Eternal recurrence

Ouroboros

We are all born into a script, no free choice, only in the marginal aspects, we are all destined to an eternal return, or eternal recurrence, it’s the theory that existence recurs in an infinite cycle as energy and matter transform over time. And we are also are born into fixed roles (formed by some hereditary plus powerful social environment), one way or another – we live in a loop.

Nietzsche dedicated much of his work to the concept of eternal return.

The philosopher and writer Albert Camus explores the notion of “eternal return” in his essay on “The Myth of Sisyphus”, in which the repetitive nature of existence comes to represent life’s absurdity. We are deeply convinced that we are advancing all the time, but this is not an advancement, not personally, not humanly, and not in how we treat each other, it is merely a technological and scientific advancement that covers up the lack of ontological, core, genuine authentic progression – in our real life.

But at the same time, we live in a safe world, because it is forecastable; we know deep in us what is supposed to happen, because it happens all the time, there is a kind of deep print in the air of the many times it happened before, and the tendency to happen again is very powerful, we feel it deep inside and it gives us feeling of security; knowing that things are opprating they way they are supposed to. That everything is rolling on the way it should, it was this way for thousands of years and it is continue to be so. That man over there – should be there, and so on, everything is as it should. The actors are acting according to the script.

All progression is frozen into one dimensional circle, not a growing spiral, a circle. This rotating circle is safe, always returning to the same spot, so the awareness is getting lesser and lesser, and the actors of the script are falling asleep in the midst of their life.

There are two kinds of exceptions to the circle’s bound majority; the first group are those who are born within the circle but are kind of loose within it, not completely chained to a role in the script, and so can find a way to break out and strat to create their own growing high consciousness spiral. (Usually, not without a training)

The other group are those who are born outside of the circle, of the script. They are the misfits, the highly sensitive persons, loseres, outsiders. They suffer all their life for not being in the script, but they (with the proper training) could be seeds also for a growing spiral, multi dimensional structure, its top is high consciousness. 

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But such a person – will start to feel strange, being a growing spiral – people will not recognize him, he is not supposed to be where he is, he is out of line, he is not in the script. People who do not know him might just treat him as an oddball, someone a bit strange, that’s all, but people who are close to him would find it difficult to know how to deal with him, now that he is not behaving according to the script of everyone, they are afraid, afraid that the acting out of script – would attach itself to them, so they run away from this free agent – back into the safe convention and conformity of to circle.
But every once in a while, an unregistered catastrophe is happening, and then no one knows how to behave. Like the CoronaVirus, it is clear that everyone is lost, no script, it never happened before, everyone behaves totally erratically, running around aimlessly, not knowing how to act, they have no prior instruction. No script at all.

***


Quotes

What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun. ~ Ecclesiastes 1:9

  • Someone once told me, ‘Time is a flat circle.’ Everything we’ve ever done or will do, we’re gonna do over and over and over again. And that little boy and that little girl, they’re gonna be in that room again and again and again forever.

  • Time ProphetTime begins, and then time ends,
    and then time begins once again
    It is happening now, it has happened before,
    it will surely happen again.
  • Paul Donovan & Lex Gigeroff, Lexx, “Brigadoom”, (April 9, 1999).

Even if there were exceedingly few things in a finite space in an infinite time, they would not have to repeat in the same configurations. Suppose there were three wheels of equal size, rotating on the same axis, one point marked on the circumference of each wheel, and these three points lined up in one straight line. If the second wheel rotated twice as fast as the first, and if the speed of the third wheel was 1/π of the speed of the first, the initial line-up would never recur.

Walter Kaufmann, Nietzsche: Philosopher, Psychologist, Antichrist p. 327

  • 208. […] If one now goes on to consider that, not only a book, but every action performed by a human being becomes in some way the cause of other actions, decisions, thoughts, that everything that happens is inextricably knotted to everything that will happen, one comes to recognize the existence of an actual immortality, that of motion: what has once moved is enclosed and eternalized in the total union of all being like an insect in amber.

  • 341. The heaviest weight. – What if some day or night a demon were to steal into your loneliest loneliness and say to you : ‘This life as you now live it and have lived it you will have to live once again and innumerable times again; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh and everything unspeakably small or great in your life must return to you, all in the same succession and sequence – even this spider and this moonlight between the trees, and even this moment and I myself. The eternal hourglass of existence is turned over again and again, and you with it, speck of dust!’ Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus? Or have you once experienced a tremendous moment when you would have answered him: ‘You are a god, and never have I heard anything more divine. ‘ If this thought gained power over you, as you are it would transform and possibly crush you; the question in each and every thing, ‘Do you want this again and innumerable times again?’ would lie on your actions as the heaviest weight! Or how well disposed would you have to become to yourself and to life to long for no thing more fervently than for this ultimate eternal confirmation and seal?

  • Must not what ever can already have passed this way before? Must not what ever can happen, already have happened, been done, passed by before? And if everything has already been here before, what do you think of this moment, dwarf? Must this gateway too not already – have been here? And are not all things firmly knotted together in such a way that this moment draws after it all things to come? Therefore – itself as well? For,whatever can run, even in this long lane outward–must run it once more! – And this slow spider that creeps in the moonlight, and this moonlight itself, and I and you in the gateway whispering together, whispering of eternal things – must not all of us have been here before? –And return and run in that other lane, outward, before us, in this long, eerie lane – must we not return eternally? –”
    • Friedrich NietzscheThus Spoke Zarathustra, On the Vision and the Riddle, translated by Adrian del Caro

  • I, Zarathustra, the advocate of life, the advocate of suffering, the advocate of the circle – you I summon, my most abysmal thought!
    Hail to me! You are coming – I hear you! My abyss speaks,I have unfolded my ultimate depth to the light!
    Hail to me! Here now! Give me your hand – ha! Let go! Haha! – Nausea, nausea, nausea – oh no!

  • 56. Anyone like me, who has tried for a long time and with some enigmatic desire, to think pessimism through to its depths and to deliver it from the half-Christian, half-German narrowness and naivete with which it has finally presented itself to this century, namely in the form of the Schopenhauerian philosophy; anyone who has ever really looked with an Asiatic and supra-Asiatic eye into and down at the most world-negating of all possible ways of thinking – beyond good and evil, and no longer, like Schopenhauer and the Buddha, under the spell and delusion of morality –; anyone who has done these things (and perhaps precisely by doing these things) will have inadvertently opened his eyes to the inverse ideal: to the ideal of the most high-spirited, vital, world-affirming individual, who has learned not just to accept and go along with what was and what is, but who wants it again just as it was and is through all eternity, insatiably shouting da capo not just to himself but to the whole play and performance, and not just to a performance, but rather, fundamentally, to the one who needs precisely this performance – and makes it necessary: because again and again he needs himself – and makes himself necessary. – – What? and that wouldn’t be –circulus vitiosus deus?

  • Supreme star of being!
    Tablet of eternal forms!
    You come towards me? —
    Why hasn’t anyone beheld
    Your mute beauty —
    Why doesn’t it escape my gaze?Sign of necessity!
    Tablet of eternal forms!
    — But of course you know it:
    What everyone hates,
    What I alone love,
    That you are eternal!
    That you are necessary!
    My love is ever ignited
    Only through necessity.Sign of necessity!
    Supreme star of being! —
    That no desire attains,
    That no No desecrates,
    Eternal Yes of being,
    Eternally I am your Yes:
    For I love you, O eternity! — —

*

Patterns

Simon & GarfunkelThe night sets softly
With the hush of falling leaves
Casting shivering shadows
On the houses through the treesAnd the light from a street lamp
Paints a pattern on my wall
Like the pieces of a puzzle
Or a child’s uneven scrawlUp a narrow flight of stairs
In a narrow little room
As I lie upon my bed
In the early evening gloomImpaled on my wall
My eyes can dimly see
The pattern of my life
And the puzzle that is meFrom the moment of my birth
To the instant of my death
There are patterns I must follow
Just as I must breathe each breathLike a rat in a maze
The path before me lies
And the pattern never alters
Until the rat diesAnd the pattern still remains
On the wall where darkness fell
And it’s fitting that it should
For in darkness I must dwellLike the color of my skin
Or the day that I grow old
My life is made of patterns
That can scarcely be controlled.

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