Consciousness everywhere

I'm sipping my morning coffee in the kitchen, the rising sun glinting though gaps in the thick green curtain that is the forest next door, when a long-legged spider makes a dash across the table.

As I watch it, the first thought that comes to my mind is a quote from Alan Watts; "Every living being feels that they're in the middle of the world"; I sense the spider's sense of consciousness. It is clearly troubled by me. Reaching the edge of the table, the spider abseils down to the floor and makes a break for the fridge, rushes to safety underneath it (at least until Saturday morning when I vacuum-clean the kitchen floor). 

[This particular spider, Phalangium opilio, harvestman or daddy longlegs (kosarz pospolity) is one of several in the house; they perform a useful function in dealing with insect pests (such as fruit flies) which they catch in their webs and eat. I tolerate them and when cleaning, I will strive to deport them outside rather than suck them up into the vacuum cleaner.]

Since childhood I have had that sense that insects – as well as larger animals – are conscious. Now, here we must distinguish between intelligence and consciousness. A spider, like every creature great and small, is driven by the survival instinct, and finding itself in a situation of danger (in the immediate presence of a living creature a million times more massive), it works out the optimal route to safety. That's intelligence at work. Attention and instinct. But consciousness, that awareness of being, is something else; in a world in which science claims to have all the answers* an understanding of consciousness remains a great unknown. Or even, the great unknowable.

Whether it's those eye-to-eye contact moments with a cat or a dog, or even that shared sense of presence between a human and a spider, there are those flashes of recognition that suggest that we are not alone in seeing the universe with ourselves in its very epicentre, we are not alone in that. 

I recall walking along the beach at Międzyzdroje on a wet and overcast summer's day, watching the seagulls. Momentarily a gap in the clouds appeared, and brilliant sunshine swept the scene, turning a dull seascape into one that sparkled joyously. The gulls' behaviour changed. At once, they became animated, filled with an uplifting energy. The clouds rolled over, extinguishing the sun's rays. That moment had passed, but I had recognised it. The gulls had recognised it. I had become aware of their joy.

Today, 21 August is (I decided last year) International Awareness Awareness Day, when we should be aware that we are aware, we should be conscious of being conscious, if only just for one brief moment.

* All the answers except for what are dark energy and dark matter, why is the universe fine-tuned for life, what happened before Big Bang, and how to reconcile Einsteinian relativity with quantum mechanics. Etc.

This time last year:
International Awareness Awareness Day

This time four years ago:
Reflections on late-August

This time six years ago:
Conscious of a waning summer

This time ten years ago:
Plans for modernising the Warsaw-Radom railway line

This time 11 years ago:
World's largest ship calls in at Gdańsk

This time 13 years ago:
Raymond's Treasure - a short story

This time 14 years ago:
Now an urban legend: Kebab factory under W-wa Centralna

This time 15 years ago:
It was twenty years ago today

This time 17 years ago:
By bike to Czachówek again