Intelligence is a commonly misunderstood function of the brain. Consciousness, logic, the ratio is attributed many capacities that lift man above the beast, beast above plants, plants above matter. This taxonomy of the soul has created categories of Creation, in it there is the hand of a Higher Being, the incomprehensible world of meta-physics. But our free will is not a merit of intelligence, but a flaw of repetition. We are born as tabula rasa, the impressions of the world that penetrate the shields of our senses, are ink spots on our soul, stabbed by the hostile pen of foreign matter. In our subject slowly are carved the tracks of our experiences, that leave their trace like heavy carts in the mud. Our whole constitution is evolved to repeat these behaviors that are imprinted in our memory. That is the intelligence of man, to repeat as precise as possible, in the greatest detail capable, every action, every move and reflex that we remember to have experienced in circumstances as close as we can recognize to those we are faced with today, here and now. The complexities and varieties of matching circumstances and reproducing, copying behavior as precisely as possible, are such, and the capacity of our intelligence so imperfect, and the constantly changing world so demanding, that timespace never repeats itself. But our intelligence is ignorant of this uniqueness of the world, and rewrites the words it memorized. Our schools, high institutions of higher education, even create standardized tests that function as passages of intelligence. But we nevertheless will irrevocably fail. Our failure to repeat, this is our famed free will! Our free will is the imperfection of our ratio to repeat our habits in perfection. It is the golden time of ignorance, the innocence of childhood where we are most free to fail. Our capacity to fail, our capacity to at random be successful in a unique environment and time, given the flaw of our at chance mutated attempt to repeat ourself, which defines our authentic freedom. But let us not pride ourselves for our faults, but humble in shame, and praise forgetfulness for our failing successes.
Our capacity to fail… this will resonate in me for a while. We often hear about this in art too. When one creates a magnificent piece of art, it is when one being almost transcendental and having a glimpse of god. And for a creative person to reconcile with the idea that the most extraordinary aspects of your being didn’t come from you, but was loaned to you, all one needs to do is to live with true human love and stubbornness of keep showing up to do one’s part.