I was just listening to a wide-ranging and fascinating interview with Dr. Alok Kanojia (Dr. K), discussing how to liberate the body from the weight of past traumas. He made an incredible comment around the 2 hour mark, where he mentioned — quite in passing — that habit formation is regulated by the endocannabinoid system.
I’ve discussed the endocannabinoid system ECS before in this newsletter, as the system that promotes overall regulation in our body. And I’ve discussed how the medical research on autism is pointing to the ECS as the primary driver of the symptoms of autism.
So it’s incredible to hear that there has been research into the role of the ECS in habit formation. Because our habits are the way we automate our lives. And without automation, everything is manual. You have to do everything the hard way. It’s exhausting.
Sound familiar?
And indeed, with a quick google search I was able to find literature on the role of the ECS in habit formation. Habitual actions, they found, occupy an entirely different region of the brain (the so-called orbitofrontal cortext or OFC) than novel actions do (the anterior cyngulate cortex in the frontal lobe). And the operation of the OFC is regulated by the ECS (via the well-known CB1 receptor).
In our highly automated world, full of high-performing and highly automated people, having a struggling ECS is tantamount to failure. Because we’ve built a system that requires us to produce, relentlessly. And having great personal automation is just table stakes for that relentless culture. How hard can you grind before you break?
In our highly automated world … having a struggling ECS is tantamount to failure
Dr. K astutely observes that our biggest toxicities come from our own lack of stillness. And I felt that statement in my bones, I did. Stillness is utterly uncomfortable for me. If not terrifying. I often distract myself to avoid the discomfort I feel when I’m alone with myself.
Perhaps because, for years upon years, decades upon decades, I was driving a manual transmission while everyone around me was driving an automatic. And I wondered to myself why I got so exhausted in the stop-and-go traffic of our busy, relentless metropolis. And I resigned myself to a life of having a sore right leg from all the work I was doing on the clutch. Here I had this machine with such exquisite control, marching relentlessly in unison, never exploring the heights of its powers. A race car is not designed for bumper-to-bumper traffic.
A race car is not designed for bumper-to-bumper traffic.
But when I resigned myself to that discomfort, I lost a little part of myself. The part that had to be silenced, lest the whole of me be infected by this one part in agony. I didn’t know how to help that part, and I felt I had to silence it in order to persist. I persisted, but I made a sacrifice to do so.
When I resigned myself to that discomfort, I lost a little part of myself.
So the way I see it, I need to do what I can to nourish this struggling system in my body called the ECS. And I also need to acknowledge the trauma I’ve experienced living in a world that requires so much effortless personal automation.
Dr. K goes on to draw the connection between trauma and difficulty with planning for the future. Because when we were traumatized we lost our agency, our control over whether we were in pain or not. And in the absence of control, you just have to survive. What’s the point in planning when your world could be turned upside down the next day anyway? That’s how my trauma makes me feel.
So learning the skills of planning and goal-setting starts with … hope. Some indication that I can improve upon my experience through my actions. And then I can start to get comfortable with the future again.
PS …
If you’re interested in working with me to nourish your endocannabinoid system, or you have a loved one you’d like to explore medicinal cannabis for, fill out this quick intake form and I’ll get right back to you.