Conscious Choice Seattle: Monkey See, Monkey Do

August 2007 | From the Editor

Monkey See, Monkey Do

By Ritzy Ryciak

I have always had a hard time watching graphic, gory violence in movies and on TV. In theaters, I’m the girl who squeezes her eyes shut, waits the required two or three seconds and then whispers, “What just happened?” The worst is when I open my eyes too early and catch a glimpse of the decapitated, bloody, gooey, oozing something.

The problem is — images stick with me. Like that scene in the Ed Norton movie American History X, which I tried not to watch, but unfortunately opened my eyes too soon. If you’ve seen it, you probably remember the incident I’m talking about. It involves a curb, a mouth, and a boot — and to this day, the memory, when I allow myself to think about it, still churns my stomach. There is something about watching another person suffer, whether physically or even emotionally, that has the capacity to seep into my own sense of self and well-being. Knowing this, I’ve always tried to be somewhat discerning about the scenes I let into my brain.

This month in our Tune In section, bestselling author Frances Moore Lappé (Diet for a Small Planet, 2007) gave me more fodder for my discernment. Lappé takes on the topic of power and the obvious (and not-so-obvious) influence that each of us have on one another.

Lappé writes that in the early 1990s, neuroscientists were studying the brain activity of monkeys. Looking at the monkeys’ frontal lobe, the scientists observed specific neurons firing for specific activities when the monkeys performed certain actions — like reaching or eating. Then they noticed something that surprised them. The very same neurons fired when a monkey was simply watching another monkey perform the action.

“We do walk in one other’s shoes, whether we want to or not,” writes Lappé. “When we observe someone else, our own brains are simultaneously experiencing at least something of what that person is experiencing.”

Lappé adds that we can be certain that our actions, and maybe even our mental states, register in others.

“We change anyone observing us,” she adds.

Ack! The implications of this are potentially empowering and, truthfully, scary. This is the reason that I try to stay home when I’m cranky. Moods are catching!

This month, in addition to the neuron-firing monkeys, I believe that CC’s pages address some of the more subtle and unseen forcesthat each of us are susceptible to.

We spend some time in the trees with author Jamie Friddle’s feature, “Back to the High Life.” Friddle introduces readers to the ever-growing trend of treehouses, while staying true to the quiet shift that these “oldest living creatures” are having on their inhabitants.

“A treehouse lifts you out of your preoccupations and into possibility,” writes Friddle. “Where once again you hear your own true voice, away from everyone and everything. Anything you do in a treehouse — read, sleep, work, make love — somehow seems like the right thing to do.”

This summer, I am compelled to spend more time up in the leaves, listen to my “own true voice” and smile at every single person I encounter.

Here goes…

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