Part 2
Section 1 ...In ReviewSo what is consciousness anyway?
I was feeling pretty giddy as we landed in the next Chapter. Bo pulled me to my feet and I noticed we were in an elevator. Out of curiosity, I glanced up to see what floor we were on. The arrow was straining to reach Floor Number 11. It wavered tautly as if being held back by a great force.I perched closer to read the fine print under the glowing 11. "Is it over when it's over?"
"Well, how come we're not going anywhere?" I sighed, not really that anxious to proceed to one of the most baffling questions mankind has ever faced.
"Seems we still have some unfinished business here in the first half of Part 2," Bo grumbled. He read the rest of the fine print on the floor indicator beneath the arrow. "Apparently your dream doesn't think we've talked about consciousness enough. Well, I'm filing a complaint. If you'll remember we went into it in great detail with that flaky teacher you conjured up..."
"Well, that was just one explanation of consciousness..."
"Jack, I'm sick of hearing about consciousness. I think, therefore I am -- that's good enough for me!"
"So, what are we waiting for?" I whispered after another few moments of silence.
"Oh, sorry," a voice said from above us. We both looked up, and there, plastered on the ceiling was... another me.
I rolled my eyes. "Not again..." I muttered.
Bo looked hurt. "Oh, thanks. So, I'm not doing the job right, and you go and call in another chump to help me along. Thanks a lot, buddy...pal...I...I wasn't doing so bad!"
"Hi guys!" the flattened me piped. "It's me, Id. You think you could peel me off, please."
Bo stayed put. I shrugged and reached up to pry myself off the ceiling.
The pancake me held out his finger. "You wouldn't mind inflating me, would you? There's nothing like an inflated ego to see things in the proper perspective," he chuckled.
After a few huffs and puffs Id was bigger than life. "Now I'm superego!" he laughed, jumping up and down.
"Hold on there, pal," Bo yelled over the bubbling laughter. "You said you were Id, now you're superego. That doesn't make any sense."
Bo started flipping through the pages of a dictionary that was resting on a podium at the back of the elevator. Funny, I hadn't remembered seeing it a moment ago. But dreams are like that sometimes. Especially this one.
"Id...completely unconscious..."
"Which I was, until you rescued me..." Id insisted.
Bo sneered. "Um...source of psychic energy derived from instinctual needs and desires..."
"Yeah, yeah, so, I'm the unconscious you that makes sure you look out for yourself. So...?"
"So..." Bo snapped, flipping some more pages. "Super ego is partly conscious...the internalization of parental consciousness and rules of society...um...uses conscience and guilt to reward and punish..."
"Yeah, so...the guy in you that keeps you in line, making sure your Id doesn't get carried away. So?"
"So, how can you be both?"
"Well...actually...they were short on staff, so I've got to cover a whole bunch of roles. I'm your subconscious, and your memory and...would you rather have them send in more Us's?"
"No, no!" we both gasped. Three was more than enough, thank you!
"As a matter of fact, we're all playing several different roles in this dream, if you haven't noticed. Which I'm sure you haven't."
We grumbled a protest, but not too loudly, because we really had no idea what this Id character was talking about.
"Well, let me explain," Id sighed with a wry smile. "Jack, well Jack is our soul, the Observer, the inner us that is deep within. You know what I'm talking about?"
"Not really," Bo and I muttered.
"And of course he's also the kook that's dreaming this strange odyssey!"
Now that I knew.
"Your faithful Bodisatva here..." Id couldn't help himself and burst out laughing.
Bo was really angry now.
"Sorry," Id giggled, trying to contain himself. "Well, our good buddy Bo is our Ego, our active, present consciousness. I guess you'd say he's the Jack the world sees, whereas you Jack, are the Jack inside that you think of as yourself."
Gee, that really cleared things up. Souls, egos, ids, super egos...My head was spinning!
"Look!" Id groaned. "You guys have come this far, and you don't have a clue about what's going on, do you?"
We didn't answer.
Id whipped out an easel and some crayons and started drawing on a giant pad. "Look, this is what consciousness is. The Ultimate Reality consists of 5 layers of consciousness," he began, and drew five concentric circles.
"Oh, no!" Bo groaned. "This sounds like that Eastern stuff again..."
Id didn't even pause. "This outer layer is the body, or maya to the ancient Hindus. The next circle is the mind, or the body's consciousness. The next layer is the soul, the Observer, or the self. This second to last level is the spirit, Atman, or the Self. Finally, the inner layer is the Ultimate consciousness, known to the Hindus as Brahma, or to us Westerners as God."
Id smiled at us as we stared dumbfoundedly at the figures. Then suddenly he ripped the page off and began drawing another even more detailed diagram full of boxes and circles and triangles and squares and lines joining them together in a twisted, tangled network.
"Okay. This is the Environment. Stimuli are received by the body, and the body sends stimuli to the environment. Stimuli are sent to the brain and then pass into the gatekeeper between body and mind, the great compiler, Id the needs and drives that makes sure we look out for ourself. Stimuli are either sent back down through the brain which autonomically sends a message to the body to act (you know all the reflexive activities that never even enter into your consciousness) or the stimuli pass through the compiler into the second level of consciousness, the mind."
"Ugghh..." Bo hissed.
"At this stage the stimuli are now perceptions. They pass either into the ego (the active, present consciousness) or into the subconscious (our mind's automatic pilot which we're not totally conscious of, but which we may remember at a later date). Now if the perception went to the ego it quickly passes into the capsulation of memories, or COM. This is located in the brain's memory storage cells. It consists of short-term and long-term memory. Perceptions pass first into the short-term memory. Then they travel to the super ego -- our norms, roles, patterns and habits -- in other words, 'who' we are. When perceptions pass through the rose-colored glasses of the super ego they take on our own unique interpretation. The perceptions can then reenter the COM into the long term memory, or they may pass into the subconscious, or into the ego, our active consciousness. I should note that perceptions may emanate from the long-term memory at any time affecting the subconscious, super ego, or the ego. However, depending on the condition of the brain's storage and retrieval system the perceptions can become jumbled and confused and misfiled."
Id took a deep breath and was about to continue, but Bo's snoring was so loud at this point that he spun around angrily, and leaning towards Bo's ear yelled, "Mr. Bodisatva, would you like to continue the discussion?"
Bo had been leaning back in a chair in the corner, and as he jumped up, the chair broke into splinters and he tumbled to the ground. He was quite awake now.
Id smiled ruefully. "Sorry. I was just looking after our needs." Then he looked serious again. "I don't know what to do about you two. I've just barely begun this discourse and already you're falling asleep."
"I..." I stuttered. But the truth is, I was beginning to nod off too.
"I didn't even get into how the Observer 'sees' what goes on, or how stimuli can pass from the Ultimate through the spirit through the observer into our subconscious, and, oh...I guess I'll just have to take you on the tour."
"The tour?" Bo and I sighed. "Look, Buddy," Bo growled, "we're not buying this Ultimate consciousness crap upon which you're basing this theory. We already had a sort-of-sufficient peek at the scientific view of consciousness, and that was more than enough!"
"Sorry, equal time and all that..." Id giggled. "Now hold on, we're going down. First Level," Id called and whipped out an elevator cap. I should also note that unlike us, he was wearing clothes. The proper clothes for an elevator man. Obviously he was filling in for yet another character in my crazy dream.
Then suddenly we lunged down and I started to feel nauseous. We stopped and I felt my head floating upwards. The door opened.
"The body..." Id announced pointing outside the elevator.
My body, to be precise. There I was this giant, naked guy floating in space.
"Observe the physical construction..." Id continued.
My poor body was then subjected to all kinds of x-rays in all sorts of weird lights that highlighted the circulatory system, the nervous system, and every system I'd ever heard of, and quite a few I hadn't.
Id pointed everything out with a perfect tour-guide voice. "Chemical reactions and electrical impulses operate the activities of the body. Each stimulus produces a response. Much the same as the activities of an automated robot," Id was saying.
"Thanks," I muttered.
"And now we will proceed to the Second Level.." Id concluded and the door closed.
"Bye..." I sighed, waving to the poor dumb slob floating out there.
"Second Floor," Id declared as the door opened. "Voila, the Mind," he said, pointing out to my blubbery brain.
It came in closer, as if being focused under a giant microscope. Suddenly, we were looking inside, and there were threads and tissues, and tiny blobs of light were exploding as messages were transmitted in and out.
"Like the intricate circuitry of a computer, the brain is a complicated neural network. Like a computer, the brain can store information. Inner programs allow it to retrieve that information, assimilate it, and interact with the real world."
"OK..." Bo conceded.
"Stimuli are received by the body and travel to the brain where they are noted, and processed, and the brain sends a message to act..."
"Still sounds good..." Bo was really paying attention. I tried to do the same.
"The 'mind' is the culmination of the thought processes that go on in the brain. It is the 'you' that rambles on incessantly inside your head, analyzing problems, working out scenarios. The Id is a part of the mind, yet also a part of the body, and yet not totally one or the other. It is the filter between the mind and body. All stimuli and perceptions and thoughts are colored by your needs and desires."
"Plug yourself at every opportunity, why don't you?" Bo mumbled pulling up another chair. Apparently he was beginning to lose interest. He lay back in his new chair, and closed his eyes.
Id was unperturbed.
"The mind is also comprised of the superego -- your morality which arises from all of the stored information that you've acquired, the ego -- your active, present consciousness..."
He turned to my active, present consciousness, who was at this point unconscious.
Id rolled his eyes, annoyed. "...the subconsciousness and the capsulation of memories."
I yawned uncontrollably.
"Well, it seems to me that the two of you just aren't interested in this," Id grumbled.
"No take your time, I'm enjoying this immensely, really." Unfortunately I wasn't too convincing because I yawned my way through my defense.
Id clicked his tongue and closed the door. After thinking a moment he opened it back up. After all, this was his place in the scheme of things, the place he felt most at home.
"Anyway," Id began, "science would claim that these first two levels are all that exists."
"Got that right!" Bo mumbled in his sleep.
"Humpf!" Id snorted. "Even a computer would have consciousness if you fed it enough information and it had an advanced enough artificial intelligence program. But, as you and I well know, there is something more than just the body and the mind. There's you..." Id snapped, turning to face me. I had just nodded off.
"Huh?"
"The ego, the soul, the inner you, the self, the Observer..." Id growled. I looked sheepishly pale.
Id sighed, and then he put his arm around me. "You are the part of us that sifts through all the voices in your head and evaluates them. The part of you that you think of as the real you, not just the businessman, or the doctor, or the husband, or the father -- the 'you' inside."
I nodded blankly, feeling as lost as Bo, who was squirming uncomfortably in the corner of the elevator, trying to drift off into another dream.
Id continued on. "The you that's disappointed in what life has offered you. The you that wants to change yourself to be who you want to be. The you that sets goals, and pushes you over obstacles to achieve those goals, even if they are abstract and intangible. The you that watches life go by, and feels like you've never really lived, never been able to hold onto anything. The you that lies awake at night wondering what it's all about...the you...Would you like to take it from here, Bo?" Id growled as Bo, awake now, was mockingly mouthing Id's words behind his back.
"I, uh...This is all news to me. I don't know what's going on."
"I thought as much. You never do! The active consciousness is always stumbling in the dark. Well, let's go to the Third Level then, shall we?"
It was really weird. Looking out the elevator door I could see my nose. It was giant. And I could see my hands down below. And when I looked to the left, the whole scene turned to the left.
Meanwhile Id had started in again. "Many stimuli go directly from the body to the mind and back to the body, with the soul never being 'aware.' Like the beating of your heart, or any of the billions of reflexive activities your body is engaged in each day without you being conscious of them. Your soul takes a back seat when you interact with the world. When you're talking with a friend, for example, you often just slip into a familiar pattern, and the words flow out without any conscious thought. And then suddenly 'you' step in and realize something you said was not what you meant, and you redirect your thoughts and actions to correct the mistake.
"The Three Lower Levels of Consciousness, the body, mind and soul, work together to make up the entity that you think of as yourself. They work together to interact with the physical world around us. The soul sees an idea in an abstract flash, the mind puts it into thoughts, and the body works to turn these thoughts into words or actions."
Bo had fallen asleep again, and I have to admit, it had already gotten quite a bit more involved than my mind could handle. I started to yawn, and leaned sleepily on the elevator rail.
"Look, they told me you 'needed' to know this stuff. Personally, I'd just as soon attend to more pleasurable pursuits..." Id growled.
"Oh, no. No. I'm interested, really. It's fascinating stuff. Honest." I threw my hand over my face to hide yet another yawn.
Id shrugged as the elevator door closed. "The soul is also the gatekeeper between the spiritual realm, and the physical realm of reality. It is not quite spirit, and not quite physical."
The door opened to the Fourth Level.
"The Spirit," Id said, and all I could see were these glowing threads that stretched in the darkness in every direction. We focused in on one and descended in its warm beam.
Down below I could see myself walking down the street outside my house. We were getting closer and closer and then suddenly we burst inside my brain, and I was aware that I was standing in the street outside my house, but I had a vague feeling of being someplace far away. Actually, it was a feeling of being up in the elevator with Bo and Id...
Then slowly we were drifting back up the glowing thread, shooting faster and faster, and the brilliant light grew more intense.
"We are now entering the Fifth and Final Level of Consciousness," I heard Id's distant voice whisper through the blinding light. "GOD ..."
The next thing I know I'm shooting back down the thread, the Observer sees it, the mind puts the experience into actual thoughts, and my physical body on the street gasps, "Oh, my!" and runs into the house.
The elevator door closed. But before it did, I saw a billion, billion glowing threads all reaching up to that blinding light.
"Well, there you saw the two spiritual levels of consciousness -- the spirit and the Ultimate Consciousness (or God or Everythingness, if you prefer). The spirit is actually the Light of life. It is the spark that makes a living creature alive. It is also the vehicle that allows the Ultimate Consciousness to live through us. The spirit, or Atman, as the ancient Hindus called it, is hidden within us, but it is part of the Ultimate Consciousness. Atman is a wave in an ocean. The wave cries, 'I am a wave, I am a wave!' Then it breaks on the shore and becomes a part of the ocean once again. Just as we hold on to our individuality, only to become a part of the Ultimate through death."
I tried to stop yawning. "Now, that I know about..." I sputtered. Id continued on, oblivious to Bo's snoring.
"However, even in life we travel to that ultimate reservoir of Everythingness. For every life is simply a story in that ultimate reservoir. Each of us is an actor in our story. We go through our lives interacting with reality by using the lower levels of consciousness. That deeper part of us, the inner spirit, however, is One with every inner spirit..."
Bo yawned rather loudly and slowly opened his eyes. When he saw where he was he groaned and tried to go back to sleep.
Id rolled his eyes and continued. "That is, the inner spirit looking out through each actor's eyes for the duration of that actor's life, is really the same for every actor. For in eternity, time and space have no meaning. Thus it is the Ultimate Consciousness that is looking out through each person's eyes at the same time."
Bo groaned and opened his eyes. He started laughing sarcastically. Apparently he had heard some of the discourse. "Look pal, in case you haven't noticed, people are different. You're saying that inside we're all the same person?"
"Exactly."
"That's bunk. Jack, you gonna listen to this baloney?"
"Picture yourself at a movie theater. Aren't there moments when you become involved with a good movie, and you find yourself blinking, seeing the people in front of you, noticing there is a two-dimensional picture on the screen, but a moment ago, even if for only an instant, you felt like you were someplace else, living another's life."
I was nodding, because I remembered the previous chapter when I had just such an experience at the movie theater.
"We call this vicariously experiencing something else. When we're watching the movie, we relax our bodies, our thoughts are calmed, and the Observer focuses totally on what is happening before us. Even if it is only for an instant, we 'identify' with a character and vicariously live out what he is experiencing. We become that person. What has happened is that the spirit travels into that ultimate reservoir and 'lived through' another story."
Bo was snoring again.
"Some people don't like to read fiction, or watch movies, or dream, or vicariously experience anything at all. They have their own 'real' goals and they strive unceasingly to achieve them. At the opposite end, there are artists who are constantly delving into the ultimate reservoir, working through the limitations of their mind and body to 'create' or actually 're-create' that which they 'felt'.
"Thus we find the reason we are each different, although the same. We all travel to that ultimate reservoir, but each actor has his own limitations. We may all see the same movie, but different parts have different meanings and different effects on different people. Many times people can almost see a particular idea in their head in a moment of absolute clarity. It seems complete and whole, but they may spend hours, days, or even a lifetime working to express a single idea in this physical world."
My head was spinning. I felt like I was going to pass out.
"Do you understand, Jack?" Id asked politely.
"Well, not exactly..." I confessed.
"Well, let's go back to the mind, then."
I rolled my eyes as the elevator descended back to the Second Level. I felt really sick now.
"Let me try to explain why you're confused. People are born into this world. They observe and interact with reality to survive. To do this they receive stimuli and transmit stimuli.
Modern people are bombarded with an overwhelming amount of stimuli each day. Our bodies miraculously process and store these stimuli, usually without any conscious effort on our part. We can tune into certain familiar stimuli, letting others go unnoticed, or we can tune into new stimuli..."
My head was pounding. I tried to tune Id out. I'd had enough. More than enough. I could see his words on a long endless page. I tried shrinking the words with my mind so I could get through it faster. Id rattled on and on, but I skipped to the end of the chapter, and I suggest you do the same.
"...These stimuli are then processed. Consciously or unconsciously these are agreed on, rejected, or left undecided. They can then become part of our capsulation of memories. This COM is a bank or reservoir which we can draw upon for further interactions with reality. Because of the overabundance of stimuli acquired, specific memories become faded, most become lost (sometimes over time, sometimes almost immediately), or they may mix with other memories. However, a certain amount becomes a part of the composite person, that is our 'personality' which is who we are to the rest of reality.
"We are all actually many different people. We act differently with different people and in different situations. When we're with people we've interacted with before, we often just slip into the role we've grown accustomed to playing without even thinking about it. Someone observing us objectively might think we were completely different people if they compared the way we acted in each situation.
"Whether this composite person is the person we think we display to the outside world, whether it is the person others perceive, or whether there is an objective composite person is a matter of debate. For each observer's perception of the composite person could be different, depending on the particular actions observed, and depending on the observer's own capsulation of memories.
"For, as you see, our capsulation of memories influences the ways in which new stimuli are processed, and how much of the stimuli become incorporated into our composite person. Thus, it is an ever-changing composite person that is our tool for interacting with the world. Or, in terms of the Ultimate Reality, it is through the composite person that the Observer sees the world -- our own rose-colored glasses, if you will.
"There is a constant interaction between watching and observing and acting through the COM. Thus, the Observer may see a situation or goal clearly, for this perception is perceived without thoughts or ideas, but it must struggle through the limitations of the composite person's thought patterns and interacting abilities to put these visions or goals into ideas, and then into actions.
"Thus we can see that our perceptions of reality are based on our capsulation of memories, which is constantly changing with new stimuli. Our own personal history consists of the events that we performed in reality. However, as soon as the event has taken place, it becomes a memory of the event, and is stored in our capsulation of memories.
"If there were other observers of a particular event, each would have his own memory of that event, and there would undoubtedly be as many interpretations as there are observers!
"Sometimes we forget about an event that happened earlier in our lives, and we see a picture of it, and are told by someone else the 'story' of that event, and henceforth this new-old memory is incorporated into our COM.
"Furthermore, we have become, to a great extent, a vicarious society. Entertainment fills up our leisure time. And this entertainment consists of books, TV shows, and movies, which give us capsulations of others' lives, whether real or imagined. But all these enter our COM. Initially event stimuli are tagged with the particular individual who completed the event. However, as time passes the tags become jostled and confused. How many times have you scratched your head and said, 'Now who was I with when such and such occurred?' How many times have you attributed a certain action to someone, only to be reminded it was someone else!
"Even though we do not attribute vicariously experienced actions to ourselves, the emotions and internal reactions resulting from these vicarious experiences assimilate into our composite person, depending on how much that experience 'influenced' us. Is it not true that sometimes people see a particular fad, or personality type that they find intriguing, and overnight they transform their entire personality into a copy of the original prototype (with their own particular interpretations, of course).
"Furthermore, isn't this what happens whenever we become believers in anything. For a time we latch onto this new idea, and it totally, or partially consumes us. However, fads die down, and this new stimuli slowly fades from the composite person as new stimuli are received. A certain amount will remain, the rest is stored in the capsulation of memories. Often we encounter experiences, live through them, and think we are past them. But then we find ourselves acting a different way in certain situations. The event has slipped in and influenced our COM without our knowing.
"Since every event, 'real' or vicariously experienced, turns into a memory, is it no wonder people often feel they have experienced something, only to remember it wasn't a real experience at all, just something they read about, or saw in a movie?
"Actually, the end product is the same. That is, whether a person vicariously experienced an event or 'really' lived that event, it is the same in their own individual reality. When it comes right down to it, a person is born and a person will die. It is the COM which has molded him and shaped him and influenced him to interact the way he did during his lifetime. We may be molded and shaped by the way others perceive us, but we are really all isolated entities whose reality is based on our capsulation of memories. A person's history can be written by several people, or by the individual himself, but this will contain only events that transpired. What about the countless intangible vicarious experiences, and hopes and dreams that were lived in mere instants, but were no less real to the COM which recorded and utilized them?"
Id finally stopped talking, and the pounding in my head started to subside. But then I saw that look in his eyes, and I knew he was only getting warmed up. I looked over to Bo for help, but he was still snoring in the corner.
Id opened his mouth and I screamed a primal therapy scream so loud the elevator burst, and we plunged into the beyond and...
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