I see my body as a vehicle for my consciousness. It moves me around, it contains and sustains my brain, which is where my consciousness resides.
Imagine sitting in a stationary car with full 'privacy glass' - blacked out all round, so people can't see who's in the driving seat. From the outside, all they can see is the car. They can see if it's new or old, sporty or sedate, baseline or top-of-the-range, standard or customised. They can't see the driver. They know nothing about the driver.
But once the car starts moving, they can make inferences from the behaviour of the driver. Are you a reckless speed freak, or a safe, considerate driver? Are you a boorish road-hog, intolerant of other road users? Or are you courteous and anticipatory? Can't tell while that car's stationary...
It's similar with the way people judge people.
Its instinct. Before the conscious brain has had time to make an assessment, the instinctive brain has made a fight-or-flight decision as to whether that person who's just come into view is a potential threat or potential prey. It is an authority figure, to whom deference should be shown, or a sucker who can be taken for a ride? In the crowded city, your primitive brain is doing this all the time. This initial instinctive judgment is made in a split second, based on appearance alone. Facial appearance, body size, clothing. And so it's easy to judge oneself by appearance.
Everyone has a self-image of themselves. As with health, this has its ups and its down. As one ages, it becomes more of a struggle to accept that reflection in the mirror as really 'you'. It often catches me unaware - I'm wandering around, lost in my own thoughts, when I catch sight of myself in the plate-glass window of a shop front. "That bald old bloke with the grey beard is me? When did that happen?" Lockdown has meant less of this, as there's not a plate-glass window to be seen in Jeziorki nor in Jakubowizna, plus I'm fully masked in winter and wear a woolly hat. I have become the Eyes Without A Face. A consciousness moving about the face of the earth. Observing, judging, calculating, unconsciously as well as consciously. Instinct and intellect - and above those, the subjective conscious experiences, the qualia, which give you (and only you) the true flavour of what it's like to be you.
Switching off images of your external appearance, staying away from mirrors, you become more yourself than how you are perceived by others. This is a blessing of solitude; you become unconcerned by their judgments; you can be yourself.
But if you really want to know who you are - look to your dreams.
"Dreams don't lie," writes Dr Mark Belchner in his book The Dream Frontier. "Our dreams are not concerned with disguise and censorship. They are our most honest communications, perhaps the only human communication in which we cannot lie. We can lie about our dreams, but not in our dreams."
When you dream, you get the raw truth about yourself from yourself. When I dream, I have no physical characteristics; I am neither big nor small, young nor old; I am ageless. That's the real me, as I am, not as I am seen externally. This is my conscious soul, detached; observing the world, pondering its meaning, its absurdities, its delights, its frustrations, its ever-changing demeanour.
Materialism sets a high store on external appearance; multi-billion dollar industries are based on it. (And yes, that includes the automotive industry; cars are the ultimate form of clothing.) Yet the primacy of the subjective conscious experience suggests that Truth lies elsewhere.
A balance needs to be struck; consideration for the fact that others instinctively judge external appearances should be balanced against a vain desire to show off. Understand your biology, then rise above it. Strip away the ego, and the mortal body - and you are left with the consciousness - which I believe to be immortal. It was, it is, it will be.
This time last year:
Find your own holy places
This time two years ago:
An introduction to quantum physics
This time three years ago:
Right and wrong in science and philosophy
Getting ul. Karczunkowska ready for Biedronka opening
This time eight years ago:
This time nine years ago:
A third of the way through Lent
This time ten years ago:
Balancing surfeit and shortage
This time 11 years ago:
Congruent consciousness
Intimations of spring
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