Welcome

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Hello, all good people...

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Salutations, I am Craig Willms creator of the Protohuman blog. The blog itself, as a weblog is now defunct. I have not posted since 2014, and I don't intend to resurrect it now. 

However, I own this space so to speak, and I have things I'd like to post in the form of essays, articles and personal notes simply as a record that I had these thoughts and sought to write them down before I lose myself. I'm under no illusion that anyone will read them - or care one wit. 

Still, there is a chance that someone will look me up after my death and find my online life. We live in the first era where we can preserve our thoughts indefinitely due to the way back machine, aka the Internet. Prior to the Internet you'd have to be published to have your writings preserved outside of your personal notebooks. Therefore, the essays and personal anecdotes that follow are something I want associated with me. 

The articles/essays are in no particular order, relevant perhaps, but may have been superseded by events that followed. I maintain the right to be wrong about any of it...

que sera sera!

Hold on!! Wait!

     Take a minute to look at my art and listen to my music. 

    - please see the links in the Recommended Sites section on the right ==============>  

                     

Is it any wonder... We need a miracle

by Craig Willms

With all the trouble in the world we'd be wise to understand what is at the very heart of it. That's easy. The obvious answer as well as the true answer is - the eternal battle between good and evil. Great, fine, now define in sociological terms the good side and the evil side. Not so easy is it.

I'll start. I say the forced collectivism sought by communists and socialists is evil. They, on the other hand, might claim evil is the greed, the inequality of individualists and capitalists. Who is right? I can't really answer, how could I? I am firmly on the side of individualism and free markets. The leftists who seek full control of human life are quite sure they are right; they have no qualms about forcing their "beliefs" on you and me at every turn. Capitalists and those who promote individualism are in theory supportive of voluntary participation. The collectivists are not, they demand of society the false equity of equal outcomes regardless of individual effort or ability (or so they say). Collectivism, as in, to each according to his needs is only correct when it comes to infants and babies, and those who cannot possibly fend for themselves. Everyone else has to work. One should be rewarded according to their effort and their talents. Am I right? Of course, I am.

Ah, but this is where it falls apart. For the destroyers, the collectivists and communists, tend to get all the ammunition they need from the capitalists themselves! The capitalist system is broken, probably always has been. Can it be fixed? Good question. What we have is cronyism, crony capitalism, or what I'd call stacked-deck capitalism. This bastardization of what capitalism should be is giving the bullies and shamers in the collectivist camp everything they need to derail those things that are actually good and righteous. In this crony system the winners collect the lion's share of the rewards. The deck gets stacked in favor of those within their sphere and their families. Where they can, they expertly finagle government policy to quash the competition, or they buy the competition outright. These cronies easily usurp every liberal platitude, valid or not, into the feel-good about yourself ideology and shape them to their own advantage. It's become a very tangled web of diversions, deceit and favoritism. Our elected officials play along, often out of the necessity to survive.

Remarkably this broken system has thrived around multiple centers of gravity for many decades. Not anymore. Slowly over these last few decades the power and wealth got concentrated in fewer and fewer hands. Maybe this was always the inevitable outcome, I can't say, but it's where we are now. Countless wars, hot and cold have been waged between the so-called free world in the West and the dictators of the collectivist cults. None have ended well for either side.

So, which is the real evil? Is it the dictatorial collectivists and communists whose lust for control knows no bounds, or these oligarchical crony capitalists with all their depravity? Don't ask the defense contractors, the finance managers or the pharmaceutical industry you will not get an honest answer. Don't ask college students or their professors you'll get only slogans, fantasy and fluff. Don't bother with the hard-core leftists or the always sanctimonious marxists, who cannot see beyond the boiling rage that anyone might have more than they do. Historically communists are so concerned with keeping an eye on who's behind them with a gun they can't pave a way forward. All of these power centers are blinded by their hollow greed or their disingenuous envy. No conceivable answers can come from either side. They are both quite evil. The rest of us are stuck in the middle. 

Is it any wonder the world seems to exist on a razor's edge. We live in an illusion of order and stability. We teeter on the edge of turmoil raging just below the surface. When order and stability inevitably break down, we will ask how this can this happen? How can it not? 

Looking back there was a point when the world might have ended the infatuation with communism/marxism. It was on the United States of America to foster the new age. Not that the true believers would have miraculously transformed and joined team Corporate America, but the faint hope that lingered for global collectivism could have been rubbed out for good. For a time, the West lifted billions out of abject poverty via the global systems built to defeat the Soviets during the Cold War. It wasn't going to last. Peace, love and understanding is the stuff of pop songs, not reality. Within a decade the American defense industry and their bought and paid for political stooges soon settled on a new enemy to justify greasing the cold war cash machine once again. That enemy was Islam... The result has been two decades of the worst of both of these absolute evils. America lost its chance to be a truly great global hegemon. The West lost its moral compass, if it ever had one.

For the love of money is the root of all evil... (Timothy 6:10 KJV version) seems appropriate here but I would rewrite it: "the love of money and power". Money is necessary, power is intoxicating, the combination of the two is lethal. Clearly this is not an original thought, but nonetheless true. Efforts have been made to separate the two, but never successfully. The reason reform never works is the multiple sets of perverse incentives to prop up the broken system. Doing what's right doesn't win converts or enthusiasts. Is there anything that can be done? Our current situation is so deeply entrenched and the vested interests, including our own, make it nearly impossible to see a way out. 

The pot is starting to boil. The left has the mechanisms of government and culture gripped firmly and the crony system is vacuuming up the money. We'll never climb out of the water we're drowning in. The money elites and their billions have allied with the cultural marxists in some misguided notion that they'll somehow escape the destructive crash the collectivists have been orchestrating. As for our biggest cultural ally in the world, Europe it's the same and worse. We all watch our freedoms slip away. We are being stripped of our economic power, and our ability to express opinions that don't "comply" with the leftist orthodoxy. We are being threatened everywhere, in everything we do. How long can this go on? 

What to do now? Is there any hope? Marxist collectivism is like a debilitating rash that won't go away, it clearly is not an answer to anything. Can capitalism be saved? Not in its current crony-ized form, obviously. Then what? Has the power and money been so concentrated that a wholesale collapse and rebuild is the only answer? I truly hope not. Something needs to change, also obvious, but can anyone articulate what that change should be? Or how we can initiate it? If marxist nonsense is out and stacked-deck capitalism is unsustainable what is an actual third way?

I clearly don't have any simple answers. I'm simply not sophisticated enough to solve the modern dilemma. Getting tainted money out of politics is one obvious play, but that's easier said than done. Just paying elected officials more and financing campaigns with public money isn't going to work, it's been tried in various places and to varying degrees. It just doesn't address the second part of the equation, the craven lust for power. Considering that the people with the money have the power there's not much chance anything will change short of a societal collapse. The hard-left and their socialist dreams crave it. Perhaps someone will come along that can appeal to our warped situation with common sense solutions, someone who can stand against the entrenched money crowd while showing us in black and white the nefarious plans the socialists have plotted. I know it's asking for a miracle. Once in a while we deserve one. 

My Guardian Angels

by Craig Willms

Three times in my life I believe I've received the help of a guardian angel at a critical time. One of these was a life-or-death situation. I'd like to tell you about them. If after you read this, you can recall a similar situation that happened to you please share it with someone. It's important people know about these angels. We live at a time in history when we see and hear such evil things, perhaps we've even had evil perpetrated against us. We need to know there are angels, angels that appear in human form that roam the Earth and are sent to protect us.

Breakdown

It was a cold winter day and I was driving home on Interstate 35 when my car died. I was pulling a trailer full of firewood. I had spent all day with a chain saw cutting up a couple of cords of wood from some fallen trees on a friend's land. Needless to say, I was cold, worn out and bone tired. 

Fortunately, I could see a freeway exit in the distance and the glow of a gas station, I say fortunately because this was a time before cell phones. So, I got bundled up and started walking down the freeway in the dark toward the exit. In short order an old white van pulled over in front of me. As I walked up to the passenger side of the van I looked in the side windows. I could see what looked like a bunch of survivalist gear and there laying on a cot on an unrolled sleeping bag was a rifle in plain sight. Instantly my self-preservation radar was flashing red. 

The driver flung the passenger door open as I approached. He was a middle-aged white man with long hair and a beard, wearing a dirty one-piece snowsuit. He asked pleasantly "Do you need some help?"

Thinking fast I replied " No, that's all right I can see there's a gas station up the road where I can call someone. But thank you!" This guy looked scary and considering the gun, dangerous.

He scoffed "Seriously, it's cold out there, man, what's the problem with the car?" 

"It just died on me. No big deal" I said nonchalantly.

"Tell 'ya what, I got my chains we can hook it up and I can at least get you off the freeway."

"No, that's OK, you don't have to do that," I insisted.

"C'mon, it's no big deal, let me help you," he insisted.

Before I could say anything else he waved me in "C'mon, get in" he said. I reluctantly climbed in and closed the door and began planning my moves if this guy tried to pull something on me. I sat tight up against the door with my hand on the handle. Since we were now quite far from my car it wasn't viable to go in reverse down the shoulder of the freeway in the dark. That meant we'd have to go up to the exit and go north up the other side of the freeway for several miles to the next exit where we could turn around to get back to my car. It was probably 15 to 20 minutes, but it seemed like hours. Of course, my mind was racing. Would I just disappear, and my car found in the morning by the highway patrol? It was grueling. He just made some small talk, no mention of what he had been doing and I sure wasn't going to ask about the stuff in the back.

Finally, we reached my car, and he pulled over in front of my car and jumped out to retrieve his chains from the back. I thought - this is it - he's going to whack me with the chains and throw me in the back of the van. But no, he went about hooking my car up to his van. 

We drove the mile or so to the exit, and as we pulled into the gas station I started to relax. He was offering to drive me all the way home. I had to convince him I could get my buddy to drive up with his truck and pull me home.  I thanked him profusely and bid him farewell. He had none of it. He told me he'd wait until I got a hold of someone. There he was when I got back to my car after I had called my friend Rob. Again, I bid him farewell, and again he insisted on staying until my friend got there.  

So, after better than an hour of small talk Rob showed up. We hooked up my car and trailer to his Dodge Durango. Once again, I bid him adieu and many thanks, but he was adamant that he would follow us to make sure we got there. Good God, I couldn't get away from this guy, he still scared me after all that - now he was going to know where I lived!

I told Rob the whole story on the hour ride home and with Rob being a big imposing man he told me not to worry. When we finally got there, I walked over to his van to assure him we were good and thanked him again. He rolled down the window and just said "Hey man, Jesus loves you" and he drove away.

I stood there, gob smacked, thinking 'what just happened?'.

Out of Gas

One blisteringly hot day driving home from work, and I ran out of gas in rush hour traffic on Interstate 94 in St. Paul's Midway. Now considering I had a company vehicle with a company gas card I should've never ever run out of gas, to call me stupid would not be unkind, but... Anyway, I had driven hundreds of miles that day and I was hot and tired, I just wanted to get home - I was not paying attention, obviously. I was able to get the vehicle to the shoulder as it was, as mentioned, rush hour and nobody was going anywhere fast. Again, this was a time before cell phones, I could not just call someone for help. 

So, I began walking down the freeway shoulder toward the nearest overpass. Now keep in mind that Interstate freeways are always fenced in, and in this particular overpass was also fenced with a seven-foot chain-link. The freeway was more or less a gully with steep inclines up to the fence. Walking the ramp was out of the question in light of all the traffic. I was forced to climb the fence knowing that a slip or fall would send me rolling onto the freeway. This was the first hurdle I would face this day.

I made it over the fence and began walking back toward a main city street where I was bound to find a gas station. Eventually after what seemed like miles of walking, I found a typical gas station/convenience store. They would've been glad to sell me a gas can had they had any - they were sold out. They directed me to a gas station that was a more traditional type where they fixed cars. All in all, I ended up walking several miles in 90 plus degree heat with typical mid-summer humidity. When I finally reached the next station, they were unwilling to lend me a gas can at all. Eventually I was able to talk them into selling me a gas can for $18, something that cost maybe $6. Apparently so many people never brought back the gas cans they "borrowed" they were not in a friendly, helpful mood. 

Now that I had a gallon of gas I began walking back to my vehicle via the frontage road until I reached the spot. There I was on one side of the fence and my vehicle was on the other. How was I going to get over the fence with a gallon of gas. I could not simply climb the fence, which only five feet high, and drop the gas can over it to the ground as it would roll down the hill into traffic. I suppose I could have strung it through my belt and climbed that way, but I wasn't wearing a belt. Besides what were the chances that I would stumble when I reached the ground, which was pitched very steeply downhill, and burst into flames as I rolled onto the freeway. My only choice was to keep walking to the overpass ramp and take my chances.

By now I was completely miserable, sweating like a pig and getting sick from the fumes. Here I was getting ready to walk on a narrow shoulder of a freeway ramp in packed rush hour traffic where drivers are not expecting to encounter pedestrians. 

Just then an old junker of a car pulled up next to me. The old black woman behind the wheel yelled out at me "would you like a ride?" To say I was shocked was an understatement. To this day I don't what would have compelled an old woman to want to help a complete stranger, a sweaty twenty-something white guy holding a gas can. I got in gladly. She told she lived nearby and said I was lucky because she had always made a point not to drive during the rush hour, but that day she got in her car and found herself in explicably driving down the frontage road where she saw me. I must have looked pathetic. 

She ended up driving a few miles out of her way because of course we had to backtrack to get in the traffic jam so we could come up to my vehicle from behind. When we got to my vehicle, I thanked her profusely and offered her money, but she wouldn't have any of it, she was glad to help. Charolotte, I believe she said her name was Charolotte, just said "God bless you" as I closed the door. It was then the thought of guardian angel first crossed my mind.   

 

Death Bed

Many years later I'm now in my fifties, I found myself in an ICU room of a major hospital suffering heart failure. It was New Years Eve and the hospital was operating with a skeleton staff. The two or three previous days I had undergone at least three procedures hoping to insert stents in my heart to open severe blockages. They'd all failed. They said I was going to need open heart surgery, but there was a problem... 

They had put me on a blood thinner early on in an attempt to get blood flowing to my heart. It didn't help. The problem with that was I was now going to have to wait five days for the effects of the blood thinner to clear - or I could bleed out during surgery. I made it one day. I was rushed to the ICU where they pumped me full of the maximum amount of the nitroglycerin a human body could tolerate. Nitroglycerin dilates blood vessels and can save people from heart failure. For me the pain/pressure in my chest was increasing by the minute. The nitro was doing nothing.

I laid there alone in the bed, my chest aching and I contemplated my death. I hadn't even reached 60 years old, and I was dying. I kept thinking this would be the day that I die. So, bye bye Miss American Pie... This song repeating over and over in my head. Dying was one thing, I guess I could handle that, but I didn't like the suffering, and dying alone seemed so cruel.

Enter Katie, my overnight ICU nurse. Katie was a stunningly beautiful woman; you could say angelic. This is not hyperbole, she was gorgeous. But that wasn't what made her my angel. I had been in ICU for at least three shifts and while all the nurses were competent Katie was different, special. She knew I knew I was dying. She stayed with me and took care of me, encouraged me. She was confident that I wouldn't die, her confidence and calmness made me hang on. She never left my side. She wasn't condescending, she wasn't telling me what she thought I wanted to hear, she was true and straight. She asked me about God in a way no other person has ever done. I'll never forget that night or her. 

At about 11pm the attending cardiologist was able to get the team that was on call that night to come to the hospital to attempt the cath procedure that had failed three times before. There was nothing left to try, open heart surgery at that point was out of the question. This team was made up from staff from all the area hospitals that agreed to come in on the holiday for just such a case.

Needless to say they succeeded! I lived! I never saw nurse Katie again. I did write the hospital administration a letter commending her, but it was never acknowledged in any way. For all I know that's totally normal, I hope they showed Katie the letter, but I'll never know. 

I choke up to this day when I think about that night and my guardian angel. 

The Mental Fabric

 

The Mental Fabric

by Craig Willms

There is no there there. 

What does that even mean? We hear this, or some form of it all the time. It simply means there is nothing to it - whatever 'it' is. An empty suit so to speak. We like to think that we can put everything in its box, sorting out what is and what is not, what is real and what is fantasy. The key to the previous sentence is the word think. We think, yes, but what is that? Thinking is mental, it's immaterial, there's nothing to it. Now we've come full circle. 

Clearly, we exist in material form. It's also obvious we exist in thought, possessing an immaterial mental presence that is tied to our bodies. Fortunately, our lizard brain autonomically keeps our life-sustaining physical processes going, no thinking needed. Our bodies have inputs and outputs all of which can be measured, that is all except our mental output. Our thoughts are invisible, silent, odorless, tasteless and tactless. So, what are they? Spent energy? Where do our thoughts go if that's the case? It's a good question.

We all live a material life. We also live an inner life. As unlikely as it would seem we can be materially poor, our lives tough and miserable, while at the same time our inner lives are rich and fulfilling. It is possible, it does happen. Certainly, the opposite is true.

This dichotomy between our minds and bodies has been the source of speculation and disagreement since the beginning of time. The greatest minds to have ever lived have wrestled with it and yet we still have no definitive answers. Once materialism became the dominant tenet of existence the interest in the mind/body relationship has waxed and waned but has never been declared solved and dismissed. Recent years has seen a resurgence of interest in this so-called ultimate question. The advent of AI technology has ramped up the interest to new levels. Will one day we declare machines alive, conscious and capable of self reflection? Who can tell... 

It's fun to speculate, and as long as you do not commit the ultimate sin of bringing God into the discussion, it can be illuminating. 

We humans don't usually consider the universe as a whole when we contemplate our personal existence. The physical universe is so large, potentially endless, that we can't really wrap our minds around it. Yet we are part of the universe and to whatever degree we consider our place in it we need to understand that without us to ponder these questions the universe may not exist at all. That's a difficult concept to comprehend at any level. Interestingly enough we don't consider the endless potential of our mentation in the same way. Are the thoughts we have any less real than the star dust we are made of? I don't think so.

We accept the fabric of spacetime and our presence in it, but what about the mental fabric of the universe? Are we not present in our own minds? Since each of us is connected to all of existence at a physical level simply by being, why wouldn't we consider that we are all connected at a mental level? I contend we are. 

What if I tell you there is a part of your mind that is humanity's and not solely yours alone. Call it the impersonal will. Consider it an aspect of your mental being that does not care what you think, what you want, or care one wit about you or anyone else. It is that aspect of you that does things that are not necessarily in your best interest, the reason you occasionally say things like "I don't know why I did that, it's just not like me". It's the part of us that makes connections with others in an instant without our even thinking about it. The impersonal will is like a silent partner you don't even recognize. It's the part of us that joins the madness of crowds. Sports fans and rioters will understand this. It's the reason we can fall prey to the rhetoric of a wannabe dictator, the reason we can fall prey to seduction of all kinds. 

The universe, it has been said treats all of creation with pitiless indifference. It's true, it is a cruel existence that is essentially endless suffering and pain sprinkled with fleeting moments of joy. If we were simply instinctual biological creatures, we would not consider our own suffering let alone the suffering of another, we'd exist and then we'd die. But we do acknowledge suffering in ourselves and others. We rise above the impersonal will; we do the necessary to alleviate pain and suffering where we can. Therein is the difference we make by the power of our will, the personal will we impose on our beings. 

Where does the personal will come from? If it isn't material, if it isn't physical, does it really exist? The empathy we feel for ourselves, and others isn't something that can be quantified or measured scientifically, does that mean it isn't real? Or is it actually what makes us truly human? I pick the latter.

The impersonal will is something we don't control. We can only exert influence through thought and contemplation. We have to do this; we would be crushed by it if we let it run us. It is a force of nature; it is nature. It can be as merciless as a violent, raging firestorm. People who don't try to mitigate the impersonal will, being too meek or indifferent to the wake it creates, can be dangerous, even deadly. Others harness the impersonal will for their own benefit by bringing it to the surface and triggering it in others. When we say "so and so pushes my buttons" it's a recognition of this phenomena without real understanding. We've all been there. 

Childhood is all about learning to live with the impersonal will. Spend enough time with an infant through early childhood until the age of reason, and you'll actually see this battle of the wills develop. This skill isn't something we have innately, we learn it. 

We all know exceptional people and we know people that seem to fail at everything. They both face struggles, but what do they really, deep down struggle with? We say about the failure "he's his own worst enemy". We say about the successful guy "he's a force of nature, strong willed!" Just picture the image of little beings perched on each of your shoulders whispering in your ears... One says, "just do it, you know you want to" while the other says "it's dangerous and someone could get hurt". One of these imps is portrayed as the devil, uncaring of any consequence, and the other an angel, with everyone's best interest at heart. This concept illustrates the battle of the wills in simple terms, it is for all intents and purposes the epic battle between good and evil.

This dual nature we all possess sits at the basis of all our human stories. This dance, this battle we must all face, defines us. We don't know it intuitively; we rarely recognize its significance, yet it influences every decision we make. How do we know which of these natures is right, which one should we listen to? Humanity has been struggling with this since the beginning of time. It would seem we need some guidance, a teacher perhaps. 

Is it any wonder we conjured God? Of course not! But what is God really? Where is God? What if God is that part of our will that rejects the cold indifference of spacetime and brings compassion and empathy to the suffering. The man who says he doesn't believe in God doesn't realize that "God" is in him whenever he acts like a decent person or helps out when asked. God is right there, in him. We don't have to get hung up on religion to understand this. God is there when a new mother welcomes her baby, ready to sacrifice everything for it. God is there at the accident scene in the actions of the paramedic and then again at the hospital in the emergency room where doctors and nurses save lives. God is there in the woman who drops off groceries at the food shelf. God is there in the teenager who comforts his friend who has just lost her mother. God is at the lab in the scientist who is exploring a new treatment for disease. God is the hedge against the cold, cruel impersonal world. 

All these actions and millions more happen every day in every corner of the world. We may call it common decency, we may consider it simply doing what's right, but it is caring, compassion and empathy put into action. We are choosing to act Godly through the power of our will. We do this without conditions, without expectations of recompense. This is where God is. It doesn't have to be any harder than that. 

     

The Story

 The Story

by Craig Willms

 

The most compelling aspect of humanity through the ages is our love of stories and the very necessity of stories to define our existence. We appear to need stories to convey what is important, to educate and to know right from wrong. We individual humans will expire but our stories remain. The story is the thing.

Before there were books or movies, before the printed word there were spoken stories, the oral tradition. It was the way humans communicated ideas and concepts for the greater part of our existence. Our social hierarchies, our allies and enemies, our belief systems are to this day defined by our stories. Often, it's the only way to convey the social impact certain behaviors might have. The prefix we use, for example is most often followed by a story that exemplifies the lesson at hand. It's clearly one of the things that differentiates humans from other animals. Surely there are story tellers in the animal kingdom, but nothing that approaches the human propensity to tell and rely upon stories. 

Any parent can attest to the hunger little humans have for stories. From the time a child can process the language they want to hear stories, sometimes the same ones over and over. Anyone who has spent time reading to a child before bed knows how much children love to hear stories - read me another story! Yes, the child might be fighting sleep, or wishing to extend that close and personal one on one time with Mom or Dad, but the story is the thing that cements the joy they feel. The stories are helping to build the imagination of the young mind.

The phenomenon of story time only increases from there. Modern man thrives on stories, both the fictional and the true. The absolute truth of the story is less important than the lesson or idea being conveyed. Myths, legends and fables are powerful tools for passing cultural cohesion from one generation to the next. The Bible is a collection of stories that provide a narrative for believers. Each religion around the world uses stories to present its beliefs. These stories are powerful and motivating.  As well, we moderns love our movies, TV shows and novels. Little is as powerful as an emotional scene in which we have been drawn in by the story. In fact, we tell each other stories every day. We build our futures by the stories we tell ourselves and others. Almost every important concept of the human condition comes out of our story telling tradition. World wars and blood feuds all have started from the stories that were told and retold. Feuds lasting for decades, spanning multiple generations over actions taken by people long dead. Quite often the hatred and continuing violence far exceed the initial act. The stories get embellished by repeated telling's until the actual reason for the feud is long forgotten. 

All this leads to the realization that we are a story above all else. Everyone in and of themselves is but a story, some are easily forgotten, some become legend. Interesting stories are told and retold. You can liken your life to an actor embodied in a role, and what is an actor doing but acting out a story. Flesh and blood comes and goes, the story is all that remains. If we consider that all of matter has a shelf life and that each type of matter has its own, we come to a realization that nothing lasts forever. The stars, planets, mountains, rivers, rocks and trees all have a lifespan. Some last billions of years, some last thousands and some hundreds. We, humans, last about 80 years or so. Our bodies eventually transform into dust and then there is nothing. But is that true?

The story remains. 

What is Real?

 What is Real?

by Craig Willms

It seems like a strange question. Obviously when we open our eyes and look out at the world around us, we see reality, you know, the real world, right? Well maybe. Our reality in a physical sense is limited by what our five senses can convey to our conscious mind. Our bodies with our built-in senses are essentially measuring devices we use to survey the physical world. We know other animals have senses we don't possess or like our cats and dogs have heightened senses that work in ways we can't conceive. How the world looks to them would be completely alien to us. Clearly, we experience only a fragment of reality.

There are a thousand of theories and philosophies as to nature of reality, it's not a novel subject at all. Until the enlightenment era all theories and philosophies were equally valid. Through the pursuit of knowledge of how the physical world works some dangerous and exploitative notions were put down. Welcome to logic and reason. Materialism rose up and soon dominated the world. This was good in countless ways, obviously. So, what's the problem? 

Well, just this, materialism has no space for the metaphysical, for spiritualism. It was spiritual notions that provided the cohesion and belonging, the sense of purpose and the promise of salvation among other things that human societies had always been built around. The belief in a realm beyond the physical world where God(s) dwells is ancient, cross cultural and worldwide. As the materialist mindset marched on it pushed out any perceived need for this higher plane. I call it throwing the baby out with the bathwater syndrome. 

There are many things scientism can't explain and likely never will in a purely physical sense. Experience is most often cited. What is the scientific formula or mathematical equation for what it's like to taste chocolate, to feel the cool breeze of the ocean air? Things like love, courage, honesty, joy, intuition and integrity which are in fact mere words, but mean something so real they can't be denied. They cannot be reduced to a formula or equation. This suggests that there is something beyond the hard physical world. There is a mental realm where our consciousness and our inner life exist separate from the physical world. There seems to be a connectedness that stretches out from every living thing. Almost all people have had odd sensations, gut feelings, inexplicable connections and surreal occurrences that have shocked them or left them puzzled. The point is, it does not seem out of the realm of possibilities that a universal shared domain exists if you will. 

Therefore, you have a version of reality that allows for both the physical and the mental/spiritual. Call it dualism. This concept is simple enough to wrap the mind around as there seems to be evidence that both the physical world and a mental/spiritual world do exist. Dualism is mind and matter living in harmony. Mind, which is information and experience at its root, and matter, which is the domain where existence is physical, both seem quite real.

There's also an ancient philosophy that says all reality is beyond of the realm of the physical world, only the mind at large exists. It's called idealism. It is rooted in the idea that ultimate reality lies in a realm that transcends phenomena, that the essential nature of reality lies in consciousness. Only mental states are knowable. This type of belief has ancient roots across cultures, across time. It has been diluted by the success of materialism. It's now being re-examined as the fruits of strict materialism are found to be wanting. 

A strict materialist philosophy ultimately leads to nihilism and despair. This notion may be disputed by logic and reason types, particularly those of strong will and above average intelligence. Still, I believe the evidence of decay in the greater human spirit is overwhelming. The modern world breeds social disfunction and personal loneliness, and the materialist mindset is at the heart of it. As materialism gives us more and more material wealth and extended lifetimes among other things, human beings are less happy, less fulfilled, more stressed and suffer suicidal despair like never before. What changed? What hasn't? Brush away the debris of modernity, and underneath it all we'd see that at the same time the clarity of materialism was celebrated an ugly, tireless degradation of spirituality and faith had been unleashed from all corners. Thus, the throwing the baby out with the bathwater... 

All this begs the question: is reality what we 'see', touch and measure or is it what we think, feel and perceive mentally - or both? No one knows, hence this battle of ideas. The idealist believes that mind (consciousness) is all there is, and the materialist believes consciousness is merely an illusion. 

There are unanswerable questions, eternal questions, questions of meaning, questions we've all wrestled with in our own minds. To the materialist the mind is contained within the individual physical brain and extinguishes upon death. It's there one minute and gone the next. Where did it go? Does it just disappear? This denies the law of conservation of energy. Another unanswerable question. The mystery of death, I guess.

It is our perceived wants and needs, desires and fears, likes and dislikes that are not easily explained by the materialist simple black and white view of a purely physical reality. The materialist will not even consider the question of idealism's premise. Either consciousness is an illusion or physicalism/materialism is false, or both are true as dualism suggests. I myself do not have enough philosophical chops to make a determination, but I'm open to possibilities.

There's enough evidence that shows us that we are connected to each other and all of nature by something outside our physical selves. Perhaps it is God. Or something so base as to be indistinguishable from God. It has been at the heart of all religions and has been a source of our moral codes for millennia. It shouldn't be smugly dismissed by so-called experts and university students. So, to ask the question 'what is real' is to ask the ultimate question. 

Meaning:

 

Meaning: 

by Craig Willms

 

What is meaning? Why do we search for meaning? When do we know something has meaning? 

 Meaning, it's there in one of the eternal questions; what is the meaning of life? It's not an easy thing to answer, but answer it we must, every day.

Webster's dictionary has three definitions for meaning: 1) the thing one intends to convey especially by language, 2) something meant or intended, 3) significant quality. There, that clears it up nicely, don't you think? Clear as mud.

Meaning seems to guide us at the most basic level. The need for our lives to have meaning defies a simple explanation. Like breathing, we hardly take time to think about it in any 'meaningful' way, we ignore it most of the time. Most of us want our life, our work, our relationships to mean something, but it becomes abstract background noise day in and day out. It's still important even when we shove it into the back of our minds. When we perceive life as meaningless it can affect us in serious and profound ways. In the face of meaninglessness people can become depressed, despondent or dangerously cynical.

Curiously, over time what we believe is meaningful fades and becomes no longer meaningful, something else replaces it. We don't even ask why, it just happens. Does that make us shallow? Or is it just the way it's supposed to be? I suspect the need for meaning is a coping mechanism, a very necessary one.

By and large we don't know why we are here, it's a question that seems pointless to consider, we just are, and we need to carry on. We integrate into the world we find ourselves in, and we try to cope with whatever life throws at us. What would be the point to seeking meaning in the day-to-day machinations of living? Yet we do, and we need to, or the world would fall apart around us. Those who fail at this end up discarded in prisons or on the street and act as reminders to the rest of us why meaning is important.

Most people find an equilibrium in their environment, not really thinking in terms of meaning except those times when confronted by hard choices. The rest of the time we distract ourselves with our jobs, family obligations, busywork or mindless activities, just passing the time. Searching for meaning all the time would be exhausting.

Certain people take the question of meaning as central and devote themselves to that which is outside of themselves. They tend toward serving others and often busy themselves with introspection, questioning their own motives when they feel they are falling short. Others don't, and almost never entertain any deep philosophical thoughts like the meaning of meaning, considering it utterly pointless. They are practical people, getting on with business of living, untortured by their own apathy. The world needs both kinds. I think we all occupy both these positions in some ratio over the course of our lives. It's important to understand that not everything means something, living life should outweigh an endless search for meaning. 

If and when we settle into a contemplative state, we might ask ourselves what does it all mean? What should we be doing? For me knowing that my death is far, far closer than my birth I tend to dwell on these thoughts from time to time. As it goes for me, later in life, retired from my "day job" I have time now to ponder these sorts of things. It can be unsettling to say the least. I will think of my mother who is already gone and my wife and children who will be left behind when I'm gone, and I wonder what did it all mean? 

Life will go on without me, this is a universal truth. In this world I'll be just a fading memory in the minds of those left behind. How quickly we disappear. For the millions and billions of people who came before us, what of them? The memories of them and everyone they knew are gone. Were their lives meaningless? What about all the children who died young, or the ones never born. Were their lives also meaningless? It doesn't seem possible. The meaning of our lives, our purpose, our ultimate contribution seems to me to be shrouded in mystery, and death an absolute finality, but is it? Is there transcendence for the mind and soul once the body dies? We really won't know until it happens. Thanks Captain Obvious...

I can't find a way to accept that once the lights go out that's it, we just cease to exist in any form. Entire cultures and religions for millennia have been premised on the foundation of a continued existence beyond the grave. Mankind clings to it. 

I cling to it.