cantdog
Waybac machine
- Joined
- Apr 24, 2004
- Posts
- 10,791
Well, I had a long one to lay on people
Quite all right, Perdita; that was half a post, really. When I have a long one, I am usually fearful it won't be read. But I wanted to make this post anyway. I broke it up into two. I think two. We'll see.
My point about the self in my trance states, if I can call them that, is that I am no longer thinking about it, not preparing a mental construct of the self without predicates, but living for the moment in it, without any other thing.
From the outside that point of view could be empty and the same as anyone's, but I felt no diminution as a disembodied point of view. I was still myself, distinctly, although I suppose I have to infer that I still had my history; I wasn't thinking about my past. I felt as whole as I ever do. So I have to agree with English Lady that the personality is intrinsic to it.
I was in my usual place, behind my eyes, but very alert, buoyed up. I knew I was not alone. Other mystics sense a presence and even state that they sense God or an echo of God, but I can't speak to that problem.
It's the sensation you get when something unusual, a sound, has pulled you out of your book or your writing and caused you to look around to see what it is that made it, even if you don't remember the sound.
In the way you turn your head, listening, to place the sound if it comes again, I was listening, too. I felt close to something, and I feel that suspended closeness to something (from no direction) every time. Very exposed but not uncomfortable about it. Quite the opposite. The closeness is to something good, or at least I seem to feel it would be better to be closer.
But I have to do all my thinking about it afterward. When the trance ceases, it's as if the time was lost. Not gone, exactly, but I have to remember it afterward.
Still, that's not the point here, because what I felt close to couldn't very well be myself.
I bring it up because when I do Joe's thought experiment, I am left with a flavorless abstraction, just the role of the subject of some unknown sentence. Whereas I can say from this rather unusual form of experience that I still possess my personality, without my pain, my fears, my body, or even my reason or the sense of time, when I am just my self.
On the other hand, I don't think this is the same conversation as the one with the Japanese director working with Western theater. But since we're having both conversations simultaneously, there it is.
cantdog
perdita said:Cant, you know I take your mind seriously, so don't think me being glib. The way you explained your mystical experience struck me as common. I cannot see the difference between your Observor during that time, and the one that is always there (for you or anyone). I don't quite get why you've brought mysticism into this.
Pear
Quite all right, Perdita; that was half a post, really. When I have a long one, I am usually fearful it won't be read. But I wanted to make this post anyway. I broke it up into two. I think two. We'll see.
My point about the self in my trance states, if I can call them that, is that I am no longer thinking about it, not preparing a mental construct of the self without predicates, but living for the moment in it, without any other thing.
From the outside that point of view could be empty and the same as anyone's, but I felt no diminution as a disembodied point of view. I was still myself, distinctly, although I suppose I have to infer that I still had my history; I wasn't thinking about my past. I felt as whole as I ever do. So I have to agree with English Lady that the personality is intrinsic to it.
I was in my usual place, behind my eyes, but very alert, buoyed up. I knew I was not alone. Other mystics sense a presence and even state that they sense God or an echo of God, but I can't speak to that problem.
It's the sensation you get when something unusual, a sound, has pulled you out of your book or your writing and caused you to look around to see what it is that made it, even if you don't remember the sound.
In the way you turn your head, listening, to place the sound if it comes again, I was listening, too. I felt close to something, and I feel that suspended closeness to something (from no direction) every time. Very exposed but not uncomfortable about it. Quite the opposite. The closeness is to something good, or at least I seem to feel it would be better to be closer.
But I have to do all my thinking about it afterward. When the trance ceases, it's as if the time was lost. Not gone, exactly, but I have to remember it afterward.
Still, that's not the point here, because what I felt close to couldn't very well be myself.
I bring it up because when I do Joe's thought experiment, I am left with a flavorless abstraction, just the role of the subject of some unknown sentence. Whereas I can say from this rather unusual form of experience that I still possess my personality, without my pain, my fears, my body, or even my reason or the sense of time, when I am just my self.
On the other hand, I don't think this is the same conversation as the one with the Japanese director working with Western theater. But since we're having both conversations simultaneously, there it is.
cantdog