Tag: psychology

Neuroscientists, studying lobsters, have concluded that unsuccessful humans tend to be physically and psychologically more reactive to events that arouse emotions, especially negative ones, due to their low serotonin levels. In contrast, successful humans will have the opposite disposition: they will be less reactive, less alert, distinguishing themselves as calm and confident individuals. Ah, how beautiful simplifications are! Is it really true that, except in extreme cases, the unsuccessful man becomes reactive and psychologically fragile, while the successful man becomes a kind of psychological fortress, serene and at peace? Or is it that, more often than not, when psychological adolescence is overcome, failure teaches humility and success tends to inflate self-esteem, which imprisons, disturbs, paralyzes, and ultimately causes such severe heartbreak that the humble man can only conceive of it with great effort? Which of them fears failure more? Which one is more concerned with what he might lose? … This is the biggest problem in science. The mature man, who is not just a pile of molecules, if he looks back on the past, will surely say, “Thank God I failed.”

The difficult thing about building a personality is that, most of the time, one has the feeling of being driven by circumstances, fulfilling inevitable obligations, and not exercising free will. Because of this, one lives without giving due weight to one’s actions, and does not view routine as the consequence of a personal choice. Undoubtedly, this is the greatest psychological advantage of sadhus and sannyasis: by burning all material ties, they can no longer feel compelled to do anything, nor forced by anyone. But one does not need to be so radical to realize that, after all, personal growth comes with responsibility, and this implies the awareness that, at all times, it is possible to choose.

Undoubtedly, any stability would be impossible if the impulse to change were not repeatedly curbed by what can sometimes be called prudence, sometimes fear, sometimes lack of reflection. To the mind, however, none of this matters: the impulse repeats itself, daydreams follow it thousands of times, and thousands of times they end in anything but action. Buddhism is well aware of the futility and irrationality of these daydreams and this uncontrollable movement. However, the impulse that repeats itself identically, the longing that does not fade and intensifies over time, must mean something. Let it appear and go away as naturally as it came… Very well, very well. Sometimes, however, the experience raises a question; and this, sooner or later, must be answered.

There is an antenna in the mind whose functioning must be studied, and from which the best decisions often derive. It is difficult to understand it because, sometimes, circumstances are not enough to justify its action. The common case is one in which these remain the same for a prolonged period of time, often for years, and the antenna remains silent, without picking up or emitting any signal. Then, suddenly, it awakens, picking up infinite connections at once, recommending immediate, urgent action, even before it is clear what needs to be done. This is followed by a flurry of ideas, and the attempt to organize them is overshadowed by the feeling that a lot of time has been lost. The agitation becomes painful; if it is nighttime, sleep is impossible. Finally, after a few electrifying hours, thoughts become organized and allow for deliberation. What satisfaction comes after!