Thinking about Thinking 

We arrive into consciousness not as blank slates, but as beings already immersed in the currents of existence, already engaged in the intricate dance of thought. It wasn't a conscious decree on a particular Tuesday that initiated our cognitive processes; rather, it was a fundamental unfolding, a primordial awakening that occurred universally in our childhood. This inherent, pre-volitional nature of thought presents a profound epistemological challenge: how can we adequately define thinking from within thinking itself? This self-referential loop severely limits, if not renders utterly absurd, any definitive conceptualization we attempt. We first think, and only then do we become aware of the act of thinking.

Thought, much like the act of perception, operates as an automatism. There is precious little conscious decision-making involved in its initiation; it simply begins. This inherent, often inescapable, automatism of perception and its subsequent processing extends its reach across the entirety of life itself. Life, in all its myriad forms, thinks, albeit with varying degrees of complexity. There are discernible gradations in the sophistication of thought—a profound chasm separates the rudimentary data-processing of an amoeba from the intricate cognitive architectures of human beings. Furthermore, there are distinct types of thinking. We possess the capacity to engage our minds in ways that are more or less overtly driven by our basic emotions. Yet, we are also capable of employing thought in highly structured, often abstract, modes: we can think logically, we can create artistically, and we can construct elaborate mythologies. This multifaceted nature underscores the deep, often unconscious, roots of our most complex cognitive endeavors.

It is a deeply ingrained, yet often unexamined assumption, that our thoughts are wholly subject to our personal agency, that they spring forth from a conscious act of will. However, a more penetrating gaze reveals a profound reversal: it is the very act of thinking that fundamentally structures and continuously re-shapes the individual self. This is to say, the "will to think" is not some pliant instrument at our disposal, but rather an indomitable, often unruly, force.

Consider, for a mere thirty seconds, the attempt to silence the incessant murmur of your mind. How quickly this seemingly simple task reveals its inherent difficulty, its near impossibility. Almost instantly, the external world asserts itself through the insistent pull of perception, demanding engagement. Then, the echoes of the recent past, the unresolved fragments of yesterday, inevitably resurface, interfering with any fleeting hope of mental stillness. And there you are, inexorably drawn back into the relentless current of thought, caught in its intricate web of connections, relations, and communications. This is not merely a solitary internal monologue; it is a dynamic, multi-directional exchange—with the external world, with the myriad internal representations of others, and most profoundly, with the very fabric of your own being. What, indeed, could you possibly endeavor to articulate to yourself that the depths of your own consciousness do not already intimately, profoundly, know? This ceaseless internal dialogue, this self-narration, is the very crucible in which identity is forged and continuously refined.