Buddhist notion of “not-self,” which claims that what we conceive of as self, and as our identity, is an invented narrative. As a neuroscientist, it’s imperative for me to integrate these contrasting perspectives.

The phenomenon of non-identity may determine the efficiency by which most of us can detach our action from our personality. It is the reason we can justify acting unfriendly toward friend or rival and split those feelings from what we know ourselves to be. I can continue to see myself as a friendly person even as I act antagonistically towards another. What allows the separation in character does not establish this as a dualistic idea, for while the brain expresses the mind, the mind is not just the brain. One metaphor is to conceive of the image on a television or movie screen as the larger mind, while the pixels are individuals with smaller minds and brains. The individual pixels reflect the local changes in light but interdependently with the wider image being shown on the screen.

This larger mind is a concept we need to discern better to understand the narrower individual fluctuations and to carry out wiser human actions.

The Need for Heroes

First responders are indeed heroes. But so are second- and third responders. We are all potential heroes. Comparative mythologist Joseph Campbell (1988) concluded that we go through a hero-like journey throughout our ordinary lifespan. Whether it is better and healthier to invest hero-like qualities on others rather than ourselves is the key question?

The yearning to discover someone whom to count on, to speak with integrity, to project our emotions and fears onto, and to guide us out of our troubles is an innate human desire. It is a wish that emerges from a natural response to the ambiguities of existence. This projection of our unpredictability produces a bounded manifestation which we can readily handle. That process is not unlike, and perhaps the same as, when in illness we encounter a constellation of symptoms. But the cluster of symptoms is puzzling and we cannot determine how to address them until the physician gives it a name. The phantom-like quality of what has been plaguing us now bears a name and we feel greater control and capable of handling it.  Thus, part of naming the unknown and creating an identifiable entity is to achieve control of life’s unpredictability. When we extend this expression of our dreads onto someone else, and then that person calms our worries by their efforts, we set up the essential elements of a hero.

A hero, however, does more than mitigate our fears. We attribute virtue and moral goodness to their acts, and they gain iconic status and become inspiring symbols. Something shifts in the shared unconscious that lends authority to the hero’s image. At that stage, even myths about our heroes have a soothing function. Story-telling involving such iconic heroes then turns into an attractive replacement for the original thing. Heroic stories become the social glue that contribute to a group’s cohesiveness. As we meet around the metaphorical hearth, we hear the stories, have a shared experience, enhance the community bonds, and reconfirm our communal identification. In the midst of the coronavirus pandemic, and the confusion it has produced, the regular updates by Dr. Anthony Fauci of the coronavirus task force or New York Governor Cuomo become a requisite television moment. For these are contemporary iconic heroes.

Joseph Campbell maintained that heroes go through a personal transformation during their hero journeys. I would assert that the metamorphosis is more in the beholder’s mind; In those who crave a hero with self-confidence, humility, and a sense of their place in the universe. When that self-fulfillment happens, the hero changes. The investment of this goodwill into another individual being makes them a savior-like figure, which may or may not be an appropriate thing. Note that the change is in ourselves and there is no need to project. As some psychologists contend, “heroes turn us into heroes ourselves.”

When internalized, the hero process moves us toward emotional, behavioral and spiritual health. All we require doing is to funnel that energy inwards and turn the mirror onto ourselves.

Walking Is a Miracle

It was a warm sunny spring day. The type that justifies living in California. I was meandering and enjoying a hiking trail around our housing complex when I lost my footing and fell. The injury was sufficient so I cannot partake in this exercise, at least for a while. The sudden pause gave me a chance to reconsider an activity I enjoy while sheltering in place during the covid-19 pandemic. In doing so, it made me appreciate walking more than ever.

Our hominid ancestors, Homo erectus, began ambulating upright over two million years ago. But it is only in the last few decades that researchers have gained insights into how we do it. The action is a complex mechanical engineering accomplishment. Complicated and mysterious enough that some have characterized it as a daily miracle we should not take for granted.

The term walking originates in the Old English word wealcan meaning “to roll.” A 2013 article in the Journal of Experimental Biology by Lipfert and colleagues outlines the unique interaction between ankle, knee, muscles and tendons that summarizes how we go about this roll. Wikipedia describes walking from a physics perspective as the kinetic energy of forward motion being traded dynamically for a rise in potential energy. At another level of definition, the movement results from the body “vaulting” (or rolling) over the leg on the ground. One leg moves forward in a way that maximizes motion while using minimal amounts of energy. This raises the center of mass to its highest point as the leg passes the vertical and dropping it to the lowest as the limbs spread apart.

The 2D inverted pendulum model of walking provides an even more explicit description. During forward motion, the leg that leaves the ground swings forward from the hip. This sweep is the first pendulum. Then the leg strikes the ground with the heel and rolls through to the toe in a motion described as an inverted pendulum. The motion of the two legs synchronize so that one foot is always in contact with the ground.

There are two stages necessary for starting this wealcan, the powerful “push-off” phase. The first stage is an “alleviation” in which the action relieves the trailing leg of the burden of supporting the body mass. Then in a “launching” stage, the knee buckles, allowing the rapid release of stored elastic energy in the ankle tendons, like the triggering of a catapult. The catapult energy from the ankle is used to swing the leg, not add sizeable amounts of energy to the forward motion. This makes it energy-efficient and agile, making the human action different from how robots walk. As the hip rotates 40 degrees in the sagittal plane during a normal stride it becomes a smooth, beautiful movement.

Is walking a simple act?  No. It is a complicated mechanical engineering organization of movements and forces that only recently has shed its mysteries. It is a daily miracle. We perform it so easily and overlook it from among the other physiological miracles, like seeing and hearing. The covid-19 pandemic has been a brutal war on humanity but also an opportunity to pause and recognize the many things we take for granted.

An Enhanced Sensory Experience

The world of my senses did not vanish, nor choirs of angels appear following what I characterize as my realization. There were, nonetheless, interesting new experiences. One was seeing things for what seemed like the first time. My childhood sense of curiosity re-appeared. It gave me an appreciation of the wonder of the world in the smallest things. The dew on the grass in the morning and how it reflected light. It drew me to the intricate details of the leaves and colors of flowers and the light on objects. I awakened from a black and white dream into a world of technicolor. An enhanced attentiveness and focused curiosity accompanied this hypersensitivity. But it was not a negative, schizophrenic-like experience, in which my brain could not filter out irrelevant things and thus felt overwhelmed. Instead, there was a calmness and a joy to it, a genuine delight in the experience.

I remember going outside one afternoon and looking up at the white wispy clouds in the sky. They appeared arranged by a master artist as buds around a bright sun.  I saw the red, pink, and yellow streaks of light from that sun as streaks of color from this artist’s palette painting the sky in translucent pastels. I then looked down and saw the reddish-brown leaves from the western sycamore outside our home and saw the carpet of leaves on the sidewalk. Looking at one leaf, the intricacy of the veins struck me as a well-planned highway transporting chlorophyll, the miracle protein that converts sunlight into oxygen. What struck me with even more force was the sense that all this was for my benefit.  More interesting than this hypersensitivity to sensory experiences was a natural increase in social behavior that connected me more with life. Having been an introvert most of my life, I found a remarkable unfoldment in empathy and concern for the feelings of others. These changes in perspective and my increased awareness of them is, I am certain, the difference between truly living and being lost in the fog of self-centeredness.