1. Snowflake

I went out onto the balcony, leant over the railing and looked down onto the street as it sank into the gloom. Shortly after, something small and white glowed weakly on the sleeve of my black sweater. It was a snowflake. For a moment it caught the light coming through the window of the room, shimmered brightly and then went out. I had experienced an encounter of this kind many times in my life. Everyone has experienced a similar encounter many times, and yet at that moment it was different from before. For a brief moment this shimmering snowflake seemed to me like an unknown magical phenomenon in an unknown magical world, a phenomenon which disturbed and aroused anxiety and yet which still radiated an urgent and poignant beauty. I could have thought about the fact that nothing had happened to contradict the regularity which characterizes experience, but this idea was not in any way helpful: the feeling of anxiety and the experience of beauty seemed to come from this very regularity; it was the network of established connections which proved to be peculiar and incapable of giving anything its normal meaning, for the simple reason that at that moment this same network had lost its unambiguously accepted meaning.

An encounter with a glimmering snowflake is an experience which everyone is familiar with; anyone who speaks English understands the sentence “the snowflake fell”. However, it sometimes happens that we experience a moment when such a simple process seems mysterious and incomprehensible to us. At such a moment, the feeling, which is a blend of wonder, uncertainty, a light dizziness, nausea and anxiety, as well as a kind of quiet intoxication and the promise of incomprehensible happiness, is not just about one event, but all of reality, the whole cosmos. At that moment, the phenomenon is telling us something about the cosmos. Normally such a feeling does not last for long and reality soon regains its old familiar face, and if we turn to our tried and tested syntax through which we put things in their place and follow the course of reality, again it is enough that we are used to it: we do not require it to disclose its own nature, its authority and its source. But perhaps it is a shame that we forget such experiences so quickly. Perhaps we would profit by lingering over them a little longer; maybe we would learn something new about ourselves and the world if we listened more carefully to what these experiences are telling us. They speak to us in questions, but these questions also contain within them the embryos of answers. For once I would like to persevere with this quiet, transitory vertigo and try to listen to the questions forming inside it and follow the answers which grow from within them.

 

2. View and description

Why is there some kind of existence and some kind of action here – what does it actually mean? When I focus my view on what is actually happening when I see a falling snowflake and when I understand the sentence which I use to express this action, then the complexity and peculiarity of this action becomes apparent. It would seem that this complexity and peculiarity is not something that entirely disappears during normal perception and normal understanding – they are still there, just as the action is of the same phenomenon; this action and the emotions it arouses are only concealed by the result of the action and the normal ways in which it is received. We mentioned the experience of a strange, urgent beauty and at the same time the feeling of peculiarity and confusion. As we will see, these are two sides of the same experience, the experience of emerging existence.

If I focus my view on the snowflake on the sleeve of my sweater and want to come upon the nature of what is happening, all I have to do is simply describe; in fact, anything more would once again obscure the action which is revealed by this new view, which does not hide in any way but is nevertheless so difficult to express. This certainly does not mean that viewing and description provide a reproduction of the thing being described as it is in itself. View is not a transparent layer; it is a question which the thing answers. View brings a certain framework, a certain syntax, which allows the thing to appear as itself in its own meaning and being. Description occurs through language; there is no such a thing as a transparent, neutral language, a language which is not rooted in some world, does not describe it and does not contribute towards its revelation and creation. Our objective, though, is not the unpromising “being-in-itself” – this kind of being is just an abstraction and as such does not interest us at all; however, being-for-itself (and being-for-itself is, as we shall see, essentially relational, relative) is unthinkable outside of a relationship, outside the perspective of manifestation, which is one of the relationships which the being of existence is involved in (and a relationship is unthinkable outside of the dynamic whole, the relationship network). The historical density of the language of viewing and the language of description is, therefore, a prerequisite for being-of-itself to appear rather than an obstacle to this. Only language which itself has opacity of being can address the being of things. Description is not a reproduction of a thing, but a conversation between language and the thing being articulated, and because the foundation of viewing has something like a language of seeing, viewing is also a conversation with the thing being seen. Persevering with viewing and description means allowing this conversation to develop and following the emergence of the action, which is a response to the syntaxes opened up by perspective and description. View and description do not create a transparent layer; they have their own language, which they offer to existence as a means for it to show itself.

Persisting with description where everything leads one towards interpretation is often the most difficult thing. A description of emerging existence which aims to do justice to the thing being described has to take into consideration everything which is being jointly manifested within that existence – for example, within the snowflake: all of the important relationships and connections which create meaning and are entangled within existence. And as I am writing the final version of this opening passage when the book has been finished, I can already say at this juncture that it didn’t take me very long to discover that the description of the encounter with the snowflake and its short life has to contain a description of the nature of the activity of the entire cosmos. Being aware that the description of the emergence of a unique existence contains a description of the cosmos does not mean being trapped in a dreadful infinity, a never-ending causal or final series within which the phenomenon is set. The task of viewing the activity of the entire cosmos arose because every thing and every event arises as a location in a dynamic, self-creating syntax of the world, which is in some way present as part of the whole in the meaning created by existence itself and can only be encountered as a developing whole; if we want to describe the thing being revealed, we have to describe the nature of this dynamic syntax, and that in turn means capturing in some way the nature and development of the cosmos. Gradually all of this will gradually be shown to us in a clearer light.

This book, therefore, is the story of the search for what the revealing of the existence of something like a snowflake means, and about everything which opens up during this search, like a question that demands an answer. There is an attempt, at least in the form of rough outlines, to answer some of these questions. These answers are far from being a thorough and exhaustive examination of the areas they relate to. Even though this book is not exactly short, it transpired that it cannot contain more than a glimpse into these individual areas, a glimpse which would need to be thoroughly elaborated, with the understanding that development always means revision too.

 

3. The recognition of existence

The snowflake melts and I am still standing on the balcony. I can see houses with lights in their windows on the other side of the street. In the light of the streetlamps I can see trees bending in the wind and their shadows on the pavement, I can see cars driving along the street with their headlights on, I spot the dark silhouette of a bird flying across the sky. I can name various aspects of what I see using words such as “bird”, “fly across”, “house”, “standing,” etc. I can see existence, action and events. The words “existence”, “action” and “event” are also words which I use when I want to designate aspects of what I see in very general terms (I usually use the first of these words as part of linguistic theory, while the second and third are common in everyday conversation). I understand those words. If I were to explain how I understand them, I would attempt to capture the understanding which is taking place within me, for example, by saying that action is an expression of the being of existence and that being relates to the way in which existence enters into situations and relationships; events then enter into action as part of the action, defined by phases of a certain type which we call the beginning and end.

In order for us to see existence, being, action and event – in order for us to see them as this or that existence, as a specific action and a specific event – we have to recognise them as such. “To recognise” means to find the place which belongs to the thing we want to understand, the location assigned to it in the appropriate dividing and uniting framework of connections, which itself fits into a specific place on the higher levels of the connections – more concisely we can term it the unifying framework of connections, or simply the unifying framework, and place the thing we have recognised in this location. At the same time, this location in the network of relationships is determined by the type of internal relationship (the network nodes are themselves network structures with nodes on a finer scale) and by the type of relationship to the other locations in the network. In this location appear the first terminological problems which was mentioned in the introduction. The words of our languages have been forged for the world of things that are being revealed (whether these things reveal themselves through sensory perception, scientific experiment or logical/mathematical considerations), not for the construction of an area for the revelation and emergence of things and actions. So the word “framework” in itself predicates the meanings of conscious, free, targeted activities. From the outset it is necessary to state that the sense in which the word will be used here – usually in the collocation “unifying framework” – will only mean the dynamic network of relatively stable paths, within which some kind of action takes place (not necessarily actions in the area of the consciousness), together with the force which develops this network of paths; as we shall see, this network of paths has a certain directionality, which is not, however (with the exception of unifying frameworks in the area of the consciousness), the same as teleology. The very expression “network of paths of action” has the drawback in that it does not refer to the aspect of the unified dynamics, to the aspect of force. Instead it corresponds to what we might call “syntax”; syntax and force are aspects of the unifying framework. All of this will be examined further.

Recognising things as certain things, or actions as certain actions, does not precede seeing; it creates a part of seeing itself. Normally, recognising is not a conscious act; it occurs automatically and non-thematically. However, there may be cases when recognising becomes more difficult and, at times like these, we become aware we are arriving at something like recognition. I am still standing on the balcony above the evening street and I cannot decide whether the dark patch on the corner of the street is a person standing there, a bush resembling a person or a machine left behind by some workers; I hesitate and after some time the nature of the patch changes in relation to the meanings I gradually attribute to it. (Of course, to speak of a patch in this situation is not entirely accurate, as even the term “patch” already implies a certain interpretation). Finally a car drives past and in its headlights I can see that the dark place is, in fact, neither a person nor a bush; it is something else, a different existence: a piece of cracked plaster on the wall of a house.

Recognition means the appearance of existence and action. Existence and action appear for me, in relation to me. However, this relativeness inscribed into existence and action does not imply any weakening of existence and action, the loss or blurring of its originality, distinctiveness and dissimilarity to me; it does not mean that existence of itself and actions of themselves (into which existence appears) escape me because of relativeness. We have already touched on the fact that existence, action and being always appear in a relationship and from a relationship, as the pole of a relationship; they are essentially related. They enter into a complex and yet somehow ordered relationship network, in which the individual lines of the relational effect define each other and confer being on one another. We will also see that my recognition of things has a dual character; it is not only the interweaving of this network, but at the same time it is itself woven into it; it is located at a certain location defined by this network. Being is a relative concept, as is existence. Being and existence appear where the unifying framework of relatedness becomes fixed in the pole of relationships.

 

4. Existence and nothing

We can talk about and in some way see what emerges as the substance of the connections between the set areas of the framework – such as existence, being, action, event. In some way it is. We can see what is, we can speak about what – in some mode of being – is (we can talk about unicorns and round squares because they are in the mode of imaginary or nonsensical being): what is is what manages to appear as an expression of a framework of internal and external connections set in a higher framework of connections in a network which predetermines the paths of possible relationships in a syntax of reality which we are in some way acquainted with (reality, in this sense, can encompass everything which has a mode of being, a unifying framework, even unicorns and round squares – they are real fictions and real contradictions).

When I go out onto the balcony and a small white thing lands lightly on my sleeve, I know that it is a snowflake because the shape which it presents to my view (the internal arrangement of symmetrical crystal formations, which, although different for each snowflake, maintains a certain unified pattern) and the circumstances surrounding its emergence (the arrangement of external relationships – the direction of its fall, its behaviour in flight and on impact, its relationship to circumstances such as place and season) fulfil the unifying framework of connections, which is itself assigned to a specific place in the higher frameworks of connections, into a certain syntax, and which as part of this syntax is determined as the existence “snowflake”. If, for example, the white thing had been shaped like a miniature Hyundai logo, if it had made an audible noise on impact or if it had landed on a pebble on an Aegean beach in the middle of August (i.e. if the configuration I was encountering failed to fulfil something from the established framework of internal and external connections which determine for me what existence is for a “snowflake”), I would know that it was not a snowflake but something else. And if I wanted to know what I was encountering, it would be necessary to discover the framework of internal and external connections for this odd configuration. I also know that a swirling quantity of snowflakes which has begun to fall from the sky and which I can observe in the light of the streetlamps is a blizzard; I know this because the white swirling mass fulfils the unifying framework of internal and external relationships which define the existence of “blizzard”, i.e. because I am able to place this configuration being revealed into the tangle of frameworks on the basis of which I perceive a meaningful reality (a reality which was not meaningful on at least some level would, of course, not be a reality).

I, therefore, see two existences – the snowflake and the blizzard. One of these existences forms part of the other’s existence; both are characterized by a certain unifying framework of relationships between their parts. Here we can talk about existences which are situated on two levels of complexity or totalization. However, at that moment there is no existence between these two levels (between the existence of the “snowflake” and the existence of the “blizzard”). It is not there because I do not see it. My view is not able to establish any of the regularities which are, for me, the manifestation of some existence: none of the configurations in the chaotic movements of the snowflakes is able to become an expression of any of the frameworks of internal and external connections capable of establishing some existence, is able to unify itself and separate itself from the surroundings on the basis of such a framework, is able to occupy a place in the maze of frameworks, in the syntax on the basis of which I understand reality.

If I can hold my gaze on the chaotically flying snowflakes for a little while longer, it may happen that such a regularity will emerge after all: a consistent direction appears in the movement of a greater number of snowflakes; there is the appearance of regular, relatively stable relationships that can be named, which are known to me from past experience, and with this the appearance of regular relationships between this whole area and its surroundings. An arrangement has appeared which I understand as organization; organization is not something unrelationally determined: for me, organized is an expression of a unifying framework which is set into the maze of frameworks which demands that its expression is all that appears. We also have an expression for the type of configuration which appeared between the snowflakes: we call it “swirling snow”. If someone were to ask me: “What are you looking at? What’s there?” I’d reply: “There’s swirling snow”. Swirling snow may last just a short time, but it undoubtedly is – for a while the existence “swirling snow” emerged in front of my eyes from the chaos of snowflakes and then it disappeared once more as the movement of the snowflakes ceased to be an expression of the unifying framework which is part of the tangle of unifying frameworks and which prepared a place for the particular existence without which it could not emerge as existence.

What would happen if my language did not have any words for snow whirlwind and if part of the maze of frameworks structuring reality was not the unifying framework constituting the existence “snow whirlwind”? Then there would be no existence there; it is, however, possible that I would fasten onto certain regularities known from elsewhere (perhaps from the flow of water), which would lead, on the basis of analogy, to some kind of encounter with a nebulous, emerging quasi-existence (which would be a call for the language to establish the words). There is no sharp discontinuity between existence and non-existence because the unifying framework is something dynamic which is born and dies and is gradually constituted, even though this constitution need not be complete and may remain in a transitory phase.

And what if we continue to look at the falling snow, even after the swirling snow has disappeared as a known and identifiable existence. If someone were to ask what we can see now, we might say that we do not see anything or that we can only see a kind of chaos of snowflakes. What we mean by this is that on the level of unification or totalization on which we are focusing, there is nothing which would be an expression of any of the unifying frameworks from which the syntax of reality is woven. And yet we have a word which describes what we see: the word “nothing”, or also the word “chaos”. Moreover, the part of what is seen and is referred to with words like “chaos” or “nothing” points to a certain place in the syntax – to a place which is characterized by the fact that no valid unifying framework is fulfilled within it, even though the very absence of the unifying framework appears as a certain type of unifying framework which is fulfilled by the given chaotic configuration. This absence defines a certain place (“a place where there is an arrangement which is not an expression of any unifying framework”), and even a place which belongs to syntax and is necessary for a syntax to be established at all. That is why chaos and nothing are in a certain sense also existences. Absolute non-existence would be something which could not appear in any area of syntax. But is that even possible? Evidently not; whatever comes along is captured somewhere by syntax and shown as its expression – we never encounter absolute non-existence. This capturing can occur in two ways: firstly, we can move to a higher or lower level (in the case of snowing, either to a blizzard or a snowflake); secondly, it is possible to grasp the very absence of a framework directly on the given level of totalization as a place in the syntax (as the fulfilment of that place which points to the quasi-existence of chaos or nothing).

 

Translated by Graeme Dibble