Logos and Legos, Part 1

One summer a little bird built a nest in a tree right next to our neighbor’s driveway and found it dismaying and aggravating that every time he dropped to the ground for a snack, he discovered another bird like him on the driveway. Of course he had to defend his territory; his nest was right above and this other fellow couldn’t horn in, so he attacked the other bird who attacked him as well and would not leave. No matter what the poor bird did, the other one would do the same thing. The two of them would go at it all afternoon, wings battering, beaks slashing, and feet extended.

I should say the one of them.

Our neighbor had just bought a new car with shiny chrome hubcaps. He would go out nearly every morning, brush off the grime, and shine it to reflective perfection. It wasn’t his actions that amused me, it was this little wren for who the hubcaps were an endless source of frustration. He never understood the bird he battled was only a reflection of himself.

When you look in the mirror what do you see? Most likely what you see is not actually what it reflects back at you. Our concept of ourselves is much more complicated than what the photons striking the back of our eyes convey. On it’s mysterious trip through our mind I am sure a number of things happen to what we see as it becomes bathed in our own self-awareness. The bird, however, sees another identical bird. He has no concept of soul.

To have a soul, in a basic scientific explanation, is to have awareness of oneself, a meta-cognitive process where the individual not only knows that he or she is alive, but is constantly, actively weaving this meta-information into the tapestry of the self. The greeks identified this as Logos, or the fulfillment of the higher needs of the mind Does self, then equal soul? I think this has been the main debate between philosophers: now that we know we are alive, how do we come to terms with that information?

more tomorrow…