In this section realism is being challenged.  The satisfaction with the world as it appears to be is given a wake up call.  Think about what the world, as it appears to be, is without thinking!  A given species of plant, say corn, is not merely its manifestation process, that is: a kernel lying dormant in the earth, grass emerging, stalk, leaves, ears forming, tassels, dried up, back to the beginning, but also its idea, or that it is the species, “corn.”  It is the species, or idea, or concept, that stands like a rock seemingly unchanged over time, while the percepts of its manifestation are in a continual state of change—impermanence.  The idealists are in full agreement with the thought that the idea is the reality, but in turn become lost when having to confront the objective reality of percepts.  The percept and the concept being the two halves of the reality-coin.

This is a very interesting point in the book for me.  I find that the idea that thinking is "only" an abstraction from reality is very deeply rooted.

After all, what is the alternative?  If thinking is a part of reality just as the visible rose is part of the rose plant's unfolding, then I can no longer "stand outside" thinking and paint a picture of it in my mind. 

But this "standing outside thinking" is in fact what I do when I think to myself "after all, thinking is only an abstraction from my experiences in the world, my idea of a tree is a result of neurons firing in a certain way when I perceive a tree.." and so on.  I have a clear idea in my mind of what thinking "really is" - the firing of electrical impulses in my brain, for example.

The alternative actually is to start observing thinking as a part of reality.  I must really observe it rather than weave abstract theories about it.  This can be the beginning of a quite radical change in my everyday life...

Inspired by V. Tomberg's essay on "Taking Counsel," and the idea of the ternary that he mentions in it, I decided to see if there were any of these ternaries in 5.3. That means, two opposing principles and a third principle that reunites them at a higher level.

One thing I saw is that the naive person's idea that thinking is like taking a picture of reality, and thinking is separate from reality, wrongheaded as it may be, seems to grant more freedom to the thinker than the other view, that the world produces thinking "in the heads of men with the same necessity as it produces the blossom on a plant." I'd like to think that, unlike a plant, I had some say in the matter of the flowering of my own thoughts.

So one idea is separation and freedom (because one can aim the camera of one's consciousness in the direction of one's choosing); the antithetical idea is unity and necessity. Where is the third, uniting principle of the ternary? (Maybe it's further along in the chapter.)

I tried to find a way to think the thoughts attributed to the naive person, about the separation of thinking from reality, as if they could come from myself. It wasn't hard, because, as Tim says, that idea is prevalent in our society. If I were to walk into a forest that no person had ever seen before, where the hand of man had never set foot, as the saying goes, then I could say, "I"m bringing an alien force into this forest." That force would be thinking. The forest had gone on without me all this time and would go on without me after it had obliterated the faint traces of my passing. It wouldn't make the slightest difference to the forest that I had been there.

And yet, at the same time, I'd have changed the forest forever, because it could no longer be called, "the forest that no one ever saw or thought about." And, as a naive realist, I would have to admit something else, too. If I walked into the forest wearing a locket with a picture in it, that picture would actually be there with me in the forest; it would be part of the reality of the forest, even though it was a hidden part. And because I walk into the forest with a head full of thoughts about the forest, that also is part of the reality. So the naive realist has to admit that forces have as much reality as substances, and thinking is a force.

If every viewpoint has truth in it, where does the truth of the naive realist live? Tomberg mentions not only different viewpoints, but also different cognitive levels, as being valid in their sphere. So, of course, the view that thinking is separate from the world is perfectly valid in the cognitive level where thinking is not observed because we're too busy focusing on whatever we're thinking about. And I also think it has some validity in the practical sphere as well. Any farmer knows that thinking about working on the broken tractor isn't going to fix it. We've had several great thinkers come through this farm who thought they were doing the work when they weren't. Finally, at a certain time of in history it was important to have this separation of thinking from the world as a kind of emancipation from nature, so it was a valid idea then as well.

And where does the truth live, that the world produces thinking in our heads with the same necessity that it produces blossoms in plants? The flowering plants flower as part of their life process. As a normal human being I think as a part of my life process. We're made for thinking. So the force of thinking lives in us just as "the force that through the green fuse drives the flower" (Dylan Thomas's words) lives in the plants. But does the world decide what we do with our thinking? That's another matter! So, biologically speaking, it's the world that produces thinking in me. And, since I'm also part of the world with my will forces and my hopes, in that sense also the world, at least the little corner that I'm marginally in charge of, produces my thinking. As if every plant could decide for itself what kind of flower it was going to make.

"Plant a seed in the earth. It puts forth root and stem, it unfolds into leaves and blossoms. Set the plant before yourself. It connects itself, in your mind, with a definite concept."

The four-fold plant (root, leaf, flower, fruit/seed) connects to the four elements (earth, water, air and fire.) The fifth element, human consciousness, is added. The plant becomes fivefold now, because "it connects itself, in your mind, with a definite concept." I wonder if in the German the verb "to connect oneself" is as active as it is in English. The German is "Sie verbindet sich." It binds itself. An odd way to put it, as if the plant were actively hooking up with the concept.

At the end of the paragraph, the concept seems to arise out of the plant as though it were a flower within the flower, just waiting for the human consciousness to give it the chance. Thinking could hardly be less separate from the world than this.

Through ignorance, clumsiness, or absent-mindedness I may leave the rosebud out of water and let it die. In doing so, I keep a whole series of possibilities from unfolding, and if I rely only on my percepts, I'll never even know the possibilities existed. And for "rosebud," read any potential waiting to flower, including the human kind, and even concepts.

Something in every being lives only in the ideal world, ready to manifest. Just as a flower in the forest will never have its concept arise in a thinking human consciousness unless a person looks at it, notices it, and actually thinks.

So, stopping to smell the roses may not just do me good?