by Christian de Quincey, PhD
Psychologist William James had just finished a lecture on the nature of
reality when a little old lady approached him. “Excuse me, Professor,”
she said, “but I’m afraid you’ve got it all wrong. The world is really
supported on the back of a great big turtle.”
The venerable professor, being a gentleman, decided to humor the woman: “Tell me, then, what is holding the turtle up?”
Quick as a flash, the old lady snapped back: “Another turtle, of course.”
“And what’s supporting
that turtle?” James asked, trying
gently to get her to see her mistake. The conversation went on like this
for another round or two until the little old lady interrupted with a
noticeable tremor of exasperation:
“Save your breath, sonny. It’s turtles all the way down.”
At least so the story goes. True or not, the “turtle” incident
illustrates a fundamental intuition we all share about the nature of
reality: Something can’t come from
nothing. Something
must “go all the way down” or all the way back. Even the big bang must
have had some kind of “fuse” (religions, of course, say it was God).
Buddha head in a bodhi tree - Ayuthaya, Thailand
James was teaching around the turn of the last century, but the little
old lady’s point still carries force. In the modern-day version, turtles
are replaced by consciousness. The question now is not what is holding
the world up, but where did mind or consciousness come from? In a purely
physical universe, the existence of mind is a profound puzzle. And if
we are to believe the standard scientific view on this, then mind
emerged from wholly mindless matter. But just
how this occurred
remains a complete mystery. In fact, I believe it couldn’t have
happened without a miracle. And miracles have no place in science. I
propose that our best option is to revive the old lady’s insight and
proclaim that “consciousness goes all the way down.” Mind has always
existed in the universe. Cosmos - the world of nature - has a mind of its
own.
perennial question
What’s the greatest mystery facing every person on the planet?
Ultimately, it’s some version of the age-old “Where do I come from? Why
am I here? Where am I going?” And these questions, which lie at the
heart of all philosophy and religion, can be summed up as, “How do I fit
in?” How do we humans (with our rich interior lives of emotions,
feelings, imaginations, and ideas) fit into the world around us - a world
that is supposed to be made up of mindless, soulless physical atoms and
energy? That’s a
scientific question. And, so far, no one has produced a satisfactory explanation.
We lack an explanation because our questions already assume something
quite disturbing. We assume we are split from nature. We assume that
humans are somehow special, that we have minds or souls while the rest
of nature does not. Some of us draw the “soul line” at higher animals,
some of us draw it at living organisms, but few draw no line at all. Ask
yourself: Are rocks conscious? Do animals or plants have souls? Have
you ever wondered whether worms or insects might feel pain or pleasure?
Can trees feel anything at all? Your answers will reveal where you are
likely to draw the line.
In philosophy, it is called the “consciousness cut.” Where in the great
unfolding of evolution did consciousness first appear? In contemporary
philosophy and science, the cut-off is usually made at brains - if not
human brains then the brains of higher mammals. Only creatures with
highly developed brains or nervous systems possess consciousness, so the
scientific story goes.
Because of our assumed “specialness,” because of the deep fissure
between humans and the rest of nature, because of the mind-body split,
we need a new understanding of how we - ensouled, embodied humans - fit into
the world of nature. Our current worldview, based on the materialist
philosophy of modern science, presents us with a stark and alienating
vision of a world that is intrinsically devoid of meaning, of purpose,
of value - a world without a mind of its own, a world without soul. And
this worldview has had dramatic and catastrophic consequences for our environment,
for countless species of animals and plants, and for the
eco-systems that sustain us all.
Our environment is being rapidly destroyed. We are currently
experiencing a widespread global crisis of unprecedented proportions:
climate disruption, global warming, and vanishing rainforests, along
with their precious biodiversity. We are in the midst of the sixth major
species extinction since life began on our planet. According to some
experts, fully 50 percent of species currently alive will have
disappeared by the end of this century.
Through science and engineering, our civilization has developed awesome
technologies of destruction (some intentional, some not). Potent
nuclear and biological weapons threaten the survival of our species, and
much of the rest of nature.
To grasp just how divorced we are from the natural world, imagine
trying to find your way home from another town or even just across town
using only natural landmarks (without following maps or street signs).
How sensitive and attuned are you to the natural landscape in which you
live? How much has been blocked out, even obliterated, by the
constructed environment of tarmac, concrete, and steel?
Such alienation leads to all kinds of personal and social problems - for
example, people feeling split from their own bodies and from other
people, often unable to integrate their emotions and feelings with their
rational minds, often becoming (or at least believing themselves to be)
some kind of social misfit. How many people feel at home in their own
bodies, feel comfortable at work, with their families, or with
strangers? Millions struggle to search for meaning in an apparently
meaningless universe.
where do we turn for answer?
Unfortunately, modern science and philosophy are the major source of
the problem: Their basic story or worldview is “materialism” - the world
is made up of “dead atoms.” According to science, human consciousness
“emerged” from dead, insentient matter. Nature itself is without any
intrinsic meaning, value, or purpose because it has no consciousness - no
soul. For science, there is no spirit in nature. Humans are thus at odds
with the rest of the world: we are intelligent, while nature is dumb.
By an accident of nature, we are special.
However, science may be seriously mistaken when it asserts that
consciousness is a product of complex brains and that the rest of vital
nature is a product of mindless, purposeless, unfeeling evolution.
We may not be so special.
And as for religion, conventional doctrines promise a reward in some
afterlife. They do not teach us to look for meaning in nature. God is
supernatural, transcendent, above and beyond the world. Yet we are all
conscious beings, aching for meaning. We want meaning in
this
life. How many people wondered about God or prayer in the face of the
9/11 catastrophe, or when a tidal wave obliterated a huge stretch of the
Indonesian coast, or when Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans, or
when Haiti crumbled, or when the tsunami struck Japan and triggered a
nuclear meltdown?
According to many forms of religion, we are special by divine fiat. God
gave us souls so that we may survive and transcend the inevitable
corruption of the flesh. Human consciousness, spirit, or soul is
separate from the physical body, and the path to meaning and salvation
is through prayer to a remote, transcendent God. Attention is focused
elsewhere, either toward the heavens or toward priests, rabbis, or
mullahs.
But the path to the sacred may not be through priests or churches. In
my experience, the sacred is all around us in nature - for example, in
watching a sunset, playing with animals, walking through a forest or on a
beach, swimming in the ocean, climbing a mountain, planting flowers or
vegetables, filling our lungs with fresh air, smelling the mulch of rich
nourishing soil, dancing through crackling autumn leaves, comforting an
injured pet, embracing a loved one, or holding the hand of a dying
parent. The most direct way to God, I believe, is through touching and
feeling the
Earth and its inhabitants - being open to the expression of spirit in the
most ordinary, as well as in the awesome, events of daily life. The way
to meaning in our lives is by reconnecting directly with nature
itself - whether through exuberant participation or the stillness of
meditation, just
being present and
listening.
When we do so, we hear, we feel, and we learn: we are not alone - we are not uniquely special.
For the most part, neither mainstream science nor conventional religion
recognizes that humans are essentially no different from the rest of
nature. Both regard matter and the world of nature as “dumb.” Both
assert that human beings are somehow special and stand apart from nature
because, they say, only human beings - or at least creatures with brains
and nervous systems - have consciousness or souls. In my experience, and
in my philosophy, I see it differently: I say, consciousness goes all
the way down.
mind - the big mystery of evolution
I first became fascinated with consciousness as an eight-year-old kid
in Ireland. The trigger event was discovering an entry on “evolution” in
my father’s tattered encyclopedia. An old line drawing of a dinosaur
caught my attention: Not only was I descended from my parents,
grandparents, great grandparents, and so on, but the entire human race
evolved from some ape-like ancestors, who came from even more primitive
mammals, who came from reptiles, who came from amphibians, who came from
fishes, who came from jellyfishes, who came from clumps of cells, all
the way down to bacteria-like, single-celled “infusoria,” as they were
called in the encyclopedia (which tells you how old it was). I was
astounded to learn that my earliest relatives were bacteria!
I spoke the word aloud, enjoying the onomatopoeia I heard in
it - ”e-v-o-l-u-t-i-o-n.” It sounded like a great unfolding, a rolling out
of hidden forms, now mimicked in the way my tongue uncurled from the
roof of my mouth.
But something else even more astounding grabbed me. Not only was I
mesmerized by images of descending species culminating in this young
fella sitting there at that moment reading a big, dusty old book but
also that stupendous unfolding managed, somehow, to produce the ability
to
look back and contemplate the process of evolution itself. Somehow, somewhere along the line, evolution had become aware of itself.
At what stage did consciousness first appear? I had no answers. The
encyclopedia gave no clues, and my parents and teachers, it seemed,
could hardly understand my questions. They spoke to me of “souls” and
“God’s mysterious ways,” and I was left wondering and unsatisfied,
because, as far as I could make out, they were telling me only humans
had souls. But such religious “explanations” didn’t fit what I had
learned from the encyclopedia nor what I experienced for myself.
Whatever “consciousness” or “soul” was, it was not unique to humans - but
how far back did it go?
I grew up puzzled. Not that such questions burned in my thoughts every
day(or were formulated in words I would use today), but from time to
time, I would think back on those dinosaurs and infusoria and wonder
about evolution, wonder about the feelings and thoughts pulsing through
me and other creatures. That childhood mystery,
Where in the great unfolding of evolution did consciousness first appear?,
stayed with me. Later, it was the guiding template for my college
studies and eventually turned into a career. The deep mystery of the
relationships between consciousness and energy, mind and matter, humans
and nature, became the focus of my work as a teacher and a writer.
radical nature
My work is a cry from the heart, a long and passionate call for a
radically new understanding of our place in nature. By “radical,” I mean
a view of nature and matter very different from the standard view in
physics and Western philosophy. I mean intrinsically
sentient nature. I mean a world made of matter that
feels to its deepest roots. “Radical” comes from the Latin
radix,
meaning “root,” the foundation or source of something. Etymologically,
“radical” is related to “radial,” which means branching out in all
directions from a common center or root, and to “radiant,” which means
filled with light, shining, sending out rays, emanating from a source,
manifesting well-being, wholeness, pleasure, or love. “Radical nature,”
therefore, implies nature that is sentient to its roots, composed of
matter that
feels something of the nature of wholeness and love
all the way down, and that radiates or moves itself from the depths of
its own being.
French Jesuit paleontologist Teilhard de Chardin suggested something
similar with his concept of “radial energy,” which he proposed was the
interior source
of universal attraction and love between all elements of the cosmos,
pulling them toward increased complexity (contrasted with “tangential
energy” that energy physicists work with, which pulls in the direction
of chaos and entropy).
As I mentioned earlier, the standard scientific view of nature is that
it is composed of “dead matter” - so that even living systems are
ultimately composed of unfeeling, purposeless, meaningless atoms
embedded in equally unfeeling, purposeless, and meaningless fields of
force. I challenge this materialist view, which is not only incoherent
but also very dangerous - dangerous because it leads to the self-serving
notion that humans are special and that the world of nature is there to
fulfill our goals and desires. Today we see the catastrophic
consequences of that myth.
We humans are not so special, yet often we think we are. Human
specialness lies at the core of our civilization’s dominant stories. In
the grand narratives we tell ourselves as we try to make some sense of
why we are here at all - in our cosmologies, in our scientific and
religious worldviews—humans are typically the central characters. But
humans, or even other animals, are not the only creatures with minds.
The entire world of nature tingles with consciousness. Nature literally
has a mind of its own. Nature feels and responds to our presence.
In this view,
matter feels, matter is sentient, matter has
experience, matter is adventurous - it probes and directs its way through
the long, winding path of evolution. Evolution then is the grand
adventure of matter exploring its own innate potentials: from its first
appearance after the big bang - from the first atom, molecule, and cell - to
the magnificence and glory of the human brain. The great unfolding of
evolution is literally the story the universe is telling to itself. The
cosmos is enacting the greatest epic drama imaginable. Truly, it is the
greatest story ever told. And we are just one of the storytellers. In
the evolution of the cosmos, matter itself is the prime storyteller.
conclusion: nature is sacred
The one key message I would like to emphasize is that
nature is sacred, inherently divine.
As the ancient Greek philosopher Thales said, “Nature is full of gods.”
Today we might say it is full of God, full of spirit, full of
consciousness. Nature literally carries the wisdom of the world, a
symphony of relationships among all its forms. Nature constantly
“speaks” to us and feels and responds to our stories. Simply breathing
in rhythm with the world around us can be a potent form of prayer. We
can open our hearts and pray to the “god of small things,” for God lives
in pebbles and stones, in plants and insects, in the cells of our
bodies, in molecules and in atoms. And by connecting with the God of
small things, we can discover this is the same as “the god of all
things,” great or small. Yes, God is in the heavens, but God is also in
the finest grain of sand.
I don’t believe we need priests or churches to connect us with some
transcendent, supernatural God. In the religion of nature - of a natural
God - priests become shamans, the whole Earth becomes our church, and the
vast cosmos our cathedral. In nature spirituality, the role of “priests”
is not to be an intermediary between heaven and earth. Rather, they are
guides who teach us to listen to the sacred language of nature - helping
us open our minds and bodies to the messages rippling through the world
of plants and animals, rocks and wind, oceans and forests, mountains and
deserts, backyards and front porches.
We need to develop a deep respect for nature because it is the source
of everything we are. Like us, all of nature has a mind of its own. And
this is because matter is not at all what we normally think it to be.
Matter is not dead stuff. Matter
feels. The very stuff of our
bodies, the very stuff of planet Earth tingles with the spark of spirit.
It is time for us as a worldwide community to rediscover the soul of
matter, to honor and respect the flesh of the Earth, to pay attention to
the meaning, purpose, and value embedded in the world beneath our feet
and above our heads. Maybe then we will save ourselves from the
otherwise inevitable ecological and civilizational collapse that faces
us within our lifetime. I think we can do it. But first we have to learn
to listen.
about the author
Dr. de Quincey is a professor of Philosophy and Consciousness Studies at
John F. Kennedy University, Dean of Consciousness Studies at the
University of Philosophical Research, and founder of The Wisdom Academy,
offering private mentorships in consciousness. He’s author of the
award-winning book
Radical Nature: The Soul of Matter as well as
Radical Knowing: Understanding Consciousness through Relationship.
His latest books are
Consciousness from Zombies to Angels and
Deep Spirit: Cracking the Noetic Code.
To learn more please visit Dd. de Ouincey's
website
Article courtesy of
IONS
