For those you are really into consciousness, here is a guided tour through 30 Philosophers: A New Look at Timeless Ideas.

From the end of the introduction:

These pages will nurture your understanding of perception and consciousness. This includes your intellect, the senses, and the nature of reality. Understanding these things will raise the wisdom of your inner voice, your inner coach—your philosopher guide, as Socrates would say.

In chapter 1, I mention consciousness only once in the following paragraph:

Science explores the natural things influencing your particles from the Big Bang to now. Philosophy explores the meaning and deeper significance of those particles and forces. While science tells us that our cells and the particles that make them up are in constant flux, philosophy delves into the meaning, ethics, and consciousness that seem to persist amid that flux. Philosophy provides the intellectual framework that helps us understand the broader implications of the 13.8-billion-year journey of our particles, asking not just what we are, but why we are, and what we should do about it.

Next mention is chapter 6 as part of Buddhist emptiness:

Next, “Non-self” says what we consider our “self” does not exist. What we perceive as an unchanging “self” or “soul,” is actually a collection of ever-changing physical and mental components, such as form, sensations, perceptions, mental formations, and consciousness. There is no enduring “I,” existing independently of these aggregates.

Then again when talking about Dualism and Nondualism:

These schemas are used in many frameworks across various disciplines, including philosophy, science, and psychology to explore topics such as consciousness, the self, and reality, as well as the basis of personal identity and interconnectedness. As mentioned in Chapter 3 on Gargi, the concepts of Nondualism and Dualism are tools used by philosophers to discuss the nature and relationships of such things as the mind, body, and universe.

Then in chapter 7, as part of flux:

I’ll repeat a line from Chapter 1 that feels very relevant right now: “While science tells us that our cells and the particles that make them up, are in constant flux, philosophy delves into the meaning, ethics, and consciousness that seem to persist amid that flux.”

Later in chapter 7, I equate consciousness to overall cognitive ability:

Your “personal” language, religion, and philosophy shape how you interpret the information you receive. These various aspects of your worldview, intricately intertwined, form the unique blueprint of your understanding. Your sensory perception is the initial interface with reality, acting as the raw data collector. Then your innate and learned processing mechanisms, your consciousness, sift through this sensory data, interpreting and assigning meanings based on your pre-existing knowledge and belief systems. This two-step dance of perception and processing not only creates your personal reality but also continually reshapes your worldview.

Your inner voice also plays a key role. It serves as a personal narrator, interpreting the sensory data captured by your consciousness. Guided by your beliefs, experiences, and values, it forms a continuous feedback loop. As it interprets and makes sense of the world, it simultaneously shapes and is shaped by your perceptions. This internal dialogue is in essence the voice of your worldview, guiding your interactions both internally and externally.

A few chapters later, in chapter 11, consciousness is part of the Four-part Remedy:

The second of four parts is:

Don’t worry about death: They also teach that death is the end of consciousness and sensation, so it should not be feared. By accepting the finality of death, one can concentrate on enjoying life and pursuing meaningful pleasures.

Next, in chapter 13, Stoics get credit for impressions.

By the way, the idea that our consciousness is a series of “impressions” has roots in both ancient and modern thought. The Stoics, for instance, viewed impressions as the initial stage of perception, where the mind receives information about the external world, and they stressed the importance of not hastily assenting to these impressions without rational examination. This concept will be central to the “Idea of Ideas” discussed in Chapter 18. Then, in Chapter 27, we’ll explore how David Hume, born in 1711, advanced the notion that impressions are faint copies of reality and form the basis of our knowledge. Hume’s contribution solidified the modern, especially scientific, perspective that knowledge is built through observation.

Next, in chapter 14, I introduce Hindu cosmic consciousness.

As a renowned sage and philosopher, Badarayana had dedicated his life to understanding the mysteries of existence and the path to Moksha, or spiritual liberation. It was believed that through his deep understanding of the Vedas and his unwavering commitment to spiritual practice, he had achieved Moksha, thereby breaking free from the cycle of Samsara. Having attained this state of spiritual liberation, Badarayana’s spirit was thought to have merged with the cosmic consciousness, Brahman, a state of eternal bliss and freedom from the confines of the material world.

In the next Augustine chapter, 15, I explore consciousness as part of time.

First in the “Perception of Time as a Sense” section, I use it like this:

Time is commonly perceived as something external, an attribute of reality. Augustine brought an introspective approach asserting the “sense” of time is within us. In his “Confessions,” he suggests that time is an internal experience shaped by consciousness. This idea resonates astonishingly well with our modern understanding of chronoception, but to be clear, Einstein’s theories developed 16 centuries later put time as an integral part of the external reality, and chronoception is simply our “sense” of its passing.

Then in the next section on chronoception like this:

From a modern scientific viewpoint, Augustine got much right about the subjective nature of time. The passing of time isn’t simply about ticking clocks or turning calendar pages; it’s deeply rooted in our consciousness, shaped by our mental states and experiences.

In the next Al-Farabi chapter, 16, I define consciousness and cognition for the first time.

Up to this point I’ve used the terms consciousness and cognition in context, but let’s add a bit of precision. Consciousness is like being in the driver’s seat of the car of life, experiencing the ride.

Consciousness is the ability to experience using a combination of mental abilities, memory, and perception.

In this book, we discuss it when we discuss senses, perceptions, and how animals experience life. Cognition, on the other hand, is the car’s engine.

Cognition is the mind’s ability to think, including memory and learning.

In this book, we cover advanced cognition abilities when we discuss things like logic, problem solving, and heuristics.

To continue our painting analogy, a brush stroke of paint represents an impression in modern terminology. An impression is a raw sensory input or experience that leaves a mark on your consciousness, serving as the foundational unit of your knowledge. Another name for the “mark on your consciousness” is mental construct. A mental construct is a conceptual framework that originates from sensory impressions, gradually taking shape through your experiences, interpretations, and reflections.

From the moment of birth, a baby’s mind is akin to a blank canvas. With each passing day, every touch, sound, sight, and taste leaves a mark. These sensory impressions are the nascent strokes of a vast masterpiece that will become the individual’s understanding of the world. Over time, repeated interactions begin to form patterns. For instance, the consistent warmth of a mother’s embrace or the gentle lilt of her voice instills a sense of security and love in the child. This recurring comfort solidifies the association that “mommy is good.” Similarly, the first time a baby tastes candy, the sweetness floods their senses, and subsequent experiences reaffirm the idea that “candy is sweet.” Through a succession of such simple yet profound revelations, the child’s understanding of the world grows, layer by layer.

Later in the chapter, as part of introducing the Floating Man thought experiment, I use it to frame self-awareness:

Also known as the Flying Man, it offers an exploration of non-dualism and dualism. It explores if self-awareness and consciousness are inherent to the self. Some use this experiment as proof you have a soul, but that’s not necessarily what Avicenna intended. For those that use it that way, they usually have a predetermined conclusion that we do have souls. Either way, it allows you to delve into the complexities of consciousness and identity, as well as self and non-self. Its impact transcends traditional philosophical debates, rippling into the fields of cognitive science and artificial intelligence. What does it mean to be conscious? Are you yourself right now really conscious? How do you know? Can a computer become self-aware? Can we upload your consciousness to a computer?

Then later in the same section, I use it to frame identity like this:

This affirmation of self-existence, independent of sensory experience, forms the foundation of Avicenna’s understanding of consciousness and identity. Even when detached from all sensory input, he believed one’s “self” continues to exist. This position is rooted in Avicenna’s philosophical framework where the intellect and the soul are separate entities from the physical body. One interpretation of this thought experiment is that it demonstrates Avicenna’s thoughts on Dualism. The belief in the existence of both a physical world and a non-physical world.

A few more paragraphs later, I use it as part of describing the original:

Imagine that God created you instantaneously as a fully formed adult, suspended in the air, isolated from all sensory experiences, and unaware of your own body. You have no memories, no language, no concept of the physical world or others. You are essentially a “consciousness” devoid of any external experiences. In this situation, would you have any sense of your own existence? Would you be self-aware? Avicenna answers his own question unequivocally yes, you still have a sense of your “self.”

Notice I highlighted the term “consciousness.” Why? Because this is where the thought experiment becomes self-fulfilling. Stating that you are a “consciousness” in isolation in this way, is stating the assumption of the existence of a self or soul—it presupposes what it sets out to prove. This makes the experiment somewhat circular. But even with its limitations, it remains a useful exercise in exploring the nature of self and consciousness.

Then later as part of part 3, I use explore consciousness like this:

Part Three challenges you to consider the nature of identity. If you find yourself in a universe that is not what you thought it was, what does it mean for your self-perception, consciousness, and identity? This part asks you to ponder how the absence of a physical world influences your existence. It adds incremental layers of complexity—like the introduction of illusory memories and the severance from the external world—to explore whether the sense of “self” would naturally emerge or not.

In the realm of metaphysics, they ask you to question your deeply ingrained assumptions and beliefs about consciousness and reality. If your reality is not what you think it is, if it is not real, then how can you live your authentic life?

Delving deeper into the intricacies of the “Floating Man” thought experiment, for some the answer is that the nature of consciousness is fundamentally rooted in our thoughts. As Buddha profoundly said:

“We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world.”

Then, later in part 5, I use it to frame AI consciousness like this:

Imagine that technologists have found a way to copy all of your mind into a computer including your memories, neuro pathways, and emotional capabilities—your consciousness. An AI computer that has equivalent algorithms for all the same things your brain does. We’ve mastered the mapping of your neuroplasticity to computer algorithms. We can effectively make a copy of you in a computer, mirroring the brain’s neuroplasticity.

Finally, I discuss AI Consciousness right before the conclusion of the chapter:

AI Consciousness: Embracing the Digital Epoch

This thought experiment is about humans, but what about machines? Can a machine become sentient and self-aware? In the domain of artificial intelligence, Avicenna’s thought experiment ignites intriguing discussions.

As we emerge from the philosophical treatises of Al-Farabi and Avicenna and step into the era of digital revolution, the echoes of their ancient wisdom become increasingly discernible. The subject of consciousness, once solely a philosophical debate, is now front and center in discussions surrounding artificial intelligence. Avicenna’s Floating Man thought experiment, a probe into the nature of self-awareness and consciousness, provides a profound platform to contemplate the current and future state of AI consciousness. In 2017, Max Tegmark, a physicist and AI researcher, said:

“Consciousness is the way information feels when being processed[1].”

This quote encapsulates a modern understanding of consciousness. Today’s AI systems demonstrate abilities that were once considered exclusive to humans. They can learn, reason, and make decisions. We are grappling with what, if anything, consciousness means within the context of machines.

Current theories in cognitive science and AI propose a spectrum of consciousness, suggesting that AI systems might not need to possess it akin to humans but could achieve a variant of machine consciousness. This concept says consciousness, various mental states, are not determined by their functional role. That means, a machine can embody a form of consciousness, shaped by its capacity.

In the end, our quest to understand AI consciousness is a journey into ourselves. It mirrors the inquiries of our predecessors like Avicenna and Al-Farabi which hold relevance in our digital future.

In Chapter 17, Alhazen, I introduce the salience network.

The choices you make in the “now,” shape your future, which influences the selection and ranking of memories. If you focus on sad things, you will “color” your current impressions sad, and that not only affects you now, but in the future. That’s why “fake it, until you make it,” frequently works. It’s also why they say that if you want to form a new habit, do it daily for 30 days. This is also why Stoic principles, modern therapy, and other practices work too. You essentially massage the “now,” to affect the future.

In neuroscience this is called your “salience network.” It identifies what’s important among the myriad of impressions we experience, helping to bring various “live impressions” and “memories” into the “spotlight” of our consciousness. It decides using factors like emotional weight, urgency, familiarity, and social constructs. The “familiarity” factor is why we explored the “familiarity” cognitive bias in Chapter 14. The impact of “norms” factor is why we explored the concept of “normal” in Chapter 5 on Confucius, and why we’ve spent so much time understanding social constructs and your worldview. Later, in chapters 30 and 31, we’ll explore Nihilism and Existentialism which explore the idea of breaking down, “annihilating,” these “norms” and building your authentic self.

Then, later in the same chapter, I talk about the collective consciousness of society:

Phenomenalism says physical objects do not exist independently of our perception. Instead, they emerge from the conjunction of our senses, past experiences, and social constructs.

This far out view suggests that our collective understanding, our social constructs of objects—like the concept of a “tree”—exists only as part of our shared perception. It’s our perception and societal agreements that define and shape its existence in our collective consciousness. While Phenomenalism does not necessarily negate an objective reality, it does emphasize how our comprehension and interpretation of that reality dictate its perceived existence.

… When the fossil is recognized, it bursts into existence. Should the observer divert their gaze, the fossil vanishes from existence, awaiting the next observer. Upon being documented—perhaps photographed—and integrated into our collective knowledge, the fossil anchors itself in shared consciousness, persisting even when unobserved. In this view, humans dictate the tapestry of existence.

Still in the same chapter, later, as part of human senses, I place consciousness within your body:

Philosophers frequently talk about the mind-body split and the idea of a soul or self as the thing that is you. Our internal senses indicate that view might be too simple. They place you firmly within your body, reminding all of us that we are not merely cognitive entities, but also profoundly physical beings. Your internal senses form a fundamental part of your embodied consciousness, and your identity. They anchor your existence in the rich tapestry of sensory experiences.

Then, a bit later as part of interoception:

Interoception oversees our perceptions of hunger, thirst, temperature, pain, and the need for breath. Beyond these, interoception governs other profound aspects of our embodied consciousness. When we balance, for instance, we can sense whether we’re upright or inverted. This understanding doesn’t falter, even when external markers of up and down blur—like when we plunge beneath the surface of water while diving.

In chapter 18 on Abelard, as part of my Idea of Ideas, I use it to describe exploring ideas:

Life is about experiences. As you move through life, impressions accumulate. After a time, the impressions start melding with pre-existing knowledge, beliefs, and other impressions, gradually evolving into more refined and interconnected ideas.

Much like the fleeting impressions you experience, an idea fits within your stream of consciousness as one of the many mental constructs that you can choose to focus on. It’s an impression that has been elevated in significance or intricacy, one that you can easily recall from your preconscious or, with a bit of effort, from your deep subconscious. From there it might sink into the depths of your deep subconscious, or fade away, no longer part of you.

I next use it in chapter 20 on Bacon as where ideas emerge:

An idea is born as a thought – a speculative irrational idea that emerges into consciousness. This idea can be anything – a concept, a principle, or a solution to a problem. This is akin to the initial observation in the scientific method.

Next in chapter 22 on Descartes, I introduce the doubting consciousness with innate abilities:

Another way to describe the void is to use a newborn. From the “void” of a newborn, you can think about how he or she takes sensory impressions like sight and sound and builds up understanding. That starting point is perhaps the most accurate way to run this thought experiment. For variations, you can also pretend the newborn is blind and rerun it. For us though, let’s continue using Descartes starting point, which is a mature fundamentally doubting consciousness with Innate cognitive faculties.

Later in the same chapter, I use it to frame emerging consciousness versus a soul:

The debate over dualism has intriguing implications for modern discussions surrounding artificial intelligence and consciousness. If dualists are correct in believing that the mind and body can exist independently, the tantalizing possibility arises that we might one day be able to upload our minds, potentially achieving a form of digital immortality. As technology advances and our understanding of consciousness deepens, the longstanding debate on dualism could offer valuable insights into the evolving realms of artificial intelligence and synthetic forms of human consciousness.

The next use is in chapter 25 on Spinoza and the Material-Spiritual Framework:

As part of setting up spirituality, I use it as part of describing spirituality:

In the context of this framework, “Spirituality” takes on a specific metaphysical role. It is the “missing element” in belief systems. The elements that are not observable, not empirical. This includes the currently unknown and the unknowable as well as any non-physical, non-material aspects of reality that encompass elements like consciousness, soul, and other forms of non-tangible essence. What might traditionally be called “substance” in philosophy. The Material World is one substance and if you believe in souls and a universal soul, then that would be a second substance.

Later in the “Spirituality and Your Spirit” section, I use it as part of describing the known nonphysical aspects of your spirit:

Whether your “essence” is an empirical collection of things, an energy force, a soul, or some other substance, it’s the same as “spirit” in this book. This means, for scientific oriented people like me, your spirit is the known nonphysical parts of you such as your emotions, consciousness, and character. For the spiritual, but not religious, they add unknown things like your soul or some other type of energy or “substance.” For religious folks, they add a supernatural intelligent designer or controller.

Later in the “Science and Spirituality” section, I use it as part of describing natural spirituality:

The idea of “natural spirituality” suggests that the universe has inherent qualities fundamental to the fabric of the universe. Things that encourage the emergence and flourishing of life and consciousness. These qualities could offer a scientific basis for the study of natural spirituality. The study of things like the drive towards complexity, the capacity for self-awareness, the interconnectedness of all things, and so on. In this way, the study of the universe’s deepest laws could enrich our understanding of spirituality. It might even align the findings of science with the philosophical exploration of what it means to be a part of this vast, mysterious cosmos.

In the final Sartre chapter 31, it is now a touchstone.

I explore consciousness as a foundation for existentialism. Here is the first of that usage:

Sartre and Consciousness: “being”

At the heart of Sartre’s existentialism was the notion that humans are unique in their ability to possess consciousness, a feature that sets them apart. This consciousness, according to Sartre, is both a blessing and a burden, as it bestows upon individuals the freedom to create their own destinies, but also demands that they bear the weight of their choices and actions.

For Sartre, the power of human consciousness required a steadfast commitment to authenticity and self-examination. He urged his contemporaries and future generations to confront the existential challenges of life head on, embracing the responsibility. In doing so, he believed that individuals could transcend the limitations of their circumstances and achieve a sense of genuine self-actualization. A sentiment often paraphrased from his seminal book reflects his message:

“Freedom is what you do, with what’s been done to you[2].”

As part of Sartre’s commitment to existentialist principles, he explored human consciousness. It’s time to delve into a few modern ideas on consciousness, the last aspect of your personal worldview this book will explore.

Consciousness: Awake and Asleep

In previous chapters, to help tear down illusions about your worldview, we identified a few shared mistakes that have historically permeated human understanding. Starting with our own bodies, in Chapter 17 we revealed that, for millennia, most believed in the magical ability of human eyes to emit light. We also explored blood circulation from ancient times, as the four humors, all the way through its discovery in the 1600s. Chapter 21, with Galileo and Copernicus, showed that the long-held view of man at the center of the universe was fundamentally flawed. With Descartes in Chapter 22, we ventured into the process of dismantling your knowledge framework through doubt, allowing you to rebuild it using your own terms, even offering a modern rational version. Hume, in Chapter 27, further refined our understanding of your worldview by introducing it as a bundle of interconnected beliefs, insights, and perceptions, even incorporating the Buddhist concept of non-self into Western philosophy.

Also, up to this point, we built a solid foundation for your worldview. In Chapter 7, we set the foundation that your worldview is in constant flux, and comprised of your personal language, religion, and philosophy. By Chapter 14, we had added the dimension of cognitive biases, one of the most important was the concretism bias, which significantly affects your perception of reality. Alhazen, featured in Chapter 17, taught us that perceptions—including sensory experiences—vary from person to person, adding to the uniqueness of each individual’s worldview. This uniqueness is your identity, and your identity reciprocally influences your worldview. With Abelard in Chapter 18, we fine-tuned this concept by incorporating your personal knowledge framework, and taking a new look at ideas, sorting them into categories: empirically true, rationally true, or irrational.

Now, it is time to delve into consciousness one last time and add it as the final element to our modern understanding of your worldview. Simply defined,

Consciousness is a continuous, self-aware state of existence, an incessant ebb and flow of perceptions, ideas, and emotions.

Our next touchstone, consciousness, is interesting. You wake up from sleep, you open your eyes. Simultaneously, you hear your surroundings. For me, most days are a slow, smooth transition from sleeping to waking—unless an alarm is set, reenforcing the idea that our minds are still up even while asleep. One time, I distinctly remember waking up mid-air, falling in the dark silence until a loud “boom” jolted me completely awake. I was six years old, sleeping on the top bunk while my brother Brian slept on the bottom bunk, and I’d just fallen off. Consciousness is part of your worldview, and it has two basic states, awake and asleep, and transitioning can be voluntary or involuntary. Let’s explore it just enough to set up a basic understanding as a foundation for existentialism, and to complete our understanding of your worldview.

Consciousness isn’t a monolithic experience; it’s a complex spectrum of levels while awake, and what we call stages, while asleep.

Awake Levels

You are conscious; you know this as you are either reading or listening to these words. Your moment-to-moment awareness is a tapestry of thoughts, existing ideas, and potential thoughts. It’s an evolving dialogue between your conscious, subconscious, and unconscious mind, anchored by your inner voice. While awake, you exist at various levels. These levels range from daydreaming and general awareness to more concentrated forms like deep focus or meditation. Here, the term “levels” serves as a useful analogy, as if one could willingly climb higher or lower on the ladder of cognitive intensity. This consciousness lets you slip into different levels—like daydreaming or deep focus—often dictated by your inner voice.

While awake, these overlaying levels is what pioneering American psychologist William James referred to as the stream of consciousness. It is the continuous flow of thoughts, feelings, and perceptions that constitute our conscious experience. Far from being a linear narrative, this stream is a torrent of cognitive activity, ever-changing and always in motion.

Within this labyrinth of levels, and streams, resides our inner voice. It doesn’t merely narrate or critique; it synthesizes, categorizes, and challenges the ideas that float within our stream of consciousness. It serves as a narrator, a critic, and helps us navigate through life.

When reading, your inner voice takes an active role, serving as an internal auditory medium through which text is processed. This phenomenon, known as subvocalization, allows you to engage with the material world at various cognitive levels, whether it’s mere comprehension or more reflective pondering. You can read slower and deeper, if you wish, to engage and soak in the words, or you can read quickly, engaging still, sure, but not as deeply. That’s what some speed-reading techniques are about. They advocate minimizing subvocalization along with skipping some words to increase pace, particularly articles, conjunctions, and prepositions. It takes practice, and there’s a trade-off with comprehension and depth of engagement.

In contrast, while watching television or movies, the inner voice may recede into the background, relinquishing its usual running commentary. It can shift to a more passive role, allowing us to become more absorbed in the experience. In these instances, the inner voice is kind of watching with you, not entirely silent, but may be temporarily subdued, only to chime in during moments that provoke thought, trigger emotions, or demand interpretation. Just like when watching a show with someone else.

While the nature and tone of this inner voice varies from person to person and from one moment to another, its presence is a nearly universal aspect of human consciousness. To be clear, one of the purposes of philosophy books, like this one, is to give your mind more and better impressions for your inner coach, your philosopher guide, as Socrates would say.

Sleep Stages

Sleep is also part of your existence, helping to not only rejuvenate but also to process stress, convert short-term memories into long-term ones, organize them, and even process emotional experiences.

When you sleep, you embark on an existential voyage through varied states of consciousness, each offering insights into your existence, identity, and understanding of reality. On your way to REM sleep, you transition smoothly from the lighter N1 stage to the deeper N2 and then N3 stages. Along this progression, a range of brain activities occur, preparing the stage for the more intricate exploration. Interestingly, the dreaded night terrors occur during N3 sleep, which is the deep sleep stage right before REM sleep.

I go on but let me skip forward to the Bad Faith section. Here I use it as part of being-for-itself:

Being-for-itself refers to your consciousness, characterized by its freedom, ability to choose, and capacity for self-awareness. In simpler terms, it is akin to the concept that you not only exist, you are aware of your existence, which brings along the freedom of choice and the ability to define yourself.

On the other hand, being-in-itself pertains to inanimate objects, like rocks or chairs, that exist in a fixed state without the capacity for choice, change, or self-awareness.

The final mention of consciousness in the book is as part of reflecting on Sartre’s career:

Throughout his career, he employed his unique perspective on consciousness to explore themes of freedom, choice, and responsibility in works such as “No Exit,” “Nausea,” and “The Flies.”

For good measure, and just because, here is the ending of the book:

It’s time to end our journey. This book was a wild ride through humanity, spotlighting fourscore of touchstone ideas. A worthy “similar” book to my original intent a quarter century ago. There are many paths one can take through the minds of our great thinkers; I hope you enjoyed the path I chose. Let me conclude with the original ending for my book on existence.

Life is a journey full of mystery and wonder, unfolding in a vast universe. No matter what happens to your energy in the end, I hope you realize how special you are. The essence of you, the sentient you, gets to ride this roller coaster. Your existence is a breathtaking enigma, among the 400,000 stars of the Milky Way, on a tiny blue planet, you—self-aware and alive—have the rare privilege of experiencing this cosmic dance. Revel in it.

As you move forward, let the timeless tenets of Holistic Eudaimonia guide you. Be mindful of the Butterfly Effect, as the power of your actions is infinite. Your acts, no matter how small, both good and bad, will ripple, one cause-and-effect at a time, into the vastness of eternity—a tribute to your life’s journey. That is your true and only legacy. Choose to live a life that sends virtuous ripples into an unseen tomorrow, you will never witness. Navigate the marvels and mysteries of existence with kindness and integrity, be authentic, and may you always: “Enjoy the journey, with truth and honor, causing no harm.”

–The End–

[1]        Tegmark, 2017: Life 3.0: Being Human in the Age of Artificial Intelligence. Knopf. Page 301.

[2]        Sartre, “Being and Nothingness: An Essay…” translated by Hazel E. Barnes, 1943. Paraphrased concept.