On Nature: Blobs of conciousness

This question struck me today. Why are we so bloody gooey? The disparity between the eternal yearning of our spirits and the daily picking of our noses seems completely unreconcilable. That's because it is, I suppose. C.S Lewis talks about this in his book, referencing the ability of our 'reason' to poke fun at our 'nature'. He argued that the phenomenon of our reasoning (explainable as seperate from nature) making quaint remarks about how ridiculous we are was demonstration that we aren't merely products of nature, but seperate beings that contemplate nature - standing next to it and going "that does what??".

It's a really great couple of chapters. He goes on to talk about how the disparity between what our souls expects, and what nature gives is the result of a world where the physical and spiritual fail to mesh as they were planned to.