The Pain of Connecting

Weaving Wisdom Paths From The Five Books of Moses, Our Emotional Brain and Our Lives.

In Search of Wisdom: The Pain of Connecting

We’re connected with others and sometimes that hurts. Is some pain avoidable? How?

Wisdom from the Five Books of Moses:

These were the marches of the Israelites . . . Numbers 33:1

Towns that you assign to the Levites shall comprise the six cities of refuge . . . 35:6

Wisdom from Interpersonal Neurobiology (INPB):

. . . true empathy requires three distinct skills: the ability to share the other person’s feelings, the cognitive ability to intuit what another person is feeling, and a “socially beneficial” intention to respond compassionately to that person’s distress. in The Social Neuroscience of Empathy, p. 21.

“. . . the young woman started to slip.  [A man] reached for her and [he] fell in.  Then another one tried to help and [he] falls in the water.  We literally watched them get swept over the edge of Vernal Falls”1 Horrified, this eye witness saw first one person slipping into the water followed by the two others who reached to help.  Three people died.  Sometimes the pain of connection is unavoidable. This week’s news continued with the carnage in Norway. One perpetrator reached out with a bomb and automatic weapons.  91 people died. The pain of disconnection is avoidable.  Can the wisdom drawn from the Five Books of Moses and Interpersonal Neurobiology help us understand these pains so we can prevent future tragedies?

These were the marches of the Israelites. Why did the Five Books spend so much time listing the stops and starts of the Israelites’ 40-year trek? To answer this, we must understand the importance of linking, between places as well as among people, on that ancient journey and today.  In all its dryness, this listing emphasized that no part of the Israelites’ journey stood alone, but rather that all were woven into a single extraordinary experience. Across time and space the list concentrates our attention on the invisible linking experienced when we are with another human being.  “People seem to be capable of mimicking others’ facial, vocal, and postural expressions with stunning rapidity.  As a consequence, they are able to feel themselves into those other emotional lives to a surprising extent.”2 We live linked by an invisible yet powerful web of connection, invisible because it operates mostly below our conscious awareness and powerful because it affects our actions.  Interpersonal Neurobiology describes the three abilities that enable our brains to experience empathy and connection and help us unlock the lessons of the Vernal Falls and Norway tragedies.

Two incidents at Vernal Falls illustrate different abilities of our empathetic brain.  As the young woman slipped into the water, the first man reached out to help her only to slip in himself.  The next man also reached out to help and fell in.  No time for cognitive deliberation, each person saw another in danger and acted. Our brain’s gift for automatically sharing other person’s feelings unfortunately increased that death toll from one to three.

Only moments before in the other incident, “. . . A man cross[ed] the barricade.  He was leaning over the 317-foot waterfall, holding a young girl, who was screaming in terror.  People begged them to get back. “I’m yelling at him, ‘You SOB, get over here!’” [another man] said.  Eventually, the two returned to safety.”3 Using the brain’s second ability, the onlookers cognitively intuited the girl’s state of mind and her terror. Seeing that girl in danger got them shouting at the idiot who stupidly endangered her.  Neutrality is not an option.

But even idiots sometimes deserve some consideration, as the Five Books illustrates. Towns that you assign to the Levites shall comprise the six cities of refuge that you are to designate for a manslayer to flee to. In Biblical times, if a person had unintentionally or inadvertently killed someone, he could seek safety from the avenging relative in a city of refuge. Any of us can  make mistakes.  The cities of refuge and this second Vernal Falls incident both demonstrate our brain’s third empathetic ability: responding compassionately towards a socially beneficial intention.  In this case, shouting brought them both back from the brink.  But what happens when our tendency toward empathy and connection fails?

Anders Breivik, the accused shooter in the Norway tragedy, demonstrates disconnection.  Intentionally killing fellow humans presumes severely limited empathic abilities plus a distortion of the cognitive “socially beneficial” intention.  Terrorists, both homegrown and foreign, often leave lengthy manifestos proclaiming a belief system in which their behaviors make sense (at least to them). Lacking empathetic skills, the brain’s left hemisphere can dominate a person’s processing and create a bubble of long-winded logic that justifies harming others.5 This is the price of a disconnected brain.

In the Five Books and at Vernal Falls, we witness our human propensity to reach out to others.  Our marvelous social brain is capable of sharing feelings, of intuiting another’s state of mind, and reaching toward a socially beneficial goal, in other words, empathy.  When supported by our upbringing and fostered by our culture, we react empathetically without thinking about it. Yet as we have seen, even empathy can trigger unavoidable tragedies.

On the other hand, some types of upbringing and certain sub-cultures can subvert these empathic tendencies and trigger unnecessary tragedies.  To lessen these darker forces requires that we personally commit to strengthening empathetic connection actions.  On the larger scale, supporting organizations and leaders who emphasize empathetic responses to human suffering enhances connection.  Personally, we can help those within our family and local community who face more subtle challenges of personal or economic stresses.  Practically, every time we get behind the wheel of our car, we can enhance our brain’s empathy.  Extending courtesy to the other drivers, letting them in, and avoiding anger at their bad moves, supports our understanding that we journey from here to there together.  These actions wisely strengthen our invisible connections and limit the price we pay for disconnection.

 

Practicing Wisdom in our Lives:

When do you feel connected and empathetic?  When have you been in need of empathy? What price have you paid for empathy?  Have you experienced too much empathy as well as too little?

Who is your empathy ‘hero’?  Name the qualities you admire in them.  Do something each day to strengthen the same qualities in you!

  1. nbcbayarea.com/news/local/Hiker-Swept-Over-Vernal-Falls-Report-125848553.html?rr=td
  2. Hatfield, Elaine, et. Al, “Emotional Contagion and Empathy” in Decety, Jean, and Ickes, William, eds. The Social Neuroscience of Empathy, 2009, p. 21.
  3. Ibid., p. 26.
  4. LA Times, 7/21/11, p. A 11.
  5. McGilchrist, Iain, The Master and his Emissary, 2009, p. 137 and Ch. 4 & 6.

Quotes from the Five Books of Moses are from Etz Hayim, 1999.

 

 

 

Distinction, Conflict and Community

Weaving Wisdom Path From The Five Books of Moses, Our Emotional Brain and Our Lives.

In Search of Wisdom: Distinction, Conflict and Community

Hearing people speak as if the person on the other side of an argument was their enemy concerns me.  Is there no other way to handle conflict?

Wisdom from the Five Books of Moses:

If a woman makes a vow to the Lord . . . and her father [or husband] learns of her vow . . . and offers no objection, all her vows shall stand . . . Numbers 30:4-5

Now, slay every male among the children . . . 31:17

“It would be a favor to us,” [the Gadites and Reubenites] continued, “if this land were given to [us] as a holding; do not move us across the Jordan.” 32:5

Wisdom from Interpersonal Neurobiology (INPB):

Emerging neurobiological evidence shows that our earliest experiences around safety and security are archived in implicit regions of the brain and generate a kind of somatic “knowing” that is different from thinking. Solomon, Marion and Tatkin, Stan, Love and War in Intimate Relationships, 2011, p. 43.

We make distinctions to live.  This person is OK.  Those people are dangerous.  Some distinctions are necessary, some useful, but many are downright dangerous.  At the same time the Israelites dealt a deathblow to their Midianites neighbors who they labeled as enemy, we witness two other distinctions made within their camp.  Understanding these different distinctions and how our brain manages them will help us live wisely in our diverse but interconnected world.

After labeling the Midianites as dangerous, the Israelites conquered them, destroyed their cities and killed all the men and most of the captured women and children.  Was this an atrocity or a regrettable necessity?  During this same time, the Israelites distinguished between the vows of men and women and negotiated a special land deal for two tribes in contrast to the remaining ten. It seems that labeling people within our group or without changes how we act.  Outsiders are easily destroyed, while within, compromise is the overall rule, even though some differentiation carried a social sting.  Separating inside from outside our community has been useful for a good stretch of U. S. history.  A mere twenty or so years ago, we divided the world into the democratic good guys fighting the communist evil empire; while several decades earlier, the fighters for freedom defeated (but rebuilt) the Axis powers.  Before that, the Blue coated Northerners defeated the Southerners in Grey, as colonial Patriots had done to the Red Coats.  Oops, both those last two distinctions started as conflicts within the community.  Today, we label states red or blue, and slam the other guys with sound bites that paint them as bad or evil (you choose Tea Party or Radicals, Right or Left).  But what worked from ancient times until recently is rendered unworkable by our interconnected, interdependent global technology and economy.  Is it wise to be using ancient distinctions to guide our modern world and weapons?

Consider for a moment how blurry the inside/outside distinction has become. Where was your computer made and what accent do you hear when you call for tech support?  Who owns the stores you shop in?  Who serves your food or clears the table?  Who drills for, owns, operates, and supplies the gas we use as we drive our cars, most of which involve multi-national technology?  As our economy becomes more technologically global, wisdom from the Five Books of Moses and Interpersonal Neurobiology can help us reevaluate distinctions.

Now, slay every male among the children. What can we possibly learn from this almost genocidal behavior? Our first bit of wisdom is that the Midianites were outsiders, but not strangers. Actually intimate others living next door, they were a people whose gods (and sexual rites) were tempting to the Israelite men.  Labeled outsiders by the Israelites, as we did to Japs*, Commie Pinkos* or terrorists, the Midianite danger was fueled by desire and vulnerability inside the Israelite community.  And we are all vulnerable.

The second learning is that we generate internal working models and response patterns of safety or danger through our earliest experiences with our parents and caretakers.  “Before we “know” what has happened, autonomic arousal processes have readied us for action and reaction.”1 Before our conscious mind gets a clue, our early intimacy patterns impose distinctions of safe or dangerous upon our adult world.  This vulnerability, whether others are intimate or distant, is often only noticeable through our actions, no matter what we are thinking.  So it was for the Israelites. The emotional soup in which these second-generation escapees grew up was liberally seasoned with the fear and chaos of their parents’ slave and escape experiences. The same is true for most second-generation immigrants or survivors of the Holocaust or other human or natural disasters.  We seek to soothe those fears and manage the accompanying vulnerabilities, often gravitating towards others with similar patterns and pains.  Our desires, discomforts and search for relief empower their seductiveness.  Fears embedded in our early neural patterns can exaggerate the danger we see in those outside the community.  But what is different when distinctions are inside the community?

If a woman makes a vow to the Lord . . . and her father [or husband] learns of her vow . . . and offers no objection, all her vows shall stand.  Beyond the social sting of that paternalistic culture where fathers and husbands decided for the household, their daughters and wives included, this distinction between a man’s and a woman’s vows can be understood in the interest of familial and societal harmony.  Consider that the man has made a deal with the neighboring farmer only to find out that his wife has vowed never to speak or deal with those neighbors again.  The family’s interest overrode the woman’s and the husband could nullify her vow, without bringing guilt upon her.  But there were limits to his power.  If he didn’t act immediately upon hearing it, her vow stood.  Our ancestors believed that a vow to the Lord was sacred, not to be made, or overturned, lightly.   Within the household, the partners were able to regulate and limit each other’s commitments for the good of the partnership.  The same is true for us, and it enhances familial and emotionally connectivity.  “The success, security, and stability of a partnership hinges on the partners’ capacity to regulate various internal bodily, emotional, and mental states in real time, separately and together.”2 Since mutual, beneficial connection is the goal within the family and community, we must wrestle with our earliest patterns, lest those automatic distinctions undermine beneficial community connections.

“It would be a favor to us,” [the Gadites and Reubenites] continued, “if this land were given to [us] as a holding; do not move us across the Jordan.” Similar regulation was applied among the tribes when the Reubenites and Gadites wanted to stay back and occupy the conquered lands. At first their request angered Moses but negotiations quickly achieved a compromise.  After building towns to protect their families, the Reubenite and Gadite warriors would spearhead the charge across the Jordan.  They then would stay and fight until the Promised Land was conquered.  Only then would they return back across the Jordan to their wives, children and animals.  Negotiation and compromise worked as each side held back on its need to defeat the other.  Rather each acknowledged the merit within the other’s desires and developed an agreement that brought each side some of what they wanted.

In our interconnected world, we court disaster when our earliest fear based responses automatically run our family or political lives.  In the interest of family, community, national and global survival, we would be wise to identify what others want of us and, within reason, deliver some to them.  With very few exceptions, we can assume that people both inside and outside our specific community share this planet with us and possess brains filled desires, vulnerabilities, and frustrations.  When we focus on distinctions and differences, we generate fear in ourselves toward them. Fear forces disconnection. When instead we focus on connections among us, we invest in our personal, community and global survival!

* The use of the derogatory ‘Japs’ instead of Japanese and ‘Commie Pinko’, etc., is an intentional example of how many derogatory labels easily inhabit our culture and consciousness.

Practicing Wisdom in our Lives:

Who do you label as inside and outside your community?  How does that change what you experience in your body?

When you experience fear in your body, take three deep breaths with a longer exhale than inhale.  Or vibrate your lips as you exhale like a baby does.  This helps calm fear.


  1. Solomon, Marion and Tatkin, Stan, Love and War in Intimate Relationships, 2011, p. 43.
  2. Ibid., p. 44.

Quotes from the Five Books of Moses are from Etz Hayim, 1999.