The WiFi Fry

From The Daily Digg by Sarah Weber

"The WiFi fry" is not only a tongue twister - you could try repeating it rapidly twenty times and see how it scrambles your tongue -- it also might be scrambling your brain.

In an experiment done by Danish school girls, they placed two plates of little green thingies in separate locations; one plate near the sun and fresh air, the other next to a wireless router. The plate on the right demonstrates healthy little sprouts enjoying their life, while the plate on the left shows the shriveled remains of a once vibrant group of veggies. (Obviously the fried greens were next to the WiFi router.)

Apparently the experiment was done under properly controlled scientific standards that won these school girls a national prize in Denmark, where humane government policies seem to exist.

With the plethora of WiFi gizmos in our world, from TV remotes to cell phones to powerful towers transmitting the juice to run these things - how much can our electromagnetic brain waves endure?

Maybe that explains the wave of mass murders by suburban young white males, who spend their days looking at computer screens maneuvering video games. Or the horrific spike in autism, thousands of times more prevalent than 50 years ago.

As for me, I have been sitting next to my WiFi router for about a year now. Maybe that explains why my car keys and purse disappear into thin air in my house, or why I couldn't find my iPad with its bright red case that was sitting in plain view on the kitchen counter.

Repetition Reaps Rewards

I was talking to a friend about her labile moods; a wise and kind woman with deep insight into human behavior, nonetheless she expresses sudden bursts of anger, bitterness and tears of rage at times. She also feels energy with great sensitivity and can be drawn to high frequency, sacred spots naturally and easily.

We discussed the stormy aspects of her emotional landscape and their impact on her overall state of well-being, not to speak of the recipients of this negative force field. Having used meditation and the basic tenets of Buddhist philosophy for decades, I know that one must have tools and use them consistently in order to steer the ship on stormy seas.

I said, "You need to meditate, or at least listen to guided visualizations, read books that inspire, do something to break the cycle of negative thinking."

She said, "I tried all that. It works for one minute and then I'm upset again."

Me: "Have you tried it consistently?"

Silence. After a bit she answered, "No."

And therein lies the problem. One cannot simply take a shot of meditation every so often and expect transformation. The only way to experience a true shift in the zeitgeist called your life is to develop a habit. Daily. Twice daily. As much as required for you to notice a change in thinking, acting, and being for the better.

Thoughts are literally electromagnetic impulses, and these little bundles of power are always charging us up, for better or for worse depending on how they are directed. The electrical generator called the brain begets powerful results but only if it is trained. Otherwise, it runs amok.

Just as the body needs exercise and good food to stay fit, so too does our mind. Developing the habit of meditative awareness brings about a definitive change in the nature of being. And who doesn't want equanimity and peace in their lives?

The Funeral Party

Nelson Mandela's body traveled to his home village in the deep country, his remains encased in a flag-draped coffin barely visible through the sleek Mercedes with thick armored glass. South Africans that traveled great distances to catch a glimpse were thwarted by heavy security blocking the route; an ironic game plan for this man of the people.

When John F. Kennedy died from an assassin's bullet, his funeral took on a very different tone. His widow and other dignitaries walked through the streets of the Capitol behind a horse-drawn cart carrying the President's body. In JFK's hour of death, his funeral decor harkened back to the days when a revolution freed the country from a foreign king's greedy rule. This simplicity evoked a message, even if the military-industrial complex failed to take note.

Mandela's funeral also sent a message. The man who stood up to honor a maid because she was a lady - in the midst of a conference with heads of state - sent a powerful message straight from a golden heart. Had Mandela passed away with the clarity of mind to dictate his funeral, it might have looked very different. And cost the taxpayers of his country much less.

As South Africa moves on with Jacob Zuma at the helm - the man who spent $20,000,000 government dollars on his private house renovation (yes!) - the legacy of Mandela will continue to fall by the wayside. The best hope for this country lies in peaceful elections, fruitful dialogue and people of conscience to step in.

South Africa is not the only country still in the throes of childbirth. Planet earth is also undergoing a difficult passage. Do we allow our governments to run away with the goose that lays the golden egg, to slaughter her for immediate gratification? Or do we nurture her so that she continues to give forth sustenance for the many?

All of us must decide, and after making that decision take an action. Large or small, every drop in the ocean contributes to its body.

Axe the Gun Slingers

The line used by the National Rifle Association to justify the easy availability of guns in USA: it is not guns that kill, it's people who kill.

From one perspective, that fact is self-evident. For example, in Iceland there are two guns in every household, yet only one murder last year. The Swiss are armed to the teeth with very few murders, and Canadians have more guns per household than Americans, with a very low murder-by-gun rate.

The above facts don't bode well for the American mindset; it means that a lot of whacko people obtain access to guns that don't hold life in the same esteem as other heavily armed countries.

On the flip side of the coin, very few deaths by gun occur in Japan because almost no one can get a permit to possess one. The red tape and bureaucracy to obtain a weapon may boggle the mind, but in fact make perfect sense. The individual wishing to purchase a firearm is subjected to intensive psychiatric evaluation, community surveillance, hefty licensing fees and other measures to insure the stability and civic mindedness of the gun owner. And, all the above permissions expire after one year, forcing the gun owner to go through above said regulations in a groundhog day ritual.

All things considered, one can only conclude that the policy for gun control in America should follow the Japanese model. Just as one wouldn't put a gun in a child's hands, apparently one shouldn't put a gun in the hands of most gun owners in the good ol' America of Wild West fame.

The right to bear arms was granted by the Constitution shortly after the American Revolution, when it was a good thing for the population to be armed. After all, the British tried once more to gain control of their former American colony, getting as far as Washington D.C. and burning down the White House and other government facilities in the War of 1812.

But in 2013, the invader comes not from the outside but from within. With an unseen pressure causing our citizens to axe each other at alarming rates, let's go Japanese -- not just in our sushi addictions but in their policies of gun ownership as well.

How to Grow A Brain

Some of the more popular western religions view meditation as a new age, brown rice, crunchy granola activity. The designated priest, minister, rabbi or imam provides the conduit to a connection with the Almighty while the faithful rely on personal prayer to get by inbetween sermons. Meditation only gets the official stamp of approval as a bona fide activity in a small cluster of orders, such as the Benedictines.

Of course prayer can be powerful because of its acutely focused intention. And with everything else under the sun, when motivation and concentration form a holy union, they become an unstoppable team.

Although the vast majority of Americans consider themselves religious, the second religion of the overfed public is the multi-billion dollar fitness industry. But with all the emphasis on the body beautiful, the mind has been left in the dust. And this is where meditation enters stage right as the perfect bridge between the Saturday or Sunday tip to religion and the rest of the week where fitness and other less than holy activities occur.

Although not understood completely, neuroscientists do know that the brain contains areas of specialization: some handle logic, while the forté of other gray squiggles might be intuition, creativity, inspiration, memory, fight or flight, and so forth.

With age, the brain shrinks and so all the goodies it provides the young and healthy tend to diminish. How many 90 year olds have the fast reflexes or memory of a twenty-year old (leaving out the doped up younguns)? Answer: almost none.

But there is hope for us baby boomers who are entering the age of decrepitude. We can grow our brains in areas most desired, such as memory and equanimity - which we will need as aging parts start giving out and the Grand Mechanic In the Sky refuses to warranty them with replacements.

Meditation is the key to keeping the incredible shrinking brain from doing so. In a phenomenon called neuroplasticity, the idea goes something like this: use it or lose it.

So how does one grow clarity, awareness, peace, and sharp perception? Meditation, apparently, provides the key. By learning how to focus the mind with positive aspiration, the brain continues to grow, instead of shrivel in these wonderful areas. And the longer one meditates, the bigger the amount of wattage supplied to the brain for expansion. 

With the statistic that 45% of people by the age of 85 will have Alzheimers, it would be logical to rush posthaste for meditation instruction to insure a ride into old age with all the grace and smarts deserved for someone who survives the perils of life that long.

Whether one chooses a secular, westernized version of meditation, or gravitates to a more Eastern style format, the time has come for quiet contemplation.

And now, let's _________________________ for a moment.

Seeing Is Believing - Or Is It?

Yesterday I blogged about a bug that flew into the blazing fire pit at my home; a reflection upon his untimely death. That evening as I was making dinner, a black spot appeared in my peripheral vision. Whirling about to see what insect had ventured into my sacred indoor cooking area, I realized that it was not an external "thing" but something in my own eye.

Throughout the night, little black specs appeared in the three dimensional visionscape, but these black spots were not objective objects. Rather, something screwy is going on in my eyeball, deemed a floater by the vision doc. 

In the midst of dinner conversation with my family, an embarrassing thought popped into my conscious mind from the depths of neuronal hardware. Was it really a bug fly that flew into the fire or a black spot caused by some issue with my eye that I perceived to be an external reality?

The fable of the bug that flew into the fire has its own merits, as all fables do. And maybe a bug actually did fly into the fire. But the realization of a floaties-in-the-eye phenomenon introduced internal controversy: real bug or a non-existent bug disappearing into the flames?

Buddhist philosophers would say that a "real" bug and an "imagined" bug are both illusory, as both are begotten of a dream-like mind; waking events pass in the blink of an eye and vanish into our memory banks, to be interpreted and re-cast as we will them to be. All projection, from no start to no finish! 

Just as we dream of being chased by a bear and wake up with our hearts pounding and beads of sweat forming - all the while snug as a bug in our beds  - so it is with our version of the "real" world that is inextricably woven with the dream world. What I thought was a bug perishing in flames triggered an entire chain reaction of emotions in my psyche, as real as the black floaty that introduced itself later in the day.

Seeing is believing, but what we see is subjective, to say the least. Today my dish is humble pie.

The Bug That Flew Into the Fire

One of the most basic tenets of Buddhism is impermanence. Another foundational principle is that all beings have a consciousness and as such should not be murdered. Even insects.

Despite the nippy 55º F weather, unusual for Southern California even in December, it seemed like a good day to light the fire pit in the backyard to contemplate nature, a cup of cafe au lait in hand.

A sense of serenity and gratitude descended upon me as the flames danced upward, albeit throwing off minimal heat as the source is a small gas jet. Apparently, the warmth didn't spread far enough afield for a fast-moving bug.

This little black supersonic invention of Mother Nature flew right into the edges of the flames' circumference and was incinerated so quickly that its little body disappeared into thin air; not even enough remains to fall on the stones of the fire pit. Who knew that certain insects are so highly flammable?

Although its incineration did not make me weep, something inside me did get a sharp jolt. This little creature was buzzing along, probably quite happy that there had been rain a few days before, which meant vast renewal of life. It didn't know as it traversed along its merry way that sudden death was its fate.

We say of humans who die instantaneously, "Thank god they didn't suffer too much." And in this case, my compassion does go out to this little being and the same sentiment applies to it-him-her.

The reminder of the day takes on yet more sad overtones as the memorial for Nelson Mandela commences in another time and place on the globe. Nothing lasts forever, and lest we forget, the bug that flew into the fire remains a vivid reminder of the frailty and beauty of life.