Human experience is a jungle. From burrowing things to colorful birds in their upper canopies, the consciousness takes myriad forms. It is impossible to understand even your own piece of it all. Some have claimed distance and erected barriers to fence off life, to try and attain a sovereign objectivity over the event of human existence.
The best of this kind are the eyes of a story-teller. His only barrier is the time spent pondering. Even that might be an indivisable honest part of his life. The story-teller has only a practical interest in forms. Intellectual understanding of larger processes is useful in seeing the meaning of individual acts. His true interest is in the intense and exciting event of personality beings.
Imagination is an invaluable tool. An eye for aesthetics in ideas and forms helps to create pairings that stir the feeling of wonder awake. Color, shape, rushing passion for life and love. But also silence and depression of the burrowing things. Predatory ways of some, and the preponderance of bug-type things.
All aswarm.