Theorists are rigid when they forget the person, and as such, theories cut through the flesh of life. Professions themselves are unreliable: for every good doctor there is a mediocre one. For every alert philosophical practitioner or bus driver, there is an average one. There is no such thing as a general practice that cannot be spoiled by an unreliable practitioner: an uninspired shaman, a bad parent, a deviated president, a stubborn accountant – parent, shaman, president, accountant: those are empty labels. No social practice, label or theory is good enough that it cannot be betrayed by mediocrity and somnambulism. Conversely, any profession or social function can be represented by genuine heroes: the nobleness of a practice is in fact the nobleness of the person that elevates such and such practice to an active degree of awareness and creative care, no matter how valued or despised the practice is by a given society.

I have been avoiding constructing crealectics as a pure theoretical system without embodied practice, a mere speculative edifice, because this would contradict the very intention of crealectics. Theory and speculation are very pleasant, yet what counts is to detect and awaken the crealectician in each of us. We are the collective body of regeneration and creativity, and each person or node in this collective body may actualise crealectics in a singular manner.

I – among others – dream of a theory which would be embodied, personified, metamorphic, multiplied in diversity and undogmatic. Each person can be a singular flame of inquisitive goodwill, of creal power, or genuine creativity and openness to welcome the new in others and situations. Crealectics is relational and intersubjective.

Spirit is present in each of us as attentiveness and capacity for singularity. This crealectic spark is perhaps what Hegel called the life of spirit, the flame of freedom, and it is the source of love because it generates tolerance for difference. When you are overwhelmed by fear, the crealectician dies in you. When you are governed by conformism, the crealectician dies in you. When you sleep-walk through your daily routines, the crealectician dies in you.

Conversely, when you listen deeply, the crealectician awakes in you. When you question and wonder, and try to see things in a new light, the crealectician awakes in you. When you respect creative difference in others and see the person in front of you as an inspiration for novelty and singularity, you are the crealectician that we all can be: one singular locus or node of a multifarious esprit de corps, an experiential fold on the spatium of the cosmological manifold which is our common origin, the absolute transimmanence of relational singularity I call Creal.