By Peter Russell From Noetic Sciences Review #50, pp. 8-13,44-47
I think it's an interesting read. Collin Powell ... not so much.
For variety's sake, something different from the regular vapid, mundane stuff. I'll update from time to time.
Kicking 2010 up another notch!
“Thinking is more interesting than knowing, but less interesting than looking” - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
“Discussion is an exchange of knowledge; an argument an exchange of ignorance.” - Robert Quillen
“Knowledge is a process of piling up facts; wisdom lies in their simplification.” - Martin H. Fischer
----------------------------------------------
Never did I imagine that spirituality would be so important in my life. Throughout my childhood and student years I always thought I would end up as a scientist. I loved science. I loved discovering how the world works. The more I discovered, the more fascinated I became. At sixteen I was devouring Einstein and marveling at the paradoxical world of quantum physics. I delved into different theories of how the universe began, and pondered the mysteries of space and time. I had a passion for knowing, an insatiable curiosity about the laws and principles that governed the world. I was not, however, a materialist, believing that everything could be explained by the physical sciences.
By my mid-teens I had developed an interest in the untapped potentials of the human mind. Stories of yogis being buried alive for days, or lying on beds of nails, intrigued me. I dabbled in so-called out-of-body experiences and experimented with the altered states of consciousness produced by hyperventilating or entraining the brain's alpha rhythms with pulsating lights. I developed my own techniques of meditation, though I did not recognize them as such at the time.
Nevertheless, my overriding interest was still in the physical sciences, and, above all, mathematics. Thus, when it came to choosing which subject I was to study at university, the choice was obvious. And when it came to deciding which university I should apply to, the choice was again clear: Cambridge. It was, and probably remains, the best British university for studying mathematics.
The Turning Point
In my third year, I was exactly where I thought I would want to be. Stephen Hawking was my supervisor. Although he had fallen prey to the motor-neuron disorder known as Lou Gehrig's disease several years earlier, the illness had not yet taken its full toll. He could walk with the aid of a cane and speak well enough to be understood.
Sitting with him in his study, I found half my attention would be on whatever he was explaining to me (such as the solution of a particularly difficult set of differential equations), while my eye would be caught by the hundreds of sheets of paper strewn across his desk, on which were scrawled, in very large handwriting, equations that I could hardly begin to fathom. Only later did I realize these papers were probably part of his seminal work on black holes...
So there I was, studying with the best of minds in the best of universities, yet something else was stirring deep inside me.
My studies in mathematics and quantum physics explained how the entire material universe could have evolved from the simplest of the elements-hydrogen. Yet the most fascinating question for me had now become: How had hydrogen-a single electron orbiting a single proton-evolved into a system that could be aware of itself? How had the universe become conscious? It was becoming clear that however hard I studied the physical sciences, they were never going to answer this deeper, more fundamental, question.
I felt a growing sense of frustration, manifesting at times as depression. I found myself reading more about mind and consciousness, and less able to focus on my mathematical assignments.
The Best of Both Worlds
My tutor must have sensed I was not at ease in myself and approached me one day to ask how I was doing. I shared with him as best I could my confusion and misgivings about my chosen path. His response surprised me: "Either complete your degree in mathematics [I was in my final year] or take the rest of the year off and use it to decide what you really want to study." Then, knowing how hard it would be for me to make such a choice without a deadline, he added, "I want your decision by noon on Saturday."
Saturday, five minutes before noon, I was still torn between my two options, struggling with feelings of failure, and a sense of wasted time. In the end, I surrendered to an inner knowing that I would not be fulfilled continuing with mathematics, and that I really wanted to take the rest of the year off. By late afternoon I had packed, said a temporary farewell to my friends, and was on my way, with only uncertainty ahead.
During the next six months I produced light shows, worked in a jam factory at night, and from time to time pondered my future career.
After exploring various options I returned to Cambridge to study experimental psychology; it seemed the closest academic approach to understanding consciousness. Whereas clinical psychology involves treating those who are mentally ill at ease, experimental psychology is concerned with the functioning of the normal human brain. It includes the study of the physiological process of perception and how the brain builds up a picture of the world. It encompasses learning and memory, the brain's control of the body, and the biochemistry of neuronal interactions. Understanding the brain seemed a start in the right direction.
So I found myself able to continue pursuing my interests in mathematics and physics, while at the same time embarking on my exploration of the inner world of consciousness.
Today, after thirty years of investigation into the nature of consciousness, I have come to appreciate just how big a problem the subject is for contemporary science. We all know, beyond any doubt, that we are conscious beings. It is the most intimate and obvious fact of our existence. Indeed, all we ever directly know are the thoughts, images, and feelings arising in consciousness. Yet as far as Western science is concerned, there is nothing more difficult to explain.
Peter Russell is a fellow of the Institute of Noetic Sciences, studied mathematics and theoretical physics at The University of Cambridge - supervised for a while by Stephen Hawking. As he became increasingly fascinated by the mysteries of the human mind he switched to experimental psychology ... pursuing this interest, he traveled to India to study meditation and eastern philosophy, and on his return to the UK took up the first research post ever offered in Britain on the psychology of meditation.
If you wana know more here's his website: http://www.peterussell.com/ or you can contact him directly like I did. Pretty cool guy.
I think it's an interesting read. Collin Powell ... not so much.
For variety's sake, something different from the regular vapid, mundane stuff. I'll update from time to time.
Kicking 2010 up another notch!

“Thinking is more interesting than knowing, but less interesting than looking” - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
“Discussion is an exchange of knowledge; an argument an exchange of ignorance.” - Robert Quillen
“Knowledge is a process of piling up facts; wisdom lies in their simplification.” - Martin H. Fischer
----------------------------------------------
Never did I imagine that spirituality would be so important in my life. Throughout my childhood and student years I always thought I would end up as a scientist. I loved science. I loved discovering how the world works. The more I discovered, the more fascinated I became. At sixteen I was devouring Einstein and marveling at the paradoxical world of quantum physics. I delved into different theories of how the universe began, and pondered the mysteries of space and time. I had a passion for knowing, an insatiable curiosity about the laws and principles that governed the world. I was not, however, a materialist, believing that everything could be explained by the physical sciences.
By my mid-teens I had developed an interest in the untapped potentials of the human mind. Stories of yogis being buried alive for days, or lying on beds of nails, intrigued me. I dabbled in so-called out-of-body experiences and experimented with the altered states of consciousness produced by hyperventilating or entraining the brain's alpha rhythms with pulsating lights. I developed my own techniques of meditation, though I did not recognize them as such at the time.
Nevertheless, my overriding interest was still in the physical sciences, and, above all, mathematics. Thus, when it came to choosing which subject I was to study at university, the choice was obvious. And when it came to deciding which university I should apply to, the choice was again clear: Cambridge. It was, and probably remains, the best British university for studying mathematics.
The Turning Point
In my third year, I was exactly where I thought I would want to be. Stephen Hawking was my supervisor. Although he had fallen prey to the motor-neuron disorder known as Lou Gehrig's disease several years earlier, the illness had not yet taken its full toll. He could walk with the aid of a cane and speak well enough to be understood.
Sitting with him in his study, I found half my attention would be on whatever he was explaining to me (such as the solution of a particularly difficult set of differential equations), while my eye would be caught by the hundreds of sheets of paper strewn across his desk, on which were scrawled, in very large handwriting, equations that I could hardly begin to fathom. Only later did I realize these papers were probably part of his seminal work on black holes...
So there I was, studying with the best of minds in the best of universities, yet something else was stirring deep inside me.
My studies in mathematics and quantum physics explained how the entire material universe could have evolved from the simplest of the elements-hydrogen. Yet the most fascinating question for me had now become: How had hydrogen-a single electron orbiting a single proton-evolved into a system that could be aware of itself? How had the universe become conscious? It was becoming clear that however hard I studied the physical sciences, they were never going to answer this deeper, more fundamental, question.
I felt a growing sense of frustration, manifesting at times as depression. I found myself reading more about mind and consciousness, and less able to focus on my mathematical assignments.
The Best of Both Worlds
My tutor must have sensed I was not at ease in myself and approached me one day to ask how I was doing. I shared with him as best I could my confusion and misgivings about my chosen path. His response surprised me: "Either complete your degree in mathematics [I was in my final year] or take the rest of the year off and use it to decide what you really want to study." Then, knowing how hard it would be for me to make such a choice without a deadline, he added, "I want your decision by noon on Saturday."
Saturday, five minutes before noon, I was still torn between my two options, struggling with feelings of failure, and a sense of wasted time. In the end, I surrendered to an inner knowing that I would not be fulfilled continuing with mathematics, and that I really wanted to take the rest of the year off. By late afternoon I had packed, said a temporary farewell to my friends, and was on my way, with only uncertainty ahead.
During the next six months I produced light shows, worked in a jam factory at night, and from time to time pondered my future career.
After exploring various options I returned to Cambridge to study experimental psychology; it seemed the closest academic approach to understanding consciousness. Whereas clinical psychology involves treating those who are mentally ill at ease, experimental psychology is concerned with the functioning of the normal human brain. It includes the study of the physiological process of perception and how the brain builds up a picture of the world. It encompasses learning and memory, the brain's control of the body, and the biochemistry of neuronal interactions. Understanding the brain seemed a start in the right direction.
So I found myself able to continue pursuing my interests in mathematics and physics, while at the same time embarking on my exploration of the inner world of consciousness.
Today, after thirty years of investigation into the nature of consciousness, I have come to appreciate just how big a problem the subject is for contemporary science. We all know, beyond any doubt, that we are conscious beings. It is the most intimate and obvious fact of our existence. Indeed, all we ever directly know are the thoughts, images, and feelings arising in consciousness. Yet as far as Western science is concerned, there is nothing more difficult to explain.
Peter Russell is a fellow of the Institute of Noetic Sciences, studied mathematics and theoretical physics at The University of Cambridge - supervised for a while by Stephen Hawking. As he became increasingly fascinated by the mysteries of the human mind he switched to experimental psychology ... pursuing this interest, he traveled to India to study meditation and eastern philosophy, and on his return to the UK took up the first research post ever offered in Britain on the psychology of meditation.
If you wana know more here's his website: http://www.peterussell.com/ or you can contact him directly like I did. Pretty cool guy.
Last edited: