Here is the analogy that one of my teachers used to describe the human brain: he lifted his right fist and said: “this is a lizard’s brain”. Then he covered it with his other hand and said: “this is a human brain”.
Within that inner “fist”, the animal section, there is an important area called the limbic system, which is in charge of primal reactions, with a remarkable “ignition button”, of the size of a peanut, called the “amygdala”.
The external, superficial area is called neocortex (from the latin terms neo=new and cortex=bark, i.e. surface), and is, presumably, in charge of all the “modern stuff”, like language, reasoning, etc.
The problem is that the limbic system comes always first: when the amygdala gets activated by any threatening perception, its messages, which can be a matter of life or death, get top priority, and will inhibit the rest of the brain signals for a while (the estimated average time is 90 seconds). Those are the cases in which we can see someone who acts like “possessed”, or even some of those murderers who in the aftermath of the killing claim “not remembering anything”, “acting as in a dream”, etc. This phenomenon of inhibition has been called “emotional hijack”.
Being “hijacked” by one’s own brain. Quite spooky, isn’t it? And to make things even worse, the amygdala, perhaps due to its primitive origins, its deep roots, has a very “easy trigger”, and once it gets impressed by a certain impulse, the impression will NEVER be completely erased. (Btw, if you don’t have enough, find out about yet another biological coercion here).
So far the bad news. Here come the good ones.
Joseph LeDoux, the researcher who discovered the role of the amygdala in emotional processes, also found out that the modern brain can be educated to inhibit the mechanism and range of the amygdala effects. So to say, you cannot avoid the fire, but you can improve your management as a fireman.
The emotional bursts start in the amygdala. See them as an explosion expanding from the inner brain towards the outer layer (and forcing corporal changes, too). Once the explosion reaches the “hand covering the fist”, the neocortex, this one gets to say something about the situation. In fact, many authors consider that the ability to manage that stage, our “neocortex reflexes” so to say, could be a very precise indicator of mental maturity. Such ability is, literally, what emotional intelligence is about.
After receiving the primitive signal, the neocortex processes it and then sends some signals back to the amygdala; signals that can be soothing or can surrender to the rage and fear sensations (didn’t you ever have the sensation that some people were inventing reasons for their anger, but anger was first?)
As an example of soothing messages, I really liked the proposal by Jill Bolte Taylor in her very peculiar book “My stroke of insight”. I say “peculiar” because it is a treatise on brain stroke both theoretical (Bolte Taylor is a neuroanatomist), and practical (she was victim of a brain stroke herself). In addition, there is no tiresome jargon in the book. I read it during my father’s illness (as explained here), and, though hard at some chapters (the minute-by-minute description of her stroke, while my father was still at the intensive care unit), it really helped me a lot. Don’t wait to have a stroke in your family to read it!
Dr. Bolte Taylor, during the acutest stages of her stroke, experienced a feeling of disintegration of the self into its elements, an egoless sensation that she describes as nice to the extent that she felt tempted to embrace it, to let herself go. After an experience like that, I guess it is easier for a person to question monolithic notions like “ego”, and to make abstraction of certain parts of oneself as desired. That’s the “trick” that she uses to deal with her limbic system, to face emotional outbursts:
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 feelings these emotions anymore. Please stop bringing this stuff up.”
Fascinating, isn’t it? A common mistake with undesired emotional responses is trying to repress them: “this is childish, I should not feel like this, I must be stronger”, etc. The usual result is like throwing water into a burning pan. Those feelings and emotions are part of oneself, too, and have the right to exist too. Just make sure they realize who’s the boss here… but be tender, because they are a part of you, too.
One more thing about physiological changes: it is important to remark that they remain “invisible” during the emotional hijack: you might notice that “you are becoming anxious”, but you do not notice that your heart has started to beat faster, your pupils have contracted, your breathing is accelerated. Those changes, on their side, will induce more negative perceptions and thoughts of rage, fear and anxiety. So the classic advice of stepping aside and taking a deep breath is more than pure poetry: mind and body are absolutely interconnected!
What’s your favorite trick or sentence to stand the dreaded 90 seconds? Any brain-fu lesson to share?
A hijack can be an opportunity, too
Related posts:
How to become optimistic with very little effort
Playing death
The magic of journaling
Honor your unconscious
Life right after removing the wrapper