terça-feira, 27 de maio de 2008

L. Kaufman, NY Times : «A Superhighway to Bliss»

A Superhighway to Bliss

May 25, 2008

JILL BOLTE TAYLOR was a neuroscientist working at Harvard’s brain research center when she experienced nirvana.

Dr. Taylor says the right, creative lobe can be used to foster contentment.

But she did it by having a stroke.

On Dec. 10, 1996, Dr. Taylor, then 37, woke up in her apartment near Boston with a piercing pain behind her eye. A blood vessel in her brain had popped. Within minutes, her left lobe — the source of ego, analysis, judgment and context — began to fail her. Oddly, it felt great.

The incessant chatter that normally filled her mind disappeared. Her everyday worries — about a brother with schizophrenia and her high-powered job — untethered themselves from her and slid away.

Her perceptions changed, too. She could see that the atoms and molecules making up her body blended with the space around her; the whole world and the creatures in it were all part of the same magnificent field of shimmering energy.

“My perception of physical boundaries was no longer limited to where my skin met air,” she has written in her memoir, “My Stroke of Insight,” which was just published by Viking.

After experiencing intense pain, she said, her body disconnected from her mind. “I felt like a genie liberated from its bottle,” she wrote in her book. “The energy of my spirit seemed to flow like a great whale gliding through a sea of silent euphoria.”

While her spirit soared, her body struggled to live. She had a clot the size of a golf ball in her head, and without the use of her left hemisphere she lost basic analytical functions like her ability to speak, to understand numbers or letters, and even, at first, to recognize her mother. A friend took her to the hospital. Surgery and eight years of recovery followed.

Her desire to teach others about nirvana, Dr. Taylor said, strongly motivated her to squeeze her spirit back into her body and to get well.

This story is not typical of stroke victims. Left-brain injuries don’t necessarily lead to blissful enlightenment; people sometimes sink into a helplessly moody state: their emotions run riot. Dr. Taylor was also helped because her left hemisphere was not destroyed, and that probably explains how she was able to recover fully.

Today, she says, she is a new person, one who “can step into the consciousness of my right hemisphere” on command and be “one with all that is.”

To her it is not faith, but science. She brings a deep personal understanding to something she long studied: that the two lobes of the brain have very different personalities. Generally, the left brain gives us context, ego, time, logic. The right brain gives us creativity and empathy. For most English-speakers, the left brain, which processes language, is dominant. Dr. Taylor’s insight is that it doesn’t have to be so.

Her message, that people can choose to live a more peaceful, spiritual life by sidestepping their left brain, has resonated widely.

In February, Dr. Taylor spoke at the Technology, Entertainment, Design conference (known as TED), the annual forum for presenting innovative scientific ideas. The result was electric. After her 18-minute address was posted as a video on TED’s Web site, she become a mini-celebrity. More than two million viewers have watched her talk, and about 20,000 more a day continue to do so. An interview with her was also posted on Oprah Winfrey’s Web site, and she was chosen as one of Time magazine’s 100 most influential people in the world for 2008.

She also receives more than 100 e-mail messages a day from fans. Some are brain scientists, who are fascinated that one of their own has had a stroke and can now come back and translate the experience in terms they can use. Some are stroke victims or their caregivers who want to share their stories and thank her for her openness.

But many reaching out are spiritual seekers, particularly Buddhists and meditation practitioners, who say her experience confirms their belief that there is an attainable state of joy.

“People are so taken with it,” said Sharon Salzberg, a founder of the Insight Mediation Society in Barre, Mass. “I keep getting that video in e-mail. I must have 100 copies.”

She is excited by Dr. Taylor’s speech because it uses the language of science to describe an occurrence that is normally ethereal. Dr. Taylor shows the less mystically inclined, she said, that this experience of deep contentment “is part of the capacity of the human mind.”

Since the stroke, Dr. Taylor has moved to Bloomington, Ind., an hour from where she was raised in Terre Haute and where her mother, Gladys Gillman Taylor, who nursed her back to health, still lives.

Originally, Dr. Taylor became a brain scientist — she has a Ph.D. in life sciences with a specialty in neuroanatomy — because she has a mentally ill brother who suffers from delusions that he is in direct contact with Jesus. And for her old research lab at Harvard, she continues to speak on behalf of the mentally ill.

But otherwise, she has dialed back her once loaded work schedule. Her house is on a leafy cul-de-sac minutes from Indiana University, which she attended as an undergraduate and where she now teaches at the medical school.

Her foyer is painted a vibrant purple. She greets a stranger at the door with a warm hug. When she talks, her pale blue eyes make extended contact.

Never married, she lives with her dog and two cats. She unselfconsciously calls her mother, 82, her best friend.

She seems bemused but not at all put off by the hundreds who have reached out to her on a spiritual level. Religious ecstatics who claim to see angels have asked her to appear on their radio and television programs.

She has declined these offers. Although her father is an Episcopal minister and she was raised in his church, she cannot be counted among the traditionally faithful. “Religion is a story that the left brain tells the right brain,” she said.

Still, Dr. Taylor says, “nirvana exists right now.”

“There is no doubt that it is a beautiful state and that we can get there,” she said.

That belief has certainly sparked debate. On Web sites like evolvingbeings.com and in Eckhart Tolle discussion groups, people debate whether she is truly enlightened or just physically damaged and confused.

Even her own scientific brethren have wondered.

“When I saw her on the TED video, at first I thought, Oh my god, is she losing it,” said Dr. Francine M. Benes, director of the Harvard Brain Tissue Resource Center, where Dr. Taylor once worked.

Dr. Benes makes clear that she still thinks Dr. Taylor is an extraordinary and competent woman. “It is just that the mystical side was not apparent when she was at Harvard,” Dr. Benes said.

Dr. Taylor makes no excuses or apologies, or even explanations. She says instead that she continues to battle her left brain for the better. She gently offers tips on how it might be done.

“As the child of divorced parents and a mentally ill brother, I was angry,” she said. Now when she feels anger rising, she trumps it with a thought of a person or activity that brings her pleasure. No meditation necessary, she says, just the belief that the left brain can be tamed.

Her newfound connection to other living beings means that she is no longer interested in performing experiments on live rat brains, which she did as a researcher.

She is committed to making time for passions — physical and visual — that she believes exercise her right brain, including water-skiing, guitar playing and stained-glass making. A picture of one of her intricate stained-glass pieces — of a brain — graces the cover of her book.

Karen Armstrong, a religious historian who has written several popular books including one on the Buddha, says there are odd parallels between his story and Dr. Taylor’s.

“Like this lady, he was reluctant to return to this world,” she said. “He wanted to luxuriate in the sense of enlightenment.”

But, she said, “the dynamic of the religious required that he go out into the world and share his sense of compassion.”

And in the end, compassion is why Dr. Taylor says she wrote her memoir. She thinks there is much to be mined from her experience on how brain-trauma patients might best recover and, in fact, she hopes to open a center in Indiana to treat such patients based on those principles.

And then there is the question of world peace. No, Dr. Taylor doesn’t know how to attain that, but she does think the right hemisphere could help. Or as she told the TED conference:

“I believe that the more time we spend choosing to run the deep inner peace circuitry of our right hemispheres, the more peace we will project into the world, and the more peaceful our planet will be.”

It almost seems like science.

quinta-feira, 15 de maio de 2008

D. Brooks , NY Times : «The Neural Buddhists»

The Neural Buddhists

May 13, 2008

In 1996, Tom Wolfe wrote a brilliant essay called “Sorry, but Your Soul Just Died,” in which he captured the militant materialism of some modern scientists.

To these self-confident researchers, the idea that the spirit might exist apart from the body is just ridiculous. Instead, everything arises from atoms. Genes shape temperament. Brain chemicals shape behavior. Assemblies of neurons create consciousness. Free will is an illusion. Human beings are “hard-wired” to do this or that. Religion is an accident.

In this materialist view, people perceive God’s existence because their brains have evolved to confabulate belief systems. You put a magnetic helmet around their heads and they will begin to think they are having a spiritual epiphany. If they suffer from temporal lobe epilepsy, they will show signs of hyperreligiosity, an overexcitement of the brain tissue that leads sufferers to believe they are conversing with God.

Wolfe understood the central assertion contained in this kind of thinking: Everything is material and “the soul is dead.” He anticipated the way the genetic and neuroscience revolutions would affect public debate. They would kick off another fundamental argument over whether God exists.

Lo and behold, over the past decade, a new group of assertive atheists has done battle with defenders of faith. The two sides have argued about whether it is reasonable to conceive of a soul that survives the death of the body and about whether understanding the brain explains away or merely adds to our appreciation of the entity that created it.

The atheism debate is a textbook example of how a scientific revolution can change public culture. Just as “The Origin of Species reshaped social thinking, just as Einstein’s theory of relativity affected art, so the revolution in neuroscience is having an effect on how people see the world.

And yet my guess is that the atheism debate is going to be a sideshow. The cognitive revolution is not going to end up undermining faith in God, it’s going to end up challenging faith in the Bible.

Over the past several years, the momentum has shifted away from hard-core materialism. The brain seems less like a cold machine. It does not operate like a computer. Instead, meaning, belief and consciousness seem to emerge mysteriously from idiosyncratic networks of neural firings. Those squishy things called emotions play a gigantic role in all forms of thinking. Love is vital to brain development.

Researchers now spend a lot of time trying to understand universal moral intuitions. Genes are not merely selfish, it appears. Instead, people seem to have deep instincts for fairness, empathy and attachment.

Scientists have more respect for elevated spiritual states. Andrew Newberg of the University of Pennsylvania has shown that transcendent experiences can actually be identified and measured in the brain (people experience a decrease in activity in the parietal lobe, which orients us in space). The mind seems to have the ability to transcend itself and merge with a larger presence that feels more real.

This new wave of research will not seep into the public realm in the form of militant atheism. Instead it will lead to what you might call neural Buddhism.

If you survey the literature (and I’d recommend books by Newberg, Daniel J. Siegel, Michael S. Gazzaniga, Jonathan Haidt, Antonio Damasio and Marc D. Hauser if you want to get up to speed), you can see that certain beliefs will spread into the wider discussion.

First, the self is not a fixed entity but a dynamic process of relationships. Second, underneath the patina of different religions, people around the world have common moral intuitions. Third, people are equipped to experience the sacred, to have moments of elevated experience when they transcend boundaries and overflow with love. Fourth, God can best be conceived as the nature one experiences at those moments, the unknowable total of all there is.

In their arguments with Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins, the faithful have been defending the existence of God. That was the easy debate. The real challenge is going to come from people who feel the existence of the sacred, but who think that particular religions are just cultural artifacts built on top of universal human traits. It’s going to come from scientists whose beliefs overlap a bit with Buddhism.

In unexpected ways, science and mysticism are joining hands and reinforcing each other. That’s bound to lead to new movements that emphasize self-transcendence but put little stock in divine law or revelation. Orthodox believers are going to have to defend particular doctrines and particular biblical teachings. They’re going to have to defend the idea of a personal God, and explain why specific theologies are true guides for behavior day to day. I’m not qualified to take sides, believe me. I’m just trying to anticipate which way the debate is headed. We’re in the middle of a scientific revolution. It’s going to have big cultural effects.

quarta-feira, 14 de maio de 2008

Un frisson naît et monte de ma forme élancée

Le soir quand je suis nue et que je me contemple

Et sur ma hanche souple au fléchissement ample

Passent des voluptés en caresses glacées,

Pâle en la psyché blonde, impavide et dressée

Comme une déité superbe dans un temple,

Et t’évoquant, Vénus Solitaire, en Exemple

L’hermaphrodite amour naît en ma pensée.

De fleurs mortes au sein de coupes transparentes

Une senteur morbide émane exaspérante

Et mes sens font un pas d’ardeur inanimée.

Alors, doubles, je vois s’adorer mes prunelles

Et mes lèvres se joindre et se baiser, pâmées,

L’une à l’autre écrasant mes quadruples mamelles.


Roger de Nereys

havia um nome...

domingo, 27 de abril de 2008

Pessoa, « Hora Absurda», 04/07/1913

HORA ABSURDA

O teu silêncio é uma nau com todas as velas pandas...
Brandas, as brisas brincam nas flâmulas, teu sorriso...
E o teu sorriso no teu silêncio é as escadas e as andas
Com que me finjo mais alto e ao pé de qualquer paraíso... Meu coração é uma ânfora que cai e que se parte...
O teu silêncio recolhe-o e guarda-o, partido, a um canto...
Minha idéia de ti é um cadáver que o mar traz à praia..., e entanto
Tu és a tela irreal em que erro em cor a minha arte... Abre todas as portas e que o vento varra a idéia
Que temos de que um fumo perfuma de ócio os salões...
Minha alma é uma caverna enchida p'la maré cheia,
E a minha idéia de te sonhar uma caravana de histriões... Chove ouro baço, mas não no lá-fora... É em mim... Sou a Hora,
E a Hora é de assombros e toda ela escombros dela...
Na minha atenção há uma viúva pobre que nunca chora...
No meu céu interior nunca houve uma única estrela... Hoje o céu é pesado como a idéia de nunca chegar a um porto...
A chuva miúda é vazia... A Hora sabe a ter sido...
Não haver qualquer cousa como leitos para as naus!... Absorto
Em se alhear de si, teu olhar é uma praga sem sentido... Todas as minhas horas são feitas de jaspe negro,
Minhas ânsias todas talhadas num mármore que não há,
Não é alegria nem dor esta dor com que me alegro,
E a minha bondade inversa não é nem boa nem má... Os feixas dos lictores abriram-se à beira dos caminhos...
Os pendões das vitórias medievais nem chegaram às cruzadas...
Puseram in-fólios úteis entre as pedras das barricadas...
E a erva cresceu nas vias férreas com viços daninhos... Ah, como esta hora é velha!... E todas as naus partiram!
Na praia só um cabo morto e uns restos de vela falam
Do Longe, das horas do Sul, de onde os nossos sonhos tiram
Aquela angústia de sonhar mais que até para si calam... O palácio está em ruínas... Dói ver no parque o abandono
da fonte sem repuxo... Ninguém ergue o olhar da estrada
E sente saudades de si ante aquele lugar-outono...
Esta paisagem é um manuscrito com a frase mais bela cortada... A doida partiu todos os candelabros glabros,
Sujou de humano o lago com cartas rasgadas, muitas...
E a minha alma é aquela luz que não mais haverá nos candelabros...
E que querem ao lago aziago minhas ânsias, brisas fortuitas?... Por que me aflijo e me enfermo?... Deitam-se nuas ao luar
Todas as ninfas... Vejo o sol e já tinham partido...
O teu silêncio que me embala é a idéia de naufragar,
E a idéia de a tua voz soar a lira dum Apolo fingido... Já não há caudas de pavões todas olhos nos jardins de outrora...
As próprias sombras estão mais tristes... Ainda
Há rastros de vestes de aias (parece) no chão, e ainda chora
Um como que eco de passos pela alameda que eis finda... Todos os casos fundiram-se na minha alma...
As relvas de todos os prados foram frescas sob meus pés frios...
Secou em teu olhar a idéia de te julgares calma,
E eu ver isso em ti é um porto sem navios... Ergueram-se a um tempo todos os remos... Pelo ouro das searas
Passou uma saudade de não serem o mar... Em frente
Ao meu trono de alheamento há gestos com pedras raras...
Minha alma é uma lâmpada que se apagou e ainda está quente... Ah, e o teu silêncio é um perfil de píncaro ao sol!
Todas as princesas sentiram o seio oprimido...
Da última janela do castelo só um girassol
Se vê, e o sonhar que há outros põe brumas no nosso sentido... Sermos, e não sermos mais!... Ó leões nascidos na jaula!...
Repique de sinos para além, no Outro Vale... Perto?...
Arde o colégio e uma criança ficou fechada na aula...
Por que não há de ser o Norte o Sul?... O que está descoberto?... E eu deliro... De repente pauso no que penso... Fito-te
E o teu silêncio é uma cegueira minha... Fito-te e sonho...
Há cousas rubras e cobras no modo como medito-te,
E a tua idéia sabe à lembrança de um sabor de medonho... Para que não ter por ti desprezo? Por que não perdê-lo?...
Ah, deixa que eu te ignore... O teu silêncio é um leque-
Um leque fechado, um leque que aberto seria tão belo, tão belo,
Mas mais belo é não o abrir, para que a Hora não peque... Gelaram todas as mãos cruzadas sobre todos os peitos...
Murcharam mais flores do que as que havia no jardim...
O meu amar-te é uma catedral de silêncios eleitos,
E os meus sonhos uma escada sem princípio mas com fim... Alguém vai entrar pela porta... Sente-se o ar sorrir...
Tecedeiras viúvas gozam as mortalhas de virgens que tecem...
Ah, oteu tédio é uma estátua de uma mulher que há de vir,
O perfume que os crisântemos teriam, se o tivessem... É preciso destruir o propósito de todas as pontes,
Vestir de alheamento as paisagens de todas as terras,
Endireitar à força a curva dos horizontes,
E gemer por ter de viver, como um ruído brusco de serras... Há tão pouca gente que ame as paisagens que não existem!...
Saber que continuará a haver o mesmo mundo amanhã - como nos desalegra !...
Que o meu ouvir o teu silêncio não seja nuvens que atristem
O teu sorriso, anjo exilado, e o teu tédio, auréola negra... Suave, como ter mãe e irmãs, a tarde rica desce...
Não chove já, e o vasto céu é um grande sorriso imperfeito...
A minha consciência de ter consciência de ti é uma prece,
E o meu saber-te a sorrir é uma flor murcha a meu peito... Ah, se fôssemos duas figuras num longínquo vitral!...
Ah, se fôssemos as duas cores de uma bandeira de glória!...
Estátua acéfala posta a um canto, poeirenta pia batismal,
Pendão de vencidos tendo escrito ao centro este lema - Vitória! O que é que me tortura?... Se até a tua face calma
Só me enche de tédios e de ópios de ócios medonhos...
Não sei... Eu sou um doido que estranha a sua própria alma...
Eu fui amado em efígie num país para além dos sonhos...