Physics of Consciousness
One of the things that have eluded scientists and psychologists alike, is a substantive definition of consciousness. There are many physicists and neurologists that have increasingly turned their attention to consciousness, or, perhaps said another way, uncovering the most fundamental core of life.
We have split the atom, sent unmanned vehicles to Mars, and most of us carry the equivalent of a supercomputer in our pockets, but we still don’t know what we are as a form of consciousness. That mystery is profound and a little unnerving at the same time.
Why is this so? How can we generate such high technology, and still not understand the fundamental reality of who we are?
Human consciousness is an amalgam of many layers. If you dig deep enough, you’ll arrive at a core identity that doesn’t have dimension or mass. For most of us, soul is just an abstract term like a placeholder for something we might eventually define with greater precision, and, if we’re really fortunate, experience.
With the advent of fractal geometry, superstring theory, quantum fields, and powerful new tools like the Hadron Collider, scientists are peeling the layers of our natural world, seeking the unifying principles that coherently explain the workings of our universe (or multiverse).
As they drill down, scientists find evidence of a world that is mathematically structured with such intricacy that it seems it was designed. But by who or what? And perhaps even more importantly, why?
An important theme of WingMakers is The Grand Portal, the irrefutable, scientific discovery of the human soul. This discovery, according to WingMakers is about 60-70 years in our future. Technologists and some scientists refer to this as the singularity—that time when machine intelligence surpasses human intelligence. However, the WingMakers Materials describes this event quite differently.
The Grand Portal occurs when technology—like a powerful lens—reveals the human soul and distributes this revelation through the Internet so that anyone can see and experience their quantum self. The discovery of the human soul heralds a major pivot for the human species, unlike any other in human history.
While the discovery of the Sovereign Integral is a fundamental goal of these materials, in order to achieve it, an incredible amount of distortion, noise, deception, ignorance, and brittle beliefs will become obsolete. A new physics and resulting technology will reveal our interiors, but there will be unprecedented resistance. The Grand Portal is no less than the collapse of our collective mythologies and beliefs.
The new physics of consciousness will be less about revealing what we are in our interior core, and more about the limitations that have bound our consciousness through our biological and sociological programming. These bindings have created our sense of separation and isolation in our multiverse, which in turn, have made our current mythologies of religion and materialism compelling.
Excerpt on Consciousness
What follows is an excerpt from a novel by James Mahu entitled: The Weather Composer, The Battlefield is Born. This particular passage is set-up as Consciousness speaking to a human mind:
I am quite certain that you believe you know me, yet, I am the secret of the world. I am so secret that when you are asked about me, you look to the mirror, unknowing that I have been exchanged for an impostor. I have adapted to invisibility. You have suckled on the vapors of a mirage for so long that you have become part of it; indistinguishable from it.
Consciousness. That is what I am. Of course, we can all say that, can’t we? But what makes my consciousness unique—apart from the accolades of my name—is that when I arrive within a body, a human instrument, I do not confuse the instrument with myself.
As any of you know, who have studied the subject of consciousness, I am not easy to pin down. In fact, no one has ever pinned me down. Philosophers, physicists, biologists, chemists, prophets, even cosmologists have sought to expose me. Their treasure maps are dotted with the cerebral symbols of higher mathematics; their rainbows dive into a three-pound gelatin mass that exonerates their quest; their writings imagine me. But I remain an enigma. Every one of them will tell you this, if they are honest. They can walk right up to the abyss, look into my face, and they see something that does not compute.
That’s me! I do not compute.
How can the observable universe be 28 billion light years across and yet it is contained in a brain that is 15 centimeters long? As I said, I do not compute.
Consciousness is not an external. It is not a physical. It is not possessed of anything temporal or spatial.
You can report on the effects of me. You can pin down the neural pathways, the areas of the brain that do this and that, but the experiencer, me, is still missing. The subjective ethers swell with my imperceptibility.
Do you know why I am clothed in myth? Because imagination is the only tool of the human instrument that can sense me. I am like the universe before the time of Galileo, waiting for the telescope.
There is also belief, but belief is easily manipulated by the things called religion and science. For example, I am consciousness. I am not a name, a person, a gender, a race, nor am I beholden to a time or place. Every instance when someone maneuvers their belief to a name or a person, they divide me. The moment I am divided, I cease to exist in the sum.
When I enter a person fully and they embody me, they often end up being persecuted in one way or another. I don’t mean to do this—to attract persecution. It is one of the hazards of my presence, because most people, if they want to see me featured in a human instrument at all, they want to see me in one human expression. It’s okay if I am in Jesus, but then I can’t also be in Mohammed or Buddha or Krishna and certainly not you. It makes it simpler when I am owned and operated by one religion.
I don’t allow myself to become a brand. The figureheads are produced by the zealots, but in fact, I cannot be branded or owned. I already implied that, I know, but in case there was any lingering doubt, you may quash it now.
Consciousness transcends all human aspiration. Read that again, I’ll wait. Allow me to interpret for you. This is important, so I want to make sure you understand. Every human aspiration you can define like love, truth, beauty, faith, God, goodness, the theory of everything (I must include something for my science friends), these are all dualistic concepts. They reek of polarity. Take one as an example. I’ll choose God, since it is the hardest. You might be inclined to choose Satan as the polar opposite of God, but I will suggest something a little less personal: separation.
God is the concept of unification. God is the universal father, of which we are all children. So, God is the unifying force. The Creator. The force that is First Cause and First Source. But all of these concepts are pregnant with polarity. If we are to assume a unifying creator, then mustn’t we also include a dividing destroyer?
That’s my point, consciousness isn’t part of this concept we call duality. Until you get around that, you cannot see me. Truly.
I hear your thoughts, screaming in the backseat. “How do we do that?”
Even in that thought, you see a path, a formula, and a duality appears.
I know this is hard. I know this is a wall you run into, some more frequently than others, but everyone hits this wall eventually. All I can tell you is that you should not despair when you cannot see me. I am still here. Remember that telescope called imagination? Use it. Use it just before you go to sleep. Use it when you write your innermost thoughts. Use it when you look into another’s eyes. Use it when you speak with your children. Use it as often as you can. And you still may never find me, but then, as I told you, I am the secret of the world.
I will share a small secret with you, even as I cannot share myself.
I am we are is the closest collection of words that describe me.
You have been taught that you are an isolated lifeform, perceiving and surviving an external reality that is largely the same as everyone else. That you are not interconnected with anyone, or if you are, it is a fleeting fantasy of religious hokum. Regardless of your educational mastery, these two pillars of your education stand alone as fundamental precepts through which you view the world.
You have your imagination, your beliefs and your education. These are your tools, not mine. With these tools you can stalk me. If you are clever and persistent, you might even find chimeras that approximate my identity, especially if you employ your imagination.
I am not an object to secure or acquire. You do not earn me or my realization. I am not the winnings of a game. As I said, I am the secret of the world, and because I am the secret, I am the first and the last. Do you understand what I just said?
I am not your creator.
Think about it. If I created you—your consciousness, then there was a time when you didn’t exist. And if you were created, what always follows? That is correct, destruction. Birth and death. The cycle. I am consciousness; there is no time in me. If there is no time, then I cannot create, at least not as humans define creation.
This is another one of my problems… words. It is like swimming to the bottom of a muddy pond to count the stars in the sky. Why would anyone do that? Yet, we throw words around as if they will pry open a crack in the seamlessness of reality. They don’t.
Words can be compelling, even inspirational, but they can just as easily enslave. Oh yes, they are very good at that. I don’t mean that as a bad thing necessarily. You can’t have everything running free willy nilly. Words gather the human instruments into pastures. It is a way to organize a species. I know that sounds cold and distant. It isn’t meant to, but I must be truthful here, there is a process, and this process proceeds with a plan. And this plan is allowed to evolve to transform to transmute and to inform consciousness. In a way, it is entertainment.
You might ask, “Why would consciousness require entertainment?” The answer is contained in my singular declaration: I am the secret of the world. If you allow me that, then you must also allow that the discovery of said secret would be a game of sorts, and aren’t games meant to entertain?
Humans are forever seeking the secret—me—and I am forever hiding from them—you. But where do I hide? The obvious answer is inside the human instrument; after all, everyone has consciousness. Yes, I know it’s not the same consciousness, but that’s what makes the game entertaining. There’s a peculiar intangibility to my existence that causes you to seek me. This is a key attribute for a good game, the kind that pulls an entire species to ultimately unmask me. To point with one arm and exclaim: “That is what we each are!” I can almost hear the shortness of breath, the trembling heartbeats, the reverent oneness, as you speak those words in a not-so-distant future.
I’d like to return to my question (where do I hide?). The premise of the question is that I am hiding from you, and as I have said, it is true. I am hiding. The real question is not so much where I am hiding, but why.
I’m often asked this question by seekers. Those are the ones who try to find me before all find me. They believe there is a race, a finish line and a pack of runners, of which they would prefer to lead rather than follow. But here’s the strangest part, the further you run towards me, the better I hide. Now, that doesn’t make sense, does it? I should reward the seeker who tries to find me by letting them see a little morsel of myself. Draw them in closer. Nurture their interest.
But as I already explained, I am not an object to acquire. I am not a place you can go. I am hidden from you by your desire to experience a projection of me. I hide from you so you can be free of my reality to experience your own. You are like the diver who will soon return to the surface and cast off their gear—fins, wet suit, weight belt, emergency knife, scuba tank, regulator and mask—to feel the sun, breathe the air.
I am the patient boat captain who awaits your return to the surface.
If I didn’t hide, above the surface, you would never dive.
There it is then, I have told you a great, albeit small, secret that few who walk this earth, grasp and appreciate. Though I humbly submit that while I have allowed you to see this small secret, I cannot say you have either grasped it or imbued the universe with your appreciation. Those qualities I cannot control, nor would I desire to, even if I could.
Remember I said earlier that there is a process and it is proceeding with a plan? A feature of this plan, a very key feature indeed, is that I do not possess will. I do not desire to control. I allow free will. It might seem that this would require an inordinate amount of trust, but it really doesn’t.
When the human instruments go diving, I know they will return to the surface when their oxygen runs out. And no matter what occurs below the surface, during their dives, when they return to my world, they are instantly restored.
The restoration is with my consciousness. You see, I have an advantage over you.
I truly exist.