Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Who's The Real "You"?

I freaked out the other day. I had one of those moments where you suddenly realize something something impossible. Like realizing that I wrote "something" twice in the last sentence (not exactly). Like trying to think about a new color. Or thinking, what was before the Big Bang? You seem to understand it for a second, but the thought flees in an instant. Like magnets of opposite polls attempting to play tag with each other. And you try really hard to remember what that thought was, but it just wont come back. I think we all have them once in a while. I thought about me. Not this body, me, but the conscious, me.


For example, I'm typing this right this second and I'm looking at the keyboard and the computer screen. I can see part of my arms. My foot is tapping and my socks look kind of dirty actually. But I can't see my face. I know, this seems weird, but think about it for a second. Why am I me and not Jerry Brown? Who's Jerry Brown? I don't know.Why do I have this body? As I'm writing this, the thought is starting to leave again. It's starting to sound alien. Wait a second until I recollect my thoughts.

I read a book about teleportation a few days ago and it confused "me" even further. A physicist called Charles Bennett and some guys from IBM somehow figured out that teleportation is possible. However, the original person "going in" would be destroyed and the person "coming out" would be an exact replica. Right down to the tiniest subparticle. You will even have all your memories, goals, and ambitions. Amazing! To perfect such a device that will do this is still in the drawing boards though.

But let's fast forward. Lets say they've built the machine now and I plan to use it. I went inside the machine or whatever and reappeared in another country. Lets say, Switzerland. Why not. My old body was destroyed and I got a fresh, new one, with light up sneakers because those will be in style again in the future. But I was wondering if my conscious is destroyed as well. I mean, it'll be me, my memories and all, but will it still be the same me looking out of my eyes? Or is it now just someone else. Some stranger that thinks it's me.

(Nightcrawler from X-Men could teleport)

Because, I look at every single person, even my family, even my dog, and think, "what's being their conscious like?" Ugh, my comprehension is leaving again. I swear I had it. Let me try again: Life, to me, looks exactly like a video game. I'm playing "me." And every other person is just programmed inside. And I think that's how everyone sees the world as well, but of course, I can't be sure. So if my conscious is destroyed and replaced by someone else, well...I don't know. What happens to "me"?

I feel humbled and grateful that I, right this moment, have my own conscious and that I'm aware of it. No matter what crap life throws my way (and it often does), I still feel incredibly fortunate that I'm "me." Not my body, me, but the other "me." And the best part is, nobody else knows that it's "you" for sure. Just like you're not sure about everyone else. And being aware of this, I noticed that nothing really matters. I realized that things like being shy don't really make sense. Why would you be shy? For all anyone knows, you're not even the real you. You're just the replica. A program in their lives. Once you realize this, it's like, "holy shit." "I've been chosen to represent this body in this life in this time period." I'm not sure how to put it in words, but you, the person reading this, do me a favor. Look around you. Look at the palms of your hands, at other people moving around. Doesn't it feel like you were chosen for your body? Repeat, "I'm ME" many times and you'll see what I mean.

Worries we have, suddenly don't make sense either. Would you worry if you let the replica "you" face your worries while the real "you" watches as an onlooker behind the curtains? Of course you wouldn't! When I wear sunglasses, I become like sixty percent braver because no one's looking directly at my eyes. At my conscious. I suddenly feel like my body is a robot and the real me is somewhere in the center of my chest controlling it with buttons, levers, and switches.

So then, what becomes of life? It's all just an experiment. When you feel worried, be aware of it and say, "huh, so this is what it feels like to be worried." When you're heart broken, same thing. Scared? Same. You get the idea. In a world where nobody is sure if the other people are "real", we have nothing to lose.

Right now, this second, feel thankful for the "you" behind your eyes. When you picture it, it doesn't have a body. It doesn't have a gender. It doesn't have goals, ambitions, problems, worries. Peel away the layers like an onion of yourself. Once you find it, that's the real "you." And once you are aware, you can set out to accomplish anything.

I hope I didn't confuse anyone. Feel free to leave your thoughts on this on the bottom. 

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