The Irony of Understanding: The Loop of Needing to Make Sense

I began this journey with a simple question: what does it mean?

When I first realized I could measure patterns in the stock market, I asked a scientist to review my work. I thought he would see what I saw - the rhythm beneath the noise - but we spoke different languages. He spoke in facts and definitions, I spoke in patterns and meaning.

I told him I wasn't predicting the future, I was organizing what already wanted to happen - the movement of energy as it found balance. Still, we circled the same question. "Did it go there because you said it world, or did you say it because it was going there?"

It felt like a lop - until he called me back.

He said, "I looked again. There is a correlation. I don't think you should stop this work. I just don't know what it means"

And that was the irony.

Because that's exactly what I was searching for too. Maybe what it means is that life isn't random at all - that systems and energy naturally self-organize into patterns we can begin to read. Maybe understanding isn't the end of the loop, but the point where science and meaning finally start speaking the same language.

But I've come to see that this loop doesn't just happen in conversations between scientists and dreamers - it happens everywhere.

When people don't understand something, they often decide it can't be real. We label it crazy or impossible because it doesn't fit our existing definitions. Yet every new discovery once looked that way.

Just because you don't know what something means doesn't mean it isn't real. It simply means that its meaning hasn't yet been agreed upon. It means the field of possibility is still open - waiting for you to decide what it will mean to you.

In the end, maybe meaning itself is a kind of energy - one that organizes not just data, but experience. And when we stop trying to make sense of everything long enough to simply notice the pattern, understanding starts to emerge on its own.

The other funny thing I noticed along the way was how many people suggested I keep this to myself. "Start your own hedge fund", they said - as if the only value of discovery is what it can earn. These weren't unkind people; they were successful men around me, the ones who understood how the world usually works. But it always struck me as strange - that the moment something truly new appears, our first instinct is to privatize it.

And maybe the real irony is this: I think part of them believed what I found couldn't be real unless I planned to use it for myself. As if truth must always come with an angle.

But I didn't build this to keep it hidden. I built it to understand - and to share that understanding. Somewhere deep down, I always believed it could be both: I could share it freely and be rewarded for it. Because the truth is never one of the other - it's always both. It's giving and receiving, science and meaning, energy and form. If the universe really is connected, then knowledge doesn't belong to anyone. It belongs to all of us - and the moment we share it, it multiplies. That's how the field works. That's how energy moves. And that how truth grows.