The Evolution of the Human Brain: What We Can Learn from the Tale of the Worm and the Rock
I was reading an article on the evolution of the human brain based on a scientific study done using worms that found the possible beacons of early nervous system complexity and found myself thinking — wow. We are NOT unlike the worm.
Listen! I have a point. When a worm hits a rock in its path, it doesn’t think OMG! A rock! How do I get around it? With its tiny body and non-existent arms, you can imagine the feat in front of the little guy. Yet, the worm doesn’t get all in a tizzy about the rock. The worm registers the rock as a rock and inch by inch, the tiny Buddha squirms around the obstacle, continuing along its small but mighty journey.
This is where we‘ve evolved. The human condition to analyze and thoroughly think about how to address the rocks of life, and even ruminating on these challenges or barriers is an evolutionary achievement. Or is it now?
A Harvard news article stated that people spend 46.9 percent of their waking hours thinking about something other than what they’re doing, and this mind-wandering typically makes them unhappy. This means happiness is self-controlled, and we are more than capable of choosing to simply observe what is in front of us and move on like the worm, instead of spiraling into thought spider webs.
The benefit here is we can think and feel deeply. We can form emotional attachment. British psychologist John Bowlby, one of the most well-known attachment theorists, observed that attachment and security in humans extends from connectedness with our parents in early childhood. Attachment corresponds to the chemicals called neuropeptides oxytocin and vasopressin in the brain. Although instinctually driven, attachment is very much paired with our emotions, something even the earthiest of worms do not experience. Some might say worms form ambivalent attachment, but we know worms cannot form attachment. We know they have simple nervous systems, just like lobsters. Therefore, they cannot process emotions and can void heartbreak and suffering.
Although we do experiences the woes of emotional pain and suffering, we get to take that emotional wreckage and share it with others. We have the gift of self expression. According to Forbes, showing our vulnerability is one of the surest ways to establish more intimate relationships. When we feel, we can let other know, helping us connect and engage with our like-minded beings.
Unable to really think or feel without instinctual detection and unable to really emotionally connect with other squirmy beings, worms are observably lonely and simple creatures. Worms have a brain that connects with nerves from their skin and muscles. Their nerves can detect light, vibrations, and even some tastes, and the muscles of their bodies make movements in response. Worms are far less complicated in this way (although worms have FIVE hearts! I hypothesize this is because their circulatory systems aren’t as complicated as ours — and maybe because their blood doesn’t have to go to so many body parts.)
Without technology, worm cognitive ability is almost zero. Unfortunately, our lives have become attached to technology like iPhones and computers, and tech touch is driving our attachment to depend on that experience.
Back to point and case: A worm does not have the ability to think beyond the rock. It just sees the rock and moves on without a care in the world.
How simple! A worm doesn’t see the rock as a challenge. The worm does not have an internal dialogue with itself about what to do or what not to do; the common duality of the self and the experiencing self battling back and forth, blabbering on and on whenever a trigger sets us off. The worm does not fester or fret.
So nope, we are not the worm. We have evolved passed it to the point where our brains can imagine, dream, and pull apart experiences and organize them into pieces like a non-material explosion and then build it back together again. Our brains are complex, capable of chaos. It is a complicated organ — arguably to a moot point.
The question is, who has it better, the worm or the human? How can we try to be more like the worm, for the sake of our sanity, and just maybe — the greater good? When we simplify our brain processes, we can breathe a little easier and redirect our energy otherwise used for festering, pondering, and manifesting elsewhere to dare I say bigger, bolder, and better things.
My conclusion is that no, we do not experience life like a worm, but we are not so different from the worm, either when we refuse to recognize the stories we weave together in our mind, replay the theories we create, or cycle through the negative automatic messages we receive when a stimulus comes up.
Can we learn to embrace the way our brains process and think about the rocks of life? To that note, how can we reconnect with our more primal selves in times of great urgency to develop simple-minded responses to stressors?
We are as insignificant as the worm, and there is nothing more humble and more powerful than stepping down from our ego and into our own humility. Who cares about the rock in our way. We will either get around it, or we’ll find a way through it. The worm certainly doesn’t care about its presence in life. With five hearts and no means for rumination, the worm inches right along. Oh, what we can learn from wiggly friends caked in dirt!
Mind=blown. I can’t stop thinking about it because hey, I’m human.
