Sigmund Freud, Father of Psychoanalysis, Introduced in a Monty Python-Style Animation

Pity the hedge­hog. The freez­ing tem­per­a­tures of win­ter com­pel them to cozy up to oth­ers of its kind, but the prick­ly spines cov­er­ing their bod­ies pre­vent them from sus­tain­ing the easy, ongo­ing inti­ma­cy they so crave.

It’s a hell of a metaphor for human rela­tion­ships, com­pli­ments of 19th-cen­tu­ry philoso­pher Arthur Schopen­hauer. It cer­tain­ly spoke to Sig­mund Freud, who devot­ed his life try­ing to fig­ure out why so many of us resort to pet­ty behav­iors, spurn­ing those we love, and sab­o­tag­ing our­selves at every turn.

Pop­u­lar rep­re­sen­ta­tions would have us believe that the father of psy­cho­analy­sis was a detached sort of know-it-all, emo­tion­al­ly supe­ri­or to the bas­ket cas­es snivel­ing on his couch. Not so. As he not­ed in 1897:

I have been through some kind of neu­rot­ic expe­ri­ence, curi­ous states… twi­light thoughts, veiled doubts… The chief patient I am pre­oc­cu­pied with is myself… my lit­tle hys­te­ria… the analy­sis is more dif­fi­cult than any oth­er. Some­thing from the deep­est depths of my own neu­ro­sis sets itself against any advance in under­stand­ing neu­roses…

We feel ya’, doc, and so does The School of Life, the Lon­don-based orga­ni­za­tion for devel­op­ing emo­tion­al intel­li­gence, co-found­ed by philo­soph­i­cal essay­ist, Alain de Bot­ton:

… con­sult­ing a psy­chother­a­pist should be as acces­si­ble and as nor­mal as devel­op­ing your career, get­ting help for a phys­i­cal prob­lem, or going to the gym to get healthy. Just as we take care of our bod­ies and phys­i­cal health, a vital ele­ment of self-care is devot­ing focused time and ener­gy to explor­ing and under­stand­ing our thoughts and feel­ings.

The school puts your mon­ey where its mouth is by retain­ing a ros­ter of licensed psy­chother­a­pists who can be booked for in-per­son or Skype ses­sions.

It’s not for every­one. There are those who are deter­mined to pur­sue the path to con­tent­ment and self-knowl­edge solo, imper­vi­ous to Freud’s belief that “No one who dis­dains the key will ever be able to unlock the door.”

The ther­a­py-averse can still learn some­thing from the video above. Nar­ra­tor de Bot­ton charms his way through an eas­i­ly digest­ed overview of Freud’s per­son­al and pro­fes­sion­al life, and the result­ing tenets of psy­cho­analy­sis.

And film­mak­er Mad Adam ensures that this brief trip through the infant phases—oral, anal, phallic—will be a jol­ly one, replete with droll, most­ly vin­tage images.

Release more mon­sters of the id with the School of Life’s psy­chother­a­py playlist.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

20,000 Let­ters, Man­u­scripts & Arti­facts From Sig­mund Freud Get Dig­i­tized and Made Avail­able Online

Down­load Sig­mund Freud’s Great Works as Free eBooks & Free Audio Books: A Dig­i­tal Cel­e­bra­tion on His 160th Birth­day

What is Love? BBC Phi­los­o­phy Ani­ma­tions Fea­ture Sartre, Freud, Aristo­phanes, Dawkins & More

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Oliver Sacks’ Final Interview: A First Look

It’s been near­ly a year since the poet lau­re­ate of med­i­cine, author and neu­rol­o­gist Oliv­er Sacks, took his final bow as a sen­tient being on this beau­ti­ful plan­et, suc­cumb­ing, at 82, to metas­tases of ocu­lar melanoma which spread to his liv­er.

The New York­er marks the occa­sion by pub­lish­ing Sacks’ fel­low neu­rol­o­gist and author Dr. Orrin Devin­sky’s rec­ol­lec­tion of their long­stand­ing friend­ship. Devin­sky paints a vivid pic­ture of an excep­tion­al­ly com­pas­sion­ate man, who felt a kin­ship not only with starfish, jel­ly­fish, and octopi, but also humans in both finan­cial and emo­tion­al need.

The piece becomes even more pow­er­ful in light of Sacks’ final inter­view, above, part of film­mak­er Ric Burns’ upcom­ing doc­u­men­tary, Oliv­er Sacks: His Own Life.

Sacks pep­pers his remarks with aston­ish­ing bio­log­i­cal tid­bits, a com­pul­sion that delight­ed his friend Devin­sky on their fre­quent ear­ly morn­ing bike rides along New York City’s west side.

(Palatal myoclonus—or rhyth­mic pulsing—in the palate, eardrum and strap mus­cles are ves­ti­gial evi­dence that humans once had gills!)

(The dandelion’s name evolved from dent de lion, French for lion’s tooth, a struc­ture the spikes on its ser­rat­ed leaves could be said to resem­ble. Also, cer­tain dan­de­lion species repro­duce asex­u­al­ly, and Sacks had no fear about eat­ing an unwashed spec­i­men he plucked from the ques­tion­ably san­i­tary grounds of River­side Park!)

The mus­ings that war­rant the melan­choly piano and strings accom­pa­ny­ing Burns’ excerpt are of a more per­son­al nature. Sacks’ was total­ly immersed in his cho­sen sub­ject. His moth­er was a com­par­a­tive anatomist and sur­geon, and his boy­ish inter­est in the hard sci­ences is what led him to biol­o­gy. A life­time of sci­en­tif­ic obser­va­tion and clin­i­cal inter­ac­tion only add to the poet­ry of his thoughts on death:

My gen­er­a­tion is on the way out, and each death I have felt as an abrup­tion, a tear­ing away of part of myself. There will be nobody like us when we are gone, but then there is nobody like any­body ever. When peo­ple die they can­not be replaced. They leave holes that can­not be filled. It is the fate, the genet­ic and neur­al fate of every human being to be a unique indi­vid­ual, to find his own path, to live his own life, to die his own death. Even so, I am shocked and sad­dened at the sen­tence of death, and I can­not pre­tend I am with­out fear. But my pre­dom­i­nant feel­ing is one of grat­i­tude. I have loved and been loved. I have been giv­en much and I have giv­en some­thing in return. I have read and trav­eled and thought and writ­ten. I have had an inter­course with the world, the spe­cial inter­course of writ­ers and read­ers. Above all, I have been a sen­tient being, a think­ing ani­mal on this beau­ti­ful plan­et, and this in itself has been an enor­mous priv­i­lege and adven­ture.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Oliv­er Sacks Explains the Biol­o­gy of Hal­lu­ci­na­tions: “We See with the Eyes, But with the Brain as Well”

A Fas­ci­nat­ing Case Study by Oliv­er Sacks Inspires a Short Ani­mat­ed Film, The Lost Mariner

Oliv­er Sacks’ Last Tweet Shows Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” Mov­ing­ly Flash­mobbed in Spain

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Her lat­est com­ic con­trasts the birth of her sec­ond child with the uncen­sored gore of Game of Thrones. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

The Neuroscience & Psychology of Procrastination, and How to Overcome It

Pro­cras­ti­na­tion is a skill, an art, a slight-of-hand tech­nique. I’m pro­cras­ti­nat­ing right now, but you’d nev­er know it. How many tabs do I have open in my mul­ti­ple brows­er win­dows? Pick a num­ber, any num­ber. How many tasks have I put off today? How many dreams have I deferred? I’ll nev­er tell. The unskilled pro­cras­ti­na­tors stick out, they’re easy to spot. They talk a lot about what they’re not doing. They run around in cir­cles of bewil­der­ment like the trou­bled hero of Dr. Seuss’s Hunch­es in Bunch­es. The skilled prac­ti­tion­er makes it look easy.

But no mat­ter how much Face­book time you get in before lunch and still man­age to ace those per­for­mance reviews, you’re real­ly only cheat­ing your­self, am I right? You want­ed to fin­ish that novel/symphony/improv class/physics the­o­rem. But some­thing stopped you. Some­thing in your brain per­haps. That’s where these things usu­al­ly hap­pen. When Stu­art Lang­field asked a neu­ro­sci­en­tist about the neu­ro­science of pro­cras­ti­na­tion, he got the fol­low­ing answer: “Peo­ple think that you can turn on an MRI and see where something’s hap­pen­ing in the brain, but the truth is that’s not so. This stuff is vast­ly more com­pli­cat­ed, so we have the­o­ries.”

There are the­o­ries aplen­ty that tell us, says Lang­field, “what’s prob­a­bly hap­pen­ing” in the brain. Lang­field explains his own: the prim­i­tive, plea­sure-seek­ing, pain-avoid­ing lim­bic sys­tem acts too quick­ly for our more delib­er­a­tive, ratio­nal pre­frontal cor­tex to catch up, ren­der­ing us stu­pe­fied by dis­trac­tions. Piers Steel, Dis­tin­guished Research Chair at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Cal­gary and a pro­cras­ti­na­tion expert, shares this view. You can see him explain it in the short video below. The evo­lu­tion­ary “design flaw,” says Lang­field, might make the sit­u­a­tion seem hope­less, were it not for “neu­ro­plas­tic­i­ty,” a fan­cy buzz­word that means we have the abil­i­ty to change our brains.

Langfield’s pur­pose in his short video is not only to under­stand the biol­o­gy of pro­cras­ti­na­tion, but to over­come it. He asks psy­chol­o­gist Tim Pychyl, whose answers we see and hear as an incom­pre­hen­si­ble jum­ble of ideas. But then Pychyl reduces the com­pli­cat­ed the­o­ries to a sim­ple solu­tion. You guessed it, mind­ful­ness meditation—to “down­reg­u­late the lim­bic sys­tem.” Real­ly, that’s it? Just med­i­tate? It is a proven way to reduce anx­i­ety and improve con­cen­tra­tion.

But Pychyl and his research team at Car­leton Uni­ver­si­ty have a few more very prac­ti­cal sug­ges­tions, based on exper­i­men­tal data gath­ered by Steel and oth­ers. The Wall Street Jour­nal offers this con­densed list of tips:

Break a long-term project down into spe­cif­ic sub-goals. State the exact start time and how long (not just “tomor­row”) you plan to work on the task.

Just get start­ed. It isn’t nec­es­sary to write a long list of tasks, or each inter­me­di­ate step.

Remind your­self that fin­ish­ing the task now helps you in the future. Putting off the task won’t make it more enjoy­able.

Imple­ment “micro­costs,” or mini-delays, that require you to make a small effort to pro­cras­ti­nate, such as hav­ing to log on to a sep­a­rate com­put­er account for games.

Reward your­self not only for com­plet­ing the entire project but also the sub-goals.

A Stock­holm Uni­ver­si­ty study test­ed these strate­gies, assign­ing a group of 150 self-report­ed “high pro­cras­ti­na­tors” sev­er­al of the self-help instruc­tions over 10 weeks, and employ­ing a reward sys­tem and vary­ing lev­els of guid­ance. “The results,” WSJ reports, “showed that after inter­ven­tion with both guid­ed and unguid­ed self-help, peo­ple improved their pro­cras­ti­na­tion, though the guid­ed ther­a­py seemed to show greater ben­e­fit.”

Oth­er times, adding self-help tasks to get us to the tasks we’re putting off doesn’t work so well. We can all take com­fort in the fact that pro­cras­ti­na­tion has a long his­to­ry, dat­ing back to ancient Egypt, Rome, and 18th cen­tu­ry Eng­land. The wis­dom of the ages could not defeat it, or as Samuel John­son wrote, “even they who most steadi­ly with­stand it find it, if not the most vio­lent, the most per­ti­na­cious of their pas­sions, always renew­ing its attacks, and, though often van­quished, nev­er destroyed.”

But there are peo­ple who pro­cras­ti­nate, beset by its per­ti­nac­i­ty, and then there are chron­ic pro­cras­ti­na­tors. “If you’re an occa­sion­al pro­cras­ti­na­tor, says Pychyl, “quit think­ing about your feel­ings and get to the next task.” Suck it up, in oth­er words, and walk it off—maybe after a short course of self-help. For all the con­flict­ing neu­ro­sci­en­tif­ic the­o­ry, “there is a qui­et sci­ence behind pro­cras­ti­na­tion,” writes Big Think, and “accord­ing to recent stud­ies, pro­cras­ti­na­tion is a learned habit.” Most research agrees it’s one we can unlearn through med­i­ta­tion and/or patient retrain­ing of our­selves.

How­ev­er if you’re of the chron­ic sub­set, say Pychyl, “you might need ther­a­py to bet­ter under­stand your emo­tions and how you’re cop­ing with them through avoid­ance.” Psy­chol­o­gist Joseph Fer­rari at DePaul Uni­ver­si­ty agrees. Cit­ing a fig­ure of “20 per­cent of U.S. men and women” who “make pro­cras­ti­na­tion their way of life,” he adds, “it is the per­son who does that habit­u­al­ly, always with plau­si­ble ‘excus­es’ that has issues to address.” Only you can deter­mine whether your trou­ble relates to bad habits or deep­er psy­cho­log­i­cal issues.

What­ev­er the caus­es, what might moti­vate us to med­i­tate or seek ther­a­py are the effects. Chron­ic pro­cras­ti­na­tion is “not a time man­age­ment issue,” says Fer­rari, “it is a mal­adap­tive lifestyle.” Habit­u­al pro­cras­ti­na­tors, the WSJ writes, “have high­er rates of depres­sion and anx­i­ety and poor­er well-being.” We may think, writes Eric Jaffe at the Asso­ci­a­tion for Psy­cho­log­i­cal Science’s jour­nal, of pro­cras­ti­na­tion as “an innocu­ous habit at worst, and maybe even a help­ful one at best,” a strat­e­gy Stan­ford phi­los­o­phy pro­fes­sor John Per­ry argued for in The Art of Pro­cras­ti­na­tion. Instead, Jaffe says, in a sober­ing sum­ma­ry of Pychyl’s research, “pro­cras­ti­na­tion is real­ly a self-inflict­ed wound that grad­u­al­ly chips away at the most valu­able resource in the world: time.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Online Psy­chol­o­gy & Neu­ro­science Cours­es

Dai­ly Med­i­ta­tion Boosts & Revi­tal­izes the Brain and Reduces Stress, Har­vard Study Finds

Miran­da July Teach­es You How to Avoid Pro­cras­ti­na­tion

The Art of Struc­tured Pro­cras­ti­na­tion

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Oliver Sacks Explains the Biology of Hallucinations: “We See with the Eyes, But with the Brain as Well”

We all under­stand that hal­lu­ci­na­tion involves see­ing things that aren’t real­ly there, but what are hal­lu­ci­na­tions them­selves? “They don’t seem to be of our cre­ation. They don’t seem to be under our con­trol. They seem to come from the out­side, and to mim­ic per­cep­tion.” Those words come from Oliv­er Sacks, who would know. We fea­tured a short clip of him dis­cussing what he learned from his per­son­al expe­ri­ence with LSD and amphet­a­mines back in 2012, when his book Hal­lu­ci­na­tions had just come out. He died almost exact­ly three years lat­er — and there­fore just under a year ago — leav­ing behind a body of work from which we all stand to gain much under­stand­ing of the work­ings of the brain, as illu­mi­nat­ed by both its nor­mal and abnor­mal states.

In this 2009 TED Talk on what hal­lu­ci­na­tions reveal about our minds, Sacks tells of his expe­ri­ences with one patient, elder­ly and blind, who kept “see­ing” visions of “peo­ple in East­ern dress, in drapes, walk­ing up and down stairs.” Anoth­er, with lim­it­ed eye­sight, ” said she saw a man in a striped shirt in a restau­rant. And he turned around. And then he divid­ed into six fig­ures in striped shirts, who start­ed walk­ing towards her. And then the six fig­ures came togeth­er again, like a con­certi­na.” Anoth­er, with a small tumor on the occip­i­tal cor­tex, “would see car­toons. These car­toons would be trans­par­ent and would cov­er half the visu­al field, like a screen. And espe­cial­ly she saw car­toons of Ker­mit the Frog.”

Sacks con­nects all this to some­thing called Charles Bon­net syn­drome, first described by the nat­u­ral­ist of that name in 1760. Bon­net’s grand­fa­ther, who’d had cataract surgery (and 18th-cen­tu­ry cataract surgery at that), said he saw things like hand­ker­chiefs and wheels float­ing in midair. These hal­lu­ci­na­tions work dif­fer­ent­ly than psy­chot­ic ones, which “address you. They accuse you. They seduce you. They humil­i­ate you. They jeer at you.” But Charles Bon­net syn­drome pro­duces an expe­ri­ence more like watch­ing a film — a term Sacks’ patients could use to describe it, though obvi­ous­ly nobody could have in Bon­net’s day.

Bon­net, Sacks con­cludes, “won­dered how, think­ing about these hal­lu­ci­na­tions, as he put it, the the­ater of the mind could be gen­er­at­ed by the machin­ery of the brain. Now, 250 years lat­er, I think we’re begin­ning to glimpse how this is done.” Thanks to Sacks’ inspi­ra­tion of suc­ceed­ing gen­er­a­tions of neu­ro­sci­en­tif­ic researchers, that glimpse of how we “see with the eyes, but with the brain as well” will only widen.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Oliv­er Sacks’ Last Tweet Shows Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” Mov­ing­ly Flash­mobbed in Spain

This is What Oliv­er Sacks Learned on LSD and Amphet­a­mines

Oliv­er Sacks Con­tem­plates Mor­tal­i­ty (and His Ter­mi­nal Can­cer Diag­no­sis) in a Thought­ful, Poignant Let­ter

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Playing a Video Game Could Cut the Risk of Dementia by 48%, Suggests a New Study

Video games, the world has come to real­ize, can do good. Twen­ty or thir­ty years ago, peo­ple had a hard­er time accept­ing this, much to the frus­tra­tion of dai­ly-gam­ing young­sters such as myself. I remem­ber decid­ing, for a school sci­ence project, to demon­strate that video games improve “hand-eye coor­di­na­tion,” the go-to ben­e­fit in those days to explain why they weren’t all bad. But as our under­stand­ing of video games has become more sophis­ti­cat­ed, as have video games them­selves, it’s become clear that we can engi­neer them to improve much more about our­selves than that.

The New York­er’s Dan Hur­ley recent­ly wrote about find­ings from a study called Advanced Cog­ni­tive Train­ing for Inde­pen­dent and Vital Elder­ly (ACTIVE), which began with three thou­sand par­tic­i­pants back in 1998. “The par­tic­i­pants, who had an aver­age age of 73.6 at the begin­ning of the tri­al, were ran­dom­ly divid­ed into four groups. The first group, which served as con­trol, received no brain train­ing at all. The next two were giv­en ten hours of class­room instruc­tion on how to improve mem­o­ry or rea­son­ing. The last group per­formed some­thing called speed-of-pro­cess­ing train­ing” by play­ing a kind of video game for ten hour-long ses­sions spread over five weeks.

A decade into the study, some of the par­tic­i­pants received extra train­ing. 14 per­cent of the group who received no train­ing met the cri­te­ria for demen­tia, 12.1 per­cent did in the group who received speed-of-pro­cess­ing train­ing, and only 8.2 per­cent did in the group who received all pos­si­ble train­ing. “In all, the researchers cal­cu­lat­ed, those who com­plet­ed at least some of these boost­er ses­sions were forty-eight-per-cent less like­ly to be diag­nosed with demen­tia after ten years than their peers in the con­trol group.”

Intrigu­ing find­ings, and ones that have set off a good deal of media cov­er­age. What sort of video game did ACTIVE use to get these results? The Wall Street Jour­nal’s Sumathi Red­dy reports that “the exer­cise used in the study was devel­oped by researchers but acquired by Posit Sci­ence, of San Fran­cis­co, in 2007,” who have gone on to mar­ket a ver­sion of it called Dou­ble Deci­sion. In it, the play­er “must iden­ti­fy an object at the cen­ter of their gaze and simul­ta­ne­ous­ly iden­ti­fy an object in the periph­ery,” like cars, signs, and oth­er objects on a vari­ety of land­scapes. “As play­ers get cor­rect answers, the pre­sen­ta­tion time speeds up, dis­trac­tors are intro­duced and the tar­gets become more dif­fi­cult to dif­fer­en­ti­ate.”

You can see that game in action, and learn a lit­tle more about the study, in the Wall Street Jour­nal video above. Effec­tive brain-train­ing video games remain in their infan­cy (and a few of the arti­cles about ACTIVE’s find­ings fail to men­tion Lumos Labs’ $2 mil­lion pay­ment to the gov­ern­ment to set­tle charges that the com­pa­ny false­ly claimed that their games could stave off demen­tia) but if the ones that work can har­ness the addic­tive pow­er of an Angry Birds or a Can­dy Crush, we must pre­pare our­selves for a sharp gen­er­a­tion of senior cit­i­zens indeed.

Note: The Advanced Cog­ni­tive Train­ing for Inde­pen­dent and Vital Elder­ly (ACTIVE) study was fund­ed by the Nation­al Insti­tute on Aging (NIA) and the Nation­al Insti­tute of Nurs­ing Research (NINR), both part of the Nation­al Insti­tutes of Health (NIH).

Relat­ed Con­tent:

This Is Your Brain on Exer­cise: Why Phys­i­cal Exer­cise (Not Men­tal Games) Might Be the Best Way to Keep Your Mind Sharp

Dai­ly Med­i­ta­tion Boosts & Revi­tal­izes the Brain and Reduces Stress, Har­vard Study Finds

Becom­ing Bilin­gual Can Give Your Brain a Boost: What Recent Research Has to Say

Demen­tia Patients Find Some Eter­nal Youth in the Sounds of AC/DC

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Philosopher Sam Harris Leads You Through a 26-Minute Guided Meditation

We’ve post­ed on med­i­ta­tion research late­ly because it’s so com­pelling, and med­i­ta­tion music and instruc­tions because so many cre­ative peo­ple have found it lib­er­at­ing. But it’s always worth not­ing that a few med­i­ta­tion skep­tics have weighed in with point­ed objec­tions to the large claims med­i­ta­tion teach­ers often make. And yet even after one of the most unspar­ing cri­tiques of med­i­ta­tion research and teach­ing, sci­ence writer John Hor­gan still admits that “it might make you feel bet­ter, nicer, wis­er” and plans to con­tin­ue med­i­tat­ing in the face of his “per­fect con­tempt for it.”

Anoth­er pro­fes­sion­al skep­tic has gone even fur­ther along this road. Once spo­ken of as one of the dread­ed “Four Horse­men” of New Athe­ism, Sam Har­ris has also long called him­self a sec­u­lar Bud­dhist, and has writ­ten “a guide to spir­i­tu­al­i­ty with­out reli­gion.”

Wad­ing into the pol­i­tics of med­i­ta­tion means deal­ing with skep­tics like Har­ris who treat Bud­dhism as quaint and archa­ic fool­ish­ness that just hap­pened to pre­serve the sci­en­tif­ic tech­nol­o­gy of mind­ful­ness, and it means sort­ing through a lot of sci­en­tif­ic stud­ies, many of which—as is always the case—have a num­ber fatal flaws in their method. Har­ris’ sci­en­tif­ic claims about mind­ful­ness have come in for their own cri­tiques, from both mys­tics and sec­u­lar­ists.

All of this said, the fact is that, like yoga and many oth­er prac­tices designed to har­mo­nize mind and body, the ben­e­fits of med­i­ta­tion, place­bo-induced or oth­er­wise, are observ­able, and the risks entire­ly neg­li­gi­ble. Many skep­ti­cal researchers have decid­ed to dive in and try med­i­ta­tion before ful­ly cred­it­ing their doubts. And that, sup­pos­ed­ly, is the very instruc­tion we find in what is often called the Bud­dhist “char­ter for free inquiry,” which tells prac­ti­tion­ers to inves­ti­gate for them­selves and take no one’s word for any­thing, a few hun­dred years in advance of the British Roy­al Soci­ety’s mot­to, nul­lius in ver­ba.

In this spir­it, skep­tics like Har­ris have inves­ti­gat­ed med­i­ta­tion and report­ed their find­ings. Many also, like Har­ris and aca­d­e­m­ic researchers like Oxford psy­chi­a­trist Mark Williams, have record­ed their own guid­ed mind­ful­ness med­i­ta­tions that cor­re­spond in many respects to the orig­i­nal ancient instruc­tions. We’ve pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured guid­ed med­i­ta­tions from UCLA and a com­pi­la­tion of record­ed instruc­tions from new agers and sci­en­tists. At the top of the post, you can hear Har­ris’ very straight­for­ward guid­ed med­i­ta­tion, and fur­ther down a short­er ver­sion of the same.

In the video above, Har­ris employs just a lit­tle hyper­bole in com­par­ing mind­ful­ness to the Large Hadron Col­lid­er. His claim that only through this prac­tice can we dis­cov­er “the self is an illu­sion” rings false when we think of the many oth­er philoso­phers who have inde­pen­dent­ly come to the same con­clu­sion, whether as Taoists or Empiri­cists. But Har­ris isn’t only mak­ing the case for mind­ful­ness meditation’s true cor­re­spon­dence to some fun­da­men­tal nature of real­i­ty, but for its prag­mat­ic use­ful­ness in help­ing us move through the world with greater skill and peace of mind—reliable out­comes from reg­u­lar med­i­ta­tion that no one has yet cred­i­bly denied.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Lena Dun­ham Shows Why It’s So Damn Hard to Med­i­tate: A Four-Minute Com­e­dy

Allen Gins­berg Teach­es You How to Med­i­tate with a Rock Song Fea­tur­ing Bob Dylan on Bass

Free Guid­ed Med­i­ta­tions From UCLA: Boost Your Aware­ness & Ease Your Stress

Stream 18 Hours of Free Guid­ed Med­i­ta­tions

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Daily Meditation Boosts & Revitalizes the Brain and Reduces Stress, Harvard Study Finds

I don’t mean to sound dra­mat­ic, but med­i­ta­tion may have saved my life. Dur­ing a par­tic­u­lar­ly chal­leng­ing time of over­work, under­pay, and seri­ous fam­i­ly dis­tress, I found myself at dan­ger­ous, near-stroke lev­els of high cho­les­terol and blood pres­sure, and the begin­nings of near-crip­pling ear­ly-onset arthri­tis. My doc­tors were alarmed. Some­thing had to change. Unable to make stress­ful out­er cir­cum­stances dis­ap­pear, I had to find con­struc­tive ways to man­age my respons­es to them instead. Yoga and med­i­ta­tion made the dif­fer­ence.

I’m hard­ly alone in this jour­ney. The lead­ing cause of death in the U.S. is heart dis­ease, fol­lowed close­ly by stroke, dia­betes, and depres­sion lead­ing to suicide—all con­di­tions exac­er­bat­ed by high lev­els of stress and anx­i­ety. In my own case, a changed diet and dai­ly exer­cise played a cru­cial role in my phys­i­cal recov­ery, but those dis­ci­plines would not even have been pos­si­ble to adopt were it not for the calm­ing, cen­ter­ing effects of a dai­ly med­i­ta­tion prac­tice.

Anec­dotes, how­ev­er, are not evi­dence. We are bom­bard­ed with claims about the mir­a­cle mag­ic of “mind­ful­ness,” a word that comes from Bud­dhism and describes a kind of med­i­ta­tion that focus­es on the breath and body sen­sa­tions as anchors for present-moment aware­ness. Some form of “mind­ful­ness based stress reduc­tion” has entered near­ly every kind of ther­a­py, reha­bil­i­ta­tion, cor­po­rate train­ing, and pain man­age­ment, and the word has been a mar­ket­ing totem for at least a sol­id decade now. No one ever needs to men­tion the B‑word in all this med­i­ta­tion talk. As one med­i­ta­tion teacher tells his begin­ner stu­dents, “Bud­dhism can­not exist with­out mind­ful­ness, but mind­ful­ness can exist per­fect­ly well with­out Bud­dhism.”

So, no need to believe in rein­car­na­tion, renun­ci­a­tion, or high­er states of con­scious­ness, fine. But does med­i­ta­tion real­ly change your brain? Yes. Aca­d­e­m­ic researchers have con­duct­ed dozens of stud­ies on how the prac­tice works, and have near­ly all con­clud­ed that it does. “There’s more than an arti­cle a day on the sub­ject in peer-reviewed jour­nals,” says Uni­ver­si­ty of Toron­to psy­chi­a­trist Steven Selchen, “The research is vast now.” One research team at Har­vard, led by Har­vard Med­ical School psy­chol­o­gy instruc­tor Sara Lazar, pub­lished a study in 2011 that shows how mind­ful­ness med­i­ta­tion results in phys­i­cal changes to the brain.

The paper details the results of MRI scans from 16 sub­jects “before and after they took part in the eight-week Mind­ful­ness-Based Stress Reduc­tion (MBSR) Pro­gram at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Mass­a­chu­setts Cen­ter for Mind­ful­ness,” reports the Har­vard Gazette. Each of the par­tic­i­pants spent “an aver­age of 27 min­utes each day prac­tic­ing mind­ful­ness exer­cis­es.” After the pro­gram, they report­ed sig­nif­i­cant stress reduc­tion on a ques­tion­naire, and analy­sis of their MRIs “found increased gray-mat­ter den­si­ty in the hip­pocam­pus, known to be impor­tant for learn­ing and mem­o­ry, and in struc­tures asso­ci­at­ed with self-aware­ness, com­pas­sion, and intro­spec­tion.”

The Har­vard Busi­ness Review points to a anoth­er sur­vey study in which sci­en­tists from the Uni­ver­si­ty of British Colum­bia and the Chem­nitz Uni­ver­si­ty of Tech­nol­o­gy “were able to pool data from more than 20 stud­ies to deter­mine which areas of the brain are con­sis­tent­ly affect­ed. They iden­ti­fied at least eight dif­fer­ent regions.” High­light­ing two areas “of par­tic­u­lar con­cern to busi­ness pro­fes­sion­als,” the HBR describes changes to the ante­ri­or cin­gu­late cor­tex (ACC), an area of the frontal lobe asso­ci­at­ed with self-reg­u­la­tion, learn­ing, and deci­sion-mak­ing. The ACC “may be par­tic­u­lar­ly impor­tant in the face of uncer­tain and fast-chang­ing con­di­tions.” Like Lazar’s Har­vard study, the researchers also iden­ti­fied “increased amounts of gray mat­ter” in the hip­pocam­pus, an area high­ly sub­ject to dam­age from chron­ic stress.

These stud­ies and many oth­ers bring mind­ful­ness togeth­er with anoth­er cur­rent psy­cho­log­i­cal buzz­word that has proven to be true: neu­ro­plas­tic­i­ty, the idea that we can change our brains for the better—that we are not “hard­wired” to repeat pat­terns of behav­ior despite our best efforts. In the TEDx Cam­bridge talk at the top of the post, Lazar explains her results, and con­nects them with her own expe­ri­ences with med­i­ta­tion. She is, you’ll see right away, a skep­tic, not inclined to accept med­ical claims prof­fered by yoga and med­i­ta­tion teach­ers. But she found that those prac­tices worked in her own life, and also had “sci­en­tif­i­cal­ly val­i­dat­ed ben­e­fits” in reduc­ing stress, depres­sion, anx­i­ety, and phys­i­cal pain. In oth­er words, they work.

None of the research inval­i­dates the Bud­dhist and Hin­du tra­di­tions from which yoga and med­i­ta­tion come, but it does show that one needn’t adopt any par­tic­u­lar belief sys­tem in order to reap the health ben­e­fits of the prac­tices. For some sec­u­lar intro­duc­tions to med­i­ta­tion, you may wish to try UCLA’s free guid­ed med­i­ta­tion ses­sions or check out the Med­i­ta­tion 101 ani­mat­ed beginner’s guide above. If you’re not too put off by the occa­sion­al Bud­dhist ref­er­ence, I would also high­ly rec­om­mend the Insight Med­i­ta­tion Center’s free six-part intro­duc­tion to mind­ful­ness med­i­ta­tion. Chron­ic stress is lit­er­al­ly killing us. We have it in our pow­er to change the way we respond to cir­cum­stances, change the phys­i­cal struc­ture of our brains, and become hap­pi­er and health­i­er as a result.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Guid­ed Med­i­ta­tions From UCLA: Boost Your Aware­ness & Ease Your Stress

Med­i­ta­tion 101: A Short, Ani­mat­ed Beginner’s Guide

David Lynch Explains How Med­i­ta­tion Enhances Our Cre­ativ­i­ty

Alan Watts Intro­duces Amer­i­ca to Med­i­ta­tion & East­ern Phi­los­o­phy: Watch the 1960 TV Show, East­ern Wis­dom and Mod­ern Life

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Learning How to Learn: The Most Popular MOOC of All Time

When MOOCs (Mas­sive Open Online Cours­es) first start­ed mak­ing head­lines in 2012, we read sto­ries about thou­sands of peo­ple enrolling in cours­es on Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence and Com­put­er Sci­ence. Since then, the MOOC providers have dou­bled down on pro­mot­ing tech­ni­cal and util­i­tar­i­an courses–courses that will get stu­dents jobs, and even­tu­al­ly make the MOOC providers mon­ey. Peruse this list of the 50 most pop­u­lar MOOCs of all time, and you’ll seen plen­ty of mar­ket-ori­ent­ed cours­es top­ping the list–e.g., #4) Intro­duc­tion to Finance #3) R Pro­gram­ming, and #2) Machine Learn­ing. But what’s the most pop­u­lar course? Some­thing not entire­ly career-focused. Some­thing not imme­di­ate­ly mon­e­ti­z­able. Some­thing that can ben­e­fit us all. Ladies and gen­tle­men, the #1 course, Learn­ing How to Learn: Pow­er­ful men­tal tools to help you mas­ter tough sub­jects.

Cre­at­ed by Bar­bara Oak­ley (Uni­ver­si­ty of Oak­land) and Ter­ry Sejnows­ki (the Salk Insti­tute), Learn­ing How to Learn uses neu­ro­science to fine-tune our abil­i­ty to learn. And the course is being offered again, start­ing today, through Cours­era. You can enroll here (the course is free) and read what ground the course will cov­er below.

This course gives you easy access to the invalu­able learn­ing tech­niques used by experts in art, music, lit­er­a­ture, math, sci­ence, sports, and many oth­er dis­ci­plines. We’ll learn about the how the brain uses two very dif­fer­ent learn­ing modes and how it encap­su­lates (“chunks”) infor­ma­tion. We’ll also cov­er illu­sions of learn­ing, mem­o­ry tech­niques, deal­ing with pro­cras­ti­na­tion, and best prac­tices shown by research to be most effec­tive in help­ing you mas­ter tough sub­jects. Using these approach­es, no mat­ter what your skill lev­els in top­ics you would like to mas­ter, you can change your think­ing and change your life. If you’re already an expert, this peep under the men­tal hood will give you ideas for: tur­bocharg­ing suc­cess­ful learn­ing, includ­ing counter-intu­itive test-tak­ing tips and insights that will help you make the best use of your time on home­work and prob­lem sets. If you’re strug­gling, you’ll see a struc­tured trea­sure trove of prac­ti­cal tech­niques that walk you through what you need to do to get on track. If you’ve ever want­ed to become bet­ter at any­thing, this course will help serve as your guide.

This course gives you easy access to the invalu­able learn­ing tech­niques used by experts in art, music, lit­er­a­ture, math, sci­ence, sports, and many oth­er dis­ci­plines. We’ll learn about the how the brain uses two very dif­fer­ent learn­ing modes and how it encap­su­lates (“chunks”) infor­ma­tion. We’ll also cov­er illu­sions of learn­ing, mem­o­ry tech­niques, deal­ing with pro­cras­ti­na­tion, and best prac­tices shown by research to be most effec­tive in help­ing you mas­ter tough sub­jects. Using these approach­es, no mat­ter what your skill lev­els in top­ics you would like to mas­ter, you can change your think­ing and change your life. If you’re already an expert, this peep under the men­tal hood will give you ideas for: tur­bocharg­ing suc­cess­ful learn­ing, includ­ing counter-intu­itive test-tak­ing tips and insights that will help you make the best use of your time on home­work and prob­lem sets. If you’re strug­gling, you’ll see a struc­tured trea­sure trove of prac­ti­cal tech­niques that walk you through what you need to do to get on track. If you’ve ever want­ed to become bet­ter at any­thing, this course will help serve as your guide.

To find reviews of Learn­ing How to Learn, vis­it Class Cen­tral. To keep tabs on new MOOCs, see our list of MOOCs from Great Uni­ver­si­ties.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

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Open Culture was founded by Dan Colman.