If one believes the French philosopher Gilles Deleuze, Alfred North Whitehead's work is one of the most important events in the exploration of the universes of thought in recent times. Whitehead's text confronts us with the feeling of existing in a world that cannot be defined by any creed or method, but offers us unexpected friends: ideas--ideas that unleash and alleviate, play and mitigate despair, swim in the rough waters, but without effort let go of us if we cannot fathom them. For adventurers who risk the encounter with Whitehead's text, its treasures feel like balm on the overheated, burning sensation of wounds of division. A way out. A new way. A revolution--not of violent overturning, but of gentle reorientation in which compassionate thinking breathes. It is not about systems, but permeated with musical rhythms and harmonics, composing significance with impermanence. It does not arrive at a promised land, but perhaps is a harbinger of things to come, sensing a universe that will surprise our descendants. It does not reveal a mind in which we can live, but one that challenges all rest.
