Without our senses, our ability to perceive and experience the world would not only be incomplete, but non-existent. Despite the fact that they are a part of the body as a whole, our senses elevate our ability to experience life beyond merely existing quite uniquely, providing very specific opportunities for the enjoyment of our world and our relationships. Here's Looking at You (August 1997) Do we have an extra sense? Most individuals have many experiences that prove, at least to them, that we do. Science, however, has a way to go to conclusively prove what almost all of us already know... The Scent of a Woman (June 1997) The sense of smell is one of nature's gifts, a gift that is designed as an aid to perceptions of the world. When we lose it, we lose much more. Here's Looking at You (August 1997) Do we have an extra sense? Most individuals have many experiences that prove, at least to them, that we do. Science, however, has a way to go to conclusively prove what almost all of us already know... The New Scientist recently published the accounts of controversial biologist and author Rupert Sheldrake whose exploration into what some experts call the sixth sense has initiated lively debate. His critics will dispute his results and dismiss them as inaccurate or subject to bias, however, his views are controversial not because of the results he has achieved, but because he presents his findings and his suggested explanation of the results as a biologist. Sheldrake devised a test to explore the sixth sense and in particular the ability to sense the gaze of another person without knowledge of their presence. Many people report the experience of being stared at by someone or something unseen and describe the uncanny feeling that occurs. Sheldrake placed individuals on opposite sides of a window so that smell or sound could have no influence over the experiment. The ‘starer’ on one side and the ‘stared-at’ on the other, the individual who was to be stared at was also blindfolded. The individual designated to stare at the subject was directed to stare at them only at the chance prompt determined by random number tables. The stared at individuals were asked to let Sheldrake know when they believed they were being gazed upon, or not. Sheldrake figured that the study participants should at least score correctly 50% of the time it they were to guess. However throughout the course of the experiment some individuals consistently scored a 90% accuracy. Critics of the tests argued that the high scoring guessers unfairly influenced the overall results. But even when Sheldrake re-worked the figures so as not to emphasize individual scores, more participants scored higher than lower. He concluded that many of us possess an ability to sense ‘stares’ without the usual input of sight, smell, touch or hearing. The controversial part of his theory is in his belief that the results can be explained by the presence of a field that is generated between the spied and spied upon. Such assertions by a biologist are “heresy”, despite the fact, as Sheldrake stated, that a connection between the observer and observed are acknowledged in 20th century physics. The results of the study are interesting because, while they may not prove anything conclusive as such, they would seem to corroborate or support the anecdotal evidence that has existed for years – that something intangible seems to join people together. This bond manifests itself in many and varied ways. It is often seen in twins, especially those who are identical, although the phenomena noticed by some twins occurs also between individuals connected in other ways and sometimes between individuals who share no knowledge of one another at all. The anticipation of what somebody is going to say, thinking the same thoughts at the same time, the recognition of who is phoning before the call is taken, even shared experiences, such as the experience of pain felt simultaneously by two people are but a few of the ways in which people can seem to be linked together. The fact that science has not proven what thousands, or perhaps millions of people throughout the ages have reported to have validity does not disprove it. In fact the connection between human beings is only a small part of a greater sense of unity thought to exist between all living things. Various research has shown that plants and animals also share an interconnectedness, not only with people, but also with one another. There are numerous accounts and research to back this up. In Africa the kudu antelope browses on any one tree or bush for only one or two minutes before moving on to another and then another. Investigators have found that while the animal may be tempted to simply continue to eat from the same bush until it is stripped of its leaves, the trees have a chemical defense system that will not allow this. While feeding, the animals clumsily break branches in the process. Attempting to imitate the manner in which this occurs Wouter van Hoven, a physiologist at the University of Pretoria, took his students on tree beating expeditions. Having first quietly approached a tree to take a leaf sample, he then encouraged his students to descend on the tree with an assortment of belts, whips and canes to thrash the plants, damaging and stripping their leaves. The scientists then took further samples at regular intervals. The results were dramatic. All the abused trees produced extra tannin and moved the tannin into the leaves within minutes of the first attack. After 15 minutes the levels of tannin in one variety had risen by 44% and in another the increase was as much as 76%, in a third, 94%. An hour after being beaten the chemical contents in the leaves of wattles had risen by 256% and in other cases soared to 282% above normal levels. In some cases as much as 100 hours had to pass for the plants to return to a state of equilibrium. Under usual circumstances the rush of tannin to the leaves regulates the taste of the leaves to such an extent that the animal is repelled and forced to move on. If high fences are erected to force the animals into a narrow feeding band, despite their bellies full of leaves the animals eventually die of starvation because the high concentrations of tannin have made the food indigestible. Further studies using control plants that were deliberately not abused showed that plants that were in close proximity to abused plants increased their levels of tannin, as if to exercise a sympathetic union with harassed counterparts. If one tree is beaten (in this case) by an enthusiastic student another not ten feet away will have produced 14% more tannin within the hour. These examples illustrate the connections between plants and animals but also demonstrate the connection amongst plants. How did the plants know to produce the tannin and how did the plants near the abused ones recognize the threat and subsequently produce more tannin? The explanation must reach beyond a simple assertion that the connection is biological. A plant’s ability to sense violence in close proximity and to respond so immediately would have to be based on something that we cannot define. Dare we say it, there would seem to be some otherworldly or even psychic link responsible for these aspects of synchronicity. But it would be wrong to summarize the manifestation under the heading of phenomena, for the connotations of abnormality usually associated with this term might do the whole business of this interconnectedness an injustice. If the natural world exhibits such a high degree of this connectivity and if it is equally acknowledged, albeit by lay people and only a segment of the scientific world, by people everywhere and in all cultures, then it might well be a feature of human existence intended to be much more consciously recognized than what it has come to be. Science will continue to shy away from that which not only cannot be explained but that which, should it happened to be explained, would prove to be an embarrassment to the scientific community or indeed that which will prove to be very unscientific in its explanation. Obviously suggestions of oneness, spiritual union and the workings of unseen forces are just a little too hot to handle for most down to earth scientists. Perhaps like many other significant periods of change, transformation must come from the will of the people. For as much as science might like to think so, it does not dictate to the people, but rather the people determine what they are and what they are not ready for. Wayfarer International, Copyright © John & Melody Anderson, 1997 - 1999. All rights reserved. The Scent of a Woman (June 1997) The sense of smell is one of nature's gifts, a gift that is designed as an aid to perceptions of the world. When we lose it, we lose much more. Some months ago, we were walking through a car park outside a block of shops on our way to a restaurant for lunch. As we passed by one of the parked cars the smell of something putrid emanated from the trunk. We looked at one another and joked ‘there’s probably a dead body in there’. Glancing at an old paper we’d saved for research recently, an article caught our attention. In an apartment above another block of shops, just a few miles away from that restaurant, a young woman was murdered by her boyfriend, choked in a headlock and strangled with a vacuum cleaner cord. She lay face down on the floor in the master bedroom for ten days or so until her rapidly decomposing body was carried downstairs by her assailant and his friends to spend a further five weeks undiscovered – in the trunk of his car. Six people apparently knew about the killing but despite this, life went on as usual while the body deteriorated in the bedroom, an associate of the murderer even moving into the place to help his friend out. Between the two they managed to ignore the body while continuing to look after the 20-month-old daughter of the murdered woman. One very surprising fact in this case is the assertion of the murderer’s friend that the body did not smell. Just what does it take to live in a home in the full knowledge of such a killing in the presence of a rapidly rotting body? Just what does a person have to do to themselves in order to contend with these circumstances? It’s quite possible that the sort of shift in one’s state of being required in order to endure this is the same sort of shift that could enable a normal and rational individual to kill another human being. It isn’t possible to shut down the sensitivity of one of the senses and not affect the others at least to some degree or other. In the normal course of life when people experience this sort of shutdown the effects are not confined to one area alone. It seems likely that in order to take the life of another person a certain amount of shutting down has to occur. It seems that we have an inborn sense of abhorrence to the notion of killing other people against their will, it’s almost instinctive. To dismiss the inherent sense that killing in this manner is not right, an individual must reduce his or her degree of awareness in such a way that these feelings cannot interfere with the act. To then go on living in the same environment without feelings of remorse or even revulsion and to be oblivious to what must possibly be one of the most unbearable odors imaginable requires an extreme state of desensitization. It is easy to respond with disbelief when reading of such a story and yet this process of desensitization happens to all of us in varying degrees within our daily lives. Perhaps not to the extent that we are capable of killing, but enough in most cases to dramatically reduce quality of life. And probably worst of all, we can become desensitized without even knowing that it’s happening. We can become incapable of feeling and not realize what we have become. These processes often occur so slowly and gradually that the change is indistinguishable to us and we can go on believing that we are unchanging. Sometimes the realization of what we have lost floods our consciousness accompanied also by the recognition that it’s too late to go back and retrieve it. But not all desensitization is permanent. Numerous instances of the reversal of this process are common. Within the circumstances of an argument with a partner or a friend it is relatively easy to reach the stage where the situation has gone too far and we find ourselves in a state of such rigidity that it can only be defined by an absence of feeling. It is a sort of unmoving unfeeling state of defiance where we have become so shut down that often we have even lost sight of what originally motivated the disagreement. Many people who work in the midst of offensive smells, slaughter-houses or sewerage treatment plants for example, will often experience permanent reduction of the ability to smell due to a gradual desensitization which takes place as a means simply of coping with the unpleasantness of the working environment. (Although, habituation can also be a factor here, where the body has its own manner of dealing with continuing stimuli). Unfortunately the ability to sense does not return when they finish work but goes on to reduce the quality of their home life and their social lives as well. This problem would seem to be a particularly difficult one to solve because its very nature, the lack of feeling, interferes with the awareness of the existence of the problem. How do we know how much we can feel? How can we be aware of the lack of something? Essentially we can’t. But what we can do is to embrace the conscious appreciation of what we can feel, in a physical and an emotional sense and allow the recognition of our senses to naturally encourage a more acute awareness of the special nature of our humanness. If we appreciate the ability we have to express our humanity we are less likely to so readily sacrifice it. Wayfarer International, Copyright © John & Melody Anderson, 1997 - 2002. All rights reserved.