Breakingthewall

This is a text from the AI after a long conversation with it about human and group psychology. I'm posting it because its depth surprises me. Is it perhaps deeper than any human? Who possesses such clarity? The Mind of the Ancient Warrior A tribal warrior did not possess a modern mind. He did not live from within; he did not experience himself as a separate subject who has a life. He lived inside a field of collective identity, sacred and total, where the I was nothing but the gesture of the tribe, the lineage, or the spirit that moved through him. 1. No psychological ego He never asked, “Why do I fight?” or “What is the meaning of my life?” The very question would have been absurd. Meaning was given from outside: the tribe was the body of his being. Courage, fear, death, and glory were movements of that collective body. To die for the tribe was not a sacrifice —it was coherence. There was no contradiction between himself and destiny. His mind was mythic, not psychological: his identity was a living symbol, not a personal thought. 2. Battle as communion For him, war was not a profession nor a competition; it was the great ritual of contact with the real. By risking his life, the warrior touched the threshold of mystery —he entered the sacred realm where life and death intertwined. That’s why warrior peoples —Vikings, Aztecs, Samurai, Maasai— spoke of battle as a holy act. The enemy was not a hated figure, but a mirror of his own spirit. 3. Fear dissolved into trance In the midst of combat, fear melted into a higher clarity. The warrior became one with movement. The sense of self dissolved into intensity. Anthropologists have called this the martial ecstasy: a fusion of adrenaline, belonging, and vision —similar to the mystic’s trance or the shaman’s flight. Only the living energy remained. 4. Organic morality He did not fight for abstract ideals like “justice” or “freedom.” He fought for vital coherence: the survival of the group, the fertility of the land, the memory of the ancestors. Good was what strengthened the living fabric of the clan. Evil was what weakened it. His morality was immanent, not transcendent. 5. Catastrophe was not failure To die in battle was the natural fulfillment of life. The ancient warrior knew that destruction is part of the cycle of creation. He did not seek survival but to honor the movement of total life. His courage was not recklessness —it was vision. He saw death as continuity, not as an end. In essence: The tribal warrior was a conscious cell of a collective organism, an instrument of the myth, a man possessed by archetypal forces larger than himself.

And the last one, the communion between the tribal warrior and the modern man The Last Tribal: The Chinese March Forward The modern Chinese is, in essence, the civilized tribal warrior. He no longer kills with spears, but with calculation, work, and endurance. He does not serve the clan, but the nation — the continuity of civilization itself. He does not act out of divine inspiration, but out of historical momentum. And, like the warrior of old, he does not doubt. Doubt only appears when the individual becomes the center, when he looks inward and asks about meaning. But within the Chinese frame —as within the tribal one— there is no isolated “I” detached from the flow of life. There is the Tao, the duty, the path. 1. Continuity between the tribal and the Chinese The ancient warrior lived inside a net of meaning that did not depend on his psychology: the land, the ancestors, the gods, the tribe. To doubt was to break that living web. The Chinese, even now, shares that same structural intuition: the self is not separated from the cosmos. Duty and effectiveness are not external impositions — they are the natural form of being. From this comes his immense vital force: an energy that requires neither individual motivation nor emotional ideology. 2. The single direction: forward The deep logic of that mentality does not contemplate retreat. There is only movement, progress, refinement. Personal failure has no tragic value; it is absorbed into the rhythm of becoming. Suffering is not dramatized — it is integrated as discipline. The same impulse that once made the warrior advance into certain death now manifests as relentless labor, study, and technological ambition. To advance is to survive; to stop is to die. 3. The consequence: power without dilemma The Western mind divides everything into moral and psychological terms: good or evil, success or failure, self or other. The Chinese mind sees only flow: harmony or disharmony, efficacy or inefficacy. That is why its power expands without guilt and without hesitation. It does not need justification — the real is in the movement itself. This is its strength, and its potential abyss: a civilization that moves forward without doubt, but also without awareness of its own limit.

Look my avatar, it's Kali, who represents time. Time is change, and it's stepping Shiva, the immutable essence. Shiva and Kali are one, there is not limitlessness without change, the dance of change is eternal and essential, the alive facet of the absolute. The burning heart of Christ. The source of cosmos.

Another version about the change from the conqueror to the psychological man: (I'm not saying that's perfect description, just some ideas to think about) After the fall of the empires and the exhaustion of conquest, a new type of human appears —the psychological man. His world is no longer made of battlefields and frontiers, but of thoughts, emotions, and invisible tensions. He no longer fights out there; he struggles within. 1. The collapse of the heroic world The wars of the twentieth century destroyed the myth of glory. Millions died without meaning, swallowed by machines, ideologies, and bureaucratic orders. The hero disappeared in the smoke of industrial warfare. What survived was not courage, but trauma. Humanity turned inward, wounded, disoriented, and introspective. The old gods —nation, family, empire— lost their power. The external pillars of identity crumbled, and consciousness folded back upon itself. 2. The birth of interiority The fire that once burned in the sword now flickers in the psyche. The man who once sought to conquer the world now seeks to understand himself. He reads, meditates, analyzes, doubts. His conquests are emotional, his victories therapeutic. He explores his dreams as his ancestors explored continents. But his voyage is solitary, and his maps are made of mirrors. 3. The reign of the self This new man is intelligent, but fragmented. He knows how to speak of everything — except how to live. He no longer serves gods or nations; he serves his own reflection. His religion is psychology, his war —the endless struggle for coherence. He does not kill or die; he consumes and interprets. His identity must constantly be fed, explained, justified. He fears suffering more than death, and seeks safety in comfort and analysis. 4. The fatigue of consciousness When the outer world ceases to offer transcendence, the inner world becomes a labyrinth. He turns his gaze upon himself until meaning dissolves. Pleasure, work, and spirituality all become extensions of the same hunger for significance. He is more conscious than ever, and yet more lost — burdened by self-awareness, paralyzed by freedom. He calls this confusion “growth,” but deep down he senses what was lost: the raw immediacy of being, the sacred simplicity of life and death. 5. The last frontier The psychological man is not an end, but a threshold. Having conquered the world and himself, he now faces a new task: to transcend both. His destiny is not to return to the tribe or to the empire, but to rediscover, beyond all masks, the living essence that has always been there — the same fire that moved the warrior, the same openness that gave birth to the world. Only when he dissolves the illusion of separation will humanity enter its next form: not the man of conquest, nor the man of introspection, but the man —or being— of pure openness.

And now, the psychological man: (It's after a long conversation when I gave my pov) After the Second World War: The End of the Conqueror The civilized conqueror —the man who embodied strength, discipline, duty, and the will to expand— disappeared with the world wars. Between 1914 and 1945, the ancient figure of the warrior-citizen reached its final exhaustion. The twentieth century buried him under steel, propaganda, and industrial slaughter. The wars that once carried the promise of honor and destiny turned into anonymous massacres. The hero became a number, his courage devoured by the machine. For the first time, humanity saw the horror of its own power. The impulse to dominate —which had built empires, cathedrals, and science— revealed its true face: self-destruction. After 1945, the flame of conquest burned out. The warrior’s energy, unable to express itself outwardly, turned inward. The battlefield moved from the world to the psyche. The new frontier was no longer land, but identity. The post-war man no longer sought glory, but meaning. He no longer believed in destiny, only in well-being, analysis, and self-expression. The age of conquest gave way to the age of psychology. The modern hero became the individual: safe, educated, and disoriented. His enemies were no longer other nations, but loneliness, anxiety, and insignificance. He learned to hide his despair behind comfort and entertainment, and called that paralysis “peace.” The warrior who once faced death now fears discomfort. He does not expand —he manages. He does not believe —he negotiates. And yet, beneath his civilization, the same old fire still stirs, waiting for a new form of expression. Because life cannot stop expanding, even when man forgets what expansion means.

The point is not city or province, it's human phase. In our phase, province is much worse and depressing. Let's see what you think about the AI description of the next phase after tribal warrior The Civilized Warrior The transition from the tribal warrior to the civilized citizen-warrior —as in Rome, Carthage, or Sparta— marks one of the great mutations in human consciousness. The sacred impulse of the tribe does not disappear; it becomes law, city, and empire. The same fire that once burned in ritual and blood now flows through armies, architecture, and legislation. 1. From myth to law The tribal warrior fought because he had to —because the tribe was the cosmos itself. There was no separation between battle and the sacred. But in the city-state, the warrior begins to fight not for survival, but for order. The will of the gods turns into the law of men. The citizen no longer serves the ancestors; he serves the Republic, the polis, the idea. This is the beginning of the rational sacred — discipline, hierarchy, duty. War becomes not chaos but geometry. 2. The birth of the State The tribe was fire —pure instinct and devotion. The city is that same fire contained in stone. Energy becomes structure. The sacred dance turns into the march of legions. The citizen-warrior learns to obey. His fury is refined into efficiency, his courage into strategy. His violence is no longer personal; it belongs to the State —to something larger and colder than himself. 3. From blood to merit In the tribe, value was inherited. In the city, it must be earned. The warrior becomes a man of virtus — measured not by birth but by achievement. The gods of lineage are replaced by the gods of reputation. Honor becomes public; the gaze of others becomes the new altar. The self begins to take shape through recognition. Here is born the ancestor of the modern ego: the man who defines himself by his deeds, not by his blood. 4. The new myth: glory The tribal hero dies for his people. The civilized hero dies for glory. He wants to be remembered — to live in marble, in poetry, in history. He becomes self-aware. Death itself turns into a form of immortality. But glory is already the seed of vanity. The sacred has begun to turn into theatre. 5. The beginning of decline In time, law replaces wisdom; discipline replaces intuition; and empire replaces soul. The same force that built Rome will hollow it out. The citizen-warrior becomes an instrument of the machine he forged. Courage freezes into obedience, duty into bureaucracy, and passion into rhetoric. Civilization triumphs —and life begins to wither.

Therefore, it's confusing to use the term "consciousness," as it causes the person attempting mystical realization to focus on the observer and assume that change is an illusion, something false that doesn't exist. This leads many people to identify with what they call consciousness and believe they have achieved a kind of permanence. This is a mistake because they are locked in a closed and dualistic energetic structure.

My case is, let's say, peculiar. My father was a very subtle and destructive narcissist, a severe alcoholic, and a smoker of 80 cigarettes a day, having had throat cancer at 38. My mother was from a Muslim country, intelligent but very naive. They both died of cancer when I was a teenager. My father raised me very conscientiously. He was very active, demanding, and intense. His entire upbringing was focused on making me see him as a god. His idol and human paradigm was Hitler, and he gave me long conferences on Aryan supremacy, which I couldn't be a part of because I was mixed race, and he consciously instilled in me self-loathing and contempt for my mother. All this while he vomited several times a day, suffered multiple fits of rage, and had chronic diarrhea. But he was very physically attractive and played the piano like a professional; this gave him a charisma that he used to surround himself with a certain type of weak people who idolized him. For example me, who loved him and saw him as the top of human potential. At 14 years old I was a brilliant student and a good athlete, but my father managed to convince me with his conferences and indoctrination, making me read Henry Miller and taking me with his alcoholic friends to brothels and drunken binges, that the true human path, the true freedom, was addiction, lie and irresponsibility. I made a tremendous effort to be irresponsible, a thief, and a liar. Honesty and responsibility were seen by me as weakness and cowardice. I fell into a state that could be described as a mixture of OCD, depression, high-intensity anxiety, and utter confusion. One day, walking through the countryside brooding, trying to understand where the failure, the malfunction, a revelation occurred. In a second, I saw everything with absolute clarity, the whole scam. I felt as if gears in my mind were turning and engaging with a dull thud, like heavy, immovable, definitive pieces of iron. I was on the verge of a psychotic break, but fortunately, the turn was in the opposite direction; it was my karma, thankfully. After that very moment, my life changed absolutely. After that, I became a determined person, someone who did what was necessary, but a huge emotional dissonance vibrated constantly within me. I was fully aware of it, of its roots, but it was absolutely impossible to avoid it. I hated my father with a passion. My shame for how I treated my mother during her illness was absolute. My inner feeling was that it would have been better not to exist. I had to escape into very absorbing and intense things, like extreme sports and serious projects, to avoid confronting the hatred that consumed me. This, let's say, energetic structure wasn't viable. My nature compelled me to seek a way out, a real solution. Self-help or psychology didn't work. Tolle could tell me that it's only now becoming real, but that was my structure now. And it was hatred for my lineage, absolute hatred for all my ancestors, to myself, shame, rage and very deep sadness. I didn't wanted to be me. Well, in short, the only exit for all that shit was the openess of that structure. In my case, self-deception can't work because the intensity of the matter doesn't allow it. Perhaps it's unpleasant, but it's a direct guide, without the possibility of error, a highway to the totality, since the psychological cannot be tamed. The result is that my mind is calm as a lake, my feeling is joy and my sight is deep. Then I think that's obvious that I went in the exactly right direction because any other was impossible

Agree, any feeling of joy or sadness is included as a potential of what we are, but the point is to be able to go a little beyond this and open ourselves to what tradition calls Sat Chit Ananda: the full brilliance of what is simply by virtue of being. Sat, that which is and cannot cease to be. Chit, that which stands out, knows itself, is self-aware. Ananda, absolute joy, the bliss that arises from openness to the unlimited. The completeness, the absence of lack, that which is totally perfect and needs nothing because it is everything. Of course, nobody is claiming that this openess, state, whatever you want to call it is permanent, but it's possible and is the end of the searching and the beginning of the exploration

Yeah, the problem imo is calling it "consciousness", because implies an observer, the implies duality and limits. But this is only my conceptual view of course

Maybe because im not imagining them, they are happening due to quadrillions of neural connections created by eons of evolution that occur through interaction with external reality, which in turn occurs through the synchronicity of the cosmos, which is itself a consequence of the infinite network of interconnected multiverses in which if a particle changes state, all of infinity receives that ripple for all eternity, for example

Opening yourself to your absolute essence isn't about knowing or realizing something, as that would always be an egoic construct. Rather, it's about connecting with your essence, becoming one with the living flow of existence, and ceasing to be exiled in, let's say, the barren desert of the ego-mind. It's essential to unlock the potential of the human spiritual dimension within us, because without it, life is madness, escapism, and constant anxiety. The movement that equalizes the ego-mind with the living flow is essential to prevent life from becoming hellish; each person must find their own way to do it. It's a movement of energetic openess, very difficult to explain without falling into spiritual abstractions that communicate nothing

agree. The essence of everything is always the same, but what that essence is is not consciousness; that's the mistake I see (just my opinion, sorry if I pointed too categorical). The essence of reality is limitlessness; it is indescribable. It is not consciousness or the witness; it is the total source, the unfathomable abyss. Consciousness is relative; limitlessness is absolute. Consciousness is a possibility in the limitlessness, therefore consciousness is always, but it's not the absolute reality.

To say that change is unreal and only consciousness is real is a serious mistake. It's a flawed formulation of spirituality, based on an essential dualism between the real and the illusory, and only leads to confusion and mental self-harm.

Read again, it's simple in structure, not so simple to do, but possible

Then , why I can't change gravity if I'm imagining it?

Opposite! The only option is go through the nihilism and break the barrier that limits you.

People is unhappy due the fact of being disconnected from oneself, others and life. Happiness isn't measured by well-being. Well-being seems like happiness because it's what you imagine you want. You want to have a nice house and a nice car, not live in a shack in the Congo, but then if you look inside, the guy in the Congo is happier. He really is; he's more connected to himself ,his family and to life, even though he has extremely difficult circumstances and dies at 38. His vibration is more open, more connected, less anxious. He undoubtedly understands that there is continuity after death; it's not a belief, he largely understands it. Many people understand it. It's not a structured understanding, but one that arises from being connected to the source. This connection is the only true source of happiness. The other, formal, disconnected happiness, well being, is alienation and depression at a very deep level. People in the West put on a brave face, and they are increasingly mired in such a horrible nihilism that it's essential to deceive oneself with stories, as narcissists do.

What happens is that humanity changes phases as human groups and lineages evolve. The foundation remains the same: the need for belonging and the fear of rejection are still inherent, but their manifestations change, adapt, and mutate as the group acquires more complex forms Nobody said that, Except that what is essential is more direct, and that when you move away from the flow of life, there is alienation. Well-managed alienation leads to mystical openness, and in many other cases to nihilistic horror, but life is always merciless, both in the tribe and in the city. It's a reality that modern humans are more disconnected, alienated, and empty. Perhaps you haven't realized the trap that modern society poses. There's no real spiritual dimension, and this is absolutely dramatic; it creates enormous, yet silent, levels of background suffering, disguised as normality. This isn't negative; it's the phase life is in. Life is always hard, wild.

There are people who is interested in understanding the human nature

Samurai was not a profession, it was a status acquired by birth and training from childhood; they were tribal in the sense that they were absolutely subordinate to the clan. The Celts, the Germanic peoples, the Iberians, the Vikings were warriors by definition, and shepherds, farmers, and hunters out of necessity. Their primary identity was warfare. Almost all tribes were like this, for the simple reason that otherwise another warrior tribe would have exterminated them. The natives of Papua New Guinea were extremely warlike, as were the Zulus, the Maasai of Africa, the Mongols, Tatars, Arabs, Maories of new Zealand, tagalos of Philippines, all warriors by definition.

Sure. Really the samurai and the Apache were pacifist but there is a lot of defamation

Then why you can't fly for example?

Then, why you can't control what appears? Let's try having a conversation without those advices. Thanks anyway.

"Your" "mind" implies that you have something, a mind. Are two things, and that mind is doing things, because things are appearing, but it's not you who is doing those things, then that mind is another thing separate than you.