On the other side of the napkin, any human upbringing is a 360 degree, twenty-four-seven education in thing-consciousness. What is not a ‘thing’ either doesn’t exist or is simply imagined to be a ‘thing.’ Like the atom. Like a thought. Like God. The upshot being that we recognise but do not fully see. The brain, being a closed circuit system and rightly assuming itself to be floating near-weightless in the dark, prefers recognition over seeing. Forever aspiring to make like it’s walking heftily in the light, the brain merely wants to know what is out there. This is a footpath. That is a peach tree. I am now making love with my wife. Of course, it needs a minimum of information before it can recognise. But if the brain receives intelligence that what’s in front of it is a peach tree, it immediately superimposes the mental picture of a peach tree on top of reality, blanking out the tree, much in the same way that, given my tinnitus, I can barely hear cicadas. To be fully awake to an actual peach tree, or anything else, is of no particular importance to the brain. If it was, the brain would then be in the position of having to blank out its own activity, which, for whatever reason of its own, it is entirely disinclined to do.
In a nutshell? The brain don’t see too much. It needs glasses.
One obvious consequence of all this is that it becomes very difficult to describe the world. It’s just so full of names.
Logically speaking, a ‘thing’ can hardly be said to exist. It is a two bit concept made up by The Lords Of Wandering Around In The Dark and spooned out to every infant from birth on. The concept of a ‘thing’ is a relative house of cards, given that nothing can exist on its own.
In reality, if the human being were able properly to see, he or she would perceive nothing but divinity.
Relationships.
Intervals.
Erroneous dances of facts and angles.
Aches of any kind.
And if every single human being on the planet were able to see, would then all warring, all misunderstanding, all ugliness, hatred, stupidity.. would all these be suddenly and irretrievably washed away by the overwhelming beauty of existence?
And when we looked back at our present lives after such a hypothetical flood, would we then wonder what the fuss was all about?
Or would we all starve to death, pretty much like the Neanderthals?
