Imagine for a moment that our existence is a taut thread between two poles. A pendulum swinging between the past and the future, the internal and the external, order and chaos. Our now, our present, is simply the point in the middle, that tightrope we walk barefoot. But what does it really mean to walk along this edge? In this literary reflection, I want to invite you to gaze into the abyss that resides between our boundaries, to understand that living in balance is a constant dance between our dualities. So, are you up to rediscover this frontier realm of existence with me?

A Waltz Between Logic and Intuition

We can imagine ourselves as a tightrope walker, balancing on the taut rope of life, oscillating between order and chaos. This balance, this dance between extremes, is our constant challenge. The key lies in knowing how to balance our analytical intellect with our primal intuition.

On one side of the rope, we have our analytical mind, that endless calculator always drawing lines towards the future, that horizon we perceive as chaos, a blank canvas threatening to disintegrate us. Logic, like a sailor in a storm, seeks to control the chaos, trying to predict the future, to order it as if it were a puzzle. Like someone trying to foresee the path of a leaf in the wind through mathematical formulas.

This attempt to impose order on chaos is reflected in how we try to predict natural phenomena. For example, in astronomy, we try to predict the rotation of celestial objects; in meteorology, we try to anticipate the weather through complex calculations. However, despite our efforts, we only get approximations. Our reason, no matter how precise, cannot encompass everything. I like to call this logic our high definition: a mental frame that seems solid and immovable but is fragile in the face of uncertainty.

Imagine yourself being lost in a forest, your GPS is no longer working, and your phone's battery is dead. Here, the high-definition technology becomes a useless ornament. Yet, in this moment of helplessness, an ancient instinct arises from the depths of our being, an intuition that seems to say: "Trust me, I'll guide you back home." That sense of direction we didn't know we had and that helps us find a way back is our intuitive response to adversity.

The Echo of the Intuitive and the Memory of Order

On the other side of the rope, we have our intuition. The one that, like a time guardian, looks back towards that innate order that has evolved with us. Our body, with its symmetry and balance, is a living testimony of this primal order. So, intuitively, we seek to return to that harmonic past, to that low-definition scheme that expresses itself in more abstract and symbolic terms. However, an absolute return to order can also be harmful, like a river that freezes and stops its flow.

Currently, we are inclined to focus more on the future, to look at the world from an analytical perspective, and we often disconnect from our roots, from our inner being. This disconnection generates tensions that arise from a discrepancy between what society says is "good" or "positive" and the "negative" emotions we experience but often repress. Thus, if we tilt backward, we risk becoming petrified statues, and if we only look at the future, we get lost in a sea of chaos. Therefore, it is crucial to understand that our essence lies in being that tightrope, that vibrant present that maintains a healthy balance between what drives us to evolve and what anchors us in our roots.

The Dancing Frontier: A Present Between Yesterday and Tomorrow

Imagine for a second, what if I tell you that this moment, this present, is the thin borderline where our two universes coexist? Yes, I'm talking about our yin and our yang. Here, in the glow of now, they meet and dance to the rhythm of tango, creating a balance that anchors us to the beat of the cosmos. Time, then, is not a formula that we set running like a clock but an experience, a coming and going that takes us away and brings us closer to that balanced frontier, which is none other than our present. So, where's the trick? What really ticks? It's not the clocks; they mark the hours for the machines. For us, for the living, time is measured in experiences.

Alive or Dead? The Essence of Time

For the outside world, the one that seems so solid and tangible, measuring time with a clock makes sense. Because the external world, from our perspective, is already dead. It's held together by that analytical logic where the future is an open field where anything can happen, chaos threatening to disintegrate us. But there, in the heat of existence, the real secret emerges: feeling alive is not about watching the clock hands move. Instead, feeling alive is noticing that slight dissonance between intuition and reason, that slight discordance telling us something isn't adding up, something isn't in its place.

Consider for a moment Albert Einstein, a guy who had the intuition that time isn't constant and set out to overturn what was believed in his time. Wasn't it, after all, an artistic decision? Like a painter in front of his canvas, Einstein balanced what he felt was right with what the world was telling him.

Time: The Artist of Being

Time is an artist, playing with us on a canvas of ambiguities. When we suffer, every second stretches like gum, and it seems it will never end. But, on the other hand, hours fly by when we're having a blast, and if we take that to the extreme, it would be as if we hadn't lived at all. These are two sides of a coin, two extremes of how we live life, between order and chaos. The million-dollar question, then, is how do we want to live life? How do we want to experience time? If we choose a path of pure endless pleasure, we will burn out quickly, burning years like matches.
On the other hand, a life full of suffering will make each day seem eternal, leading us to long for the end. Therefore, to experience life fully, we must follow our body's instruction manual. Yes, with its innate wisdom, our body shows us the way, like when it warns us that we've overeaten or that we need a glass of water. The same goes for time. We will perceive time correctly, as it should be when we are in sync with how we live life and how our biotechnology has been designed to experience it.

Life as a Video Game: Overcoming the Optimal Challenge Curve

What if I tell you that life is a video game? Our organism, that incredible biological machine that we are, is designed to overcome adversities. In video games, there is something called "the optimal challenge curve". They are programmed with different levels, each a little harder than the previous one. If the challenges are too easy, you get bored and stop playing. But if they are too difficult, you get frustrated and also quit. The optimal challenge is the sweet spot between boredom and frustration. There, in that perfect balance between the monotony of order and the vertigo of chaos, is where life feels in its place. When you perceive that you are in harmony with your dualities, such is life, our present, a walk between borders.