So, I’m writing again. Writing a lot, actually. And that’s delaying my posting.
More soon.
So, I’m writing again. Writing a lot, actually. And that’s delaying my posting.
More soon.
Should is a powerful and near-effortlessly seductive aphrodisiac in our perceptual practices. And why not? It is useful and hopeful to have a sense of how things ‘should be.’
In rational minds, should is the genesis point from which measurements and judgments are made. But rational minds remember that should is a tool and nothing more–certainly not the truth.
As with all tools, ordinary Americans have a relationship to should made uneasy by our forgetting of its tool-nature. We confuse it with the truth of things, see what we think things should be well before we see them for what they are.
Indeed, we’ve come to equate should be with what they are–despite the fact that the two do not often coincide. This leads to many of our greatest human dilemmas.
Not only are we crushed, disappointed, and angry when reality fails to measure up to the should we impose on it, we are also of the belief that a combination of perfect arguments and actions will make those who disagree with our shoulds agree with them. Then, we presume, the world will be as we think it should.
If those efforts fail, too often we avail ourselves of scheming and violence, promising ourselves similar results, and excusing our tactics by telling ourselves the ends justify the means if we succeed in making the world match our notion of what it should be.
The sizable problem we face as a species and as a society is that a great many passionately held, competing shoulds exist, and their proponents are generally unyieldingly convinced of their shoulds’ rightness. Many of those people–more in number than is civilly desirable, frankly–are utterly incapable of discussing and debating their shoulds rationally in comparison to other competing shoulds, or even against reality itself. This is not surprising.
Human beings generate self-value and self-significance along numerous paths, but the most prevalent of these today is identification with and ascription to ideological groups, particularly ideological groups that invest their energy in defining their members in opposition to other ideologies and/or facts. They concern themselves with dogmatically defining themselves in relation to what they are not–based on rigidly held notions of how others and reality should be–than by stridently advancing along their values and celebrating themselves in relation to what they are.
This is fundamentally lazy, but modern human beings tend toward laziness when not in periods of duress. We are creatures inclined to the comfort of habit–unless the chips are down, in which cases we flee to avarice and cowardice or flock to valor.
Shoulds are habitual functions–shortcuts that are meant to make comparative decision making speedier and easier, shortcuts we’ve come to mistake for the truth of reality.
To understand the world truly and with sincerest compassion–for it, for our selves, and for each other–we must accept it for what it is first, far above and before imposing our shoulds on it. This is hard, deliberate work, though. Those who undertake it risk frequent upheaval of their worldview, and so of themselves. Ascription to should–a/k/a ‘belief’–provides comfort and certainty in habit so long as we stubbornly force the reality of our experiences to conform to it.
But we create madness in our lives–as individuals and as a society–by ascribing to shoulds rather than to what is–we fail to see things as they are and get angry and violent when reality doesn’t measure up to our expectations, and we ignore everything that doesn’t fall into the purview of our shoulds. We don’t respond to reality realistically. We respond to it as if it was a world different than the one that it is, like a crazy derelict vagrant wandering the streets thinking he’s a king, foraging through trash and declaring each meal a banquet, yelling at passersby when they don’t give him his kingly due.
The world is begging for us to see it on its terms. Isn’t it time we stopped confusing what we think it should be for it really is?
Syntax is the mechanism by which behavior and happenings are organized so that awareness of them can extend into understanding of them. Without syntax, behaviors and happenings exist chaotically and incomprehensibly. In a very simple example, regard the following sentence:
Incomprehensibly chaotically behaviors and without syntax happenings, exist and.
The meaning of that sentence is unclear because its syntax is disobeyed; the words are arranged clumsily and the flow of your thought through them does not result in clear meaning. Arranged according to the syntax of English grammar, the same words immediately resolve their meaning to the English speaker:
Without syntax, behaviors and happenings exist chaotically and incomprehensibly.
Syntax is not a human invention; it is a fundamental function of the universe itself and is absolutely required in order for the universe to maintain awareness of itself. Expressions of syntax are, in fact, repeated throughout every stratum of every arrangement of matter and space in the universe. There is a syntax that informs space-time curvatures (gravity) that defines how large volumes of matter collect and compile and relate to (orbit) one another. There is a syntax that defines the formation of atomic particles, and a syntax that defines the linkage of atoms along shared electron bonds. There is a biological syntax, a multicellular organism syntax, a syntax for organisms and societies. Without syntax, the universe would be unreadable, unknowledgeable to itself, a chaotic and incomprehensible mess of particles and space incapable of cooperating with one another in repeatable, elaboratable, knowable patterns.
Syntax is not the same thing as meaning, however. It is the mechanism by which meaning can be apprehended. When a network of behaviors—be they thoughts expressed as strings of words or chemical processes between sperm and ovary that results in the first flurish of mitosis—moves through a syntax, meaning is created. The syntax is not the meaning, the words are not the meaning, but taken together they produce meaning. Meaning is feedback the that awareness apprehends—without syntaxes, what happens in the universe has no meaning and the universe is unable to successfully be aware of itself.
Too often in various discussions of global issues—from time waves and eschatons to economic growth and sustainable energy generation—we ignore the matter of systemic capacity. Too often we mistakenly presume demonstrably limited systems to be limitless, usually predicated on the presumption that we simply have not discovered the obviously existent method by which we can render them limitless.
While it’s fun to contemplate the opposite, we know the universe is more than likely a closed and therefore finite system. So, as we know more certainly, is our planet. Why do we presume that one energy solution, say wind, is available in limitless quantity and that harnessing it indefinitely therefore has no consequences when we made the same presumption 50 years ago about the planet’s capacity to absorb fossil fuel emissions (and provide that fuel, for that matter)? We know, now, the fossil fuel presumption was stupid and untrue; what makes any presumption based on similar assumption likely to be any truer?
All systems have limited capacities—with no exceptions.
All capacities show signs of being reached when rates of friction within them increase. It’s when capacities are exceeded and frictions irreparably alter the system that things get interesting: Pressures break homeostatsis and permanent change ensues until a new homeostatsis is attained. Status quo will not be conserved and therefore cannot be restored. We are in such a time now—economically, environmentally, and culturally.
There are four super-frictional events that can occur in these moments: Collapse, metamorphosis, state change, and obliteration. Note that the latter two are very different from the former two in that they conserve absolutely none of the syntactic structures of the predecessor systems—only their raw materials.
What do we on planet Earth face now? Humanity has put inexorable strains on many systems, pushing them all to the frictional limits, including time itself (or so it would appear and Moore, Morrison, McKenna, and quantuum researchers theorize)? If we want to avert collapse or obliteration we must force back the civilization to relax those strains—or, we can force metamorphosis on the genome rapidly. State change doesn’t seem an option unless we discover some means of divesting our selves from the corporeal. At least two of the four (metamorphosis and collapse) guarantee some measure of our survival. Our only rosy future lies in either forcing the culture back from the brink or pushing it so hard against those frictional barriers we affect metamorphosis.
We are instruments. Not vehicles of inherent intent, merely vehicles that of inherent interraction and expression—devices, conduits for engagement. Tuning, technique, listening; cooperation, instruction, intuition. We create environments that originate from within and fill the air with-out.
We serve as syntaxes for syntaxes, magnifier-meaning makers for the meaning-code embedded in the music, buried in the instinct. The inherent meaning of the (/conscious//unconscious/) thought-experience, lodged in the silent note-signifiers (static all-syntax, wholly present-immediate on the page/thought landscape), explored-exploded-imploded from the eternal static into the temporary dynamic: life-death-value-meaning.
No instrument is universal—no guitar, piano, saxophone, synth, and retractable—can conduct every syntax and evoke meaning. We have inherent aptitudes for certain types of experiences, responsive sensitivities to specific syntactic music-codes.
All instruments can play most music, but not the same, not as well. We are in service to our sound, perfecting that expression. We must discover so much—non-judgemental listening (/progressive/ongoing/always renewing/) is essential: (/age/weather/experience/time seasons/) sounds transform us.
Our uniqueness allows us experiences others haven’t access to—some of us are wired to hallucinogens, for example—and it is via expression through our personal syntaxes that we can divest those powers/experiences to others.
Science has really become an enemy of the free society simply by virtue of the fact that it wishes to arbitrate all models. This is a staggaring amount of power for any group of people, especially a group of people whose accomplishment is only to give us an unrecognizable, abstract model of our world.
―Terence McKenna from the talk, “The Syntax of Psychedelic Time”
[What follows is an excerpt from an early draft.]
Religion and science feature large in our civilization ostensibly because they help us understand the things that are too big and too small for us to understand on our own, the things we can’t get our heads around, can hardly see enough of, but know with certainty are there.
We can’t figure everything out ourselves. We have a limited array of external and internal sense organs, brains that can only get so big, a fleeting gasp of air in the cosmic time continuum for a lifetime and seemingly fewer free hours in each day, and a personal scale that is infinitesimally small in comparison to the workings of the larger Universe and too large to observe its microscopic happenings. We are just physiologically disadvantaged to know all from the get-go. We can’t know all and, in my estimation, we never will. But as we have demonstrated time and again throughout our history, it is in our Nature to try to know all, and so long as our species draws breath, there will always be more for it to discover. And in that there is adventure, discovery, and grace.
The unseen-but-known has haunted us since our ancestors first discovered that night grew darker and more frightening when man had fire and song to beat it back with. We stepped off the plain and out of our naivete when we learned to sing and drew language into existence, and we became as gods when we made tools, and as a people together, through talking, carved the lands around us so that they resembled our imaging of them. I imagine those earliest of us were pretty scared: They’d taken the power of the gods and they worried there might be repurcussions. And they weren’t sure if the catastrophes wrought upon the land by unseen forces were indifferent or god-inflicted vengeances, so they got together and started thinking collectively about them―hoping to understand and, ultimately, outsmart them.
Our collective thinking produced first a mythic shamanism that was all things truly metaphysical for us as a people―it attempted to know and explain every thing that happened outside of ourselves, and it also tried to explain most of the things that happened inside of us. These shamans used technologies that we now consider separate―art, myth, science, and magic―to navigate and respond to the frightening and incomprehensible transhuman forces that flooded their world―and continue to flood ours. As people multiplied and populations grew, societies multiplied grew; as societies multiplied and grew, roles within those societies that had been generalized became subdivided and specialized. What once were shamans were now artists, doctors, astronomers, and priests. With lifetimes of accumulated learning and growth of population and technology, those specializations were honed, regimented, and canonized. And competition and secrecy emerged between them as each settled into the expectation that it might discover, at last, the Truth before the others. Somewhere along the way, they became enormous institutions, big businesses, and, particularly for science and religion, resentful competitors. Relgion and science emerged as the noblest and most powerful among them, and generated the most friction.
These things do help us as individuals on a day-to-day basis―in mostly small ways. Religion gives us consolation about what happens after death in exchange for weekly church attendance, submission to moral brow-beating, and tithing. Science gives us myriad consumer artifacts in exchange for regular retail outlet attendance and contributions and a willingness to look the other way while it consorts with the military. Certainly, both do more for some individuals―they give them avenues of life engagement that, if properly engaged, bring them closer to the Oceanic, to awe in the face of Creation. But not for most, and their biases with regard to most of us reveals that their chief interests are economic and cultural. Both encourage us to obsess about their wares and insights into Reality. Neither do a great job of helping most of us really come to terms with the long shadow of the unknowable that is cast over us all.
And that shadow is there. There are forces that act on us that come from things we can’t see. Tides, winds, the rotation of our planet that produces day and night, the fact that we’re consistently pulled toward the surface of our planet and never pushed away, the fact that someone living, breathing, and loving us today can tomorrow be an inert mass of rotting flesh that will never return to living, breathing, and loving―these are powerful forces whose workings are not clear at all. They hit us hard and we experience tremendous anxiety about them when we attempt to sit comfortably with and accepting of them. Just sitting blindly and accepting our fate―this isn’t something humans do naturally. It’s observable throughout our history: We reject the shitty hands Nature deals us. Queerly, though: We don’t reject the shitty hands we deal ourselves.
As children, we learn that the trauma of tragedy can be rapidly consoled if we’re given a good enough explanation for what happened. I suspect it’s a propensity of our Nature to equate consolation with knowing. Our experience doesn’t consistently bare this out―we can very often, as adults, know exactly why something went wrong―why that car hit our car―and find the degree by which we’re vexed by the upsetting incident hasn’t changed in the slightest. But it’s a superstition we cling to, a Should that drives and propels us despite all evidence to the contrary. If we get the right explanation, we tell ourselves, it’ll all make sense and we can feel better.
Science and religion no longer directly address the acute traumas and anxieties of our day-to-day experience. They entertain us and dope us to our anxieties and take our money for their inconvenience, but they don’t shine a light on the long shadow that haunts each of us, they don’t pull back the curtain, show us what’s there, and tell us how we can be at peace with whatever we discover.
We face the immensity of being, the long shadow of the unknowable, not at death and birth alone but every day of our lives. Even if we choose to ignore it, bury our knowing of it with so much infotainment and advertising noise and shiny disposable LCD screen glamor. Those unsettling forces haunt our every thought and motion, and something profound inside of us responds to those lurking forces knowingly―You’re bigger than me and I know I can’t escape you. It’s a fact of our biology and physiology: On a fundamental level we know we’re small, fragile, and very short-lived, and, deep down, we know that no matter how cleverly powerful and all-knowing we make ourselves, the slightest unaccounted-for variable can smear us dead on the pavement.
Many today are prone to idealizing prior cultures, romanticizing those cultures as having benefitted their simpler people better during those simpler times than our modern Culture benefits us. They suggest that the wisdom of the shaman class―those high priests of the proto-sciences―was a practical wisdom that helped people through their day-to-day, helped them understand and live a little less anxiously with the long shadow. Perhaps the ancestors of modern science and religion were better at helping us work through those day-to-day pressures of the ineffible. Their modern precedents aren’t and can’t, though. They’ve gotten too big and their models have gotten too abstract and complex. And we’ve forgotten that their models are models in the first place, rendered them as unquestionable ideologies, canonized them in their orthodoxies. We’ve conflated the models they offer―their theories of the Universe―for fact or something greater than fact―something we flimsily call “truth.”
We have to remember that they’re models. Setting aside my contempt for organized Christianity and my outrage at its derangements and the attrocities committed by those it deranges, I admit that it presents a model for knowing and understanding the Universe and our relationship to it. Science certainly does the same―it presents several models, in fact. But they’re only models―we’ll never be able to prove for ourselves by direct observation through our five senses the existence of “Yahweh” or the quality and duration of the continued existence we believe “He” offers us after our bodies go dead, and we’ll never be able to prove the motions of molecules and the compositions of stars by the same measure, nor will human beings ever travel as fast as the speed of light to see if they can go faster still. Models are simply a way for us to make the uncertain enormities that cast their long shadows over us a little more certain.
When we hire an architect to design a home for us, he makes a model of it to show us first. It’s a much smaller version of the home he wants us to build. We can’t live in the model. The model just helps us understand what life in the real thing can be like. The model helps us orient ourselves to what’s coming. Science and religion don’t help us like that anymore. Their models have become too abstract, too rigid, and too impersonal. Their architects have persuaded us to forget that they’re tools, that they’re models, and preached them as unquestionable fact, principal Shoulds in their orthodoxy. And their practitioners have by and large lost sight of helping us, of keeping their models practically knowable by us and practically applicable to us.
Where is the atom? Where is god? What is a star to me, really, when I can never cross all that distance to see it for myself, to test that it contains what we think it contains? What does the moment this Universe came into being, whether from an enormous explosion or from “Yahweh’s” yawning lips, really tell us that helps us get through our everyday lives, that helps us find happiness, or even instills in us a sense of awe and wonder? How useful are science and religion to us, truly, when they dance around these questions and never bring us, as individuals, closer to experiencing their answers directly?
Don’t get me wrong: I have tremendous respect for science, and for the ancestors of what we today consider to be religion, and the work of both heavily informs and factors into this work. But these guys aren’t practically useful in their current guises―some of them are off doing incredible work at the fringes of what is experiencible, work that will, some time later, enhance and deepen our understanding. But a troubling lot of them are just fucking with us for only the shallowest of reasons.
If we’re going to beat back this culture, we need some really useful models for how things work, models that really can help a lot more of us understand what we’re a part of, and models that can help us understand what that long shadow that we’re so frightened of is doing. It probably wouldn’t hurt, either, if those models helped us be at peace with certain inevitabilities and if that model was graspable by mere mortals, as opposed to the initiated few. And wouldn’t it be nice if those those models were put forth in terms we could not only understand conceptually but really see at work in the world around us?
I’m putting forth a practical model of the Universe, here. Let me reiterate two points for clarity: I’m putting forth a model, and I’m intending for it to be practical. I’m fully aware of the nature of models. I think mine is a good model, and I’m confident that it is a model that very accurately describes much of what is actually happening around us, things we can really observe and know for ourselves―and, frankly, all of what is immediately important to us. But it’s a model. If our experiences teach us anything, it’s that these things have a 50 year-or-so shelf-life. After that, our experience has changed enough that they’re no longer entirely relevant. We’ve changed. Children become adults and don’t know to value the models their parents and grandparents created. So, we either update our models so they compliment our changed Selves or we throw them out. I think my model is a good one for right now―the dawn of the twenty-first century. I know that it will eventually be eclipsed by new models based on new understandings, and I am thrilled by that. This is but one more rung on a ladder that, if traveled, brings us ever-closer to the unknowable, and while we can never know it in its entirety, we can be transformed by our proximity to it, enflamed by our awe in the face of it, and set at peace by the deep knowing of our connection to it.
As for the model’s practicality, I’ll introduce a lot of science, metaphysics, and myth to describe my ideas, but in truth I came to all of them just wandering the world myself. As we all should, I think. Though they are limited in what they are able to detect, we are born with perceptors enough to learn a great deal about our world, and we are fortunate to live in a human era where we can stand on the shoulders of a great many giants and so understand more than any who’ve come before us could understand.
Why do we need a practical model of the Universe? And why offer it before explaining the predicament humanity has caught itself in? Because we need a reality check. Because we’ve gone so far down the Vain Paradigm’s rabbit hole to delusion and mass hysteria that it isn’t enough to dispel one or two of it’s myths to see the light again. We need a broader view if we’re going to get distance enough from the whole enterprise. We need the tools to see where we are and what we are, outside of what the Vain Paradigm tells us we can know about these things.
On the surface, the Matrix had it right: What we accept as reality is a construct manufactured by a power hungry elite that does not have our best interests at heart. But seeing that reality as it is—and finding a truer alternate reality—is not as simple as disconnecting from your pod and entering into the “desert of the real,” and somehow being shocked into enlightenment in the presence of the naked truth. In order to make sense of your experiences—which is required if you’re going to step out of cultural reality and into a “truer” reality, one that more closely reflects the actuality of what of the Actuality is experienceable by us, you have to do a lot of work.
Reality is practiced, habitual perceptual organization and interpretation, and its impact is sophisticated and leaves deep impressions on all levels of the psyche. The majority of those impressions reside deeply and stubbornly in the unconscious.
Getting “yanked out” as Neo does puts people in non-sensable positions where they attempt to use habitual perceptual mechanisms to interpret raw actuality. That condition is too overwhelming to be useful—the excess of new and unrecognized stimuli and their relationships to each other and to those stimuli we know is overwhelming, but what is also overwhelming is the volume of data that falls into our realm of experience which we are wholly unprepared to anticipate, describe, and therefore recognize the presence of—which is a prerequisite of understanding.
We must deliberately decondition and recondition ourselves—through art, new science, philosophy, drugs, unfiltered experiences—if we are to extricate ourselves from the Babylon Matrix (as Jonathan Zap regards it) and prepare ourselves to begin to make sense of and be open to the Actuality of “the desert of the real.”
The writer who ventures to entertain an idea must abase himself masochistically before the reader before daring to state it. Sinuous writhings and self-abasements mark the prose styles of the twentieth century. The reader is to be habitually soused with sex and violence but at all times protected from the harsh contact of the critical intellect.
—Marshall McLuhan, The Mechanical Bride
The Universe is a Logoic Organism fully engaged in ongoing prismatic Self-awareness.
Now that the hell does that mean?
We have this sense that the Universe is a thing that is much bigger than us, much bigger than galaxies, and that is far outside of ourselves. We can conceive that it contains our galaxy, our planet, and we can maybe even conceive that we came from it. But we somehow fail to conceive that we are really in the Universe, that we are, at this moment, part of the Universe, a Happening that’s going on within it and participating with all the other Happenings immersed in it.
I think our bias is that of our mind, the goings-on of which we tie to a notion of spirituality that sets us apart from the physical world. And we also have a quieter bias: Our belief that the physical world itself possesses no spiritual dimensions. The presumption we make about the mind is that thought is an expression of soul, and the presumption we make about the material Universe and other lifeforms in it is that they do not have souls, and that no matter how enormous this Universe is and no matter how tied we are to it, that mind will escape this Universe in our souls’ forms when our bodies die. We will leave it and go someplace else. And we think that our minds are “us”―that everything else attached, like we believe of the rest of the Universe itself, to them are somehow spiritually void and not also “us.” So we are deeply biased in this regard to view our Selves as separate from and even above the Happenings of the Universe. And we are equally biased to conclude that the Universe and its Happenings, lacking no spiritual component, no awareness, are indifferent to our minds and therefore to us.
But our minds and their thoughts, also, exist in this Universe, exist as part of it. They emerge from it, just as this text emerges from my mind. As ephemeral and fleeting as they seem to us, as much as they seem to lack substance, location, and even a determinable presence, they have an actual presence in the actual physical object residing in our craniums―our brains―and they have an actual, measurable impact on our bodies and, through them, everything we interact with. Our minds and their thoughts exist in our bodies―and, we will see, outside of them as well―and, as a result, they are contained and Happen in this Universe. Perhaps mind and thought transcend this Universe at some point, and I will explore this a little later. But so long as thought and mind inhabit our bodies, our Selves, which themselves inhabit and are of the physical Universe, then our thoughts, too, inhabit and of the physical Universe.
But what is the Universe?
The Universe is all that exists that humanity will ever be able to observe, know, interact with, and imagine. It is the stars and the molecules, it is the planets and galaxies, it’s the trees and grasses and other living things we share this envelope of air and water with, it is even our cars and buildings, and it is most certainly us. There is also ample evidence to suggest that there is more in the Universe than we humans are able to perceive and conceive, not just in the forms of the particles and quanta physicists are able to detect and measure, but also in the spectrum of stimuli able to be detected by plants and animals equipped with other kinds of perceptors than humans are, and even also in the strange moments when humans themselves detect within themselves a shimmering of the undetectable, a whisper of the great and of the long shadow it casts over us.
The Universe is all-that-is, countless bodies and energy fields acting together in an overall harmony that allows for the separation of matter states and the emergence of Forms, establishes precedents governing and supporting energy exchanges, and propogates Syntaxes guiding the motions of all Happenings that occur within it. As an expression of Logos, it is infused with Awareness, and it is perfectly balanced to allow for Happenings occurring within it which satisfy that Awareness. As a single entity, it is cohesive and coherent, and evidence increasingly suggests that its internal components―galaxies, star, planets, organisms, molecules, quanta, us, and more, all the way down to what Laszlo’s Cosmic Plenum, all acting seemingly separately to us―are acting in concert, that they are responsive to one another, and that common rules govern and organize them from top to bottom. It is for these reasons of profound top-to-bottom/bottom-to-top coordinated cooperation that I consider the Universe to be a single organsim. Whether it is a “single-cell” or “multicellular” organism has yet to be determined. Cases for both will be made later in this work. That it is responsive to itself and that it organizes the goings-on it contains according to the same rules I will describe shortly is indicative, to me, that a fundamental Awareness resides in every Happening the Universe expresses. Therefore, the Universe is Aware, and, I believe, exists to facilitate that Awareness.
I also believe and will provide evidence to support that the Universe is a sonic hologram, a master Form that continually emerges from the original vibration we alternately call “the Big Bang,” “God’s First Speech,” and “the Divine Aum.” This sonic hologram is in constant emergence, ceaseless and ongoing creation, reverberating back onto itself in acoustically perfect space. As I believe the Universe to be sonic and vibratory–an emitted and listened to Form–I believe it is described best not in mechanic but linguistic terms, that while mechanical atomic models are useful, lyrical and linguistic models are more true.
Finally, I believe that the Universe is a spiritually emitted Form, and that it is emitted as a form of play for a divine entity I call the Logos, which Hindus and Buddhists call “Brahma” and “the Godhead,” alternately. Logos seeks to know itself through the expression of this Form (and likely others). As we are all, then, expressions of the Logos at play, and as we are all emitted sonic forms in a linguistic Universe, we must also all be imbued with Awareness so that Logos can observe and know itself through us. I will explore this, also, much later.
It may be hard for you to overcome your bias of human specialness and divinity-as-separate-from-the-physical to swallow this notion that Universe is Aware. I hope you keep reading my work, for I will make the case that the human being and the human civilization are truly remarkable and part of something beautiful and enormous that informs and enriches our lives moment by moment, and that something, if we properly harmonize ourselves with it, can bring us tremendous happiness, also.
Humans and the other expressions of biology that populate this planet also provide profound services to the Universe as we shall see later on. We are of the Universe, and also reflections of its fundamental structure and governing dynamics. We are containers of highly organized and harmonized actions of much smaller indepedent-seeming parts, and we give rise to things still greater than us as individuals, also. And we, like the Universe, and our component parts are also suffused with Awareness.
What is Awareness?
Awareness is the capacity of a distinct Happening to register an instance of Happening and its qualities. That Happening could be itself, or could be another Happening. Awareness is not the same thing as consciousness, intelligence, and knowing. Those are, as we shall see later in this section, hyperconcentrations and hypercomplexifications of Awareness. Awareness is simply the capacity to detect something. It exhibits no judgment, no feeling, and no response. I will theorize later that Awareness in matter is a function of an inner dimension present in all things I call Interiority, but for now it suffices to introduce the concept that all Happenings are imbued with the capacity to detect themselves and all other Happenings they might come across in their motions.
Now what does that mean?
As I observe it, the Universe is verbic. What I mean by that is that every thing and event―which I refer to as Happenings―that occur within it is involved in and defined by some kind of inherent change process. Nothing that exists in our Universe is truly static and unmoving. We can conceive that stars burn and planets orbit and revolve around those stars quite easily, and we can therefore judge that they are changing. But what of rocks―those seem not to change, correct? Not true: The changes rocks enjoy simply occur on subtler levels than we are able to perceive, and beyond human timelines. Individual rocks take millions of years to travel from beneath the Earth’s crust to it’s surface, and then take how many hundreds of years more to be eroded into sands and nothingness. What’s more, they’re also influenced by changes in temperature and forces such as wind, water, and upheaval that prompt them to swell or shrink, move. The buildings we construct, which are themselves hybridizations of plasticized rock, steel, and glass, are not eternal nor static: They, too, are weathered and will erode, and they shift, also, as the ground beneath them shifts. Given enough time and enough planetary change, they will fall. Given a little more time, they will have disintegrated.
Our Selves are no exception to this rule either; indeed, when we separate our egos from our observation of them, we discover that the physiological vessel we call our “body” which we deem the container for our “minds” and the conductor of our “spirits,” is a remarkable change engine―matter in a constant and harmonized state of countless overlapping dynamic processes, from our respirations feeding our blood flow to tissue construction to the electromagnetic pulses that travel our neurons to and from our brains and stimulate our muscles to act.
We know that the state of the Universe itself―from the smallest fleeting movements of waves and particles to the rapid expansion of space that it occupies and the Happenings that go on within it―has changed and is changing and will go on changing. Whether you go with the Big Bang as an explanation of origin or a religious genesis myth, it’s fairly well accepted that the Universe began as a fairly simple, uniform matter state and that, over time, it complexified and diversified in its physiological arrangement and change composition. By all accountings, scientific and religious, it will continue to do so until some unimaginable end point is reached, at which, if they’re right, the Universe will have exhausted its capacity to change.
In our language, a noun is an designation for something that is static in nature; a verb is a description of what has happened, is happening, or will happen―it is a description of how things change. At it’s core, the verb is always happening; only it’s tense assigns it in time. A Universe in which every expression of it contained within it is in a constant state of dynamic change is, therefore, verbic. We cannot say that anything in the Universe is static, but we can describe everything in it as dynamic and verbic in the moment. I will use the term Happening in this manuscript to generically describe the Universe’s components.
A Happening, therefore, is any isolatable, observable dynamic event in the Universe. Everything and every thing in the Universe is literally a Happening, including, as we shall see, space itself. No thing is the Universe is not-Happening; therefore, the Universe is devoid of non-Happenings.
Now, what is remarkable about our Universe is that these Happenings are not dumb. Viewed from our perspective, all of the dumb-seeming Happenings that go on at atomic and subatomic levels produce a result that can hardly be described as dumb at all: Us, and the dynamic biological engine we call our planet, which contains everything needed and more to sustain us; the Bios, which is the expression of biological life that supports the ongoing vitality of living things and their capacity to coax the material Universe into the formality of Being from the state of Quantum probability all things rest in when not observed by the Bios; and those Forms which are not of the Bios, from subatomic particles all the way up to the Universe itself. These things―us and the planet we reside on and benefit from, the Bios, and more―are also Happenings, and as far as Happenings go, we and the organisms we share this planet with can hardly be dumb. We conduct our movements to satisfy our basic biological needs, do we not? And the Happenings that shape and give rise to us are not dumb, either, as they maintain their cohesion and act in persistent concert to maintain our Forms as they change, grow, and mature.
It’s clear that the Happenings in this Universe are coordinated in their broader Happenings, and so, as a result, accomplish the organization and Actuality that we currently reside in. As we know, coordination between humans, coordination between animals, and even coordination that is spread between multiple species of plants and animals and humans, such as a farm―-coordination requires a fundamental Awareness of Self and Other in order to exist. We must be Aware of our Selves first, and we must be Aware of the actions of Other’s second, and we must be Aware of the relationships that arise between our Selves and the Others we are inter-acting with. This three-fold Awareness is fundamental to all forms of biological coordination. We know this is true of humans, but observe also the Happenings of plants, animals, single-cell organisms and viruses. These things all respond to Other in one fashion or another. Their response demonstrates a fundamental Awareness of Self, Other, and relationship.
Take a blade grass. It demonstrates its Awareness by turning toward the sun as the sun progresses through the sky each day. The grass is Aware of its Self and the actions it is capable of (changing tissue tensions that allow it to subtly change position), it is Aware of the presence and actions of an Other (the Sun and its steady emission of photons and heat energy), and it is Aware of the relationship between its Self and that Other. It demonstrates its awareness of those things by conducting the physicality of its Self to optimize its relatings with the Other.
Animals I think we can all agree demonstrate Awareness, but what of single-celled organisms, such as algae or amoeba? Well, consider: These exist in a massive and highly complex environment, full of trillions of tiny organisms, most of which are nothing like the algae or amoeba at all, not to mention other bigger and bigger organisms that are more and more complex and move through their environments with less and less awareness of the small organisms the bigger and bigger they get. It is a miraculous achievement, when you think about it, that these tiny, basic and therefore dumb-seeming hyper articulations of proteins are able to navigate their environments and sort out their sustenance from all of the other particles and organisms that inhabit their environment. This requires and demonstrates Awareness―of Self and the needs of Self, and of Others in their environment, and of specific relationships that crop up between different kinds of Others. The amoeba is Aware of the relationship between it and another organism that would eat the amoeba, and we can observe the amoeba’s Awareness of that relationship in its actions to avoid that predator rather than actions it might otherwise demonstrate―where it would attempt to confront and perhaps try to eat its predator.
If Awareness did not suffuse itself throughout every Happening in the Universe, it is likely that the Universe would simply be an inert cloud of motionless dead particles. Actually, as we’ll see in Quantum later on, there wouldn’t be particles at all, nor quanta, nor energy, nor even probability of any of those things. In order for these things to exist, they have to relate to one another, they have to work together, to exchange energy and to influence each other’s Happenings. The Universe exists in relationships, in relatings.
Existence is a condition of Awareness whereby a Happening validates that it is Happening and validates the Happening of Others. Existence cannot be singular and occurs only in the relations between Selves and Others. Put another way: Relationships are fundamental for existence.
A Relationship is simply a Happening in which one or more other Happenings become aware of itself or of each other. These dynamic connections are absolutely crucial not only to the philosophical matter of Existence, but to the very formation of complex, massive bodies of matter, from dust particles to human beings to planets, stars, and so on.
Can a thing be truly said to exist if it is wholly separate from all other things? If we approach the question logically, we simply cannot conceive of such a thing. Imagine there is a place, first, that is outside of our Universe, existing in another sphere altogether, and sphere that has no relationship to our Universe or to anything else, except one particle. We have placed this particle in this lonely space as an experiment to attempt to determine if that particle can exist if it is not in relation to any Other thing. The experiment is a failure: The particle exists in relation to the space, it is defined by its relation to that space.
We can’t put a particle somewhere that it is not a space, or any other place that isn’t a place or a where. We can’t put a particle no-where. And we can’t manufacture a no-where to put a particle in. And we also can’t put a particle anywhere and not know that we put it there―we’re aware of it because we acted upon it and remember acting upon it, and we maintain our awareness of it by conducting this experiment. What’s more, we know that part of Awareness is a function of Self―the particle relates to its Self―and therefore establishes, to a small degree, its own existence. This awareness of Self is an odd repositioning of Self and Other in which the Self is Aware of itself as it would be Other. The positionings of Self and Other in relativistic settings is a fascinating phenomenon that we will explore in-depth a little later. For now, it suffices to say: Space and place require one another in order to Exist, as do Self and Other.
I will certainly describe the Universe in terms of atoms and electrons and photons and I will also cite certain atomic forces. I will cite recent advances in Quantum Theory and will look at the traditional theories of the entrenched Newtonian paradigm. I will also cite the descriptions and myths of the mystics and ecstatics who’ve looked on the face of creation experienced the awe and wonder I’ve experienced as well. But I will primarily look at and describe the Universe and its workings using language that reflects dynamics we can see and know directly rather than its constructions which we cannot. In fact, I will defer to that language and argue that the dynamics are fundamental, not the physical components and mechanisms of its ongoing creation.
Science and religion believe that the created universe gives rise to its dynamics, but it is my belief that the dynamics are what give rise to this Universe. And it is my opinion that the evidence bares this out richly and incontrovertably―if only we have the courage to observe the Universe on its terms rather than on our own. This is why the fringe in Quantum has become so illuminating: Unable to understand on the terms we’ve previously imposed on the weirdness that happens at the very edges of the physical Universe, the wild and bizarre behaviors of the smallest of the small and the most energetic of the energetic, Quantum physicists are diving straight in, rules-be-damned, and reveling in the weirdness on its own terms. What they are learning is astounding.
It is astounding at least in part because the Universe’s workings and behaviors are surprisingly self-evident. Certainly, we cannot detect the behavior of quantum “particles” (after this referred to as “quanta”) with our naked eyes, but the motions of these particles―their dynamics―manifest themselves throughout this stratum of existence. We can see the dynamics in the behaviors of all things around us.
If we are to counter the Shoulds of the scientific paradigm, we need to watch what things are doing on their terms. And when we watch what things are doing on their terms, we rapidly discover that no thing acts independently and alone on its own terms solely. Everything relates to and acts with everything else. More importantly, the Shoulds of the scientific paradigm are, as we’ve seen, mechanistic. Once we begin observing the things as they behave around us on their terms, it becomes rapidly clear that they are anything but mechanistic. Their individual accomplishments, observed in isolation, seem scattered and incongruous and do not lead us to an understanding of the whole. But when we observe the dynamics that inform and describe their behaviors, we discover that all things act together and that discovery, if rendered on-going in our day-to-day experiences, leads us to an understanding of the whole, because all things are reflective of the whole. All things are, in fact, of the whole.
Spend anytime walking a forest, diving in a coral reef, or tracking a raging river as it erodes and gouges a caynon into the Earth, and just strip the interactions of those entities down to their barest qualities and what do you discover? In simplest, rawest terms, you determine that matter is responsive to itself. The matter that is the water interacts with the matters that are the rocks of the canyon floor, and in that contact the water grabs a little bit of the rocks and the rocks give up a little bit of themselves to the water. They respond to one another.
We forget that our bodies are matter, but the fact of our physiology soundly demonstrates matter’s responsiveness to itself―from the mind-controlled movement of our muscles to the energy exchanges of respiration and digestion.
In the modern paradigm of Cartesian/Newtonian Physics―a Physics that informs the Culture that manufactures humans into consumers―the Universe is concieved as a mechanism that is wholly indifferent to itself, that, out of sheer dumb luck, has attained the form that it is in today. Humans are set apart from that existence by virtue of our consciousnesses, which are supposedly occur in no other animal, plant, or mineral. We humans are, according that scientific paradigm, extremely fortunate that Universal Form affords for the existence of life―so we can harvest it.
That paradigm is the result of Enlightenment thinking, which was an attempt by European peoples to reconcile their emerging intellectual and personal power and the revelations those were affording them of the world with the revelations of a god no one had seen nor heard in, at that point, over 1,500 years. Somehow, ancient peoples of the Bronze Age were more worthy of Yahweh’s attentions and machinations than the people living in the wake of the Renaissance’s revolutions of understanding―”He” was either ignorant of our greatness or was hiding in the wings, waiting to see what was going to happen. The Church has long predicated itself on the absence of “god” from the here and now; the more absent “god” and “His” instructions are from the every day, the more easily the clergy could control “His” followers via bewilderment.
Science found the absence of god extremely useful as well: Intellectual white men, more inclined to assemble and disassemble things than cultivate and grown them. With Yahweh absent, the intellectual white men could consider the Universe as a perfect assemblage unto itself, a perpetual motion machine, a clock that needed no winding, left to run indefinitely until Yahweh saw fit to return. Man, they reasoned could discover the workings of that mechanistic Universe, if only he possessed the right theorems and tools.
The scientific paradigm that dominates today predicates itself on the mechanistic and indifferent model of the Universe. But the cutting edge of Quantum Physics is telling us something very different about our Universe. It is confirming, without a doubt, matter’s responsiveness to itself. It is confirming that what we see when we observe human beings communing with one another, when we see predators feeding on prey, when we see gusty winds sweeping snow off high mountaintops: Matter is responsive to its Self. Matter interacts with itself with dynamics we can see, dynamics we can observe, and with dynamics that clearly indicate that molecules respond to one another just as animals respond to one another. On a fundamental level, it is clear to researches just as it was clear to our ancient forebears that all things possess an awareness of what is outside of themselves, and that awareness is the foundation for matter’s responsiveness to itself and for the organization of the Universe that allows the world to exist as it currently does.
Ancient peoples saw the world in very different terms than modern Westerners. Zen philosopher Alan Watts, a countercultural figure in the 1960s and early 1970s, describes the Western view of the Universe as ceramic, where as Eastern peoples, the Chinese particularly, and Native Americans embraced a view of the Universe as emergent. When he describes the Western perspective as “ceramic,” he is referencing the clay with which “Yahweh” claimed he molded into man: We believe that the world and that we are god-manufactured objects. Conversely, Eastern peoples see that the Universe emerges from and returns to itself constantly, like the lotus flower which blooms constantly from its center out. In the Western, ceramic model, the Universe is populated with dumb objects―including, presumably, most of ourselves. In the Eastern emergent model, the Universe is constantly growing from itself. The difference may seem insignificant to you, but it creates biases that have predisposed both cultures to live and behave very differently until very recently (when Chinese culture was overwhelmed by a crony capitalist culture, itself a perfection of Vain Paradigm cultural expressions). A ceramic model of the Universe establishes in us a fundamental bias that the world is our resource, and everything in it is ours to transform and rearrangement, construction, deconstruction, and destruction. The entire vehicle of manufacturing consumerism is built on this bias.
It’s easy in the Western world to let its ceramic biases overwhelm your senses. Ceramics and plastics, after all, surround us―our reality is almost wholly contained in brick and mortar, steels and plastics, wire and glass. Organic elements are simply fixtures landscaped into this ceramic environment―carefully selected plants and trees placed here and there. We invite children and pets into our lives, I think, in part to compensate for the mechanistic and non-organic environment we are born into, an environment that is suited to the natures of machines but that does not reflect our nature: That we are emergent from Nature.
We remain subject to the laws of Nature, despite the seemingly limitless nature of our mechanistic society and its extentions of our Selves. We can fool our Selves in to thinking that we do not change―every day―but the facts of our biology falsify this illusion. It is incontrovertable that babies and children grow and age and, if we’re paying attention, it’s clear also that adults grow and age. And surely we notice how the aged and elderly grow and change. But these slow changes are easily missed.
What can we observe from things that grow? For starters, growth is a biological function―at least on the time lines we are accustomed to observing and interacting with. Next up: Growth is cooperative. You and I can’t exist without two human beings getting together and fucking, without an egg and sperm getting together and fusing, and without our mother’s body hosting and nurishing our growing body until it is ready to be in the world on its own. Once in the world on its own, we generally work with other people in communities and societies to have our greater interests met and to work toward larger goals, and we feed on other organisms―plants and animals―in order to survive. What’s more, our bodies are composed of trillions of tiny organisms called cells whose brilliantly orchestrated motions make the on-going bio-physical happening we call our “Selves” a reality.
These are all cooperative―countless organisms are acting together, in response to one another, to allow for our existence. It is too easy in a ceramic model of the Universe to overlook this obvious fact of our Natures. Spend a measure of time in the increasingly scant plots of territory on this Earth that man has not made ceramic and in his image and you’ll begin to observe that this responsiveness is even more dynamic in these untamed worlds. As we shall see, this includes the supposedly “dumb” and “inert” materials that make up things like rivers and mountains and even trees and forests.
This model begins with that tenet: That we can easily observe that matter is not indifferent to itself, but that the physical world reacts to itself. That is, indeed, fundamental―not only to this work, but to the very fabric of our Beings as we are of and participate in the workings of this brilliant dynamic whole that is so much greater than the sum of countless brilliant dynamic parts.
What is particularly thrilling are those dynamics. We look for the secrets of the Universe in the motions of tiny particles and super-massive bodies and in what we can detect of stale billions-year old starlight, but in my experience the workings of the Universe are not to be describe in mechanical laws by in organic dynamics. These dynamics support and are guided by a Universe populated by matter that, in its countless forms, is responsive to itself. That responsiveness is only possible because, on a fundamental level, matter possess Awareness.