This space gathers relevant information for the understanding of the work Ontology of Emergent Complexity, indicating the importance of its division into fields.
In an era where everything seems fragmented — knowledge, experience, language, even time — insisting on a rigid structure of chapters would be betraying the very spirit of philosophy. This work is not organized into closed parts, nor into successive topics. It is a territory. And like every living territory, it is not read: it is traversed.
The organization by Fields arises from the need to create zones of intensity, not blocks of content. A Field is not a thematic chapter: it is a symbolic landscape where thought can hesitate, rediscover itself, stumble, reorganize itself. Each Field is a place of transformation — not a compartment, but fertile ground. A Field is never complete, because complexity never closes itself off.
This is not a work of quick answers. It is a traversal. And each Field is a provisional station of that traversal — a point where thought reorganizes itself based on the impact with the real. What unites all the Fields is movement. The impulse to reinscribe the world instead of simply describing it.
Often, when searching for something on Google, we expect the truth to appear ready, visible, organized like an index or a summary. But the Ontology of Emergent Complexity proposes another path: thinking like one who walks. Like one who exposes themselves. Like one who accepts not knowing in order to truly think.
Each Field in this work embraces a fundamental dimension of human experience: the body, time, language, technique, origin, ethics, subjectivity, politics, truth. But it does not do so as one who studies objects. It does so as one who lives a process. Thought here does not observe from the outside — it is implicated. It feels, reorganizes, responds.
By opting for Fields, this philosophy rejects the idea of knowledge as accumulation. Instead, it proposes thought as a symbolic gesture of reorganization. A Field is this: a fold in the traversal. A place where the real transforms because it was touched by a new way of seeing.
This organization invites the reader — or rather, the walker — to choose their own path. There is no mandatory order. There is no center. There are rhythms. There are resonances. There are zones of tension and openness. It is a work designed to be inhabited, not consumed. A work where thinking becomes a living practice — an ethical and symbolic traversal of the world.
If you are looking for a philosophy that does not separate reason and body, language and gesture, technique and ethics — then start where you feel the calling. Because, here, each Field is an invitation to reorganize not only what you think, but the very way you think.
It is not a book to be read. It is a territory to be traversed.