The following is from a book I am working on about bipolar recovery. Enjoy ...
We can make a strong case that the consolidation of our language-processing into regions of the left hemisphere of the brain some hundred thousand years ago proved to be the evolutionary game-changer that took us to the top of the food chain. With words, we can not only imagine a different reality, we can create what we imagine. Is God real, then? Or is God merely a word? Questions like this were the stock-in-trade of the twentieth-century philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein. The answers actually don’t matter. What counts is our singular capacity to simply ask these questions.
Our words are also what bind us to each other, allow us to thrive (or at least survive) in social networks of infinite complexity. Other animals may communicate amongst themselves, but we’re the only ones with the ability to tell stories by the campfire.
To fully appreciate the gift of language, contemplate for a moment the lives of those who labor under major language deficits and the conditions they contend with: Schizophrenia (where speech may become unintelligible), stroke and brain trauma (where key language functions may be taken off-line), Alzheimer’s (where losing one’s words is a dead give-away). The isolation of madness, confusion, dementia - who wants to live life under those conditions? Tragically, but understandably, many choose not to.
But even only slight difficulties can throw us off, and the consequences can be enormous. In our case, we are likely to perceive reality a bit differently than the chronically normal, leading us to see, say, 28 when others see four. This imposes a huge burden on us to make ourselves understood. It’s not good enough that we be merely articulate. We have to perform even better, and do it standing on one foot in a high wind with our eyes closed.
Actually, particularly in bad conditions. When our environment turns on us, language is our best defense. We need to rise to the occasion. Heaven help, when we feel events moving entirely too fast for us and we panic or freeze or when we feel so sluggish that even Vanna can’t find the right vowels for us. Inevitably, there comes a time when our words fail us. Try to recall the last time that happened to you and how totally alone you felt.
The good news is that we don’t have to remove the front panel to our cranium and change out frontal lobes. We can improve our language skills the good old fashioned way - by reading. Not light reading, or what you are used to reading. A good many of us have not cracked open a serious book since college or high school, and that needs to change.
Let’s start with the book in your hands (this will be part of a book soon enough). If you’re struggling with it, congratulations on getting this far. Please keep at it. By all means, when you're done, go back to your light reading, but do make it a point to schedule another work-out with books on this reading level.
Off the top of my head: God: a Biography by Karen Armstrong, and Genghis Khan and the Making of the Modern World by Jack Weatherford. Also, Google Bill Gates’ annual reading lists. The guy is smart for a reason.
If you feel comfortable reading this book, great, go out and buy more of my stuff (just kidding). But once you’re done here, it’s time to start increasing your resistance training. Maybe you’re doing this already. Otherwise, my recommendation is to start with Walter Issacson’s Einstein: His Life and Universe. The author is a former editor of Time magazine (indeed, it was during his watch that in 1999 Time cited Einstein as its Person of the Century), and thus anything he writes is eminently readable. The challenge is the subject matter - chapters on the special and general theories of relativity can’t exactly be skimmed. Take your time, then have a dialog with yourself, explaining relativity - in your own words. Congratulations - Einstein! - you’re on you’re way.
The point, here, is that as you begin to immerse yourself in other people’s words, their words begin to become your words. You have more of them and new ways of using them. This, in turn, is going to improve your cognitive and social skills, and make getting through the day a bit less challenging. It’s sort of like experimenting with new recipes. You may attempt Julia Child’s beef beef bourguignon only once, but next time you cut up some meat and toss it into a crock pot, you may decide to add red wine and pearl onions.
Your next step is to use your words in real time. This means having conversations. If you’re dealing with social anxiety or laboring under depression or facing similar challenges, you have your work cut out for you. Ideally, you want to be around smart people who challenge your thinking (but in a safe environment). Personal example: Back when I was regularly attending psychiatric conferences, I approached a researcher standing before a poster of a medications study he was involved in. “Uh, what about the two trials where those drugs failed?” I asked. “No,” he replied. “It was the trials that failed.”
I didn’t necessarily agree with his answer, but I did accept his implied challenge to lift my game. My words needed to be more precise. If you don’t feel you’re ready for this level of engagement (it took me two years after I started writing on mental illness to summon up the courage to address researchers face-to-face), I suggest a target far less intimidating, say, someone walking their dog. Dog owners, for reasons unbeknownst to me, love being interrupted to talk about their little best friend. Once you ask, “What kind of dog is that?” you won’t be able to get them to shut up. This may seem a modest exercise, but if you’re new to this, then hats off to you - you’ve taken your number one cognitive weapon out of its sheath and given it a swipe. Engaging in rapid parry-and-thrust with Steven Colbert can wait another day.
Incidentally, if you’re looking to strengthen neural connections, I can think of few faster ways than by engaging in challenging conversation. Like learning a difficult musical passage or memorizing the streets of London, the brain will accommodate by laying down new roadwork. Literally, with words you can build a better brain.
John McManamy is the author of Living Well with Depression and Bipolar Disorder and is the publisher of the Bipolar Expert Series, available on Amazon.
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