“Let’s suppose that there really is a ghost in the machine—a little man who “looks out” through our eyes, and “listens in” through our ears. Or if you prefer, a soul”
The notion of whether or not the “little man” inside has a consciousness, and then the possibility of that “little man” having another “little man” inside his head, and so on… Reminds me of a sequence in mathematics. A sequence is an infinite list of numbers, listed in order, and it just keeps going. It can converge or diverge, but it has to go somewhere by definition. This sequence of consciences could converge somewhere in the depths of one’s soul, but that place seems like it would be somewhere we cannot comprehend or prove things about. If this sequence diverges, I also would not know what it would look like, maybe that looks like these “little men” being in other beings and it could be the “thing” that connects us all. And if this little man inside one’s head is a soul-less being, this whole construction has no meaning.
But why wouldn’t it? We as humans only seem to use a small amount of our brain power to complete our daily tasks, so what is the rest of it full of? We aren’t just empty, but we know that out of a place of not-knowing. A not-knowing what life inside these bodies is not like. What the not-space consists of…
I just can’t picture what it would be like to be empty—to picture that would be similar to the thought of what it feels like to be dead. The trying to feel what is not, brings me to a wall that I cannot climb over. To conjecture, but not to be able to prove…
It really reminds me though that my body really is just a physical vehicle that drives me around this world. Who is this “me” that I refer to? And if I can say that without referring to my physical body, the “I” must be part of that “little man” inside, right? Is this sequence of “little men” just converging to “me”? Like I said, if it converges, I know not what to.
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