Sleep

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Liv­ing day to day we some­times for­get the sig­nif­i­cance of our brain are with respect to the ideas that make up our worlds. In our brain are a con­sid­er­able num­ber of neu­rons with sig­nif­i­cantly more con­nec­tions. Odd as it may sound, there is noth­ing like the world in the brain, nor are there any clear ideas, just some gray and white mushy stuff. How your brain and my brain know a table is a table or an idea is an ideas is there­fore puzzling.

Of course as sci­ence has pro­gressed the ques­tions have been framed dif­fer­ently. The way in which the ques­tions have been framed has become and index for under­stand­ing how we relate to mean­ing in the world; under­stand­ing thought and the rela­tion­ships ideas have to each other is impor­tant if we want to under­stand how we relate to our cul­tural envi­ron­ment. Know­ing how our brains work will help us to frame our­selves in the con­cep­tual world of memes and archetypes.

A good place to start to think about our dreams. In our dreams our expe­ri­ences bear lit­tle resem­blance to the actual world. But when we dream we are as good as con­science. For all intents and pur­poses we see, move and exist in a world, albeit a dream world. The ques­tion is how? A lot of work has gone into try­ing to explain ‘how mat­ter becomes imag­i­na­tion’ (to bor­row a phrase from one of my favorite scientists).

To start to under­stand we must return to when we are awake; there is dis­tri­b­u­tion of activ­ity going on in our heads. Mem­o­ries encoded across regions of the brain are acti­vated, not just to explic­itly remem­ber some­thing, but to relate what we hear to the bank of infor­ma­tion already encoded in our brains. Those seman­tic net­works that become active rec­i­p­ro­cally influ­ence the way in which we encode the envi­ron­ment, we thus fur­ther per­ceive the world and our rela­tion to it in rela­tion to the meme­ories already banked up in our brains.

Prim­ing offers a rather good illus­tra­tion. If we are asked to study a list of words, and we are then given syl­la­bles and asked to com­plete them we are more likely to com­plete the syl­la­bles as the words that were in the list we stud­ied. On a seman­tic level, if we are ‘primed’ with a word like doc­tor, we would be more likely to think ‘nurse’ than say ‘tele­phone’, why, because they are seman­ti­cally related. Sim­i­larly, researchers have found that ‘prim­ing’ peo­ple with aggres­sively related stim­uli will get peo­ple to inter­pret oth­ers behav­ior dur­ing com­pet­i­tive games as more aggres­sive and will sim­i­larly trig­ger a more aggres­sive response than one would oth­er­wise have seen.

One other impor­tant things about sleep­ing is that when we sleep our minds have a chance to encode and rehearse infor­ma­tion that was impor­tant dur­ing the day, that is as well as process things that may have been on our minds. The same seman­tic net­works that are active dur­ing the day are active in our sleep minus the real world to order them. Of course this is a rather sim­ple account. But it’s the prin­ci­ple that’s impor­tant. The prin­ci­ple is that the world that we expe­ri­ence is related to active con­stel­la­tions of infor­ma­tion in our brains, formed by the activ­ity between neu­rons that struc­ture and encode that infor­ma­tion. That activ­ity has an impact on how we act on the world, and of course that has an impact on our expe­ri­ences, which fur­ther influ­ences the world that influ­ences us.

As human beings, as minds a sig­nif­i­cant part of that activ­ity is ideational. A sig­nif­i­cant por­tion of our expe­ri­ence is formed through ideas, con­cepts and seman­tic activ­ity. Things mean things (if I am per­mit­ted a circularity).

And that is the sig­nif­i­cance of mean­ing. The mean­ing we find in things dri­ves us. We relate to mean­ing of things. Jung in his book The Sci­ence of Mythol­ogy drew this point out (albeit psy­cho­an­a­lyt­i­cally), and if we think of the way in which we use rep­re­sen­ta­tional medi­ums, like deserted islands (Deleuze), or the sig­nif­i­cance of a Brand in the mod­ern world, we come close to under­stand­ing the sig­nif­i­cance of ideas in our lives. But they run deeper.

The con­cept of a schema is impor­tant in under­stand­ing the same point. Schema, or pat­terns that rep­re­sent some part of the world don’t come in-​​built like the abil­ity to rec­og­nize faces (or like the struc­tures that con­tain the schemata). The con­cept of the arche­type is of this form as is the con­cept of the meme. They share enough sim­i­lar­i­ties to be syn­onyms for each other. That is they are both ref­er­ents for ideas.

Com­bin­ing all of the ele­ments in this pic­ture we can begin to form an under­stand­ing of our rela­tion­ship with the world of ideas. Ideas, rep­re­sented often as objects, have sig­nif­i­cance by virtue of our rela­tion to them. The rela­tion­ship between the objects we encounter, the ideas that we form them and the ideas we get learn in soci­ety act as ref­er­ents, pro­vid­ing the envi­ron­ment with a sense of sig­nif­i­cance. That sig­nif­i­cance dri­ves our rela­tion­ship with our envi­ron­ment: press­ing for­ward en-​​mass the devel­op­ment of ideas con­tained in that envi­ron­ment shape a she­matic of ideational con­tent press­ing us with mean­ing. Thank­fully this is a par­tial pic­ture. One I hope devel­ops the impor­tance of ideas in the world as fac­tors in our rela­tion­ship with it. One that can help us bet­ter con­cep­tu­al­ize why some ideas work and some don’t as we cre­ativ­ity develop an image of the world we’re in.

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From the eyes

MyAngelRocksBackandForth.mp3

It is a wonderful life. It is a wonderful life because we can feel it. Time passes for all of us, each day to stop and reflect, each day that has passed. Never to be lived again. Because it is wonderful.

Each second is unique. Each mind experiences it’s own fragment as time moves forward through us; passing back into a horizon that we’ve passed. Friends, love, laughs, they swell into an abyss of memory, only to be mirrored by another event, itself passing. And it is wonderful. It hurts wonderfully to know that each one of these moments is an end; an end of time. And it is wonderful.

Sometimes love is so pervasive it can’t be shared. In a moment of refection, in a glance a ray of light burns through a leaf and time evaporates into a mist. Transported into the heart of another time once lived a smile crosses like it was the first, and then all of a sudden a noise and back to the ending present. and it is wonderful.

And as age correlates more and more with the passage of time the bank of imagery grows all consuming. Wistful reflection.  Why? Because life is wonderful.

It is wonderful to be alive.

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Just a Thought or a feeling before I sleep tonight…..

Heaven.mp3

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You see, like you, I am me, and as myself I have a mind apart from the world that sees the me that is apparent to it. You see..

I’m not sure I know what this post is for or about except a cigar at night, on your own, or my own I ought to say. For as long as I have smoked, I’ve smoked alone at night. I will find a corner, somewhere I can sit, or kneel; somewhere I can see the sky, black and dotted, and for the length of the smoke there is something enduring, a moment that lasts.

There have been many corners in my life, schoolhouse bathroom windows watching out for teachers, bushes behind boarding houses, the back garden as my parents watched the news.

All of these safe and comfortable places where my comfort was the night sky; cool and forgiving, alone, I was sat with myself for long enough to, to something.

At parties I would always have to sneak away for a while. I go to the toilet, or make an excuse and stroll down the street, just long enough to feel a little of the night on my face, remember that there is a world beyond the moment that I can return to.

In the Middle East we had a marble doorstep with a light right above the door, I would lie on the doorstep with our ex-pat home brew wine, smoke and stare into an oblivion, dreaming up poems and futures and plans. A private place, a destructive peace, but for me there was one thing that made those corners my sanctuaries; they were the solemn repetitions of a habit of thought, the chance to be at complete distance from the world. Even the sky, protecting me at night was miles away, the stars only a spectacle.

And, after I finished my smoke I would walk back into the house, or shut the window and I was back in the world.

Do you have your private place?

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For another dream rush just click right here

Or listen to a dream – The Window & Stars of a Wandering Dream WanderingStar.mp3


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