Experience is in the interplay between immediacy, perceptual in the broadest sense and context, which is conceptual in the broadest sense. Here almost all the weight is on the contextual side, and almost all of that is contingent on the body with its history and the times and the world, and is subject to immediate cancellation. If anything is left over, for self or soul, it is a context that you have given birth to within and outside of experience, something the side of a mustard seed amidst the torrents of a life.

Narrated experiences always acquire some of the quality of the past-continuous, as is natural since the words that evoke them can always be repeated. Lived experience on the other hand has a harsh one-off quality in which there is never quite enough to relive them as they are being lived. This is a form of 'unsatisfactoriness' made all the more salient as it is sometimes suspended, typically during sunsets and early evenings - a kind of existential lure, or poetry. Tere are times when eternity grazes time so gently that one almost fails to notice it.

The conferral of reality depends on testing or verification, and consensus, on validation by authority etc., in other words all the same things as science. If science mimics the reality function can it be as objective as it purports to be? Money, which exists on the active border between reality and imagination is somehow a determining factor for both of the, independently of its utility.

The reality function is a considerable and exhausting achievement. It is barely present in dreams and playfully distorted in the imagination and its products, but it has great internal consistency. It uses memory and logic, anticipation and verification, parsimony and other similar principles, but all of this occurs within appearance and belongs to it. Philosophy is usefully employed in weakening its premises, but only by attempting to employ it against itself, begging its own questions.

Experience is internally structured and so there should be an inverted hierarchy of increasingly simpler principles on which it is based, such as feeling thought and choice, or being and consciousness, but no such scheme ever holds up entirely under criticism. By the time they are thought of they are already transformed into ideal images of themselves, and of such images there is no end. The simplicity of experience must be all at once and beyond description.

Consciousness is the most subtle kind of object and does not 'contain' a subject. Every object in consciousness is an object for a subject that appears to be in consciousness. There is no other kind of subject, so consciousness is an object, the last object, with no subject at all.

Consciousness by itself is not up to much, it needs to lean on being, like a parasite or creeper twined around being. It thrives on distinctions, makes ad unmakes worlds. It depends on being and is all showing just a being is all hiding, or if you like, concealment.

The place of perfect harmony with the other is in an immemorial past and possibly a far distant future. The present is an exile separated by one infinity of transgressions, and not merely your own, and another of reparations, and hence the restlessness, the blind forces pulling you this way and that, the never-ending dreams and futile projects.

Death and the other are the two great impossibilities for consciousness against which it mobilises all its creative forces, but in different ways. In its original loneliness or boredom it invents the other in its image and imbues it with disassociated life. In a great developmental crux which nearly everyone passes through it externalises the other and all its alienated powers. If it fails to do so it goes mad. Insofar as this is the model ascribed to God or the Absolute of consciousness, and as God has no exterior, then God is mad - which is only another way of saying that how paltry everything you hold to as sanity and reasonableness in fact is.

The existence of the other is fundamentally incompatible with the natural metaphysics of consciousness which can only be at all as grounded in the absolute. This why the modes of being-with are of inexhaustible variety, why narratives are endless, why all psychology is fiction. The self must be surrendered so that others can be.

The inner world was of a different kind, deeper and more real perhaps than any concerns of mother and brother and meals and the joy of things in play, secret and incommunicable, and it was there that adventures beckoned. But inside you were not alone, there were presences everywhere, and of all one. And the the day that it came upon you that the one would surely be found somewhere in the world.

The self that is born out of opposition to its model is the romantic self. and it is marked by that agon with an antinomian streak, with a taint of devilry, but this is not the only mode of formation of a self. The formation without opposition, but by direct inheritance is perhaps more common, more ordinary, but this is masked by the fact that the model is more or less shaped in the romantic mode.

Possession of an inner self-reflexive forum or stage, of a monologue is something acquired from an other or others. It is perhaps a matter of imitation but more likely a result of influence, a direct effect on the will, and the resistance to this. It is born out of an interpersonal drama, and so exists as a fragile resolution, subject to bewildering comings and goings.

A philosophical answer to a philosophical question will set off more philosophical questions, that in a way is its intention, no matter how sincerely the original question is asked. On the other hand the question can simply dissolve with the questioner. Insight is involved in this operation, but it is not philosophical insight, although it is what that aims at without knowing it.

The idea that you are subject to limiting beliefs is itself a limiting belief, indeed the belief that you have beliefs, that you are such as might be so possessed. Or that there is such a recursive loop that somehow needs to be broken or undone.

Yes, you are unable to sincerely doubt your own existence, it would be a contradiction, or a hypocrisy to claim do so, but this only shows the inbuilt limitation of the vehicle, of thought, or imagination, or of any such activity based in the sense of being, its lack of the power of negation. Who or what can you call upon to gift you with the knowing before yourself?

The infant's world is profoundly animistic, every object has a personality and calls upon the child for care and protection. He is not aware of being cared for only of the need to extend care to others, smaller and more helpless than himself.

Duality is not mind and mater or subject and object or such things, all of which can be defined from a single point of view but self and other (self). Even non-dual awareness has its limits, beyond which there can only be an other. Hence contention van never be eliminated.

Seen from one direction there is choice, free choice in every moment, while seen from the other direction there is no choice, only an unfolding of the timeless. This is the opposite of the Kantian, choice in the phenomenal, no choice in the noumenal, if the phenomenal/noumenal distinction were an accurate one which it is not. The two 'perspectives' never meet, and in fact 'phenomenal' choice is one of the essential components of what unfolds out of timelessness.

The tree to the node looks like the Other, and also the other. There are many different ways that this can appear as a metaphysics or map of reality, in terms of the realities accessed by feeling, thought and will. There is no distinct point of view from the tree to the node, but in so far as such can be interpreted, it can only be one way, nominally non-duality.

It seems as if the the one awareness becomes split along is choice tree into ever finer distinct and disassociated branches, it seems that way only as if looking back from the terminal nodes and in relation to their reality. This is a metaphysical error, it makes the many things real in a world of dust like particles. The paradox f awareness is that it is never split, never disassociated and that there is so such individuated perspective.

In a concept like the noosphere there is already implied the topology of a sphere, a sort of cortical shell of massive interconnections surrounding the earth, that spinning solid sphere-like object suspended in space, and oneself then as a sort of neuron within that recursive structure, somehow containing and contained by the whole. Alternatively one might think of it as a tree, with each individual as a bud or terminal node, facing out into a free emptiness but connected to the whole only backwards, the synthetic plane being deep in the trunk, almost inaccessibly upstream and extending even further and dependent on a complex of roots hidden deep in darkness, in a mysterious mirror of what appears.

The sum of the subjective worlds of all living humans might be called the human spirt. Does it have an unseen unity, or is it merely an imaginary construct? One has a vague sense of its shape, rather its topology, and there is a certain striving to pull it into greater clarity, even as the noosphere seems to explode in divergence. The physical world form a scaffolding, a skeleton which bounds this divergence and suggests pathways of influence. Is it evolving? Is that common thought that haunts it?

The consciousness which projects a world and the enjoyer of that world is withdrawn each night in deep sleep, unknowing, without object or subject, desire or fear, without questions, sufficient to itself.

Consciousness as you know it, or as you conceive it, may or may not have an object but must have a substrate, something on which its natural confidence in its own continuity is based. In the first instance this is the body, and going further it might be the soul or the self, or God, something unknowable on which it rests, something of a different nature, say pure self-sufficient being. If consciousness were a computation it would be the 'computer' actually running that computation. The computation itself is a piece of abstract mathematics, existing only for consciousness without distinction from any other such computation, lacking the 'fire' which instantiates it. 'Consciousness only' teachings lack this element, it is only tacitly assumed. What could a consciousness e that was its own substrate? Is the notion coherent? All thought breaks off at this point.