There are two contradictory states of the world:

1. The mere input, or collection of sensory stimuli at any given moment. This includes thought/consciousness input. Looking out onto a field, it is the image itself, the smell itself, the thought itself, devoid of any meaning or attachments. It is your perception of the field. To get the point across, I will say it's something like the blur of colors and shapes occupying your visual field–a line with blue above it and green under it, with specks of yellow in the green (*but even this is necessarily only an analogy, as will become evident later).

2. The superimposed network of systems, labels, and rules that we create and then use to make sense of the world, to interact with it. Language and concept. That, over there, away from me, is a field. It is green with yellow flowers. Above it is the sky and that is blue. etc. 

Importantly, both (1) and (2) are wholly dependent on our sense faculties, which come before all else. I mean, what we see depends on how we see, and how we see is a function of our human biology.  

We mistake (2) as being completely comprehensive, and forget that it must have been derived from something in the first place, namely, (1).

It is impossible to experience the world without (2).

(1) is not truer than (2), but (2) is not (1)

Ethics relates to (1), but philosophical ethics deals with (2). Philosophical ethics rarely acknowledges these facts and their discrepancy.

(2) persists always (I believe it may be possible to change your position in relation to (2), but you cannot kill it–killing it is a stupid and ignorant goal, though easy to romanticize)

The Good, and also God, relates to holding both truths at the same time.

It is easy to think, once you've seen the truth of (2), that (2) must be rejected in pursuit of (1). But in so doing, you are ignoring the most fundamental fact of their interdependence, and forgetting (2)'s necessary role in revealing its own insufficiency. A rejection of (2) is similar to a blind acceptance of (2) as all there is in the sense that it allows one to fall into habitual engagement with the world, devoid of effort.

Holding (1) and (2) at the same time is constantly effortful. This effort is moral.