NationStates Jolt Archive

Sandy's ( Zooke's ) sudden departure has thrown me for a loop. At times like this I begin to get rather introspective and philosophical. I hope you don't mind if I ramble here a bit.

I'm sure that most of us would aver that life can be very strange and abstruse at times. Seems that about the time you get a few things figured out, it's time to leave. Either that's grossly unfair, or this life is a kind of training camp for something else.

I don't see consciousness as a type of program in the brain composed of genetic hard-wiring and the software of experience. As far as we know at this point, nothing ever truly goes away. True, electrons will eventually lose their momentum and the universe will apparently end in the "heat-death (http://www.physlink.com/Education/AskExperts/ae181.cfm)" of total cold and total darkness, so far as we can determine from what little we know now. But even then, there will be the quantum flux throughout all space.

There are numerous "hints" that humans ( and perhaps other species ) are somehow tied in to each other, and to the universe itself ( ? ), at a quantum level. The Aspect experiments (http://www.ubfellowship.org/archive/newsletters/innerface/vol4_4/page7.html) have proven that quanta somehow are "correlated" and able to "communicate" over vast distances at speeds far beyond the speed of light.

Experiments have shown that prayer and meditation can instantaneously speed healing in both plants and animals (http://home.xnet.com/~spindrif/index.htm). People prayed (http://dosseydossey.com/larry/default.html) for ( whether they know about the prayers or not ) heal faster. There are numerous cases of people knowing things that happen to others over long distances. Animals seem to sense when those who love them are hurt or when they're coming home ( even when there's no schedule to indicate they might be ).

I have come to believe that some sort of consiousness persists after death. Far too many things remain unexplained, such as what I mention above, and things like ghosts (http://theshadowlands.net/ghost/), which have been extensively documented but unexplained, and reincarnation (http://www.geocities.com/richard_holmes/reincarnation/faq.htm#a), for which there exists considerable anecdotal evidence.

I tend to see this life we're now living as a developmental experience, and as preparation for joining some sort of universal consciousness, perhaps at a quantum level. Perhaps what we term consciousness is simply part of the universe's continuing process of self-awareness.

Obviously, I don't have any way to verify that this is the case, but it just doesn't make sense to me that all of this "life" would be pointless and wasted, erased like reformatting your hard drive.

It would be incredible if, when we "die," our consciousness not only continued to exist, but would become inextricably intertwined with the consciousnesses of other things which have been alive; still "self-aware" but also "matrix-aware." Most major religions hint at this, including Christianity: "For then we shall know, even as we are known."

At any rate, thanks for tolerating an old man's ramblings.

I think that, like General George S. Patton, I was a soldier in a previous lifetime as well as in this one:

THROUGH A GLASS, DARKLY


Through the travail of the ages,

Midst the pomp and toil of war,

Have I fought and strove and perished

Countless times upon this star.



In the form of many people

In all panoplies of time

Have I seen the luring vision

Of the Victory Maid, sublime.



I have battled for fresh mammoth,

I have warred for pastures new,

I have listed to the whispers

When the race trek instinct grew.



I have known the call to battle

In each changeless changing shape

From the high souled voice of conscience

To the beastly lust for rape.



I have sinned and I have suffered,

Played the hero and the knave;

Fought for belly, shame, or country,

And for each have found a grave.



I cannot name my battles

For the visions are not clear,

Yet, I see the twisted faces

And I feel the rending spear.



Perhaps I stabbed our Savior

In His sacred helpless side.

Yet, I've called His name in blessing

When after times I died.



In the dimness of the shadows

Where we hairy heathens warred,

I can taste in thought the lifeblood;

We used teeth before the sword.



While in later clearer vision

I can sense the coppery sweat,

Feel the pikes grow wet and slippery

When our Phalanx, Cyrus met.



Hear the rattle of the harness

Where the Persian darts bounced clear,

See their chariots wheel in panic

From the Hoplite's leveled spear.



See the goal grow monthly longer,

Reaching for the walls of Tyre.

Hear the crash of tons of granite,

Smell the quenchless eastern fire.



Still more clearly as a Roman,

Can I see the Legion close,

As our third rank moved in forward

And the short sword found our foes.



Once again I feel the anguish

Of that blistering treeless plain

When the Parthian showered death bolts,

And our discipline was in vain.



I remember all the suffering

Of those arrows in my neck.

Yet, I stabbed a grinning savage

As I died upon my back.



Once again I smell the heat sparks

When my flemish plate gave way

And the lance ripped through my entrails

As on Crecy's field I lay.



In the windless, blinding stillness

Of the glittering tropic sea

I can see the bubbles rising

Where we set the captives free.



Midst the spume of half a tempest

I have heard the bulwarks go

When the crashing, point blank round shot

Sent destruction to our foe.



I have fought with gun and cutlass

On the red and slippery deck

With all Hell aflame within me

And a rope around my neck.



And still later as a General

Have I galloped with Murat

When we laughed at death and numbers

Trusting in the Emperor's Star.



Till at last our star faded,

And we shouted to our doom

Where the sunken road of Ohein

Closed us in it's quivering gloom.



So but now with Tanks a'clatter

Have I waddled on the foe

Belching death at twenty paces,

By the star shell's ghastly glow.



So as through a glass, and darkly

The age long strife I see

Where I fought in many guises,

Many names, -- but always me.



And I see not in my blindness

What the objects were I wrought,

But as God rules o'er our bickerings

It was through His will I fought.



So forever in the future,

Shall I battle as of yore,

Dying to be born a fighter,

But to die again, once more.

Eut, did you ever read any of my Systemity stuff? It's very much along the same lines as this. Please forgive my slant on this, but I think it's appropriate.

People are the product of co-operation on both a micro- and macro-scopic level. Zooke influenced many of us when she was "alive", and in a very real sense gave us all a little bit of who she was. The way I see it, her sense of self isn't destroyed, or even really gone somewhere else; it's spread out among the cultural, biological and spiritual organisms she co-operated with and influenced during her human stay. And in doing so, it doesn't lose any of its unity. It simply, and brilliantly, attaches itself to even more life and love, engaging ever deeper with the universal spirit we call God, or sometimes, the Kami; All are one, one is all, never destroying but eternally creating through the changing connections between all things.

Those who we have loved live on through us, and their influence remains to guide us; it's an idea that gives us all hope in the meaning of our lives and determination to keep going. Even if it's not empirically true, it's an idea worth living for. Or so I like to think. Living on for those who went before us and passing on what we've learned from them - if we can do that, they will never die.

Everyone lives, everyone dies. You've just got to make the most of the living and not worry about the dying.

Everyone lives, everyone dies. You've just got to make the most of the living and not worry about the dying.

Exactly what I was going to say.

Death is a strange bird. Everyone says, "It's natural as rain." If that were true, why do we not greive a thunderstorm?

It is at the same time an awful thing and a wonderful thing.

There is a tribe (I cannot remember who) that mourns births and celebrates deaths. I am somewhat the same way, although I have been learning more and more to stop living in the future or the past in my head and instead look to the present moment for truth, beauty and joy.

Obviously, I don't have any way to verify that this is the case, but it just doesn't make sense to me that all of this "life" would be pointless and wasted, erased like reformatting your hard drive.
Why is it "pointless" or "wasted" if erased? That's the thing.

Does what we do during our lives count for nothing?

EDIT: More importantly, what is erased? Certainly not the accomplishments we had while alive: the interactions, the lives we touched, the emotions we experienced, the brilliant thoughts, the miserable lows, the great works of art and the hard work of hands. What is erased?

I was told by someone that the body inexplicably decreased in mass after death… he seemed to think that this was something to do with consciousness exiting the body.

I've never been able to believe that consciousness stopped after death. The human consciousness is an inexplicable thing - something which we could not imagine stopping. And unless I'm mistaken, things can't be destroyed or created. :)

<snip>

I'm not sure what to say... for myself, I hope you're wrong.
But I know that most people find comfort in the thought that life or concsiousness or even "being" doesn't simply end from one moment to the next.
I think, existence doesn't end that way. Even though you're gone, you were there once, and that did change the world irrevocably. How much of your consciousness remains is hard to tell though...

Personally, I wouldn't want it to continue on.
You mentioned ghosts. From what I read on the subject ghosts are a exception. They originate from traumatic and often tragic fates, very few of them ever died peacefully, and a common trait seems to be a very strong will to hold on to life for various reasons. Most people don't come back as ghosts, for all we know. So, I assume that how much of your consciousness remains here is determined by how much you will to remain... and a person who loved life and as enigmatic as Zooke might leave more behind than many.

There is a tribe (I cannot remember who) that mourns births and celebrates deaths. I am somewhat the same way, although I have been learning more and more to stop living in the future or the past in my head and instead look to the present moment for truth, beauty and joy.

The Celts used to do that. It might be the origin of the "Irish wake".

I was told by someone that the body inexplicably decreased in mass after death… he seemed to think that this was something to do with consciousness exiting the body.

I've never been able to believe that consciousness stopped after death. The human consciousness is an inexplicable thing - something which we could not imagine stopping. And unless I'm mistaken, things can't be destroyed or created. :)

If nothing is created or destroyed, does that mean our consciousness existed before we were born, too?

By the way, sorry to say this Eut, but the prayer studies you described are irreplicable and have probably been debunked. If this sort of thing had been conclusively proven, then the prize these (http://www.randi.org) guys offer would have already been won.

Eut, did you ever read any of my Systemity stuff? It's very much along the same lines as this. Please forgive my slant on this, but I think it's appropriate.

People are the product of co-operation on both a micro- and macro-scopic level. Zooke influenced many of us when she was "alive", and in a very real sense gave us all a little bit of who she was. The way I see it, her sense of self isn't destroyed, or even really gone somewhere else; it's spread out among the cultural, biological and spiritual organisms she co-operated with and influenced during her human stay. And in doing so, it doesn't lose any of its unity. It simply, and brilliantly, attaches itself to even more life and love, engaging ever deeper with the universal spirit we call God, or sometimes, the Kami; All are one, one is all, never destroying but eternally creating through the changing connections between all things.

Those who we have loved live on through us, and their influence remains to guide us; it's an idea that gives us all hope in the meaning of our lives and determination to keep going. Even if it's not empirically true, it's an idea worth living for. Or so I like to think. Living on for those who went before us and passing on what we've learned from them - if we can do that, they will never die.
You're right ... it is very similar. Sometime we should discuss it, but tonight I'm afraid I just don't feel up to it. I hope you understand.

Death is a strange bird. Everyone says, "It's natural as rain." If that were true, why do we not greive a thunderstorm?

It is at the same time an awful thing and a wonderful thing.
Yes, there comes a time to let go and move on. Sometimes I think it would be so nice to just give up and pass on, but it's just not in me. I sometimes think my survival instinct is way too strong.

Why is it "pointless" or "wasted" if erased? That's the thing.

Does what we do during our lives count for nothing?

EDIT: More importantly, what is erased? Certainly not the accomplishments we had while alive: the interactions, the lives we touched, the emotions we experienced, the brilliant thoughts, the miserable lows, the great works of art and the hard work of hands. What is erased?
I don't mean to take anything away from the lives we touch and the contributions we make. I was speaking of the pattern of consciousness which is pecularly "ourselves."

I was told by someone that the body inexplicably decreased in mass after death… he seemed to think that this was something to do with consciousness exiting the body.

I've never been able to believe that consciousness stopped after death. The human consciousness is an inexplicable thing - something which we could not imagine stopping. And unless I'm mistaken, things can't be destroyed or created. :)
That's a corollary to Murphy's Law: "Nothing ever goes away." :)

I'm not sure what to say... for myself, I hope you're wrong.
But I know that most people find comfort in the thought that life or concsiousness or even "being" doesn't simply end from one moment to the next.
I think, existence doesn't end that way. Even though you're gone, you were there once, and that did change the world irrevocably. How much of your consciousness remains is hard to tell though...

Personally, I wouldn't want it to continue on.
You mentioned ghosts. From what I read on the subject ghosts are a exception. They originate from traumatic and often tragic fates, very few of them ever died peacefully, and a common trait seems to be a very strong will to hold on to life for various reasons. Most people don't come back as ghosts, for all we know. So, I assume that how much of your consciousness remains here is determined by how much you will to remain... and a person who loved life and as enigmatic as Zooke might leave more behind than many.
The term "ghosts" was used by way of illustration to show that some sort of consciousness or "personal matrix," if you will, continues after death.

If nothing is created or destroyed, does that mean our consciousness existed before we were born, too?
I don't think so. It may have some prior existence as an "empty matrix," but I think one of the purposes of being alive is to fill the spaces with experience.

By the way, sorry to say this Eut, but the prayer studies you described are irreplicable and have probably been debunked. If this sort of thing had been conclusively proven, then the prize these (http://www.randi.org) guys offer would have already been won.
Did you read the articles I linked to? Dr. Dossey was my Batallion Surgeon in Vietnam and we talked for many, many hours about all this. He's now the author of a number of books on the subject.

Yes, there comes a time to let go and move on. Sometimes I think it would be so nice to just give up and pass on, but it's just not in me. I sometimes think my survival instinct is way too strong.

Aye ... and I agree. You and I have seen a very different life. You've suffered life and limb to fight Congress's enemy - and I thank you with every waking breath for that - and I have stayed here at home and fought Congress concerning injustice and exclusivity.

At no moment, when you were in the God forsaken jungle, did you give up and pass on. You stayed, you fought, and you did what you believed to be the right thing to do - just as I have done at every turn when I have spent a night in jail for not getting the proper permit for marching on Austin for women's rights. (No, not a real comparison, just a hyperbolic one)

Survival is life. Life is essential. Even if it means nothing in the end, the fighting for it will truly be all that matters.