We all have one.
Sometimes, I just want to flip the lid, take it out of my cranium and rest the damn thing on the window ledge.
There is no meaning. There is meaning. There is no meaning. There is meaning.
Chunter chunter, huffle puffle puff.
Wittgenstein was right.
When you drink or eat something really cold you can get an attack of Brain Freeze *shudders*. Brain Frazzle is something else I get from time to time and I’ve got it right about now. I like to think of it as the opposite of the freeze because your brain just overheats and short circuits out. In me it’s like the pre-frontal cortex, the executive functioning part of the brain that takes decisions, forward plans and applies rational thought to situations and problems, has gone on holiday – without notice.
It means I am left to navigate my way through life based on my more ancient brain, the brain part that in humans resembles that of all animals down to lizards. It means my responses are based on the survival imperative. I am more emotional (I swear more), I am more tired (I want to sleep more), I eat indiscriminately (too many chunky Kit Kat fingers) and the passage of time has gone all abstract on me (time and days of the week are becoming elusive).
It also means I can’t write very well, if at all. It’s not that the words won’t come if I tap, tap, tap – usually something does arise, but it means it comes from a place that I don’t have cognitive access to. I can’t plan what I’m going to say, and when it comes out, I have only a limited ability to fix it up into something resembling a readable state. Usually, writing makes me feel more like myself, at the moment, it makes me feel further from myself.
Perhaps I need an extended rest. The problem with stopping, in my experience though, is that it can make it nigh on impossible to get started again.
Every day, lately, it feels rather like I am scraping the remains of my mind up off the floor and stuffing them back into my head, in any old order, wherein the rabble will form a simulacrum of a brain and, if I am lucky, attempt some rational thought.
Perhaps I could be rewired.
Perhaps I could not.
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…
What does you may wonder. It’s description of the mind – mine & yours.
from The Evolution of Consciousness: The Origins of the Way We Think by Robert Ornstein
Like the rest of biological evolution, the human mind is a collage of adaptations (the propensity to do the right thing) to different situations. Our thought is a pack of fixed routines—simpletons. We need them. It is vital to find the right food at the right time, to mate well, to generate children, to avoid marauders, to respond to emergency quickly….
The mind evolved great breadth, but it is shallow, for it performs quick and dirty sketches of the world. This rough-and-ready perception of reality enabled our ancestors to survive better. The mind did not evolve to know the world or to know ourselves. Simply speaking, there has never been, nor will there ever be, enough time to be truly rational. “
Personally, I find that notion somewhat depressing.
This is much more like it. A 3D brain scan published in National Geographic this summer showing the neural pathways in the brain. Truly, a thing of beauty.