In all of my blogs so far, I have been emphasizing the right
hemisphere’s role in religious ideation, poetry, anomalous experiences, mental
and developmental disorders and, especially, creativity. I think it is
important at this point to make a caveat, which Iain McGilchrist, former Oxford literary scholar, now a doctor, psychiatrist and writer, stated so well in the introductory remarks to his exhaustive study of left and right-hemispheric differences:
". . . only 5 per
cent of the population overall . . . are known not to lateralise for speech in
the left hemisphere. Of these, some might have a simple inversion of the
hemispheres, with everything that normally happens in the right hemisphere
happening in the left, and vice versa; there is little significance in this,
from the point of view of the book, except that throughout one would have to
read 'right' for 'left', and 'left' for 'right'. It is only the third group,
who it has been posited, may be truly different in their cerebral
lateralisation: a subset of left-handers, as well as some people with other
conditions, irrespective of handedness, such as, probably, schizophrenia and
dyslexia, and possibly conditions such as schizotypy, some forms of autism,
Asperger's syndrome and some 'savant' conditions, who may have a partial inversion of the standard
pattern, leading to brain functions being lateralised in unconventional
combinations. For them the normal partitioning of functions break down. This
may confer special benefits, or lead to disadvantages, in the carrying out of
different activities (McGilchrist, 2009, p. 12)."
So,
yes, my interest lies in people with atypical lateralization, i.e.
McGilchrist's "third group": those born with more symmetrical hemispheres,
making the right more dominant than normal or those with unusual combinations
of functions within a single hemisphere that should be constrained to only one.
It is this small, but highly significant 5%, with their pronounced link to
certain types of creativity, which is indeed my home base.
McGilchrist
further delineates why these genetic variations, potentially dangerous for an
individual mind or for procreation, might continue to be passed on genetically
in the general population:
This may be the
link between cerebral lateralisation and creativity, and it may account for the
otherwise difficult to explain fact of the relatively constant conservation,
throughout the world, of genes which, at least partly through their effects on
lateralisation, result in major mental illnesses, such as schizophrenia and
manic-depressive psychosis (now known as bipolar disorder), and developmental
disorders, such as autism and Asperger's syndrome. It may also be associated
with homosexuality, which is thought to involve a higher than usual incidence
of abnormal lateralisation. Such genes may, particularly in the case of mental
illness, be highly detrimental to individuals, and have an impact on fertility
for the population at large – and would therefore have been bred out long ago,
if it were not for some hugely important benefit that they must convey. If they
also, through their effects on lateralisation, in some cases led to
extraordinary talents, and if particularly they did so in relatives, who have
some but not all of the genes responsible, then such genes would naturally be
preserved, on purely Darwinian principles (Ibid., p. 13).
So,
what I am saying, based on new research emerging in this fascinating field of
atypical lateralization, is that while right- or some form of mixed-hemispheric
functional lateralization for language can be detrimental to your health
(mixed, more than extreme right), it can also push you to found a new religion,
be a leader, write epic poetry, have a phenomenal photographic memory, artistic
or musical talents; it can also make you believe in ghosts and spirits and have
mediumistic powers of telepathy and prophecy. The atypical lateralization model
helps explain so many of the unusual happenings in our species' past and helps
us go forward into the future, with an understanding heart and an open mind,
plus more appreciation for diverse brains and their potential for creativity.
All
of the poets I study fit into the 5% by virtue of their genes and their
traumatic experiences, which gave them their affinity to the occult, their
actual paranormal experiences, their emotional disorders, and/or gay
orientation. Like in the development of religions, which relied on the previous
stories of their predecessors, so will the poets depend on theirs, while upping
the ante with their own novelty in an effort to supplant them.
Previc
(2006) makes an impressive argument for a neurochemical predisposition that
links profound religious experience to the left
hemisphere. But he does not mention poetry, so often intertwined with religious
expression, which is right-hemispheric language (see Jaynes, 1976; Kane, 2004).
Rather, he focuses on the difference between left-hemispheric visionary or auditory experience
in extracorporeal (outside of the body) space vs. peripersonal (near the body) experiences mediated by the right hemisphere. The neurochemicals involved are respectively
dopamine and acetylcholine on the left and noradrenalin and serotonin on the
right. (In more ways than one, the left-hemisphere and
the right can almost be said to house the male vs. the female inside
us, making the Tao and Jungian psychology almost palpable.)
In contrast to Previc, I am writing about poetic geniuses who were highly verbally fluent
and prone to right-hemispheric language and the occult through genetic
predisposition and traumatic experiences (Platt, 2007). Except for Sylvia Plath, who did suffer from mania, especially in her final weeks, they did not suffer from the disorders Previc identified with excessive religiosity and the left hemisphere: mania, obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), schizophrenia
and temporal-lobe epilepsy (TLE). Rather than gazing upward in a dopamine-mediated ecstatic vision of a mystic, my poets sat at their séances, stretching out
their hands and lower their eyes toward their Ouija boards or tables.
Connecting with a partner or other séance sitters, they disengaged the controlling prefrontal cortex, synchronized their hemispheres within themselves
and with their partners, and waited for the dead or divine "spirits" to spell out
their dissociative messages (Platt, 2009).
The
same disengagement occurs in dreaming, allowing all sorts of unchecked
creativity to occur, which definitely seems to be coming from "other" than the
self. A recent article in Scientific American Mind says that:
Well over half of visual artists said
that they had used dreams in their work. About half of fiction writers had. The
numbers dropped off rapidly as the professions became more abstract. Within the
sciences, inventors, engineers and others who benefit from visualizing problems
in three dimensions were likelier to report helpful dreams. . . . Solutions frequently came from a dream
character—one computer programmer got repeated nocturnal lessons from Albert Einstein—and
people had trouble taking full credit for what their dreaming mind had done (Barrett, 2011, p. 32).
On
the other hand, in lucid dreaming, the frontal cortex remains active as though
awake. In fact, in this unusual dream state you are both awake and asleep at
the same time, making it possible to consciously summon wise dream characters
to provide instruction (Voss, 2011). In a previous post, "Hearing the Voice, Getting it Right," my guru, a madman on a psychiatrist's couch, came unheralded,
stoked in the fire of a highly emotional reading before I went to bed. I don't
know if anyone has studied this, but perhaps the atypically lateralized are
more likely to be able to dream lucidly. (I have had a few lucid dreams myself;
my sister, Janice, bathed in the same gene pool, is an expert lucid dreamer, as is her
husband, and they have written a book together, The Conscious Exploration of Dreaming.)
Shamans receive wisdom from discarnate sources as well. They also have genetic atypical lateralization, along with a traumatic initiation into
their profession. Their methods involve plants with psychotropic properties to
attain altered states of consciousness with speaking entities. Their special
powers of mind, which, from the evidence, seem to include great intuition,
telepathy and prophecy, allow them to lead ritualistic ceremonies, bringing
groups of initiates together. They may be wounded healers, but they are
certainly not psychotic. EEG studies have shown synchronizing patterns in their
frontal cortex. They may not be writers either, but they can be magnificent
artists of their own visionary experiences and "may have been humanity’s first
physicians, magicians, artists, storytellers, timekeepers and weather
forecasters" (Kaplan, 2006, p. 1, citing Krippner 2002.) For a beautifully written, first-hand account of the Ayahuasca experience, read The Shaman and Ayahuasca; for an extremely thorough, thought-provoking look from a biological, psychological and social perspective read Michael Winkelman's book cited below.
Unfortunately,
comprehensive studies on atypical right-hemisphere language dominant subjects
are few and far between. Almost any time you start reading an abstract from a
neuroimaging study, it starts: "Fifty right-handed subjects were tested . . ."
Say no more. Nonetheless, I believe interest in anomalous minds is beginning to
manifest. Simon McCrea’s work on "intuition, insight and the right hemisphere"
is an example. He says that intuition is immediate and
nonverbal, whereas insight requires voracious study, incubation, the "aha"
moment, then conscious elaboration. Both are advantaged in right-hemisphere
dominant individuals and women seem to be better at it. Being a left-handed,
right-dominant female (judging by my anomalous experiences, my strengths and
weaknesses and the way I hold a writing instrument), I offered up my brain
to a local, highly regarded neuroscientist for imaging. I'd like to make a
direct contribution to the field beyond my armchair analyses. Unfortunately,
that email went unanswered.
Barrett, Deirdre, (2011), "Answers in your Dreams," Scientific American Mind, Nov-Dec: 27-33.
Brooks, Janice E. & Jay A.
Vogelsang 1999/2000), The Conscious Exploration of Dreaming:
Discovering How We Create and Control Our Dreams. Foreword J. Allan Hobson,
M.D.
Campos, Don José, Ed. Geraldine Overton, (2011), The Shaman and Ayahuasca. Studio City, CA: Divine Arts.
Jaynes, Julian (1976), The Origin
of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind. Boston:
Houghton Mifflin Company.
Kane, Julie (2004), "Poetry as
Right-Hemispheric Language." Journal of Consciousness Studies,
11 (5-6): 21-59.
Kaplan, Robert M. (2006), "The Neuropsychiatry of Shamanism." Before Farming, 4 (13): 1-14.
Krippner, Stanley (2002), "Conflicting perspectives on shamans and shamanism: Points and counterpoints." American Psychologist, 57 (11): 962-978.
McCrea, Simon M. (2010), "Intuition, insight, and the right hemisphere: Emergence of higher sociocognitive functions." Psychology Research and Behavior Management, 3: 1-39.
McGilchrist, Iain (2009), The Master and his Emissary: The Divided Mind and the Making of theWestern World. New Haven and London: Yale UP.
Platt, Carole Brooks (2007),
"Presence, Poetry, and the Collaborative Right Hemisphere." Journal
of Consciousness Studies, 14 (3): 36-53.
Platt, Carole Brooks (2009), "The Medium and the Matrix: Unconscious Information and the Therapeutic Dyad." Journal of Consciousness Studies, 16 (9): 55-76.
Previc, Fred H. (2006), "The role of extrapersonal brain system in religious activity." Consciousness and Cognition, 15: 500-539.
Voss, Ursula (2011), "Unlocking the Lucid Dream," Scientific American Mind, Nov-Dec: 33-35.
Winkelman, Michael (2010), Shamanism: A Biopsychosocial Paradigm of Consciousness and Healing, 2nd Ed. Santa Barbara, CA, Denver, CO, Oxford, England: Praeger.
