putting our feet in concrete shoes and saying we can't jump. It's
　　　　  time to try on some different footwear."
　　　　  One Causality Project member told me, "the study of consciousness
　　　　  may require scientists who are willing to risk being transformed in
　　　　  the process of observation." Fetzer Foundation president Robert
　　　　  Lehman concurs: "We'll need investigators who can work more
　　　　  according to an old medieval notion: that to observe nature's deeper
　　　　  secrets, you must personally strive to create 'eyes to see, ears to
　　　　  hear.'"
　　　　  The Buddhist monks whose mediations raise their skin temperatures
　　　　  are not just performing a stunning biofeedback experiment but are,
　　　　  they tell us, practicing an inner science of compassion. The purpose
　　　　  of their inquiries into the body's most arcane chemistries is to
　　　　  transcend divisions between self and other, subject and
　　　　  object--dualities that one Buddhist translation refers to as
　　　　  "primitive beliefs about reality." Similarly, physicists at
　　　　  Princeton's PEAR lab, whose experiments seem to indicate that mind
　　　　  may affect subatomic particles, have concluded there is now "a need
　　　　  on the part of science to soften the boundary between 'I' and 'not
　　　　  I.'"
　　　　  The Buddhist monks, and increasingly some adventurous physicists,
　　　　  biologists, and doctors, represent a radical new model of science,
　　　　  one that does not posit inviolable distinctions between spirit and
　　　　  matter, perceiver and perceived. The new paradigm may well deem any
　　　　  models of reality that deny the intersubjectivity of existence to be
　　　　  fundamentally unscientific.
　　　　  The glory of science has always been its commitment to "follow the
　　　　  data" on a quest for the unadorned, replicable, verifiable truth.
　　　　  But what if the data have begun leading us to a truth more marvelous
　　　　  than we, in our scientific "reality" of isolated egos, dead physical
　　　　  nature, and decoupled mind and body, have imagined?
　　　　  Here at the close of the second millenium, sometime between the
　　　　  world-fragmenting fall from Babel and the Last Trump, we search for
　　　　  a unifying Theory of Everything, still ignorant--in some ways,
　　　　  willfully--of where we ourselves fit into the astonishing world of
　　　　  cells, particles, and parsecs we have discovered. Too often,
　　　　  perhaps, our measure of mind, body, and nature has been a little
　　　　  like pre-Columbian maps of a flat Earth: cutting off boundaries at
　　　　  the visible horizon, ignoring the Mercator projections of the soul,