The Silent, Dark Brain

Our brain lives in silence. And darkness. It knows only what we tell it, and is dependent on our sensory receptors to know what’s going on. External stimuli supplies internal information, which determines how we function. That explains why our senses are so important.

What we see, hear, touch, smell, and taste matter to how we react to circumstances around us. And I would add that what we say to ourself matters as well. The brain doesn’t know that the stove is hot until we touch it, nor does it know that we’re in danger until we see it or hear it. Liver might taste awesome if we first didn’t smell it, because taste is driven by smell. As for me, I don’t care how you dress it up, no piece of liver is going down my gullet. But that’s just me.

We are an accumulation of our sensory experience. It’s our history, and it helps us define functionality. If I fall and hurt myself, or break a bone, I have a memory that falling equals pain. But if I fall and just bruise myself, I say several exceedingly bad words, then pick myself up and go about my life. My memory says that falling is annoying, but not necessarily painful. Whichever story we tell ourselves, our brain knows nothing until it has sensory information. And what we tell ourselves about the incident. If we tell our brain that falling is bad, painful, and damaging to our body, that’s what we come to believe. It then alters how we move, because we develop a fear of falling. We are more careful, move slower, take less risks, limit our possibilities.

However, if we tell ourselves that falling is merely inconvenient, that we might hurt ourselves but probably not, that we know rehab or know where to find it if we’re injured, then we tamp down that fear of falling, and our possibilities expand. It doesn’t hurt if we have developed muscle around our bones, as protection. That’s your cue to exercise.

Our big mouth is our worst enemy. Our brain doesn’t care what we tell it, and it believes everything. Remember, the brain lives in silence and darkness.

It’s up to us to tell our brain our perception of the truth. Occasionally, we fall down or ding ourselves. It’s part of life. Get up, move on. If you hurt yourself, forget the drama, and find someone who can rehabilitate you. Fear is a terrible master. Knowledge is everything.

That’s Aging Intelligently.