The Next Stage of Human Evolution: A Unitary Consciousness

Let's picture an orb.

We can travel around it like a sun, but this orb is so dense that the equilibrium of the escape velocity of light equals v(1/v+1), meaning that the quantum of resistance is some factor greater than the velocity of light. Gases and the elemental layers are divided by their specific gravity and compressed so greatly that isotropic static from electrons in excess of the quantum equilibrium of each layer form rings at the borders between the layers. This means that light is refracted along these layers with the effect of a venetian blind. As we travel around, glimmers of light fractals--colored by the spectral characteristics of the isotropic layers—offer sparkling contrast to the dominant bands of absolute blackness.

The other thing we notice is that 'matter' from nearby satellites is being drawn like so many dust devils into the orb. The base of the dust devil being somewhere in the black bands and the top edge of the vortex roughly the diameter of the individual satellites that are getting sucked in.

A graphic novelist might imagine Aunt Hattie’s house and all of its furnishings ‘falling upwards’ toward the sky, along with that beautiful grove of poplars that we remember climbing as a child…up by their roots and into the swirling vortex toward the orb. Dear Aunt Hattie, herself, might be pictured by the artist in the foreground holding her Sunday hat in place looking somewhat like the model for Edvard Munch’s The Scream. Oh my, Auntie, we might cry out, you are falling into a great big hole! And there you have the most important visual clue to understanding our universe and how it ticks. Holes are geometric orbs suspended in space, not flat holes in the ground like the one into which Alice fell.

The geocentrism and biocentrism of us humans are revealed when we read about black holes; we habitually think of the simple gravity model of earth rather than envision the complex gravity of space. Yet we know that a black hole isn't a hole torn through our space when we can actually see the penumbra of a black hole through Hubble optics. The existence of a galactic backdrop tells us that back holes aren’t like holes in the boat; they are orbs suspended in space.

Doctor Robert Lanza’s observations about the “biocentrism” of the human observer are profound and liberating. Our biology provides a limited and imperfect lens through which we understand the universe. Even wonderful devices like the Hubble telescope, merely make our imperfections more precise. Philosophers have examined this issue of how we know and whether we can know since ancient times. They call this field of analysis epistemology. Dr. Lanza adds to that ancient discussion.

I believe the limits of our own biocentrism argue for the role of the artist and the poet in the fields of deepest scientific inquiry. Transcendent vision and intuitive leaps come from outside the biological lens. Carl Jung once wondered if the ecstatic visioning of the mystics might presage an evolutionary development of human consciousness when a unitary and not a fragmented awareness of the universe will be “normal”.

Maybe one day we will have a ‘technology of the sacred’ and ‘visionary’ engineering to aid in our survival and happiness.

Perhaps that day is closer than we dinosaurs may suspect.