Kyra's neurolinguistic question

Which comes first is the wrong question. What if mind and language evolve simultaneously?

What if what we call ‘mind’ is immaterial – merely some property that emerges from the organic brain – from divided reality: matter and energy? Clearly our minds have no living presence in space and time without our bodies and specifically our brains, but what if they are an imaginary reality - like the square root of negative one is an imaginary number?

What if my mind does not exist in the way than the material universe exists? What if my words don’t exist except in my relationship to some other mind(s) – sometimes imagined? There might be a difference between the nonsensical and the immaterial, perhaps. But forget about the religious notions of God.

The question is this: What am I? If I am a ‘who,’ (let us speculate: a mind) what do I mean when express myself in words? If there is a beginning to consciousness, I don’t think that the beginning is actually the ‘word’ (language) – I think that perhaps consciousness emerges out of the universe itself from imagination. I have only an intuition of what imagination is, not a definition, but I am almost sure that the explanation is not supernatural (religious) nor is it primarily natural (scientific). I wonder if consciousness emerges from some immaterial imagination. Maybe consciousness made itself up.

I’m not making this stuff up. Wait a second… Who am I? And except for a whole lot of stuff that is not me, I’ve been making everything up along with borrowing thoughts from minds who came along before I was born. From what and when did imagination spring?

Maybe it was shrooms.  Maybe it was extraordinary sex. Maybe it was just looking night after night at the moon. What if it was a complete and random accident?

Damn, I just blew my mind again. Anybody got a match or jumper cables?

If you decide to try to answer these thoughts, Kyra, use as many words for yourself as you need to. Of course, I would listen to whatever ideas and questions you have, but I only want to read one haiku. And if you don’t have time for any of this, I completely understand. Almost everything – just a walk in the park under the moon with someone you care about, for example – is more important than answering these kinds of questions. Though still my own mind wonders.

Here’s one haiku of my own:

Under the cold moon

derelict rock and dead seas,

why, there, do we kiss?

The brain evolves in response to the environment. Free will and awareness are emergent properties. These are ideas. An egg crème and bacon and you are as real as it gets. Nothing really new here – except I care.