Imagine scientists reveal they’ve created a basic computer from meat that can solve mazes or handle simple arithmetic with reasonable accuracy. That would be a fascinating and slightly eerie story, right?
What’s even more astonishing is that you’re reading this using your brain—a much more complex “meat computer.” Your brain, made mostly of protein and fat, somehow makes sense of the world around it. It even needs electricity to work and does so in a wet environment, which seems quite improbable. Yet, here we are. Not only are you able to read this article, but these meat-based computers designed and built the device you’re reading it on, along with the communication networks that let you access this article from anywhere in the world. Right now, meat-based computers are using robots to explore space and even other planets.
I’m highlighting how incredible and absurd it is that our brains work at all because we often expect too much from ourselves. We want to meditate and feel calm but face a stream of thoughts. We try to remember important information but forget. We aim to be patient but lose our tempers. We seek happiness but often feel dissatisfied.
Expecting perfection sets us up for failure because our brains are quirky, fragile, and unreliable. They malfunction when they’re low on fuel, overloaded with information, or not sufficiently rested (six to eight hours of sleep a day). Under these conditions, they not only perform poorly on tasks like memory but can also create a sense of being under attack or a narrative of inadequacy.
You’re going to forget things, lose your temper, misinterpret messages, believe falsehoods, and make bad decisions. These things happen because your brain isn’t very effective.
When we expect perfection, these flaws disturb us. We might criticize ourselves (“How could I forget? I’m so stupid!”), deny our mistakes (“I didn’t need reminding—I was just about to do it!”), or deflect (“Well, you lost your keys three months ago!”). Life becomes easier when we accept that our meat-based computers don’t work perfectly and that mistakes are inevitable.
When I become irritable and yell because I’m overloaded (for example, cooking, helping my kids with homework, and checking messages), it helps to realize it’s not because the world is terrible or I’m failing as a parent. It’s just that my brain is low on glucose and trying to do too much. This makes it easier for me to forgive myself, manage my emotions, and adjust my behaviors to reduce stress.
I’m not saying, “Keep losing your temper because your brain is flawed.” Rather, don’t beat yourself up for being imperfect.
Understanding your brain’s weaknesses allows you to compensate for them. Knowing how finicky my brain is, I take better care of it. I ensure it gets enough sleep, stays fueled, and takes breaks. At key times, I disable notifications on my phone to avoid information overload. I meditate daily to help my brain function optimally.
We can extend this understanding to others. When someone forgets something, remind yourself that it’s normal. When a child or spouse is moody or behaving badly, consider that their brain might not have the ideal conditions to function well. With this perspective, we can be kinder and more supportive.
I hope you found something useful here to help make your internal environment more stable and efficient, and to build better relationships with others. In simpler terms, I hope this helps you live more happily and relate to others with more patience, kindness, and empathy.
Thank you for reading.