When I observe us humans, I sometimes see animals that have learned to find explanations for their actions.
Not beforehand.
Afterwards.
A dog chases its tail. A small body spins around itself, chasing a part of its own body, perhaps barking, slipping, getting back up and carrying on. To anyone watching, it seems pointless. A closed system in motion.
The dog doesn’t know that.
It doesn’t need to turn it into a story. It doesn’t need to justify its behaviour, categorise it, or defend it. It doesn’t need to wonder whether what it does changes what it is.
It is simply there, doing it.
We laugh because from the outside it is easy to judge. But we, too, often move in circles; ours are just better dressed.
We chase recognition, security, significance, control, clarity, closeness, retreat. We, too, often run in circles. Ours are not only physical. We react to fear, to hurt, to hope, to the feeling of being seen or not being seen. Our bodies are quicker than our reasoning.
Afterwards, we tell the story.
We do not say: I ran off.
We say: For reasons.
Perhaps that is even true. Perhaps there are always reasons. But reasons are not always the origin of an action. Often, they are what allow us to live with what we have done.
Consciousness does not get rid of instinct. It makes us answer for it.
We like to imagine that understanding makes us less animal. As if we were less body, less impulse, less need, the moment we can speak about it.
But we are still bodies.
Fear remains. Attachment. The flight impulse. And the need to turn all of this into a story afterwards.
Understanding does not stop any of this.
It adds another layer.
Fear is no longer just fear. It has to explain itself. Need becomes the fear of being too much. Withdrawal becomes something that needs a reason.
An animal is startled and runs.
A human is startled and runs, then immediately wonders whether the reaction was appropriate, childish, necessary, exaggerated, understandable, or embarrassing.
We are not freer for it. Only more complicated.
Understanding does not stop the circle. It shows us the circle.
That sounds like a gain. Sometimes it is. If we recognise a pattern, we may stop a moment earlier.
But understanding is not a way out of the enclosure.
It is more like a light coming on inside.
We see more.
But we are still in there. It just becomes harder to pretend we are not.
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