WHY OUR BRAIN CHOOSES WHAT IT CHOOSES

I’ve always loved open fields.

Not the manicured ones. Not a resort lawn. The patchy, uneven kind. The one with stones, insects, some stubborn grass still growing after summer heat. The kind that feels real. The kind I grew up running on when school wasn't calling and holidays meant nothing but sunlight and time.

A few weeks back, I stepped into one such field again — early morning, no noise, just myself and that fresh earthy smell that sits low to the ground. I wasn’t there to meditate or unlock deep wisdom. I just walked because the house air felt stale and my head felt full. Five minutes in, the mind started slowing down like it suddenly found its favourite chair.

Nothing dramatic. Just breath finding its rhythm.

That moment didn’t end when I left the field. It stayed like a quiet companion the entire day. And this question kept tapping inside —

Why does my brain relax here without effort? Why do trees calm me quicker than breathing exercises? Why does silence between leaves feel like something I once knew?

I didn’t get answers immediately. But thinking didn’t stop.

Later that evening when I reached for dessert after dinner — no hunger, just instinct — a second question joined the first:

Why do sweets win without negotiation? Why is gulab jamun always easier than lemon?

Two different moments. One body. Same brain.So I followed the thread.

If greenery calms me for a reason, if sugar pulls me for a reason, then maybe my brain has reasons for every other strange habit I have. Maybe behaviour isn’t random. Maybe preference isn’t choice. Maybe I am living with instincts older than civilisation.

That thought opened the floodgate.

And this blog started there — not on laptop, not inside outline, but while taking a walk among grass that didn’t know it was teaching me.

“Not all learning begins in books — some begin in a quiet walk among trees.”

THE ANCIENT BRAIN INSIDE A MODERN BODY

Let’s start where it all started — survival.Our brain is around two lakh years old. Cities are maybe 6,000 years old. Instagram is 12–13 years old. So when a situation appears, the brain doesn’t respond as a modern machine. It responds like a hunter-gatherer who still hasn’t fully understood Wi-Fi but knows berries and fire quite well.

Let’s talk about greenery first.Why does green feel safe?Why does nature restore us faster than a spa?

Because green meant survival. Where there was green, there was water. Where there was water, there was life. Our ancestors built homes near vegetation. They ate there. They rested there. Generations carried this association like inheritance.

Even today, when my eye sees a bunch of trees or a field or a hillside, some part of the brain whispers —stay here, you will be okay.

A long drive to Ooty makes you happy before you even unpack. Hill stations become therapy without therapist. We stand in fields and the body behaves like it’s returned to mother tongue.

Green isn’t visual pleasure. It’s biological recognition.

One line fits here well: “Where there is green, there is life — the brain never forgets that.”

WHY SWEETS SMELL LIKE COMFORT & NOT CHILDISHNESS

Fruit was seasonal. Honey was dangerous to collect. Carbohydrates were life-saving calories.

So sweetness became reward. Reward became survival strategy.

Our tastebuds evolved in famine, not in dessert shops. Which is why children naturally prefer sweet over sour — sweetness kept ancestors alive long enough to produce offspring. Sourness meant doubt. Unripe fruit. Possible illness. The brain learnt to be cautious about it.

We think we love sugar. But it’s two lakh years of hunger celebrating victory.

“Sweets are not temptation — they're survival memory resurfacing.”

Now imagine this:

I’m sitting after lunch, not even hungry, but someone brings payasam. Hand moves automatically. Brain says — take it, energy matters. This memory is older than civilisation, so no nutrition seminar can kill it.

You can laugh, but the brain is serious about dessert.

FEAR — THE SECURITY GUARD WE NEVER FIRED

One day at home, near my flowerpot, something moved sharply. I didn't check species or colour. I didn’t evaluate threat level. I didn’t think at all. My legs took full authority and moved me away like they had no time to consult management.

That is fear doing what evolution hired it for.

We are alive because ancestors reacted fast. Those who took time to analyse danger didn’t survive long enough to contribute genes. So today even a plastic snake can trigger a mini-heart attack because the brain doesn't want to risk verification. It would rather look foolish than dead.

THE RAIN-SMELL THAT BRINGS BACK A WHOLE CHILDHOOD

Rain hits soil. Petrichor rises. Smell travels to brain before logic understands. Straight into the emotional centre. No middle manager.

Suddenly I think of school bags drying near window, muddy slippers, tea after getting drenched, grandparents telling stories, cousins running wild. All this appears without concentration. Rain does it with one sniff.

Smell is the shortest bridge to memory.

WHY THE BEACH RESETS THE MIND

Stand near the ocean for ten minutes. Thought slows down on its own.

Waves come with rhythm. Rhythm meets the nervous system. Breath starts syncing. Stress spreads like ink in water — thinner, lighter.

Pain doesn't leave. It just becomes spacious. Sometimes we don’t need solutions. We just need width inside the head.

The sea gives that.

And I think that's why we travel to beaches even when we have nothing specific to do there. We don’t go to solve problems. We go to stop carrying them tightly.

Some problems don’t need answers — they need coastline.

WHY RAIN, GREEN, SUGAR, OCEAN — EVERYTHING CAN BE EXPLAINED

Because behavior is not present-taught. It’s past-inherited.

Our brain is a warrior trained in forests, waterbanks, fireside conversations, scarcity, predators, community. But we place it today inside traffic, screens, deadlines, fluorescent lights and ask it to perform like a calculator.

The mismatch is funny when we look closely —I am a creature built for rivers, living inside Gmail.

NOW LET’S ENTER THE REST OF THE BRAIN — STEP BY STEP

HUGS HEAL MORE THAN ADVICE

You hug someone you love — five seconds in, your heartbeat steadies. If it's a mother-child hug, even faster. Because safety used to be skin-to-skin contact. Touch exchanged warmth. Warmth meant group. Group meant survival.

Words convince the head. Hugs convince the body.

WHY FOOD BECOMES MEMORY

Taste meets hippocampus. Taste meets emotion. Suddenly sambar rice reminds you of grandmother’s kitchen. One bite is enough to travel ten years without ticket.

Taste is time travel.

WHY JUNK FOOD IS HARD TO STOP

Because it’s everything nature never offered in one place — sugar, fat, salt, crunch, flavour shockwave. The brain sees fries like jackpot.

That’s why we say 'just three chips' and finish the packet like we never promised anything.

WHY WE SEEK APPROVAL MORE THAN LOGICALLY NECESSARY

Tribal life needed acceptance. Outcast meant vulnerability. Approval meant survival.

So one Instagram like can lift mood. One ignored message can ruin an evening.

Our nervous system believes group opinion decides safety. In a way, it once did.

WHY GOSSIP SPREADS LIKE FIRE

Because gossip was once survival news. Who betrayed whom, who gathered food, who stole resources, who threatened harmony — these stories helped communities stay alive.

Office gossip is just ancient tribal radio.

WHY FESTIVALS FEEL ELECTRIC

Lights, drums, dance, food, family, repetition, movement —dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin —The brain sees festival as proof that tribe still exists.

That's why loneliness on a festival day hurts more than a normal day.The brain expects community and celebration.Absence feels like gap in bone.

WHY SILENCE MAKES SOME PEOPLE UNCOMFORTABLE

For thousands of years, forests were filled with constant cues — wind, insects, water, crickets, voices. Silence meant either predator nearby or abandonment.So some minds panic in quiet rooms.

WHY PROCRASTINATION IS NOT STUPIDITY

Energy must be saved until danger or task becomes urgent. The brain waits until last minute because urgency means importance. Assignment that sat untouched for six days becomes rocket-speed on day seven.

Delayed action is old survival economics.

WHY NATURE HEALS FASTER THAN SCREENS

Screens are new. Nature is original software. When we walk under trees, the brain stops defending and starts restoring.

THE WALK THAT STARTED ALL OF THIS

I stepped into a field that morning with a simple mood — tired brain, heavy air, just needed to feel open for a bit. I returned with a map of myself. Every leaf, every raindrop, every sweet craving, every fear response, every hug, every festival laugh — all of it made sense like an old story I had forgotten to reread.

We live in 2025, but we think in stone age.

Not as weakness. Just as inheritance.

“The brain is not new. Life is.”

I write this blog like someone who opened a small door in the mind and found a forest behind it. Not everything needs fixing. Some things need understanding. When we know why we feel what we feel, life stops being confusing and starts being familiar.

Like that field.

Where I didn’t find answers —I remembered them.