Again. It was happening again. Not even three weeks ago, federal agents murdered a mother of three named Renee Good. A few days before that, another federal immigration officer shot and killed Keith Porter, Jr. in Los Angeles. Daily, our city network of concerned citizens is documenting the injustices happening against our neighbors. Pittsburgh - like America itself - would not exist without immigrants, yet we watch them be dehumanized and terrorized hourly in what has long been known as Mister Rogers' Neighborhood.
Ever caught yourself scrolling through your phone for hours, not really looking for anything specific, just... scrolling? I used to do this constantly, especially during those four months after being laid off when I was freelancing and questioning everything about my life. It wasn't until I stumbled across research on emotional emptiness that I realized this mindless scrolling was actually a classic sign of something deeper... a void I was desperately trying to fill with endless content that never quite satisfied.
I spent about twenty years being confused about what emotional maturity actually meant. I thought it meant not getting angry. Or getting angry but being nice about it. It meant saying "I hear you" and "let me understand where you're coming from" and generally performing a kind of emotional competence that made other people feel validated. I was pretty good at it, actually. People liked me. I didn't blow up at anyone. I solved problems collaboratively. I was emotionally intelligent, or so I thought.
One of my earliest cognitive therapy patients asked if we'd spend time exploring his past. He thought we might find patterns that would explain his depression. I was taken aback. I had just discovered a set of powerful, active techniques that helped people change how they felt in the here-and-now. As a psychiatric resident, I had seen that endless venting without specific techniques for change led to little or no relief.
The word umwelt comes from biology, coined by ethologists studying animals in their natural habitats. It refers to the world as an organism can perceive it, based entirely on its sensory equipment. A bat's umwelt is built from echo. A dog's from scent. A tick's world is dominated by a single chemical cue that tells it when to drop from a branch onto a passing mammal.
We live in an era saturated with information. In a matter of minutes, we can find answers to both simple questions ("What's a good birthday gift for a 9-year-old boy?") and complex ones ("What's the optimal diet for a 40-year-old woman trying to build muscle?"). While some decisions are in fact deeply nuanced, most of the struggles that undermine our well-being are not caused by a lack of knowledge.
In my previous post, I summarized my response to Christian de Weerd, who denied that a Darwinian approach to consciousness is even possible. I argued that consciousness science has unnecessarily insulated itself from the evolutionary tools that revolutionized our understanding of every other biological phenomenon, and that treating human consciousness as the paradigm case distorts our picture of consciousness as a natural phenomenon spanning millions of species across millions of years.
Metaphors are linked to how we experience the world around us, according to seminal work by researchers George Lakoff and Mark Johnson. In English, we "move forward" with our lives and don't "retreat into" the past. We speak about people who are "cold as ice" and "heavy" matters we need to resolve. Some of these metaphorical expressions are more than just, well, expressions-they are actually based on our sensory experiences. This mind-body link is called "embodied cognition."
Ever walked into a room and instantly felt the tension, even though no one said a word? Or found yourself inexplicably exhausted after spending time with certain people? I used to think I was just overly sensitive. After getting my psychology degree, I'd find myself completely drained after social gatherings, carrying emotions that didn't even feel like mine. It wasn't until I dove deeper into Eastern philosophy and mindfulness practices that I realized something profound: I was absorbing other people's emotions like a sponge.
A few years ago, I climbed over a gate and found myself gazing down at a valley. After I'd been walking for a few minutes, looking at the fields and the sky, there was a shift in my perception. Everything around me became intensely real. The fields and the bushes and trees and the clouds seemed more vivid, more intricate and beautiful.
When Michael Pollan traveled to a cave in New Mexico to try to understand consciousness, he learned what good meditation is really made of. "The recipe was simpler (and much less appetizing) than I would have imagined," he writes: " To transcend the self, force yourself to be alone with it long enough to get so bored and exhausted that you are happy to let it go. "
Take the sur­prise some have expressed in recent years upon find­ing out that the expres­sion to "pic­ture" some­thing in one's head isn't just a fig­ure of speech. You mean that peo­ple "pic­tur­ing an apple," say, haven't been just think­ing about an apple, but actu­al­ly see­ing one in their heads? The inabil­i­ty to do that has a name: aphan­ta­sia, from the Greek word phan­ta­sia, "image," and prefix - a, "with­out."
Fear of loneliness - which goes by a surprising number of names: autophobia, isolophobia, eremophobia, monophobia - is distinct from loneliness itself. It's the sense that no matter where you are (out in public, or within the comfort of your own home), you should take pains to make sure you don't end up alone. After all, that's when the dread begins to pump in: the anxiety, the feelings of inadequacy, the scrutinizing.
Did someone with spatial-sequence synaesthesia design the calendar app on mobile phones? Because that's how time and dates look in my brain. If you say a date to me, that day appears in a grid diagram in my head, and it shows if that box is already imprinted with a holiday, event or someone's birthday. Public holidays and special events like Christmas and Easter are already imprinted for the year, and the diagram goes backwards to about 100,000BC
