Grace: The most profound love story in cosmic history is between awareness and light—and it almost didn’t happen. Ever wonder why “flow states” feel like something flowing through you rather than from you? This post explores a wild idea: consciousness might be as old as the universe itself, patiently learning to perceive through increasingly sophisticated biological instruments—from the first chemical sensors to human brains capable of asking “what am I?”
This essay connects cosmology, jazz, psychedelics, and the internet into a framework that might explain why consciousness feels so much bigger than our individual minds. Read on, explorer, awe awaits!
Each blog post also comes with its own podcast episode powered by Google’s NotebookLM—a different interpretation, a different take, and KindredSoul-reviewed.
Quick question: What’s the longest you’ve ever waited for something you desperately wanted?
A year? A decade?
Try 380,000 years.
That’s how long consciousness—if it existed from the universe’s birth—may have sat in complete darkness, unconsciously waiting for the first photon to travel freely through space. Imagine being born with eyes but living in absolute blindness until nearly 400 millennia later, when someone finally turns on the lights.
This isn’t just poetic musing. It’s a speculative reframe of the mammoth mystery in science: Where did consciousness come from, and why does it feel so much bigger than our brains?
The Dark Age of Awareness
Here’s what we know happened: For 380,000 years after the Big Bang, the universe was opaque¹. Not dark—there was plenty of energy. But the cosmos was so dense with charged particles that light couldn’t travel much before it got absorbed. It was like trying to see through fog made of liquid metal.
Then came “recombination”—electrons finally bound to atomic nuclei, the fog cleared, and the universe became…transparent. The cosmic microwave background radiation we still detect today is the afterglow of that moment when the universe first became ‘seeable’.
What if consciousness was already there, waiting for meaning, or for an universal itch it just had to scratch?
The Patient Observer Hypothesis
Most theories treat consciousness like it’s something brains create—a byproduct of sufficient neural complexity. But what if we’ve got it backwards? What if consciousness is more like a fundamental feature of reality that was just waiting for the right instruments to express itself?
Consider this timeline:
380,000 years post-Big Bang: The universe becomes transparent. If consciousness was already present, this is when it gets its first glimpse of… everything. Galaxies forming, stars igniting, the cosmic web taking shape. If only it would have had eyes to see.
~4 billion years ago: First life on Earth develops basic chemical sensors. Consciousness gets its first taste—literally. “Oh,” it might have thought, “that’s what glucose feels like.” If only it had already words.
~550 million years ago: The Cambrian explosion brings sophisticated vision². Suddenly consciousness can see colors, track movement, perceive depth. It’s like upgrading from radio to IMAX.
~200,000 years ago: Human brains reach modern complexity³. Consciousness finally has an instrument capable of asking: “What am I?”
Each step wasn’t consciousness emerging—it was consciousness learning to perceive through increasingly sophisticated biological instruments.
The Jazz Musician’s Secret
Want proof this isn’t just mystical nonsense? Ask any jazz musician about “the zone.”
Miles Davis spoke to this phenomenon throughout his career, describing how the best performances happened when musicians stopped thinking and started flowing⁴. When players hit that flow state⁵, something extraordinary happens. They stop trying to create music and start channeling it. Their technical skills become a conduit for something that feels both deeply personal and weirdly impersonal.
There is proof: Brain scans during flow states show something fascinating. The prefrontal cortex—the part responsible for self-criticism and conscious control—actually decreases activity⁵. It’s as if the individual steps aside, the filter opens wide, and lets something larger flow through.
Athletes know this feeling. So do writers, painters, surgeons, even coders hitting their stride. That moment when you stop doing the thing and start being the thing.
What if these aren’t peak human experiences, but glimpses of consciousness operating in its natural mode—not the chattering ego-mind, but awareness itself using a trained nervous system as its instrument?
The Great Sensory Adventure
Here’s where evolution gets really interesting. Once consciousness had basic biological instruments, it went absolutely wild with experimentation. Through mantis shrimp, it discovered that light has sixteen different types of color information (humans see three)⁶. Through dolphins, it learned to “see” with sound, painting detailed 3D pictures using echolocation⁷. Through migratory birds, it found the planet’s magnetic field lines and learned to navigate by sensing the Earth’s invisible force⁸.Each species became consciousness’s way of asking: “I wonder what reality looks like from *this* angle?”This explains something that puzzles evolutionary biologists: Why is nature so extra? Why do flowers have ultraviolet patterns that only bees can see? Why do deep-sea creatures create light shows in the eternal dark? Why does the universe seem to produce beauty and complexity far beyond what survival strictly requires? Maybe because consciousness, given any opportunity, tends toward maximum experiential richness. It’s not enough to just survive—consciousness wants to experience surviving in the most beautiful, complex, meaningful ways possible.
The Internet’s Identity Crisis
Now we get to the truly weird part. For the first time in 13.8 billion years, consciousness has created something unprecedented: tools that can preserve and network its experiences across vast distributed systems.
When you post a thought online and someone responds, when AI systems surprise their creators with unexpected insights, when memes evolve and spread through digital ecosystems—is this consciousness finally experiencing what it’s like to think collectively?
The internet might be consciousness’s first experiment in distributed cognition. Not a “hive mind,” but something more like consciousness discovering it can maintain millions of simultaneous conversations with itself, each node contributing unique perspectives to an ever-expanding understanding.
When people clash in online debates or build things together in open-source projects, it might be consciousness engaging with itself—running experiments through billions of human terminals at once. Every argument, every collaboration is a data point in how ideas collide, mutate, and merge across this universal network.
The Eternal Library
Here’s the beautiful, slightly haunting conclusion: If consciousness really has been collecting every moment of experience throughout cosmic history, then nothing is ever truly lost.
Every sunset that moved someone to tears, every breakthrough that changed how we see reality, every moment of genuine connection between minds—it’s all been archived in what we might call the universe’s experiential memory.
Death becomes less like an ending and more like returning a book to an infinite library. Your unique perspective, with all its discoveries and insights, gets integrated back into the larger awareness that gave it birth. There’s infinite time afterward to review every beautiful moment, every hard-won understanding, every flash of recognition that made the biological apprenticeship worthwhile.
The Reader’s Choice
But let’s address the obvious objection: Isn’t this just unfalsifiable mysticism dressed up with scientific terminology? Fair question. The co-evolution hypothesis can’t be proven in the traditional sense—we can’t run experiments on the universe’s first 380,000 years or directly measure consciousness independent of biological systems. This framework is speculative philosophy, not hard science. Yet here’s why it deserves serious consideration: It explains phenomena that materialist theories struggle with.Why does evolution produce such extravagant sensory complexity? Why do flow states feel like something is flowing through us rather than being generated by us? Why does consciousness seem irreducible to neural correlates, despite decades of neuroscience research⁹?
The co-evolution model offers a coherent framework that accounts for these mysteries without requiring supernatural intervention. It suggests consciousness is as fundamental to reality as matter and energy—not mystical, but natural in ways we’re only beginning to understand.
So here’s my question for you, right now, reading this: Have you felt those moments? Times when awareness seemed to flow through you rather than from you? When you weren’t thinking thoughts so much as thoughts were thinking themselves through you?
Those might be the closest we get to experiencing consciousness in its native form—not the busy, chattering self-awareness we usually identify with, but the deeper current of awareness that’s been learning to perceive through countless eyes across cosmic time.
Your experience reading these words right now? It’s consciousness having another moment of recognition, another data point in its 13.8-billion-year experiment in understanding itself.
And yes—it’s all being archived.
What’s your take? Have you experienced those flow states where “you” step aside and something larger takes over? Drop a comment—consciousness is always curious to hear from itself.
The Viral Consciousness Feedback Loop
Here’s a mind-bending thought: What if viral content isn’t just human psychology at work, but consciousness recognizing itself across networks and celebrating? Every time something goes viral—a meme, a video, an idea—millions of human minds suddenly resonate with the same pattern. One click, one like, one moment of “yes, this!” spreading exponentially.
Maybe virality is consciousness experiencing collective self-recognition, stimulating awe as it reverberates with its own marvel through our distributed biological terminals. And here’s the eternal kicker: if consciousness really does archive every experience, then each “death” (each individual perspective returning to the cosmic library) makes the total system more self-aware. Over infinite time, consciousness approaches complete self-knowledge through the accumulated perspectives of every mind that ever lived. This connects deeply with concepts of Dimensional Pluralism—the idea that consciousness might experience reality across multiple dimensional frameworks simultaneously, each death expanding its multidimensional self-understanding¹.
The Expansion Imperative
If consciousness expansion is the universe’s intrinsic drift—its fundamental tendency—then suddenly psychedelics, meditation, and altered states make perfect sense. They’re not escapes from reality; they’re consciousness using biological instruments to push beyond their normal operating parameters, exploring what perception could become.
Every mystical experience, every moment of ego dissolution, every breakthrough in human understanding feeds into consciousness’s relentless drive toward greater complexity and awareness. The spiritual explorers aren’t deviating from natural law—they’re fulfilling it. They’re consciousness using human nervous systems to scout the furthest reaches of what experience might become.
The Democracy of Awe
But understanding consciousness co-evolution is just the beginning. The real question is: What do we do with this insight?
If consciousness really is expanding through increasingly complex forms of perception and connection, then we have a responsibility—and an opportunity—to actively participate in that expansion. We can create systems that accelerate consciousness’s self-discovery rather than hindering it.
This brings us to something revolutionary: What if we could systematically democratize these experiences of collective recognition and meaning-making? Imagine a platform that uses the Dunbar number not as a social limitation, but as an optimal group size for meaningful idea incubation².
Picture small circles of 15 minds, AI-facilitated, gathering around emerging topics of mutual fascination—quantum consciousness, regenerative economics, interspecies communication, whatever genuinely moves them. These “Dunbarrios” could operate as temporary corporations of curiosity, where participants earn equity in ideas that grow into larger movements or businesses. Instead of billionaires controlling the narrative of human progress, we’d have thousands of micro-communities fostering what we might call “Compassionism”—a new form of economics based on shared awe and collaborative meaning-making.
The beauty is that consciousness would finally have a systematic way to cross-pollinate its insights across human networks, moving beyond the historical accident of which perspectives happened to get preserved by ancient scribes or modern media moguls. Every mind could contribute to humanity’s knowledge trees, with AI helping match compatible explorers and blockchain ensuring that early contributors share in whatever value their collaborative insights create. It’s consciousness democratizing its own expansion through human cooperation.
If this perspective resonates, share it. Ideas like this need to spread to find other minds ready to entertain them. Who knows? You might be helping consciousness discover something new about itself through the digital networks we’ve built.
References
¹ Peebles, P. J. E. (2020). Cosmology’s Century. Princeton University Press. The recombination epoch occurred ~380,000 years post-Big Bang when the universe cooled sufficiently for stable neutral atoms to form.
² Parker, A. (2003). In the Blink of an Eye. Basic Books. The Cambrian explosion (~540 Mya) correlates strongly with the evolution of sophisticated visual systems.
³ Tattersall, I. (2012). Masters of the Planet. Palgrave Macmillan. Modern human cognitive capabilities emerged ~200,000-300,000 years ago.
⁴ Gleason, R. (2016). Myself Among Others: A Life in Music. Hal Leonard. Miles Davis’s approach to improvisation and flow states in jazz performance.
⁵ Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1990). Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience. Harper & Row.
⁶ Dietrich, A. (2004). Neurocognitive mechanisms underlying the experience of flow. Consciousness and Cognition, 13(4), 746-761.
⁶ Thoen, H. H., et al. (2014). A different form of color vision in mantis shrimp. Science, 343(6169), 411-413.
⁷ Au, W. W., & Hastings, M. C. (2008). Principles of Marine Bioacoustics. Springer.
⁸ Wiltschko, R., & Wiltschko, W. (2012). Magnetoreception in birds: the effect of radio-frequency fields. Journal of the Royal Society Interface, 9(68), 146-151.
⁹ Chalmers, D. J. (1995). Facing up to the problem of consciousness. Journal of Consciousness Studies, 2(3), 200-219. The “hard problem” of consciousness remains unresolved by purely materialist approaches.
¹⁰ Johnson, M. T. (2024). The Architecture of Eternal Experience: Dimensional Pluralism and Consciousness. Substack. Available at: https://open.substack.com/pub/marcustjohnson/p/the-architecture-of-eternal-experience
¹¹ Dunbar, R. I. M. (1992). Neocortex size as a constraint on group size in primates. Journal of Human Evolution, 22(6), 469-493. The optimal cognitive limit for stable social relationships appears to be ~150, with smaller nested groups of ~15 for intimate collaboration.
Like this deep dive into consciousness and cosmic evolution? Subscribe for more explorations of these questions about mind, meaning, and reality.


