The Interpersonal Field
When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the Universe. - John Muir.
For philosophical and psychological reasons, let’s start not with who we are when our aim is to be helpful, but with where we are. Let’s say we are in the interpersonal field. Starting with the field reminds us of a bedrock truth of existence: that we are, indeed, hitched to everything else in the universe. This means that who we are affects—and is affected by—the others around us. To be is to be-in-relation. This truth is expressed in many ways.
For example, did you know yawns are contagious? And not just your yawns, but your level of arousal, breathing patterns, and emotional state? If you’d just been mugged and walked into a room of people meditating, you wouldn’t have to say a word for them to feel your distressed arousal taking the interpersonal field by storm.
This phenomenon, sometimes called “emotional contagion”, is (partly) explained by “limbic resonance”. Research is revealing how the socially minded limbic system plays a key role in mediating nonverbal communications between individuals. Often we are not conscious of the process.
My dog Theila reminds me that these communications extend well beyond the local human domain of the interpersonal field. The other night I was reading on the couch while she slept nearby. When I put the book down, Theila sat up and looked at me—hoping for a sign that I might do something that involved her. I looked back at her, yawning, and to my delight she also yawned! Alas, this wasn’t the sort of being-together she was hoping for, but for me it was a strangely delicious bonding moment: as different as she and I are, to be sharing the limbically synchronized experience of a deep, whole-body, end-of-the-day yawn. I was amused, but not surprised, to discover that cats don’t appear to be as susceptible to social contagions.
It’s useful to think of our lives and relationships as unfolding in subtle fields through which travel not just light and sound and scent, but myriad other emotionally minded signals. It’s sobering to think that we’re unaware of much of what’s being communicated. Theila yawned, but it didn’t occur to her that she was catching my yawn. No, she was editorializing about how boring I am when I’m reading. For my part, until I learned more about the underlying interpersonal neurobiology (including the part mirror neurons play), I had assumed that such experiences were a mere coincidence; now I know we’re hitched in “limbic synchrony”.
Our internal stream of feelings and thoughts is continuously affected by perturbations in the field surrounding us. Even our ways of talking show this. A friend said of a colleague at work, “We just don’t vibe.” Another friend said she and her sister “never seem to be on the same wavelength.” A patient recently said, “I feel better here with you than when I’m alone. It’s like there’s a positive force field in here.” Earlier in the same session I had asked whether my response resonated with what he said. So, metaphorically, at least, we talk as though we’re awash in vibrations and wavelengths, synchronicities and resonances, all communicated through a field that joins us all. Nor is this just a metaphor; in physics we know that the gravitational field, for example, connects every body in this universe.
Three big takeaways here are that an interpersonal field connects us; that an enormous amount of information is continuously being communicated through the field—whether or not we’re consciously apprehending it; and that we will be better at helping others as we become more consciously aware of what is being communicated (in both directions) through the field.
There’s a fourth, more challenging and controversial takeaway about which I’ll have more to say later: Remote forms of connection such as teletherapy reduce the range and depth of communication, and thereby the effectiveness of an alliance. Online help is rarely better help.
At a collective intelligence meeting at Santa Fe Institute this summer, many lectures by social-animal researchers (including human) gave rigor to these ideas. Flocks and swarms and groups exhibit “social waves” either as a mathematical consequence of mere nearest-neighbor interactions, or (more for humans) anticipation of the whole (think stadium). The speed of the wave measures a kind of tension in this inter animal field.
Thanks for this, Gary. Three comments.
First, in my experience teaching, though this is only anecdotal and I have no representative sample size, if I am not interested in being in the classroom, no matter how much I try to convey a positive contrary outward-facing presentation to the students, students still pick up on it, and not necessarily explicitly.
Second, because human beings are animals generally (sensitive, passionate, appetitive, imaginative) and only human particularly (rational), and because non-human social animals, or most any way, lack the kind of speech capacity of humans, it should not surprise us to have neurobiology confirm that all manner of affect not presented by facial or body posture or speech is capable of being communicated and sensed. And surely what you are saying is that it is sensed: "interpersonal field connects us; that an enormous amount of information is continuously being communicated through the field." After all, Theila senses you are boring.
Third, if what you describe is sensed, there must be a sense for it that can be articulated and understood along with the nature of the object it senses. But if (IF!) we want to be fully Aristotelian (De anima ii 5, ii 12) about all this: if we become aware of the limbic affects of others, our sensitive power for this is, in some way, moving from potentially being such as the limbic affect of the other is to being in actuality such as the limbic affect of the other is. If limbic affect is information that gets conveyed, then in becoming aware of this in another we are literally in-formed by it. And if what we are informed with is contrary to our disposition, it won't "feel" right—it won't be "on the same wavelength" with ours.
I look forward to reading how the thesis your are urging suggests that online therapy is rarely equal to in-person.