In the last couple of posts I neglected also to mention that Dana Zohar’s The Quantum Self, and her follow up book The Quantum Society, also point to the Daemon as emergent consciousness structure. I regret that I have only skimmed these books so I can’t really comment on them as yet, but only to point out the new efforts to revision mind and society in terms of the cosmos described by quantum physics. There isn’t as yet a “quantum psychology” (or a “quantum biology“) except what is being described as a “proto-science”.
In this post, though, I want to take a stab at it in connection with the meaning of “the Daemon” and time. I see that the December edition of Scientific American has a “special collector’s edition” devoted to time called “A Matter of Time: It begins, it ends, it’s real, it’s an illusion. It’s the ultimate paradox.” The title alone summarises our present confusion about time, particularly as being “the ultimate paradox”.
Last evening, around supper time, I went into my meditation. I went very, very deep. Deeper than I had ever gone before. When I came out of meditation I was quite disoriented. I simply wasn’t there. The physical world seemed drab and dreary. I had to re-construct myself like a jigsaw puzzle. It was tedious and fatiguing work, so I went to bed. I slept for almost 16 hours! As far as I recall, I have never in my life slept that long.
But what a trip! I’m not even going to try and narrate what strange, disturbing dreams I had during that time, because if you suspect I might be crazy now, you would certainly do so afterwards. I’m hoping that these dreams are just dreams, and not rehearsals or anticipations of things to come — the apocalyptic “global catastrophe” that Jean Gebser anticipates as co-incident with the “irruption” of the new consciousness structure — the integral consciousness. I’ve taken to calling that integral consciousness structure “the Daemon” after the historian William Irwin Thompson.
This posting comes about as a result of some stimulating back-and-forth banter between myself and crowdog in the comments section of the entry entitled “Night School“, regarding the dream I had of “The Man With the Five Qualities” as I’ve come to call it.
In the course of discussing the peculiar nature of this dream with crowdog, certain quite odd parallels and correspondences with “the real world” started to emerge, suggesting that “The Man with the Five Qualities” of my dream may well be real, the image of the emergent “future human”; the archetype of the integral consciousness.
Why do we assume that the entire spectrum of the soul’s moods have been tapped and mapped? I do not think that there will be an “end of history” for artists. In the future we will have to learn to handle moods that we never conceived of but which mankind’s present ego-structure can’t handle.
I seem to spend a great deal of time in “night school” grappling with strange, seemingly overpowering, moods. There aren’t any words to describe these moods. They are disorienting. The only analogy I can think of to describe it is the oft-noted one that the Eskimo has some 25 words for “snow” for our one in English. Consequently, we don’t notice, unlike the Inuit, that there are “species” of snow in great variety. Likewise, our ego-consciousness seems to have censored out vast expanses of other moods of the soul as inimical and even destructive to itself.
When the aforementioned William Irwin Thompson says that most of what he knows about the present shift from ego-consciousness to the “Daimon” he learned in “night school”, I understand exactly what he means. I suspect that most of what we know as human beings for our management of daily life we learn in “night school” — rehearsed in our dreaming. The reason most of my postings appear in the mornings is because they are the record of lessons learned in “night school” that I need to set down in print while they are fresh.
Lately, night school has been very trying to the point of seriously disturbing my sleeping and waking patterns. The learning challenges apparently set before me in night school now can only be described as Herculean, or perhaps Sisyphean. These “lessons” are in the manner of living koans or “gestalts” that are often frustratingly impenetrable. At the same time, another portion of my dreaming self seems to have quite demanding responsibilities and duties as a “teacher”, in the sense of being a kind of intercessionary.
Yesterday’s posting on “Roots and Radicals” and the issue of inquiry into the “root causes” of terrorism seems to have been timely, given this morning’s news of a hostage taking incident at a cafe in Sydney Australia and reports of anti-Muslim marches in Germany. Our times are nothing if not full to the brim with irony. So, maybe this is a good time to dive deeper into the meaning of the GWOT — the so-called “Global War on Terrorism” which also happens to be the globalisation of terrorism, too.
How does “universal terrorism” grab you? By that I mean, the total abandonment of all human standards by all parties involved in a total orgy of mutual brutalities where no place is safe for anyone. From “total war” to “universal terror”. But this is what the “clash of civilisations” doctrine ultimately results in. And that suits some devilish people just fine.
9/11 was, and remains, a watershed event in the fate of Late Modernity, not so much in terms of the event itself but in terms of our collective responses to it. In those terms, it was indeed “the day the universe changed” and the future stopped being what it used to be.
In the aftermath, we were presented with a clear and decisive choice in our responses: to “address root causes” or “the gloves come off”. The struggle between these two options for what our response should be was fierce precisely because it represented something final and decisive for the fate of Late Modernity. It was the way of law or the way of lawlessness; the way of reason and thoughtfulness or the way of violence and brutality. The propaganda war was ferocious.