
"Conscience is the voice of the soul, the passions are the voice of the body." Jean-Jacques Rousseau
The individual can observe their environment or others at multiple levels of consciousness. These levels correspond to different activated cerebral zones. Depending on the neurons solicited, our consciousness of things varies in depth and aspect.
It extends from illusion to truth.
For a clock, for example, an hour is an hour — but for a human being, it contracts or expands according to their state of mind. An hour does not have the same intensity if it is attached to pleasure or to suffering.
According to current knowledge, between birth and death, we have access to only one reality — that generated by the permanent flow of our brain. In other words, everything we see, feel or imagine is necessarily true for us, since it is our only possible reality (including the illusions with which we sometimes deceive ourselves).

But if we hold as true what is external to our mind, things change. If the outside of oneself is real, then truth and reality leave our interiority. It is no longer necessarily true. Our perception of the world, for example, is different from that of a fly, a chimpanzee or a tree. My conception of matter is not that of physicists. My perception of things is different from that of others. I do not feel the same things in response to the same events. We do not have the same past. We are not situated in the same place.
We can therefore already distinguish two types of consciousness: intimate consciousness and exterior consciousness. The realities experienced by the individual, and the reality of "general human consciousness" — the individual gaze and the "phenomenological gaze", in a sense.

According to our philosophy, humanity is evolving toward wisdom and ecstasy. Human society is moving toward full consciousness and awakening. The greater part of our reflection will revolve around these subjects.
Our various states of consciousness are more or less simple or more or less composite. There is a difference of consciousness, for example, between spontaneous anger and planned vengeance — between malevolent thought and benevolent thought.
Let us imagine ourselves seated at a work table in our favourite library. Around us, other users go about their activities. For the majority of people, this place is: "peaceful, calm, silent, meditative". If there existed an average human consciousness, this is how it would qualify the place.
But we can have a different appreciation of this space. Our intimate consciousness could be radically different from this collective norm. For example, if I am in love with the librarian, my feeling for the place will be different — it will probably be enriched by a dimension of desire, non-existent in "normal consciousness". Conversely, if I arrive in this place in a state of existential panic, my sensation risks being inverted.
On a more general level, my consciousness of the other users will progress according to my interest in them.
Diffuse consciousness — superficial, light and ghostly awareness of existence when I am particularly concentrated on my work. Others will then attract no particular attention from me. I will perceive the existence of other people near me. I will sense them turning pages, sitting and standing, but I will apprehend these existences as background noise — a kind of light ambience perfectly accorded with my work.
Attentive consciousness — if, less invested in my task, I am more interested in my momentary companions. Attentive consciousness if I am curious about their gestures, bearing and behaviour. In that case these "others" will have more importance for my mind. I will see no longer silhouettes, but human beings whose fellow I feel myself to be.
Desiring consciousness. If I now become captivated by a person in the room, my interest will naturally focus on them. As a result, this obsession will minimise the other others. It will also minimise the importance of my work and the beauty of the place. My consciousness will instinctively direct itself toward this other. My gaze will attach itself to their sensuality, their eyes, their body and so on. It will watch for the interest this person might accord to me.
Under the sway of an exhilarating passion I will perceive people and places differently. The world will seem enchanted whatever the space and people may be. The sensations of my body will also change — practically extinguished in a state of intellectual concentration, they occupy a large place under the exaltation of desire.
Let us take another example.
Let us imagine ourselves in the presence of a lion under several representations.
In each of these experiences, my consciousness of the animal will be different.
Vague consciousness — fugitive, if I am performing a memory exercise to represent the image of a lion to myself.
Intellectual and scientific consciousness — if I am studying the social organisation and behaviours of the animal.
Consciousness enriched by an affectionate dimension — if a trainer allows me to stroke this big cat without danger. My consciousness will then intuitively seek to establish an affective relationship with this lion.
Moral consciousness — if the animal is mistreated. My consciousness will develop a feeling of revolt against the torturing zoo.
And survival consciousness — in the savanna facing a threatening lion. At that moment, empathy, fascination, cultural or artistic interest disappear from the mind. The consciousness of the moment will be primitive. It will reduce this lion to the simple status of danger.
And finally, there is the consciousness of the ecstatic. If I am in a state of ecstasy, my consciousness of a lion — even a threatening one — will have an entirely different dimension (the ecstatic state is a state of absolute love toward all things). Ecstasy, indeed, acts on the human being as on the animal.
In conclusion, our field of consciousness is extensible. It goes from imagining consciousness to ecstatic consciousness. The awakening of our consciousness begins with the vague and superficial feeling of things observed hazily. It encompasses the spontaneous consciousness declining from our desires, fears and hopes. It evolves toward the analytical and psychological consciousness of a precise and studied thing. It then rises to moral consciousness, to blossom in the consciousness of ecstasy in contemplation.

A good conscience is the eye of God (Russian proverb).
In all positions, except the ecstatic state, the perception of the individual is subjective. Their vision of things depends on their character and their intimate history. For example, a whale hunter and a Greenpeace activist will have a different consciousness of cetaceans. "Ordinary" consciousness varies according to several things — it depends on the mood and intention of the moment.
According to the terminology of Maine de Biran, the subject is the individual acting voluntarily upon themselves and upon the world. The individual motivated by intentions, desires, will, affects, worries and feelings. All the various levels of "ordinary perception" are constructed by the subject.
Each level of consciousness is elaborated by an arsenal of mental faculties. In this arsenal we find perception, feeling, memory, affectivity, reasoning and so on. This provision of faculties pushes humanity to action (constructive, destructive, positive, negative).

Ecstasy is the highest degree of the mind. It is a state of absolute psychic equilibrium — a linear state of mind, empty of intentionality and judgement. It is absolutely invariable emotionally speaking. This transcendental state engenders a single physical and psychic sensation: a sensation of joy and intense jubilation, a feeling of absolute and invariable love toward oneself, others and things.
Ecstatic consciousness is radically different from ordinary consciousness. It does not use the same cerebral routes. In the state of ecstasy, the individual ignores the zones relative to me, to the subject. The layers relative to the ego, to personality and to character are extinguished. In other words, in ecstasy we no longer deal with a subjective consciousness but with an objective consciousness — a consciousness that self-emanates, that self-feels. It is no longer I as subject who is conscious of things; it is the Consciousness within me that is in phase with things.
Ecstasy deactivates the zones of impulses, desire, projection, memories and intention. There remains then a kind of pre-reptilian layer — the cerebral layer where the senses constitute themselves in their raw state.
Seeing, feeling, hearing, tasting, walking — in short the basics for the body to live and sense (without impulse). From this state results a feeling of absolute well-being: a feeling of joy and intense love toward all things.
The sensations of love felt in the ecstatic state manifest themselves outside the person. The beatific individual ultimately externalises everything they feel. As they feel only love, they emanate only this love. There is no mask. No role played. Consciousness in a state of ecstasy is identical inside and outside. This is why we can say of ecstatic consciousness that it is "objective".
Ordinary consciousness, on the contrary, masks the greater part of its feelings. The organisation of society obliges the human being to preserve itself in this way. The greater part of impulses, desires and intentions remain in the secret of the heart. This is the ordinary game of existence. Furthermore, facing the world, ordinary consciousnesses vary from one individual to another. The consciousnesses of viewers are not identical before the same Van Gogh painting, or before the same person. In other words, ordinary consciousness is subjective — it is entirely representative of the subject.
In the state of ecstasy, consciousness is perfectly basic. It is a consciousness in the biological sense of the term — a kind of initial consciousness provided with each human body. It is devoid of personality traits. It has no subjective vision, no individuality, no personal interpretation. It is the consciousness of the Human Being (physiologically speaking) but emptied of its personality — emptied of all the foundations of the moral, legal and intellectual person. Also empty of its tendencies and impulses — in short, of its "primateness".
This is why the ecstatic represents absolutely no danger whatsoever.
In sum, ecstasy renders the individual perfectly harmless.
Year 2001
2001
"He who masks his faults finds himself, in the end, unmasked by his own conscience."— William Shakespeare
Ce n'est pas une utopie. C'est une trajectoire déjà visible, inscrite dans l'histoire depuis le premier primate. Lentement. Imparfaitement. Mais dans une direction.
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