Thinking too Much: Day 40

[B] An unscientific analysis of being-ness (40,493 / 1,000,000)

Eons of evolutionary pressures and adaptive forces have resulted in a creature which is supremely adapted to its environment. This creature is so dominant in its niche, so suited to its role, that it has remained largely unchanged for millions of years. Sharks of course aren’t the most convoluted creatures; like an axe or a hammer, a shark is a single-use tool which is supremely effective within its narrow scope of utility. Unlike an actual tool, however, a shark is a living creature — chaos and complexity are encoded into its very existence. As such, a shark’s effectiveness is inextricably intertwined with unforeseen or unforeseeable side-effects. Now, I know you must be thinking, “If I wanted shark facts, I would watch National Geographic”, but bear with me — I promise we’ll take this train of thought right off a cliff soon enough.

An interesting side effect of the single-mindedness of a shark’s evolutionary adaptations is that some of them can drown. Simply put, without perpetual motion some sharks can’t absorb enough oxygen from the water, and will die. Imagine a scenario in which if you stopped walking, air could suffocate you. You would think that such a weakness would be a monumental hurdle to overcome. But, as sharks do and have done for millennia, they just keep swimming.

Here's our offramp.

Like the shark, humans are creatures which are highly adapted to their environment. Although, as our adaptive power is our power to adapt, the success of the human species is unlike that of any other species on the planet. As a whole, our ability to shape the world is more god-like than animal-like, yet as individuals our abilities are more animal-like than god-like. The conundrum of our species is one borne out of our own specialized adaptation: our minds. A shark’s body is shaped around its forward momentum, so much so that without forward motion, a shark could die. A human mind is similarly adapted: purpose-built for problem-solving, creativity, and most of all cooperation. Together, we can move mountains; alone, we struggle to open pickle jars.

Human consciousness is not the adaptation, but the side-effect. The result of our evolutionary pressures is our ability to thrive in the physical world, using our minds as the primary tool with which we achieve that goal. The side-effect of that result is our awareness, our sense of self, our ability to imagine things beyond the realm of the physical. What matters to a shark is what it can perceive with its senses, things that are — from its own perspective — concretely real. What matters to a human may be largely and completely unreal. Companionship, justice, respect, and love all find their way into our media and cultural outlets, not out of any tangible need, but simply as a result of what we seem to collectively care about.

I’m not qualified to pontificate on the ramifications of the seemingly surreal-centric mindset of modern man, but as a thinking human I am qualified to add my thoughts to the collective conversation. Which, incidentally, is what I perceive to be the manifestation of how our evolutionary side-effect came to hold the reins of our species. The “collective conversation” has been the direction in which our species has been progressing all along. From the primitive grunts of our ancient ancestors to the global, instant thought-sharing of the internet; all paths lead towards the collection and unification of thought. Which isn’t to say that agreement is necessary. No, just as one’s own mind may be divided on some thoughts but unified on others, the collective mind allows for disagreement, change, and conflict.

Just the other week, I poked myself in the eye. How did my hand betray my face so boldly, I’ll never know. But I can at least be certain that my hand will never be SO bold as to claw my eyeballs out of my face. Collective humanity isn’t devoid of incidental damage, but the point is it shouldn’t willingly tear itself apart.

As a species, we have seemingly conquered the real. The physical world is a resource, rather than a threat. And so the collective has moved on to conquering the unreal. Our thoughts have changed. Not ‘Where am I?’, but ‘Why am I?’. Not life or death, but peace or justice. Not ‘Will this mushroom kill me?’, but ‘Will this mushroom complement my entrée?’. Unfortunately, while the collective has moved onto godhood, the individual is stuck in an animal’s shell. The real need for safety, shelter, and comfort still compels our thoughts and actions, but in the arena of the unreal, we seek safety from harmful ideas, shelter from contradictory opinions, and comfort in our own preconceived notions.

I’m just a guy who has a blog because it’s cheaper than getting a therapist. But the idea of being an animal making do in a god’s world has helped me reconcile with the vast, swirling cluster-fuck of human existence which can be at times wholly incomprehensible and frightening, but at other times fulfilling in a deeply spiritual and ineffable way.

Thank you to all those who read and support this blog! It isn’t clear as to why, but it is clear that there are many of us humans who feel compelled to inject their thoughts into the realm of the collective conversation, and to have that compulsion validated by support is more than any one of us could ever hope for. If you’re new, welcome! This blog is all about nonsense, and one where comprehensibility is sacrificed at the altar of my stream of consciousness. Thank you again, and as always…

Totally nailed it,

Michael