The birth of consciousness…

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Think about consciousness for long enough, and you’ll drive yourself to distraction. To psychologist Julian Jaynes, the question of consciousness was big enough to last a lifetime. His answer? Consciousness is much smaller, much rarer, and much younger than we tend to think. Forget about wondering if a dog, cat, or earthworm has consciousness — Jaynes hypothesized that even the ancient Greeks failed to achieve it. “Now, hold on,” you might be saying. “Ancient Greeks wrote some of the most enduring literature of all time — ‘The Iliad’ and ‘The Odyssey’ were written by non-conscious creatures?” To which Jaynes would reply, “Of course not. A conscious mind wrote The Odyssey.” An analysis of these two texts inspired the foundation of Jaynes’ metaphysical beliefs — the bicameral mind.

The bicameral mind (which may sound familiar to “Westworld” fans) is essentially a consciousness split in half. One half takes care of execution: When it receives the message that the body is hungry, it seeks and consumes food; when it gets the message that it has been wronged and insulted, it seeks vengeance. The other half is the one that sends those messages. Back before we had developed any sort of introspection, those messages would have hit the brain like the word of the gods. After all, where else could it have come from? The breakdown of the bicameral mind happens when that executive half starts really asking that question and finding the answer is “nowhere.” In other words, Jaynes says, consciousness didn’t arise until we stopped attributing our inner monologue to the gods. (1)

Trying to answer the big questions.

Trying to understand.

This is what started everything.

In the beginning we just accepted the cosmos.

Being an integral and active part of it.

But at one point we decided to leave home.

And deny our Father.

We wanted to “know”.

And the only way to do that was via defining everything else as “different” than us; thus, compatible with analysis and examination. We used to be part of the cosmos. Defining the universe while the universe defined us. Now we still see the stars. But as something distant. Longing to go there, even though we used to be walking on the Sun. Afraid that we will die if we touch them, while we used to play with them as kids.

Lying down on a forest clearing.

Listening to nothing.

Thinking of nothing.

Alone in the cosmos.

Who is talking?

Past experiences. Looking at yourself…

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Past experiences shape what we see more than what we are looking at now. A new study argues that humans recognize what they are looking at by combining current sensory stimuli with comparisons to images stored in memory. (1)

Seeing what you see. Only because you have seen other things before.

Go back. And try to take a look at what you first saw.

There was nothing in the cosmos.

Just you.

See?

Seek peace. Conquer the world.

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Modern man wants to conquer the world. He wishes to control the universe. Because he thinks he knows himself. Because he believes the cosmos should bow to him.

And the cosmos laughs.

And man dies in agony.

For there is nothing to conquer but yourself. There is nothing to control except your desire to control things. And the more we know the more we distance our self from the only thing we need to know.

Stay silent.

Listen to your self.

“Do you know me?”, He asks.

Do you dare to answer?

Seek peace. And you will discover the chaos of life. The darkness of existence. The nothingness of Being.

And in that nothingness… You.

Crying.

Having conquered the cosmos.

Humans. Universe. Blank books…

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A scientist claims that we might all be the universe’s alter egos. (1)

You.

Me.

Him.

Parts of the same universe.

Alter egos of a cosmos which is alive.

A cosmos which as we stare at it…

It stares right back at us…

A universe full of everything…

Manifestation of life full of nothing…

An empty book floating in space…

There is nothing written on that book.

Until someone opens it to read it…

Look.

Can the cosmos see you?

Feel.

Can the universe feel you?

Ask wisely.

How can any word be written outside a book?

A cosmos floating…

Part of you.

Part of him.

Part of me…

There is nothing in this cosmos.

Until it starts looking inside you…

Forgetting who you are… One experience at a time…

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Researchers have revealed that infants aged 4- to 5-months already hold a primary cerebral representation of audiovisual integration of material information in their right hemisphere, and the number of types of material which can be processed by infants’ brain increases with the experience of the materials. This finding may lead to understand the trajectory of acquiring general knowledge about objects around us. (1)

The more you do something the more easily you can do it.

The more you breathe, the more easily you can breathe. The more you walk, the more easily you can walk. The more you experience the material cosmos, the more easily you can gain new experience of that cosmos.

But there is a catch in this gift. And Silenus will soon come to warn us. At the end, we will experience everything. But we will lose everything we could have without experiencing nothing. Like Midas, we will be rich. But we will die out of starvation…

Kids playing on the beach.

Happier than ever.

Dying a slow death…

One experience at a time…