The Divided Self

I was particularly captivated by the ideas contained in The Happiness Hypothesis. The image of the man trying helplessly to control a wild elephant really resonated with me as I often feel my brain is working against itself or toward diametrically opposed goals. Even as I read, I noticed how often my mind would wander, often to memories or thoughts that were anxiety provoking or unpleasant. Despite my frustration and intention to prevent this, it continued to happen. While I have spent the majority of my life painfully at odds with my own mind, over the years I have learned that you cannot force your own biology to change and it is better to try and find inner harmony than to fight what you can’t willfully control. I have come to realize that we cannot completely reign-in and control our mind, but at best we can learn to monitor our mind more efficiently and in doing so, learn to keep it focused on what is productive for us, rather than the random ramblings or often destructive thoughts the mind often conjures up. According to Haidt (2006),
The automatic system was shaped by natural selection to trigger quick and reliable action, and it includes parts of the brain that make us feel pleasure and pain (such as the orbitofrontal cortex) and that trigger survival-related motivations (such as the hypothalamus). The automatic system has its finger on the dopamine release button. The controlled system, in contrast, is better seen as an advisor. It’s rider place on the elephant’s back to help the elephant make better choices. (p.17)

Reading this chapter really helped me feel as though the internal conflicts I often feel are justified and valid, but more importantly, this sense of acceptance was also accompanied by a feeling of motivation and hope. I like the author’s view of “emotional intelligence” given on page 18:
These thinking skills are an aspect of emotional intelligence – an ability to understand and regulate one’s own feelings and desires. An emotionally intelligent person has a skilled rider who knows how to distract and coax the elephant without having to engage in a direct contest of wills.
This section of the chapter left me with a new understanding and general feeling about the distinct divisions and drives that make me as a person. The way the author articulated the aforementioned points, I realized that managing yourself should not be a battle in which you inflict pain or harm unto yourself, but rather a game in which you intelligently learn to manage your biology and environment in a way that best suites you.
While I did not find the Living By a Love Ethic or On the Way to Good and Evil to be as personally relevant, I found that the combination of the three readings led to some interesting questions and insights. An interesting point brought up by Needleman seems to insinuate the largely counterproductive effects our intentions, religious and philosophical doctrines have had.
All we can say is that our religious ideals, our moral resolves, our ideologies, our campaign, however honorably conceived, have not prevented-and perhaps have even hastened-the arrival of our world and our lives at the rim of despair and destruction. (p. 99).
What the author is saying is that despite our best intentions (and it is probably the benefit of the doubt to call them “best intentions”), perhaps we are actually creating a worse existence. I mean think about it, if we were created by God, as most of the religions I know preach to one extent or another, then why must we spend so much time and energy and so many resources in “improving” our existence. The more I am disappointed by the attainment of material goodies and the less time I have for myself because of my drive for the “American Dream”, the more I begin to think that we inherited paradise (from God?) and took a big dump all over it, in the shape of freeways, skyscrapers, Wall Street, Big Business, Capitalism, The information superhighway, Politics etc. We have effectively replaced, happiness, sustainability and contentedness with the fantasy of one day attaining these states. It’s the progress paradox. The more “developed” and technologically advanced we become, the more miserable, anxious and hopeless we’ve simultaneously become.
We have transitioned from a people of feelings and experiences to a people of things and possessions. As implored by Williamson, “Yet we do not question why we live in states of extreme anxiety and dread. Fear is the primary force upholding structures of domination” (p. 93). Michael Moore recently said that he felt Capitalism was inherently wrong and I am beginning to agree. At what point do we stop seeing the growth of the prefrontal cortex, the establishment of the ego or any other term pinned to our “evolution” as inherently good and start seeing it as a adaptive coping mechanism as a result of a external world we’ve created, but in which we are not meant to live in? At what point does too big of a brain, too robust of an ego, too much technology and too many “things” become dangerous to our existence, if it hasn’t already?