Well, that would be an invalid assumption of my thinking on the subject.
The people who know me consider me a very spiritual person.
I am a strong proponent of the value and effect of meditation on consciousness and I am a person who thinks enlightenment is real and worthy of pursuit.
But then... all of those aspects of spirituality can be measured and proven to be real.
You can demonstrate that meditation alters the function of human consciousness in a measurable degree.
You can show that enlightenment does actually alter people's mental processes and physiological response to stress.
None of this, however, argues that human consciousness can be divorced from the material world intact.
From my perspective, reality ITSELF is nothing more than conscious apprehension... the universe has no form without conscious perception of it.
...
But I refuse to accept weak anecdote and a total lack of evidence, just because I am scared shitless of dying.
Please... somebody... just pony up one iota of evidence that is unambiguous, or that I can't easily tell how it was staged.
I want to believe... but I refuse to be played.
Phil-
I spend a great deal of my time in other places saying that the plural of anecdote is not data. I am a firm believer in science and abhor people relying on superstition or conventional wisdom that is contrary to rational fact.
I do not speak often about my spirituality. It's none of anyone's business, I'm not out to convert anyone with differing ideas, and stake no claim to any universal spiritual truths. As you say above, and is confirmed by what we understand of quantum physics, perception alters reality. Light is both a beam and particle, which is impossible under Newton but understood as a given under Einstein. Its status depends entirely upon whether or not the light is perceived, and has proven that reality is ultimately subjective.
Now to the anecdotes, which as I said before are not pieces of data and are entirely subjective in nature:
I have had two Near Death Experiences (NDEs), during which I flatlined. I cannot report any tunnels of light, angels or specters of loving grandmothers. One of the experiences I remember quite well, as it happened suddenly while I was completely awake and happened as a result of an extreme reaction to a medication that was injected by a nurse while I was flat on my belly in a clinic in Boston.
The shock to my system was immediate: I heard a strong wooshing sound like pounding surf and felt intense sensations of pain and confusion as a wave started in my mouth and spread everywhere in seconds, during which I was screaming. One minute I was laying on the table, the next I was on the ceiling, looking down at what was going on. I could hear and see, but no longer had any physical sensation: the pain was gone, as was that weird ocean sound.
I could clearly see my body lying motionless and the nurse running to the phone, dialing some numbers. Within a few moments, I saw two other nurses enter through the door, accompanied by a doctor with curly hair whom I hadn't seen previously, wheeling a stainless-steel cart full of bottles and syringes. Without any sense of having moved, I found that I could see the doctor's hands as he plunged the syringe into a bottle, withdraw a serum and measure out the necessary dose as if in close-up. With no prep or preliminaries I saw him inject the needle into my ass.
I felt a strong pulling sensation moving me back to my body, then afterward a sharp pain where I'd been injected and began screaming again. I felt a hand on my head but couldn't see anything because my eyes were closed, as they had been when I was given the first injection. A few minutes passed before a nurse (not the same one who injected me) asked me if I were OK and wanted to know if I could slowly move up onto my back on the table. I said that I thought that I could, and did so with her help.
After I had rested for about 15 minutes, I asked the nurse if I'd died. Her face scrunched up and she said that I'd had a bad allergic reaction to the medication and that it had been corrected by a strong does of adreneline. When I told her that I'd been on the ceiling and saw what was going on, she listened carefully. When I reached the part about the doctor, I described him in great detail: his height, his hair color and style, his facial features, etc; she blanched a little bit but just nodded.
The doctor eventually came by, and I thanked him for "bringing me back". He chuckled and said that I hadn't gone anywhere, but was clearly rattled when the nurse told him of my adventure on the ceiling and I described a ring he was wearing in close detail.
That was in 1980, I was 20. I'll never forget the date because it was my mother's birthday that year, and we all made a big fuss over what had happened.
About 22 and one-half years later, I was very sick when a case of bronchitis turned rapidly into pneumonia in the course of a few hours. My fever spiked at 107, at which point my now-ex called an ambulance and I was rushed to the ICU and put on life support. I cannot remember anything specifically of the next 48-or-so hours at all that was quantifyably reality. But I do remember something that struck me as a dream, albeit an extremely vivid dream.
I remember really wanting to see my sister, with whom I've always been very close, to the point of our each knowing when something is seriously wrong with the other: we're connected even though we haven't lived in close proximity since the early 80s and don't call as often as we should sometimes. This was especially so at the time I am describing, as she and my ex loathed each other.
I remember seeing her at her office and remember clearly what she was wearing; I remember the color and texture of the carpet, right down to a spot near the door to her office that is worn and had a pull; I remember her desk and the brank of computer she had; and I remember seeing her interact with someone whom she admired and respected deeply who worked with her: where his office was in relation to hers, what he looked like and what he wore. But I had presumed that he was someone else, with whom she was much less friendly, and remember feeling angry around him.
As I had never visited her office, which was not even in the same state as I was living at the time, and had never met her friend/co-worker (nor seen a picture), it's tough to explain how I learned these things while I was sick in the ICU unconscious.
It took several hours for my fever to go down, and am aware of certain differences in my ability to focus, concentrate and remember details before and after. I am also much more given to emotionalism and confusion than I was before this happened to me, but
c'est la vie. At least I'm still alive. I was in the UCU for a total of two days and in the hospital for about a week.
I was told later that I'd had a lot of people very worried, most especially my sister who called every few hours throughout the ordeal. When I was out of the ICU and upstairs in a hospital bed, she called me and we talked for a long time. I described my "dream" of visiting her office, described the conditions there and what I'd seen her wear. She asked me if I could be specific as to when I'd seen this, but couldn't, as I was obviously unconscious. When asked why, she told me about how she'd come to learn that I was ill, as my ex would never have called her on his own.
She said that she'd had a terrible time sleeping that night and that she felt "almost drugged" at work that day, in a different state of consciousness (she has been sober since 1990) which she couldn't shake. She also claims to have seen my image reflected in her CRT monitor so frequently that she felt compelled to call me, spoke to my ex and got the full story at that time.
I described her friend/co-worker and his office in relation to hers to the point where he was instantly recognizable. when I asked if he was the guy with whom she'd been having difficulty, she said, no, that was the good guy. When I explained how I'd been angry at seeing him and sending off negative vibes, she drew a sharp breath and told me that he'd been avoiding her and was suddenly very ill-at-ease in her company. he couldn't explain why, but he had a strong feeling that he should stay as far away from her as possible.
This guy does not subscribe to any of this hocus-pocus. He works for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts as a psychologist at the Department of Mental Retardation (they still call it that). He couldn't explain how or why he felt so irrationally repelled from my sister, he just did.
Now I'm sure there are rational, scientific explanations for this: all about misfiring synapses and logical expressions of emotion, but I have never found any. You could say that I'm just some guy on an internet message board devoted to big dicks, and therefore have no credibility. And you could repeat my favorite chestnut about anecdote not being the plural of data, declare that unknowns are unknown because they haven't been studied yet, whipe your hands and walk away. I wouldn't blame you.
But what happened to me was objectively real to me, my sister and her friend. And the nurse back at that clinic in 1980 told me that NDEs happen more than people'd like to admit. But at the time that that happened to me, there was nothing in my field of reference or experience to relate it to. I didn't even know the term until the nurse said it to me.