Short Conclusion

Short Conclusion


Interpretive Clarification: Consciousness, Coherence, Agency, Accountability and Memory

From my perspective no part of my experience was random and it wasn't defined by predetermination. We assign predetermination to outcomes that come as a conclusion of patterns operating in the unconscious, and I was conscious for the most part of my experience. My experience was the logical threshold of a process that had been quietly forming all my life - consciousness fulfilling its own pattern while allowing room for both agency/agency under constraint, and accountability where appropriate. The principles of Love and Truth don't erase either, with the opposite being true.

Regarding A., even if a spiritual emergence and archetypal activation were involved that does not absolve the parties involved of responsibility. Agency was exercised in his decision to offload the emotional and relational labour, leaving me to hold an existential, ambiguous shared reality, its meaning and consequences alone. He withdrew from a relational reality he helped create, failed to hold himself accountable, and refused responsibility for his participation in the relational field.

Reality is a relational field by its nature. Abandoning responsibility for the relational space is therefore a form of reality denial. Within the dynamic between me, him and those surrounding him I reached out to, gender stereotypes were also likely involved where I was positioned as the irrational, obsessed, unstable woman, while my direct spiritual experience was reduced to magical thinking. This occurred without any genuine engagement with my account, without dialogue and without being recognised as a human whose presence was worthy of acknowledgement. The length of time this spanned registered as existential erasure in my body. My suffering was a failure to uphold the principle of psychological integrity in the aftermath of our experience - a failure rooted in silence, ambiguity and the refusal for repair. While I assume the silence was framed as compassionate boundary, a healthy boundary must protect the dignity of everyone involved, not merely the comfort of the party who enforces it.

Regarding consciousness, based on my observations it seems to me that consciousness is a continuous recording medium that registers everything as relational patterning - less a linear archive and more a living hologram. What it retains is not the external world in detail, but the total relational configuration of each moment: the felt geometry of perception, attention, and meaning. Every instant is recorded as a complete field of relationship, weighted by what awareness deems significant.

For example, as I write, awareness holds a vague image of my hands on the keyboard, the screen before me, a sense of the purpose of my action, and a diffuse sense of the room around me - even a passing awareness of the bathroom's layout if I think of taking a bathroom break. Should a loud bang occur outside, the field would instantly reconfigure: awareness would expand to include the direction of the sound, the imagined distance, my relation against the street, and perhaps even a flash of the building's colour. All of these perceptual and affective impressions are registered as one integrated pattern - a living record of how consciousness relates to itself through experience.

I spent a long time analysing the dynamic between cognition and affect, and based on my observations affect seemed to be the first registration of coherence in my consciousness. This is supported by several mainstream and widely taught lines of work in psychology and neuroscience (Lisa Barret, Antonio Damasio). It can be observed in child development when affect comes before language, as it can be observed throughout human evolution when early humans oriented entirely based on affect before conceptual thought and language evolved.

In my experience, affect seems to hold the undifferentiated structure of the entire relational context in condensed form. Cognition then differentiates that registration into explicit structure. The more loyal this cognitive structure is to the full pattern carried in affect, including the relational data between inner and outer conditions, the more coherent and stable the structure, and ability for successful experiential and reality navigation. In this sense, I think affective memory functions as undifferentiated structure, while cognitive memory is the synthesis we build on top of it. Integration is the ongoing process that keeps these two in correspondence, allowing cognition to be revised whenever affect signals that the story we tell doesn't match what was actually registered.

In practice, I was often able to retrieve detailed structures by connecting to the feelings and perceptions around a memory. It was never an instant recovery, but a back and forth between thinking about the event and allowing myself to immerse in its affective tone. Each moment of affect seemed to act like a coordinate in the field, marking a specific configuration of thought, emotion, and environment. To me, remembering was not retrieving information from storage, but re-aligning awareness with those affective coordinates, re-entering the configuration of consciousness as it once was. When my awareness returned to the feeling at the core of a recorded moment, it moved through a recursive process where the depth of re-alignment determined how much of the original field became perceptible. Shallow re-immersion evoked only traces – a tone, an image, a mood – whereas sustained engagement helped me to gradually reconstruct the full experiential geometry as it was first lived. I think that if the cognitive structure built on top of that affect is not faithful to what was registered, the affective imprint does not dissolve; it remains as unresolved tension, pressing toward a more coherent differentiation that finally matches the original registration.

For the dream I had at 17 for example. Initially I had an overview of it, and by immersing myself in the memories I did have, and the feelings they evoked, triggered more details to gradually open. The memory of recounting my dream to my colleague at school the next day started from the memory of the dream lingering and haunting me at the time. This was more stable in my memory due to the fact that it was unusual for my dreams to have that haunting quality. The moment of coming home from school and the need to do something about the dream was also more stable, but initially I remembered nothing between my dream and my return from school, except for a sensation I associated with the color yellow. I also had the vague sensation that maybe I recounted the dream to someone, yet nothing else but vagueness. I didn't understand at first. I wasn't too concerned with it, as I felt it had little relevance. Then I remembered that the colleague I was sharing my desk with would often wear a yellowish mustard color blouse. Then the thought of recounting her the dream hoping for some insight came as well. I also remembered the feeling of embarrassment around recounting the dream, and that my colleague was passionate about psychology. It was a constant string of re-connecting and allowing myself to experience the feelings and sensations associated with what had remained stable in my memory. The most stable parts in my memory initially were also the most emotionally intense ones, like the S.A. accusation, and the contrast between going back and forth between A. being the other half of my soul, or the Devil.

It seems to me that during experience, consciousness does not register only what is noticed, but also the cognitive, and emotional topology beneath perception - the subtle currents of anticipation, resistance, or ease that shape each moment. The deeper the emotional participation, the denser the recording; the more fully I was engaged in feeling, the more complex the imprint. Later, this depth of emotional coherence determined the fidelity of recall. What returned was not a fixed image of the past but a living reconstruction, animated by the same relational logic that first gave the moment form.

I do not regret the countless emails, or engaging in actions that society would likely judge me for. The level of coherence I re-established is a consequence of allowing myself to disrupt internalized embarrassment and shame over societal conventions that are disproportionately placed onto women, especially women with complex experiences that fall outside of what is approved as 'normal' or 'acceptable'.