People tend to think of consciousness either as a discrete unit, confined to itself (i.e., a soul, or something similar) or as a emergent phenomena of material reality, just the result of the chemistry of your brain. I tend to take a third option.
What if it isn't that nothing is truly conscious, and everything is just the result of atomic billiard balls bouncing around, but that
everything is conscious? You, other people, the animals, the plants, down to the rocks and dirt on the ground? What if consciousness isn't this blip in a vast void of unconscious nothingness, but is all around you -- perhaps in forms too alien to interact with, or understand, but there nonetheless?
I can never really bring myself to deny the fact that I am conscious, because as long as there is an "I" to deny it, there is consciousness. Descartes, "I think therefor I am", and all of that. Likewise, in spite of arguments about how all human action is determined, I experience myself as being able to make choices. Maybe not always the choices I'd like to make, and maybe influenced by my past, my mood, my fears, and such, but I can still choose. I went into the woods yesterday, swung branches at trees as hard as I could, because I chose to, not because I was conditioned to. To prove I was a man, and not a piano-key, as Dostoyevsky said.
This is the article that first introduced me to the idea of panpsychism. It's by David Graeber, who wrote Bullshit Jobs and Debt: The First 5000 Years. Fantastic writer, very fascinating man, passed away a couple years back before he could finish another one of his books.