44 pages • 1 hour read
James R. DotyA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
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Into the Magic Shop is both a guide to meditative practices and an illustration of the ways those practices can transform a person’s life. The promise of change is in fact what initially intrigues Doty about Ruth’s offer; as a child surrounded by poverty, alcoholism, and mental illness, Doty sees Ruth’s promise to help him “make anything [he] want[s] actually appear” as perhaps his only hope of avoiding the kind of life his parents lead (23).
Of course, Doty initially struggles to see the connection between meditation and manifesting his desires. As Ruth says, techniques like total body relaxation aim first and foremost to change a person’s inner reality, not to alter the world around them: “There are a lot of things in life we can’t control. [...] But you can control your body and you can control your mind” (48). What Doty realizes is that meditation changes the practitioner in ways that enhance their ability to impact external reality. Doty’s self-affirming mantras offer an example of this dynamic in action. By practicing self-affirmation, Doty bolsters his sense of himself as a unique and worthy individual, which in turn helps him disentangle his own future from his family’s: “I [...] had clarity that […] [my family’s] actions were not mine. [...] I had absolute faith in what Ruth had taught me, and absolute trust that my future was rushing to meet me” (144-145). On an even more practical level, relaxation and mindfulness prove invaluable to Doty’s pursuit of a career in medicine—a field that requires calm under pressure and the ability to focus for extended periods of time.
Doty thus credits much of meditation’s efficacy to neuroplasticity; much of meditation’s real-world impact flows from the way it rewires the practitioner’s brain. This is true even of Ruth’s final technique—the one she promises will allow Doty to make his dreams come true as if by magic. Practiced regularly, visualizing a particular outcome changes the brain in a way that makes the practitioner more likely to actually pursue that outcome: “[The brain] will always choose what is familiar over what is unfamiliar. By visualizing my own future success, I was making this success familiar to my brain” (135). In other words, if Doty had not become so used to thinking of himself as a doctor, he might not have pushed hard to become one at critical junctures. Neuroplasticity is arguably a factor even in outcomes that would seem largely out of Doty’s control. The self-confidence Doty has made into a habit not only enables him to advocate for himself, but likely influences the way the premed committee sees him on a subconscious level; self-assurance (in moderation) is a trait others tend to respond positively to.
All that said, both Ruth and Doty suggest that scientific, cause-and-effect explanations fail to fully capture the transformative power of meditation. Doty’s first experience of visualization at work is a good example; the goal Doty is working towards—avoiding eviction—is entirely out of Doty’s hands, and yet reality plays out just as he’s imagined and hoped. It is this sort of outcome that leads Doty, a self-described atheist, to argue that meditation taps into and relies on an “energy” beyond normal human experience:
The energy of the universe is within us. […] All that power of creation. All that power of expansion. All that beautiful, simple, synchronized power. Energy can flow from one place to another. And it can flow from one person to another (150).
This energy, the book implies, is part of what gives meditation its ability to change lives.
As much as Into the Magic Shop is a story about surmounting obstacles through the power of visualization, it’s also a cautionary tale about prioritizing material success over human connection. For much of his life, Doty sees Ruth’s teachings as a means to an end. He struggles to see the value in techniques not immediately geared towards the attainment of his goals, and fails to understand why Ruth places so much emphasis on compassion. As a result, he spends decades focusing on wealth and status; in his mid-forties, he’s preparing to buy the private island he’s dreamed of owning since he was 12.
The problem isn’t that visualization necessarily fails when applied to the pursuit of fame or fortune; thanks to his investment in Accuray, Doty actually surpasses his childhood goal of becoming a millionaire many times over. Of course, the speed with which Doty loses this fortune offers another possible argument against prioritizing anything as precarious as material success: Doty might be able to manifest wealth, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be able to keep it. Ultimately, the book’s critique of the desire for money and power is much more fundamental and centers on the notion that something is missing in Doty’s life long before he goes bankrupt. Doty’s personal ambitions have at best caused him to neglect interpersonal relationships, and at worst actively exacerbated them; as a resident, for instance, his “smug” belief in his own exceptionality alienates many of his colleagues (188). Meanwhile, Doty’s relationship to himself is not much better. As confident as he might appear to others, not even the knowledge that he has millions of dollars at his disposal is enough to allay the sense of insecurity he has struggled with since childhood: “[T]here was never enough money to make me feel like I had enough” (225).
What Doty eventually realizes is that this dissatisfaction stems from a mistaken idea about what makes life fulfilling. As he comes to understand, a sense of connectedness to others—friendship, altruism, love, etc.—is crucial to both mental and physical well-being: “[W]e evolved to be cooperative and connected with one another—and when this is cut off, we get sick. [...] In truth, isolation and loneliness puts us at a greater risk for early disease and death than smoking” (232). With that in mind, it isn’t surprising that Ruth consistently emphasized the importance of “opening the heart” and thinking lovingly of others before setting goals; skipping this step increases the probability of hurting other people and oneself, since individual and collective happiness are intertwined. Similarly, the book argues that the practice of compassion must also involve self-compassion, because it’s this clear-eyed but forgiving form of introspection that allows for an honest reckoning of one’s motivations and goals. Doty, for instance, might not have chased wealth as he did if he had recognized earlier on the extent to which childhood trauma was still driving his decisions.
Even as it offers readers a way to manifest their desires, Into the Magic Shop therefore cautions them to think of meditation not as a way of imposing their will on the outside world, but of becoming more attuned to the reality all people share. As Doty puts it, “Yes, we can create anything we want, but it is only the intelligence of the heart that can tell us what’s worth creating” (231).
What sets Into the Magic Shop apart from many other books on meditation is the professional knowledge Doty brings to bear on the subject. In presenting Ruth’s techniques to readers, Doty also explains the physiology behind those methods, focusing in particular on his area of expertise: the brain and nervous system. For instance, Doty discusses the body’s fight-or-flight response, as well as the rationale for overriding it with relaxation techniques: “Living in a state of prolonged stress has all sorts of psychological and physiological repercussions—anger, depression, anxiety, chest pain, headaches, insomnia, and a suppressed immune system” (50-51).
Doty, however, is only able to offer these kinds of explanations in retrospect, as he reflects on his lessons with Ruth. This is partly because he hadn’t attended medical school at the time, but it’s also a reflection of the state of neuroscience in the 1960s. For most of the 20th century, the wiring and function of the brain were thought to be inalterable; the idea of neuroplasticity—that practices like Ruth’s could actually “change [the] brain by creating new neural circuits” (97)—was a relatively fringe theory. This is what Doty means when he says that Ruth’s lessons “did what, at that time, many would have said was impossible” (26); they transformed the way in which he habitually thought in a way medicine at the time would have struggled to explain.
Doty’s experiences with Ruth therefore serve as a reminder of the limitations of science; for its era, Ruth’s “intuitive sense” of the brain’s functioning is in some respects more accurate than the scientific consensus (97). Despite this, Doty himself is slow to accept an attitude of humility in the face of the brain’s complexity; as a resident in neurosurgery, he comes to believe that “[t]he brain rule[s] all [...] and [he] rule[s] the brain” (190). It isn’t until his near-fatal accident that Doty realizes there are some neurological mysteries he may not be able to solve. Although he offers possible physiological explanations for the near death experience he had while on the operating table, he suggests that these theories are in some sense failing to reckon with the most significant aspect of NDEs: the subjective, emotional experience of oneness and love. Doty implies that the very urge to “solve” such experiences can be misguided (202), noting that he himself felt no such need in the aftermath of the accident.
It’s this willingness to accept a certain level of uncertainty that characterizes the book’s overall attitude toward the human mind. As Doty acknowledges, many aspects of the brain’s functioning remain elusive—in particular, its capacity for consciousness. Self-awareness—or what Doty describes as “thinking about thinking” (77)—is the cornerstone of Ruth’s teachings, but the relationship between the physical brain and the conscious mind is still poorly understood. As an atheist, Doty doesn’t necessarily associate the mind with a soul in the traditional sense. Nevertheless, he remains opens to the possibility that there is a spiritual (or at least non-physical) component to the brain or mind: “I thought often of my experience with Ruth and my experience after my car accident and found that I could have an open mind, be dogma-free, and still know that there is more to this life than I can explain” (247).