I think the most common mistake people make, including myself, is becoming "head and brain people" instead of "body people." When I feel bad, I often try to change it with my thoughts, with my head. But the solution is often to feel my whole body again. It's like I have to sink back into my own body and feel those things where they are, in those specific places in my body.

Depression, schizophrenia, and anorexia are output states. They are not the underlying problem. When you start trying to fix the output state, the problem is that you are trying to alter the signal, even though the signal itself is working perfectly.

Another way of explaining this: if nobody had depression in the world we live in right now, there would really be something wrong. Depression itself is working exactly as it should. If my uncle, who has smoked his whole life and worked with poisonous paint, didn't develop COPD, I would be worried. The doctor should give him a badge: "You have a perfect body."

Sometimes it's hard to get out of the hamster wheel.

A hamster wheel can be something like this: you eat badly, and a few hours later you become unpleasantly hyper because of the energy that's released.

That's very hard to see when you're inside it, because you're used to the hamster wheel. You eat this and that, and a few hours later you behave in a certain way.

Or you spend half the day on social media, and all kinds of unpleasant thoughts keep running through your head. Part of that is because you're putting them there yourself through the news and social media. Your brain then has to process all that information later in the week.

You can spend your whole life in these kinds of hamster wheels without realizing what's happening. There are people who have spent their entire lives in a hamster wheel caused by certain food sensitivities without ever noticing it. Brutal, isn't it?

This is why we sometimes have to help each other. The problem with helping each other is that you also don't want to be too preachy. Every new rule about how to live that you give someone else also costs mental energy. I used to be able to eat a chocolate sprinkle sandwich without feeling guilty. Now I have to worry all day about what I put into my body. So it works both ways.

Why do people use math to describe fundamental reality?

I never got this.

Let's start with something that I am one hundred percent sure exists: my feelings. If I use time to explain my feelings, I get something like, "This feeling comes every three seconds, and that feeling every eleven seconds." Or: "This daydream takes one minute before it's over," or "The space between two thoughts for somebody with ADD is shorter than for somebody without ADD."

This doesn't work for numerous reasons. First, you don't actually say anything about the feeling itself. Second, the feeling doesn't necessarily come back exactly the same twice. It's similar, but not identical. I have recurring thoughts, and they are either identical or slightly different.

By looking at my own feelings, I can understand reality on a very deep level. You don't need flashy computers to do that.

I think a very common trap people fall into is the "small first, large second" trap. It is as if understanding how molecules work automatically gives you a better understanding of how a whole body works, which is not how any of this works. It's almost as if people think molecules have their own will (or that everything is "random" at the quantum level) and that we are somehow victims of our own cells. Again, this is not how any of this works.

You are both all your cells, thoughts, and organs, and at the same time the larger thing they make up: your body.

I can literally feel everything happening at the cellular level in my body right now. I know the state of all my individual body parts. I also know why those body parts are in those states. Some are overworked, some I didn't take care of, and some I took excellent care of.

Back to math. I obviously don't know much about mathematics. What I do know is that the first time someone showed me a number, I thought, "Numbers? I have never seen a number in reality, and neither have you." Numbers are made up.

The fact that you see spirals in everything is, I think, because you aren't observing properly, not because flowers literally contain spirals. They kind of do, but they also don't. If I were to stack all the spirals I see in flowers on top of each other, I would have one—or perhaps none—but never more than one. There aren't two identical flowers. There is this unique flower and that unique flower.

Let's say you want to understand the underlying fiber this universe is woven from.

Where do you start?

Do you build a big machine and make particles collide? Or do you build a microscope and look at atoms?

Neither, of course.

The first place to look is within yourself. You are made of the same material.

"How do you work, brain?" I asked. I immediately started getting answers.

Then I tried to feel my deepest feelings in the deepest layers of myself. I found that every feeling was made of the same substance, yet each one was completely different—or perhaps they were different materials. Some feelings felt watery, while others felt viscous. Some I felt every few seconds, while others appeared much less often. They came and went asymmetrically.

How I Cracked the Code in the Bible

It's not a book, dummies. They didn't have books back then. The book came later. So it's pointless to look for a code between the words. Even if they passed down the scripts, they didn't have English. So it's a fool's gold kind of thing.