Two ideas that have been rolling around in my head lately are the corporeal fantasy—overcoming the physical limitations of the human body—and the idea of consciousness.
Consciousness
I have a question (or maybe several) about consciousness. The first one to address is, What is it?
Billie Eilish has a song called "bury a Friend." The lyrics in part say,
"What do you want from me?
Why don't you run from me?
What are you wondering?
What do you know?
Why aren't you scared of me?
Why do you care for me?
When we all fall asleep, where do we go?"
Eilish asks a great question about consciousness there: "When we all fall asleep, where do we go?” I’m going out on a limb here and say that she’s addressing sleep, not death (see the video below). However, I could be wrong. The question still stands. What happens to “us” or our “consciousness” when we are in deep, dreamless sleep? Where are “we”? Moreover, where is our consciousness?
Have you ever been put under anesthesia? Where do “you” go? Where is your awareness or consciousness then? Is that what death is like?
Do we “die” every night if we go into deep, dreamless sleep? It’s an intriguing question to think about.
Somniphobia is the extreme fear of sleep. I wonder if the underlying reason for that phobia is death or death anxiety.
“50 Million Years Ago,” 12 × 9 acrylic and mixed media— October 2025
50 million years ago, you walked upon this planet so
god of all that you could see, just a little bit like me
The Police
The Corporeal Fantasy Concept
How is “corporeal fantasy” defined? The term refers to the symbolic and psychological structures we construct to cope with the reality of our bodily existence, including its vulnerability, decay, and ultimate mortality. The corporeal fantasy serves as a kind of defense mechanism or imaginative framework that allows us to transcend, obscure, or deny the limitations imposed by our physical being.
This fantasy can manifest in cultural ideals of beauty, strength, and health, portraying the body as invulnerable or eternal. Many corporeal fantasies are linked to the idea of symbolic immortality (more later), where individuals seek to live on through their legacy, cultural impact, or even through religious or spiritual beliefs.
Becker doesn’t use the term corporeal fantasy, but his work provides a foundation for understanding it. He argues that much of human culture is built around denying the reality of death, with the body representing the primary site of this denial. Symbolic immortality, achieved through religion, art, or legacy, can be seen as a form of corporeal fantasy.
You’ve probably heard me talk about our animality. This also fascinates me. How we deny our animal nature. The things we do are beyond bizarre when you deconstruct them. We want to think of ourselves as above the animal. Why is that? Well, we know what happens to animals: they die. Animals are part of nature, and nature also can bring anxiety to the forefront. We tend to like suburbs and cities more when reminded of death (The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life).
"We live in a world where the body—a biological creature that lives and dies—is a source of both shame and fear, a reminder of our helpless animal condition." Ernest Becker The Denial of Death.
Becker often emphasized that "animality" is not just about the physicality of humans but also about their instinctual drives, which are at odds with their symbolic capacity for meaning. This conflict, he argued, underpins much of human anxiety and culture itself.
The authors of The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life expand on Ernest Becker’s ideas and explore how humans deal with their awareness of mortality and their "animality"—the aspects of themselves that tie them to the natural, physical world. They explain how people use cultural worldviews (meaning systems), self-esteem, and symbolic immortality to transcend their animal nature.
Cultural worldviews, or meaning systems, are systems of belief that provide meaning, significance, order, and a sense of permanence. These help people feel they are part of something larger and enduring, distancing themselves from their physical, mortal nature. They also push back on our animality.
It's fascinating to see how some people take offense when someone refers to humans as animals. For me, this is simply a statement about our biological condition. What makes us different than any other animal? Biologically speaking, nothing.
Denying our animality is part of our evolutionary system of denying and lying about our condition. We loathe calling ourselves animals—it’s an insult to us. We do everything we can to rise above it—we strive for immortality because the thought of not existing anymore is unbearable. One of my favorite quotes is from the 19th-century French poet Arthur Rimbaud. He said, “The only unbearable thing is that nothing is unbearable.“ The feedback loop is ever present with these ideas and our condition.
Self-esteem acts as a buffer against existential anxiety by affirming a person’s value within their cultural framework. People work hard to gain social approval, promotions, awards, and other signs of worth that elevate them above "mere animals." Identifying as more virtuous or righteous than others reinforces a sense of transcendence over physicality and mortality. A kind of moral superiority.
Humans seek ways to leave a lasting impact that will outlive their physical bodies. This involves engaging in projects or pursuits that symbolically defy mortality. Artists create works to achieve immortality by being remembered for their contributions. Having children is a biological and symbolic way of extending oneself into the future (legacies). And many seek to build or contribute to structures, ideas, or movements that endure beyond their lives (legacies).
Many religions promise an afterlife, eternal soul, or reincarnation, offering the hope of escaping the finality of death. Patriotism ties individuals to a legacy that transcends their own lives, making them part of an enduring collective.
Whatever illusion, myth, or immortality project you use to get through each day doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you have one—at least one. When your culture doesn’t provide people with constructs to lean on, individuals will become depressed, anxious, or have other mental health issues. These illusions are important. However, when challenged or threatened, these illusions can also lead to significant issues.
Religions and political positions come to mind. Threatening someone else's religious beliefs or having yours threatened can ignite wars. Same with politics or any dogma. We’ve witnessed this every day throughout the world for millennia.
It’s essential to be self-aware about your differences with others. And when your construct or belief system is challenged, and it will be, you need to be hypervigilant about how you respond. That’s the essence of what I’m concerned about today.
The world is in chaos today. Some might argue it’s always been this way, and I wouldn’t disagree. It seems more palpable because of technology now. We’re aware; we hear about it even if we don’t want to. I believe this chaos—whether it’s Russia and Ukraine, Israel and Palestine, or America’s huge political divide—red versus blue—all stems from threatened cultural worldviews or meaning systems. They are all responses to having meaning systems challenged by something different.
This is where Becker and TMT hit the nail on the head. If you point to a conflict between human beings, I can show you the psychological underpinnings of that conflict 99% of the time. It’s simple for me to see this, and I wonder why so many can’t. Am I off? Am I wrong? If I am, I’m open to correction.
"Each person nourishes his immortality in the ideology of self-perpetuation to which he gives self-allegiance; this gives life the only abiding significance it can have. No wonder men go into a rage over fine points of belief: if your adversary wins the argument about truth, you die. Your immortality system has been shown to be fallible, your life becomes fallible." Ernest Becker, Escape from Evil