The 21st Century No Man's Land: Traversing the "Mental Environment" & Debunking the Social Stigma of Mental Illness

I've been people-watching much more lately. I try to overhear smalltalk in public places. I notice how patrons settle their bills at restaurant tables and gas station counters. I stare at the porches of the houses I drive by (but not too much - I'd like to stay on the road, for the most part). And in all the casual conversations, for each dollar shoved back into a lady's purse or every impatient gaze spent waiting for e-money to process, during the front yard reunions and far-too-long farewells of much-too-short visits, there exist those fleeting nuances of behavior - the individual quirks and reactions to social cues that populate situations and create contexts for our minds to swim within. And by some sort of magical osmosis, our thoughts combine with situations, which are shaped by situations past, and are all a part of the larger milieu of our grand experience. I like to think that this very scientific-sounding, yet sensual process I imagine happens somewhere that Bill McKibben describes as the "mental environment" in his eponymous article featured on the Adbusters website.

(Adbusters, self-described: We are a global network of culture jammers and creatives working to change the way information flows, the way corporations wield power, and the way meaning is produced in our society.)

And although the phrase "mental environment" may seem fairly unremarkable as a coined term, it is an idea worthy of thoughtful consideration, essential as a part of our collective conversation. It's taken for granted that when we say or hear the phrase "protect the environment," or any other related phrase attached to the environmentalism movement, what is being referred to is our physical environment. And what about other environments? Globalization has been the hot button term for discussions on economic and cultural environments. There seem to be hundreds of pundits analyzing the political environment on the 24-hour news stations.

So what about the mental environment? Do we attend to this area as much as we do others, minding the positive or negative impacts of contributors to the environment? The last time I heard someone warn me about polluting my mind was most likely during a tirade by one of my teachers (probably one of the nuns) in grade school. And while in thinking back on my Catholic education, I now view a reasonable amount of what I was exposed to as mental pollution, conceptualizing of our mental environment as a mutable phenomenon, a potentially vulnerable entity to be guarded is pertinent to the maintenance of not only intellectual and emotional health but to every other area of well-being.

In another article on Adbusters, the progressive and insightful magazine that was so thoughtfully recommended to me by a couple of my wisest friends (Lauren and Jeff), Kalle Lasn and Micah White write on the "Ecology of the Mind." They argue that we are faced with an entirely new set of existential challenges in a world where an increasing number of our experiences come to us secondhand, that is, not physically or directly but through virtual worlds. And because of this, we must be cognizant of the present threats to our mental well-being. These potential mental pollutants, according to Lasn and White, are: noise, infotoxins and infoviruses, the erosion of empathy, loss of infodiversity, the fragmentation of our psyches, and the running out of culture. Is it not a wonder that our minds are caught in such turmoil when we are exposed to an atmosphere that is saturated with stimuli, wrought with messages that impress upon us the value of productivity at any cost, an ideal of blind consumerism, and general insatiability?

Granted, psychological dismay was felt by people long before the advent of our hyper-industrial, technological age. Sadness, confusion, loss of purpose - even mental illness befell many individuals of bygone days. Hysterical fits were thought as the sign of a dark force, maybe possession by a demon or an experiment in witchery. But just as other organs in our bodies can become sick and infected, our brain can so, too. And there are many ailments that can materialize in the brain which are readily perceivable; our eyes can plainly see if someone's head is punctured and MRIs can show where tumors are present. It is those less tangible neurological disorders that are much more difficult to account for and treat. While the human body is intricate enough, the brain is an even more complicated, rapidly-changing component on its own. Not only can physical changes - what we eat and how much we exercise - affect our brain's functioning, emotional and intellectual forces can and do cause profound influence. And to top that off, scientists and medical professionals are just beginning to open the flood gates to the secrets of our neurological states. There are more uncharted pathways and yet-to-be-discovered elements within our minds than there are presumably in any other major area of the human anatomy.

Why, then, do we yet judge those high and low emotions - mania, anxiety, depression, compulsions - and all other 'maladaptive' behaviors as somehow outside of the human condition? When we see this in others, or hear of it, what is it that causes us to cringe and alienate those who suffer? Is it that we see something that could be, or is deep down, a part of all of us? Even for those of us who will admit to experiencing these states tend to cling to the archaic notion that they are in some way perverse, unreasonable malfunctions - unfortunate, but nonetheless, something to be feared.

Well, emotions are not unnatural. And given our current state of affairs, I almost find it to be abnormal for us to not be highly affected or highly emotional over some of the events and ideas that surround us. And for all those suffering from mental illness in some form (including myself), do not be ashamed.

And while we do not have the answers to everything - to all the complexities of our brains, to the landscape of our mental environment, to the challenges we face in a world filled with millions of varying viewpoints and aims for the future - this does not give us reason to abandon. Remain attuned to caring for the mental environment. Judge not those who appear to be on the margins of a 'normal' society. And most importantly, do not retreat due to confusion or feelings of powerlessness.

Take a breath. You are not the whole world, but you are still a part of it.

Facing Myself: Reflection Lake and Mirrors to Reality

While walking back to my car today after class, I decided to make a quick stop at reflection lake at the back of campus. The warmth of the sun was perfectly tempered by a soft breeze as I veered off toward a short concrete bench in front of the water. I set everything aside - my books, purse, anxieties, plans, and my sandals so that I could dip my feet into the crisp, cold wetness. I spied the geese as they propelled themselves along the lake's surface, butts lifted and heads bobbing into the water to wet their beaks. I started to play around, splashing my feet in water that seemed to me surprisingly clear. The day was so beautiful that I couldn't help looking all around me, staring at the sky and back to the road where cars drove by, speeding somewhere. I looked back down and noticed that my feet were stirring up all the dirt and debris at the water's edge into the once clear lake, turning it a cloudy, swirly light brown. And so I splashed more, because I liked this mess I was making.

At a distance, the lake lived up to its name - it was a luminous reflection, pure and calm. But as I approached it, peered closer at its makeup, and became acquainted with it, I discovered that there was an entirely other world beneath the sparkling exterior. There were rocks and dirt and tiny creatures swimming within. And when I interrupted my illusion, I found the grimy, muddy result to be far more interesting than before I had decided to involve myself in the business of the lake. But again, standing back from the lake, distracted by about a thousand other stimuli, a fleeting glance only tells half the story. Not even that much, really.

I recently (today) finished watching the documentary "Manufacturing Consent," based on the eponymous book written by Noam Chomsky and Edward Herman. It analyzes the mass media, showing it to be a mechanism of political and social control over populations in a state. Chomsky's bold claims, a fat pill to swallow, seems a welcome remedy for those lost in the malaise of a complacent existence while an onslaught of brash falsities for those who would rather cling to naive adherence to the subtle tyranny of the corporate world. He lives not as the majority would choose to, occasionally (if ever) looking down at the world, but constantly immersing himself, muddying topics and supposed truths. Once the illusion is dirtied, it becomes more and more difficult to assess, yet the imperative is not to cease the interruption but to keep causing waves. Life is no life at all if it does not contain action.

And so, I'm not afraid to get a little dirty.

Because in the end, as Noam says, "It's mainly a matter of whether you can look yourself in the mirror, I think."

Quarter-Life Crisis: A Reconfiguration

There's something about being 23. Something that is inherently awkward, like getting your first period or having to shave those first patches of pubescent facial hair. Blink 182 puts it - "Nobody likes you when you're 23." But I think Incubus captures it best, at least for me - "A decade ago, I never thought I would be, at 23, on the verge of spontaneous combustion - woe is me." When I was 13, a bad hair day was catastrophic. Kissing at a school dance was scandalous. And getting a C on a test meant I would never get into college. Now, the veil of youth is lifted. I've experienced true loss, true sadness. I've learned about true atrocities - not just waking up late for school or tripping in front of a cute boy - but horrid things, secret bombings and campaigns, systematic manipulation, hidden agendas and elaborate cover-ups. Everyday, there is tragedy.

But then again, there is also sunshine. And ecstasy. And miracles.

And what I'm beginning to realize, more and more each day, is that I must become acquainted with both. I want to experience life, fully without restraint, and to do that is to confront the negativity along with embracing the positivity. Situated between the two, amongst the humanity and ambiguity that lies within the boundaries of right and wrong, I want to understand why people are compelled to lie but are brought to tears by honesty, why they cheat but beg for fairness, why they murder yet rejoice at birth, why they hate when in the end, all they want is to be truly loved.

That is where I want to be. And consequently, that is where I'm at right now. I just recently quit my job, I'm about to graduate college, I'm moving out of my apartment and back in with my mother, and I'm currently single. At 23, I'm living life in the in-between. But maybe that isn't such a bad thing. I've decided to dive in and see what I find. And on the way back up, I will think of all I saw, and look at the sun and moon and stars with a whole new wonder and majesty.