When I spoke of “feelings…” driving the bus, I meant the feelings associated with procedural memory and the sub/unconscious. Yes, we can be aware of our feelings and do mindful, cognitive things to mitigate, amplify, or change them, can’t we? Yes. You and I both know that’s true. However, remember: your clever brains are there to not only teach us, but protect us.
Part of protecting us is explaining to us why we feel the way we do so that it makes sense. We are very invested in how we feel making sense, and…. what? Ah, yes…control. We want very much to believe we have control. The problem? Most of the time, we don’t know why we feel the way we do, and control is an illusion.
Oh, sometimes it’s simple. I know that I am hurting today, missing my dear friend. My feelings of grief are easy to understand. Ah — but there is more going on than a simply the equation of loss+friend=sad. No, joining my feelings of loss are the echoes of the loss of my parents, the deep, unspoken fear I have of losing my husband, (empathy for my friend, who has lost hers)and all of the unknown, unaccounted-for feelings in my subconscious — and procedural memory.
You may know what procedural memory is, but for those who don’t, a simple explanation: procedural memories are memories to which we do not have conscious access, but our emotions are tied inextricably to the memory, and when something in present-time triggers the “unremembered” memory, our instincts, feelings,(and often) actions, kick in.
Procedural memory is the polar opposite of explicit memory, where we can recall every detail, visually, auditorily, and even with other senses — however, we recall it THROUGH THE LENS of the person we are at the moment we recall it. This is not the case with procedural memory: procedural memory contains the exact emotion you had, at the exact age you had the experience, in the exact way. They are, quite literally, emotions attached to an event that are unprocessed by maturity, knowledge, or any insight you’ve gained as you’ve aged.
What is complex about the illusion of control is this: our conscious mind immediately provides justification, reasons, and logic to our present-day emotions, so much of the time, when we react, we think we know why we react as we do. What’s extremely complex? When our emotional and actual response is disproportionate to the present-time event. In those cases, our minds work over-time to explain, justify and then it combs through our subconscious and accessible memory to answer the questions: why did I do that? Why do I feel this way?
So while I agree we have a modicum of control as to how we respond to events, and even over how we feel about things, to an extent…it’s not so simple.
Example: during a disagreement with my husband early-on in our marriage, he said something and I rolled my eyes. I didn’t roll them out of disrespect for what he’d said, or for him; I’d rolled them because I knew he had totally misunderstood something I’d said or done, and the eye roll was me, realizing my blunder.
He got upset with me — and he is a very calm, gentle man — but he raised his voice, only slightly, and said “Don’t you roll your eyes at me!”
Suddenly, I was wracked with anger, rage, fear…I started shaking. I was fully aware of my emotions, and my brain began its work: who does he think he is? he’s misunderstanding me yet again! how dare he take that tone with me! I am not a child! Who the F*CK does he think he is?!
I grabbed my pillow, ran upstairs to the guest bedroom, and locked myself in. Now, keep in mind, during all of this, I was trying to calm myself, trying to see his side, and yet…hidden in my procedural memory (remember, you don’t KNOW what’s in there until your mind allows you to know ) was the cause of my actions, emotions, an d reaction to his words.
As I sat on the bed upstairs, fuming, a fiery ball of anger in my chest, I heard him coming up the stairs and I ran to the bedroom door and made sure it was was locked. I was suddenly stunned: I was frightened of my husband! How is that possible? He has never hurt me in any way, on purpose, in our entire marriage.
Then, my procedural memory gave way to an explicit memory — it became an explicit memory, like a drop of liquid ink from a quill pen plopped onto white paper, the memory began to spread, turning from the blackest black to shade of gray at the edges, the ink spreading, getting bigger, bigger, wider….
As a child, I started rolling my eyes at my parents when they scolded me early. It was sort of a trademark: there is even a photo of me, age 4 or so, doing it. Of course I remember that — it was family legend, joke, and my trademark.
What I did NOT remember: my father when I’d first done it at 4. When I rolled my eyes the first time, he whacked me across the face, saying, “Don’t you roll your eyes at me!” Unlike other children, when reproached with not only anger, displeasure and physical violence by a parent, I defiantly rolled them again. He hit me again. I rolled again. On it went. He would not break me. I refused to cry. My cheek was swollen about twice its normal size before my mother came upstairs, saw us, and put a stop to it.
I had no memory of the incident until that evening, when my husband used those words. I am not afraid of my husband at all. Ah, but as the youngest of 6, we were all afraid of my father.
The point? For all of my “control” and “awareness” of how I felt in that moment, there were multiple layers of reactions driving that bus.
The mistake people make, Linda, is they truly believe they have much more control than they actually do. Our minds help us believe that. Even when our response is totally appropriate to the circumstance, we have memories, all recorded, unavailable to us, that inform your feelings and responses, no matter how “conscious” we believe ourselves to be.
The only way to truly “drive the bus” with our conscious minds is to realize that we are NOT driving the bus. Accepting that we don’t know what we don’t know.
In the case of abuse, for example, children are unable to emotionally process violence and abuse. So the event is stored, procedurally; forever seen through the eyes of whatever age the child was at the time of the event. We have no control as to when our minds will allow us to remember. Sometimes when its ready, and sometimes, during an event that “triggers” (I loathe that word, btw) the past event.
And what would a defiant, angry, rebellious child of 4 do if she had the power and ability to avoid having her face whacked, over and over? After the first strike, she would stomp out of that room, get the hell out, to a place far away, locking the offending hand — and her father with it — out, safe and sound, in a bedroom, far away.
Paying close attention to our gut reactions and responses, no matter what they are, and then holding them up to the cold light of our conscious mind, and above all, our intentions and what it is we want to accomplish, that’s the best, or one of the best, ways to gain insight and use wisdom to temper our behavior. But do not make the error of thinking you are driving the bus. That’s your brain telling you that “you” have control. As difficult as it is to admit, we control very little. Difficult, and frightening.
Your thoughts on how to control what we CAN control are excellent and I believe they can open a doorway to allow our minds to give us access to more and more of the shadowy mysteries of our procedural memories.
You say you’ve “died” 3 times? Clinically? I can only imagine the wonders your mind showed you as you hovered between this world and the unknown “hereafter” or “void,” whatever you believe is the “after.”
Forgive my long treatise and thank you, Linda. You are always so gracious and informed. I do so enjoy our talks. — Peace to you
