I once knew a bum who had a wisdom that Plato, Nitzsche, Sartre, Marx Socrates, Heiddeger, Whitehead, Russell and even Wiettenstein would have been envious of there he sat, every day, like a stone tossing peices of trash into a shopping cart from the broken chair at the edge of my apartment (door) and each day I passed him, only to notice his crooked eye and youthful hands tossing and tossing and tossing on my way home from work; a chilly November evening I stopped to get my usal cigars, whiskey and porno mag at the store right across the street from home I noticed the flashes of blue and red and the strecher that held his body at the age of 18 I could count every rib on his sides and the dots that colored his arm walking up my stairs and back into my room I heard the neigbors little girl tell her daddy "thinking is different then knowing" I unlocked my door, dropping my keys. I sat down next to the radio, poured my self a drink raised it high and thanked wisdom for she comes from nothing and reutrns to nothing I light my cigar opened my porno mag and listened to the sound of the crowed gathering around; nothing draws people like people and I smiled; all I needed was my drink, smoke, paper women, and the beating of the drums on the radio for wisdom comes from nothing and returns.

Just another day in the coffee shop; you know how it goes. Coffee, books, laptops, and voices. I was sitting in my usual place, tucked away in an old style arm chair, sipping my tea and pretending to read my magazine, listening to the voices all around me.

You know; listening for those answers.

"I dont believe in enlightenment."

The voice overtook my ears; like gun shots in the middle of the night. Who says such things in the coffee shop! I turned my head, still looking down at the  News Week in hand. His voice went on;

"Its just a term people describe the high they get from knowing themselves. It means nothing."

"How can you say such a thing!" Her voice replied with great anxiety. "You of all people should know the joys of gaining enlightenment!"

"Im sorry, but I dont believe in the logos. I dont beleive in the city; im a country boy through and through. I mean, whats the point of trying to touch the sun from the earth?"

"Thats just an analogy; it means nothing." She said.

I looked up from my magazine. I had to see what these people looked like. He was a very ugly guy, but he sat with the kind of confedence that ugly people just should not have. Its like he knew something everyone else didnt! What a cocky bastard!

"Sure, you right, it is just an analogy. But, like the gnostics do, there is a hidden meaning there with it. And if your really listening to what I am saying, you'll hear it. Well perhaps that the thing; one can never really get it across. Perhaps its just all bunk!"

She looked at him very intently, my eyes still fixcated on the two of them.

"Thats right; language can never get anything across! Its just a man made tool; it can never really say the way things are!" She almost cried out.

"Perhaps your right! My god--all this time.... Could you hand me that diet coke can please?"

She turned to the coffee table, reached, and handed it to him.

"Thank you" he said with a grin.

She was startled; she had been caught.

"See, they CAN work at times; words." he said with arrogence. Funny; every time he seemed to be right, he would turn into an ego; so arrogent.

"Words can get across truth; but at best, only the elegant truth. Words can never get across the true beauty; only the elegant."

With that, he turn right to me, as if he knew i was listening all along, and grined.

"That guy gets me!"

My, what a strange day at the coffee shop.

"See, enlightenment is just a word; its elegant; but not beatiful. Its a livewire; it looks really cool, but you can never touch it; for you will die."

"But its a road map! People need a road map!" she whispered back.

"Perhaps, but I think life was meant to be lived without maps. Just go. We are always trying to be, become, but we are never a thing. We are not an object. We have to define it along the way; and dont be afraid to get lost in it! Ever walk to a new place, get lost on the way there, and have a great time? Its never about getting to the place; its always about going. We are always going. Never there."

All she could do was smile; and funny.... I found myself doing the same. He was wrong about so many things; and I could tell he knew it. But he made sense--it was like he was talking with out words; jumble if you will. He was like a fountain; spewing aqua all over the place--and only the thirsty seemed to find it useful.

He got up and left the coffee shop, tripping on a chair and falling on the way out. His coffee went all over the place--but he just got up and walked away. He didnt seem to be bothered much at all.

As we left, a trail of music followed him from his headphones-- I could not make it out; but I knew just what it was.

Another universe.

Today I learned that I am wrong about everything; but truth has nothing to do with right and wrong.

Theres a fly in your soup is the same as theres a fly in your suit.

It seems that no one is has been able to truly define consciousness. I have been undertaking the task myself all day long, only to come up with a vague concept of what it might be.

Consciousness: The awareness of being aware in any lucid living creature that is either caused or inspired by external stimulus.

Within the chapter there is an exercise that instructs me, through out the day, to ask the question of "Am I conscious now?" I am supposed to ask myself this question whenever I think about it. The point is not to come to an answer but rather allow the question to lead to my awareness of the conscious moment. What does it feel like to be conscious? How is this possible? What am I conscious of?

Upon reflection on this task, it seems to me that by merely asking the question and reflecting on what consciousness is, I am always proving my awareness. Just by asking the question I am proclaiming that I am conscious. But this task alone doesnt tell me what consciousness is, just what it feels like. It also doesn't prove that it exists, as I could be mistaken, through some mental or physical mode, about me being conscious. This is especially true given that I dont know what truly consists as being conscious.

I will now briefly go over the different theories and problems of consciousness as outline in Blackmore's book.

Philosophical Theories

Two Main Theories about the world;

Monist (Materialism): There is only one kind of stuff in the world. (Physical/Matter)
Dualist: There is two kinds of stuff in the world. (Physical/Matter and Spiritual/Mental)

Monist Replies to Consciousness

The problem here is that while most philosophers and scientist do not adopt the theory of dualism, but if we are to out right dismiss it, there is little room for consciousness in our knowledge. It seems that every time we turn around, we see the outlines of a dualist philosophy when looking at what consciousness is.

There is a doctrine called "epiphenomenalism" that states that mental states are produced by physical events but have no casual role to play. That is to say that physical events cause mental events but mental events can have no effect on physical events. While at first glance, this seems to solve the problem that most philosophers have with dualism, it does have its problems. It would follow logically that if indeed mental events had no effect on physical events, then we could never even know about it or speak about it as these acts are in themselves physical events caused by mental events.

Another philosophical doctrine, called pansychism, states that the mind is fundamental in the universe and that all matter has associated mental aspects or properties, however primitive. In other words, all matter in the universe has a sort of mind. One version of this theory states that all things in the universe are conscious while another states that all things have mental properties, both conscious and unconscious. This theory raises allot of difficult questions, such as 'Are stones aware?' and 'What is aware, the physical body itself or is it its molecules and atoms that are aware?' and 'Why should there both be physical and mental properties to everything?'

Dualist Replies to Consciousness

Cartesian dualism, name after its creator Rene Descartes, states that the only things he can be absolutely certain of is what he is thinking about. He can have doubts about physical things, as his senses have deceived him before, but he cannot doubt that he is thinking. Thus he concludes that thinking is separate from the physical. The mental does not take up space and move about mechanically, according to Descartes.

This form of dualism is a form of Substance Dualism, which states that there is a difference between the physical reaction to pain (the nerves that react and move about) and the subjective experience of pain it self. (What it feels like to be in pain.) While the same thing can be described in both physical and mental terms, thus avoiding the need for a soul or any other second medium to work through, the actually experience is different.

Now the problems dualism runs into is in explaining how the mental interacts with the physical. There are many replies to this problem, some of which are:

1) The mental interacts with the physical via some medium (usually in the brain). If this were true, however, the medium it interacts with would then have to be physical; thus negating the very meaning and substance of the mental.

2) Another theory, put forth by Karl Popper, state that the synapses of the brain are so finely poised that they can be influenced by non-physical, thinking and feeling self. However, the theory does not tell us how this happen. [While there is no real proof for this, I feel this is the best theory for any dualist, such as myself.]

Psychology's Approach to Consciousness

William James seems to want to say that he dismisses the idea of the soul or 'mind-stuff' based strictly on the grounds that a person loses consciousness when the brain is injured or altered by drugs.

He also goes on the coin the term "stream of consciousness", which he means the apparently ever-changing and flowing succession of thoughts, ideas, and images.

However, it should be noted, that the felid of Psychology dismissed the idea of consciousness all together until the 60's, where it slowly began to be talked about again. (Thanks to the behaviorist)

As of the now, no one can define consciousness, but there is progress in the felid once again. Some people believe that once we understand the brain on a better (or completely) the term consciousness will be equal to that of ether, meaningless.

Mysterious Gap

While most psychologist are materialist, they cannot yet explain the apparent gap between the 'outside' world and the 'inside' world. How does thought manifest itself in the objective world? How is it that when I think about raising my hand, I am able to then raise my hand? How can thoughts have these apparent 'aboutness' qualities and objective objects appear not to?

At the end of the first chapter of the book, I find myself with more questions then I thought possible about consciousness. I dont know how to define it but I appear to sense that I am aware when I put my mind to the task. I dont know how the mind interacts with the body, nor does anyone else (at least through a theory that does not purpose major problems).

In my own progress to understanding this beast, I have come to see myself agreeing with Poppers idea of how the mind interacts with the body, in that the synapses are so small and sensitive that they appear to interact with thought patterns. But the gap is still there; how does thought cross the abyss into the physical world?

Ill end this blog with a quote;

"Human consciousness is just about the last surviving mystery." D.C. Denett

[It should be noted that Danett defines mystery as something that we do not yet know how to think about, rather then something we understand. We know how to think about space but we dont know everything about it.]

Let us consider time.

Perhaps it might do well to talk about how we remember first, before we put all the peices togeather.

When we remember something, it is not recalled in the sense that we go into our store house of memories and pull them out. Its not like a filing cabnit, sort to speak. Instead we pull peices of the puzzle from our brains and create the rest.

Let me compair it to a scratched CD. When a CD is read and the lense finds a scratch, it uses the rest of the information to peice togeather the information missing in the scratch. Our memory works like this. We get bits and peices and make up the rest to best fit the information.

Given that, lets talk about time.

When we speak of the past and the future, those very thoughts of the past and future only exist with in the present moment. When we talk about the past, we are really talking about new events and cognative activities created in the present moment based on an past event that may (or may not) have happen. But they are based, in the end, on events that no longer exist.

The accual event has passed us by and the event we remember is really just an act of the very moment.

As for the future, our thoughts on it are really just ideas created in our heads based on past and present information. The future we talk about and envision does not and will not exist.

All we have is the present moment. Really.

But what, or rather it is more asked, WHEN, is the present? When is the now?

Direct experience. That is what and when it is. The present doesnt really have temporal statues like the past and future do, simply because its based on an infinite experience, just so long as there is life. Its life that is finite, not experience.

Now this is not to say we should forget the past and ignore the future; nah, those events will or have existed, and should be delt with in such a manner. However, much like santa clause, we should handle them with the knowlege that they DO NOT EXIST. They are not real. They might have been real (as to the past) or will be real (as to the future) but they are not real during direct experince.

And direct experience is all we have. Its all we are.

All our pasts lead us to the moment.

All our actions lead us to the future.

But its the direct experience of the world that allows the past to have existed and the future to one day exist.

When thinking and growth start, it is like a seed; we find ourselves buried in the earth. From our perspective, it seems like we are miles and miles away from the surface, covered in dirt & clay. We can imagine the grass growing over where we should be, free to feel the wind blow throgh its blades. We convince ourselves that sunshine is just not going to be apart of our lives. We go on thinking that we are miles and miles underground, when in reality we are all just below the surface.

Dirt it tricky like that; makes one think falsely about the situation. But let us not talk falsely now, for the hour is growing late. As seeds its hard for us to realize our true potential; to become flowers. No matter how hard one tries, the fact remains the same: The seed can never know the flower.

But what does it mean to become a flower? It means destroying what you are; splitting your seed shell and pushing through the dirt. This is a daunting task! Think about it; when your a seed, well when most are seeds, they see all that dirt on top of them as miles and miles deep! What courage it takes to attempt to push your way through it!!! And not just that, but you have to murder what you use to be, a seed, in order to become to flower. Imagine that; killing what you are to go forward to something you have no idea of. To become a flower is for the seed to pave the great unknown to become something unknown.

wow.

But that's okay! Because once the seed makes it through, once they are above the dirt, they get to see a world bright and wonderful. They become bold with color and elegant with their scent. You become the symbol for lovers and a last gift for the dead. You become food for the bees and shelter for the ants. You become beautiful.

But its important to remember that every flower still remembers its time under the dirt; as their roots still grow thick there. Every flower knows that if it leaves the dirt completely, it will die.

So no matter how much it hurts me, how dark and cold I get. How alone I feel (and a seed DOES feel alone buried under miles and miles of dirt), I have good reason to know it will all be okay. I just have to push upwards until I reach the sun, the rain, the clouds, the wind, the bees. Everything is waiting, I just have to go upward.

Please forgive me wise ones, I am but a seed. But one day I will blossom, and all that live will come to smell my scent and come to ponder grace in my name. And I will come to love once again; everything that isn't me.

How sweet will that day be.

every day, a ghost sheds itself

down my spine

AND a new one matures

over what use to be

me;

with its crevis filled

with spots of navy blue jeans

and a black t-shirt

stained with mustard sause

and torn in a few places unseen

=0h the glory of yesterday=

    I would like to speak about God now. God in the abstract way, not in particulars. In order to understand the nature of God, one must keep experiencing God anew. In order for ones’ view of God to be valid, one must simply look. One does not breathe in the same breath, likewise one does not know God when God is frozen in one form. Each of us occupy different parts of space-time, and our position in space-time changes from moment to moment.  Thus our understanding of God must be different for each person and must keep changing.

            We, as a human race, have no innate certainty on the subject of God. So we try and freeze the concepts of God into one form in order to subscribe to and teach to our children, in the hopes that we all might agree on the same concept of God. We interrogate, search, complain, and destroy in order to hide the fact that we can’t accept that we can’t agree on what God is or means. We are too busy assuring everyone that we are right that we miss the point all together. Well, most of us.

            I don’t pretend to know what God is, too have the innate certainty of what the nature of God is. I only have my perceptions, and they change from moment to moment. Maybe all these wars and evils are necessary in order for us to come to the understanding of God. Maybe they are pushing us away, I don’t know.

            But what I do know is that If we can agree that we don’t know, well then maybe the true healing can begin. Maybe we can know the nature of truth as it is applied to our existence.

            Some people say that peace comes from finding God, I say it takes more than the mere sense of God to create peace. We must decide what to do with the information. Once we come to have an idea of what God is; we must choose how to act upon such a revelation. If now, the knowlege is in vain, sitting in our brains. 

Wave upon wave of discontent
Ravish the shores of our minds.
Red seas of lies and corruption
Erode my life before my eyes.

Empty spaces define me
And spills of the chalice defend me
Each passing day becomes so still
Because happiness is just a pill

No longer do we speak of things of matter
Nor do our passive eyes focus onto one another.
Each memory becomes nothing more
Than an out-of-body film.

Cold winds are upon us now
And only the stained clothes set us apart.

Our truths lie between probability and logic
But our purpose is fantasy.
Each moment the voice of my lungs
Become faint to the reasoning
Of thinking inside your box.

Revolt to a better condition
And evolve a better altered state.