It Takes a Village to Break a Child

I do not often get comments on my blog; if I exclude the pingbacks, spam and my own replies, I’ve received twenty-two comments from ten different individuals since I started the eye of paradox two years ago. Four of those people have identified themselves as transgendered, and like every transgendered person I’ve known, it has affected their lives as bad or worse than mine and I do not have to explain myself to them to be understood. For a long time, I’ve understood that this condition is difficult or even impossible for people who have not experienced it to comprehend. In order to live with normal people, the “cisgendered” if I use the term that’s come into use to describe those who identify with their birth sex, I’ve had to go to incredible lengths to comprehend and empathize with them. I’ve tried many, many times to find a way to describe what it feels like to live with this condition, hoping to make it easier for my family and friends to understand me. As I mentioned, I do not always like what comes out when I write on this topic, because it is a very intensely emotional issue and intensely emotional writing just encourages people to accuse me of being mellow-dramatic. I honestly expect most people to be driven away by the things I have written. Growing up, it did not take me long to learn how incredibly unsympathetic most people are about this issue. I was never asked to explain myself. With the exception of my adopted mother, who confronted me when I was six to ask if I wanted to be a girl, no one ever asked me why I acted like a girl. By the time she asked, I knew better than to admit it, since every other time someone noticed I was just slapped, spanked, or jerked around while being criticized for acting like a girl and being commanded to stop. That does not mean I was not asking myself why I acted like a girl. Even though the question was often on my mind, the only answer that ever rang true was the one that the facts denied.

Because I was being held to a standard of behavior I truly did not understand and which did not come naturally to me, I had no choice but to conceal my pain and confusion in order to conform to that standard. As I’ve said before, it had been made clear to me that my “disobedience” was justification for punishment, rejection and abandonment, so it did not take long before I was conditioned to assume that anyone who enforced the male standard of behavior could not be trusted. I could not ask anyone why it hurt so much to not be a girl or why nothing about being a boy made me happy. I could never understand why compliments and praises highlighting my qualities or accomplishments as a boy left me feeling hurt, hollow and unhappy. I did at least feel relief and gratitude for the fact that it made people happy with me, and at the time I thought that was what happiness was. I was not always caught on the double-edged sword of gender conflict. No one can be, because one thing that Sophia Marsden pointed out is true; life is full of things that can be appreciated no matter who or what you are. In fact, I pretty much lived for those things, using them to distract myself, and in my preoccupation I pretty much forgot myself and acted like a girl — perhaps a tomboy, I should say, since I managed to get away with it more often than not. If there is a bright side to my childhood, it was that I found ways to be as much like a boy or a girl as I wanted to, as long as no adults were observing me. Unfortunately, I was never comfortable with my genitalia, or the fact that the sensitive organ served as a constant reminder of why I was not a girl. It pissed me off that I was never allowed to let my hair grow, and I hated the clothes I was forced to wear.

The simple fact is, there was always something bringing the gender conflict to the fore. No matter how hard I tried to be obedient, practical and realistic, the notion of myself as a boy never took hold. I was always caught off guard by the realization that I was male, and even when I was trying my hardest to keep that fact in mind, I would look at the girls around me with admiration and envy, forever underscored with an ache of loss. I did not really wonder why, because I knew why I felt this way, and knew it was forbidden, so I simply did not allow myself to think of it most of the time. I just locked myself away and died a little more each day. In a sense, when I got my hands on an anatomy book and finally found out why I was not a girl, I understood what was expected of me. I still did not know why I felt like a girl, and I still do not know. I do not know why I feel like I am lying whenever I act like a man. It is a feeling that makes me feel so sick, I cannot even get past the stupid “male or female” check-box on a job application. I mean, if you look at me and assume I’m just another guy, then, well, whatever, I cannot blame you for what you see, but if you ask me, I no longer know what to say. I am no longer a child to be threatened with abandonment, I am no longer willing to give anyone the power to reject me. I am more than willing to do any job asked of me, but I am no longer able to ask for a job, and if I care even an ounce for my own well-being, I cannot say anyone can pay me enough to endure what I have to do to myself in order to work. I got into temping and contracting because, for the most part, I am never in a position to ask for work, I am asked for; unfortunately, even that is drying up, and once my savings run out, I’ll be stuck homeless in Alaska with winter around the corner. The scary thing is, that doesn’t frighten me. I’m long past the point where I can be motivated by fear. Or, I am more afraid of compromising myself ever again.

I do not want to die, and I do not want to quit, but I do not trust anyone, I know I do not fit in, and even though there are people who understand and care, I know they have to take care of themselves first. I have made little appeals for anonymous help because I know I need it, and since I do not really expect anything to come of it, I really feel no guilt for asking. When you hurt enough, you scream. It’s human nature. Walking by and pretending not to hear the screaming is too. I really have no idea what I would have done if anyone had stopped and asked what was wrong. I would really be at a loss if someone thought they could help and offered. If someone wanted to throw money at me, no strings attached, I’d take advantage of it; it would be stupid not to and even if I’ve lost the will to go on living like this, I’m still too stubborn to die. I go through these spells of crying for help unable to decide for myself if they’re the remnants of my morbid sense of humor, a way to make it clear that I can manage a cry for help without killing myself, or simply an example of believing in people even if I am no longer able to trust anyone. In the end, the reason I write is not in the hope of salvation, but in the hope of understanding the answers to questions I do not even know how to ask. The people who shaped my childhood did not understand me, and their actions hurt me because they were carried out by kind and caring people I depended on. I could not tell you who is responsible for breaking my spirit, or failing to simply ask “why does this boy think he’s a girl?” My father stepped out of the picture when I was three, my mother’s parents convinced her to put me up for adoption when I was four, I was passed around between extended family members and foster care like a hot potato. Someone, perhaps more than one, saw my natural personality as a problem and whatever they did, the damage was done by the time I found myself in a safe and stable environment. I guess that just means that sometimes it takes a village to break a child.

Gravity in a distributed, process driven, information-based Universe

To a curious mind, gravity is a curious phenomenon. The more one pays attention to it, the more fascinating and mysterious it becomes. Today, we have the advantage of having had great minds ponder the mystery and define what can be observed and inferred by studying it. Newton pondered the question “why do objects fall?” and provided us with a theory of universal gravity (along with his three laws of motion). He essentially defined the terms we now use to describe and quantify gravity, the force that attracts objects with mass to each other. A description, particularly an accurate mathematical description, of gravity is the beginning of an answer to the question “how does gravity actually work?”

Newton’s theory of gravity gave us a grasp of the mechanics of motion, but until Einstein redefined our understanding of the relationship between space and time, and the relationship between mass and energy, changing our concept of gravity, we did not realize that there was a great deal more to the question. Einstein’s theory of general relativity revealed an equivalence between the force of gravity and the force of acceleration, with fascinating implications for the relationship between those forces and inertia that gave us new insight into the impact of motion on time and space. Einstein’s relativity introduced us to the concept of curved or warped space-time. At the same time, Einstein’s revelations provide a better description of the phenomenon of gravity while subtly undermining the concept of gravity. That is, it is less clear what gravity is (or what is gravity), specifically, and that makes it more difficult to comprehend how gravity works.

One of the things that makes gravity so difficult to pin down is the fact that it is inextricably linked to matter through mass, and through mass to space, time and energy; it reveals something profound about how space, time, matter and energy truly relate to each other. We just cannot, quite, see it. We understand that gravity is defined as an inherent interaction between masses with a direct impact on the shape of space in which mass resides. Ironically, space in the form of distance dictates the strength of the force of gravity. The force of attraction between the mass of two objects is proportional to the inverse square of the distance between them. We understand that energy is equivalent to mass times the square of the speed of light (C squared). But what does that actually mean? At the moment, we are looking at the same thing from many different perspectives, none of which provides a complete picture of the whole.

The descriptions have a way of losing sight of the query at the heart of the question. To answer “how does gravity actually work?” we have to stop and ask ourselves what we are really asking; when asking the question we need to consider what it is about gravity that is so mysterious. What is it about gravity that makes us wonder? We have to return to the question Newton asked, “Why do objects fall?” Newton certainly refined the way we were looking at the problem, but we still need to ask ourselves “what is this force?” or even more explicitly “what is the mechanism of this force?” There is something in the relationship between mass and energy that still bears examination. There is also something more to be understood about the relationship between gravity and other forces of motion, starting with acceleration or the transfer of kinetic energy to an object in opposition to gravity.

The answer might not come from asking about gravity at all. An interesting insight into the mechanism of gravity came to me through a series of observations about time. The idea was explored in a blog entry only a few days before I stumbled across the “how does gravity actually work?” topic on Helium. At the time, the blog was fresh in my mind and I posted it, without preparing potential readers for the leap my article asked them to make. Having been written in a moment of inspiration, it took a few days for the implications of what I had written to hit me. I had intended to comment on some of the philosophical implications of simulating time, based on the stated observations and examples, but in the process stumbled onto a simulation of the effect of gravity. To share that epiphany, I have to present it in its original form:

In order to understand time it becomes necessary to ask if time is an objective or subjective medium. To be clear, by considering time subjectively I do not mean simply in terms of our subjective perception of time. The question asks if time is absolute, and thus events at different points in time persist in their own frame of reference with a constant relative position in time. Basically, it asks if there are actual positions in and structure to time. The alternative, subjective time, deals with the concept of time as being functional, an operation upon the objective structure of matter and energy in space like the constant balancing of an equation in which there is no actual time, just a present state of the equation.

The purpose for asking this question is because the subjective version of time is one that can be reproduced. We have been doing this since the first human being recounted a story of events, and have refined the process of simulating and manipulating time in computer modeling. The example that prompted this line of inquiry for me is a program called Celestia (http://www.shatters.net/celestia/) that models the universe in four-dimensions. The program allows the user to explore the three-dimensional universe, across vast distances down to the scale of a few meters. It also allows the user to observe celestial motion at varying speed, moving forward or backward in time, in real time or at extreme acceleration. Observing this in action, one can get a real sense of time as a functional operation.

Within the scope of a program like Celestia, time is simply a variable in the program equation; it is the rate of change in the system. Inside of a system, an observer would be subject to the rate of change in the system, and would deduce that no process could occur at a rate exceeding the speed at which changes in the system are resolved. It is actually important to note that an observer, subject to an environment in which actual time is dependent upon the process of change in the system, will only be confronted with the fully rendered product. If the process of change is distributed, occurring at the most basic level of the system, then there will be instances where time will exhibit other subjective properties.

In the event that time is a distributed process, in a varied environment there will be regions where the level of detail is low and thus changes resolve in the optimum process time, but in regions of extremely high detail, where resolution is high density, the process will lag. In a fluid system, the consequence would naturally be that a higher resolution transformation would require more time to process, thus time would appear to slow down in a dense environment. Thus, in such a universe, there would be a direct correspondence between information and mass. The incidence of more information at a point in the system results in persistent lag, which is a subjective distortion of time. A mass of information would always exhibit characteristics of attenuated time.

In a process driven information based universe, the consequences of particles with attenuated time characteristics would include attenuated spacial characteristics in reference to all dynamic interactions. The increase of information in any region would reduce the amount of change possible in that frame of reference. Any information coming into the region of density would become subject to the attenuation. Each mass of information, having the tendency to attenuate time, would also attenuate space specifically, to compensate for the processing debt created by an information mass, the scope of transformation around that mass would be reduced, conserving energy. A natural consequence of this space-time dilation is of course the expansion of the universal frame of reference.

That was as far as the original post went, and it was a product of typing as fast as I could to keep up with my thoughts. I realize that it jumps across points that are clear to me that may not be clear to others; and without outside comment I would not necessarily know what connections need to be spelled out, but to me, while writing this post, I seem to have stumbled upon a very simple explanation for how gravity might work. To strip away all the speculation, the curvature of space-time used to describe gravity might simply be a consequence of the conservation of energy. I honestly do not know if this is a previously noted relationship; the conservation of energy is such a fundamental idea in physics it might simply be taken for granted, described accurately in the math but not commented on. I simply present this as the line of thought whimsy and the topic question brought to my attention, since I do not recall having encountered it elsewhere.

The quick and dirty translation of underlying thoughts includes a conceptual understanding of space-time as facets of a unified medium of which energy is the essential “substance” underlying and invested in the structure of space as both static and graphic elements subject to dynamic and sequential distributed displacement manifesting as time. In this model of reality, energy becomes mass by acquiring structure, which behaves in accordance to static and dynamic principles like distributed information processing because, whether viewed as physical structure or information, the energy invested in all structures is constantly rebalancing. It is simpler to just say that the gravitic effect implicit in a distributed process is a product of the conservation of energy, and it is possible that this is also true for real gravity.

Explaining the different dimensions

I normally avoid the first person when writing an article or essay, but in this case I need to begin with a personal story. A year into my studies at Humboldt State University a mutual acquaintance showed up at my friend’s apartment while I was visiting and regaled us with his synopsis of a lecture on dimensions he recently attended. I do not recall what the class was, and I’m not even sure I remember the student’s name, but I will never forget that conversation. Prior to that day, I had not given the concept of dimensions my full attention, even though I had previously encountered the topic in math, science and science-fiction.

The discussion we had that day about dimensions was not significantly different from the usual lecture on the first four dimensions, the point, the line, the plane, and the volume. The debate that followed was prompted by discussion of four-dimensionality. I got caught up initially in the numbering conflict; having just discussed four different dimensions, the “fourth dimension” being volume. Once the proper numbering of the dimensions was reestablished (0, a point; 1, a line; 2, a plane; 3, a volume) along with the accepted rule of progression (once an initial line is established, each new dimension lies outside of and perpendicular to the previous dimensions) we returned to addressing a four-dimensional object.

In specific, my acquaintance asserted that it was not possible to visualize a four-dimensional object. I conceded that it would be difficult to represent, graphically, but not impossible. Having an artistic background, I had thought immediately of the representation of depth in drawings (a two-dimensional environment.) I suggested that a representation of a four-dimensional object could be visualized in the mind. I suspect he took me too literally, because he objected, claiming, “The only way you could imagine four-dimensions is if your mind got warped into the fourth-dimension!” My immediate thought was, “Maybe it has.”

Since that day, I have given a lot of thought to the concept of dimensions, and the ways that dimensional concepts have been (or can be) applied. To date, the best example I have ever found for a four-dimensional object is the mind. The mind not only creates its own space (defines its own space, I should say), it contains the three-dimensional image we use to interface with reality. The mind’s ability to encompass dreams, memories and images of different times and places, real or imagined, and to jump between them or layer them one upon the other, reflects many of the examples given for the manipulation of lower dimensional constructs in a higher dimension.

This perception has left me in disagreement with the notion of Time as the fourth-dimension. Certainly, you need four-dimensions to represent the time-line of a three-dimensional universe, but this isn’t really a three-dimensional universe. By virtue of the way we are constructed, the image of the universe we construct is a three-dimensional cross-section of the universe. It can be argued, of course, but not in the space I have here, so I won’t press it. To get back to the point, Time is a dynamic medium, or a measure of change in a structure or system. Space is a static or graphic medium, in which the structure or state of a system is represented and subject to measure.

Time, as a process, can be attributed its own dimensions. We exist at a point in time, the present. Many points in time, related to each other sequentially, would give us linear time, a one-dimensional continuity. Many points in time distinguished from each other by different sequences would give us varying degrees of alternate time-lines, or the prospect of time at a different orientation like side-real time. The entire concept of time has to change when viewed as an operation upon space or physical systems. That’s another topic to explore in detail somewhere else.

Here, where explaining the different dimensions is what matters, the position I’ve taken and explored is the importance of associating dimensions with a specific media. Space, Time and the Mind all qualify as media, and all can be structured with greater complexity through increasing dimensions. In practical terms, the expression of a higher dimension normally does not occur until the possibilities available at a lower dimension are exhausted. However, the representation of higher dimensions can be intuited by remembering that lower dimensions are contained in and are directly accessible from higher dimensions. All dimensions can be constructed around a common zero-axis.

An infinite number of points can be contained in a line.
An infinite number of lines can be contained in a plane.
An infinite number of planes can be contained in a volume.
An infinite number of volumes can be contained in… a mind?

Obviously, the fourth-dimension is going to take a bit more work to understand, but for the moment, the mind you live in is the best place to begin working.

Originally posted on Helium.

Ammended on 2009/06/22 at 12:38am

My thoughts on dimension did not stop at the fourth dimension, and from the phrasing of the search queries that seem to lead people to this article, other people are curious about higher dimensions. I found the problem of examining higher dimensions lay in the absence of established terms for identifying and describing them. In my personal notes and journals, I adopted terms for my own convenience, but on reviewing them I realized they would probably confuse a prospective audience. For example, I referred to a four-dimensional object as a field or a fold; a four-dimensional object would effect (as a field) or contain (as a fold) more space than it appears to occupy. Any such terms are only useful if the concept they stand for can be communicated, however.

To that end, there is a mental exercise I used to build up a sense of higher dimensions that is easy enough to explain. It involves a challenging thought exercise based first on the description of the first four spatial dimensions, and then adding dimensions of time in space to illustrate up to eight dimensions in total. I am going to present the experiment in the manner I originally worked it out, which assumes that mass, fields of force and the curvature of space are all evidence of four-dimensional spatial structure. This means that the model presented here transitions from spatially derived dimensions to spatially and temporally derived dimensions at four dimensions of space and zero dimension of time. I have already described time as a point (the present), time as a line (the past), time as a plane (alternate time lines) and hinted at time as a volume. The third dimension of time (seven dimensions of space-time) presents some interesting conceptual challenges because the initial thought is to simply think of time lines parallel to parallel time lines.

In three dimensions, we’re not limited to just parallel lines in one plane. We can have parallel lines in different planes (360 degrees surrounding the primary line) or perpendicular to the primary line at any point. To us, in our own time line, all the time in a line perpendicular to us would pass in an instant. Even more fascinating, in three dimensions, a time line would not have to be straight. Neither would time planes. They could have peaks and valleys, curves and bends (spiraling or even closed loops of cyclic time), or even more complex planar topography.

In four dimensions (eight dimensions of space-time), time becomes even more strange. It would seem that all the possibilities of time are explored in three dimensions, but in four dimensions, all points in time become directly accessible to all other points in time. In my own notes I describe this as a time field (as opposed to a spatial field, which I neglected to mention previously). The interesting thing is, a four dimensional temporal universe would not only allow for time to progress in different relative directions (up, down, forward, back, right, left, what have you) it would also be possible to jump from any point in time to any other point in time instantaneously.

It is paradoxical, but that is what you get with order that is all encompassing. Instead of relying on cause and effect, you would have potentiality and probability in a constant feedback; all possibilities and permutations are implicit in the instant (eternity) resolving at all points simultaneously (infinity) each of which can be experienced discretely (and subjectively) by positioning attention at the relevant coordinates of causality.

As before with space, this kind of structure can be held in the mind, in its abstract form, and used by the mind in the thinking process to model endless variations on reality as part of the decision making process. This moves the mind from an object of four dimensions to an object of nine dimensions. Given the possibility of modeling information in even higher dimensions, though, the bounds of the mind should be said to exceed ten dimensions. This is based on the observation that a construct of one greater dimension is required to project an image of an object in a given dimension. A common example is viewing a two-dimensional image (obliquely) from the perspective of the third-dimension. By extension, a three-dimensional image is viewed obliquely from a four-dimensional perspective, and so on.

Is there really such a thing as the present?

Is there really such a thing as time? That is a question it is helpful to ask in order to address what we call the present. That is because our experience of time is completely subjective and because everything we are is dependent on that peculiar subjectivity. Time is what we derive from the ceaseless transformation that is part of awareness, consciousness, thought, perception, action and reaction. Time is our measure of the dynamic quality of existence that compliments the static quality of existence the latter of which allows the world and ourselves to be manifest.

The question is, does time actually exist or is it really a matter of perspective? We know that the present is a matter of perspective. It is a singular point in time in which our consciousness resides. It is the moment of realization that stands still while everything else changes, in a chain reaction that rigidly adheres to a causal order. This continuum is linear, and when we try to imagine the motion of an apparently three-dimensional universe through time we trick ourselves into constructing a four-dimensional space-time continuum.

The problem with that is that by doing so, we have asserted that space and time are interchangeable, positing a relationship similar to that of matter and energy. What is the problem exactly? Well, examine first the continuum of matter and energy. Matter can be reduced entirely to energy, which can neither be created nor destroyed. The thing that distinguishes matter from energy is structure. What distinguishes space from time without disassociating them completely? If it is dimension, then once again, structure steps in out of nowhere.

This is not necessarily a problem, if we consider that it is space and energy that constitute the true universal continuum. It provides for mutual resolution in that it answers the question of providing the universe with a capacity for structure and change. Space is static and energy is dynamic, giving us the framework for a universe with matter and time. Under this arrangement, time would be subjective and continuity would be a product of perspective. That is, time would be entirely relative. It would emerge in direct association with process.

To be specific, the universe would not unfold a certain way because of the influence of time, but rather that time would unfold in a certain way because of the process of the universe. This would be consistent with the way that time is created for us, through the processes of perception and interpretation. For us, the experience of time is created through the mechanisms of our sensory and nervous organs transmitting nerve signals to our brains, which process them. Somewhere in there, our minds get engaged and interpretation and experience occurs.

So, what does that make the present? In some ways, that just makes it the focal point of this perceptual-interpretive process. Where we are in time becomes dependent upon where we are in the stream of information flowing through this structured, energized space we call the universe. Does that sound crazy? Does it sound rational? Does it sound mysterious? It might as well; life as we know it is all of these things. The only part of it we get a back-stage pass to is the part that goes on in our minds. That’s something to think about when we get around to wondering what, exactly, space is.

Originally posted on Helium.

Noosphere: The future of evolution?

Those moments in life when we are confronted with a new concept or idea can be life altering, seemingly setting the mind free to roam a new and undiscovered country or even knocking the world completely off its hinges. Sometimes that can happen even with just a new word or concept for something we’ve had an inkling of all along. In some cases, it is more like getting hit in the head with a brick and realizing that this strange and wonderous idea has been staring us in the face for so long we have actually gotten in the habit of ignoring it. In its time, evolution was one of those occasions. Even today, recognition of the existence of the mind is also one of those occasions.

Coming forward to speak about the evolution of a new, mental context for existence, we have the option of latching onto the concept of the Noosphere, or we can cling to older conceptions like the Spirit, the Astral Plane, or any permutation of the Afterlife. We also have the option to proceed in terms of philosophy, literature, legend, myth and dreams. Finally, we could simply focus upon the singular and individual mind each of us possesses, and consider all the factors that contribute to a mind’s creation and evolution. Like most of the great mysteries, we find ourselves starting out right in the midst of it, so any contemplation of what might progress from here we need to begin by looking for any indication of progression contributing to where we are.

We can, without upsetting any of the popular assumptions about the nature and significance of the mind, begin by observing the mind as we experience it in our selves. Fortunately, the mind is somewhat predisposed to self-examination. A mind has one distinct and notable boundary, or context from which it is excluded. We call this exclusion “Reality” and each of us contains our own reality, the sphere of “Reality” is unique in imposing severe limits upon the mind’s influence. The prevailing belief is that the existence of the mind is grounded in and based upon a foundation in Reality. It is worthy of note, however, that outside the sphere of reality contained in the mind, the mind is entirely without limits except those that it imposes upon itself.

The scope of the mind is limited only by its own imagination, and that imagination can be stimulated to degrees that defy reality. The compass of the mind ranges from the real, through the ideal to the utterly surreal. Freed from the limits of mass, matter, energy, entropy, time, space and dimension, the mind creates what it needs from whatever it can conceive of and all that is has evolved to encompass. The powers of the mind are awesome and beguiling and if we did not have something to ground us and focus our minds we would lose ourselves in endless musing and eternal dreams. The anchor and lens our minds are provided with are the body and brain, rooted in that sphere of reality that is so vexing to the unfettered mind.

We have long been fond of thinking of the world, this reality we are grounded in, as a creation. The questions and arguments about who created the world, or how, or why, are really less important than the fact that this world serves a vital and essential purpose for our minds, thus giving us an undeniable motivation to create it for ourselves. Like many good ideas, it no longer matters whose idea it was in the first place, now that so many of us are caught up in realizing that idea. It is more useful to consider what it actually is and how it ultimately affects us.

The first and most important thing about reality is that it provides us with a place where we can encounter each other objectively. In our own minds, we are alone; our sense of self is derived from our awareness, and in the mind all things are within our awareness. An undeniable truth, even if it makes us feel crazy to say it or think it is “All the people in my mind are me.” Here in Reality, that is not necessarily the case. Here in reality, there are walls. Limits. The limits we experience provide us with structure and support us, providing reliable definitions for our selves and for our thoughts and feelings. The limits give us perspective.

With enough perspective, we can ask ourselves what we are and examine the physical and mental aspects of our existence, and contemplate what might happen if our existence is sparked in the brain, the culmination of billions of years of evolution. Alternatively, we can ask what might happen if this dream we woke up inside of is followed by another dream, a better dream like Reality but more Ideal. We can wonder if Reality is truly as inert as it seems, a wasteland in which life is miraculously improbably, or if it is just a demonstration of how hard it is for billions of souls to share an idea like one world in common.

The experience we each have of life begins as a dream in which we are alone. From this dream, we wake up into a dream where we are at least alone together. Some of us have examined the idea of the Noosphere, and the question that they are really examining is what would happen if we started dreaming as one. While that question is distracting and absorbing in turns, the implications of Reality are that the Noosphere has been here all along, and creation or construct we embody its evolution. Whatever bridge is to come, telepathy or neural-networking, Gaia or the Matrix, the best protocol for both is sharing a dream.

Originally posted on Helium.

The Purpose of Religion

In asking about the purpose of religion, it is necessary to ask first if religion is not simply a product of our own search for purpose? The answer to the primary question depends on whether we perceive religion as having a divine origin or if we see it as the origin of divine thinking. Either way, religion comes to us through human agents, so we have to begin by looking at what it is to be human.

It is in our nature to form ideas about the world based upon our observations and experiences – and we all do it. In the world, and in our selves, we find things that are difficult to comprehend or explain. Sometimes these mysteries are profound and wonderful, and sometimes these mysteries are profane and terrifying. For any given time or culture there have been people who struggled to explain or define these mysteries, and the value and importance of those definitions and explanations comes from the usefulness of the perspective they create.

At the heart of every religion lies a common miracle, the human mind. An apprehension of that miracle, the containment of the world and the self within the mind, certainly plays a key part in the most basic “religious” experience or epiphany. In many respects, even if it is not clearly recognized or presented as such, religion struggles to account for the containment of the mind in the body and in the world. The result is the belief in a special context for existence, the spirit. This is on one hand a very important thing, because it demands recognition of the existence of the mind itself, which is essential to the experience of life – if not necessarily in order for life to exist – but which cannot be accounted for as part of the physical universe. It also proposes that the mind could be more than the light from a light bulb, a mere epiphenomenon of the brain; it gives us the concept of the soul.

The existence of the soul is something that can only be contemplated from the position of an individual mind. That is, the mind considers its own existence and the prospect of that existence terminating at death or continuing in another context after death. This is a question that cannot be answered experimentally. One cannot know if there is a continuity of consciousness and individuality after death unless one dies and experiences it. Even if someone dies and is revived, or miraculously resurrected, it is reasonable to question whether one has actually died or simply come very close to death.

The beliefs and traditions of indigenous people were developed by people who lived in – and saw themselves as part of – the natural world. They were very conscious of their dependence upon the land, plants, animals and elements in order to survive. In order to thrive, they had to be very attentive to the winds and tides, the sun and rain, the moon and the seasons, because these things defined the conditions for prosperity. In exchange for taking what they needed from the world, indigenous people endowed the world with human attributes, intelligence, emotion, character, pride and wisdom, and recognized those traits in animals. This sense of common ground encouraged indigenous people to extend their concept of community to include the world around them and made their relationships with the world important.

By seeing and recognizing the connections between all things in the universe, indigenous people established themselves as part of the natural order, rather than existing under it or imposing themselves as unqualified masters. They could be honest and sincere in the manner they chose to live, and that allowed them to develop true common sense. More importantly, it allowed them to extend their sense of the sacred and spiritual beyond their personal selves.

The abstract aspects of consciousness – thought, understanding, awareness, purpose, and identity – the intangible aspects of people that the apprehension of the spirit is based upon – could be extended to the universe in all of its diversity and revealed that all things in creation are important. It gave all things a divine quality and completed the circle of life by making birth and death doorways to another realm of existence that was home to those not yet born and those passed away. Most important, it made it possible for human beings to relate to all parts of existence as human beings. It made being human (a good human) important; good character, responsibility, respectability and self-sacrifice became the coin of the universe.

It is hard to say, however, if that is the purpose of religion, or if that is just a consequence of early religions’ influence. In time, with the growth of human understanding and knowledge, a secular explanation for things that happen emerged to challenge the teachings of a faith. Religion is bounded by these two facts, or rather between these two circumstances, ignorance and knowledge. People have this amazing capacity to be blissfully ignorant and critically knowledgeable of the world at the same time. At the time of its creation, every religion in history has embodied this human characteristic by addressing the unknown from the perspective of the known. The mystical aspect, the apprehension of the soul and deeper truth, and the practical aspect, the teachings of morality and purpose, are concentrated into a system designed to unite a community.

Ironically, religion has also served to divide humanity. Religion, however it is inspired, whatever form it takes, is practiced as a human institution. One of the consequences of institutionalizing religion is the creation of authority. The more important the doctrine of a religion becomes, the more dangerous knowledge that challenges that doctrine becomes. Since doctrine begins as a sincere attempt to explain things, the fact that an explanation was needed proves that things were not well understood in the first place. Knowledge about the world grows as more time passes and more people study and think about it.

Eventually a clearer understanding emerges, and if knowledge or wisdom gained challenges or contradicts the established doctrine, it undermines the authority of that doctrine, throwing into question other teachings about other things. Once a religion becomes a means to power, it ceases to be a means of enlightenment and becomes a means of enslavement. The same thing can happen to a form of government, because government is also often based upon the institutionalization of ideas or ideals. The thing that creates a society can very easily become the means to command and control that society.

The structure provides for the creation of authority, and those who claim that authority gain privilege and to defend that privilege they defend and abuse their authority. The religion, or in the case of a government’s founding ideals, remains true in those who practice it, but it is corrupted by those who try to control it.

Add to this the fact that all of humanity exists in one common physical reality, but religion has provided humanity with many different spiritual realities. People are willing to defend their faith with their very lives, because their hopes of salvation, immortality and destiny are rooted in the spiritual reality of their religion. When differences in religious beliefs create conflict between human communities, or are exploited for political or personal gain, religion no longer serves to unite the people into a community.

On the other hand, religious differences have not helped to destroy as many communities as they have helped create. Religions still serve a purpose in the lives of individuals within their own communities. Modern knowledge has challenged many religious teachings, but the value of religious teachings is in the wisdom they provide. More so than in the past, it is up to individuals to determine how religious teachings should be interpreted and applied to their lives.

For the most part, people continue to subscribe to someone else’s interpretation of scripture, often taking it literally in the form it is presented to them. This suggests that many people turn to religion as a way to abdicate responsibility, when in truth, the true purpose of religion requires people to take responsibility for their own lives and actions.

Originally posted on Helium.

The Implications of the Mind in Matter: The Prospect of Oblivion

Posted on Helium under: The fundamentals of self-awareness

The mind is an inherently fascinating and difficult subject to pin down. Philosophers have been musing over the mysteries of the mind for thousands of years but it is, without doubt, the scientists who find it the most frustrating to study. The subjective nature of the mind makes it ill suited for scientific scrutiny, but scientists have found ways to pursue the matter indirectly. While some scientists have probed the frontier of the mind through behavioral psychology, others have focused their attention on the body and the brain. Many of these scientists are confident that they will inevitably discover the cause of consciousness, a physical explanation for the creation of the mind. Although this is possible, it leads to a conclusion that no one should be in a hurry to embrace. If the mind is created and sustained by the body, a person’s existence ceases at death.

Fortunately, that may not necessarily be true. While any argument for the existence of the mind independent of the body might be considered an appeal for the existence of the soul, that may no longer be outside the bounds of scientific possibility.

As of yet, neuroscientists have not found a physical basis for consciousness, in spite of encouraging data. Nor is there a specific imperative to disprove the possibility of the independent existence of the mind. The scientific objection to the existence of spirits or souls is based on the dualistic assumption that if they exist they must be phenomenon entirely separate from the physical universe, and thus beyond the scope of scientific scrutiny. There is nothing more frustrating than having to search for something that is not there by definition.

The problems accessible to normal science are all those about mental functioning. How does the brain integrate data from different sources? How do long-term and short-term memory interact? What are the effects of damage here or there in the brain? What are the causes and limits of blindsight or of synaesthesia? Any question framed in terms of human perceptual functioning, or motor or other functions, is in principle accessible to scientific understanding, just as the engineer can relate the functioning of the computer chip to its internal architecture. (Blackburn, 2004).

The integration of mind and body allows researchers to probe beyond the limits of the brain, and neuroscientists are not the only ones trying to unlock the secrets of consciousness. Efforts to understand the origins of consciousness have “become the focus of an expanding intellectual industry involving the combined, but not always harmonious, efforts of neuroscientists, cognitive psychologists, artificial intelligence specialists, physicists, and philosophers” (Dolan, 2006, para. 2).

A raft of new brain-imaging and scanning technologies, including computed tomography (CT) scans and positron emission tomography (PET) scans, magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) and functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), and magnetoencephalography (MEG) … [has] enabled researchers to observe brain structure and activity in a variety of noninvasive ways, while … transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS), actually allows the researcher to disrupt activity in the cortex underlying specific mental tasks (Tolson, 2006, para. 12).

Aided by these powerful tools, researchers are probing ever deeper into the structure and function of the brain, providing new insights into the relationship between the body and the mind.

Scientists can locate synaptic connections in space and time, and plot families of pathways between areas of brain activity. Each of the works under review delights in the complexities that are uncovered almost daily. They savour the staggering numbers: 30 billion neurons in the cerebral cortex alone; a million billion synapses. They go on to describe two-way interconnections, simultaneous activations of different areas, as well as the surprising examples of functions taking place without conscious experience at all, as in the famous cases of blindsight, and other clinical surprises (Blackburn, 2004 para. 4).

In place of the classic models of physical-spiritual dualism, modern research envisions the mind-brain relationship as being similar to the software-hardware model of computers.

According to the standard model of the mind sciences, the brain encodes information about the world, the body and its own internal operations in “neural representations”, or stored information. This is used in memory, thinking, problem-solving, planning, physical actions and so on. The model insists that the “mind” is simply the functioning of the brain, thought of as an information processing system. While the precise workings of this system may be debatable, the consensus for the past 50 years or so is that mind must be “in” the brain. The same goes for conscious experiences: if these are produced by the mind in the brain, they must be in the brain too (Velmans, 2006, para. 2).

As Blackburn (2006) observes, “In modern debates, this is not open to dispute. But within that consensus, there is still the question of just how the dependency works. Are there laws that relate the physical and the mental, and if so, why?” There is research that suggests that the relationship is developmental.

In a recent article, Dolan (2006) describes in detail the manner in which constant feedback between the body and brain generate a persistent image of the state of the entire organism that coalesces into a state of consciousness that gives an entity its sense of self. Put simply, the body provides all the structure and stimulation required to achieve consciousness, contradicting the idea of the body and mind as two separate entities working in concert.

Of course, there is nothing simple about it. The brain is a vastly complex organ and consciousness is an extremely perplexing phenomenon. A startling number of brain functions have been observed that “work well enough or better without” consciousness (Blackburn, 2004, para. 14). Such observations prompt some scientists to doubt that consciousness even fits into the causal order of physics. Even with implications that conscious does not do anything, objectively, it is still the definitive trait of the mind, crucial to all experience.

To put as much emphasis as possible on this point, as far as any of us are concerned experience is everything. We exist to experience, it is what makes life matter, and in the event we cease to exist, our experience ceases to exist as well. While science is notably indifferent to this, it is not ultimately an academic issue. “One important lesson that has escaped most philosophers and many neuroscientists is that what seems obvious can change as the science changes” claims Patricia Churchland (2006, para. 6), a philosopher of mind identified by Wade Novin (2004) as a strict reductionist. “With scientific development comes conceptual development, and this alters how we think about and see the world. This applies to our inner world, as well as to our outer world” (Churchland, 2005, para. 6). As neuroscientists sift the brain for a physical explanation of consciousness, quantum physicists have stumbled across something in the foundations of the universe that is as elusive and ephemeral as consciousness.

Pausing for a moment to reflect upon the neuroscientists’ quest, we should ask ourselves what they were expecting to find, precisely, and how deep they intended to go to find it. Take a brain and put it through a blender, break it down to its smallest particles, and there is little likelihood of some new, exotic form of matter or energy being found among the remains. The search for consciousness is not a search for spirit-matter or psychic energy, the point of the whole exercise is to establish that consciousness arises from ordinary matter and energy, presumably due to the unique structure and organization of the brain.

What this means on the most practical level is that scientists are trying to find out what aspect of the physical universe possesses a “subjective” potential. What we know and understand as conscious awareness in the mind is certain to be significantly removed from the most primitive corollary to awareness. We can also surmise that the physical source of consciousness, the quality of raw awareness-or as consciousness researchers would say, qualia-must be a subjective property of something we are already familiar with at the atomic, sub-atomic or quantum level. Otherwise, we return to speculating about a new form of matter or energy.

This is an important clarification, because it asks us to consider the possibility that awareness, ultimately consciousness, is a real phenomenon of matter or energy, rather than an epiphenomenon; an actual thing as opposed to the illusion of a thing. Although it is somewhat foreign to the material-based thinking of science for a thing to have subjective properties as well as objective properties, it is not incompatible with the general premise of existence. Objects may not be “aware” of their existence, but they do have the subjective quality of being. Subjectivity is also somewhat implicit in the principle of reaction. When acted upon by another force or object, an object is subject to the action.

It is not practical to deny the prospect of subjective properties in physical objects, and it is possible it would not occur to anyone to try unless motivated by a desire to deny the notion of proto-conscious or proto-aware matter or energy. Given what is emerging from quantum research, it might, in fact, be counter-productive.

The further one goes down the scale of physical reality, the less material matter appears to be. In fact, the further one goes down, the more reality seems to consist of nonmaterial information, pure potentialities of matter or energy but not quite either. Quantum mechanics has demonstrated the flux of particle and wave at subatomic levels, suggesting that the only fixity at such levels comes from the act of observing the object and arresting it at one or another stage of its being (Tolson, 2006, para. 30).

The implications of an observer-based reality that are found in quantum physics disturb scientists. It raises an unsettling question: If an observer is required in order for the universe to exist, who observed the universe up until the emergence of sentient organisms? The question becomes irrelevant if the universe has some innate capacity of observing itself. Not to say, the universe might be or must be conscious; it is sufficient if matter and energy possess the minimal subjective responsiveness necessary to be affected by the nature of their interactions. If primary particles are “sensitive” to their conditions, an outside observer is not required; the universe could determine itself interactively.

Quantum physics is, of course, more complicated than interpreted here, and even more speculative interpretations have been made based on the implications of the uncertainty principle. A theory developed by Oxford physicist Roger Penrose and Stuart Hameroff suggests that consciousness could serve as an interface between the physical universe and its foundation of quantum information (Tolson, 2006). Inspired by monistic-idealist philosophy, Amit Goswami (2001) proposes that consciousness serves as ground under the foundation of quantum information, an underlying medium and thus an intrinsic part of the universe. While it appears to be another case of resorting to the spiritual, the monistic philosophy does not call for the separation of physical and spiritual existence.

Given what is understood about quantum physics, the concept of monism is startlingly applicable. “[I]n monistic idealism (of the East, at least), there is a symmetry between the subject pole and the object pole of an experience (they both are appearances), whereas in material realism the object pole is considered real and the subject pole a mere epiphenomenon” (Goswami, 2001, para. 10). So, it is not a new idea that objects have a subjective aspect. What that means or how it ultimately applies to our conflict may not be known for some time, as the science of quantum physics matures.

All we can do at this point is ask what is plausible. If a physical explanation of consciousness is possible, is it reasonable to assume that the subjective quality is created from nothing, or would it be more accurate to say that consciousness is the manifestation of some underlying potential that is enhanced, reinforced or focused into consciousness in a brain? Logic dictates that something does not come from nothing. Scientific method is founded on logic. Logically, it should not be possible to create a phenomenon like awareness from nothing. The manifestation of a phenomenon reveals the existence of underlying, if previously unobserved contributing properties or qualities. If this principle is used to determine the origin of awareness, the most reasonable conclusion would be that awareness is a subjective property of matter or energy.

It is possible that this is, in fact, the actual answer. What people experience as awareness might turn out to be a subjective quality of electric, magnetic, gravitic or nuclear forces interacting with each other. Whether this is true or not, any conventional attempt to explain consciousness and the quality of awareness has to be derived from something that is already present in matter or-more likely-energy. In order to find out what might happen to consciousness when we die-what we might experience, or what might happen to our experience-we can consider what we know about the properties of matter and energy.

No one knows what energy is, specifically, and matter is essentially energy invested in structure. The properties of matter and energy are determined by the way they are structured and how they can interact. The forces of gravity, magnetism, electricity, nuclear strong and weak forces emerge at the level where energy is converted into mass. These forces exhibit distinct properties based upon unique and specific structures of energy. Awareness could emerge at a level where energy is converted into information or vice versa. A different parallel with energy can be found in the fact that awareness can be structured into more complex states like consciousness and understanding. The true mortality of awareness or any construct of awareness need not necessarily be less than that of energy or any energy construct, expressed as a force or as matter. The capacity of energy to become and remain structured is the only premise necessary to allow for the possibility of a similar capacity in awareness.

The circumstances of life as we know it suggest that the mind is born in the brain, structured and focused by the body and fed by experience. It is only in the mind that we experience existence. At a certain point in our lives, we become aware of the prospect of death, and while the causes of death can easily be recognized and understood, the personal implications of death remain a mystery. Our beliefs might determine how we choose to face death, but no belief can tell us what will happen to us when we die. In some respects, the question is academic. Whether we want to or not, we are each going to die at some point, and that is the end of life as we know it. Interestingly, the prospect of death does have a way of focusing the mind remarkably. To that living miracle of consciousness, death is not just the end of life as we know it, it is the end of all existence. It is in that moment that the mind discovers that it can no longer afford to take its existence for granted.

References

Blackburn, S. (Sept 11, 2004). The world in your head: are you a qualia freak? A zombie? Can our inner world of sensation, colour and subjective experience ever be completely explained? Simon Blackburn weighs up three attempts to reconcile the mystery that is consciousness with a scientific world view.(Opinion: essay). New Scientist 183.2464 p42(4). Retrieved December 16, 2006, from InfoTrac OneFile.

Churchland, P. (April 30, 2005). Brains wide shut?(Essay). New Scientist 186.2497, p46(4). Retrieved December 09, 2006, from Thomson Gale PowerSearch.

Dolan, R. (Summer 2006). The body in the brain. Daedalus 135.3 p78(8). Retrieved December 09, 2006, from Thomson Gale PowerSearch.

Goswami, A. (October 2001) Physics within nondual consciousness.(Critical Essay). Philosophy East and West 51.4, p535(10). Retrieved December 09, 2006, from Thomson Gale PowerSearch.

Novin, W. (Spring 2004). Can quantum physics explain consciousness? A report on the Quantum Mind conference.(News). Skeptic (Altadena, CA) 11.1 p20(5). Retrieved December 16, 2006, from InfoTrac OneFile.

Tolson, J. (Oct 23, 2006). Is There Room for the Soul? (research into biology of consciousness). U.S. News & World Report 141.15 p56-63. Retrieved Retrieved January 14, 2006, from Thomson Gale PowerSearch.

Velmans, M. (March 25, 2006). In here, out there, somewhere? There’s a revolution looming in consciousness studies, finds Max Velmans, as he ponders recent attempts to locate mind and consciousness. New Scientist 189.2544, p50(2). Retrieved Retrieved December 09, 2006, from Thomson Gale PowerSearch.

Readers from Helium

Among the features not provided for contributors on the Helium website is a way for readers to respond directly to the writers. For now, the only way for readers to respond on Helium is by posting their own thoughts on the topic at hand. Those who are so inclined are welcome to do so, there, but I imagine that not all responses are suited to that approach, so I am inviting my readers to respond here if they prefer.

If you are coming here from Helium, general comments and questions can be made in response to this post. If you are following up on a specific article, however, I would recommend looking for a corresponding post here in the eye of paradox. If there’s an article I have not reposted here yet, you can mention it below and I will add it. At present, my writing pursuits are limited by the amount of free time I have outside of work and school, and that will probably remain the case until I find a way to make some kind of living off of writing.

In response to any questions about my motivations as a writer, or a human being, I choose to write about whatever seems worth thinking about, from any perspective that offers insight. I do not always identify the perspective I am working form, because once I go to that perspective it becomes central to what I am thinking at that point. When possible, I strive to reserve my own opinions for myself; they continue to evolve and refine themselves, shifting to reflect changes in my experience and understanding. It is not necessary to cling to ideas to have a firm grip on them, and even the ones worth holding on to need to be tossed around a bit before we can truly grasp them. I think, as long as my readers can keep that in mind while reading, potential misunderstandings can be avoided.