This is a bit repetitive from my last post which I did not capture the full essence of the point.
What is a flock? Take away the birds and it is nothing. Replace all the birds with other bird sand the flock is the same. The flock is nothing more a label for a continual divergence and convergence to an undefinable idealisation.
What is a bird in the flock? it has wings, a beak, feathers. It moves, it flaps it wings. A bird is also a label, a continual convergence and divergence to an undefinable idealisation.
And what about Alex, a bird who flies in the flock? Well Alex changes over time, he is born, grows and loses feathers, his cells are constantly replaced. Even Alex is a label for a continual divergence and convergence to an undefinable idealisation.
The flock is no more than a hierarchy of interconnected inseparable essences. As it is an intuitive ordering of a singular confusion.
And what of the words by which I communicate this. It can be written or printed on paper, temporarily pixelated on a screen, misspelled, or spoken in uncountable accents. It is made of phonemes which are structured by meaningless letters that are nonexistent in Mandarin.
Once again I find what I hierarchy of essences. Language is no more than a grasped ordering of a singular confusion.
Birds, words can and always myself exist simultaneously in my experience therefore experience is ultimately an intuition of essences in a singular confusion. Confusion sits a the top of the hierarchy of intuitive essences.
I find that annoying and repulsive. I rally against this because it doesn’t make sense, for if confusion reigns then the essence of intuition cannot be consistent. Intuition makes sense of a moment of confusion. All meaning I intuit or feel is unique to the moment.
I have written the essence of this conclusion many times from multiple perspectives using a variety of descriptive labels. I struggle against confusion to find consistency but when I believe I have a consistent view an inconsistency emerges.
I usually like to round on something comfortable like this “However intuition is the best model of a moment of confusion. It suggests a best path of following the intuition of the most informative interpretation of confusion which we call being fully present in the present.” But such action no longer provides the comfort it once did. I just feel anxiety at its crumbling into certain uncertainty. Once a convergence now a divergence. My blog posts follow the behaviour described here of infinitely approaching an undefinable idealisation. It is an intuitive belief of the benefit of being fully in the moment, but to be true to myself this feels a little fanciful. My blogs have been a process of railing against an on going subconscious acknowledgement that there is nothing but confusion.
Intuition is inconsistent and often contradictory. The only constancy is confusion. God that’s depressing.