In Perfect Harmony

How to trust your brain.

Turns out the way, the truth, and the life, is really the half way, the half truth, and a half a life—and it meddles with nature, a serious setback.

Holding to faith as the pinnacle of religious virtue, it has created a great famine of original thought and stunted the collective growth of the species. But we were told it was so much more than it is, which is fine if you never examine any other ways of thinking, or being.

Even atheism with its functional, unlimited connection and hope for humanity—to grant every inhabitant of the planet equal asylum, surpasses religious morality with ethical behavior—simply a more natural, organic development based on fairness.

Religions in general have failed to accept nature as boss. But in the end, after all the information-gathering research, decisions are made by hunches, snap judgments from somewhere in the consciousness, and often against your own judgment. Hunches that have billions of people raising families and living in homes and going on holiday. To the pious skeptic regarding the natural man, isn’t this a testament to the effectiveness of nature and the brain? The more we try to fix the world and shoehorn religious ideals into the public forum, the more we have to look around and say, wow! everyone seems to be getting along just fine, with or without my belief. Nature is best left alone to do its thing. Be happy with that and leave it be—it’s a lot smarter than you think.

It brings in to play innate and spontaneous intelligence by using it without forcing it. It is fundamental to both the Taoist and Confucian thought, that the natural man is to be trusted, and from their standpoint it appears that the western mistrust of human nature is a kind of schizophrenia”—Alan Watts

This point of view is that the brain is a fundamental organism of nature and is to be trusted without coercion, which is evidenced by the success of humanity—in spite of the various commandments and synthetic religious dogmas. Even the Native American traditions exemplified this process.

I am the walrus, 2020

Hard vs Soft Atheism

What I am seems so fleeting and intangible, but what I was—is fixed and final.

I am more closely identified with what no longer exists, than with what actually is. This overwhelming feeling that I am not a body, but have a body, is a curious look in the mirror. So who am I—and who are you? Just a skin encapsulated accident of evolution, or is there more to it?

When I became a non-believer, I was certain there was nothing beyond this physical experience—nothing but neurons, senses, hormones, and misinterpreted persuasions and perceptions. What it really was though, was a clean slate to view the world without the bias of belief. I really don’t care which way it is, so I ponder existence, consciousness, and try to find my own answers.

Now I am at a crossroad with nowhere to go, yet I press on daily collecting thoughts on a path of least contradiction. That the physical world too, cannot be explained without using the same abstractions of speech and metaphors, really leads me to wonder if there is any difference in stuff at all. And no one has yet put their finger on what the physical world actually is, generally meeting the requirements of spirit.

In the west we have a limited way with words that do not adequately describe the philosophies of half the world. Bonded by the Hebrew way of a monarchial boss, it is an imagery we can’t escape even when we know it’s crap.

The idea of the absolute god with all authority is a major, cultural catastrophe that set a course of dismissing other lines of thought, rebuttals ready before the sentence is even finished. But there are better ways of being, and we find when we look elsewhere it’s not even special—it never was. Just the only table setting.

One issue I have with hard atheism is it’s own automatic rebuttal feature. Sure, it’s easy to dismiss Christianity, but does that mean there is nothing at all?

With all the hairsplitting of physical and metaphysical jargon, it appears everything is god. We are all tits on the same sow—Alan Watts, and god doesn’t know it’s god anymore than you can identify your own source of thought. You’re it

Creation Theory—A Destructive Force

How Hebrew creation philosophy is destructive to the human longevity—self fulfilled prophecy

Is there a better way to experience nature rather work against it, or do you prefer the Hebrew creation influence to confront it and lord over it?

Seeing the earth as a construct, an artificial scape to house the finite man that resides in the body, makes mankind a foreigner in a temporary setting, viewing nature as outside of himself.

The ecologist describes every organism and its relationship to the ecosystem. That western man views himself outside of nature has infected these thoughts that now threaten the world.

Underneath the superficial self—that one that pays attention to this and that, counts the rules and feels apart from nature, viewing life as a struggling visitor on a strange planet (trying your best to get out of here in one piece) there is another self, more really us, than I, and the more you become aware of that other self, the more you realize that you are inseparably connected with all that there is. Would that make you a better, more kind and reasonable person, or a worse, more destructive person? Knowing you are not just the ego confined to your skin, but that you are connected to your external environment as a total function of the ecosystem? I would think it would make you more responsible, more kind, and more aware of the needs of others, and intuitively careful with the earth and its resources.

The alternative to Jesus as lord and us as fallen sinners, isn’t that there’s nothing—to the contrary, it’s everything. It’s how many of our ancestors lived for millennia and left very little traces on the world. This fallen world idea (nothing created lasts forever) has an inevitable death sentence to it. And seeing things more deeply connected (which we are) could certainly improve our chances of surviving on this rock.

It is the way of the Tao—to roll with it, not against it. Nurturing it like an aging mother, not in the Judeo-Christian theme as natures lord and master.