Tag Archives: Blindness

BOOK: “The Mind Electric” by Pria Anand

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The Mind Electric: A Neurologist on the Strangeness and Wonder of Our BrainsThe Mind Electric: A Neurologist on the Strangeness and Wonder of Our Brains by Pria Anand
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Publisher Site — Simon & Schuster

There are A LOT of pop neuroscience books out there that reflect upon what we know about the brain from what goes wrong with it. I thought I was done reading such books because, while the first few are fascinating, they tend to retell the same stories.

That said, I’m glad I read this one, and what made it worth reading was that the science was explored in a very personal way, and I don’t just mean that the author recited her own personal experiences or those of her patients (though she does both,) but rather that the whole book is imbued with her worldview. She relates maladies of the mind to works of literature, of Greek and Hindu mythology, and to other aspects of culture in a relatable manner.

Another factor that sets this book apart is that its author shows a passion for language. In that sense, it reminded me of the works of Oliver Sacks (who she references a number of times,) rather than your average — articulate but linguistically conservative — neuroscientist.

I’d recommend this book for any readers interested in neuroscience, particularly anyone looking for a book that sets itself apart from the crowd. (I don’t recall it even mentioning Phineas Gage, which I thought was a requirement of all such books.)

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“Fulani Creation Myth” by Anonymous [w/ Audio]

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At the beginning there was a huge drop of milk.
 Then Doondari came and he created the stone.
   Then the stone created iron;
   And iron created fire;
   And fire created water;
   And water created air.
 Then Doondari descended the second time.
   And he took the five elements
   And he shaped them into man.
 But man was proud.
 Then Doondari created blindness,
      and blindness defeated man.
   But when blindness became too proud, 
 Doondari created sleep,
      and sleep defeated blindness;
   But when sleep became too proud,
 Doondari created worry,
      and worry defeated sleep;
   But when worry became too proud,
 Doondari created death,
      and death defeated worry.
   But then death became too proud,
 Doondari descended for the third time,
   And he came as Gueno, the eternal one.
     And Gueno defeated death.

NOTE: The Fulani (also known as Fula and Fulbe) are a West African herding tribe that live in Mali, Niger, Nigeria, Guinea, and Senegal.

“On His Blindness” by John Milton [w/ Audio]

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When I consider how my light is spent,
 Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
 And that one Talent which is death to hide
 Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent
 To serve therewith my Maker, and present
 My true account, lest he returning chide,
 "Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
 I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent
 That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need
 Either man's work or his own gifts; who best
 Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His State
 Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
 And post o'er Land and Ocean without rest:
 They also serve who only stand and wait."

NOTE: This poem is sometimes called “Sonnet 19,” sometimes “On His Blindness,” and sometimes “When I Consider How My Light Is Spent.”

Dark Cave [Haiku]

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bats squeak & poop:
unseen in the dark, but
each sound amplified

Line of Blindness [Tanka]

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mountains peek from clouds.
moments before they'd hid well;
i can't help but think
about all those times,
flying through clouds, blindly

Three Closed Eye Tanka

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I
rustling leaves,
i hear only chaos;
the blind man hears
a single leaf fall,
hitting others as it drops


II
the sunshine
glows on my eyelids,
warms my face;
i see movement in
shifting dark blotches


III
the city noise,
so chaotic when looking,
becomes ordered
when I close my eyes
and sit with the sound

POEM: An Exercise in Walking Blindly

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I walked up to the window — eyes closed.

The explosions of irregular shapes settled into an even sheet of orange — a warm and comforting hue. It became more yellow as I continued to stand before that unseen sunny day.

When I turned my back on the window, light blues boiled up from a dark and even metallic blue — until the inside of my eyelids settled into shifting Rorschach mosaics of dark colors, mostly purple and black.

Walking blindly,

-every step is an adventure,

-every sound matters,

-there is no wandering mind.

I wonder how long my brain would take to rewire if I kept my eyes sealed shut.

I suspect a blind person can take a mundane walk, but there is nothing mundane in my walk. There’s no mind left to wander after one piece keeps me on balance, another piece takes note of other sensory input, and yet another bit positions my hands for maximum gentleness of collisions.

I have no yearning to be blind, but it does wake up something within one what one never knew lie dormant. And in those moments I experience life anew.