【TED】感恩如何重塑你的大脑

中英文稿

当我还是个初中科学老师时， 我常让学生们去亲吻他们的脑袋。 我是在参观朋友幼儿园课堂时 获得的灵感， 她会让她的学生们亲吻他们的脑袋， 而他们会伸出他们的手指， 轻触一下他们的嘴， 再触碰一下脑袋。 这画面就像你想象得那样可爱。 于是我决定把这个动作 带回我的初中课堂， 这么做的效果可好可坏， 但最终这也成为了我们的一个 非常有趣的仪式。 作为一种感恩的实践， 我会让我的学生去亲吻他们 辛勤运作了一整节课的头脑。

在教完初中之后， 我回到了研究生院 攻读心理学博士学位。 我的研究领域是积极心理学， 这是一门研究使个人和社会 茁壮成长的力量与因素的科学。 同时，我也会 向本科生和高中生教授心理学。 我热爱教授心理学， 而我最喜欢教的 心理学基础课程正是大脑。 虽然我热爱教授有关大脑的知识， 但我认为对于我的本科生， 也就是一群成年人来讲， 亲吻他们的头脑这件事 或许有点强人所难。 因此，需要等到 3 年之后， 我才会再次想起那句有趣的话。

去年某一天，在教完课后， 我经历了严重的偏头痛， 这让我的半边脸变得麻木， 也让我的视线变得模糊。 偏头痛不断发生。 我看了很多医生， 然后我开始出现头晕目眩的症状。 神经科医生要求我做核磁共振， 我记得当时我非常兴奋， 因为这样我就用自己的脑成像 给学生上课了。 但事实证明， 我的核磁共振成像 看着并不是特别理想。 医生打电话给我，让我去急诊室， 因为我的右脑 有一个大面积的阴影， 我就是在那里 第一次看到了这个图像。

我这辈子从来没有 像那天晚上那样害怕过， 在医院里，泪水不断从我的脸颊滴落。 自从离开我的初中教学课堂以来， 我第一次亲吻了我的脑袋。 我把这当成了每日祈祷， 而且在手术前后的每一天， 我都会亲吻我的脑袋。 然后，在手术两周后， 病理报告出来了， 我被诊断为 间变性恶性星形细胞瘤。

在这之后的每一周都无比的艰难。 我试图通过回顾所有 我写过的有关这段经历的文字， 来找出到底是什么 最令我感到煎熬。 在收到那份病理报告大约一周后， 我写下了这句话并把它 发到了Instagram上： “我会继续抗争。 我会继续热爱，我会继续生活， 我会继续热爱，我会继续生活。” 大约一周之后，我写道： “斗士。 我试图成为一名斗士 看看感觉怎样， 因为我总会听到这些词 出现在我名字旁边， 像是一个工作，像是一个身份， 像是一个角色。 斗士。 我看着镜子里的自己。 起初，这感觉还可以， 但不久后这就变得太令人疲惫、 太沉重、 太多、太令人压抑。 我把它抛在了身后。 一场并非我所期望的战争。 一个不想沦为战场的身体。”

我意识到我经常 被灌输 “斗争” 的思维。 当人们听到我的诊断时， 我便成为了一个斗士。 最多的评论包括 “你是一个斗士”， “继续抗争吧”， “战胜肿瘤”。 在网上， 我迫切地寻找着 确诊后依然活得很好的人。 但是搜索度最高的话题分别是 #braintumorssuck (#脑瘤烂透了)， #cancersucks (#癌症烂透了) 和 #cancerfighter (抗癌斗士)。 我完全理解 为什么这些话题会存在， 但我迫切地想找到一个类似 “#嗨我有一个可能永远不会消失的脑瘤 但我仍然我活着并且茁壮地成长着”的话题， 但貌似大家并不怎么关注这个话题。 我很讨厌 “与自己的大脑抗争” 的说法， 因为我花了数月、 数年的时间亲吻它。 我很讨厌他人试图给我的肿瘤 一个罪大恶极的命名， 因为事实是 它将会在我的余生一直做我的邻居。 我不喜欢引导性意象训练， 它要求我把化疗想象成 一支来与癌细胞作战的军队， 而我不想把生命中一年多的时间 花在与自己的身体抗争上。

我明白这种有关 “抗争故事”的元素 或许能够激励人们， 但我知道对我来讲， 这是不会管用的。 于是，我开始参考我从自己的研究中 所学到的有益身心健康的实践方法。 当发现我的专业是 生物心理学和神经科学， 并且还是一名心理学博士生时， 医生们总是会和我一起大笑。 然后当他们问我我在研究什么， 而我回答我研究 心理韧性和幸福感时， 他们要么再次开始笑起来， 要么说一些类似 “哦，这好像不太相关” 的话， 或者说： “哎。” 我从来没有忘记过这种讽刺。 我读过很多关于 心理韧性的故事和研究， 但我从未设想过有一天 我必须亲身感受它。

我阅读并教授了有关感恩的实践法， 特别是作为一种提升幸福感的途径。 尽管我知道感恩法的积极效果， 我从未在严格意义上践行过它。 我开始将这些实践方法中的 一部分融入我的生活。 我试图不再仅仅关注 我的身体做了什么 “错事”， 而是开始专注于感恩自己的身体。 我意识到这实际上是 我在术前和术后的日子里 亲吻我的头脑时， 所一直在做的事情。 当全世界都在告诉我 我应该与疾病和残疾斗争时， 感恩的心成为了帮助我重新调整 自己对它们的看法的工具。 我没有思考将来我是否能生孩子。 我想到的是我的大脑 尽管受到了损伤， 但却仍能神奇地向 我的身体输送适量的荷尔蒙 ， 让我得以产生足够的卵子， 以备日后之需。 每次我去做放射治疗， 被戴上面罩时， 我都会亲吻我的头脑， 并专注地听住院医生告诉我 “健康的细胞将能 随着时间的推移自我修复， 而癌细胞则不能”。 而当我的手术记录出来时， 我大声把它读了出来。我很清楚地 记得这一天，也曾很畏惧这一天。 我啜泣着， 流下了喜悦和感恩的泪水， 想着我的神经外科医生团队 所做的一切。 我开始对科学、医学和我的 医疗团队产生了巨大的感恩之情， 这些想法开始淹没 “我以后的 生活会是什么样子？” 的想法。

我越是践行感恩，越会在自己 所处的境遇里感到平静。 而这让我对感恩科学在 神经学层面上的体现产生了兴趣。 感恩之心在心理与社交方面 有许多正向的影响。 比如提升幸福感、减少抑郁情绪、 拥有更牢固的关系以及 更积极的情感。 功能性磁共振成像（fMRI）研究表明， 当我们体验和表达感恩时， 我们大脑的多个部位 和神经通路都会被激活。 这其中包括内侧前额皮层， 一个与管理负面情绪有关的区域。 总体上，这些神经递质和 荷尔蒙的变化 与被激活的神经通路相结合， 帮助我们在认知上 调整潜在的有害思想， 从而更好地应对我们所处的境况。 而最酷的是，我们可以有意地去 激活我们大脑中的这些感恩回路。 一般来说，一件事情我们 做得越多，它就会变得越容易。 而我们的大脑也是如此。 我们越经常激活这些感恩回路， 下次刺激这些通路 所需的工夫就越少， 这些通路就会变得越强大。 “神经可塑性” 是我教给我学生的一个术语， 它指的是我们的大脑终生 能够形成新的神经连接的能力。 这意味着这是一件任何人 都可以加以练习， 并且随着时间的推移 变得更好的事情。

所以我一直在践行感恩， 即使是在看似不可能的时候。 我继续感谢着我的大脑， 感谢它在我准备今年的 12 轮化疗时 所做的令人惊喜的工作。 每天早上醒来，我都会雷打不动地 写下我感恩的三件事， 以及我为之感恩的原因。 我给许多人写了 “感谢信”， 这其中包括我的健康护理英雄们、 那些静脉注射扎针一次性 就成功的护士、 那位在我手术中意识清醒时 握着我手的麻醉科住院医生、 在治疗期间播放 我的歌单的放射治疗技师， 以及每次走进医院时 都令我喜笑颜开的行政人员。

在此，我要将我教授的理论 付诸于实践， 致敬密歇根大学医学院跨学科 脑瘤诊所的我的医生们及其团队。 我从来没有遇到过如此聪明、 善良和耐心的人。 谢谢你们在我感到畏惧时 让我变得勇敢。

我想全宇宙可能都会觉得 一个研究幸福感的心理学导师和研究 人员最后得了脑瘤这件事很可笑。 事实是，我们需要更多 对于脑瘤和脑癌的关注与研究。 医生们无法精确地预测 我的肿瘤将如何发展， 说实话，我们任何人都无法精确地 预测我们的生活将会是什么样子， 但我希望我能向你证明我们也可以 对意外的挑战感到感恩。

我并不想否定那些觉得 “抗争故事” 很有激励性的人。 我也绝不是想说在面对逆境时， 找到感恩的方法是件容易的事， 这是我这辈子做过的 最困难的事情。 但我想激励那些和我有同样感受的人， 告诉他们有另一种渡过难关的方式， 爱自己的身体不一定需要前提， 并且，通过践行感恩， 我们实际上可以改变 我们大脑的结构， 从而帮助我们建立心理韧性。

最后， 我希望每个人， 无论你在哪里，在做什么， 都能花一些时间去亲吻自己的脑袋， 并感谢它为你所做的一切。

When I was middle school science teacher, I would often ask my students to kiss their brain. I got this idea from visiting my friend's kindergarten classroom. She would ask her students to kiss their brain, and they would take their fingers, tap them to their mouth and then to the top of their head. And it truly was as cute as you can picture it to be. So I decided to bring it back to my middle school classroom, which could have gone one of two ways, but it ended up being a really fun ritual for us, too. And I would ask them to kiss their brain for all the work they did in class as a practice of gratitude.

After teaching middle school, I came back to grad school to get my PhD in psychology. My research is within the area of positive psychology, which is the science that investigates the strengths and factors that allow individuals and communities to thrive. I also get to teach psychology to undergrad students and high school students. I love teaching psych, and my absolute favorite unit to teach In Intro Psych is the brain. But while I love teaching about the brain, I thought it would be pushing it to ask my undergrads, aka adults, to kiss their brains. So three years would go by before I would remember that fun phrase.

One day after teaching last year, I had a terrible migraine that left half of my face numb and blurred my vision. The migraines kept happening. I saw multiple doctors, and then I started experiencing dizzy spells. The neurologist ordered an MRI, and I remember being so excited because then I would be able to use my own brain pictures when I taught brain imaging to my students. But as it turns out, my MRI wasn't too picture perfect. The doctor called me and asked me to go to the ER because there was a large mass in the right hemisphere of my brain, and that's where I saw the image for the first time.

I have never been more scared in my life than I was that night, and with tears dripping down my face, in the hospital, I kissed my brain for the first time since I had left my middle school classroom. I made it my mantra, and I kissed my brain every single day, leading up to and after surgery. Then, two weeks later, after surgery, the pathology reports came back and I was diagnosed with an anaplastic astrocytoma.

The weeks following were very difficult. I tried to figure out what I was struggling with the most by looking back on all the things I had been writing about this experience. I wrote and posted this on Instagram about a week after I received that pathology report: "I will keep fighting. I will keep loving, I will keep living, I will keep loving. I will keep living." And then about a week after that, I wrote this: "Fighter. I tried it on to see how it felt because I kept hearing those words next to my name, like a job, like an identity, like a role. Fighter. I look at myself in the mirror. It felt OK at first, but soon it became exhausting, too heavy to lift, too much to carry, too burdensome to bear. I took it off and left it on the floor. War was not for me. A body is not a battlefield."

I realized that I had been introduced to the fight narrative. When people heard my diagnosis, I became a fighter. "You're a fighter," "Keep fighting," "Beat this tumor," were the top comments. And then there was the internet, the place I so desperately searched for people who were doing well with their diagnosis. But the top hashtags to search for were #braintumorssuck, #cancersucks and #cancerfighter. I understand completely why those hashtags exist, but I was so eager to find the hashtag #hiIhaveabraintumorthatmightnevergoaway andImstilllivingandthriving and I guess there just isn't a ring to that one. I hated the idea that I was going to be at war with my brain because I had spent months and years kissing it instead. I hated the suggestion of naming my tumor something awful because the reality is that it was going to be my neighbor for the rest of my life, and I hated the guided imagery training that asked me to picture chemo as an army coming to battle the cancer cells because I didn't want to spend over a year of my life at war with my own body.

I can see how these elements of the fight narrative can be empowering for people, but for me, I knew it wasn't going to work. So I started to reference well-being practices that I had learned from my own studies. Doctors always laugh with me when they find out that I'm a bio-psych and neuroscience major and psych PhD student. Then when they ask what I'm studying and I tell them I study resilience and well-being, they either laugh again, say something like, "Oh, that's irrelevant," or go, "Aw." The irony was never lost on me. I have read so many stories and studies of resilience, but I never pictured the day that I would have to personally experience it.

I read and taught about gratitude practices, specifically as a well-being strategy, and even though I knew the positive effects, I had never seriously practiced them myself. I started to incorporate some of these exercises into my life. I tried to stop focusing on what my body had done "wrong" and focus on the gratitude I had for my body instead. And really, I realized this is something I had been doing when I was kissing my brain those days leading up to and after surgery. Gratitude became the tool that helped me restructure my vision of illness and disability when the world was telling me I should fight it instead. Instead of thinking about if I would be able to have kids one day, I thought of how amazing it was that my brain, despite its trauma, was able to deliver the perfect amount of hormones to my body to produce enough eggs to save for a later date. Every time I went to radiation and was put in my mask, I kissed my brain and I focused on the resident telling me how the healthy cells would be able to repair over time and the cancer cells could not. And when the operative notes came back for my surgery, a day that I remember very well and had been scared to think about, I read the note out loud, sobbing, happy and grateful tears, thinking about what my neurosurgeon's team did. I started to feel such an immense sense of gratitude for science, medicine and my medical team, that those thoughts started to drown out the "What is my life going to be like?" thoughts.

The more I practiced gratitude, the more peace I felt in my situation, and this got me interested in what could be happening with the science of gratitude at a neurological level. There are several positive psychological and social outcomes of gratitude, like increases in happiness, decreases in depression, having stronger relationships and experiencing positive emotion. And fMRI studies show us that several parts of our brain and pathways are activated when we experience and express gratitude. One of these parts is the medial prefrontal cortex, an area associated with the management of negative emotions. Together, these changes in neurotransmitters and hormones combined with activated neural pathways, help us cognitively restructure potentially harmful thoughts to better manage our circumstances. And the cool thing is that we can intentionally activate these gratitude circuits in our brain. In general, the more we do something, the easier it becomes, and our brains work the same way. The more we activate these gratitude circuits, the less effort it takes to stimulate those pathways the next time, and the stronger those pathways become. Neuroplasticity is a term I teach my students that refers to our brain's ability to form new neural connections throughout life. Which means this is something that anyone can practice and get better at over time.

So I kept practicing gratitude even when it seemed impossible. I continue to thank my brain for the amazing work it does as I prepare for 12 more rounds of chemo this year. I write down three things I'm grateful for and why I'm grateful for them, no matter what, every morning that I wake up. I write "thank you" notes to my heroes and health care, nurses who get the IV in the first time. The anesthesiology resident, who held my hand during the awake portions of my surgery, radiation therapist that play my playlist during treatment and administrative staff that makes me smile every time I walk into the hospital.

I do want to take a second here and practice what I teach to shout out my doctors and their teams from the Michigan Medicine Multidisciplinary Brain Tumor Clinic. I have never met such intelligent, kind and patient people. Thank you for making me feel brave when I sometimes felt the opposite.

I think the universe might think it's funny that a psych instructor and researcher who studies well-being ended up with a brain tumor. The truth is that we need more awareness and more research regarding brain tumors and brain cancer. Doctors can't exactly predict how my tumor will behave, and really, none of us can predict what our lives are going to be like exactly. But what I hope I can show you is that we can also be grateful for the unexpected challenges.

I don't want to dismiss people who may find the fight narrative empowering. I also don't want to suggest that it's by any means easy to find ways to be grateful in dealing with adversity. This has been the hardest thing that I've ever had to do. But I do want to empower those that feel like me, that there's another way to go through whatever your journey may be, that loving your body doesn't have to be conditional. And that by practicing gratitude we can actually wire our brains to help us build resilience.

And lastly, I hope everyone, no matter where you are or what you are doing, can take a second to kiss your own brain and thank it for all that it does for you.