Think like the animals
Our brains evolved not to reason and ask why but to do or die. Unbeknownst to us, our brains perpetually scan the environment for danger. A car crosses the double yellow line on 518, for instance. It’s headed directly at your vehicle, and you immediately react to avoid collision by steering out of the way. Now, imagine you use your logical, linear, rational brain: Here comes a car, crossing the double yellow line. Its approximate speed is 55 mph. I believe it’s approaching at about a 45-degree angle, and I would estimate the time of impact…
Guess what. There is no time for rational thought. That car is no different to today’s brain than the striped, fanged yellow movement in the bushes was to our ancestors’ brains. If your ancestors had not reacted to avoid harm — well, you would not be here to read this.
This is part of our evolutionary adaption (life on the planet started roughly 3.5 billion years ago; mammalian ancestry about 680 million years ago): these adaptions are inscribed in our DNA. Today, we take threats to our sense of well-being to a level of abstraction beyond anything our ancestors would have been capable of or even imagined. Our supervisor at work frowns at us, and we have job instability; interest rates rise, and our credit-card debt will spike; our payments increase, and we worry about our general financial well-being.
Science calls this our negativity bias.
Donald Trump is elected president and a large portion of the developed world becomes anxious, stressed, and out of balance. Stoic philosophers suggested that when this occurs, we need to return to equilibrium as quickly as possible. This is also what Mother Nature teaches us. A stalking lion leaps onto the zebra’s back. Somehow the zebra escapes with scratches and, without thought, returns to homeostasis (equilibrium). The animal’s blood pressure comes back to normal, adrenalin and cortisol levels lower, and in minutes the zebra’s back to grazing.
Humans don’t do this. Instead, we tell ourselves a story. Our narrative goes something like this: What if Zelda sees these scratches? She’ll think I’m having an affair. My God, if that lion had been successful, who would care for our children? Our neurons create feedback loops (think of a hamster in a circular treadmill) in which previous negative memories are recruited with each cycle. Because neurons that fire together wire together, we create our own highway to hell.
What can you do to get off this treadmill? Pause. Become aware that you are out of equilibrium and ask yourself: What can I do, however small, to move back to equilibrium? As philosopher, scientist, and psychologist William James said, “All life is but a mass of practical, emotional, and intellectual small choices systemically organized for our greatness or our grief.” Choose wisely.
I voted for Hillary. After witnessing the results, I realized the enormous extent to which the U.S. population is out of equilibrium. So rather than add to the blame, I am writing this as my small step back toward balance.
Chapin is a resident of Ranchos de Taos.




Thank you. I really like this quote: "Because neurons that fire together wire together, we create our own highway to hell."
We are ripe for a revival of some classic stoic values and I am very interested in working with others on social equilibrium. I know that partisanship has bred spite in my own heart and it takes effort to not let it poison relationships.
In addition to studying stoicism I also read Dr. King. His practice of nonviolence requires us to engage with our enemies, to learn their positions and to educate them about ours. Our goal is never to defeat people, but to defeat the hatred they hold. It is always easier to see the hatred in others.
I believe the only mind I can change is my own, and that I have a duty to represent the best truth I can find to help other people in their struggle to learn to change their own minds. Once I accepted this, it became much less important to win arguments than to make sure I could represent the truth as graciously as possible, but as insistently as necessary.