Blogging on the Brain

I’ve found myself struggling recently with something that I haven’t really thought about in a long time – actually, I’m not sure I’ve ever thought about in reference to myself before – curiosity. I’ve always (sort of by default, I guess) considered myself a curious person. I like knowing how things (especially biological things) work, I loved my liberal arts education because I got to take literature classes at the same time as chemistry, etc.

flickr cc by fotologic

Recently, however, I’ve noticed that my interest in most things outside of my discipline has been waning. I find myself making giant lists of great books that I should read and things I should learn how to do (play piano, train my dog, etc.) and then never getting to it. This isn’t, as I first thought, because I was too busy. I am pretty busy, but I’d be embarrassed to admit how many hours I’ve managed to find to watch the Olympics in the last two weeks. I think I have the time, but I just don’t seem to care very much. When I get home after a long day in lab/teaching, I want to grab a glass of wine and pretty much sit as still as possible on my couch for the rest of the evening.

This is worrisome to me. I’m really hoping is no more than a result of graduate school burnout, but what happens if it’s not? Can I purposefully go about re-kindling my own curiosity in things? I still very much enjoy learning about new things/ideas as long as it doesn’t take much effort on my part (for instance, if you sit me down and tell me about something new, I’m generally very happy to know about it), I just can’t seem to find the motivation to go out of my way to pursue new interests even if I think I’ll enjoy it once I do.

I have no idea if this is a common occurrence, or whether it’s a one-time change (I was a curious person, and I am now no longer a curious person) or just a phase (I was a curious person, and I will be once again…someday…when I finish my PhD). And on a bigger scale, if this is common, what can be done to keep this from happening to graduate students? Anything? Or are we just destined to have all our academic vigor sucked out of us by the time we’re in candidacy? I guess only time will tell.

Here’s a recent article from the Washington Post related to some of my dissertation work in autism. The article talks about a study in which autistic adults took the hormone oxytocin (primarily known for its role in pair bonding) in a nasal spray, and on a subsequent test performed better at tasks involving social interaction and facial recognition. Pretty cool stuff.

In the past, oxytocin (OT) has been used to treat another main symptom category in autism spectrum disorders: repetitive movements. So this new study in addition to that information is now strongly pointing us in the OT direction as far as research and clinical trials.

Obviously this is just one study, so cautious optimism is suggested – certainly until we can replicate the study in a larger trial (as well as considering the efficacy in children). But hey, cautious optimism is still optimism, right?

I had heard at some point that one of my favorite books (also the subject of the reading group I’m leading), The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, was adapted into an opera. I suppose this makes some sort of sense, given the connection Dr. P (the subject of the story) feels to music. In a funny twist of  providence, I was looking into seeing an opera at the encouragement of my husband’s great Aunt Mary, who was herself an opera singer in the 1940s and 50s. I began my search at the Austin Lyric Opera – and to my very great surprise, found that they will be performing The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat in July!

The performances are July 9, 10, & 11 and it looks like tickets run anywhere from $20 to $200. I’d love to get a group of people together to go see it (I’ll certainly be going – albeit most likely with a $20 ticket) – hopefully I’ll get some reading-group participants to come as well. If you’re interested (or have seen it) let me know!