Oh no. I Exist.

A stroll along the waterway brought me to know I was along the waterway, talking with my girlfriend about knowing we were talking about knowing we were walking along the waterway. And so on.

As we discussed consciousness, she, completely justified, said “to be conscious” is “to be aware.” Always the obnoxious contrarian (as she thought, and usually she’d be right), I said but no, it’s more than that. Animals are not conscious, I said.

The argument moved forward with her saying of course they are. Of course they are aware of their surroundings. How else would they find food, hunt, procreate, hide from predators? And of course she was right.

What I should have distinguished is consciousness from “human consciousness.” Animals, always aware in a hypothalamic sense, are not confronted with the pure personal horror that is the realization: Holy fuck, I exist.

It’s awareness. But it’s awareness not of surroundings or banal needs like hunger. The consciousness I referenced was awareness that of a very specific problem. One’s self.

Would my wife like to hear my pedantic solution? No. No, I am fully conscious that she would not.