four.eps

 

Mirror
Realities

 

Theory of Mind

Remember the personal narrative, that full-sensory story, that your default network spins behind the scenes? While mirror neurons use motor areas of the brain to internally replicate actions, cortical midline structures have the ability to model or represent your whole mind, your whole body, indeed, your whole life. Through a medium of memory, states, and submodality markers, your brain composes the story of your life, complete with character development, backstory, and an entire world in which it can play. That same engine of modeling, with the power to represent a complete mind, also comes into action when we make our internal representations of others. The mirror neurons help us begin the process by recognizing other people as being like us and understanding their movements and intentions. From there, the default network can develop complex psychological models. This ability is called Theory of Mind and allows us to not only empathize but to make detailed projections of another person’s thought and behavior. Mirror neurons conspire with the cortical midline structures of the default network to bring us the rich and detailed world of imagination.1 And, as already noted, our imaginings can activate our neurology and physiology as if they were “real.”

There’s a natural purpose for this mental activity. In effect, evidence suggests that when humans get social, we are interacting as much with these internal models of each other as with the actual people they represent. It is part of how we relate to each other all the time. There are quite a few predictions that we make about each others’ behavior, for instance, that are complex, yet so fundamental to our behavior that we take them for granted. The simple, motor-neuron behaviors may be the most obvious. For example, if someone offers you a glass of water, you automatically and unconsciously make detailed predictions about how they will follow through, where they will go, where the glass will end up, and anything else that helps enable you to meet and receive the glass with your own hand. Beyond the simple monkey tricks, though, we also make more elaborate social predictions about whether someone will respond appropriately to a joke, if it is the right time to shake hands (which involves social prediction as well as motor prediction), and what kind of efforts will most please employers, friends, and family members. Whether these predictions are entirely accurate or not, they are parts of the model on which we base our decisions and actions.

Indeed, the nature of the model sometimes becomes painfully apparent when our communication goes awry. For instance, consider the mighty provider for his family who buys his wife houses, cars, and boats, but she leaves him anyway because all she wanted was to spend some time with him. These purely hypothetical people remain at odds because they each continue to operate on fallible maps of each others’ mind. He thinks that property ownership will make her happy. She thinks he likes her company.

Sometimes we use the limits of human model-making to our advantage, as when a fighter feints in one direction and strikes from another, or when a stage magician uses misdirection to create an illusion. If a hapless opponent makes a faulty prediction about what the fighter intends, he gets clobbered. If an audience member acts on an inaccurate model of the magician’s movements, she gets to be delighted by the illusion.

One of the fun things about imagination is that it is like breathing. Normally, most of the functions of imagination—social predictions, dreams, fantasy, and model-making in general—are largely unconscious processes. Like drawing your next breath, the processes continue without much conscious input at all. However, if you choose to take conscious control over your breathing or your imagination, you can direct it in any number of ways.

The most likely basis for the various models and projections we make about others begins with the models we make of ourselves—the personal narrative that constantly forms and reforms in our brains. Simple adjustments to that model can yield interesting, exciting, and even woohoo-filled experiences.

Associated/Dissociated

In every one of our senses, an important submodality distinction we can make is whether our experience can be considered “associated” or “dissociated.” This is, perhaps, another way to approach internal/external distinctions: Associated means that we experience the perception from our own frame of reference, from our own point of view. Dissociated means that we experience the perception as if from another frame of reference or point of view. For example, in visual representations, an associated image would represent the experience as if from our own eyes. A dissociated visual representation would be as if we were someone else looking at ourselves. In the associated image, we would see what we saw, and in the dissociated image, we would see ourselves in the image as if looking in a mirror or watching ourselves on video.

Any sense can be represented as associated or dissociated. For example, you can say something, or you can imagine hearing your own voice. You can feel your present state inside your own body, or you can imagine feeling yourself as an external presence.

The following exercises involve using your imagination to adjust your own self-image. Remember, everyone visualizes, recalls sounds, or elicits feelings in their own unique ways. Do each to the best of your ability and remember that some imaginings may be naturally vague and some may be very rich in detail.

Exercise 4.1 In and Out

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Exercise 4.2 Watch Yourself Relax

a. Make the image larger or smaller.

b. Make the colors brighter or more muted.

c. Emphasize the foreground as opposed to the background, and vice versa.

d. Make the sounds or speech louder or
quieter (if the emphasis is on hearing rather than seeing).

e. Speed up and slow down the action (works for all senses).

f. Move the image closer or farther away (works for all senses).

g. Give the image a soft glow or sparkles.

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Notice how subtle changes in the structure of your imagined self, the alterations we make in the form and quality of our internal image, have the ability to change our response to the entity. Different configurations affect our consciousness in different ways. Making the representation larger or smaller, brighter or dimmer, etc., will often continue the process of making us more or less relaxed. Hopefully you found a configuration that was woohoofully relaxing.

The Neurological Origin of Gods

A few major pieces of our model are now in place. We know that mirror neurons and the cortical midline system of the default network can recognize and model entities in response to human-shaped images as well as words, sounds, feelings, and movements. Combined with the submodalities in which they are encoded, these images convey information about state. For most people, viewing these entity images can also nudge our neurology and physiology toward the state. Both the pure submodality information of energy flows and the human-shaped symbols can come pretty close to some of the traditional symbols used to access specific states. Those symbols are, of course, the gods, goddesses, demons, angels, and entities of every pantheon from every culture.

Indeed, some of the gods and goddesses of the ancient world not only look like us, but began their careers as human beings. This is perhaps most apparent in African and African Diaspora traditions where it is said that the Loas and Orishas once walked the Earth as our ancestors. By engaging in exploits that attained the level of legend, their lives became enshrined as tales and they transformed into beings of myth, memetic entities transmitted through stories, images, and rituals from mind to mind and from culture to culture. This is, potentially, the continuing memetic spread of states across big swaths of time.

Other historically important entities had human-shaped symbols created for them. The gods of nature were linguistic and iconic representations of the forces and secrets of the world around us. They were qualities that were given the faces, hands, bodies, words, and emotional experiences of humans so that we could appreciate them, discuss them, and share their states with others. Sometimes they are blended with animal or other non-human properties—for instance, the body of a lion on the Sphinx—but nonetheless include enough human-like cues to be recognized as entities.

In our culture, we have images, figures, and human-shaped symbols that we use for communicating and sharing states, but we don’t necessarily call them gods. We call our important tales movies, books, comics, history, and journalism. We call their inhabitants fictional characters, superheroes, historical figures, and celebrities, among other things. When we contemplate our contemporary stories and the entities that populate them, as well as mythic tales of heroes and deities, we activate our neurology in ways that allow us to feel the joy, passion, sorrow, power, ethics, and wisdom of the gods. When we watch Luke Skywalker destroy the Death Star, we feel elation, almost as if we fired the decisive shot ourselves. When we look at the statue of Abraham Lincoln at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., we may feel inspired by the wisdom and compassion of the great president. When we read a book or watch a movie about how Frodo Baggins carried the Ring to Mordor, we feel some of the excitement, horror, loyalty, and persistence that the fictional Frodo feels. When we see or hear our favorite rock stars, we feel something of the freedom and exuberance they transmit through their performance. We often use submodality language to describe what distinguishes these characters: “He is a shining example.” “She is larger than life.” “They went out in a blaze of glory.”

What makes the difference between just another character, just another person, and the mythic beings that find a place in our pantheons? You guessed it—woohoo.

There are many ways to use these natural tendencies of consciousness for magical purposes. We can create and work with dissociated images in a way analogous to the use of traditional gods and goddesses. Let’s start with one of the most common goals in practical magick—creating prosperity in our lives. Remember that prosperity is not necessarily about finances; for some people it might mean a happy family, a bountiful harvest, a big stamp collection, or a fully stocked store. Most often, prosperity is about the things that we hope to do to improve our lives.

Exercise 4.3 The Prosperity Technique 2

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Of course, if we can do this with prosperity, we can self-create god/dess images for just about any quality. Some traditional pantheons include deities for many different aspects of life and our internal pantheons may be even larger and more inclusive. The following exercise can be practiced as many times as you’d like, for whatever qualities you wish to work with.

Exercise 4.4 Instant God/dess

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