The Living Dead

How to Escape the Death Machine of Modern Culture (Breaking Open: Part 4)

This series emerges from conversations with friends and Claude AI, drawing deeply from the wisdom of David J Temple's CosmoErotic Humanism, Rob Burbea's Soulmaking Dharma, Steve March's Aletheia Unfolding, Daniel P Brown's attachment theory work, John Churchill's Planetary Dharma, and many insights from Jill Nephew. While their teachings light the path, any limitations in expressing their ideas are my own.

Every morning, millions of us wake up and immediately check our phones. We track our sleep quality, optimize our morning routines, measure our productivity. At lunch, we count calories or macros. After work, we quantify our exercise, monitor our heart rate variability, engineer our relaxation. We're constantly logging, measuring, improving - treating our lives as systems to be optimized, our bodies as machines to be tuned, our minds as software to be upgraded.

What does it mean to be alive? Not just biologically functioning, but truly alive - present, responsive, moved by love and meaning? This question becomes increasingly urgent as we notice how many of us are walking through life in a kind of trance, technically alive but existentially dead.

The Technological Attunement

The prevailing way of being in our culture is what we might call the technological attunement.¹ In this mode, everything becomes technology - a resource to be optimized, improved, or discarded. Our bodies become biological machines to be hacked. Our relationships become social technologies to be managed. Our minds become computers to be programmed. Even our spiritual practices become techniques for self-improvement.

This technological lens creates a peculiar kind of suffering. When we treat ourselves and others as technology, we subject ourselves to technology's logic: we can malfunction and break, become obsolete, require constant optimization. This way of relating conceals the profound wonder of human nature beneath layers of measurement and control. We become what Gurdjieff called "automatic man" - beings operated by complex and mostly opaque systems of justification and reactive compensations.

There are things the automatic man can say about why they do what they do, and there are many things they cannot say, truths they cannot face. Their motivational system becomes a maze of self-deception, each strategy designed to avoid facing the raw reality of their situation. A psyche dominated in this way by the technological attunement becomes a barren wasteland. Think Mad Max: toxic shame poisoning the landscape, relationships reduced to transaction, the self treated as a machine to be optimized. Only occasional oases of genuine connection break through this desert of meaningless survival.

The Architecture of Deadness

Think about how we move through our days. How much of our life is spent trying to optimize, improve, or fix rather than simply being with what is? How often do we treat our emotions as problems to be solved rather than experiences to be had? Our protective patterns - the ways we've learned to manage and control our experience - become what we think of as our personality, our desires, even our spiritual aspirations. We might become highly successful, even seemingly "enlightened," while remaining fundamentally alienated from the raw intelligence of our being.

At the root of this alienation lies frozen pain - the accumulated trauma of a world that appeared to have no place for our tender, living hearts. Early experiences taught us that certain feelings were unsafe, certain needs unwelcome, certain parts of ourselves unacceptable. We developed elaborate strategies to avoid feeling these things, creating intricate systems of self-deception and control. These frozen parts of ourselves contain pain, confusion, and vulnerability that seems unbearable to our constructed identity.

The Path Back to Life

But there is a way back to life. The first step is both simple and devastating: we must confront how dead we've become. This recognition itself begins to thaw the frozen territory of our psyche. As we develop enough safety to feel what we've been avoiding, life naturally begins to flow again. This isn't something we can achieve technologically - we can't optimize or engineer our way back to aliveness. In fact, the very attempt to do so keeps us trapped in the technological attunement that caused our deadness in the first place.

The process is more like thawing - a natural unfolding that occurs when conditions allow. Just as frozen water melts when temperature and pressure shift, our frozen psychic material begins to flow when we feel safe enough to experience what we've been avoiding. This is why simple presence - the capacity to be with what is without trying to fix or change it - is so fundamental to healing.

The Cultural Dimension

But here we encounter a collective dimension to our predicament. Our culture systematically creates conditions hostile to this thawing process. We're surrounded by messages that reinforce the technological attunement: optimize yourself, upgrade your life, biohack your consciousness. Even our attempts at healing trauma often become additional technologies of self-improvement. The left hemisphere of our brain, with its preference for control and categorization, has become dominant in our culture, while the right hemisphere's capacity for wholeness and living relationship is systematically suppressed.

This is the essence of the meaning crisis. When we relate to everything technologically - including ourselves, others, and reality itself - we drain the world of meaning. No amount of optimization or achievement can compensate for this loss of living contact with reality.

This is where we begin to see the political dimension of deadness. The technological attunement isn't just a personal pattern - it's a form of social control. A population of automatic people, disconnected from their authentic desires and natural intelligence, is easy to manipulate and exploit. Their protective patterns become mechanical responses, human suffering reliably transformed into profit.

The Revolutionary Potential of Aliveness

The revolutionary potential of coming back to life can't be overstated. A person who is truly alive - who has reclaimed their capacity for wonder, love, and authentic response - threatens the entire machinery of consumption and control. They can no longer be manipulated through their compensatory patterns. They no longer need what the market is selling because they've found what they were really looking for all along.

This return to life requires new forms of community - spaces where we can remember together what it means to be truly alive. These might be spiritual communities, artistic collaborations, therapeutic relationships, or simply groups of friends who dare to meet each other as living poetry rather than social technologies. Just as our deadness is maintained by cultural patterns, our return to life must be supported by new cultural forms that prioritize presence over performance, authenticity over achievement, and living relationship over technological control.

The Way Forward

We cannot think our way out of the technological attunement. We cannot optimize our way back to life. We can only create conditions where our natural aliveness can re-emerge, where what appears dead can remember its fundamental vitality. This remembering happens through the body, through relationship, through direct contact with the raw reality of our experience. It happens when we dare to feel what we've been avoiding, to face what we've been denying, to welcome what we've been rejecting.

In the next piece, we'll explore how creating conditions of safety makes this remembering possible, and how the journey from deadness to aliveness requires a fundamental shift in our relationship with reality itself.

Work with me: I offer one-on-one guidance helping people develop secure attachment with reality through deep unfoldment work. If this resonates, explore working together

1. The concept of the technological attunement was originally developed by Martin Heidegger and elaborated by Steve March, whose work has deeply influenced this understanding.