Building the Perceived Reality (Part III): Finding the One Is Not the Same for Everyone

“The one” is not one belief, one doctrine, or one final explanation that all people must accept. Not every life should be forced into the same form. Finding the one is a spiritual journey of expanding perceived reality: bringing one’s actions, beliefs, and emotions into a state of coherence. It is not the claim that everyone is one. It is the attempt to become less divided within oneself.

I. Rationalizing the Universe Is Nearly Impossible and Matters Only to Humans

This follows from the observation that humans have limited senses and that the information contained in the universe is not measurably finite. So far, we do not know the boundary of the universe. Would the universe continue to exist without human conceptualization? Probably yes; there is no measurable evidence that the universe depended on human conceptualization one thousand years ago. This question is directly related to the view that nothing exists outside the human mind. It brought me back to a discussion I once had: “Does a tree exist if we do not know that it exists?”

“Esse est percipi” (“to be is to be perceived”) is associated with idealism. Scientists often prefer realism: the convention that the tree exists independently of us, even though we can know it only through the human mind. Science is conventionally tied to the existence of an objective world.

This series of posts is an attempt to build perceived reality. In this context, we can never access a noumenal tree, a tree as it is in itself, untouched by the structures of human cognition. Although we have the capacity to assume the existence of something outside the human mind, this concept may have little bearing on how we live, as Phillip Demarest suggested to me.

If I take the stance of realism, I have, at least for now, no way to disprove it. Perceived reality is internal to the process of alignment: finding the one. When human experience contradicts perceived reality, a new perceived reality is shaped through the process of finding the one. If I assume that there is a reality-in-itself, albeit one of limited practical use, finding it means reaching levels of explanation that expand perceived reality and approach reality-in-itself (see Building the Perceived Reality (Part I): Reality-in-Itself, Cognition, and Frameworks). No matter which stance I take, it brings me closer to finding the one.

I will offer a fuller description of “finding the one,” the criticisms of it, and my responses to those criticisms. At this point, I want to emphasize that finding the one is not the same as rationalizing the universe or human experience. When human life is seen as a means of finding the one, rationalism is a tool, a model for understanding the universe so that we can act consistently with that model.

Consider a conflict with a partner. From a rational perspective, if I make a mistake, the most efficient way to move past the conflict is to admit it, explain its cause, and propose a solution. Emotionally, however, I may not be seeking an explanation or a solution first. My action, based on a rational model, is not aligned with my emotion at that stage. Finding the one is a spiritual path toward aligning action and emotion.

II. Does Meaning Exist Outside the Human Mind?

An interesting question is whether this process of finding the one belongs only to humans. A tree grows toward sunlight, but if it grows without limit, it becomes vulnerable to storms. Its form is constrained by the world. It survives by reaching some balance between expansion and stability. In human language, we might say that the tree is finding a way to make peace with its environment. But the tree does not need the concept of meaning. It does not ask whether its growth is authentic.

Meaning, then, does not exist outside the human mind. Seeking meaning is a human activity. As Camus argues, human beings crave meaning. If there is no objective universe outside the human mind, then asking whether meaning exists outside the human mind becomes beside the point. In my attempt to build perceived reality, the objective universe does not rely on meaning to exist. Humans seek meaning as they find the one and expand perceived reality. For example, when we observe an unexplained pattern of bright dots in the sky, we seek meaning. In doing so, we ask whether alien life exists in space and expand perceived reality to include the possibility that we are not alone in the universe.

III. Clarification on Universality

If my language in the previous post portrayed finding the one as a universal law, I need to clarify it. As Phillip pointed out, “By trying to find a meaning of life in the one, you are forcing all lives, all people, and all entities into one model.”

“Finding the one” is only one way to live among others. This invites the question: Why this philosophy? Why privilege it? I return to this question in Section IV.

More critically, if “finding the one” names a universal process, like entropy, what is its use? If every action, every thought, and every adjustment can be described as finding the one, then the concept risks explaining everything and therefore explaining nothing. It loses contrast. It cannot guide us because it cannot tell us what lies outside it.

I will articulate the paradox further by presenting a conflict that took me time to think through. It is easy to communicate what I already know; what is difficult is addressing the conflict between my experience and the views of others. This process is also finding the one. But can we picture the possibility of not finding the one? I can barely do so. If I manage to provide a metaphysical idea that incorporates my beliefs and those of others, I have found the one. If I accept that others’ views are different and that there is no need to resolve the conflict, I am still finding the one.

The next question, then, is whether every action and thought is finding the one. Why is finding the one useful? If the universe is an egg, why do we need a concept of the universe? To address this question, I need to think about what is not “finding the one.” If finding the one explains everything, then it explains nothing. It cannot guide because it cannot contrast. If there is a way that is not finding the one, then finding the one is no longer universal.

We are in the trap of utility. The statement “If finding the one explains everything, then it explains nothing; it cannot guide because it cannot contrast” evaluates a concept according to its use.

IV. Why Do I Articulate My Philosophy of Finding the One?

This section addresses the question: if finding the one is only one way to live among others, why this one? Why privilege it?

Why do I have to write this down? Like pursuing curiosity, sharing is a human impulse. It is not purely altruistic, because writing also helps me reduce cognitive dissonance. I want to share my struggle and my sense of conflict between the science I pursue and my beliefs. I want to lay out my philosophy of making peace with the universe so that people can try it and tell me whether finding the one helps them live authentically.

From a reader’s perspective, I can imagine anger because this view may contradict the reader’s own beliefs. I can imagine the questions: Why bother reading? How does it benefit me if I spend my time consolidating what I already know and finding the one? This may make me more tired than simply living with the dissonance I sense.

Those reactions can be good signs because they mean the philosophy is inviting a conceptual shift. But my writing also needs balance: finding the one is not intended to convince people that this framework is better or to fit all ways of life into a rigid model.

I believe in neurodiversity: each person has different genetics and grows up in a different environment. The one that each individual reaches is different. My writing tries to fit the meaning of life into a model in which meaning lies in the alignment of belief, action, and emotion. This returns to my reflection in What Is Writing For? A Reflection on Purpose and Epistemology. There, I argue that writing is meant to be read and to help people understand the world in a way that I think is worth pursuing, or more useful. Emotionally, my motivations include writing as an intellectually stimulating outlet, an altruistic desire to share what has helped me live, and a need for recognition.

The argument I received has greatly helped me think through the philosophical framework of finding the one. It draws attention to the motivations behind my desire to share and convince people to think this way. For example, why not live to experience contradiction?

Here is an experience that motivates my writing about these findings. I believe in the importance of my research: studying human intelligence helps humanity continue to prosper. I once felt that if something was truly good, its value should be obvious.

I was challenged by a practical impediment: people do not think alike. What is obviously good to one person may not be good, urgent, or meaningful to another. A cause for one person may not be a cause for someone else. Under these conditions, using rationale, reasoning, and even emotion to convince others may not be a corruption of truth. It may be a fair way to allocate resources and support human beings as a whole.

Resources are not a free lunch. To support my curiosity, I was trained to deliver pitches that help the public understand why my research is necessary, why it matters, and how investing in it may eventually pay off. Because I have knowledge, I can leverage it to generate capital, attention, and social status. For example, I understand that human attention is drawn toward salient stimuli. I can use emotional framing to make an idea easier to notice. Does making my speech better received, for example, by creating excitement and making an audience care, make my research objectively better? Or does it only make my research appear better? Is there even such a thing as “objectively better” when research must enter society through language, attention, funding, and other people’s values?

This paradox was partially resolved for me through the idea of finding the one. The process is visible in my own thoughts. I sense a misalignment. I want to do what I believe is good for humankind: research on intelligence. But to advance that research, I end up polishing my writing, shaping my speech, and trying to attract public attention. At first, this feels like a contradiction. I resolve the tension using the concept of order introduced in Part II: to advance research on human intelligence, it is necessary to attract public attention through education and through an effort to bring others closer to the level of knowledge from which I see the problem.

The conflict is not entirely gone. I can live with the fact that communication is necessary to solicit support for my research. However, communication skill builds on my knowledge of how the human brain works to attract public attention. This generates unease and makes me question whether my research is selected for its merit or its delivery. One way I try to resolve this unease is by sharing what I know; the philosophy of finding the one is part of this effort. I want people to know what is happening in my mind. I want to make the process visible, not only the polished product. I feel that living authentically is one way to live happily. But whether this act is altruistic is contestable, because what I am doing is also for myself. I am writing, explaining, and exposing the contradiction partly because I want to find the one.

V. Is It Absurd to Require Meaning to Live?

Humans can live without meaning by satisfying biological requirements. Why do humans need meaning? In the philosophy of finding the one, meaning helps people feel better by bringing together fragments of experience and of themselves, piecing them together to reveal an authentic self and, in some cases, giving them a reason to continue living.

VI. Comments on Finding the One

Would the world move differently without the philosophy of finding the one? Why do people have to know that the framework of finding the one exists?

I want to reiterate thoughts I shared in Part II: Finding the One, Order. I see myself trying to expand perceived reality as the way the universe is finding the one, making peace with the part residing within it. This is a human-centered view because I am assuming a “mind” of the universe that I cannot observe. Given that the universe, as I use the concept here, is part of perceived reality, perhaps it is humble enough to presume a mind within my perceived universe.

No, people do not have to practice finding the one. Finding the one is only a hermeneutic lens, an invitation to see the world differently. The question of why we need it is really a utilitarian question. If it is of no use, then there is no need to pursue it. This is the crux that pains me when I think about why we need such a framework.

I now object to the view that if something has no practical use, then it is meaningless. Finding the one may be useless, although usefulness is already defined subjectively, but it is not meaningless. The meaning of life varies among frameworks. Finding the one, as a means of aligning one’s beliefs and experiences, does not rely on utility, though it can have uses. Thinking about finding the one has given me a sense of inspiration, which is itself part of finding the one.