Best Article of 2009 : “How Your Nervous System Sabotages Your Ability to Relate”

After a handful of mighty powerful sessions with the brilliant Deepesh Faucheux, he thought I might glean some value from this article. And boy, did I ever.

I know, who has time to read another article? Particularly when the first sentence contains a spelling error. But – trust me on this – the content is some of the most impactful stuff out there. Especially if you’re a mammal. Most especially if you’re a human. And extra especially, cherries galore, if you are one of those humans who is sometimes challenged in the art of communicating and relating with others.

I won’t go into details about the content. Stephen Porges is far more erudite, and economical, than I can ever hope to be. But I will say this:

I now understand why, at the age of seven, my parents frequently reached a point of exasperation/confundity when trying to communicate with me (“What? You didn’t hear what I just said…again? Are your ears clogged? Seriously. Let me go get a Q-tip.”), ultimately taking me to the hospital to have my ears checked. And, why the results showed that my hearing was exceptional – in a dimly lit, oh-so-quiet room.

I now understand why, throughout my childhood and adolescence, I would grow tired and despondent, headachy and footachy, whenever we’d hit the mall scene.

I now understand why, at virtually any party/gathering of more than a few people, I reach a point where I need to step out, look up at the sky, breathe…breathe…breathe.

I now understand why, when posting a comment on someone’s blog, or writing a snippet on Twitter or Facebook, I often get all tangly, and take an exceedingly long time before I type/delete/re-type/submit.

I now understand why, when at a music performance where dancing is the thing to do, I stand petrified, but given an hour or two, I’m relaxed enough to start swaying to the rhythms, and by hour five, I’m a full-on shiva-in-a-dance-of-bliss.

It goes on. And on. Reading this article was one of those “awareness is the first step” moments. There’s also something about it not being (entirely) subject to my will, as our physiological/neurological blips and bleeps “tetra-arise” alongside our individual thoughts/feelings, our culture/shared meaning, our society/external systems. The relief is huge. It gives me space to find my ground. To stop fighting the symptoms. To stop running from my fear.

(Different mini-sketch created for each day/post. Click for larger view.)

What is this? Read more about the Best of 2009.