Hey, everyone.
This is my blog. I post here whenever something is worth writing down.
Growing up, I always had the habit of keeping a diary. But somewhere along the way that broke. I stopped writing in a diary and started dumping my thoughts into my phone's notepad instead. It just suited me better. Quicker, always there.
I tried getting back to a diary a few times but could never stay consistent with it. The notepad stuck though. So I figured, why not take those thoughts and put them somewhere real. And since I like coding and building my own things, I built this myself instead of using some ready made platform. That felt right.
This place has three kinds of writing. Stories, which are the longer ones and based on my own experiences. Poetry, for when prose doesn't cut it. And Thoughts, where I pick something, think it through, and write my pov on it.
There is an idea called panpsychism. It suggests that consciousness isn't something that randomly appeared in humans or animals. It is a fundamental property of reality itself, the way gravity is, the way time is. Everything has some form of inner experience. Not emotions. Not thoughts the way we have them. Just something. A flicker of experience so alien we don't even have language for it.
I think there is something to that. But I want to push it further.
What if the reason we can't detect consciousness in other things isn't because it isn't there. What if we are just dimensionally blind to it.
Think about a 2D being living on a flat surface. It has length. It has width. That is its entire reality. Now imagine a 3D object passing through its world. The 2D being wouldn't see the object. It wouldn't feel it. It wouldn't even have the framework to understand that something is there. It wouldn't call it invisible. It would just call it nothing.
We might be doing the same thing.
Not because consciousness doesn't exist beyond us. But because we are built with a perceptual ceiling we didn't choose and cannot see past.
And then I think about the sadhus. The ones who leave everything behind, food, comfort, identity, the noise of ordinary life, and spend years or decades doing nothing but going inward. People call them crazy. Extreme. Disconnected from reality.
But what if they are doing the opposite. What if they are the only ones actually trying to connect to a reality we can't perceive from where we normally stand. What if all that meditation, all that stillness, all that deliberate dismantling of the ordinary self, is an attempt to push past the perceptual ceiling. To open a gate into a dimension of consciousness that normal human experience simply doesn't have access to.
Not superstition. Not religion for the sake of ritual. A method. A very old, very serious attempt to become something other than 2D in a world that might have infinite dimensions.
Consciousness might not be a biological accident that happened to humans on a small planet. It might be a hidden layer of reality running through everything. And while most of us are standing flat against the surface, some people have been trying for centuries to find the door.
Maybe they are not lost.
Maybe they are just further along than the rest of us can see.
So all knowledge involves belief but not all belief is knowledge. You can believe something that is false or believe something true but for the wrong reasons neither counts as knowledge
We hold others accountable for what they do. Not what they meant. Not what was happening inside them when they did it. Just the action, visible, measurable, impossible to argue with. He left. She lied. They didn't show up. We take what we can see and we build our judgement on that. The intention stays invisible so we treat it like it doesn't exist.
But when it comes to ourselves, we flip the entire framework.
We did something wrong but we meant well. We hurt someone but we didn't intend to. We failed but we know how hard we were trying. The action becomes secondary. The intention becomes the whole defence. We stand inside our own experience and judge from there, from the warmth of what we were trying to do, from the version of ourselves we know we meant to be.
And both of these feel completely natural. That is the strange part.
It feels fair to judge others by what they did because that is all we have access to. We cannot see inside anyone. All we get is behaviour. So we work with what we have.
And it feels fair to judge ourselves by intention because that is all we have access to from the inside. We know what we meant. We know the full story. So we work with what we have.
The problem is not that one is right and the other is wrong. The problem is that we apply them selectively and never notice we are doing it.
We extend to ourselves the grace we refuse to give others. And we hold others to a standard we would never survive ourselves.
Maybe knowing this doesn't fix it. But it does make it harder to pretend we are being fair.