Let's give this thought experiment a try together: let's stand still and try focusing our attention to all our surroundings simultaneously. Do not focus on your table, your plant, your poster on your wall specifically, but on all of them together. I know it's nearly impossible to achieve lantern consciousness voluntarily because the impression of each one of these objects is already imprinted in our circuits, which impedes them from becoming new and interesting. It might help to control our breathing first: let's take some deep, intentional breaths and try again. Now let's try looking at our surroundings at a different light - like we've never seen them before. We return our brain to the infant state, where everything around us was new and exciting. Everything around us set in motion a circle of questions, answers, more questions, and then finally awe and mystery. When we slowly feel ourselves drifting towards that stage of looking at things like they're new and exciting, let's start writing down everything that pops in our brain. Here's some of mine:
-Why does my plant grow? How long does it need to spread its roots in the soil and what pattern does it follow? I notice a thick, strong stem that gives birth to a bunch of smaller, weaker ones, that give birth to more smaller stems, finally ending into leaflets. I imagine the roots following a similar pattern inside the soil. It reminds me of the circle of Willis, which is the tree of arteries feeding the brain. You have the main arteries giving birth to smaller ones, finally ending in the tinies capillaries in the peripheral brain tissue. Is this pattern of the biggest and strongest giving birth to intermediate, small (and all sizes in between) and finally smallest, universal?
-I'm suddenly fascinated by the concept of my room. I realize my city is a collection of spaces contained between 4 walls, that separate and reunite people. I wonder what it would be like, if we all deserted walls and lived out in the open. But then I realize my room is a cell, that is part of my neighborhood (cell conglomerate), that is part of my city (tissue), that is part of my country (organ), that is part of my continent (organ system), that is part of the world (body), that is part of our solar system (group of people), that is part of...is this a pattern that repeats itself? Are divisions crucial to the creation of life?
My skin is just a cover, isolating my insides from the outside. Simultaneously, my insides (skin included) are continuously interacting with, engaging with, profiting from, contributing to the outside. Does this temporal and spatial isolation that the skin creates create a false idea of separation in my head? Imagine this: I see my body as a flow of interactions, as a portion of the whole. I see your body as an opportunity for interaction, as a receiver to my flow. I see the outside as a communal ego, thus deserting the idea that I am me and you are you and my desk is furniture.
all the sounds, the lights and the impressions are intentionally set to this time and place for me to experience. I'm living in a meticulously prepared grand plan which is slowly enfolding itself in front of my eyes.