Since there's been discussions about "not knowing" and Hume recently, I thought this thread was worth reviving.
Is "self" actually just perceptions themselves into which a ghostly subject is imagined? Is it the collective
perspective by which perceptions become perceptions and are assimilated into my conscious reality? Is the experience of "self" merely the product of confusing perceptions with identity? In David Hume's
A Treatise Of Human Nature, he suggests exactly that:
We are every moment intimately conscious of what we call our self; we feel its existence and its continuing to exist, and are certain - more even than any demonstration could make us - both of its perfect identity and of its simplicity. The strongest sensations and most violent emotions, instead of distracting us from this view ·of our self·, only focus it all the more intensely, making us think about how these sensations and emotions affect our self by bringing it pain or pleasure. To offer further evidence of the existence of ones self would make it less evident, not more, because no fact we could use as evidence is as intimately present to our consciousness as is the existence of our self. If we doubt the latter, we cant be certain of anything.
But "self" is a process subject to endless change as new perceptions are assimilated and existing relationships between perceptions are changed. As Hume explained:
I am willing to affirm of the rest of mankind that they are nothing but a bundle or collection of different perceptions that follow each other enormously quickly and are in a perpetual flux and movement. Our eyes cant turn in their sockets without varying our perceptions; our thought is still more variable than our sight; and all our other senses and faculties contribute to this change in our perceptions, with no one of them remaining unaltered for a moment. The mind is a kind of stage on which many perceptions successively make their appearance: they pass back and forth, glide away, and mingle in an infinite variety of positions and situations. Strictly speaking, there is no simplicity in the mind at one time and no identity through different times, no matter what natural inclination we may have to imagine that simplicity and identity.
Is there a way to capture a head turning glimpse of "selflessness", a momentary loss of self that, because of its nature, cannot be assimilated into thought and language? This creates a sense that the self I imagine as the center of the web of relationships recognized as perceptions is not a "true" self. There is a sense that it is a construct of language and thought, one necessary to communication and for "existence" in social reality, but a construct nonetheless. But the experience of absence of self cannot occur within the framework of thought and social reality. Is it an aesthetic feeling, a sense of intimate oneness with an "other" that often gets labeled "love"?
Because I have self awareness I will have mystical experience, regardless of how I interpret it. Mystical experience and self-awareness are necessary compliments to one another. Without both there is neither. The message of myth, art, science and love is finding that ever elusive crossover point from the social reality of words and ideas to the poetic "ultimate reality" outside of the social reality of language.
But can I
really have an experience outside of language and thought? I can't, because the
self is hard-wired into language and thought, and it's only because I ordinarily function within a world constructed in thought that I can have a glimpse of mistake of conflating my
perspective (the ceaseless ebb and flow of perceptions) with being and identity. More from Hume:
That action of the imagination, by which we consider the uninterrupted and invariable object, and that by which we reflect on the succession of related objects, are almost the same to the feeling, nor is there much more effort of thought required in the latter case than in the former. The relation facilitates the transition of the mind from one object to another, and renders its passage as smooth as if it contemplated one continued object. This resemblance is the cause of the confusion and mistake, and makes us substitute the notion of identity, instead of that of related objects. However at one instant we may consider the related succession as variable or interrupted, we are sure the next to ascribe to it a perfect identity, and regard it as enviable and uninterrupted. Our propensity to this mistake is so great from the resemblance above-mentioned, that we fall into it before we are aware; and though we incessantly correct ourselves by reflection, and return to a more accurate method of thinking, yet we cannot long sustain our philosophy, or take off this bias from the imagination. Our last resource is to yield to it, and boldly assert that these different related objects are in effect the same, however interrupted and variable. In order to justify to ourselves this absurdity, we often feign some new and unintelligible principle, that connects the objects together, and prevents their interruption or variation. Thus we feign the continued existence of the perceptions of our senses, to remove the interruption: and run into the notion of a soul, and self, and substance, to disguise the variation.
Short of losing the "I am" that is the perspective by which sensation becomes perception, what else is there besides a mythology of "souls" and "spirit" pointing to an experience that cannot be brought into conscious thought or captured in language?