We Interrupt this Program
Easing the grip of self-drama
Easing the grip of self-drama
Inside everybody's brain are interconnected regions that neuroscientists call "the default mode network." According to Wikipedia, neuroscientists can see the default mode network light up when: "a person is not focused on the outside world and the brain is at wakeful rest, such as during daydreaming and mind-wandering. It is also active when the individual is thinking about others, thinking about themselves, remembering the past, and planning for the future. The network activates 'by default' when a person is not involved in a task."
In other words—when nothing engaging is happening in the present moment—the brain is liable to drop into this mode, as a default. It's easy to see how this mode would confer an adaptive advantage to an intelligent social organism. The chances of surviving long enough to find a mate and reproduce would be increased if an organism worried over its future, beat itself up for past mistakes, praised itself for past successes and mentally rehearsed schemes to motivate supporters and outsmart rivals.
Unfortunately, while all the daydreaming, fretting and scheming may bring reproductive advantage, that doesn't mean it feels good. Just the opposite: All this mental activity is likely to make an organism experience life as an unsettled never-satisfactory affair. But this is the default mode network's functional purpose: to manufacture the emotional uneasiness that keeps us constantly striving.
Everybody falls for this because the default mode network deploys a very seductive trick: it produces and broadcasts the ever-enthralling, impossible-to-ignore "iChannel." All programs on the iChannel always star the most important person there is: me. There are lots of story lines, lots of episodes, lots of ups and downs. The episodes and story lines accumulate to create the sense that I am here and all this stuff is happening to me. That keeps me on my toes.
The important thing to note is that iChannel programming creates this sense of self. The self does not exist as an independent, permanent, unchangeable essence. It is something that only emerges when we tune into iChannel broadcasting. And the iChannel is usually broadcasting unless we are engrossed in some activity (which is why people who love their jobs say they "lose themselves in their work.")
iChannel broadcasts often start innocently enough. The mind begins to wander without a care, meandering from wish, to memory, to plan. But sooner or later, the iChannel scrolls down to a distressing drama that we just can't ignore. The narrative overwhelms us and we are trapped.
It's pointless to think you can get rid of the iChannel. Any conceivable project to get rid of the iChannel is yet another iChannel program. You can't use the iChannel to get rid of the iChannel.
One could also argue that we need the iChannel, that we could not survive without it. This is true, but it is also true that pretty much everybody could get away with spending a lot less time sucked into iChannel dramas—and would feel a lot better as a result.
How to interrupt iChannel broadcasts? One option is to use a targeted type of broadcast called the "Public Service Announcement." The Public Service Announcement is also carried via the medium of thought, but it is produced with a very different intention. While iChannel programs spool out heedlessly (and often stray into negative drama), a Public Service Announcement interrupts the iChannel program to deliver thoughts that are, well, in the public service. The thoughts are intended to loosen the dramatic grip of the iChannel broadcast.
Public Service Announcements can release the grip by dispatching the following information:
They can also deliver stern warnings. Like a loving parent, they can advise: "No, do not tune into that iChannel program. It burns you every time. Leave it be." Note that this message is not critical or hectoring. It does not say: "Damnit, there I go again with the compulsive thinking. Why can't I have some discipline?" That would be another iChannel broadcast. The key difference is the intention to serve the public.
It is the public service—the good-will—that defines a Public Service Announcement and yields its benefits. The greatest benefit comes from the Public Service Announcement's closing statement. After some brief but helpful information, a Public Service Announcement signs off with these words: "We now return awareness to the present moment, already in progress."
Awareness can now tune into direct experience: of the breath; ambient sounds; pleasant or unpleasant physical sensation; the feeling of gravity rooting the body. It doesn't matter what, as long as awareness comes back to the present as gently and kindly as possible.
Public Service Announcements won't solve everything. In fact, they won't solve anything. (iChannel programs solve things.) But Public Service Announcements can sometimes ease the grip of an iChannel drama that is weighing you down. Ok, maybe not the whole drama. Maybe just the one episode that is playing right now. Release the weight of just one iChannel episode and life feels a bit lighter. Which makes you that much more enlightened.
In other words—when nothing engaging is happening in the present moment—the brain is liable to drop into this mode, as a default. It's easy to see how this mode would confer an adaptive advantage to an intelligent social organism. The chances of surviving long enough to find a mate and reproduce would be increased if an organism worried over its future, beat itself up for past mistakes, praised itself for past successes and mentally rehearsed schemes to motivate supporters and outsmart rivals.
Unfortunately, while all the daydreaming, fretting and scheming may bring reproductive advantage, that doesn't mean it feels good. Just the opposite: All this mental activity is likely to make an organism experience life as an unsettled never-satisfactory affair. But this is the default mode network's functional purpose: to manufacture the emotional uneasiness that keeps us constantly striving.
Everybody falls for this because the default mode network deploys a very seductive trick: it produces and broadcasts the ever-enthralling, impossible-to-ignore "iChannel." All programs on the iChannel always star the most important person there is: me. There are lots of story lines, lots of episodes, lots of ups and downs. The episodes and story lines accumulate to create the sense that I am here and all this stuff is happening to me. That keeps me on my toes.
The important thing to note is that iChannel programming creates this sense of self. The self does not exist as an independent, permanent, unchangeable essence. It is something that only emerges when we tune into iChannel broadcasting. And the iChannel is usually broadcasting unless we are engrossed in some activity (which is why people who love their jobs say they "lose themselves in their work.")
iChannel broadcasts often start innocently enough. The mind begins to wander without a care, meandering from wish, to memory, to plan. But sooner or later, the iChannel scrolls down to a distressing drama that we just can't ignore. The narrative overwhelms us and we are trapped.
It's pointless to think you can get rid of the iChannel. Any conceivable project to get rid of the iChannel is yet another iChannel program. You can't use the iChannel to get rid of the iChannel.
One could also argue that we need the iChannel, that we could not survive without it. This is true, but it is also true that pretty much everybody could get away with spending a lot less time sucked into iChannel dramas—and would feel a lot better as a result.
How to interrupt iChannel broadcasts? One option is to use a targeted type of broadcast called the "Public Service Announcement." The Public Service Announcement is also carried via the medium of thought, but it is produced with a very different intention. While iChannel programs spool out heedlessly (and often stray into negative drama), a Public Service Announcement interrupts the iChannel program to deliver thoughts that are, well, in the public service. The thoughts are intended to loosen the dramatic grip of the iChannel broadcast.
Public Service Announcements can release the grip by dispatching the following information:
- They can label the iChannel program being interrupted: "Recrimination." "Planning." "Speculative doubt." "Fantasy." "Concern about future." "Project proposal." "Innocuous pleasant daydream" (Might as well interrupt this too, since an iChannel left to wander will eventually surf over to a program featuring negative content.)
- They can determine if the past or future has been created. (Like the self, the sense of past and future do not exist as independent realms but emerge within an iChannel broadcast as concepts in the present moment.)
- They can identify the bodily sensations that accompany negative emotions. (Tightness in chest. Pressure between ears. Rising of shoulders. Restless tickle in throat.)
- They can reimagine negative emotions in a way that acknowledges their truth but yields something more flexible to work with. For example, they can dial back anger to annoyance and fear to concern (A less intense negative emotion leaves room for the question "What would help now?")
They can also deliver stern warnings. Like a loving parent, they can advise: "No, do not tune into that iChannel program. It burns you every time. Leave it be." Note that this message is not critical or hectoring. It does not say: "Damnit, there I go again with the compulsive thinking. Why can't I have some discipline?" That would be another iChannel broadcast. The key difference is the intention to serve the public.
It is the public service—the good-will—that defines a Public Service Announcement and yields its benefits. The greatest benefit comes from the Public Service Announcement's closing statement. After some brief but helpful information, a Public Service Announcement signs off with these words: "We now return awareness to the present moment, already in progress."
Awareness can now tune into direct experience: of the breath; ambient sounds; pleasant or unpleasant physical sensation; the feeling of gravity rooting the body. It doesn't matter what, as long as awareness comes back to the present as gently and kindly as possible.
Public Service Announcements won't solve everything. In fact, they won't solve anything. (iChannel programs solve things.) But Public Service Announcements can sometimes ease the grip of an iChannel drama that is weighing you down. Ok, maybe not the whole drama. Maybe just the one episode that is playing right now. Release the weight of just one iChannel episode and life feels a bit lighter. Which makes you that much more enlightened.