Chapter VII begins with a bold challenge to one of modern philosophy’s most influential traditions. Henri Bergson, in his evolving vision of thought and life, steps away from the rigid contours drawn by thinkers like Kant. Where Kant enclosed reason within the bounds of structure and critique, Bergson sees such confinement as inadequate for understanding the living, breathing nature of thought. Rather than treating knowledge as a construct examined through static methods, he asks us to view it as part of life’s ever-changing rhythm. The conventional method, based on dissecting spontaneous mental activities, restricts understanding instead of expanding it. By leaning on backward-looking critique, traditional philosophy risks detaching reason from its origins in motion and creativity.

Bergson turns toward life as the proper foundation for understanding consciousness. He argues that life isn’t a mechanism but an unfolding, a spiritual activity that does not stay still but always evolves. Intelligence, for him, is one path among several taken by thought—useful, yes, but not the whole. It has evolved to serve action, to fix moments into categories that support survival and communication. Yet, in doing so, it loses touch with the deeper fluidity of living experience. Its nature is analytic, linguistic, and practical—but often misses what flows beneath. Bergson doesn’t reject intelligence but places it within a larger framework of mental possibility. Its limitations, he insists, become clear only when contrasted with intuition.

Intuition offers access to a richer, more integrated form of knowing. Where intelligence isolates and defines, intuition unites and embraces. It does not slice reality into manageable pieces but attempts to grasp it as a whole, even if briefly. This philosophical intuition, rooted in experience rather than abstraction, offers clarity not through dissection but through resonance. It allows us to participate in the movement of life instead of merely observing it from a distance. For Bergson, this method doesn’t oppose reason but complements and deepens it. Intuition taps into the strands of consciousness that evolution didn’t discard but simply diverted from practical intelligence. In that reconnection, a fuller image of thought and existence begins to form.

In this view, reason is not a completed form but an evolving function. It grows and bends along with consciousness, capable of expanding to meet new realities. Bergson sees reason not as a finished product but as a seed still unfolding. When fixed in place, it hardens into dogma; when allowed to move, it transforms understanding. His critique is not merely about method—it is about reclaiming a wider scope of knowing. Intelligence becomes only one melody in a broader harmony of thought. To rediscover intuition is to rediscover music beneath the noise of facts.

The chapter proposes that knowledge itself must be reimagined. It is not just accumulation, but connection. Bergson advocates for a shift away from dissecting experiences toward immersing in them. Through intuition, the knower and the known are no longer separate, but momentarily one. This unity reflects the core truth of his philosophy: that life and thought are not strangers, but reflections of each other. Evolution, far from being a simple biological process, becomes a philosophical journey of consciousness expanding into new realms. Each advance in life is mirrored by a possible advance in thought. Thus, knowledge evolves not by force, but by attunement.

This vision does not call for abandoning analysis but for situating it within a more flexible, human approach. We are reminded that language and structure, though powerful, do not exhaust the meaning of existence. The nuances of time, memory, freedom, and self cannot be trapped in formulas. They must be felt, lived, intuited. Bergson’s redefinition of reason encourages humility in philosophy—an openness to dimensions of life that resist easy expression. He does not close doors but opens windows into fields of possibility that our current understanding barely touches.

In closing, Bergson invites a deeper engagement with the world—not through intellectual conquest, but through intuitive collaboration. He reframes reason as a partner in creation, not merely a critic of it. In this partnership, knowledge becomes a living, moving experience rather than a static possession. It breathes, it unfolds, and it reflects the creative essence of life itself. What he offers is not just a new method but a new posture toward reality—one that seeks harmony over mastery, presence over distance. Through this lens, the human mind is no longer a mirror of a fixed world but a participant in an unfinished universe.