Monday, 2 April 2012

Say a little prayer for the generation of your self-consciousness

Every little gesture you make, disseminates cognitive infrastructuration in the world. We rarely explore intentionally new circuits of the world; and the few new things that are experimented in a day, are vastly overwhelmed by myriads of usual patterns. The way you walk, talk, the small tics, the journey home. Habits root our worldly cognitive being there in the world or if you like the generative production of substantives, our situatedness.

Every gesture is a reminder of our being situated in an environment. If you think that we are a closed system, an entity that can be placed on a shelf or in a storage like a tin, without significant modification, then rephrase it. Quick. What we call “environment” is the world which is familiar to our cognitive system. We are here. I mean we are even more “in” than a fish in a pond. Our mind is not a small dwarf seated behind your eyes. Our mind is the room we walk through, is the body seated in the chair, as well as the perception of objects, light and sounds coming in: we are in the environment.

When you scratch your head, you are re-enforcing the conviction of our brain. We have a very flexible set of movements, we can bend and assume enormous numbers of postures, we can learn to move our bodies in novel ways. This is pretty amazing. Very few animals are so open to new bodily configurations. Every organism is endowed with set of movements to carry out specific tasks in his environment. On the human side instead, we can twist and bend for purposes we invented, like dance, yoga, gymnastic, bondage, etc. etc. Every move is the trail to design a cognitive organization. Follow the pattern and you'll start to represent the establishment of a cognitive pattern. The way you move is yourself. Every little habit concurs to generate the cognitive representation of your brain, the self consciousness of being there.

Every gesture is a little prayer to believe in the awareness of being there. The benign demon that your brain calls “I”, is the bodily navigation in the familiar environment.

Oh my god, I started again to talk like Heraclitus. We must share the same vices. I want to cry. Of joy (but I'm less worried than Heraclitus).

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