@Vinifera7: Hmmmm. I don’t know if I’ve ever been in this position before. See, how do you explain something that really doesn’t make sense until you experience it? I’ll try, but it won’t do it justice.
Intellectually, you know what Laureth just wrote, right? Every action we take affects not just other people, but animals and insects, and the earth, etc, etc. Each action has many unforeseen consequences. You can prove this mathematically or through physics. Whatever.
Well, as I think I said above, I believe that there is a part of our mind that is thinking along, but it doesn’t have language. So it’s got a problem in communicating to the part of us that does have language. I believe it is this non-linguistic mind that has all our sudden bursts of inspiration, or moments of genius. It often communicates at night, or while we are doing something else. It’s like when you get the answer to a problem you have been struggling with, and you give up, and go run or eat lunch or something, and when you come back to work, the answer is there, like magic.
Well, I think this part of our mind has a better grip on how things fit together, not just problems you are working on, but to all things. Every action has consequences that ripple out. That non-linguistic mind has an easier time projecting and understanding those consequences that the talkative mind.
Thus, in order to pay attention to the non-linguistic mind, you have to find a way to still your talking mind. Some people use meditations of various sorts to do this. Some people find it happens suddenly, for no reason at all. I use music and dance meditations. We have a process to get out of our minds and “into our bodies.” We tend to associate our body understanding with the non-linguistic part of our minds.
When this happens, you don’t just intellectually understand your connection to all things. You feel it. You are it. You understand your place in it, and you feel your relationship to all the other people in the room, and if you are dancing, it turns the dance into something that looks like it is choreographed, but never could have been choreographed. With music, it turns individual musicians in the band into one being. We call it something like “we all are reading off the same page.” Except there is no page.
Now some people call these kinds of feelings mysticism or inspiration from a deity, as far as I can tell. I call them being in the non-linguistic part of the mind.
It is easier with other people, because they are most like you, but it is also possible with the environment, or animals, or plants, or even, as I did once, the stars in the sky. Actually, that first mystical event of my life (it happened with I was maybe 18), gave me that first insight—something of the “we are all the same” nature. Or, we are all connected.
Anyway, that’s the best I can do now. I don’t know if it makes sense. All I know is how it feels to me, and what I’ve read about the brain. Most of the non-linguistic mind stuff is theoretical—my theory. Maybe in a decade, neuro-scientists will find something similar, or I might be proven totally wrong. So take it with a grain of salt. It’s just theory.