I get where you're going with that analogy. It's a bit awkward, just because, as you did, you have to stipulate shelter as opposed to the sheltered area, but with that stipulation it does work, and quite well really.

And as analogies should be, it's intriguing.

But...

My first reaction is that it's sort of similar to the "consciousness is an illusion" concept in that it appears to just move the problem back one step rather than solve it.

It seems to me that what you're describing is the "space" (or maybe "framework would be better) in which consciousness takes place, but not consciousness itself.

The problem then (as is the problem with the consciousness is an illusion idea) is that that space/framework/whatever is only of note if a consciousness is introduced.

At the risk of bringing in too many metaphors, it's akin to the "tree falling in a forest" thought experiment. The tree falling in the forest certainly generates disturbances in the air that, were there ears to hear them, would register as sound. But without ears to hear them, they're just disturbances in the air. Similarly, it seems to me that the "shelter" that's apparently intrinsic to the brain is only rightly considered "shelter" if there's a consciousness to experience it. Without a consciousness to experience it, it's just a space/framework/whatever.

Anyway, do you believe there is any ingredient to consciousness other than the physically of the brain?

I believe that consciousness in and of itself is obviously that.

I probably should've clarified - when I say "consciouness," I'm referring to the state/process that's at least one step removed from immediate perception.

I see a round red thing and recognize it to be food. That's just perception.

I also recognize it to be the thing called an "apple" (in English - other languages have other words). I know that they grow on trees and come in many varieties, and I remember the tree in the side yard of the house I grew up in and how the apples were small and yellow and very good, but I had to generally get a ladder to get any apples, since the deer ate the ones close to the ground (and the ones on the ground, which at least meant I didn't have to worry about cleaning them up), oh yeah and mom had a recipe for raw apple cake and it was delicious, but she bought the apples for that because the ones from the tree were too firm and tangy to bake with... and so on.

That's the part that, to me, corresponds with the "shelter" in your analogy.

But that's still not consciousness.

Consciousness is the apparently entirely non-physical "audience" to all of that - the "I" that's aware of the process as it's happening.

For example, it's not the part that recognizes an apple, or the part that categorizes it as food, or even the part that remembers the apple tree and the cake and feels nostalgia - it's the part that's one step removed from all of that - the internal "audience" (of one) that observes that "I" am experiencing all of that.

And it seems to me that your view accounts for all of those subsidiary things, but doesn't account for the "audience" - consciousness. Consciousness is distinct from, and at least one step removed from, all of those things.

And finally (though this has already gone on quite long) -

I don't believe that consciouness is a manifestation of some "spark" or "soul" or anything else external. I think it's really a relatively mundane function of the brain that we simply haven't come to understand yet (and for as long as "science" remains blinkered by reductive physicalism, likely won't be able to come to understand). The key, and the thing (to go all the way back) that ties it in with free will, is that I believe that (as I mentioned before) the communication between brain and consciousness is bidirectional - that there's some mechanism by which conscious thought alone can at least affect if not wholly direct the path along which neurons fire, and likely not only pioneer new paths, but in some way "flag" them, such that the new path is (nominally) properly fitted into the whole.

And again - thanks. This is some of the most rewarding mental exercise I've had in a long time.