The world each person creates for himself
is a distinctive world, not the same world others occupy
Dean
Barnland
I am alive. This is my body. This is my world. This is my mind. This is my consciousness. It is at once both exhilarating and disqueting, for it leads to the natural question: who am I? And then to: how did this happen? And on and on; to so many more, as one thinks more deeply about the concept. What, for instance, is consciousness, self-awareness? Is it energy? Is it spirit? Is it portable; able to simply flash into any being, any place, any time? Why in this body, and not a frog? It's like thinking about the universe before there was a universe - where did all this stuff come from and what was there before that moment when it all flashed into existence? Where did the consciousness that is me come from, and what was it before?
For me, the most frequent question is: what has animated me? What cosmic decision put me here, in this body, in this place, at this time? While I don't believe in a "god in heaven" in the traditional sense, I do wonder what or who the agent is that has caused me to, not just pop into being, but also be aware that this has happened, and continues to happen.
My questions are not novel; philosophers have been bouncing this volleyball around forever. But I think it matters that I pursue this question, and all the corollary questions, myself. Whether or not I achieve any answers isn't really important - I suspect any conclusions will continuously change anyway; what's important is the pursuit.
These moments, when they happen, make me feel both more solid and real, and at the same time, more empty and alone. Apart from accidental events - and our lives are full of them - I realise that I am the sole consciousness responsible for all that I do.
It's a frightening opportunity, this being alive.
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