Significant Finding — The Interbrain

The Science section of today’s edition of The Telegraph features a story about how a form of  ‘wi-fi’ connects human brains.  This phenomenon is known as The Interbrain, and is based on the research of Professor Digby Tantum, a clinical professor of psychotherapy at the University of Sheffield.

Reading this article helped fill in some blanks on my own theory of culture, and how it manifests within people.  I would like to develop a paper, after putting finishing touches on a different (current) thesis, that comes at this very same idea from a different angle.  I already believe that we are wired together, and I have a lot to say on this subject.  This only confirms some of my suspicions.

If you have not read today’s article from The Telegraph, do so.  It helps to explain aspects of our social nature.  Here is a passage I found particularly pertinent.

Prof Tantum believes that the communication between brains may happen as an ‘inadvertent leak’ and it may be linked to smell. Areas of the brain which have the most activity of neurons are located in the prefrontal cortex, and are linked with smelling. They also are situated where they follow the gaze.

Our social nature may be linked to smell?  I am willing to go out on a limb with a detail of my own theory.  I think the word ‘may’ is not necessary.  But in order to explain this, I will have to first explain how similar we are to social insects.  In my younger days, before i lost my strength, I was a beekeeper (among other things).  I had the chance to study bees, and later ants, up close and personal.  Those experiences have remained with me.  I look at human behavior through a lens formed during those years.

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I have not abandoned my NaNoWriMo project.  I have only set it aside for the time being.    When i finish the project i started 36 years ago — only days from doing so — I will have more time for that, and this blog, and maybe talking about some things that Professor Digby Tantum is introducing to the world.  His ideas allow me to begin discussing my own.  Many of which bleed over into spirituality and its various forms of religious manifestations throughout history.

Have a wonderful day.

 

 

The Limits of Faith

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This has been in the making for some time.  I was inspired to write a book.  I was disturbed enough to try.  For the past few years I have been hard at work developing the themes and concepts I wish to discuss, and integrating them into a model of the book.  The book itself was too complex to write in one go.  I had to build a model of it, to help me see what I was trying to say.

In some ways, the book has been a healthy diversion from life’s problems.  I have a form of muscular dystrophy that makes things quite challenging.  Several years ago I was forced to quit the working world, and deal head on with this.  It took a lot of effort to learn how to live with failing strength.  But I have.  Recently I moved from Arizona to North Carolina.  Soon I will move from an apartment into a home.  This was unthinkable three and four years ago.  But think it I did and now here I am.

Last year, at the beginning of summer, I made my first road trip, on my own.  I went to the 29th annual Pima Writers Workshop, in Tucson.  I submitted a manuscript to be critiqued by an agent.  First time doing that.  The guy likes my writing, but not as a book.  This did not stop me.  But it got me thinking about the scope of what I am trying to describe.  I have an awful lot of material that contradicts our understanding of ourselves.

One of the goals I set for myself at the beginning of this year was to write for an audience.  Begin publishing.  This blog has been on and off the back burner since its inception.  It has been difficult to keep this up while dealing with everything else.  But when I found the home, it occurred to me that I had achieved a goal I had set when I first could no longer work.  I had gotten myself out of one living situation I could no longer handle physically, and into one that I could.  A couple weeks ago I met at the house with a contractor to get a quote on a wheelchair ramp and a front deck, to replace the wooden staircase leading to the front door.  Afterwards, getting back in my van, I had to pause for a vision.  Something was telling me that I could finally pick up the blog again, and sustain it.

We live in a world gone mad.  I have been following the problem of radical Islam with intense disturbed fascination.  My writing interests have converged with world events.  I have spent my life finding the words to describe a phenomenon that regularly now is making the news.  Then, in the past few days, news broke of the pending executions of 14 pro-democracy demonstrators in Saudi Arabia.  As a writer, I feel a need to do something.  It is time to put an end to this madness.

My goal is to stop these executions from happening, by bringing attention to their plight.  But this is a short term goal.  Long term, my goal is to challenge our understanding of God, so that radical Islam loses its power.  My method will be to counter the narrative of radical Islam by describing it in new terms.  Religions like Islam and Christianity present a false view of God.  I am building a case.  We need a new understanding.  Something rational.  Because we have reached the limits of faith.

Ineffectual

In the wake of the attack in Nice, Manuel Valls, the French Prime Minister, said the following:

One could refuse to face facts, we could forget, move on.  But I must tell the truth to the French people, terrorism will be a part of our daily lives for a long time.

Does terrorism really need to be a part of people’s daily lives?  Or are the wrong people getting elected?

Shh. Shh. Writer at work.

The blog has not gone.

Quiet.  Writer.  Preoccupied.

My creative periods come in spurts, between bouts of symptoms.

My book is my focus.  I am writing my calling card.

In this moment, between symptoms, I can be intensely productive.

I am on disability.  But, I no longer believe my condition should hold me back.

My book, if she sells, will be evidence I can earn my own keep.

Silence is the foundation on which all noise is built.

Sacred Space.

Within, I work.

These last few days, more than a week.

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I am in a writing world, largely motionless. No inspiration here. Instead, I have been occupying myself with little things.

Dishes, and floors and weeds.

My sister and nephew are coming on Friday. With a little daily work, the home can present well.

And, while I knock out each task, I re-arrange my thoughts.

Some more.

How to complete the book? What is stopping me, now?

These last few days, more than a week, I am outward looking. I have turned to re-arranging my physical world, and it’s a lesson on my latest state.

Every so often, two or three times per year, these last couple. My strength rebounds. And I tackle things I could only dream of, the week before.

In the yard, I am installing a garden, designed to feed me vegetables through summer. In Tempe, the challenge is the extreme heat, typically in the 117-119 Farenheits range, at peak. I am only planting warm-weather crops, with which I have enjoyed success in previous years.

Swiss chard is surprisingly stout under the summer sun. I have them, twice paired, with collard greens and hollyhocks, in one grouping.

In two others, I am planting okra, together with cantaloups, cucumbers and three squashes. Zucchini, acorn, and kabocha.

Since the vines typically wither by July on their own, they will hang out, this year, under a lady-finger shade.

I still intend to pick up a yam and a sweet potato from the grocery store. Cut some pieces, to sprout new vines, while eating the rest.

But, I’m unsure about something.

Is this latest bit of ambition temporary? Or, can I make it permanent? I decided last week to tackle the disorganization and dirt surrounding me. Get the dirt out of the house, and organize the it in the yard.

I broke it down to simple tasks, like watering, and digging. Watering is an easy, daily activity. Digging depends on energy, So I bounce between the couch and the garden, throughout the day.

Dig, then lay down. Then dig some more, followed by another rest.

Thank goodness, these past ten years, for all the done-digging. Keeping it loose and easy.

Well, the shovel-work and planting is now largely finished, until fall. Next, I can vacuum and sweep and mop. Tomorrow through Friday.

The strategy is working, but, will it remain stable when I go back to writing? Can I do all three, in some measure, each day? Can I write, and still find the mental energy to also take care of my surroundings?

Although I am dealing with muscles at low strength, this challenge seems more mental, than anything.

It should be doable.

What comes first?

In bycicle?
The ‘i’ or the ‘y’?
It must be the ‘i’.
Bicycle.
That looks better. I just need to remember.
It’s the same ‘b-i’ as bi-annual, or bi-sexual, or bi-headed. Because there are two wheels.
Why do I mess it up so consistently?
I blame my great-grandfather. My mom’s, dad’s, dad.
He changed Bykowski to Byke. My mother’s maiden name.
A family name. Damn it!
I know how to spell the family name.
But every time I try to spell ‘bicycle’, my brain inserts the ‘y’ before the ‘i’.
Will I ever get it right without thinking about it?