According to the neuroscientist Antonio Damasio’s “somatic marker hypothesis” we recognize we are about to make a bad decision long before we actually do it. Card players hooked up to sensors exhibited stress signals before admitting they knew the game was rigged. So you could say our “somatic self” has an intelligence faster than our thinking brain. This is especially useful when you get a “too good to be true” offer, or meet someone who gives you the creeps for no reason. 

So what happens when you totally ignore what your body Is telling you because your mind won’t admit you made a bad decision? 

There’s an old folk tale about a simple shepherd whose wife sends him to market, with a list, telling him with any money left over to buy himself a treat. He spies a vendor selling a spectacular looking red fruit, but has only a few cents left. “How much can I get for this?” he holds out his hand. The ecstatic vendor gives him the entire bunch. The shepherd is delighted at his potential lunch. Around halfway home, he sits down to his feast, and bites into the red fruit. It of course is a red hot pepper. He chews and swallows, one, then another, sweating and choking. A passerby stops and says, “Man, what are you doing? Those hot peppers will kill you!’ 
“I don’t care,” says the shepherd. “I bought them, and I’m eating them all.” 

Recently someone gifted me some trendy, hip sandals. I felt very cool. Young people (under 50) complimented me on my taste. I noticed other hipsters clad in the same shod splendor. 

They made my feet sweat. I told myself I was being ridiculous. Look at all those people happily clomplng in the same shoes. An ache began near my big toe joint, where I already have a bunion. Now that I think of it, that bunion appeared after another bad shoe choice in the 80’s. They were red shoes. I shake off the image of Moira Shearer madly dancing across the silver screen,trapped in her red shoes. No.  I can take them off anytime. But I don’t, because I am a fashionista.  And then the pinky side of my foot starts to ache and burn. 

How often do we start on a path, realize we’re heading for disaster, but keep plowing ahead because…

When is it better to quit? To reverse? To admit I made a mistake? I think of the old comedians, Laurel and Hardy who made a career out of making bad choices. At the end of episodes, Oliver would look at Stanley and say, “Well that’s another nice mess you’ve gotten us into,“ never once acknowledging his complicity in the debacle. 

If anyone needs a trendy pair of size 6 ½ sandals and has young feet, let me know.