I ended our last essay with a motto from the field of neuroscience: "Neurons that fire together wire together." We are born with pre-programmed structures in the brain that prepare us to avoid harms, seek rewards, connect with others, and pursue a meaningful life. But that is not the end of our story. Every moment of every day, we make choices (both conscious and unconscious) that reinforce existing neural pathways or build new ones. The ability of the brain to change with experience is called neuroplasticity.
With even a rudimentary understanding of neurological change, we gain access to powerful new tools. We can learn to modify our responses to painful stimuli, designing a brain that grows in capacity for happiness, one small choice at a time.
I inherited a fearful brain, perhaps from my grandmother (whose mantra, "Aren't you afraid?" echoes loudly, 50 years after I heard it the last time). Last week, I found myself fearing that paddling a kayak for two hours would damage my recovering wrist, trigger painful muscle spasms, and inflame the tendons that have been quick to complain after release from a protective cast.
After hours of sleep-depriving rumination, I decided to cancel the kayak tour and forfeit the deposit. Relieved, I fell back asleep. Then, when the sun rose and cobwebs cleared from my rational brain, I evaluated the risk more calmly and chose to move forward. It turned out well. I paddled strong into the wind and, if anything, the wrist emerged healthier for the exercise. I have been consciously re-running that experience of evaluating risk, taking it, and savoring the reward of a positive outcome. I trust that my neural pathways will face and overcome future fears more effectively if I reinforce the lessons from this episode.
Fear is only one pre-programmed response that I seek to challenge and change. I judge other people harshly, and want to default more quickly to compassionate understanding. I take things personally and react defensively. I want to short-circuit that reflex with a more insightful perspective. My temper flares when things don't go as planned. I want to practice the habit of a cooler response.
We tend to think of habits in terms of actions. We all have daily rituals: when we get up, what we eat, how we exercise, who we hang out with, what we do for fun, and where we go to recharge our energy. Neuroscientists now challenge us to understand and work as well with habits of thought. Thoughts generate emotion, and emotion fuels action. Even the actionable habits of of our everyday lives arise in the brain and its (often unconscious) patterns of firing and wiring together.
Many entrenched mental, emotional, and active behaviors serve us well. While it may be helpful to understand the connections between stimulus, thought, feeling, and response for those habits, there is no compelling need to change.
On the other hand, most of us have habits that conflict with our deepest values and highest aspirations. Eating and drinking habits might undermine our health. Perception and communication habits might undermine our relationships. Habits of judgment and blame might render us helpless by denying responsibility for the things we can change on our own. And yes, habits of fear can stand between us and adventures that would enrich our lives.
The wiring in our brains is amazingly adaptive. It responds on a cellular level when we consciously modify even long-standing patterns of response. In Hardwiring Happiness, Dr. Rick Hanson leads the reader through examples and step-wise instructions for using neuroplasticity to create a happier brain. I turn to it often, and encourage you to check it out as well.
