Meme #8 - Dreamtime

After his discussion in Entangled Life on the integrated nature of mycelium, Merlin Sheldrake continues: 

These studies raise a storm of questions. Are network-based life-forms like fungi or slime molds capable of a form of cognition? Can we think of their behavior as intelligent? If other organisms’ intelligence didn’t look like ours, then how might it appear? Would we even notice it? (p.65) 

But how we define intelligence and cognition is a question of taste. For many, the brain-centric view is too limited. The idea that a neat line can be drawn that separates nonhumans from humans with “real minds” and “real comprehension” has been curtly dismissed by the philosopher Daniel Dennett as an “archaic myth.” (p.65) 

Charles Darwin, writing in 1871, took the pragmatic line. “Intelligence is based on how effective a species becomes at doing the things they need to survive.” (p.66) 

Many types of brainless organisms - plants, fungi, and slime molds included - respond to their environments in flexible ways, solve problems, and make decisions between alternative courses of action. Complex information processing is evidently not restricted to the inner workings of brains. (p.66) 

In all these views, intelligent behaviors can arise without brains. A dynamic and responsive network is all that’s needed. (p.66) 

Clearly, fungi possess a type of intelligence. What is unclear - and likely to remain unclear - is whether they also possess a human type of intelligence. Things like 1) Self-Reflection - awareness that they are distinct organisms, contemplating who they are and what they’re doing; 2) Future Orientation - planning for consequences tomorrow by doing certain activities today; and 3) Intentional Variation - choosing to change aspects of themselves to fulfill the need/whim of the moment, “Hmm…I think I’ll dye my mycelium blue today,” rather than solely relying on the slow, ponderous course of genetic variation. To a degree, whether fungi have a form of consciousness that humans can relate to is beside the point and beyond the scope of this essay. They may, and they may not. The simple question for those of us who want to emulate the Way of Fungi is, “Based on what we see, how can we think more like mycelium?” To wrap our heads around this query, we must first answer, “How do we think like humans?”

Let’s keep it simple. In his book Symbols of Transformation, psychiatrist Carl Jung writes that humans have two main types of thinking: Directed and Non-Directed. 

Directed thinking is: 

A thinking that is adapted to reality, by means of which we imitate the successiveness of objectively real things, so that the images inside our minds follow one another in the same strictly causal sequence as the events taking place outside it. It is a process of psychic assimilation that leaves behind the corresponding state of exhaustion, like any other vital achievement. (p.12) 

Writing this essay is an example of directed thinking. It demands concentration, separation from the wider environment, and focus on the “task at hand.” It attempts to stitch ideas together in a causal sequence that makes sense for readers and matches their own experiences of the external world. This is the type of thinking that has allowed the modern mind to craft philosophical and scientific theories that have harnessed the world in our service. It has: 

• Used the power of heat to drive machines 

• Discovered the laws of gravity and motion 

• Devised the Periodic Table of Elements 

• Applied electricity 

• Designed precise navigational tools and methods 

• Discovered the General Theory of Relativity 

• Developed antibiotics 

• Invented computers 

• Created the internet 

• Improved public health 

• Reached beyond the Solar System 

• And…the list goes on and on 

Obviously, there is a time and place for directed thinking, but its history is a cautionary tale that shows how everything needs balance because it is also the type of thinking that drove the Age of Colonization and the extermination of “backward peoples” who did not rely so much upon it. It is the type of thinking that can tie us up in mental knots that lead to depression, anxiety, and despair. It is the type of thinking that has brought us to the brink of ecological disaster and possible extinction. 

Nature demonstrates that without balance, sickness ensues. Jung’s other type of thinking can restore a healthy equilibrium. 

He describes non-directed thinking in this way: 

This type of thinking lacks all leading ideas and the sense of direction emanating from them. We no longer compel out thoughts along a definite track, but let them float, sink or rise according to their specific gravity.” (p.17) “This sort of thinking does not tire us, it leads us away from reality into fantasies of the past or future…Verbal form ceases, image piles on image, feeling on feeling…common speech calls this dreaming. (pp.18-19) 

This description calls to mind Sheldrake’s description of Default Mental Networks (DMNs) that I detailed in Essay #3 - Situational Awareness. There, I quoted Sheldrake who states that DMNs are: 

When we’re not focusing on much, when our minds are wandering idly, when we’re self-reflecting, when we’re thinking of the past or making plans about the future, it’s our DMN that’s active. 

This is a certain kind of non-directed thinking, but Jung was contemplating something more connected to a wider, internal landscape. He was discussing a type of thinking that can be employed by an individual to intentionally bring to light archetypal images and motifs “floating around” in the unconscious. This was a method he practiced during the early part of his career. He called it mythopoetic imagination (I’m going to call it conscious dreaming). He explored his own mind to discover latent archetypes and then later used the formidable power of his directed thinking to hammer them into theories. 

It's a type of thinking that is relaxed, but not unintentional. As Jung pointed out: 

It cannot be done by just lying down on a couch and relaxing, it has to be done by a definite giving over of the libido [psychic energy] in full sum to the unconscious…I trained myself to do this; I gave all my libido to the unconscious in order to make it work, and in this way, I gave the unconscious a chance, the material came to light and I was able to catch it in flagrante. 

To Jung, the unconscious is a definite landscape with recognizable features he called archetypes. Examples include the Hero, the Goddess, the Quest, etc. These are internal “landmarks” we all share, and they help us when we’re lost or at a crossroads and don’t know where to go or what to do. In the best-case scenario, they set the firm ground upon which we walk because archetypes like the Hero or the Goddess prompt certain mindsets and actions that engender confidence and provide guidance when we’re in a tight spot. Jung suggested that it is best to invite these images into our waking lives during good moments - and then integrate their positive aspects into our personalities - rather than have their entire content (the bad along with the good) invade our minds while in crisis. They are part of our heritage and will make themselves known, whether we think they’re needed or not. We can either learn how to assimilate them into our conscious lives in helpful ways or let them knock down the doors to our little castles and tear things up when we’re not paying attention.

I believe it is the use of this type of non-directed thinking (conscious dreaming) that will allow us to emulate the intellectual style of fungi as it confidently branches and homes through its substrate. We need to balance our directed thinking output with a more relaxed, intuitive mode of operating that uses an intimate knowledge of an internal landscape as a map to navigate through all the obstacles and opportunities in our paths. An example from human culture will demonstrate how this is possible. The Aboriginal Peoples of Australia have used a navigation system like this to safely traverse their physical world for countless generations. In their languages, it is called by different names, for instance, Nggaranggarni or Tjukula Jukurrpa. In English, we call it Dreamtime. Every location in their environment is connected to various creation stories and the deeds of heroes of old, and because they have assimilated them since childhood, they are able to travel confidently and successfully through areas that White Europeans call, featureless. They find their way by remembering stories connected to what they are passing through. 

The Encyclopedia of World Geography describes Dreamtime in this way: 

Perhaps the most remarkable adaptation of these desert-dwelling people was their rich, mystical culture, layered with stories and stitched together with faith and insight into the natural world. The Australian aboriginals boast the longest continuous cultural history of any group on Earth. Central to their view of the world is the mysterious and transcendent notion of dreamtime, a belief that explains how the universe came to be, the creation of human beings, and the purpose of creation. This philosophy held that all living things are part of a vast network of relationships connected to the spirits that created the Earth and the dream that contains it. The aboriginals believe that every event leaves a record in the land, so that every place, animal, plant, and person has some connection to those original stories and spirits, which makes everything sacred. Dreamtime existed before the Earth and so brought it into being. Now, dreamtime continues as an echo or shadow of the Earth, which means it remains accessible to a reverent and respectful person. 

In the same way, those of us wanting to emulate the Way of Fungi, can assimilate features of fungi’s “creation story” and copy the “heroic” aspects of its behavior. Merlin Sheldrake’s book, Entangled Life, is a good starting point to discover this mythology and then operate according to its map. This current series of essays is an attempt to connect these lessons to our own internal landscapes - to the mental structures that have been created through the course of our lives and continue to be sculpted today. Topics I’ve covered so far include the memes of 1) Non-binary; 2) Holistic; 3) Situational Awareness; 4) Without Metaphor; 5) Inside Out, Rather Than Outside in: 6) Processes, Not Things; and 7) Integration. An interesting exercise would be to pass these characteristics through the “filter” of an archetype. We can “dream” stories of ourselves as a Hero, or a Goddess, or some other archetypal figure who employs these attributes through the course of a Quest. The product of such an exercise can be written down and studied, or immortalized in an epic poem and memorized, or captured in a watercolor and displayed. Then when life throws an unexpected obstacle or challenge our way, we can relax and follow the map created through these mythological lessons of fungi. Obviously, we’ll still need to rely upon our directed thinking when appropriate, but now we’ll also be able to move forward in ways that lean upon the ancient wisdom of fungi. This will promote good health for ourselves and the environment around us. But as Jung said, we cannot do this by “just lying down on a couch and relaxing.” Rather, we must “give over” our psychic energy and intention to produce such a dream world that can safely guide our movements.