So you may have heard about the book My Stroke of Genius. I was introduced to it almost a year ago on Fresh Air. If you'd like to go right to the source, you can just click on over.
But here's my take.
So this neurologist had a massive stroke and, with the help of her mother et al, is now completely recovered. That's the least interesting part of the story. Her stroke attacked the language center of her brain, and most of her recovery was centered on communication skills, speech, etc. But before the rehabilitation started, while her right brain was utterly dominant, even exclusive, she experienced a state that most would describe as enlightenment. Without language, there was no delineation. Without the power to name things, the recognition of the uniqueness of things vanished. Without the other, she had no self, no ego. She experienced, continually, her connection to the world and everything in it. She was in a state of utter bliss. So much so that she fought rehabilitation and reconciled her return to the world of intellect only if she could hang onto the ability to return to that place of peace, oneness, and selflessness. Astonishingly, she managed to do it. She returned to her career, wrote this book, and continued her investigations of the workings of the human brain, as well as participating in the myriad petty concerns and stresses of the quotidian, but says that whenever she wants or needs it, she can simply turn off her right hemisphere. She can tell her brain to shut the fuck up and be truly present and aware and part of the world.
Religion is a right hemisphere story. Enlightenment, nirvana, being saved, seeing the light, whatever your religion calls it - these are just different ways of describing the same thing: letting go of the analytical part of the brain. For me, this is more proof that our higher power is simply our connection to everyone and everything, and our ability to transcend is simply our ability to let go. I'm sure some religious people might find her experience disheartening. The possibility that deep, spiritual peace is simply the deactivation of neurons or receptors or whatever might seem unglamorous, dull, utterly technical and lacking in magic. To me, it is one of the most hopeful, inspiring things I've ever heard. I don't do religion. I'm not a scientist, but I'm a big fan of logic (too much so, in fact, ironically contributing to my resistance to achieving the non-magical, elevated state I seek). And knowing that peace, happiness, presence is simply a matter of stopping the words, as difficult as that has proven to be, thrills me. I do love the philosophy of secular Buddhism, and it has helped me more than I can express, but when it comes down to it, the understanding that suffering comes from grasping and clinging, that we are all connected, etc, etc, pales in comparison to feeling it. I have, for a few seconds at a time, on good days, or at least I've come close. But I want more. I want the non-wanting. I want it like I want 77 degrees, an ocean, and sunshine. I want it like I want true, passionate, everlasting love. And I like the idea that I don't have to be special, or devoted, or a believer of any kind, to achieve that. Right now, I'd be happy to give up my reliable, supportive, destructive brain to get it. Fortunately, I won't have to. I just have to teach it how to listen when I tell it to shut the fuck up. Or get hit with the perfect stroke, which, in all honesty, is probably just as likely.
I too sorta love this idea...
Posted by: Miss Bliss | March 30, 2009 at 02:35 PM