Consider what has been learned about shyness—a temperamental style characteristic of William James, Virginia Woolf, and so many others who have uncovered the mysteries of emotion. Early in life shy individuals show evidence of a hyperactive fear system, or HPA axis, which shapes their patterns of relationships and life choices. We know this thanks to the longitudinal studies of Harvard psychologist Jerome Kagan. Kagan has identified very shy infants at four months of age according to their fearful, distressed reactions to novel toys. Fast-forward seven years to Kagan’s observations of these children in social groups: Shy children identified at age four months are most likely to be those two or three children in grammar-school classes who hover at the edges of the playground, observing and analyzing rather than engaging in the pyrotechnic face-to-face dynamics of that age (my bet is that a disproportionate number of writers fit this profile). Shy children have stronger stress reactions (elevated heart rate, pupil dilation, cortisol response) when hearing fiction being read or when engaging in complex cognitive tasks. And these same individuals, at age twenty-one, when in an fMRI scanner and presented with slides of faces they had not seen, show stronger activation in the amygdala. When Avshalom Caspi studied the adult lives of shy individuals, he found, fitting with the analysis here, that shy individuals took almost 2 additional years, compared to more outgoing types, to enter into marriage, and they also took longer to settle upon a stable job. That fearful 4 month old, startled and distressed at the presence of a new toy, fight or flight physiology throbbing in the veins and throughout the body, is likely to lead a life of restraint, inhibition, and hesitation in the face of intimacy.
If the vagus nerve is a caretaking organ, then one would expect individuals with elevated vagus nerve activity to enjoy rich networks of social connection, to show highly responsive caretaking behavior, and for compassion to be at the center of their emotional lives. New studies are finding this to be the case. In one study, Chris Oveis and I brought Berkeley undergraduates to our lab in October and had their vagus nerve activity measured (deriving a measure known as vagal tone) while they sat quietly and comfortably in a resting state. Our interest was in tracking the lives of people with elevated vagus nerve activity in a resting state—vagal superstars. When they returned to the lab seven months later, we found that our vagal superstars, compared to those individuals with low baseline vagal tone, reported elevated levels of the trait extraversion, which is defined by high levels of social energy, friendships, and social contacts, and agreeableness, which is defined by great warmth, kindness, and a love of others. People with elevated baseline vagal tone also reported more optimism, general positive mood, and better physical health seven months later. And when presented with images of harm and beauty, they reported greater compassion and awe—their minds were more active in the aesthetic realm.
Perhaps most dramatically, we found that the vagal superstars showed an increased propensity for transformative experiences of the sacred. Approximately three months after we had assessed baseline vagus nerve activity, we e-mailed our participants, asking them the following question: “While going through college, people sometimes have experiences that have an important impact on their sense of meaning and purpose, or how they see themselves or the world. Since coming in for your initial lab visit for this project, can you please describe any experiences of this kind you have had?” Sixty-five percent of participants reported such a transformative experience during the three-month period between the initial lab visit and the e-mail query. There were accounts of nature, of going to a political rally, of hearing an inspiring person speak about global warming or free markets, of relatives and friends passing away and the contemplation of death, of being engaged in spiritual practice. This age is a fertile time of expansion and transformation. Here are a couple of examples:
“I went to winter camp with my church. We stayed in the mountains for four days…. There was a guest speaker there who gave a very powerful message on the last night. It made me feel like God had a plan for me.”
“After my father’s passing, I pondered what is the purpose of life. It changed me in that I’m closer to my family and I’m more responsible than before.”
When we coded these transformation narratives, the central theme that emerged was a shift toward increased connection with others, an inclination to sacrifice, to be altruistic. And, yes, our high vagal tone individuals were more likely to report this kind of transformative experience.