Today was a day we had a meeting about autism (We have one at a month). It begins at 10 am so I went to AEON to buy sandwiches I eat as lunch. Going the way, I found I was singing a Japanese rock band Blankey Jet City's song. I didn't have any chances of reminding them... Like that, something I couldn't expect comes here from somewhere. That is already mysterious enough. After buying sandwiches, I borrowed Masamine Watanabe's book "The consciousness of brains, the consciousness of machines" from a library.
From 10 am we started the meeting. Always this meeting gives me power. Today we had an offline meeting because corona panic goes lesser (of course, we did exchange air and also disinfection seriously). The last time we had a "real" meeting was a year ago so this is after one year's passing. I did a presentation once I had at a previous pocky's day. I got severe comments but they are also interesting. Other members said how to tell cleaning rooms and clothes to their children (or let them do freely). It was a great time. Every member thinks about autism seriously...
Returning to my group home, I started reading Georg Northoff's book "Neuro-Philosophy And The Healthy Mind". This book describes the problem of where is my mind (the place I think about things) clearly and easily understood. It seems that my mind is not just inside my brain, but connected to my body and outer world which is called the environment. So if I lost the harmony between myself and the world, we started having schizophrenia. Or this logic tells why my body also goes badly if I lose my mind's health. I thought it was an amazing book.
After that, I was told that the "hard problem" between mind and brain (and the possible answers of "where is my mind") at various groups of an open chat of LINE. But, if I got the mechanism of that problem more, I also had to think about the mystery of "Why I am myself and not the other person" more. This morning, why I sang the Blankey Jet City's song. Even if I might be just a phantom, but... Oh my gosh, the mystery I had thought from my teenage days, the enigma of the black box in myself still can't be solved even now. Therefore it still has the worth to be thought steadily?