When habit fails 211
habitual or subliminal state potentially dangerous. The change in your experience
can be outward, as when a child runs into the street in front of your car, or a family
member screams in pain from the next room, or you find your pleasant nocturnal
stroll interrupted by four young men with knifes; or it can be inward, as when you
suddenly realize that you have forgotten something (an appointment, your passport),
or that you have unthinkingly done something stupid or dangerous or potentially
embarrassing. When the change comes from the outside, there are usually physical
outlets for the sudden burst of energy you get from noradrenalin (which works like
an amphetamine) pumping through your body; when you suddenly realize that you
have just done something utterly humiliating there may be no immediate action
you can take, but your body responds the same way, producing enough noradrenalin
to turn you into a world-class sprinter.
Our brains are built to regulate the degree to which we are active or passive, alert
or sluggish, awake or asleep, etc. Brain scientists usually refer to the state of
alert consciousness as "arousal," and it is controlled by a nerve bundle at the core
of the brain stem (the oldest and most primitive part of our brains, which controls
the fight-or-flight reflex), called the reticular formation. When the reticular formation
is activated by axons bringing information of threat, concern, or anything else
requiring alertness and activity, it arouses the cerebral cortex with noradrenalin,
both directly and through the thalamus, the major way-station for information
traveling to the "higher thought" or analytical centers of the cerebral cortex. The
result is increased environmental vigilance (a monitoring of external stimuli) and a
shift into highly conscious reflective and analytical processes.
The translator's reticular activation is generally not as spectacular, physiologically
speaking, as some of the cases mentioned above. There is no sudden rush of fear,
shock, or embarrassment; the noradrenalin surge is small enough that it doesn't
generate the frantic need for physical activity, or the feeling of being about to
explode, of those more drastic examples. Still, many translators do react to reticular
activation with increased physical activity: they stand up and pace about restlessly;
they walk to their bookshelves, pull reference books off and flip through them,
tapping their feet impatiently (a good argument against getting those reference books
on CD-ROM, or finding on-line versions on the World Wide Web: it's good to have
an excuse to walk around the room!); they rock back violently in their chairs,
drumming their fingers on the armrests and staring intently out the window as if
expecting the solution to come flying i
n
by that route. Many feel a good deal of
frustration at their own inability to solve a problem, and will remain restless and
unable to sink fully back into the rapid subliminal state until the problem is solved:
it's the middle of the night and the client's tech writer isn't at work; the friends and
family members who might have been able to help aren't home, or don't know;
dictionaries and encyclopedias are no help ("Why didn't I go ahead and pay that
ludicrous price for a bigger and newer and more specialized dictionary?!"); every
minute that passes without a response from Lantra-L or FLEFO seems like an eternity.