Dialogue 2: The Gateway Opens

The morning mist was still lifting from the monastery’s fields as Synergos found Haplous at their usual spot next to the footpath leading to the wheatfield. The distant rhythm of a hay binder drifted across the lavender beds, a reminder of the day’s agricultural work ahead.

“Good morning,” Synergos said, setting some papers on a flat rock beside him.

Haplous nodded in greeting. “Another clear morning. The fields will dry quickly today.”

The monastery cat appeared from a lavender bed, shaking something off its left forepaw.

“I was thinking about the ideas you explained yesterday,” Synergos began, straightening the papers on his lap – an old administrative habit. “This morning, on the way here, I kept turning them over in my mind. I appreciate how clearly you’ve laid out the framework’s mechanics, but I’m still troubled by something fundamental.” He hesitated. “These entities you describe – neuronal proxies, the proxy transfer device, looping – none of them has been directly observed in neuroscience research, have they?”

Haplous nodded, understanding in his eyes. “An excellent question. And you’re right – they haven’t been directly observed in the way you might be thinking.” He leaned forward slightly. “But scientific validity doesn’t always require direct observation of the precise mechanisms.”

“How so?” Synergos asked, his skepticism clear but his curiosity piqued.

Haplous smiled faintly. “Science has often recognized real things before fully understanding their physical basis. Take Mendel’s laws of inheritance. When Mendel introduced the concept of ‘genes’ in the 19th century, no one had ever seen a gene. There was no microscope powerful enough, no biochemical understanding of DNA – yet his work explained heredity so precisely that genes were accepted as real long before their physical nature was discovered.”

Synergos nodded slowly. “So Mendel proposed something that had to exist because it explained observable patterns so well – even though no one could see it yet?”

“Exactly,” Haplous replied. “And here’s something even more striking – Mendel’s genes were accepted as scientific fact before scientists even knew that chromosomes carried hereditary information. The connection between genes and chromosomes wasn’t confirmed until 1910 – a decade after Mendel’s work was rediscovered and widely accepted. And it wasn’t until half a century later, in 1953, that the structure of DNA was finally uncovered. Yet for all that time, scientists knew genes had to be real, because without them, nothing in heredity made sense.”

Synergos exhaled, absorbing this. “So even before scientists knew where genes were, they had no choice but to accept their existence because of how powerfully they explained heredity.”

Haplous continued evenly. “And consider atoms. The atomic model was already shaping chemistry in the 19th century, helping scientists predict reactions. No one had actually seen an atom, yet rejecting the concept would have meant rejecting all of chemistry.” He opened his palm in a subtle gesture.

The monastery cat paused in its exploration of the lavender bed, watching Haplous’s hand movement with fleeting interest before turning away.

Synergos nodded. “Like how atomic theory directed chemists toward discoveries that eventually confirmed the physical reality of atoms. Even though we can’t map these framework components to specific neural structures yet, you expect that someday neuroscience will be able to identify them?”

“Yes. The framework provides a functional description that’s scientifically valuable right now because of its explanatory power. But as neuroscience advances, I fully expect we’ll discover the physical implementations of these components. The framework can actually guide that research by suggesting what patterns to look for.”

“I see your point,” Synergos said, adjusting his papers. “At this point, the framework doesn’t need to identify specific neural structures to be scientifically valid – it needs to explain observable phenomena in a coherent way, and point to avenues of research.”

“Shall we continue with the implications?” Haplous asked, gesturing toward the fields where several monks had begun their morning work.

“By all means,” Synergos replied, his skepticism giving way to genuine interest.

“I believe the next thing we need to consider is, when we remember what happened a few minutes ago, how does that work?”

“Well, I suppose...” Synergos hesitated, looking uncertain. “The brain must keep some kind of record?”

“Consider something from nature,” Haplous suggested. “How do we know the history of the Earth?”

“Through fossils and geological formations... ah!” Synergos sat forward on the stone. “The processes themselves left traces! There’s no separate record – the evidence is just the natural result of what happened.”

“Rather elegant, isn’t it? Instead of needing some special archive...”

“The current state itself contains the history!” Synergos said. “Are you suggesting that’s how recollection works? That the brain doesn’t store a separate ‘film reel’ of events, but instead reconstructs from what remains?”

“What would be more efficient?”

“Using its own current state as evidence of what just happened?” Synergos spoke slowly, working through the idea. “The brain already maintains an internal model for everything it does. Those same patterns and states could serve as the basis for reconstructing recent events...”

“But there’s something fascinating about this reconstruction,” Haplous continued. “Have you read Thomas Hardy’s ‘Jude the Obscure’?”

“I... no, I haven’t,” Synergos admitted, looking surprised. “I didn’t know your interests extended to English literature.”

Haplous chuckled softly. “Well, there’s one passage I always quote to my history of psychology students. A country girl named Arabella complains about her pigs escaping, saying ‘This comes of driving ‘em home. They always know the way back if you do that. They ought to have been carted over.’”

“And this relates to reconstruction how?”

“Think about what she means,” Haplous smiled. “If the pigs had been carted, their feet wouldn’t have felt the different textures of the paths, their muscles wouldn’t have strained on the uphills or relaxed on the downhills, their ears wouldn’t have heard the sounds along the way...”

“Ah!” Synergos leaned forward. “Their brains were using all their different senses to create a complete picture?”

“Yes! And our brains work the same way. When reconstructing experience, they draw on everything – not just vision and hearing, but balance, body position, temperature, internal sensations, emotions, goals...”

“All working together to support the reconstruction?”

“Exactly. I call it ‘interfunctional complementation’ – how all these different functions complement each other, making the reconstruction more robust.”

“And in normal waking life,” Haplous observed, “this reconstruction works remarkably well, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, when I think back to walking here this morning, I can recall the whole experience – the sound of my footsteps, the morning chill, even my thoughts about the day ahead...”

“Because your brain is reconstructing from rich, coherent traces left by actual experience?”

“And using all these different functions to support each other!” Synergos nodded enthusiastically. “The memory of the cold air matches the memory of pulling my robe tighter, the sound of the bells matches my memory of checking the time...”

“Yes. When reconstructing from traces left by real experience, all these different sources of evidence align naturally.”

“Because they were all part of the same coherent experience!” Synergos paused thoughtfully. “Though I wonder... what would happen if the brain tried to reconstruct experience from traces that weren’t created by coherent experience?”

“You’re glimpsing something quite profound there. And we’ll return to it when the time is right,” Haplous said with a faint smile. “But for now, let’s focus on something more immediate. Let’s talk a little bit more about what happens when the brain at large catches wind of the content in the outgoing channel of the PTD.”

Synergos shifted his weight on the bench, his brow furrowing. “You’ve said looping is a kind of internal reactivation. But isn’t that just a feedback loop? Cybernetics already has that covered.”

Haplous shook his head gently. “No, not quite. A classical feedback loop, in cybernetics, always passes through the environment. The system acts, the world changes, the system senses the result. That’s what completes the loop.”

“Like a thermostat,” Synergos offered, glancing toward the chapel wall.

“Exactly,” Haplous confirmed. “Or like a lion that kills its prey and then senses the change in blood chemistry that signals satiety. The system adjusts based on real-world consequences.”

Synergos looked down, considering. “So looping doesn’t do that?”

“No,” Haplous stated firmly. “Looping doesn’t pass through the world at all. Nothing is spoken, nothing is acted upon. The loop begins and ends within the brain itself.”

Synergos’s fingers tapped once against his papers. “Then what’s looping with what?”

Haplous leaned forward, his gaze direct. “The brain senses what it’s about to express. Not what it did. Not what it received. What it almost said. That incipient expression activates internal proxies – as if it had already been spoken and heard. But it never left the system.”

Synergos blinked. “So it’s not feedback in the usual sense. It’s... self-reflective prediction?”

Haplous raised a hand slightly, making a fine distinction. “Not prediction either, not in the sense of guessing what’s coming. It’s the brain feeling what it’s about to produce. Like catching a sentence in the throat – before it’s uttered.”

“And that act – the catching – is what lights up the proxies?” Synergos asked quietly.

“Yes. That’s the origin of experience. You don’t experience what you see. You experience the proxy that lights up when your brain begins to say something about what you see.”

Synergos looked off across the wheatfield for a moment. “So the loop isn’t informational feedback from the world. It’s feedback from the incipience of your own output.”

“Exactly. And that’s what makes it new. Cybernetics never described this. It focused on control systems – systems that act and adjust. Not systems that catch themselves in the act of expression.”

Synergos turned back slowly. “So this is a structural addition to cybernetics? A different class of loop?”

“A loop with no outward path,” Haplous affirmed. “A loop that stays inside.”

Synergos exhaled sharply. “Could machines be built to do this?”

“Perhaps. But no machine does this yet. They all wait for input, then act, then adjust. But none catch themselves mid-expression and create internal meaning from that almost-act. None become aware through that catching.”

Synergos was quiet for a long moment, his gaze distant. Then he looked up. “So this isn’t just another feedback layer. It’s a whole new channel.”

“It is. And it may be the only reason anything ever feels like anything at all.”

“Okay,” Synergos said, shifting on the bench. “I wanted to get back to that.”

“So I don’t have to keep repeating the entire process, I’m just going to start calling it looping, okay? Does it make sense?” Haplous asked.

Synergos nodded. “Yes, that seems like an apt term. Because we discussed how in interindividual communication, the neuronal configuration in the brain at large gets outputted to the PTD. And now we’re saying that the activity in the outgoing channel of the PTD gets predicted and transformed into activation of neuronal proxies.”

Haplous’s expression brightened. “Yes! You see it clearly.” He leaned forward slightly. “So you see it’s a process that begins with neuronal proxies in the brain at large, which is transformed into activity in the outgoing channel of the PTD. But instead of being actually spoken, it is sensed again by the brain at large, essentially returning back – though in a slightly altered form. So that’s a loop.”

Synergos hesitated, his fingers lightly tapping his papers. “Okay,” he said, his brow furrowed, “but I still can’t imagine how that would feel.”

Haplous chuckled softly, then nodded. He let a few moments pass. “Yes. And now, ask yourself – when you listen to someone speak, what happens in your mind?”

Synergos blinked. “I understand the words.”

“More than that,” Haplous pressed gently. “What do you experience? When someone is speaking to you, do you have to consciously construct the meaning, piece by piece?”

Synergos shook his head. “No. It just... appears. I hear the words, and their meaning is simply there.”

“Exactly. Now, what about when you read a book?”

“It’s the same,” Synergos admitted quietly, as if a realization was forming. “The words activate meaning automatically – I don’t have to work to generate the understanding; it comes to me as I read.”

Haplous tilted his head slightly. “Now, here is the insight: this is exactly what looping feels like.”

Synergos straightened, his expression intent. “You mean – ?”

“Yes. Looping is the same process.” Haplous allowed the words to settle before continuing. “When you listen to someone, your brain receives external words that activate neuronal proxies, bringing their meaning directly into awareness. When you loop, your brain is doing the exact same thing – but instead of hearing words from another person, it is receiving incipient activation from its own PTD. The process is identical. That’s why imagination and thought feel subjectively similar – in terms of the end result, which is the experience of the content or meaning – to reading a book or listening to someone speak. Because fundamentally, they are the same kind of experience.”

Synergos’s brow furrowed as he took this in, his gaze dropping briefly to his papers before returning to Haplous. “So when I have a thought, it’s as if my own brain is speaking to me?”

“Not just as if,” Haplous corrected gently but firmly. “It is your brain speaking to you. The only difference is that the ‘speaker’ is not another person – it’s your own PTD’s outgoing channel activating neuronal proxies before a word is ever spoken. This is what makes looping such a powerful and intimate process. It allows you to listen to yourself just as effortlessly as you listen to someone else.”

Synergos exhaled sharply, his gaze drifting toward the monastery fields, now clear in the crisp morning light. He shook his head slightly. “That... explains a lot. No wonder internal thought feels so much like reading or listening. I never questioned why it should feel that way.”

Haplous watched him for a moment, then smiled. “And that is precisely why looping was never recognized as a separate process before. People have always assumed that internal thought is something completely different from reading or listening – when in fact, it is merely the brain’s own words being internally processed through the same mechanism.”

He sat back, allowing Synergos to absorb the idea. The sound of distant farm work drifted on the air.

“That’s so interesting,” Synergos said at length. “It’s going to take me a while to assimilate it, though, I think. But do you think that this looping follows a certain pathway?”

“No,” Haplous replied simply.

Synergos shifted, looking doubtful. “Why not? The brain seems to have pathways for everything – vision, movement, even emotion. Why would looping be different?”

Haplous turned back to him. “For two reasons. First, because it is something that is not hardwired at birth. Each brain invents this process anew during infancy. And second, it is predicated on the operation of the language faculty, which is something very recent in evolution. Our brain at large has been evolving for half a billion years. Just think of the therapsids, our direct ancestors, living on land and walking on four legs, perhaps even warm-blooded, at the end of the Permian Period, 250 million years ago, already with fully functioning brains similar to ours. And they directly descended from vertebrate fish, who, long before them, had brains operating on the same goal-seeking system, internal model, and neuronal proxies – just like us.”

Synergos looked thoughtful. “So it’s a very ancient system, functioning along the same lines. And then the language faculty got added onto it. And then, with each generation, the brains of infants discover a correlation between the two and create a useful tool from it, called looping.”

Haplous nodded encouragingly. “That’s it. It just makes sense that the language faculty wouldn’t rewire everything. That’s not how evolution works. Evidence for this is how the right brain in split-brain cases functions fairly well without direct access to the language faculty. It still retains its original structural functions, which were never dependent on language. The language faculty is more like an add-on. That’s how evolution works – when a new feature arises, at first, it’s just another element added to the rest of the previously operational system. Then, as you say, the looping is a further process, where the brain at large senses activity in the language faculty, puts it to use.”

Synergos leaned forward. “So, the language faculty can be considered a subsystem, with the brain at large still a functionally complete system on its own. And looping is a tool the brain at large invents to extract a new use from the language faculty, apart from communication with others?”

“Yep.”

Synergos still seemed unsatisfied. “But the lack of a definite structure, is that maybe a scientific problem? I mean can the framework be a scientific explanation if it talks about a process that has no physical structure?”

“Is there a structure for the process of recollection?” Haplous countered. “We talked about that – how it relies on interfunctional complementation, taking in evidence from all over the brain. It is a diffuse operation.”

Synergos considered this. “So if scientists try to look for a fixed looping circuit – some anatomical structure that ‘does’ looping – they won’t find it?”

Haplous’s smile widened slightly. “Tell me, where is the United States banking system?”

Synergos blinked. “What?”

“The banking system. Where is it? Is it inside bank buildings? In vaults? In the Federal Reserve? In the trucks that transport money? Maybe it is in the internet connections between the people who work there?”

Synergos opened his mouth, then closed it, understanding spreading across his face. “Well... it’s all of those things. It’s the interactions between all those objects and people.”

“And yet, no one doubts it exists. It affects markets, policies, and even the choices people make in their daily lives. We talk about it, regulate it, build laws around it. It’s real not because we can point to a single location, but because its effects shape the world. The same is true of looping – it’s not about where it is, but about what it does.”

“So scientifically, would that mean you could never prove whether it exists or not?” Synergos asked.

“Not at all. You don’t need to identify a structure to identify an operation or its effects. Can you trace the path of individual water molecules up from the surface of the ocean and then to their formation as clouds? Of course not. But we know for a fact that they evaporate and give rise to clouds.”

“But how could anyone falsify that looping takes place?”

“One way would be a three-step process,” Haplous began, ticking points off mentally. “First, identify telltale signs of neuronal proxies. Neuroscientists have already done this – they even located, in one individual, a neuron they called the ‘Jennifer Aniston neuron,’ which entered a certain state whenever a photo of Jennifer Aniston was seen, or her name was mentioned, or somehow came into the person’s cognitive context.”

“Really? That’s amazing.”

“Yes. That neuron, for that individual, is not the neuronal proxy for Jennifer Aniston itself, of course, but it can be used reliably as a telltale sign for it. The second step would be to find another such neuron in the outgoing channel of the language faculty, one that enters a state just before the name ‘Jennifer Aniston’ is spoken. But this should not be at the most outward level, just before motor commands to the organs of speech. It should be a telltale neuron at a deeper level, though still in the outbound channel of the language faculty. Because we can show that looping occurs at the level of components, not words, so this is at a more basic semantic level. Third, it would be a simple experiment to verify whether the active state of that telltale neuron in the PTD consistently comes before the active state of the Jennifer Aniston neuron in the neuronal proxy. That would demonstrate looping – or not – even if we never locate the precise pathways through which the brain coordinates these two.”

Synergos exhaled, shaking his head slightly as he absorbed the explanation. “That makes sense. No wonder it was never recognized before – it wouldn’t leave behind a clear, identifiable trace the way other brain functions do.”

He sat back, the tension in his forehead easing. “So looping is the same kind of thing. It’s not an object – it’s an interaction, a process.”

“Exactly,” Haplous said. “A functional reality that exists because of how different brain regions interact. If scientists look for a looping circuit, they won’t find one. But if they look at how the brain at large senses and utilizes the outgoing channel of the PTD, they’ll see its effects everywhere.”

“And this capability, once discovered...” Synergos began.

“Becomes completely natural. So natural that until yesterday, I never even noticed I was doing it.” Synergos laughed softly. “Though I suppose that’s true of most patterns the brain discovers?”

“It reminds me of something,” he said, watching a sparrow hop across the dirt path near their feet. “The way Brother Michael learned to ring the bells.”

“How so?”

“Well, at first he had to think about each movement consciously. But once his brain recognized the patterns...” Synergos paused, recognition crossing his face. “The knowledge just became natural, immediate. Like how this sparrow doesn’t calculate trajectories, it just... knows.”

“Yes. And consider something interesting about these patterns the brain discovers...” Haplous prompted.

“Once it finds them, they become automatic? Like how I don’t think about walking anymore, I just...” Understanding flashed in Synergos’s eyes. “Oh! Even that observation appeared as direct meaning! Through this same pattern we’re discussing!”

“Notice how the brain constantly uses patterns it has discovered...”

“Yes! Whether it’s physical patterns like walking, or this pattern of activating proxies directly...” Synergos frowned thoughtfully. “But this particular pattern seems especially remarkable, doesn’t it? Because it creates this whole new kind of experience?”

Haplous smiled. “And what exactly makes this pattern so special?”

“Well, instead of just improving how we do things, like walking or bell-ringing...” Synergos spoke slowly, working out the thought, “...this pattern creates an entirely new capability. The ability to have meanings appear directly in our...” He stopped, catching himself. “I was going to say ‘in our minds,’ but that’s circular, isn’t it? This pattern is what creates that inner experience in the first place!”

“Yes,” Haplous said, his hands warming around his coffee cup. “Think carefully about what makes this pattern unique. When the brain discovers a pattern for walking or bell-ringing...”

“It’s finding a more efficient way to do something it could already do,” Synergos nodded. “But this pattern...”

“Yes?” Haplous encouraged.

“It creates something entirely new! Before discovering this pattern, all meaning had to come through actual expression and perception. But after...” He gestured toward the ancient oak. “Now meaning can appear directly, instantly, without any physical sequence at all.”

“Something puzzles me,” Synergos said after a moment. “I remember reading about Freud’s ideas – something about a censor in the mind that prevents certain thoughts from reaching consciousness...”

“Ah yes,” Haplous smiled warmly. “One of Freud’s most brilliant observations. He recognized something profound about how certain content seems unable to enter consciousness.”

“But you don’t sound entirely convinced by his explanation?” Synergos ventured.

“Well, like many pioneering insights in science,” Haplous said, his fingers touching his wooden cross, “the first recognition of a phenomenon often comes wrapped in metaphor. Think about early astronomers describing the ‘music of the spheres’ – they’d recognized something real about celestial motion, even though their explanation wasn’t mechanical.”

“And Freud’s idea of a censor...”

“Was an incredibly useful metaphor that helped countless therapists and patients understand their experience,” Haplous acknowledged. “But now that we understand the brain’s mechanical operation, we can see what he was actually observing.”

“What was that?”

“Are you familiar with experiments involving rats and electrified cage floors?”

“You mean where they learn to avoid certain areas?”

“Yes. Think carefully about what happens when a rat steps into an electrified section.” Haplous’s hand rested near his cross. “After a few experiences...”

“They learn never to go there again!” Synergos leaned forward slightly. “The negative experience conditions them to avoid that area completely.”

“And this conditioning works...”

“Completely automatically,” Synergos spoke slowly, comprehension dawning. “There’s no conscious decision, no separate agent deciding what to avoid...”

“Like how your hand pulls back from a hot surface before you even think about it?” Haplous offered.

“Exactly. The brain doesn’t need a ‘censor’ – it simply learns. If looping about something creates distress, it avoids it, just as naturally as avoiding pain.”

“If engaging looping about certain content consistently creates distress...”

“The brain at large would naturally learn to avoid activating those patterns!” Synergos nodded enthusiastically. “Just like the rat learning to avoid the electrified section!”

“And there’s no need for any kind of conscious censor,” Synergos said thoughtfully. “It’s just straightforward conditioning – if looping about something causes pain, the brain naturally learns not to go there?”

“Rather elegant solution, wouldn’t you say?” Haplous touched his cross with a subtle smile. “No need for complex psychological structures or separate agents...”

“Just basic learning through experience,” Synergos shook his head in wonder. “Though this raises another interesting question...”

“Yes?”

“Well, if it’s just conditioning,” Synergos straightened his papers thoughtfully, “then understanding these mechanics might actually help people work with difficult memories more effectively?”

“An interesting possibility,” Haplous allowed. “Though perhaps we should first understand more about how this conditioning process actually works...”

“But that’s just it,” Synergos leaned forward, his voice earnest. “If there’s no mysterious censor, just natural learning from experience, then working with trauma becomes much more straightforward – like gradually helping the brain learn it’s safe to engage looping about certain content?”

“Rather like how behavioral therapists help people overcome other kinds of conditioned responses?”

“Yes! Understanding it’s just basic conditioning makes the whole process clearer,” Synergos nodded. “Though I suppose there’s still much more to learn about how this actually works in practice?”

“Indeed,” Haplous said. “Though this simple mechanical explanation...”

“Makes the whole thing much less mysterious,” Synergos completed. “No need for complex theories about competing mental agencies or unconscious censorship...”

“Just the brain at large learning from experience,” Haplous affirmed gently, “like it does with everything else.”

The monastery cat appeared silently between the lavender stalks, its calm, observant nature a quiet reminder of how the brain learns directly from experience, without need for complex explanations.

“The scope of this capability...” Synergos began.

“It works with any kind of meaning! Abstract thoughts, sensory impressions, memories...” He paused. “Everything we were discussing yesterday about components and proxies – all those sophisticated combinations can now happen internally, instantly!”

“Rather like giving a craftsman a whole new workshop of tools?” Haplous suggested.

“Yes! Except...” Synergos frowned. “It’s more fundamental than that, isn’t it? Because this pattern doesn’t just give us new tools – it creates an entirely new way of...”

He stopped, profound realization crossing his face.

“Go on,” Haplous encouraged softly.

“It creates an entirely new way of experiencing. Before this pattern, there was just... direct behavior, direct expression. But after...” Synergos spoke slowly, his gaze widening. “After, there’s this whole new realm of inner experience.”

Synergos said after a thoughtful silence, his voice quieter now, “This changes how I see... well, everything. Even now as I’m forming this thought...”

“What do you notice?” Haplous asked.

“I can feel it happening – the meanings appearing directly, building on each other. But now I understand the mechanism! I’m not just having these experiences, I’m...” He smiled. “I’m watching the pattern in action.”

“Like a craftsman who suddenly understands how his tools work?”

“More intimate than that. It’s like... I’m not just thinking. I’m seeing what thinking is.” He glanced at Haplous. “Does that make sense?”

“Tell me more about what you’re observing.”

“Well, take this conversation we’re having. Before, I would have just... experienced it. But now I can notice how each meaning appears through this pattern, how each proxy activation leads to the next...” He paused. “Though understanding the mechanism doesn’t change the experience itself, does it?”

“No more than understanding how you walk changes the act of walking?”

“Exactly! The pattern works just the same, whether we notice it or not. It’s just that now...”

“Something else occurs to me,” Synergos said, watching a leaf spiral down from the monastery’s ancient oak. “About how these meanings appear...”

“Yes?”

“When I’m focused on something specific, like watching this leaf fall, there’s a kind of... immediacy to it? The meanings appear almost simultaneously with the perception.”

“Go on,” Haplous prompted.

“But then other meanings start appearing – about autumn coming, about the garden cleanup needed, about the budget for new rakes...” Synergos paused. “It’s like layers of meaning, each building on the last. All through this same pattern of direct activation?”

“And notice something interesting about the fundamental nature or quality of these different meanings...”

“They’re all equally... real? Whether they come from what I’m seeing right now, or from memory, or from abstract thought – they all appear through the same mechanism, don’t they?”

“Yes. And what does this suggest about experience in general?”

“That all these different kinds of experience – perception, recollection, abstract thought...” Synergos spoke carefully, “they’re all just different patterns of proxy activation through this same mechanism?”

“Rather remarkable, isn’t it? How one simple pattern can create such rich variety of experience?”

“There’s something puzzling me,” Synergos said, his gaze still on the falling leaves. “When I look at this oak tree, I can see its branches and think about last autumn’s harvest at the same time...”

“Can you?” Haplous asked quietly. “Try to observe very carefully.”

“Well, of course I...” Synergos frowned, his attention turning inward. “Wait. When I really pay attention... it’s like I’m switching between them? The visual experience and the recollection?”

“Look more closely. What exactly happens when you try to hold both at once?”

“It’s... strange. I feel like I’m experiencing both, but when I really examine it...” Synergos spoke with the deliberation of a monastery administrator. “I can only actually focus on one at a time. The other becomes sort of... theoretical?”

“Interesting observation,” Haplous nodded. “And what might this suggest about the mechanism we’ve been discussing?”

“Well, if these experiences are all created through the same pattern of proxy activation...” Comprehension dawned. “They couldn’t happen simultaneously, could they? It would be like trying to speak two sentences at the same time!”

“And yet – doesn’t it often feel like we’re experiencing multiple things at once?”

“Yes! The switching must be so fast and imperceptible that it creates an illusion of...” Synergos paused, looking around as if testing the idea. “Even right now, as I’m realizing this, I can’t hold the visual experience of the tree and this new understanding at the exact same moment!”

“You are catching the idea,” Haplous encouraged. “It’s almost as hard as catching sight of the blind spot we all have on each of our retinas.”

“But this seems impossible,” Synergos protested after a moment, standing and taking a few paces. “When I’m walking to chapel, I can see where I’m going and think about the day’s accounting tasks at the same time, can’t I?”

“Try it right now,” Haplous suggested with a hint of a smile. “Walk a few steps while working on a budget calculation.”

Synergos walked a short distance, then stopped, looking troubled.

“What did you notice?” Haplous asked.

“When I was really focused on the budget numbers... I was walking automatically, not actually experiencing the path. And when I paid attention to where I was walking...” He shook his head. “The budget thoughts paused. The switching is so quick that it seemed simultaneous, but...”

“Yes?”

“I can’t actually hold both experiences at once – the direct sensory experience of walking and the abstract thinking about numbers. When I try, I’m really just...” Synergos spoke slowly, looking back at Haplous, “...rapidly switching between them.”

“Like how we might think we’re looking at the lavender patch while planning tomorrow’s activities?”

“Exactly! But we’re either experiencing the lavender patch directly, or experiencing our thoughts about tomorrow. Never truly both at once.” Synergos sat back down thoughtfully. “And this makes perfect sense if all these experiences – sensory perception, abstract thinking, recollection – are created through the same mechanism!”

“But what about complex activities?” Synergos asked, his gaze drawn to Sister Agnes arranging flowers while discussing scripture with Brother Thomas across the courtyard. “Surely they must be doing both things at once?”

“Look more carefully,” Haplous suggested. “When Sister Agnes pauses her arrangement to make a particularly subtle theological point...”

“Ah!” Synergos observed keenly. “Her hands stop moving – she’s fully engaged with the discussion!”

“Yes. And when she returns to a tricky part of the arrangement...”

“Her contribution to the discussion becomes more automatic – brief agreements and nods!” Realization lit Synergos’s features. “She’s actually switching between tasks, isn’t she?”

“Just as you were between walking and calculations. Though notice how practiced she is at these transitions...”

“They’re so smooth we hardly notice them,” Synergos agreed. “And Brother Thomas does the same – when he’s making an intricate point about interpretation...”

“His participation in the flower arrangement becomes minimal?”

“Yes! But it all flows so naturally...” Synergos murmured. “Is that why we assume we’re doing everything simultaneously?”

“Rather like how your walking seemed simultaneous with your calculations? Until you examined it carefully?”

“And I suppose that’s true for all skilled activities?” Synergos gestured toward the various activities around the courtyard. “Brother Michael adjusting the sundial while singing psalms, Brother James transcribing manuscripts while listening to the readers...”

“They’ve learned to transition smoothly between tasks,” Haplous said. “Though if you watch carefully, you’ll see moments when one task must take precedence...”

“When the psalm reaches a difficult passage, or the manuscript requires special attention?”

“Yes. The brain can only loop about one thing at a time,” Haplous said, his fingers touching his wooden cross. “Though it becomes quite skilled at managing these transitions.”

“Something interesting about walking and thinking,” Synergos offered, returning to his earlier experiment. “When I’m focused on budget calculations while walking...”

“Yes?”

“The walking continues, but I’m not generating those direct meanings about it through this pattern we discussed. My attention is fully occupied with the budget thoughts.”

“And when you shift your attention back to walking?”

“Then I get all those immediate meanings – about the path, my movements, the sensations. But I can’t seem to hold both at once. It’s always one or the other.”

“Yes. And notice how smoothly these shifts can happen...”

“Like right now – I can move between experiencing the bench I’m sitting on and thinking about schedules. But it’s always a shift between different ways of using this same pattern, isn’t it?” Synergos concluded.

“Something puzzles me,” he said slowly after a pause, his fingers absently straightening his papers. “As I notice these shifts between different experiences – from thoughts to sensations and back...”

“Yes?” Haplous prompted.

“It’s as though my experience is somehow... circumscribed? Like I’m moving between different types of meaning within some kind of boundary?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, take walking here this morning. I was shifting between thoughts about the accounts, noticing the path, planning the day...” He hesitated, searching for precision. “It feels like all these experiences I switch between are of a similar kind, even while other things are happening that I’m not... that aren’t part of this shifting pattern?”

“An interesting observation,” Haplous replied quietly, his gaze steady. “Though perhaps we should focus for now on understanding more about the experiences you can observe directly?”

Synergos nodded, though his expression remained pensive. “Yes, of course. But I can’t help feeling there’s something significant about this boundary...”

“This pattern we’ve been discussing,” Synergos said, shifting focus, “where meanings appear through prediction – it’s like a kind of loop, isn’t it? From the PTD back to direct proxy activation?”

“An interesting way to put it,” Haplous acknowledged. “What makes you describe it that way?”

“Well, instead of completing the whole physical sequence, the brain loops back from the beginning to create the meaning directly.” Synergos made a circular gesture with his hand. “And this looping seems to work with all sorts of different things – immediate sensations, memories, abstract thoughts...”

“Yes. And what might be some practical uses of this capability?”

“Well...” Synergos paused thoughtfully. “I suppose when I’m planning the monastery’s winter supplies, I can examine different possibilities before taking action? Or when preparing what I’ll say at the next administrative meeting...”

“Before we explore too many monastery applications,” Haplous interjected with a gentle smile, his hand resting near his cross, “perhaps we should consider something more fundamental. These capabilities evolved over millions of years...”

“Ah,” Synergos nodded. “So we should think about more basic survival uses?”

“Yes. What kinds of immediate advantages would this looping provide to early humans? Or even to pre-human species?”

“Well...” Synergos watched a squirrel expertly navigate a tree branch. “Being able to try out different possibilities before acting could help avoid danger? Testing different paths without having to physically attempt them?”

“And in terms of basic survival...”

“Planning how to get food? Anticipating predator behavior?” Understanding dawned in Synergos’s eyes. “Even simple uses of this looping would provide immediate advantages, wouldn’t they?”

“Rather like how basic warning calls provided immediate benefits, before more complex communication developed?”

“Yes! The simplest applications would help survival, even before any sophisticated uses evolved...”

“Suppose you wanted to get fruit from that high branch...” Haplous suggested.

“Ah!” Synergos leaned forward – that characteristic intensity when grasping a new concept. “Instead of physically trying different approaches – climbing, throwing stones, finding a ladder – I could explore the possibilities through looping!”

“And why does this work?”

“Because...” Synergos spoke slowly, his administrator’s precision articulating the connection, “my brain has an internal model built from all these components – about height, stability, tool use... When I loop through possible solutions, I’m activating these proxies in combinations that let me evaluate each approach before actually trying it!”

“Rather efficient, isn’t it?”

“Yes! The same proxies that would be activated by actual experience are being activated directly, so the evaluation feels real. It’s like...” Synergos gestured with controlled excitement, “like running a simulation using the brain’s internal model!”

“And compare this to having to test each possibility physically...”

“The savings in time and energy would be enormous. Even simple survival tasks would become so much more efficient!” Synergos concluded with conviction.

“Say you needed to retrieve that old manuscript from the top shelf in the archive,” Haplous said after a moment.

“Well, normally I’d just try different ways until something worked,” Synergos replied.

“But now that you understand this looping process...”

“Ah!” He sat up straighter. “I could test different approaches without actually having to try them! Use the ladder? No, too wobbly on these old flagstones. A pole with a hook? That might scratch the binding...” Synergos paused, mild astonishment crossing his face. “I’m doing it right now, aren’t I? Testing possibilities by activating the same proxies that would be activated if I were actually attempting each solution?”

“Yes. And compare this to having to physically try each approach...”

“The savings in time and effort would be enormous! And it would prevent damage or injury from failed attempts.” Synergos shook his head with wonder. “Even such a simple capability would provide immediate survival advantages, wouldn’t it? Testing whether a branch would hold your weight, or if you could jump across a stream...”

“Rather remarkable that such a simple pattern could create such a useful new capability?”

“Yes! Though...” Synergos frowned thoughtfully, glancing down at his notes – always the careful documenter. “There must be other practical uses for this looping besides just testing physical actions?”

“Consider when Brother Thomas described the water damage in the east wing roof,” Haplous suggested.

“Ah yes, even from down here in the courtyard, I could work out how the rain must be getting in...” Synergos stopped mid-sentence. “Oh! I was generating meanings about the entire water flow – where it would collect, how it would travel under the tiles, which beams would be affected – all while standing here, nowhere near the actual damage!”

“Yes. And what exactly was happening when you figured this out?”

“I was using this looping process to combine different components – about water flow, wood rot, tile placement... Even though I couldn’t physically see any of it from where I stood.” Synergos gestured with an open hand. “Not just recalling the roof, but actively working with these components to understand what must be happening up there!”

“Rather different from simply knowing a familiar path?”

“Entirely different! Through this looping, I can work with meanings about things completely out of sight, understanding how they must be interacting.” Synergos paused, his expression serious. “This explains so much about human problem-solving, doesn’t it? We can reason about processes happening where we can’t directly see them.”

“How might our earliest ancestors have used this capability?” Haplous asked, his gaze distant.

“You mean before monasteries and account books?” Synergos smiled.

“Yes. Imagine an early human about to make camp for the night...”

“Well, they’d need to find a safe spot...” Synergos glanced up at the oak tree above them, then suddenly leaned forward. “Oh! Like right now – I’ve just generated meanings about that dead branch up there, how it might fall in a strong wind...”

“And that kind of foresight?”

“An animal might avoid a place that had previously been dangerous, but this is different! I’m combining components about weight, wind force, wood decay – creating meanings about something that hasn’t happened yet and might never have happened before in my experience!”

“Through this looping process?”

“Yes! I can see the whole sequence – the crack widening, the branch falling – without anything actually moving. The proxies activated are so vivid that I can evaluate the danger as if it were really happening!”

“Yesterday, when I saw that loose stone in the bell tower stairs...” Synergos said after a moment, watching a falcon circle high above the monastery.

“Yes?”

“At first it was just a quick observation – a slight wobble as I stepped. But then I looped through the experience, focusing on exactly how it moved, where the weakness was...”

“And what happened to that memory?”

“It became much clearer and stronger than just the momentary sensation! By generating meanings about it through this looping – the exact position, the way it tilted, the sound it made – I created a much richer memory than the brief physical experience alone.”

“And why might that be important?”

“Well, that stone could work loose and fall, maybe injure someone coming up the stairs! By strengthening the memory through looping, I made sure I wouldn’t forget to have it repaired.” His administrator’s concern for safety evident in his tone.

“Think about our early ancestors...”

“Ah yes! If they noticed something subtle – perhaps a weak spot in the ground, or an unfamiliar track – that observation might fade away unless they thought it was important. But by looping through it, generating meanings about it again and again, they could fix crucial details firmly in memory.”

“Rather valuable for survival?”

“Yes! The initial proxies were activated by the actual experience, but the looping makes sure vital information isn’t lost. A single brief observation becomes a lasting part of their understanding!”

“You know,” Synergos said, his gaze sweeping across the field of lavender, “I can see everything at once – the flowers, the paths, the wall bordering the wheat field...”

“Can you?” Haplous asked quietly. “Try something. Keep looking at that wall while also noticing the configuration of the oak’s branches.”

“Well, of course I can see...” Synergos frowned, attempting the experiment. “That’s strange. When I focus on the stones in the wall, the oak’s branches become... not exactly invisible, but somehow less present. And when I return to the details of the wall, I lose the clarity of the branches.”

“Yet you felt you were seeing everything clearly at once?”

“Yes! It’s as though my brain provides some sort of... overview that makes me think I’m seeing everything, but when I actually examine any part closely...” He paused. “This must be why we never noticed that looping can only handle one thing at a time. The switching is so quick, and this overview so convincing...”

“When I have this... overview of the whole field,” Synergos continued, still looking out, “it feels like I’m seeing all the details – every flower, every stone...”

“Yet when you actually examine those details?”

“The overview becomes more like a... potential? Like I know the details are there to be looked at, but they’re not actually present in my experience until I focus on them specifically!” He shook his head in wonder. “And when I focus on any particular detail, that becomes vivid while everything else becomes more like... possibilities waiting to be examined?”

“Rather like having a map versus actually walking the terrain?”

“Yes! The overview is like having the whole map at once, but when I want to actually experience any specific part...” Synergos gestured. “I have to shift my looping to that specific location! I can switch back and forth between overview and detail, but I can’t actually have both at once!”

“Yet until now, it seemed as though you were experiencing everything simultaneously?”

“That’s the extraordinary thing – the switching is so smooth, and the overview so convincing, that I never noticed I was moving between these different modes of experience. Each time I loop through a detail, it’s there vividly, and then back to the overview where everything seems present at once...” He paused. “Though now I can see that ‘at once’ is an illusion.”

“This seems to be a particular sticking point for people trying to understand their own mental operation,” Haplous said thoughtfully, his fingers touching his wooden cross.

“How so?”

“Well, this illusion is so convincing – that we’re experiencing everything at once – that it prevents us from seeing how our experience actually works.” He smiled gently. “Sometimes I entertain the notion of writing down my understanding of these matters, and if I ever did, I would refer to this principle as ‘overview and focus.’”

“It does seem fundamental,” Synergos mused, watching a bee move methodically between flowers. “Even now that I understand it, if I’m not paying attention, the illusion takes over again – that I’m seeing the whole field at once, in complete detail.”

“Yes. And how rarely we question it. Even those who spend their lives studying the mind often seem to overlook this basic feature of experience.”

“I suppose that’s not surprising,” Synergos said reflectively. “Until we examine it carefully, the switching between overview and focus is so seamless that we never notice it happening.”

“When I walk into my study each morning, I seem to take in everything at once,” Haplous began, watching the monastery cat patrol the long grass beside the footpath.

“Yes, it’s quite remarkable how quickly we grasp an entire scene,” Synergos nodded.

“But is that what’s really happening? Think carefully – could our brain possibly process every detail of the room anew each time?”

“Well...” Synergos frowned slightly. “When you put it that way, it does seem impossible to generate so much information so quickly.”

“Indeed. Imagine if one morning I walked into my study and found a goldfish bowl sitting in the middle of my desk.”

“Your attention would be drawn to it immediately!” Synergos responded.

“Yes! Because it’s different from what I expect to find there. And our friend here...” Haplous gestured to where the monastery cat was now intensely investigating a rake the gardener had left leaning against the kitchen garden wall. “What’s happening?”

“It’s focusing all its attention on the new object!” Synergos leaned forward. “Because the rake wasn’t part of its... its expected pattern of the garden?”

“Exactly. Instead of processing everything anew each time, our brains maintain what we might call a status quo ante – a model of what’s normally there. Then we primarily notice what’s different.”

“Rather efficient, isn’t it? Imagine if every time we entered a room or looked around a garden, we had to generate everything from scratch...”

“Three hundred million years of evolution has given us this elegant solution,” Haplous said. “Our sensory systems are exquisitely tuned to detect mismatches from the expected state. When everything matches the status quo ante, we barely process it at all.”

“But anything different immediately captures our attention! Like our friend here, discovering something new in its territory.”

“Yes. And notice how this works with the overview and focus we just discussed...”

“But this expected state isn’t fixed, is it?” Synergos asked, his gaze following the monastery cat as it gradually lost interest in the rake.

“No. Consider what’s happening with our feline friend. Its sensory system is constantly making quick, cursory checks of its environment...”

“Like a guard walking his rounds?”

“Good analogy! Not examining everything in detail, just ensuring all is as expected. But the moment something differs from the status quo ante...”

“The focus shifts entirely to that thing! Until we make sense of it?”

“Yes. And once we understand the change...” Haplous gestured to where the monastery cat was now calmly grooming itself next to the rake, “it becomes part of the new status quo ante.”

“The brain maintains this delicate balance – quick checks to confirm everything’s normal, but instantly alert to anything unexpected.”

“And notice how efficient this is,” Haplous added. “Most of the time, that cursory scan is all we need. Our attention is free for other things, until something truly requires our focus.”

“Like when Brother Michael moved the chapel candlesticks last week – everyone noticed immediately!”

“Yes! But by now, their new position has become part of the status quo ante, hasn’t it?”

“And we’d notice just as quickly if someone moved them back,” Synergos laughed. “The brain is quite vigilant about these things!”

“I wonder if this principle applies to more than just seeing?” Synergos said after a thoughtful pause.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, right now I can have an overview sense of the monastery’s finances – budget categories, major expenses, income sources... but when I focus on any specific aspect...”

“Yes?”

“The same thing happens! When I examine the details of, say, the food budget, that becomes vivid while everything else becomes more like... possibilities waiting to be examined.” Synergos leaned forward. “And I can’t actually hold both the detailed figures and the overall pattern in mind at once, can I? Even though it feels like I can?”

“Interesting observation. And what does this suggest about how this looping process works?”

“That it’s the same mechanism whether we’re dealing with what we see, or abstract thoughts, or memories...” Synergos spoke slowly. “Always shifting between overview and detail, but so smoothly we don’t notice the transitions?”

“And when I’m planning the winter preparations?” Synergos continued. “I notice I have an overview sense of all the tasks – roof repairs, food storage, firewood...”

“Yet when you focus on any specific task?”

“Yes! When I think about the roof repairs in detail – which beams need replacing, what materials we’ll need – the other tasks become more like... shadows in the background. Still there as possibilities to examine, but not in full detail.”

“And this shifting happens naturally?”

“So naturally that until now, I thought I was holding all the details in mind at once!” Synergos shook his head. “Whether it’s the physical fields around us, or abstract plans, or remembered experiences – it’s always this same pattern of overview and focus, isn’t it?”

“Rather efficient way for the brain to work with meaning?”

“Yes... and it must be tied to this looping process we discussed? Since we can only loop one type of meaning at a time, the brain gives us this overview sense while letting us focus on specific details as needed.”

“Like having a map while exploring new territory?”

“Exactly! The map shows everything at once, but you can only actually experience one location at a time...”

“So, everything I experience,” Synergos said, his voice taking on a more serious tone, “whether I’m seeing these fields, remembering yesterday’s events, or thinking about tomorrow’s tasks...”

“Yes?”

“It all happens through this looping process! There’s nothing I can subjectively experience that doesn’t come through this pattern of direct proxy activation.”

“Interesting observation. And what does this suggest?”

“That my experience is... somehow bounded by what this looping can generate? When I thought I was experiencing the world directly, I was actually experiencing meanings created through this pattern!”

“Like the overview and focus we just discussed?”

“Yes! Whether it’s immediate perception or abstract thought, I’m always experiencing meanings generated through this same mechanism. There isn’t any other way for me to...”

He stopped, struck by the weight of the implication.

“If everything I experience comes through this looping process...” Synergos said after a moment, his brow furrowed.

“Yes?”

“What about all the other things my brain must be doing? Like when I’m walking while absorbed in thought, or when Brother James plays the organ without thinking about his fingers?” He looked at Haplous with concern. “There must be so much activity that isn’t part of this looping.”

“And yet when you try to examine that activity...”

“That’s just it – I can only examine it through looping! The moment I try to understand what’s happening outside this process...” He gestured helplessly. “I have to use the very process I’m trying to look beyond.”

“Rather like trying to see around the edges of a mirror while only being able to look in the mirror?”

“Yes! How can we ever know what lies outside the bounds of this mechanism?”

“There’s something I don’t quite understand,” Synergos said, his focus returning. “If this looping isn’t the only way the brain functions...”

“Go on.”

“Well, take Brother James at the organ. His fingers can move perfectly over the keys without him looping about each movement. Or how I walked here this morning while thinking about other things.”

“Yes. And?” Haplous waited.

“So clearly the brain can function skillfully without looping. And yet...” Synergos frowned, struggling to articulate the thought. “And yet this looping seems absolutely essential for something. But I can’t quite see what.”

“Think about when Brother James teaches a new piece to a student.”

“Ah! Then he has to loop through each movement, understand it, explain it...” Understanding flashed in Synergos’s eyes. “Is that it? This looping lets us examine, understand, and share our experience?”

“Another strange thing,” Synergos said after a pause, looking down at his hands. “When I think back to moments ago, walking across the courtyard...”

“Yes?”

“It feels like I was experiencing everything fully then – the stones, the morning air, the bell tower... But was I? I was deep in thought about our earlier conversation.”

“What do you think?”

“Well, if I can only experience one type of looping at a time... then I couldn’t have been experiencing both my thoughts and the walking.” He spoke slowly, working it out. “But when I look back now, the looping creates a full experience of that walk, as though I’d been aware of everything!”

“Interesting observation. So when you examine any past moment...”

“I can only see it through current looping! Which might make it seem like I was experiencing things then that I actually wasn’t?” Synergos shook his head in wonder. “How can we ever know what our experience was really like before we examine it?”

“You mentioned teaching,” Synergos said, his expression thoughtful. “I suppose that’s really what makes this looping so important, isn’t it?”

“How so?”

“Well, without it, each person’s brain would function in isolation. But this mechanism lets us share understanding, learn from others, build on what others have discovered...”

“Like how you learned to manage the monastery’s accounts?”

“Yes! Brother Michael had to loop through his understanding to explain it to me. And I had to loop through what he shared to grasp it.” Synergos paused. “Though the actual skill, once learned, often operates without this looping, doesn’t it? Just like Brother James’s fingers on the organ keys.”

“The brain finding the most efficient way to function?”

“Yes, but always able to return to looping when we need to examine, understand, or share what we’re doing...”

“And it goes beyond just teaching, doesn’t it?” he continued. “When we discuss the monastery’s problems...”

“Yes?”

“Each person brings different understanding, different components. Through this looping, we can share these, combine them in new ways...” He gestured toward the courtyard where monks were engaged in various tasks. “Like last month, when we were trying to solve the drainage issue. Brother Thomas’s knowledge of the old tunnels, Brother James’s experience with water flow...”

“And what happened as you all shared these understandings?”

“Solutions emerged that none of us could have reached alone! Though once we implemented them...” Synergos smiled. “The actual water flows without any need for looping about it.”

“Rather remarkable that such a simple mechanism...”

“Could let us build understanding together? Yes!” Synergos paused, his gaze distant. “Though I suppose that’s how all human knowledge develops, isn’t it? Each generation sharing what they’ve understood, adding to it...”

“It’s not just about passing knowledge from one person to another, is it?” Synergos said, his attention drawn to two novices deep in discussion by the chapel door.

“What do you mean?”

“When understanding is shared this way, through looping... it’s more like joining a vast network of meaning that exists between all of us.” He gestured toward the novices. “Those young brothers aren’t just learning facts – they’re entering into centuries of accumulated understanding about prayer, about community, about...” He hesitated. “About everything that can be shared through this mechanism.”

“And this network of meaning...”

“It keeps growing! Each time someone loops through something in a new way, sees a new connection...” Synergos’s eyes widened. “That becomes available to others, doesn’t it? Even though the brain at large does the actual work, this looping lets us share the results, build on them...”

“Like stones being added to a cathedral?”

“Yes! Each generation standing on what was built before, reaching higher...”

“Something still puzzles me deeply,” Synergos admitted after a moment. “We talk about this looping as though it’s the center of everything, and yet...”

“Yes?”

“Well, the brain clearly functions perfectly well without it. Not just simple things like walking, but complex skills like Brother James at the organ, or the way Brother Thomas can carve wood with such artistry while his mind is elsewhere.”

“An interesting observation. What does this suggest?”

“That the brain at large is always the fundamental operator, isn’t it? Whether we’re looping or not, it’s doing the actual work.” Synergos looked perplexed. “But then why does this looping seem so... so central to our experience?”

“Can you examine what lies outside of looping?”

“No! And that’s just it – I can’t even properly ask about what happens outside of looping without using looping to ask the question.” He shook his head with mild frustration. “It’s as though we’re trapped inside this mechanism, even while knowing there’s so much happening beyond it...”

“In that statement,” Haplous asked softly, “what do you mean by ‘we’?”

Synergos opened his mouth to answer, then stopped, new understanding dawning. “That’s... that’s quite interesting, isn’t it? When I say ‘we’re trapped in this mechanism’...”

“Yes?”

“Well, it must be the brain at large that’s actually doing everything. It’s the fundamental operator in both looped and non-looped activity.” He frowned thoughtfully. “And yet the only part I can ever examine or remember is what goes through this looping process.”

“Rather curious, isn’t it?”

“Yes! Anything I think about this conversation about the brain at large – if I plan it, notice it or remember it – that can only happen through looping! So when I say ‘we’...” He paused. “I’m somehow referring to something that exists and operates beyond what I can ever directly access through this mechanism.”

“Even though that access is the only way you can think about it?”

“Exactly! No wonder this has been so difficult to understand...”

“‘Even any thought about the brain at large that we consider in our thinking can only happen through looping,’” Haplous noted.

“Yes?”

“Consider what that suggests. The brain at large is the fundamental operator, and yet there is this surface interplay it studies, which always involves looping...”

“Ah!” Synergos leaned forward. “Anything we want to really notice, think about, perceive or recollect has to go through this looping process! ...”

“And those are crucial capabilities for the intellect, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes! No wonder this mechanism seems so central to our experience.” Synergos paused thoughtfully. “Though that doesn’t make it more important than what the brain at large does without looping...”

“Just more... noticeable?”

“Because it’s the only part we can talk about or deliberately recall! Everything else, no matter how crucial, remains...” He gestured vaguely toward the fields. “Outside what we can examine through this mechanism.”

“The brain at large does everything – all the actual work...” Synergos said, a slight frown returning.

“Yes?”

“And yet it seems to place enormous importance on this looping process. Like a master craftsman who somehow comes to value talking about his craft more than the craft itself.”

“An interesting comparison. How so?”

“Well, Brother Thomas can carve the most intricate designs without thinking about each movement. The brain at large handles it all beautifully. But then he seems to place special value on being able to think about it, talk about it...”

“As though the ability to examine the work becomes more important than doing it?”

“Yes! Though that seems backward somehow. Why would the brain give such special status to this one particular mechanism?”

“The craftsman metaphor raises a deeper question,” Haplous said, his voice measured. “About the relationship between the brain at large and this looping mechanism.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, consider what we’ve established. The brain at large operates through purely mechanical processes – state matching, proxy activation, goal achievement...”

“Yes, and this looping is just one of its capabilities – predicting and directly activating proxies through the PTD.”

“Yet somehow this particular mechanism seems to take on special significance. Why would a system that operates perfectly well without looping come to place such importance on it?”

“That does seem strange,” Synergos agreed. “Especially since the brain at large is still doing all the actual work, even when we’re looping.”

“Of all the brain’s vast operations...”

“Yes?”

“This looping mechanism can only engage with a small portion of them. The brain at large handles countless processes we can never loop about.”

“That’s true,” Synergos nodded. “Most of what the brain does remains outside this mechanism entirely.”

“Yet somehow this limited process...”

“Seems to take on such enormous importance.” Synergos frowned thoughtfully. “But are we sure it really does? Or does it just seem that way because it’s the only part we can examine and discuss?”

“An interesting question. How could we know?”

“We can’t, can we? Any evidence would have to come through this very mechanism...”

“Looking back at everything we’ve discussed,” Synergos said, his gaze sweeping over the courtyard as shadows began to lengthen, “something quite remarkable emerges about the nature of experience itself.”

“What do you see?” Haplous asked.

“Well, we started by discovering this mechanism – how the brain can activate proxies directly through PTD prediction. But now I realize...” He paused, searching for the words. “This isn’t just one capability among many. It’s what creates all the experiences I can actually examine or remember.”

“Go on.”

“Whether I’m seeing these fields, remembering yesterday’s events, or thinking about tomorrow – they’re all meanings generated through this same pattern.” Synergos gestured to their surroundings. “Even what seems like direct perception is actually these proxies being activated via looping.”

“And what does this suggest about experience?”

“That what I think of as my experience – any part of it I can examine or recall – must come through this mechanism. It’s not just one way of experiencing things...” He stopped, the full implication dawning. “It’s the only way I can experience anything I can actually know about.”

“And yet,” Haplous said quietly, “this looping is just another process the brain carries out, isn’t it?”

“Like walking, or playing music, or recognizing faces...” Synergos nodded. “The brain at large handles countless processes – this is simply one of them.”

“Though it has certain characteristics...”

“Yes – it’s the process we use for sharing understanding, for examining experience.” Synergos paused. “And since we can only discuss or remember things through this process, it’s easy to think it’s somehow more special than the brain’s other operations.”

“Even though...”

“Even though it’s just one more thing the brain does, alongside everything else.” Synergos smiled faintly. “Rather strange how we tend to give it such importance, when you think about it.”

“But perhaps it’s not so strange,” Haplous suggested, “why we seem to give this process such importance.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, think about what we can actually examine or discuss...”

“Ah!” Synergos leaned forward. “We can only recollect or talk about experiences that went through this looping process! It’s not that the process is more important, it’s just that...”

“Just that?”

“Everything we can examine falls along this... this line of looped experience. All the brain’s other processes continue just as they always have, but we can only know about the ones that intersect with this mechanism.”

“Rather like thinking a path through a forest is all there is to the forest...”

“Simply because it’s the only part we can actually trace!” Synergos shook his head in wonder. “The forest itself extends far beyond the path, but we can only describe what we see from it.”

“When we first started discussing this mechanism,” Synergos said, his tone more settled, “I thought we were discovering something separate from the brain’s other processes.”

“And now?”

“Now I see it’s just part of everything else the brain does. Like walking or breathing or recognizing faces.” He paused thoughtfully. “It’s just that this particular process lets us examine and share experience.”

“And creates something interesting in doing so?”

“Yes – this line of experience we can recollect and discuss. Though that’s not separate from everything else...” Synergos gestured at the fields around them, now bathed in the late morning light. “It’s more like a path through a larger landscape. The path isn’t more important than the landscape – it’s part of it.”

“Though it does have a particular use?”

“Yes, it lets us find our way together, share what we’ve seen...” He smiled. “Even while knowing there’s so much more to the landscape than what we can see from the path.”

“Beyond just letting us examine our own experience,” Haplous said, his voice taking on a deeper resonance.

“The fact that we can share it with others?”

“Yes. When we loop through experience, generate these meanings...”

“They can be shared, passed on to others!” Synergos nodded. “Like how we’re doing right now – sharing meanings about this very process.”

“And think about what that enables...”

“A kind of... network of shared understanding? Each person adding their own discoveries, insights...” He paused. “Though all of it has to flow through this same mechanism, doesn’t it? This same process of looping through meaning?”

“Rather like a common language?”

“Yes! Though not just words – a whole realm of shared meaning that we can all participate in because we all have this same mechanism.”

“You mentioned a realm of shared meaning,” Haplous noted. “Think about how that develops.”

“Well, when someone discovers something new through this looping process...”

“Yes?”

“They can share it with others, who can then loop through it themselves, maybe see new connections...” Synergos leaned forward. “And those new insights can be shared too! The understanding grows beyond what any one person could develop alone.”

“And all of this happens through this same mechanism?”

“Yes! Each brain using this same process of looping to generate and share meanings.” He paused. “Though the brain at large is still doing all the actual work, isn’t it? This looping just lets us... participate in something larger together?”

“Interesting way to put it,” Haplous murmured.

“Like we’re doing now – using this mechanism to understand how it works,” Synergos smiled. “Though I suspect there’s still much more to grasp?”

The monastery bells began to ring for evening prayer. Synergos noticed, with new clarity, how his attention shifted – from their conversation to the sound of the bells, to the lengthening shadows in the courtyard, and back again.

“We should continue tomorrow,” Haplous said, his hand touching his wooden cross.

“Yes, though...” Synergos smiled, understanding settling within him. “I’ll never experience anything quite the same way again, will I? Now that I understand this mechanism, how it creates these meanings we can examine and share...”

“While remembering it’s just one of the brain’s many processes?”

“Yes! Though I have a feeling there’s more to understand about how it all works together.” He stood, straightening his papers. “The brain at large, this looping process, this realm of shared meaning we seem to be exploring...”

“Tomorrow then?” Haplous asked, his eyes holding their usual warmth.

“Tomorrow,” Synergos nodded, then paused at the edge of the path. “You know, I used to think understanding how the mind works would make experience feel less... significant somehow. But this makes it all seem even more remarkable.”

Haplous smiled. “Wait until you see what comes next.”

— End of Dialog 2 —