Good Morning Thinkers!

MSG: Innovation with unintended consequences

History from the Glutamate Association:  More than 1,200 years ago, Oriental cooks discovered that some foods tasted better when prepared with a soup stock made from the seaweed Laminaria Japonica. It was not until 1908 that Professor Kikunae Ikeda of The University of Tokyo isolated glutamate from the seaweed and unlocked the secret of its flavor-enhancing properties. Since that time, MSG has been, and continues to be, widely used as an effective means of making good food taste better.

So, MSG started out as an innovation with the best of intentions.  The Glutamate Association makes a very rational sounding case for the safety and effectiveness of glutamate and yet there are 146 studies published on PubMed, a service of the National Library of Medicine that question that position and closely link MSG with obesity and other health hazards.  Here's one of the more readable blurbs:

MSG added to a standard diet increased food intake. Overfeeding induced metabolic disorders associated with oxidative stress in the absence of obesity. The fiber-enriched diet prevented changes in glucose, insulin, leptin, and triacylglycerol levels that were seen in the MSG group. Because the deleterious effects of MSG, i.e., induced overfeeding, were not seen in the animals fed the fiber-enriched diets, it can be concluded that fiber supplementation is beneficial by discouraging overfeeding and improving oxidative stress that is induced by an MSG diet.

Innovations that affect a complex system (such as the human body) are almost always going to create unintended consequences.  It's a law we, as innovators, should take very seriously. 

Below is an article which outlines some of the hazards with MSG and outlines some of the unexpected places you might find it.

Life Secrets

Brendon Burchard, Author of Life's Golden Ticket offers readers a chance to share their secrets of living a happy and meaningful life ... and read the secrets of others.  These short snippets of life wisdom are definitely worth browsing.  And, don't forget to add your own.  http://www.lifesgoldenticket.com/browse.php?pageno=1

Seeing Miksang

      "To see a world in a grain of sand
     And a heaven in a wild flower,
     Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
     And eternity in an hour." (William Blake)

This just in from my favorite artist blogger, Robert Genn:  “A traditional art form has been greatly facilitated by the advent of the digital camera. The art of Miksang was begun as a meditational tool by Shambhala Buddhists, but it has implications for painters and other creative people. The idea is to find joy and awareness by attending to the minor and seemingly insignificant--the colours, patterns and textures that exist in the close-up world. Miksang is a Tibetan word that means "good eye." Shambhalas think widespread use might lead to more compassionate and enlightened societies.”

Last December when I took a digital collage class from Bob Masla in a small Mexican village, I discovered a new way to think about photography. Rather than compose photos, I could look at everything as an “element” that might be used in a collage.  It opened up a new way of thinking and increased the number of photos I took by a factor of 10 … at least.  I was delighted to discover that this way of looking at the world has a name and an official place in the spiritual world.

Burke's Wedding Vows

If you missed the final episode of Grey's Anatomy, you missed a romantic moment that would melt the heart of Medusa.  Preston Burke practices his vows in an operating room full of women.  Here are the vows (even better if you can find a rerun of the actual episode):

Christina, I could promise to hold you, and to cherish you.  I could promise to be there in sickness and in health.  I could say till death do us part.  But I won’t.  Those vows are for optimistic couples, the ones full of hope.  And I do not stand here on my wedding day, optimistic or full of hope.  I am not optimistic.  I am not hopeful.  I am sure.  I am steady. And I know.  I am a heart man.  I take them apart.  I put them back together.  I hold them in my hands.  I … am a heart man.  So this, I am sure, you are my partner, my lover, my very best friend.  My heart beats for you.  And on this day, the day of our wedding, I promise you this.  I promise you to lay my heart in the palm of your hands.  I promise you … me.

The response:  one woman says:  "Forget Christina ... marry me!"

Raise the Roof

Artist Robert Genn's newsletter "Painter's Keys" continues to offer great insights about art, creativity and life.  Here's his latest offering:

Now it seems that researchers at the Universities of British Columbia and Minnesota have found a relationship between creativity and the height of ceilings. Rui Zhu and Joan Meyers-Levy tested various volunteer groups in rooms of eight- and ten-foot ceilings. "When a person is in a high-ceiling environment, they are going to process information in a more abstract, creative fashion," said Zhu. "Those in a room with relatively lower ceilings will process in a much more concrete, detail-oriented fashion."

These researchers feel people under high ceilings are "primed"  to think broadly because of the sense of freedom associated with the space, while the containment of a lower ceiling encourages people to think small and focused.

There may be something in this. Artists have traditionally demanded high ceilings, not only so they can run up their easels and facilitate high light but also to give themselves creative headroom. My studio, for example, is divided into two areas, one with a 9-foot ceiling, the other with a pitch that goes up to 14 feet. I've noticed I feel different in the two areas, and bringing work-in-progress from one area to the other demands different moves.

On the other hand, working outside under an infinite ceiling can evoke a kind of conservative stagnation. In my case, this perverse reaction may be due to the intimidation that the great outdoors has always given me and may not be typical of all plein air enthusiasts. On the other hand, the studio in general is a sanctuary where I may safely vacillate between exploratory creativity and my personal bag of tricks.

Apart from the feng-shui of high ceilings and their invitation to power and expansive thinking, other benefits include the dissipation of toxins and more oxygen. And when you think about it, the availability of empty warehouses and lofts on Manhattan has contributed greatly to the New York "paint big" school.

Paris has always had some big places too. "Give me the venue and I will fill it up," said Picasso. While larger, higher studios may invite larger, higher work, they might also invite larger, higher ideals. Incidentally, these researchers ought to try to find out if shorter persons are more creative than taller ones because they have more space above their heads.

Best regards,

Robert

PS: "Higher ceilings prime the feeling of freedom that in turn facilitates the relational processing of multiple data." (RuiZhu)

Esoterica: Contrarily, I'd like to draw your attention to the possible value of confinement. Tight little areas such as bird blinds, cars and motorhomes work well for many. It has something to do with the absence of clutter and the opportunity to focus. Curiously, I've pulled off more than a few reasonable paintings in the economy seat of a crowded aircraft. I feel there's something smugly brilliant about keeping my elbows to myself. In any case, when building the studio of your dreams, you need to think about bumping your head.

Thousand-Hand Guan Yin

If you haven't seen this, don't miss it.

There is a phenomenon sweeping through Asia which is still relatively unknown in the West.  It is a stunning stage performance called Thousand-Hand Guan Yin.  Considering the tight coordination required, their accomplishment is nothing short of amazing, even if they were not all deaf. Yes, you read correctly. All 21 of the dancers are complete deaf-mutes. Relying only on signals from trainers at the four corners of the stage, these extraordinary dancers deliver a visual spectacle that is at once intricate and stirring.

About Guan Yin

Guan Yin is the bodhisattva of compassion, revered by Buddhists as the Goddess of Mercy. Her name is short for Guan Shi Yin. Guan means to observe, watch, or monitor; Shi means the world; Yin means sounds, specifically sounds of those who suffer. Thus, Guan Yin is a compassionate being who watches for, and responds to, the people in the world who cry out for help.

Bodhi means wisdom or enlightenment; sattva means being or essence. Put the two together and you get bodhisattva, a being who is enlightened and ready to transcend the cycles of birth and death, but chooses to return to the material world in order to help other people reach the same level of enlightenment. This is the ultimate demonstration of pure compassion.

The thousand hands of this bodhisattva represent Guan Yin's many abilities to render assistance. There are a thousand eyes on these hands which give Guan Yin great powers to observe the world. Guan Yin also has many faces so she can become who people need her to be, not necessarily herself, because her help is given in a way that is literally selfless.

Due to the widespread influence of Chinese culture, Guan Yin has become arguably the most popular and well-known bodhisattva in the world. This can sometimes lead to confusion as people erroneously equate Guan Yin with bodhisattva. For instance, quite a few people have already mistranslated the Chinese name of the performance to Thousand-Hand Bodhisattva.

Also, the deification of Guan Yin can lead to a misconception at a fundamental level. A bodhisattva is not a deity but a human being - a spiritually advanced human being. Although Guan Yin is depicted as a beautiful Asian woman, anyone can be a bodhisattva regardless of appearance, race and gender. Whenever you act in accordance with a natural impulse of total compassion, you have taken another step toward becoming a bodhisattva yourself.

Amazing Grace Movie

Don't miss this one ... it's an inspiring movie about a powerful moment in history.  This year is the 200th anniversary of the abolition of the slave trade in the UK and the leading force behind that change was British politician, William Wilberforce. 

While I knew the story of John Newton, the slave ship captain who became a minister and wrote the title song, I did not know how the slave trade actually ended.  It was interesting to find out that rather than being beat down by rhetoric and reason, the slave trade was sapped of its energy by a legal maneuver that took away the profit in stealing, transporting and selling human beings. 

The movie is a stirring reminder of how much one person can do.  While there were many people involved in this movement, Wilberforce was the catalyst that kept it alive and forced the vote in the political arena.  It also made me wonder how we might remove the profit from war. 

Lest we think slavery is only a nasty note in our past, however, one reviewer reminds us,  "But the work of justice and mercy continues. 27 million men, women, and children are still enslaved around the globe."

Are You Happy?

Before you read any further, stop and answer the question:  "How happy are you?" and answer it with a number from 1 - 10 (10 being the highest level of happiness).

While that question seems an arbitrary, non-scientific way to determine a person's level of happiness, some scientists are saying that the answers produced are valid and predict things about the rest of our lives ... for instance, how long we'll live and how effective we will be in our lives.  BBC produced a six-part series on happiness which you can see here.

So, what was your answer?

The Missing Stage

Perhaps it's a bit foolish to fly in the face of an established field of research and science but after my last post, I began to think even more about the stages of grief.  Kubler-Ross suggested 5:  denial - anger - bargaining - depression - acceptance and the JAMA article suggested a different 5:  disbelief - yearning -anger - depression - acceptance.  While the JAMA stages felt more like my own experience, I suddenly realized they both stopped with acceptance.

That's the best we can hope for -- acceptance of the loss?  I don't think so.  There are too many examples of people who suffer horrible losses and then turn the loss into something new:  Christopher Reeve and his work for spinal cord injury, Candy Lightner forming the MADD foundation after the death of her daughter, and thousands of other examples.  There has to be another stage -- new growth, transformation, something that gives the loss meaning.  Not that every loss has to turn into a charitable foundation but somehow the loss has to provide space for something new that is meaningful.  Acceptance seems to imply a stopping point.  It's over and we're moving on.  But, within loss there is a huge energy that can, eventually, be used to fuel new growth.

So, I think we need to change the model and give people something to hope for, something to watch for, a belief that the phoenix will rise out of the ashes.  My stages of grief proposal would be:  disbelief - yearning - anger - depression - acceptance - rebirth.

In the process of thinking about this, I had to remind myself about the Phoenix myth.  The Wikipedia entry is posted below.

Science of Grief

Richard died three months ago and just as I’m starting to expect things to get better, they seem to be getting worse.  Obviously, grief doesn’t operate on a linear curve.  The surprising thing is depression.  I’ve lived most of my life with people who have been officially diagnosed with depression, or probably should have been.  I never really understood it even though I tried and hope I was at least somewhat empathetic about it.

I’m a sanguine person, a glass-half-full, no-point-crying-over-spilled-milk, Sagittarian- with-a-smiley-sun-in-Jupiter-type of person.  I believe in letting go and getting on with it; making lemonade when life hands you lemons. But, in the past few weeks I’ve noticed a niggling sense of meaninglessness taking root … and rational thinking, counting my many blessings and working harder don’t seem to be making it go away. 

It’s hard to make sense of these feelings.  I have a rich life and hundreds of things I want to do.  I understand that there is a gaping hole in my life and expect to feel sad but meaninglessness puzzles me.  The only thing that’s different in my life is my husband is gone.  I still have work that challenges and engages me.   Art calls to me, young grandchildren delight me, the land around me lifts my spirit.  Which brings me back to depression and reminds me of conversations I’ve had with people who suffer from that condition and the lack of understanding I had for how they could possibly feel meaninglessness when they had so many things to live for.  I now have a tiny inkling of how they must feel and am very sorry that I wasn’t able to be more understanding before.

I guess depression shouldn’t have been a surprise and could possibly be seen as a positive sign since it’s the fourth stage of the grief cycle (Kubler-Roth’s model:  denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance) however a new study from JAMA, supports some of the stage theory while also contradicting some basic elements.  Here’s a brief from the abstract:

Counter to stage theory, disbelief was not the initial, dominant grief indicator. Acceptance was the most frequently endorsed item and yearning was the dominant negative grief indicator from 1 to 24 months postloss. In models that take into account the rise and fall of psychological responses, once rescaled, disbelief decreased from an initial high at 1 month postloss, yearning peaked at 4 months postloss, anger peaked at 5 months postloss, and depression peaked at 6 months postloss. Acceptance increased throughout the study observation period. The 5 grief indicators achieved their respective maximum values in the sequence (disbelief, yearning, anger, depression, and acceptance) predicted by the stage theory of grief.

Yearning is the stage that replaces bargaining and feels much more appropriate for me.  But none of this seems to be clear “stages” but rather a blending of all of them at once with some getting bigger while others are getting smaller.  Right now yearning and depression seem to be getting bigger while disbelief is fading.  Anger is only occasionally peeking into the scene and acceptance is hopefully waiting in the wings.