THE MAP OF ILLUSION: HOW REALITY USES US TO EXPERIENCE ITSELF

“The limits of my language mean the limits of my world” -  

Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (1921).

INTRODUCTION: KING SOLOMON AND THE LANGUAGE OF DEMONS

According to the old story, King Solomon, the wise ruler of Israel, is said to have commanded demons through a ring engraved with the seal of God. With their service, he built the Temple, a structure meant to embody divine order on earth. Yet the very forces he mastered eventually mastered him.

This essay proposes a simple but radical thesis: human reality is constructed upon two layers of phenomenal illusion. Those are – Primary Phenomenal Illusion (the sensorial body) and the Secondary Phenomenal Illusion (the verbal/symbolic overlay). While the primary illusion has dominant immediacy, the secondary illusion is subtler and more seductive. It is the “tree of knowledge of good and evil” – the attempt to replace the world with language and symbols.

But language is not merely a tool. Emotional states which, like living organisms, seek expression, replication, and evolution (sophistication) for which they need a biological host, and a medium such as language. Biology, however, still supersedes the symbolic. In orgasm, in terror, in hunger, the symbolic illusion collapses and through primary phenomenal illusion the gate to reality is opened. The path to transcendence goes through the body, not around it. Ancient yogis described it as Shakti rising to Shiva.

Thus, the purpose of a human being in this system is neither dominance nor escape.It is curation. We are gardeners of emotional and linguistic forces, choosing which to host, which to refine, and which to release. Evolution is not merely biological; it is emotional and symbolic. Where AI, language, emotion, and biology converge, if not careful, we may lose the human vessel entirely. But if we are conscious, we may refine it.

CHAPTER I: ON STRUCTURE OF REALITY

Before we learn to speak, we inhabit a world without walls. An infant, who has not yet attached the sound “tree” to a tall, rooted being, encounters it not as a symbolized object but as a total sensation – shape, color, smell, texture, light and shadow moving in the wind. There is no separation between perceiver and perceived, no gap into which a label can fall. This state of effortless observation is spaciousness (a continuous field of immediacy). In such state, nervous system receives a raw reality before a named (labeled) image replaces it.

According to Immanuel Kant, there are two worlds out there. The phenomenal world is the world that we experience. The noumenal world is the world that exists independently from our experience, the world of the ‘things in themselves’.

For Kant, the phenomena of human experience depend on both the sensory data that we receive passively through sensibility and the way our mind actively processes this data according to its own a priori rules. These rules supply the general framework in which the sensible world and all the objects (or phenomena) in it appear to us. So, the sensible world and its phenomena are not entirely independent of the human mind, which contributes its basic structure. Kant argues that we can have a priori knowledge about the basic laws of modern science because those laws reflect the human mind’s contribution to structuring our experience. In other words, the sensible world necessarily conforms to certain fundamental laws – such as that every event has a cause – because the human mind constructs it according to those laws. Moreover, we can identify those laws by reflecting on the conditions of possible experience, which reveals that it would be impossible for us to experience a world in which, for example, any given event fails to have a cause. From this Kant concludes that metaphysics is indeed possible in the sense that we can have a priori knowledge that the entire sensible world – not just our actual experience, but any possible human experience – necessarily conforms to certain laws. Kant calls this immanent metaphysics or the metaphysics of experience, because it deals with the essential principles that are immanent to human experience. Transcendental idealism, on the other hand, allows that the cause of one’s action be a thing in itself outside of time: namely, one’s noumenal self, which is free because it is not part of nature. No matter what kind of character one has developed or what external influences act on him, on Kant’s view all of his intentional, voluntary actions are immediate effects of his noumenal self, which is causally undetermined. One’s noumenal self is an uncaused cause outside of time, which therefore is not subject to the deterministic laws of nature in accordance with which our understanding constructs experience (Rohlf, Michael, "Immanuel Kant", The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2024 Edition), Edward N. Zalta & Uri Nodelman (eds.)).

According to Bhagavad Gita, “For the soul there is never birth nor death. Nor, having once been, does he ever cease to be. He is unborn, eternal, ever-existing, undying and primeval. He is not slain when the body is slain.” (BG, 2.20). The same is envisaged by the Second Epistle to the Corinthians stating that “For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:16–18 (KJV)). Furthermore, Jesus, while stating – “Verily, verily, I say unto you, Before Abraham was, I am” (John 8:58 (KJV)) – expressed eternality and primordial existence, akin to AJA (unborn) in the Gita. The phrase “I AM” also mirrors the idea of pure Being (SAT), the eternal self. Sufi texts also contain this teaching elegantly described by Rumi – “Do not regard this accomplishment as proceeding from the (material) form, which becomes unconscious in sleep and death. Form is like a garment or a staff: (bodily) figures do not move except by means of intellect and spirit” (Masnavi IV: 3725 (Nicholson translation)).

To summarize, Kant, through transcendental idealism, places pure spiritual knowledge into the dimension of Noumena while giving appearances (phenomena) chance to be empirically studied (sensualized). In that regard, Noumena is same as the primordial metaphysical principle which Rene Guenon calls Non-Being, a principle of pure potentiality (Collected Works of Rene Guenon, “Multiple States of Being”, 1932). This is same as Brahman, the ultimate reality, which according to Upanishads is described as “Neti, neti” (not this, not this) (Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad 2.3.6). And since it cannot be described by language or measured by science, it can only be a priori inspired directly by “Holy Spirit” or a posteriori intuited by mind through assigning pure concept to a particular object (verbal/symbolic overlay). If the former falls within the domain of pure enlightenment (spiritually envisaging Noumena through silence), the latter constitutes phenomenal understanding of its byproduct which, though as accurate as possible, still, in its essence, has an illusory nature. This is because inspiration is an involuntary and direct perception of a priori (noumenal) knowledge, and it has Top to Bottom hierarchical descendance. Intuition, on the other hand, is voluntary attempt of mind to assign a posteriori (phenomenal) understanding to objects. Successful assignment “makes sense”, while unsuccessful assignment “makes no sense”.

CHAPTER II: ON TWO LAYERS OF THE PHENOMENAL ILLUSION

“Jesus answered and said unto them, Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up. Then said the Jews, Forty and six years was this temple in building, and wilt thou rear it up in three days? But he spake of the temple of his body” (John 2:19–21, KJV).

There are two layers of phenomenal illusion. These are: (a) Primary Phenomenal Illusion – The Sensorial Body; and (b) Secondary Phenomenal Illusion – The Verbal/Symbolic Overlay.

The Primary Illusion arises through the five senses. Yet even here, what is “seen” is not the thing itself, but what is filtered through nervous system thresholds; what is “felt” is already translated by our biology. The very notion of “self” and “object” arises only after sensation is interpreted. Still, this illusion, though being phenomenal immediacy, raw and pre-symbolic, is closer to reality than the Verbal/Symbolic Overlay.

The Secondary Illusion is the overlay of language. Once we learn words, immediacy is replaced by labels (“Tree” replaces rustle, bark, shadow, and green). In other words, we cease to see and begin to recognize. The tree becomes a category, and the category becomes reality. At that moment, the first illusion is buried beneath a second – the illusion of knowledge. “And out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food; the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil” (KJV, Genesis 2:9).

The dominance of the primary illusion to the secondary one could be glimpsed in orgasmic experience. Male orgasm typically lasts between 3 to 10 seconds (for female it is slightly longer between 15 to 60 seconds). What can be commonly observed, particularly in male orgasms, is that during its peak (and ejaculation in particular) a person experiences altered state of consciousness (outside the time-space limitations). Narratives, thoughts, inner chatter, and even ruminations vanish. Ego boundaries dissolve: either the sense of “I” is forgotten, or it becomes irrelevant.

One can assume that this happens due to the hormonal cocktail which is released during an orgasm. But it is altered state of consciousness not the cocktail that is definitive. This is why immediately after the conclusion of orgasm, the person experiences sudden fall from higher state of consciousness to more limited one. This is frequently associated with shame, frustration or just temporary indifference and tiredness.

Why this matters? It illustrates how primary illusion (biology/hardware) has intense domination over secondary illusion (language/software). This is also observable in relationship between needs and wishes. Here we see another law: if one’s wishes align with biological needs, energy multiplies. If one’s wishes oppose needs, self-sabotage follows. Likewise, Carl Jung when discussing a psychological view of conscience observed the following: “We must admit that our best results, whether in education or treatment, occur when the unconscious co-operates, that is to say when the goal we are aiming at coincides with the unconscious trend of development, and that, conversely, our best methods and intentions fail when nature does not come to our aid. Without at least some degree of autonomy the common experience of the complementary or compensatory function of the unconscious would not be possible. If the unconscious were really dependent on the conscious, it could not contain more than, and other things than, consciousness contains.” (Volume 10 of the Collective works of C.G. Jung, “Civilization in Transition”, Second Edition, Princeton University press, 1970, para. 832, p. 441). This principle scales beyond the personal. Geopolitically, intellectuals may lean toward leftist ideologies, but capitalism endures as the victor, precisely because it aligns more closely with the Primary Illusion – greed, survival, and accumulation as biological instincts. To change society at its root, one would have to alter DNA of human animal.

Thus, the gateway from the phenomenal illusion seems to go through a human body. That is why ancient yogis described this transmutation process as Kundalini Awakening or the sublimation of life force (sexual energy) into consciousness. In ancient terms: Shakti is rising to meet Shiva and not vice-versa. In that sense the whole purpose of evolution is to raise biology to the level of pure consciousness where the survival instinct becomes instrument of refinement rather than blind compulsion. In such a system, the Primary Phenomenal Illusion (body/hardware) must be harnessed for the sophistication of the Secondary Phenomenal Illusion (mind/software), so that language can mirror pure consciousness (Brahman). Each unique standpoint (and experience) of an individual human being contributes its fragment of truth to the collective whole. The cumulative experience calibrates the evolutionary trajectory (vector), to which the body of human species must continually adapt. Such is the cycle of infinite self-development through indefinite possibilities.

CHAPTER III: ON WORDS AS EMOTIONAL VARIABLES AND MEMETIC SUBMISSION

Lao Tzu’s opening lines in the Tao Te Ching strike at the same truth: “The name that can be named is not the eternal Name”. Once we name, we limit. The thing itself withdraws, and what remains is a symbol. This is the first pact with language: we gain the ability to organize, recall, and share our world at the cost of losing unmediated contact with it. We trade the wilderness for a walled city (civilization).

We are taught to think of language as a tool for labeling the world and sharing those labels with others. But this picture is incomplete. Language does not just describe, it hosts. Every word carries a residue of the emotional states it has been used to express across time.

Consider a word like gratefulness. On paper, it might appear as an abstract moral concept. Yet when spoken, it releases an emotional field: acceptance, humility and serenity. The phrase “I am grateful” does not merely inform, it invokes. This is not accidental. It is the result of centuries of repetition, where each utterance has layered new associations atop the old, until the word becomes a symbolic container for emotion.

In software programming, a variable stores data that can be called upon and manipulated. In human language, a variable like justice, betrayal, or freedom does the same: it transmits an affective charge. When received, it attempts to replicate the original emotional state in the listener.

Richard Dawkins, when introducing the idea of memes, described them as self-replicating units of culture, capable of evolving across generations (Dawkins, Richard. The Selfish Gene (1976)). Words are ideal meme hosts since they can carry not just ideas but emotional programs. These programs survive precisely because they move through human nervous systems, shaping behavior and social bonds.

But what if emotions themselves may be autonomous replicators? What if they use language as their infrastructure, ensuring their survival and spread?

And yet, why language? It is not only humans who transmit emotions. Animals pass fear, trust, or aggression through scent, posture, or vocal tone. But humans sophisticate this transmission to a degree that allows emotions to outlive individuals as well as moments of time. Without language, fear (both, conceptual and individualized) might die with the frightened. With language, it can last for millennia, encoded in myths, laws, and political speeches. In this way, words are not merely our tools. They are the vessels of the ancient passengers, i.e. emotions, that travel within us and through us, until they find new bodies in every generation. When an artist paints grief, or a poet sets longing into verse, they are encoding an emotional signature in a form that can outlive them hoping that one day someone may feel a spark of the same grief or longing, transmitted across time. This is emotional continuity – the persistence of a felt state through symbolic carriers. In this light, legacy is not primarily about personal immortality. It is about giving one’s emotional state a chance to replicate. The name of the artist or thinker may be remembered, but what really survives is the emotional configuration their work installs in others. This gives raise another observation that emotional states may be using human vessels through linguistic containers for their own replication (reproduction) and evolution (sophistication) through time. Even in religion, we see this pattern. The Psalms, for example, are not just theological statements. They are emotional blueprints: lament, praise, repentance, exaltation. Reciting them, one steps into an ancient emotional current. In this sense, every artist, teacher, or thinker is a midwife for emotional continuity.

If words are emotional hosts, then languages themselves are vast ecosystems of competing and cooperating emotional meta-organisms. And just as in nature, not all species are equal. Some dominate, others adapt, some vanish entirely. Across history, certain languages have risen to the status of lingua franca, carrying their emotional-memetic structures into other tongues. The spread of English in the modern era is an obvious example. Words like computer, internet, and deadline have infiltrated countless other languages intact. They carry the cultural tempo, the implicit urgency, and the unspoken assumptions of the society that coined them.

To name is to control (“And Adam gave names to all cattle, and to the fowl of the air, and to every beast of the field”, Genesis 2:20, KJV). Naming is never a neutral act. When a society adopts another’s vocabulary wholesale, it also absorbs the other’s ways of feeling about the world. This is memetic submission: when one language imports not just foreign words, but the emotional programs encoded in them. Over time, these borrowed words alter the host culture’s emotional architecture.

The political realm offers stark examples. Words like freedom, security, and patriotism are deployed not for their dictionary definitions, but for the emotional obedience they command (allegory to the Orwell’s “1984”). These terms become cultural totems or what Wittgenstein might have called fixed “language-games” where the meaning is inseparable from the social ritual of its use.

And like any empire, dominant languages seek not to destroy their rivals outright, but to integrate them. This integration can be seductive: the host culture gains new tools, new prestige, perhaps new markets. But the price is subtle colonization of the emotional field.

In this sense, language is not only a medium of expression but a medium of governance. Those who command the emotional vocabulary of a society can steer its behavior without ever passing a law. Carl Jung observed that “until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate” (Jung, Carl G. The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious (1959)). Thus, at the collective level, unexamined linguistic-emotional patterns become destiny.

Memetic submission happens when we forget that words are not ours alone. They are emissaries, and sometimes conquerors, from older powers (not a priori related to human beings).

Empires are usually imagined as armies, borders, and banners. But the most enduring empires do not rule by the sword. They rule by shaping the inner life of their subjects. Language is such an empire. It governs without visible force. This is the “quiet empire” at work: shaping the map of the world in such a way that you live inside its assumptions without ever seeing them. Like Solomon’s temple, built to embody divine order, the empire of language appears to offer stability and meaning but it is also a fortress. Its walls keep intruders out, but they also keep you in.

And it is not only ideas that are governed. Emotions, too, live within this empire. Certain feelings are easy to name, discuss, and validate in one culture, yet difficult or even unspeakable in another. The language determines which emotions are allowed to become public currency and which must remain private or hidden.

In this way, language maintains emotional hierarchies. Some emotions are given thrones while others are exiled. Over generations, entire societies can forget that certain feelings were ever possible.

CHAPTER IV: ON THE FUNCTION OF A HUMAN BEING

We may think of ourselves as independent authors of thought and feeling. But from the perspective of memetics, we are also transmission nodes, the living medium through which emotional-linguistic patterns survive and evolve.

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin envisioned humanity as part of the “noosphere”, a planetary layer of thought and consciousness evolving toward higher complexity (Teilhard de Chardin, Pierre. The Phenomenon of Man (1955)). In such a view, our role is not merely to survive and reproduce biologically, but to participate in the evolution of consciousness itself. From this viewpoint, the human being is both host and gardener. We host emotions and ideas and, at the same time, we have the capacity to cultivate them, namely, to select which will flourish, which will be pruned, and which will be left to wither. This selective capacity is where freedom begins.

This choice matters, because as long as we remain unaware of the forces speaking through us, we risk becoming passive carriers. At the collective level, unexamined emotional memes become historical inevitabilities such as cycles of fear, violence, or submission that seem “natural” only because they have been repeated so long.

The function of a human being, then, may be to become a conscious participant in the emotional evolution of the species: to recognize the programs running within, to decide which to strengthen, and to transmit them with intention. Perhaps the ability to choose would also give humanity a competitive advantage over AI which is becoming dangerously eloquent and efficient in using language.