Non-material energy consists of wave patterns too, so there are reasonable grounds to believe that, at least in some cases, they can resonate with the waves produced by its material equivalent. In other words, the soul and the body can be considered different forms of energy that are linked via waves. This enables them to work together and influence each other. One curious characteristic of life is that, unlike machines, life cannot be interrupted. For example, a car can be switched off and turned on again much later. Life cannot. A living organism needs constant activity. In principle, this should not be necessary in order to preserve body functioning, and is ineffective from the energy consumption point of view. It is more likely that the constant working of the body is needed to maintain the vibrations that connect the body and the soul.

But how is this connection established in the first place? DNA is particularly important in this respect. DNA produces a wide range of frequencies – creating a ‘composition’ that is unique to every person. Functional genes, though, are not probable candidates for the connection. However, the wave patterns produced by some of the DNA sequences that are sometimes referred to as ‘junk DNA’ (because they do not contribute to protein or RNA production) may be responsible – indeed, the majority of DNA variations are found there. It is likely that not only the body but the soul too has a specific wave pattern, a unique signature. So when a new organism is created, if these signatures are compatible (possibly within a certain range), the waves of the body and the soul get interlocked. Once this connection is established, it remains quite stable. The body is normally connected to the same soul during the entire lifetime. When the body ceases to function and produce waves, that connection is broken.

There is a long and widespread tradition of belief that the body extends beyond its physical boundaries, in other words, that it has its own field. In Christianity, the term aureole is used for a field surrounding the whole body and halo for the part of it around the head (ohr hamakif – enveloping light, and hila – emanation of light, in Jewish mystical tradition). Biofields are also commonly recognised in the East (e.g. prana, Qi, or energy flows that are associated with chakras). There are some studies indicating that the bio-field can be detected by humans (see, for example, Hunt at al., 1977), but overall, empirical evidence is sparse. This may be the case because such an ability can only work at slower brainwave frequencies which are difficult to sustain in experimental settings, or because those who are capable of seeing the biofield are not interested to engage in these experiments. So, let’s see what conclusions we can draw from applying the inductive-deductive method.

A so-called ‘morphogenetic (form-generating) field’ was postulated in as early as the 1920s by biologist Alexander Gurwitsch, who claimed that the generation and regeneration of organisms is guided by it. In the 1930s, as a result of experimental work, a professor of anatomy at Yale, Harold Burr, proposed (with philosopher F. S. C. Northrop) the existence of a life-field that shapes the organism. After the Second World War, research carried out in China, Kazakhstan, Russia, Poland and the US seems to provide support for the existence of an energy field generated by the human body. Furthermore, this field appears to be affected by the mental states of the subjects. All this indicates that this phenomenon should not be simply dismissed, especially considering that it may be necessary to explain some aspects of biological functioning on molecular and cellular levels.

The Mechanisms That Enable Consciousness

There is no doubt that the brain is instrumental for consciousness, especially for the formation of specific patterns, such as images, that correspond to, or are associated with, the phenomena and events of physical life. The likely mechanism that enables this process is the interference (the combining) of coherent electromagnetic fields at the point of dendritic interactions. This interference can produce holographic-like representations. It also allows memory to be recalled by a ‘reference’ signal (any associated element can be a trigger, a ‘reminder’ for the activation of the pattern), and enables the storing of potential information in a distributed rather than localised manner (for more detail, see section ‘Memory’ in the chapter The Intermediaries of the Mind).

On more basic levels, though, the very complex structure of the brain does not seem to be necessary for consciousness. A cytoskeleton consisting of microtubules could play a similar role to the nervous system in cells. Pribram, Penrose, Hameroff, Schempp and many others have applied quantum physics to analysing the relation between consciousness and neuronal functioning. They claim that quantum coherence (which means that when two quantum systems interact, their wave functions become ‘phase entangled’) can

The body enables physical life, but itself is not alive. It is a part of a living system for as long as it is coupled with the soul. To say that the body dies feels counter-intuitive, because deep down we know that it has never lived. We take the view that physical bodies are extremely complex organic instruments. Materialists make a similar claim, but this is inconsistent within their framework. They seem to ignore the facts that instruments are always built with a purpose and their working has to be externally initiated (at least the working of the first one that may then self-replicate). This inconsistency is avoided here as we take the position that life is indeed purposeful, as discussed in the part The Meaning. We shall say, though, a few more words specifically about the purpose of the body.

The purpose of the body: the body makes existence in the physical world possible and holds the soul grounded, which enables its rudimentary shaping. Its role is also to stabilise and protect – from the volatile tendencies of non-material energy on the one hand, and an excessive amount of input, on the other. Regarding the former, although bodies allow various degrees of proactivity, they also restrict the actions of an organism. About the input, the physical senses are the first instance of selecting what we are going to be aware of. Without this, we would be like a TV receiver that picks up all the available transmitting signals at the same time; they would not produce information, but a meaningless noise. So besides enabling interaction with the environment, the body also creates the boundaries that are needed until the non-material aspect is capable of self-control. This ‘narrowing’ of the soul is necessary to facilitate a gradual development – the body restricts in order to allow controlled expansion and growth.

The notion of the soul (interpreted in various ways) appears in practically every culture: the Egyptian term was ba, the Hindu atman, the Jewish neshamah, the medieval Christian anima divina. Popper writes:

There is an abundance of important evidence that supports the hypothesis that dualistic and interactionist beliefs concerning body and mind are very old – prehistoric and of course historic. Apart from folklore and fairy tales, it is supported by all we know about primitive religion, myth, and magical beliefs. (Popper and Eccles, 1977, p.157)

For most Greek philosophers too, the soul was a matter of fact. They identified the soul with the life principle itself and also the source of inner movement. Plato considered the self (soul) distinct from the body and capable of living without it. Aristotle also acknowledged a non-material aspect of a human being (although he interpreted it in a different way from Plato). Roman biographer Plutarch speaks about nous, uncorrupted soul that survives death. Cicero too was a dualist. Soul, as a breath of life, appears in Egyptian Gnostic Myths, the book of Genesis and the Arabian Creation Myth. Not all religions, however, support this notion. Mainstream Buddhism rejects the idea of the eternal non-material soul as taught in Hinduism (anatta doctrine), which is consistent with its creed of impermanence and makes its essentially idealistic position closer to materialist views. However, this creates a number of other inconsistencies (regarding the concepts of the self, reincarnation and Nirvana). The Old Testament seems ambiguous about whether humans are purely physical beings or not. In the earlier period, the emphasis is very much on this world (as, for example, in the Book of Job). Later, though, the soul becomes more independent from the body. In Christianity, it is considered an eternal, divine,

Although these abilities are obviously a very important part of the life process, it is questionable if they really define life. Organisms that do not reproduce (e.g. mules that are born sterile) or have stopped reproducing or growing are still alive, thermometers can respond to heat yet they are not alive. These examples are brought up not to point out that such a definition is imprecise (after all, most definitions have fuzzy boundaries), but that something essential may be missing. What from a common sense viewpoint seems fundamental to life are the abilities to experience and to be pro-active, and consequently, having a unique centre of experience and pro-activity (meaning that my experience cannot be your experience). In other words, awareness, intent and the self (awareness and intent, of course, do not always need to be operational – a temporarily unconscious person is not dead[1]). A computer, for example, can perform certain operations similar to thinking. Yet, it has nothing that can be paralleled to awareness or intent. A computer is not aware, it does not experience, nor does it have intentions. It can beat a human being in chess, but it is not aware that it has won and it cannot even start a game when it pleases.

There is, however, an epistemological challenge to the above proposition. An ability to be aware may be a necessary characteristic of life, but due to the inherent limitations of observation, it cannot be easily verified. We know phenomenologically that we are aware. It can be also extrapolated from verbal reports and the behaviour of others that they also experience. Animals react in a comparable way to situations that cause pain, pleasure or fear, so it is plausible that they have a similar capacity. But what about plants or bacteria or even individual cells in one’s body? Do they experience at all? They may have some rudimentary experiences so different from ours that it is impossible to draw any conclusions on the basis of observations, including transpersonal ones[2]. As awareness, the self too is non-observable. However, there is something that separates organisms from inanimate matter and can be observed – intentional, self-generated activity.

The Materialist Interpretation

Materialist doctrine is based on the belief that the functioning of living organisms can be reduced entirely to physical and chemical processes. Consequently, ‘the study of life at all levels, from social to molecular behaviour, has in modern times relied on reductionism as the chief explanatory concept.’ (Morowitz, 1981, p.34) Some supporters of materialism, zealous to associate life with inanimate matter, even use machine-like terminology. For example, Richard Dawkins, of ‘The Selfish Gene’ fame, describes living organisms in terms of mechanisms, replicators and robots. Ironically, this, in fact, contradicts materialism:

It has for some time been generally supposed that organisms are mechanisms and that, since mechanisms work in accordance with physical and chemical laws, organisms must also do so… Unfortunately this assumption has been misconceived to mean that organisms must be wholly explicable as the resultants of physical and chemical laws because mechanisms are. Actually it means exactly the opposite. For mechanisms are not wholly explicable as the resultants of the operation of physical and chemical laws. (Polanyi & Prosch, 1975, p.168)

Machines are purposely built and they can be fully understood only in that context. So, if life forms are machines, the same should apply. Polanyi concludes: ‘biologists will tell you that they are explaining living beings by the laws of inanimate nature, but what they actually do, and do triumphantly well, is to explain certain aspects of life by

What the Self is not

We need first to clarify that the self is different from ‘I’ which can be considered the sum of its identifications. The self already exists when an infant is born, while many aspects of ‘I’ (or our personality) do not, but are slowly formed. In the physical life, the self identifies with that which provides the materials to awareness and can be influenced by intent. This is normally a physical body with its senses and the nervous system. That the self identifies with the body rather than being the body is demonstrated by the fact that in dreams, the self can dis-identify from the body and identify with a self-image (without even noticing the difference). The same applies to one’s name, nationality, various roles, personal habits and other elements of our personality. They all constitute what is commonly referred to as ‘I’, but they are not part of the self, nor is the self part of them. In summary:

The self itself, the necessity – as Kant put it – of the ‘I think’ being able to accompany all of my representations, a transcendental ego which is quite different to, and independent of, the empirical self that in the natural standpoint each of us identifies as ‘me’. (Solomon, 1988, p.136)

So, any part of oneself that the person can observe, imagine or think of, is a part of ‘I’, not the self. For example, you can ‘observe’ your thoughts, but this very ability to observe highlights the distinction between the ‘observer’ and the observed (thoughts themselves). However, if you have an image of

What intent is not

Intent is different from other possible triggers of activity, such as instincts and urges, reflexes, desires, and even will. Instincts and urges are reactions or responses that clearly do not need to be intentional. However, the distinction between will and intent may need to be elaborated further because it is not self-evident. Intent is a pre-thought, pre-language (in other words, pre-construct) phenomenon, while will has a cognitive basis, closely related to conscious decisions. As the former is not constructed it can never be precisely formulated, while the latter can.

The already mentioned experiments by Libet provide support for the difference between will and intent. In the case of a voluntary action, such as moving a finger, for example, a pre-verbal and pre-thought energy impulse (intent) first initiates a neuronal activity. This is called readiness potential (a tension before an action, detected by EEG as a voltage change in the brain region associated with such action). Formulating the impulse (a cognitive process known as decision and normally associated with will) comes later. It is like a driver who first starts the engine, and only after a few moments moves the car. So, in a way, the engine is prepared for the action before the driver decided to move the car – but after he had intended to do so. Congruent with Libet’s own conclusions, will (decision) has a purpose either to veto or proceed further with the intended action (see Libet, 2004).

Of course, many other physiological, environmental, and mental factors (e.g. needs, social pressure, personal principles) influence will.

Animals and human infants do not show much will (they may exhibit the peculiarities of their character, but this is not will). They have little overall conscious control of their actions. Intent, on the other hand, is present in all life forms from the beginning, although it may not be strong and

What awareness is not

As in the previous case, to clarify what awareness is, we first have to make a distinction between awareness and other phenomena that are easily confused with it, such as consciousness.

Awareness is different from mental processes such as thoughts, images, sensations, emotional reactions, etc. The Ancient Greeks had separate terms for awareness (psyche) and mental activity (pneuma), but this difference is obscured nowadays. Some philosophers and neuroscientists (e.g. G. E. Moore, Baars) have recognised, though, that they cannot be treated as the same thing. Grossman, for example, writes: ‘We can introspectively discriminate between the contents of consciousness and the quality of being conscious’ (in Bogen, 1998, p.237). Libet makes the same point:

The content of an awareness can be anything. But being aware is a unique phenomenon in itself, independent of the nature of the particular content in awareness (2004, p.188).

To preserve this distinction, the term consciousness is used throughout the text for all the mind activities (of which some comprise the materials of awareness). Awareness, on the other hand, does not refer to any specific mental processes, but to that which enables cognising them. An analogy can be made with a movie projection: everything that is on the screen can be considered consciousness, while awareness would be the equivalent of the projector light that is not a part of the movie, but enables whatever is on the screen to be visible. Another parallel can be made with a torch that casts light on various objects. If what is lit by the torch comprises consciousness, awareness is the light from the torch (and like a torch, it cannot illuminate all the objects at the same time).