Storm's a'comin'...

I am enjoying a book by Jon Franklin, called The Wolf in the Parlor. At the 20% mark, I don’t yet have a good idea of what he’s going to conclude, but he is--at the point I’ve reached--struggling to come to grips with the nature of the ancient relationship between man and canine.

Most interesting has been a tangential trip into the tri-partite condition of the human brain. It seems, evolutionarily speaking, that the reptilian reflex-based version of a brain emerged first, followed by the more flexible and emotionally complex mammalian edition, while the primate addendum--with its ability to create cognitive models and formulate detached rational conclusions--is the Johnny-Come-Lately in brain styling. And apparently, we inherited all three types, one on top of the next.*

It is possible, following the logic of brain hierarchy, to conclude that most human angst stems from the knotty problem that all data--even if it’s the kind you’d clearly delegate to the primate brain--must first traverse the reptilian and mammal brains before it can even be considered. Hence, it (the data) is, by the time the primate brain even gets ahold of it, saddled with all the baggage of need and emotion that the reptilian and mammalian ascribe to it in passing.

I have a point. My point is going to be that this insight into the internal struggles of the human brain has shed some light, retrospectively, into some chapters of my life which, at the time, were hard to narrate in an articulate way. One such chapter in particular is the one about my foray into nursing school during the academic year ’02/’03.

I completed the first year of a two year program at Johns Hopkins with an almost 4.0 (felled by the fact that the A- I clawed my way to in Pharmacology conveyed only 3.8 points.) And I liked it a lot. When I withdrew, one day into my second year, it was a little hard to explain to my friends and advisor, not to mention family. But I tried, using terms like “writer,” and “time,” and “family.” Still it was vague. All I knew for certain was that I’d been hit by an unanticipated emotional tidal wave that no rational explanation could adequately analyze.

But I understood it in a primitive way. I knew that emotion had delivered a knock-out punch to reason. Now I can articulate that my mammalian brain knew something which my primate brain could not, and it forcibly took the reins.

You know how dogs can sense storms coming, or know--when she’s still two miles away--that a favorite person is returning? Or know that the word “walk” has flickered through my brain long before I’ve batted an eye? My inner dog sensed the storm system called Alzheimer’s, but all it could tell the primate brain was this: “You have to spend time with your husband.” My primate part understood that message, but didn’t see how dropping out of school was the logical response. So the mammal walloped the primate and did it anyway.

At the time--Fall of ’03--Jeff had the faintest hint of symptoms. But it was mostly irritability. Except for his failure to install the bathroom tile properly (a job which I took over,) there was nothing discernibly wrong with him. But the thing I’ve learned about dogs is, if they’re really going berserk--I mean surpassing any sort of baseline berserk--then you’d better pay attention, regardless of what seems logical. My mammal brain sensed the storm system and went way more than baseline berserk. It’s just that it wasn’t until a year or two later that I had an inkling of the type of storm.

This is, so far, my favorite quote from The Wolf in the Parlor, on the “triune brain”:

We weren’t individuals, we were committees--and, like all committees, we were given to inner uncertainty, dispute, and even feuding. We were the only creature in nature capable of ganging up on itself.

Which is exactly what it felt like at the time--my brain ganged up on itself. Nowadays, when I get particularly crazy or out of sorts I try to say something akin to “What is it Lassie? What is it girl?” Unfortunately, my mammalian brain’s language skills are still not much better than Freddi the dog’s. So, as the I Ching is always telling me, with the most admirable of patience, I just have to chill and trust the Sage. And possibly batten down the hatches.

*On the notion that the "triune brain" model is outdated or simplistic: well, probably so. But I still love this quote from Wikipedia:

In this sense, the triune brain (more properly, perhaps, the "triune mind") is seen as a highly simplified but powerful organizing theme. The statistician George E.P. Box once quipped: "Essentially, all models are wrong, but some are useful."