Who has never had, as a child, the feeling of not fully understanding the world around them? At seven years old, some dream of astronauts, while others wonder why they are conscious of existing. It is these questions, often set aside by traditional education, that pave the way for the most fascinating explorations of consciousness. Far from schools, it is sometimes in nature or through experience that one discovers the secret structure of reality and the mind. What if everything was connected, from atoms to the memories of erased civilisations?

A childhood filled with questions – and doubts about reality

From the age of seven, some children begin to perceive the world differently. For the narrator, this period marks the beginning of a deep questioning of reality, consciousness, and existence. He is astonished that most people seem to accept reality as it presents itself, without ever questioning what appears obvious. This disconnect from the general attitude quickly becomes a source of perplexity, even isolation. He observes that few people seriously question consciousness, except for those who, at the end of life, turn to these questions, often too late to derive any real benefit.

At school, this inner questioning clashes with a difficult social reality. The feeling of not belonging to the group, of being on the margins, intensifies over the years. The difficulties of integration are exacerbated by negative experiences, sometimes even abuse, from teachers or students. This hostile school environment pushes the narrator to withdraw into himself, to seek meaning or balance elsewhere.

It is in nature that he finds refuge. Far from the tumult of classrooms and the often incomprehensible social rules, he discovers a universe where order and harmony prevail. The contemplation of the living becomes a source of calm and acceptance. He observes the structure of plants, the regularity of natural cycles, the organised complexity of ecosystems. This contrast with social chaos inspires him with the intuition that there is a hidden dimension of reality, an underlying organisation that human society does not always perceive.

This experience of isolation, far from being solely negative, paves the way for a form of inner exploration. The narrator begins to perceive nature as a model of balance, proof that order and structure are possible, even in a world that sometimes seems disordered. He wonders if human consciousness could also draw inspiration from this natural organisation.

The first classes in science, geometry, and physics only accentuate this feeling of disconnection. The academic system seems too rigid, too fragmented to him. He refuses to be confined to a dogmatic or limited view of reality. This incompatibility with traditional teaching drives him to pursue his research independently, outside the beaten paths.

This choice of voluntary isolation, often perceived as a weakness, actually becomes a strength. It allows the narrator to develop an interdisciplinary perspective, exploring the links between biology, physics, chemistry, and even archaeology. He draws inspiration from great figures in science, such as Max Planck or Albert Einstein, who were able to question the certainties of their time.

In nature, he discovers that organisation is not a mere coincidence. Living beings, the cycles of life, the growth of plants, everything seems to respond to a deep logic. This observation leads him to question the place of consciousness within this whole. Is it the product of an isolated brain, or the reflection of a larger organisation, an omnipresent field of information?

Research shows that consciousness is now studied in an interdisciplinary manner, integrating neuroscience, biology, physics, and philosophy. This holistic approach allows for a better understanding of the importance of organisation in living beings and its link to collective consciousness. The narrator, by observing nature, anticipates this modern trend of transcending the fragmentation of knowledge.

Ultimately, the narrator's childhood, marked by doubt and solitude, becomes the fertile ground for a quest for meaning. Nature, with its structure and balance, offers him an alternative model to social agitation. It nurtures the intuition that there is a hidden order, a broader reality to explore, far beyond the appearances and certainties imposed by society or school.

Science off the beaten path: the choice of independence

From childhood, certain minds stand out by their refusal to accept reality as it is presented. The narrator of this atypical journey begins very early to question consciousness, existence, and the nature of reality. He is astonished that most people seem to go through life without ever questioning the foundations of their presence on Earth. This deep curiosity, often absent in his peers, gradually isolates him, especially in an unwelcoming school context. The difficulties encountered at school, marked by a sense of non-belonging and painful experiences, push him to seek refuge elsewhere, particularly in nature. There, he discovers a form of organisation and balance that allows him to glimpse the existence of a hidden dimension of the world, an aspect of reality that traditional sciences do not always explain.

This rejection of traditional academic frameworks is not a mere act of rebellion. It is a determined will to preserve autonomy of thought, far from institutional dogmas. The narrator then chooses the path of self-education, immersing himself in the study of physics, geometry, chemistry, and other disciplines, without seeking academic validation. This independent journey is accompanied by an intense sporting career, notably as a mountain guide, which allows him to cultivate personal discipline and a closeness to natural laws.

Over the years, this self-directed approach transforms into a genuine quest for truth. Rather than aiming for a degree or a position, he is interested in a deep understanding of the universe and consciousness. He dedicates several years to living in isolation, studying physics and gradually collaborating with physicists to deepen his knowledge of mathematics. However, even in these collaborations, he maintains a personal interpretation of concepts, preferring to explore the hidden connections between disciplines rather than conforming to a narrow specialization.

This interdisciplinary approach becomes a cornerstone of his method. He studies physics, biology, chemistry, and archaeology in concert, convinced that the rigid separation of sciences obscures the fundamental unity of reality. According to him, “the universe makes no distinction between physics, biology, or chemistry”. Great figures of science, such as Max Planck, Einstein, or Paul Dirac, are cited as examples for their ability to think beyond disciplinary boundaries.

The critique of the fragmentation of the sciences aligns with the findings of contemporary research: many researchers today emphasise the need for an integrated approach to address complex questions such as consciousness or the origin of matter[1][2][3]. Interdisciplinarity is now recognised as a key paradigm, allowing for the connection of diverse fields such as social sciences, biology, physics, or philosophy.

In this perspective, consciousness is no longer seen as a mere product of the brain, but as information animating matter. The narrator suggests that the brain and organs act as “fractal quantum antennas”, capable of capturing and transmitting information from the structure of the void. This vision aligns with certain hypotheses of modern physics, which explores the notion of an omnipresent information field and the energy of the void as the substrate of matter[4].

Far from being limited to theory, this intellectual independence allows for the consideration of links between ancient knowledge and recent discoveries. The concepts of prana, chi, or manar, present in many civilisations, are related to the idea of a universal energy field, sometimes equated with ether. Researchers like Frank Wilczek today discuss the materiality of the void and the possibility of a fundamental interconnection between all elements of the universe.

Ultimately, this choice of scientific independence is not an escape, but an active approach to rediscover the meaning of unity, coherence, and openness. It is about transcending boundaries, connecting disciplines, and daring to explore the forgotten mysteries that link consciousness, nature, and science.

The strange matter: energy of the void, atoms, and the omnipresent field of information

From childhood, some curious minds wonder what matter really is, what composes reality, and why consciousness exists. This profound questioning, often overlooked in daily life, sometimes leads to a solitary exploration, far from the beaten paths of traditional teaching. In this journey, a major discovery emerges: matter, far from being full and compact, is made up of 99.99999999% space. What is called the "void" is not a nothingness, but a space saturated with energy and information.

Modern physics, particularly since the early 20th century, has revealed that atoms, the fundamental building blocks of matter, are primarily composed of void. This void, long perceived as an absence, is now revealed to be a dynamic field, carrying energy and information. The narrator, through years of interdisciplinary studies and observations, joins the great figures of physics such as Max Planck, Einstein, or Paul Dirac, for whom the universe is not limited to visible matter, but extends to invisible, interconnected dimensions.

This omnipresent field of information, sometimes called "ether" in ancient traditions and revisited by contemporary science, plays a fundamental role in the organisation of matter. Far from being an outdated idea, ether is now back in the spotlight of scientific discourse. At the conference "The Materiality of Vacuum" in 2017, Nobel Prize winner Frank Wilczek stated:

"We are the children of the ether."

This statement highlights the growing recognition, even in academic circles, that the vacuum is not empty, but constitutes the true substance of the universe.

To illustrate this idea, an original comparison is necessary: the structure of space is to matter what water is to fish. A fish, immersed in water since its birth, does not perceive the liquid surrounding it, as it is so natural to it. Similarly, human beings evolve in an omnipresent field of energy and information, without being aware of it. Atoms, according to this view, would be like small vortices or whirlpools in this invisible fluid, giving rise to matter as we perceive it.

Research shows that the physics of vacuum is far from being a simple theory. Recent experiments confirm that the energy contained in a cubic centimetre of vacuum sometimes exceeds the total mass of the observable universe. Yet, this reality has long been ignored or minimised in classical teaching. It is only recently, thanks to researchers like Wilczek, that we are beginning to acknowledge the materiality of vacuum and its immense potential.

This perspective upends the traditional view of matter and the universe. It suggests that everything is connected, that the separation between objects, living beings, and even thoughts is merely an illusion. The information field of the void, omnipresent, would be the source of the organisation of matter, but also of consciousness. The brain, the heart, and other organs could function as "fractal quantum antennas", capturing and transmitting information through this invisible field.

Many ancient civilisations, from India to Hawaii, already spoke of this universal force under various names – prana, chi, manar. They regarded it as the source of life, omnipresent and omnipotent. Today, science is beginning to rediscover these intuitions, exploring the possibility of creating matter from the void, controlling gravity, or accessing a nearly infinite energy. These advances, once reserved for science fiction, could well become reality as our understanding of the void and information progresses.

The brain, biology, and the strange feedback of consciousness

From childhood, some curious minds question the nature of reality and consciousness, while most seem to accept the world as it is, without questioning the foundations of their own existence. This profound inquiry, often overlooked by traditional education, drives exploration beyond the classical paradigm that consciousness is simply a product of the brain.

The dominant view in neuroscience considers consciousness as an emanation of the brain, a consequence of neuronal activity and chemical interactions. However, voices are rising to challenge this perspective. The narrator, for example, after years of independent research and an atypical life experience, suggests that consciousness may not be confined to the brain. He argues that the human body, far from being a mere biological support, would function as a fractal quantum antenna, capable of capturing information from the void, that is to say, from the space which, according to modern physics, is not empty but filled with energy and information.

This concept of a fractal quantum antenna is inspired by current technologies, where fractal antennas allow for the capture of multiple frequencies. In the same way, the human body, through its structure and organisation, would be sensitive to the subtle information present in the universe. Emotional states, heart activity, or even the functioning of the stomach could influence the body's ability to receive or transmit this information. This aligns with the increasingly explored idea that matter and the information field are in constant interaction, creating a feedback that could be at the origin of self-reflective consciousness.

Biology, traditionally seen as distinct from physics, nonetheless shows a trend towards increasing organisation. The narrator emphasises that biological systems, when they reach a certain level of complexity, seem to develop a form of self-awareness. This observation calls into question the dominance of the concept of entropy in physics, which favours disorganisation, while life demonstrates a remarkable ability to create order from chaos. This is a point of friction between disciplines, often fragmented in education, whereas reality makes no such distinctions.

Another key point of this reflection is the notion of memory of space. According to this hypothesis, all the information of the universe would be contained within the very structure of space, particularly within the proton. This memory of space could explain certain phenomena of distant perception or distant influence on health, long relegated to the realm of anecdotes or pseudo-sciences. Yet, quantum physics has shown that information is never lost, which opens the door to the idea of a continuity of consciousness beyond the physical body.

Recent advances in physics, particularly thanks to researchers like Frank Wilczek, are bringing the concept of ether back into vogue, an omnipresent field of energy and information. Wilczek mentions the notion that we are the “children of the ether”, emphasising that space is not empty but full of a potential that is still largely untapped. Atoms, according to this view, would be vortices in this invisible fluid, interconnecting all the matter of the universe.

This approach aligns with ancient traditions that spoke of prana, chi, or manar, universal omnipresent forces. It invites us to rethink consciousness as a global phenomenon, emerging from the interaction between organized matter and a universal field of information. The human being, from this perspective, becomes both a receiver and an emitter, participating in a vast network of information exchanges that far exceeds the boundaries of the brain or even the body.

Thus, the question of consciousness remains open, oscillating between hard sciences, subjective experiences, and mysteries yet to be elucidated. Interdisciplinary research, by refusing the fragmentation of knowledge, seems to offer new avenues for understanding this strange feedback between biology, matter, and the information that animates the universe.

Lost civilisations, collective memory, and technological future

Since childhood, some curious minds have questioned the nature of reality, consciousness, and the very meaning of existence. This quest, often solitary, reveals a human tendency to accept the world as it presents itself, without questioning its foundations. Yet, throughout history, many civilisations have shared similar concepts around ether, prana, chi, or manar, all designating a universal, omnipresent force that animates matter and connects living beings. These notions, far from being mere beliefs, seem to resonate with certain modern discoveries in physics and biology.

The monuments left by vanished societies — pyramids, colossal statues, megaliths — testify to a know-how and an understanding of the world that sometimes exceed our current capabilities. The narrator, through his interdisciplinary research, questions the official version of human history. He suggests that these achievements could be the result of technologies and knowledge now lost, based on a deep understanding of the energy of the void and the organisation of matter. According to him, matter is not a separate entity, but an organised structure of space, animated by an omnipresent field of information. This idea, once marginalised, regains some legitimacy thanks to contemporary physicists like Frank Wilczek, who discusses the materiality of the void and the notion that "we are the children of the ether".

This perspective invites us to connect human consciousness to collective memory and the legacy of vanished civilisations. The ancients saw the universe as a connected whole, where consciousness was not merely a product of the brain, but a fundamental force, capable of capturing and transmitting information across space. The brain, the heart, and even the stomach would then be "fractal quantum antennas", sensitive to emotional states and capable of interacting with the structure of the void. This model, although speculative, resonates with certain contemporary research that studies consciousness as an emerging phenomenon of organised and interconnected systems.

The extrapolation of these ideas paves the way for fascinating technological scenarios: vacuum engineering, gravity control, the creation of matter from vacuum energy, or even interstellar travel. Advances that, according to the narrator, could radically transform our relationship with the planet and the universe. However, he emphasizes that human history seems marked by a cycle: each time a civilization reaches a technological level that surpasses its collective consciousness, it ultimately self-destructs. The universe would then act as a security system, preventing a species from harming the global balance.

In the face of these unexplored potentials, optimism and caution are essential. The future would depend on humanity's ability to recognise its unity, to collaborate, and to share the resources of the universe. Ancient civilizations would have anticipated a period of transformation, a moment when collective consciousness rises and allows for the emergence of more environmentally friendly technologies. But this change can only occur if a sufficient number of people adopt a new worldview, based on interconnectedness and responsibility.

In conclusion, collective memory, the remnants of the past, and recent scientific advances invite us to rethink the place of consciousness in the universe. The forgotten mysteries of lost civilisations may well hold the keys to a harmonious technological future, provided we cultivate optimism, curiosity, and caution. As the narrator reminds us, "isolation is an illusion, since everything is connected throughout the universe." The challenge remains open: to explore together the boundaries of consciousness and technology, without losing sight of our shared humanity.

TL;DR: Consciousness is neither a simple brain mechanism nor an isolated phenomenon: it would be the result of multiple interactions between biology, physics, cosmic memory, and the forgotten links of ancient civilisations.