The sun, the moon, and the earth.
Art hugging truth, can be expressed through metaphores, — “You give me light, on the rainiest of days”. Truth is so intensely related to being proven and not being wrong, we’ve forgotten it’s beauty.
The sun is light. It shines on existance, and gives us growth and information, we can see thanks to it. The moon is 4.6 billion years old, the same age as the earth. Huge chunks of matter smashed into earth and formed the moon. In an artistic way of looking at things, the moon is that part of the Earth, that was violently separated from the oportunity of life, doomed to go round and round the Earth, a constant decaying part of the universe. We, on earth, live highly influenced unconsciously by the planets, the sun, and the moon, maybe in a contagious placebo way, maybe a physics way. When the sun does not shine enough, humans tend to stay in home more, act less chaoticly, turn dull and seek mental vices, depression, and there’s even links to suicide rates.
The moon wavers from new moon to full moon. It’s changes, are the moon reflecting from the sun, and us perceiving more or less sunlight in the darkness. Many say the full moon is life’s energy peak, when our spirit is most restless for acting out our will, represented frequently in stories as a context for intensity, and in a more obvious fashion, the whole character of the werewolf. From a more empiric perspective we have hair growth changes, dependant on the moon phase when cutting. Whatever consciousness is, it’s obviously a simbiosis with the sun, all life is.
When tackling these great questions, on consiousness, death, meaning and spirit, it would be smart to start by what we fundamentally know, the aspects of existing that are so obvious, we simply take for granted. I believe that with science and it’s dogmatic aproach of what constitutes truth, we have shuvelled our energy for knowledge into complex algorithmic measures, of limited value as a whole to the day to day mind. Extensive debates on the computational possibility of consciousness, integrating a simbiosis with A.I, the deterministic “to not be wrong” type of thinking. Meanwhile the narrative aspects of life, the actions we should undertake having the knowledge of our future death, the stories of value in morality, of spirit and coragous effort, are being layed to a side as entertainment, instead of a fundamental spiritual truth. Atheists destroy religion because there is not an experimental proof of god, or the dates on the geology were wrong. They are missing the point entirely. It’s a piece of art, and they see the materials.
Maybe all of this is wrong, but you still have to face your death, and the pressure of your moral decisions with precious time. Whatever that may be for you, that is the core of my interest as an individual, that is the center of what intrigues my attention, all information or experience that gives me value as to filling that tank of curiosity, is what matters to me. Having this in mind, I felt an uncomfortable pressure when stories gave me a stronger sense of truth, than debates on truth from a measurable reality. Maybe I’m more of a dreamer, maybe our society has shifted into such precise truths, that materials are more real, than our experience of them! I fundementally believe, that reality is our experience, and our power, is our will to decide.
Psychology has been harshly dogmatized by science, over 100 years of prodigious study and we’ve ended up splitting into more and more diverse theories of the mind, instead of a gradual uniting in understanding. Don’t get me wrong, science is extremely effective, and proof is necessary, because words on their own are free and everything. What I mean to say is, if our reality is a constant experience, the experience is of something. That something, is whatever arrives via our perception. If we experience sun, rain, wind, lovely people, angry people, sadness, hapiness… Isn’t our reality them or that, in that precise moment? Oh no! Obviously not, you’ll be thinking. I’m a seperate entity from everything, that’s what makes me, me. I’ve believed that always, but then looking behind, thousands of really smart people have dedicated their whole lives to try and specify what this “me” means, and failed with some success in technical terms. I don’t think we’ll ever get to understand our mind, mainly because it’s changing depending on its environment, and the environment is changing because that’s life. So with all this change that sabotages precise determinism, maybe we should stop using the inductive method to discover the truth in ourselves, and shift towards a more narrative-deductive style of truth. From the fundamental general aspects of reality, to the little aspect we call “me”. Instead of starting off with lab rat responses to a certain stimuli. I believe art should be closer to truth than to entertainment. I’m tired of the hipocritical average thought; “I, thanks to science, have truth in my hands, yet I have no idea as to what to do with my life.” Science is amazing. But we should stop using it as something grander than a tool. We, continue to be the problem.
