Perception in Motion: How Thoughts, Feelings, and Neural Patterns Shape Decisions

Last updated: September 17, 2025 at 19:04 pm

We often reflect on what drives an action, and we know that, more often than not, action comes before thought. But how does this happen? It takes place in our remarkable and truly impressive brain.

In this example, our actions are guided by the signals stored in our brain. The concept of experience, along with diverse insights, provides the brain with multiple ways to generate a relevant response. In other words, the more experience, knowledge, practical hands-on skills, and strategic understanding one has, the better the decisions that can be made.

However, it is not quite that simple, as you can read more about here. There are many factors at play: numerous immediate considerations, the complexity of relationships, and the broader context. We also see differences between countries, depending on each nation’s stage of development.

The good news is that you can influence how you react. This happens in your everyday life, through the experiences you gather. In many countries, age and experience are valued. In Denmark, for example, it has been observed that experienced workers often find it very difficult to secure a new job, particularly after the age of 55.

Whether this is due to high competition, fear of better alternatives, or, as some suggest, the influence of the “Jante Law,” is something you may wish to reflect on yourself. However, when selecting and evaluating employees, it appears that the values created are significantly higher when staff with extensive experience, life experience, and strong empathetic abilities are chosen.

Neural Input Clusters: How the Brain Groups Experience

At first glance, the act of perceiving the world seems simple. We open our eyes and see, we listen and hear, we touch and feel. But neuroscience reveals a far more complex truth: the brain does not simply take in information as if it were recording a film. Instead, it actively groups, organises, and reconstructs inputs into meaningful patterns. These patterns — sometimes described as neural ensembles, input clusters, or even cell assemblies — form the basis of everything from memory to imagination.

A single input, such as the sound of a voice, does not exist in isolation in the brain. It immediately becomes associated with other signals — the tone, the facial expression you see, the words themselves, the context in which they were spoken. All of these signals activate groups of neurons that fire together. Over time, repeated co-activation strengthens the connections between them. This is what neuroscientist Donald Hebb famously summarised in the principle “neurons that fire together wire together.” What begins as raw sensation becomes a clustered representation that carries meaning.

Research on neural ensembles shows that these clusters are not fixed objects but living, dynamic networks. Each time you experience something familiar — a word, an image, a place — the cluster associated with that experience is activated. But crucially, the cluster can also be reshaped by new inputs. Imagine a mental “basket” that grows more detailed every time something is added to it. The more inputs it receives, the more finely tuned and influential it becomes. This is the essence of learning: not just storing information, but constantly updating the patterns that represent it.

The brain’s ability to cluster inputs is astonishing in scale. Neuroscientists estimate that we can form as many as 1.3 million distinct input categories, each one able to expand and adapt as new information arrives. Within each cluster, roughly six or more inputs might be processed together, creating a multi-sensory, multi-dimensional representation of the world. For example, the idea of “coffee” may cluster together the smell of roasted beans, the warmth of the cup, the taste on your tongue, the sight of the liquid, the sound of the machine, and the memory of the café where you drink it. The cluster is more than data: it is lived experience, tightly bound into a reusable pattern.

This clustering is not random. It is shaped by rules of organisation embedded in the brain’s architecture. Neurons in the visual cortex group inputs based on proximity, similarity, and continuity. The auditory cortex groups sounds by pitch, rhythm, and timing. The hippocampus, a key structure for memory, links clusters together across time and space, so that a single sound might recall a whole scene, or a single smell might trigger a cascade of memories.

One of the most remarkable aspects of this system is its plasticity. A cluster is never truly finished; it is continuously updated. When new information arrives, the brain does not simply start a new cluster. Instead, it checks whether the input fits into an existing one. If it does, the cluster is updated and strengthened. If it doesn’t, a new cluster begins to form. This constant negotiation is why learning is both stable and flexible: stable because patterns are reinforced, flexible because patterns can adapt.

However, there is also a hidden risk in this process. Because the brain seeks efficiency, it often prefers to fit new information into an existing cluster rather than create a new one. This can lead to bias and distortion. If you already have a cluster that associates lateness with disrespect, each new instance of lateness will strengthen that link, even if the true cause is traffic, illness, or chance. In this way, clusters become not just repositories of fact, but repositories of assumption. They shape how we interpret reality before we have had the chance to consciously evaluate it.

For decision-making, this means we rarely start with a blank slate. When faced with a choice, the brain does not weigh facts in isolation; it activates relevant clusters, each one coloured by memory and emotion. In a sense, the decision is already half-made before you consciously begin to think. Recognising this is vital: if we want to act with intention, we must learn to understand the clusters driving our thoughts, and deliberately shape the inputs we allow to form them.

Every Input Changes the Pattern

One of the most important principles in neuroscience is that the brain is not static. Every moment of experience leaves its trace, and every new input has the potential to reshape what is already stored. This means that our neural clusters — the patterns that define how we see, feel, and act — are always under construction. Far from being fixed, they are continuously refined, strengthened, or even distorted by what we encounter.

Think of a cluster as a dynamic network of neurons bound together by repeated co-activation. The first time you encounter something new — for example, learning a colleague’s name — your brain creates a fragile, tentative cluster. The sound of the name may be linked with the sight of the person’s face, the context in which you met them, and perhaps the emotional tone of the interaction. This first cluster is weak and unstable. But with each repeated encounter, the cluster is strengthened. The name becomes easier to recall, the face becomes more familiar, and the person becomes more firmly embedded in your social map.

However, this strengthening does not mean the cluster is locked in place. Instead, it is open to modification. Each time you encounter that person, new details may be added: the way they laugh, the projects you work on together, the stories they share. The cluster expands and shifts, absorbing each new element. Neuroscience shows that this happens because synaptic connections between neurons are highly plastic. They can grow stronger with repeated activation or weaker when neglected. This is known as long-term potentiation (LTP) and long-term depression (LTD) — the fundamental mechanisms of learning and forgetting.

The implication is profound: the brain never simply retrieves information, it reconstructs it. Each time you recall a memory, you also subtly rewrite it, adding in new elements or reshaping it in light of your current context. This is why eyewitness testimony can be unreliable, and why memories can feel so vivid yet be incomplete or even inaccurate. The process of remembering is also a process of updating.

Importantly, the updating process is not neutral. The brain does not add new inputs to clusters with equal weight. Instead, emotional significance, repetition, and attention all influence how strongly an input is integrated. A single frightening event can reshape a cluster permanently, embedding fear where none existed before. On the other hand, countless neutral repetitions may barely register. The brain is biased toward salience — it prioritises what feels urgent, emotional, or personally relevant.

This explains why feelings often precede thoughts in decision-making. The limbic system — especially the amygdala — processes incoming signals faster than the conscious, reasoning parts of the cortex. If a new input resembles something emotionally charged from the past, the relevant cluster is immediately activated with a feeling attached. Only afterwards does conscious thought catch up, rationalising or justifying the emotional reaction. In other words, by the time we are “thinking,” the brain has already done a great deal of deciding.

The constant updating of clusters is both a gift and a challenge. On the one hand, it allows us to learn, adapt, and refine our understanding of the world. On the other hand, it also means that poor-quality inputs — misinformation, repeated stereotypes, destructive self-talk — can take root and reshape patterns in unhelpful ways. Once embedded, these altered clusters guide perception and behaviour just as powerfully as accurate ones.

This is why guarding our inputs is so crucial. Every book we read, conversation we have, video we watch, or habit we repeat becomes part of the material our brain uses to update its clusters. If we repeatedly expose ourselves to negativity, cynicism, or distorted information, those elements will not remain external; they will be woven into the very fabric of our perception. Conversely, if we deliberately cultivate inputs that are accurate, constructive, and growth-oriented, we reshape our clusters in ways that support healthier decisions and stronger resilience.

In practice, this means that “neuroplasticity” is not just a scientific curiosity — it is an everyday responsibility. The brain cannot help but change with every input. The only choice we have is whether we manage that process consciously or allow it to happen by accident.

Guarding the Inputs: Why Quality Matters

If every new input reshapes our clusters, then the quality of those inputs becomes the foundation of how we think, decide, and act. The brain does not filter reality in a perfectly objective way. Instead, it is highly selective, giving priority to certain types of information while discarding others. This selectivity is both a survival advantage and a potential vulnerability — and it makes the deliberate guarding of our inputs essential.

One of the first layers of selectivity is attention. Out of the millions of signals bombarding our senses every second, only a fraction reaches conscious awareness. Neuroscience estimates that while our senses can process roughly 11 million bits of information per second, our conscious mind can only handle about 40–50 bits at once. This means that the brain must ruthlessly filter, and it does so based on what we have already trained it to prioritise. If our clusters are primed toward threat, we notice danger more readily. If they are primed toward opportunity, we notice possibilities. Attention is not neutral — it is guided by the patterns already in place.

This is where input quality becomes so decisive. What we repeatedly expose ourselves to determines what our attention is drawn to in the future. A person who consumes constant negative news, for example, may unconsciously tune their attention toward risks, failures, and dangers, while filtering out evidence of progress or hope. On the other hand, someone who practices gratitude or focuses on constructive information will find their attention drawn more naturally toward supportive cues. Both individuals live in the same world, but their brains build very different versions of it because their clusters have been fed different material.

Guarding inputs also matters because of the way emotion is tied to learning. Inputs charged with emotion are far more likely to be stored deeply and integrated into clusters. This is why traumatic events leave such strong imprints, but also why positive reinforcement and meaningful experiences shape us so powerfully. The danger is that low-quality but emotionally charged inputs — such as fear-based propaganda, toxic relationships, or destructive self-talk — can hijack this system. Once embedded, these inputs alter clusters in ways that skew perception and decision-making long after the original stimulus has passed.

Moreover, neuroscience shows that the brain’s default mode is to conserve energy by reusing existing clusters whenever possible. This means we are constantly interpreting the present through the lens of the past. If our past inputs were distorted, biased, or limited, then our present decisions will also be skewed. The old saying “garbage in, garbage out” applies here with biological precision: the quality of outputs cannot exceed the quality of inputs.

Guarding inputs, then, is not simply about limiting what we consume, but about curating what we allow to shape our minds. This involves asking questions like:

What information sources am I relying on, and are they accurate or distorted?

Who am I spending time with, and what patterns of thought do they reinforce in me?

What inner dialogue am I repeating, and is it empowering or diminishing?

What sensory environments do I create daily, and how do they influence my mood and focus?

Each answer points directly to the raw material feeding our neural clusters. By consciously managing these elements, we exercise agency over the very architecture of our brains.

A practical implication of this is the role of deliberate practice and intentional exposure. When we repeatedly expose ourselves to high-quality, growth-oriented inputs — such as constructive feedback, skill-building exercises, inspiring conversations, or well-researched information — we literally rewire our clusters toward competence and clarity. Over time, this raises the baseline quality of our decision-making, because the brain is drawing from better-formed patterns.

Conversely, failing to guard inputs leaves us vulnerable to cognitive manipulation. Modern neuroscience and psychology show how easily attention and emotion can be steered by algorithms, marketing, and social influence. Repeated exposure to emotionally charged but inaccurate content can create distorted clusters that feel as “real” as factual ones. Once embedded, these clusters influence perception automatically, leading people to act on biases without ever questioning them.

This is why awareness is not enough. Guarding inputs requires discipline. It means setting boundaries on what information we consume, being selective about the environments we immerse ourselves in, and cultivating habits that nourish rather than erode our mental clarity. Just as an athlete protects their diet to ensure peak performance, anyone seeking mental clarity must protect their informational diet. The stakes are no less significant: what we allow in determines the shape of what comes out.

Feeling Before Thought: The Brain’s Shortcut System

One of the most fascinating and widely documented features of the brain is that emotion often precedes cognition. Decisions rarely emerge from a purely rational evaluation of facts. Instead, feelings — the output of deeply embedded neural clusters — act as fast, automatic signals that guide behaviour even before conscious thought begins. This system is not a flaw, but a biological shortcut shaped by millions of years of evolution.

At the heart of this process is the limbic system, a network of structures including the amygdala, hippocampus, and parts of the hypothalamus. The amygdala, in particular, acts as a rapid-response centre for emotionally salient stimuli. It can trigger physiological reactions — such as increased heart rate, rapid breathing, or muscle tension — in milliseconds, long before the prefrontal cortex has processed the input consciously. These reactions are the body’s way of signalling: “Pay attention. Act now.”

The reason this happens is that the brain prioritises speed over accuracy when it comes to survival-relevant information. A rustle in the bushes might signal a predator. If the cortex paused to analyse probabilities, the individual might not survive. As a result, neural clusters associated with emotion fire first, activating patterns of past experience that assign meaning and urgency to incoming inputs. The brain is essentially saying: “Based on similar past events, here’s what you should feel and how you should act.”

These emotional signals are then tagged to incoming information in the clusters themselves. This is why the first impression of a situation often sticks so strongly: it is emotionally encoded. Neural ensembles carrying emotional weight become reference points for all future related experiences, biasing perception and decision-making. For instance, if a person’s past interactions with a colleague have been tense, even neutral behaviour from that colleague can trigger a pre-conscious emotional response, shaping the cluster before conscious evaluation occurs.

This phenomenon explains why people often act before they think. When faced with a choice, the brain automatically activates clusters linking the present situation to past experiences, complete with emotional tone. By the time we begin to consciously weigh pros and cons, the decision may already be partly made in the limbic-driven patterns of the clusters. The conscious mind is often engaged in rationalising or justifying what the subconscious has already flagged.

Neuroscience calls this a dual-process system: the fast, automatic, emotional system (sometimes called System 1) operates alongside the slower, deliberate, reasoning system (System 2). System 1 is efficient, quick, and indispensable for survival, but it is prone to bias and error. System 2 can intervene, but only if there is awareness and sufficient cognitive bandwidth. Understanding this interplay is critical for moving from reactive behaviour to intentional action.

Importantly, emotional precedence is not deterministic; it is malleable. By deliberately shaping the inputs to our clusters — through mindful attention, reflective practice, and emotional literacy — we can modulate which feelings are triggered and how strongly. For example, if repeated experiences link new challenges with curiosity and engagement rather than fear, the emotional signal guiding action changes. The clusters themselves are updated to generate more constructive feelings before thought.

This system also explains why gut feelings are so powerful. These “intuitive” responses are often the summation of multiple clusters firing in parallel, integrating sensory, emotional, and memory-based inputs. While they may feel instantaneous and inexplicable, they are grounded in a deeply learned architecture of the brain, built over a lifetime of experiences.

Finally, recognising that feelings guide action before thought is essential for understanding both human behaviour and leadership. When guiding clients, teams, or oneself, it is insufficient to appeal only to logic. Effective action arises from attending to the emotional architecture of clusters, understanding which feelings are being triggered, and helping them align with desired outcomes. Only by working with this emotional pre-processing can action become intentional rather than reactive.

Assumptions vs Facts: The Filters We Forget We’re Using

Every perception we have, every idea we form, passes through a set of mental filters shaped by prior experience, emotional significance, and repeated patterns of neural activity. These filters divide the world into what we treat as facts — verifiable, observable, and repeatable reality — and what we treat as assumptions — beliefs we accept without proof, often influenced by habit, culture, or emotion. Neuroscience shows that these filters are embedded deeply in the structure of our neural clusters, influencing how information is stored, interpreted, and acted upon.

Neural clusters, by their very nature, integrate new inputs with existing patterns. When new information arrives, the brain attempts to categorise it, often drawing on existing clusters. If an input aligns with an established cluster, it is assimilated quickly; if it conflicts, the brain either weakens the input’s influence or forces a reinterpretation to fit the cluster. This is the biological basis for confirmation bias — the tendency to accept evidence that supports existing beliefs while discounting evidence that challenges them. Over time, clusters built on repeated assumptions can feel just as real as clusters built on verified facts.

Facts, by contrast, are anchored in objective data. They exist independently of personal interpretation and can be tested, repeated, and verified. The brain encodes facts in clusters that integrate sensory evidence with memory and logical evaluation. For example, observing that a meeting starts at 10 a.m. and confirming it across multiple sources allows the cluster representing that fact to become stable and reliable. Facts strengthen clusters in a measurable, replicable way.

Assumptions, on the other hand, are more fluid. They often emerge from emotional or experiential shortcuts, where the brain extrapolates patterns based on limited input. If a colleague once missed a deadline, a cluster may form associating that person with unreliability. Every subsequent interaction may reinforce this assumption, even when the individual behaves differently. The cluster is updated with each input, but because it is coloured by past patterns and emotion, the update may be skewed. Assumptions become self-reinforcing loops, shaping perception and behaviour in ways that may diverge from reality.

Crucially, neural clusters do not label information as “fact” or “assumption” on their own. That evaluation is done by higher cognitive processes, mainly in the prefrontal cortex, but only after the cluster has already shaped emotional and attentional responses. This explains why feelings often precede conscious evaluation: the limbic system triggers a reaction based on the pattern in the cluster, and reasoning follows to justify or reinterpret it. In other words, we often act on assumptions before thinking, and reasoning is sometimes a post-hoc rationalisation rather than a guide to action.

Understanding this distinction is vital for decision-making. When assumptions are treated as facts, the clusters guiding perception and action may lead to systematic errors, poor judgments, and unintended outcomes. This is especially critical in high-stakes environments such as leadership, healthcare, and coaching, where misinterpreted patterns can cascade into large-scale consequences. By contrast, when assumptions are recognised and tested against observable reality, clusters can be updated accurately, improving the quality of both perception and action.

There are strategies to manage this process effectively. The first is awareness: recognising when a cluster is operating on an assumption rather than fact. Reflective practices, journaling, and mindful observation can reveal the patterns embedded in our clusters. The second is verification: seeking evidence that either supports or contradicts the assumption, and allowing clusters to be updated accordingly. The third is curation of inputs: deliberately feeding the brain high-quality, factual information, as discussed in the previous section, so clusters develop a reliable foundation for decision-making.

Finally, recognising assumptions versus facts helps us navigate interpersonal dynamics. Each person’s clusters are different, shaped by unique experiences and emotional histories. What seems “obvious” to one person may be a false assumption to another. By approaching interactions with curiosity and verification rather than automatic acceptance of our own assumptions, we can reduce miscommunication and improve collaboration. This requires not just cognitive effort, but emotional and social awareness, highlighting how perception, memory, emotion, and thought are inseparably linked in human decision-making.

From Idea to Action: How Neural Clusters Drive Implementation

Once sensory inputs are filtered, clustered, and tagged with emotion, the brain begins the complex work of translating perception into idea formation. Ideas are rarely born fully formed; they emerge as patterns across multiple neural ensembles. A single input — a new fact, observation, or emotional signal — can activate multiple clusters, linking memory, expectation, and creativity in a dynamic interplay. The brain is constantly generating possible associations, evaluating them unconsciously before conscious thought arrives.

This process explains why action often precedes conscious reasoning. The clusters activated by incoming stimuli bring with them embedded patterns of past behaviour, learned responses, and emotional associations. When a familiar situation arises, the brain can effectively “pre-load” a probable action based on these clusters. Conscious thought often appears to follow, rationalising what the brain has already begun to execute. Understanding this can transform how we approach idea generation and implementation, because it shifts the focus from purely rational planning to managing the inputs and patterns that shape automatic responses.

The next step is idea consolidation. The prefrontal cortex integrates the outputs of multiple clusters, comparing potential actions against goals, values, and context. This is where deliberate planning begins. The brain asks: Which ideas are feasible? Which align with our values? Which address the constraints of the situation? At this stage, clusters previously formed from assumptions, facts, and emotional weighting are evaluated, and those that pass the filter are strengthened for execution.

Crucially, the quality of the clusters feeding this process determines the quality of the resulting action. Inputs that are inaccurate, biased, or emotionally skewed create clusters that may feel urgent or compelling but lead to ineffective or harmful actions. Conversely, well-curated, high-quality inputs produce clusters that facilitate clear, deliberate, and adaptable behaviour. This underscores the importance of guarding inputs, as discussed in earlier sections: the decisions we make are only as good as the patterns our brains have formed.

Once a decision is activated in the prefrontal cortex, the motor planning and execution systems take over. The basal ganglia and motor cortices translate the chosen action into concrete behaviour. Feedback from sensory systems and internal states continually informs execution, creating a closed-loop system in which action and perception constantly influence each other. For example, reaching to pick up a cup involves not just pre-planned movement, but continuous adjustments based on touch, weight, and grip feedback. In complex decision-making, similar loops occur at a cognitive level: action informs thought, thought informs action, and each cycle updates the underlying clusters.

Importantly, barriers to action often emerge at this interface. Even when ideas are clear and clusters are well-formed, humans can hesitate due to fear, uncertainty, low self-trust, or emotional fatigue. Neuroscience shows that the amygdala can activate inhibitory signals in the prefrontal cortex, slowing or halting execution when perceived risk or negative emotional charge is high. This explains why people may “know what to do” but fail to act — the neural clusters driving caution or fear temporarily override the clusters pushing toward action.

To overcome these barriers, deliberate micro-action steps can be implemented. By breaking an idea into small, achievable steps, the brain receives repeated feedback of success, which reinforces positive clusters and gradually reduces the dominance of inhibitory patterns. Over time, this process strengthens the neural architecture supporting confident, intentional action.

Ultimately, the journey from idea to action is an iterative, cluster-driven process. Sensory inputs form clusters, clusters shape emotion and assumptions, clusters inform conscious thought, and clusters drive action. Each loop updates and reshapes the brain, creating the potential for increasingly sophisticated and aligned behaviour. Understanding this pathway allows us to intervene intentionally: curate inputs, monitor assumptions, attend to emotional signals, and design actions in ways that align with long-term goals and values.

Perception to Action: Building a Framework for Intentional Decision-Making

When we step back and look at the full arc from perception to action, what emerges is not a straight line but a living system — a feedback loop where inputs, clusters, emotion, thought, and behaviour are constantly shaping one another. To understand this system is to see how we can take more ownership of our decisions, rather than being carried along by automatic responses.

It begins with sensors and inputs. Our sensory systems, supported by interoception, constantly stream data to the brain. This raw input is not simply recorded — it is filtered, sorted, and placed into clusters, each one holding patterns of association. These clusters are not static; they are updated every time a new input arrives, meaning learning is an unending process. What matters most here is the quality of the input. High-quality, fact-based inputs lead to clusters that support clarity and confidence, while poor-quality, biased, or emotionally charged inputs produce clusters that distort perception and limit effective decision-making.

Once clusters are activated, the emotional system steps in. The limbic system responds more quickly than the reasoning centres of the brain, creating emotional “colouring” before conscious thought has time to catch up. This is why we so often feel before we think — our clusters trigger automatic signals that shape the way we interpret the world. These emotional signals can be protective and efficient, but they can also reinforce unexamined assumptions.

At this stage, the brain distinguishes between assumptions and facts, though often imperfectly. Assumptions arise from incomplete or biased patterns, while facts are grounded in consistent, verifiable reality. The difficulty is that both are stored in clusters, and both can feel equally true in the moment. Unless we pause and test our assumptions, they may masquerade as facts, guiding our behaviour without our awareness.

Next comes idea formation and evaluation. The prefrontal cortex gathers outputs from multiple clusters, compares them against memory and goals, and begins to consolidate possible courses of action. Here, the brain’s constructive nature is most visible: perception is not just about receiving data, but about assembling it into meaningful possibilities. Creativity happens when unexpected clusters are linked, while evaluation comes when the brain checks feasibility, risk, and alignment with values.

Then comes the moment of translation into action. The decision pathway activates motor systems, and behaviour unfolds. But this is not the end of the process. Each action generates new sensory inputs, which feed back into clusters, updating them with fresh learning. This creates a continuous loop — perception shaping action, action reshaping perception. The system is fluid, alive, and always in motion.

So why do people sometimes fail to act even when the path seems clear? Here, inhibitory signals play a crucial role. The amygdala, sensitive to risk and fear, can override action signals, especially when clusters are saturated with assumptions of failure, low self-trust, or emotional fatigue. In these cases, the brain’s protective wiring blocks action to avoid potential harm. This is not laziness, but a form of neural self-preservation.

The pathway from perception to action can therefore be intentionally shaped at multiple points. We can guard the quality of our inputs, cultivate awareness of emotional signals, test assumptions against facts, and design supportive environments that reduce fear while encouraging clarity. Most importantly, we can train ourselves to act in micro-steps, reinforcing clusters of confidence and capability until larger actions become natural extensions of learned behaviour.

Perception, then, is not just reception — it is construction. Every decision we make is constructed from clusters of input, shaped by emotion, filtered through assumptions, tested by reasoning, and enacted through behaviour. By becoming conscious architects of this system, we move from being passengers of our brain’s automatic patterns to being active choreographers of our choices.

This framework is not only useful for individuals but also for leaders, educators, and coaches. In any context where action is needed, understanding how perception builds the architecture of reality allows us to present ideas in ways that resonate, reduce resistance, and inspire movement. In the end, the art of decision-making is the art of managing perception — our own and that of others — so that ideas do not remain trapped in thought but take shape in the world as action.

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