Domestication

Domestication: “Starting when we are very young, we are presented with either a reward or a punishment for adopting the beliefs and behaviors of what others find acceptable. When we adopt these beliefs and behaviors as a result of either the reward or punishment, we can say that we have been domesticated.”

Of course, we normally use the word in a different context, usually as a reference to various farm animals, but as this particular context confirms, domestication is at the very heart of our own story. After all, it takes only a quick inventory of our own opinions and long-held beliefs to concede just how deeply our subjugation to authority has been programmed into us. Most of the social norms we adhere to, the political leanings we profess to follow and of course the religious faith that we align ourselves with are each products of our domestication. It’s an inconvenient confession to make, but when I cast a critical eye at the evidence and see how my own childhood played out, it’s clear that I stand within arm’s length of that compliant and submissive ox pulling his plow in order to avert the lash of his owners whip, or even to a beloved pet learning new tricks for the promise of a treat. The only difference being that our domestication comes with the awareness of it…. if we own up to it, that is. That may come across as self-depreciating, but the analogy holds, nonetheless.  

I pulled that definition from a new book, “The Wisdom of the Shamans” by Don Jose Ruiz, because it calls explicit attention to our own lack of input in the formation of our early identities. The reality is that our parents, family, and teachers were our true architects. It’s just an undeniable, and largely unavoidable process of our early education.

In psychological terms this process is called “imprinting”, meaning that when we are young and very impressionable, the behaviors and beliefs of those in control of our young lives are ‘imprinted”, or hardwired into our emotional playbook. FMRI scans have shown that critical thinking is done by the pre-frontal cortex, which is the last part of the brain to develop, normally during late adolescence, but our identity is bound primarily to the amygdala—one of the first areas of the brain to develop. It is the amygdala that regulates our fear responses and ties emotional meanings to our memories. Therefore, when we are young and dependent on our parents and immediate family for our survival, it is the amygdala that ensures our physical and emotional wellbeing. In real terms that equates to adopting whatever belief or behavior is expected of us. In other words, we were domesticated as our young minds readily accepted without question what was being taught in order to ‘fit in’ and feel loved and protected by those we depended on.

The most unique description of this process comes from, “Jitterbug Perfume”, Tom Robbins epic story of true individual independence. In the book, an ancient perfume bottle is discovered by a main character and after smelling its last remaining fumes, receives a euphoric, transcendent rush of awareness and clairvoyance. Or to put it another way, the secrets of the God’s were suddenly revealed. From there a mad search ensued for its secret ingredient in a wild story that could only come from the mind of Tom Robbins. What is that secret ingredient you may ask? The distilled juice from a Beet. But before I lose you there, let Robbins’ explain it, which highlights his utter uniqueness.

“The Beet is the most intense of vegetables. The onion has as many pages as “War and Peace”, every one of which is poignant enough to make a strong man weep, but the various ivory parchments of the onion and the stinging green bookmark of the onion are quickly charred by the belly juices and bowel bacteria. Only the beet departs the body the same color as it went in.

Beets consumed at dinner will, come morning, stock a toilet bowl with crimson fish, their hue attesting to beet’s chromatic immunity to the powerful digestive acids and thoroughgoing microbes that can turn the reddest pimento, the orangest carrot, the yellowest squash into a single disgusting shade of brown.

At birth we are red-faced, round, intense, pure. The crimson fire of universal consciousness burns in us. Gradually, however, we are devoured by parents, gulped by schools, chewed up by peers, swallowed by social institutions, wolfed by bad habits, and gnawed by age; and by the time we have been digested, cow style, in those six stomachs, we emerge a single disgusting shade or brown.

The lesson of the beet, then, is this: hold on to your divine blush, your innate rosy magic, or end up brown.”

That amusing diatribe from Robbins has been an ever-present bookmark in my life ever since I first read it some 30 years ago and works as a poignant reminder to always strive to out-maneuver the domestication that life in a modern society expects, and to always maintain a healthy distrust of conformity.

Another wonderful example that comes to mind would be a scene from “Dead Poets Society” when Robin Williams takes his young pupils out into a common area on their school’s campus. Once assembled, he calls out three of the boys and asks them to walk, or to simply stroll however they please, but once they began it took no time before they begin walking in perfect unison, with each of their strides matching in military cadence, then the other boys begin clapping to the beat of their steps, prompting Williams to begin singing out a Drill Sargent’s marching cadence, “Left, left, left, right, left”.  In all it took only a few short minutes for the entire group of boys to conform to the expectations of the group. Then Williams had them stop.

At that point he reminded them to notice how each started off walking independently before they began to conform. Williams artfully used this stunt to remind them of “the difficulty in maintaining your own beliefs in the face of others.” Then said, “Now we all have a great need for acceptance, but you must trust that your beliefs are uniquely your own”. Williams continues by quoting an incredible line from Robert Frost, “Two roads diverged in the wood and I, I took the one less traveled by”.

Williams then had all the boys stroll around the courtyard….to find their own walk, their own stride as a way for them the experience that feeling of independence for themselves. But one boy wasn’t walking, and was instead leaning against one of the courtyard pillars when Williams noticed him and asked, “Mr. Dalton, will you be joining us?” But the student had the perfect reply, “I’m exercising the right not to walk”, thereby acing the lesson.

Of course, in recognizing our childhood ‘imprints’, which are the lingering fingerprints from our domestication, comes our response to them as adults, whether to stay obedient to the expectations of others and continue to pull their plow, or to refuse it in order to till and cultivate our own fields.

With that in view, I believe a good share of my own herding tendencies have been dealt with and thrown off. I am certainly a vastly different man than my teenage version could have imagined, but domestication runs deep and some areas cannot be rejected without consequences, and I’m certainly not immune from having to navigate that terrain. For instance, years ago I purposely chose to work a “Corporate America” job due to its predictability and financial safety net. I have no ambition to move up the corporate ladder or to manage people in any way. I simply want a steady job that doesn’t make extracurricular demands on my mental life. Now it would be dishonest of me not to admit there is a fair amount of conformity that comes along for that ride, and on one level I could be accused of selling myself out, but if that is true, then I’m selling a part of me for a larger purpose in mind. You see, I draw a clear line between making a living and making a life, so separating the two has evolved into something of a fine art for me. In most all other areas of my life, I am definitely a free thinker, bound by nothing but my own intellectual passions and curiosities. There may still be some level of passive conformity along the fringes of my personality, but where it matters most, I am free of the lash.

Note: (October 11^th, 2020)

Just this week I came across an article about Emerson and discovered that he wrote about this very idea in an essay titled, “Self and Society”. Specifically, he wrote about how to find a balance between our need for solitude and the cultivation of our individuality, while also maintaining a necessary foothold in the culture that we must remain a part of.

“Solitude is impracticable, and society is fatal. We must keep our head in the one and our hands in the other. The conditions are met, if we keep our independence, and do not lose our sympathy.”

 I find it reassuring that I developed my own path toward this goal and have been living from it for many years now without realizing that Emerson had beaten me to it.