Quote from: Metroland on May 18, 2012, 05:34:56 PM
Sephira thanks for sharing this analogy. It seems really interesting. However I was wondering what if the building itself has a character of its own, a gender? Not every building is similar to the other so what if starting by the building the architecture means something to everyone?
Sorry for not replying to this sooner.
That's an interesting idea. I have to confess to not having given it a massive amount of thought since often I tend to see my body as little more than a home for my consciousness, or sentience (literally a building, I guess) rather than something influential in and of itself.
Hmm, I suppose it all depends on the individual and the significance each one assigns to the various parts of themselves. For example, by nature I am very introspective. I spend large amounts of time in meditative states which are free from bodily sensations and even awareness. During these times I get in touch with, what I consider to be, the essence of myself. The... part of me which makes me me, as opposed to a walking cadaver, as it were.
In those times, I have a mental self-image of myself, especially when interacting with visualised representations of the various aspects of my psyche, or emotions etc. A frame of reference for interaction, I guess you could say. This is quite seperate and different to the way my body looks, although not entirely. It's hard to describe, it's like I'm my own sister. There are aspects I recognise which perhaps come from the way my body is physically, and years of having to live in it, but it's as though... hmm... it's as though, at some point in the past, something happened which caused my body to develop physically male and my mental and/or spiritual 'everything else' to develop female. I don't know if that was in the womb, before, or after.
The thing about this self-representation is that it requires no conscious thought to experience. It just
is. I have, at times, attempted to 'be' the way my body looks on the outside. That is to consciously recreate that image of myself in my mind. And it takes a quite extraordinary effort to do so, because it just doesn't 'stick'. There's no familiarity there whatsoever. And unless I keep up a certain amount of concentration, it ends up reverting back, like a coiled spring re-coiling back to its original shape. It's forced, and often that ends the whole experience.
As far as I can tell, this only applies to the way I see and experience the bodily sensations of this self-image within my mind. I've tried to ponder if it has any sentience of its own, sort of like a Russian doll type thing, but that just makes my head hurt. So the conclusion I've come to is that it's little more than a blueprint for the way my body is supposed to be. According to who, or what, I don't know. The Architect, whoever or whatever that is (I've just realised that's a Matrix reference. Ugh). But it just
is whether I want it to be or not.
...
I'm sorry, that's not really answering your question.
I guess that everyone's building does have a character of its own. Although personally I wouldn't call that gender. Perhaps self-expression within the limits of anatomical boundaries is the way I would put it... although I tend to think of it more like erosion, to be honest. The constant weathering away and subtle reshaping of the exterior by physiological, sociological even psychological processes into something the outside world wants it to be.
However, as I said at the start, before all the probably unnecessary waffle... people assign differing significance to different aspects of themselves. And gender seems to be a different concept to everyone. Since I am more of an introvert, I see it as something within myself, seperate from a body that serves only to remind me how different it is to everything else about me. However, for others, perhaps more in touch with, and integrated with their bodies, it means something else. And, as you say, the architecture of the building itself holds more significance in how, and who, a person sees themselves to be.
Or maybe something else entirely for yet other people.
Part of the fascination with us as sentient beings is finding these things out, and seeing how people are different, not just with their buildings but with the way they live in them.