My Own Sense

My own sense:

my own sense is that consciousness is all there is, everything. It’s not that the universe itself is conscious, as that would imply even a slight degree of separation, but that consciousness is being expressed as the universe — a subtle, yet important difference. This isn’t quite panpsychism, which holds the view that mind is a built in feature of reality, consciousness infused, and that there is some sort of interaction between matter and the non-material stuff of the mind. I like that idea too, but it’s not the sense I get as my thoughts quiet and the universe seems to open itself as my own seamless state of being.

all I know is consciousness.

of course I could be wrong, it could really just be the byproduct of a chemical reaction occurring in my brain, or perhaps the universe is only a simulation written in code by some higher intelligence and we’re living in a fiction of a world. My insights provide no absolute truth to anything, just a sense, a faint idea that holds itself as a possibility of how things might be. I’m not invested in any belief, and my very next insight could prove that my every last thought is completely wrong.

my own sense is that I’m aware, happily so, and that through this awareness I’m intimately involved with the world, a deep belonging that defies description even as it’s expressed through every aspect…