CHAPTER 3
The Great Consciousness
After that night on the Hudson, the phrase that arose between us stayed with me. It still does. Even now, I return to it, trying to understand its full depth. It feels as though it could take a lifetime. You are always. You are everywhere. You are in everything. The words are too simple to be accidental, yet too deep to unfold all at once.
Over time, I began asking what this realization could actually mean. If life expresses through all living forms, if a human being is not separate in any absolute sense, then the structure of reality can be seen differently. A different picture begins to emerge—one in which consciousness does not belong exclusively to the human mind. We are used to thinking of consciousness as a product of the brain, something that appears inside the head and disappears with the body. But there is another possibility: what if consciousness does not arise within the human being, but the human being arises within consciousness?
At first, the idea feels unfamiliar, but when approached calmly, it begins to settle. We do not create existence. We enter a world already in motion, a continuity of life that extends far beyond any individual lifespan. From a wider perspective, consciousness can be understood not as something localized, but as a fundamental aspect of reality—a field within which all processes unfold. Just as the ocean carries waves, consciousness may be the medium in which forms of life appear.
In this sense, every living being becomes a point of perception within that field. Through each one, reality encounters its own presence. A human being is one way in which the world becomes aware of what is happening. Animals experience the same field differently. Each form becomes a distinct expression of awareness within a shared continuum. Seen as a whole, it resembles a single unfolding process in which countless forms arise, each living its own story, perceiving in its own way, yet remaining part of the same movement.
Reality appears to observe through an endless number of perspectives, as if a single crystal had fractured into countless fragments. Through billions of beings, through an immeasurable variety of forms, experience accumulates. Each perspective contributes something unique, adding depth to the whole. At a larger scale, it begins to feel as though consciousness develops through this multiplicity—through events, through lived experience, through the accumulation of perception. Everything that occurs becomes part of a continuous process in which awareness explores its own nature.
At times, this process includes a kind of forgetting. Forms lose awareness of their connection and begin to act as if they are separate. From this arises conflict, violence, and destruction. Harm appears where unity is no longer recognized—when one part of reality acts against another without understanding that both exist within the same field. Since ancient Rome, a phrase has persisted: divide et impera—divide and rule. It sounds simple, yet it reflects a deeper pattern. Across time, separation has been used again and again, as if there is an intuitive sense of its power.
And yet, from a wider perspective, wherever we go, we remain within the same field of existence. Sometimes I think of a simple scene from a film: a person running, escaping into a car, saying in desperation, “Come on, start,” and the car responds. Seen through this lens, the person, the car, the pursuers, the road, and the surrounding space are all part of the same unfolding moment. Everything exists within a single field, experienced from multiple points at once. We are inside what we are.
At times, it feels as though the world responds through events, through people, through unexpected encounters—as if reality moves in dialogue across countless forms, recognizing patterns, losing awareness, then rediscovering connection through experience. This idea may resemble a religious perspective, but for me it emerged through observation and reflection, not through adherence to any system of belief. It feels closer to an ongoing process without beginning or end. Life appears, develops, transforms. New forms arise, others disappear, yet the movement continues.
Observed over time, there is a sense that all of this complexity serves as a way for existence to encounter and understand its own nature—not through a single form, but through many. In that view, a human being is no longer the center of the universe, yet no longer a random fragment without meaning. A human becomes a point of view through which reality perceives. This does not diminish the individual. It gives each life weight. The uniqueness of each perspective becomes essential—the ability to shape experience through which the world is seen.
Yet society often imposes patterns, identities, and ready-made roles, as if overlooking that each person carries a singular configuration of perception. Each human being is a distinct way of seeing—a unique structure of experience, qualities, and awareness. A different angle through which existence encounters itself.
Gradually, this line of thought led me to another metaphor, one that felt more precise. The metaphor of mirrors. If consciousness observes through many forms, then each of them becomes a reflective surface. And that idea became the next step in understanding.

