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Category: Mine

Law of Correspondence 2.

 

Throw a rock into the ocean.

Your rock causes ripples. Those ripples interact with waves and tides and currents and other ripples to create a symphony of effects, which are influenced in invisible ways by an infinitude of other disturbances.

Chaos is a cacophony, yet there is order.

Everything interacts with everything else. Until entropy.

The consequences of your rock cannot all be hung around your neck. We generate our own world, we throw rocks, but so does everyone and everything else.

Because we can only imagine the changed molecules of wavelets breaking on distant shores as a result of our rock, does not mean that our rock had no impact. It did.

The infinite interactions of the ripples of our rock with all of the other events in the ocean may be unknowable for us, but it does not mean that they are unknowable.

There is an ocean. There is a rock. There are laws of the universe.

Except that the universe is not an ocean, and actions and thoughts, which are indistinguishable from one another, are not rocks.

And the laws of the universe include the caveat that all laws have their neutralizing opposite.

Including the law that there are no laws.

The Law of Correspondence.

 

I believe that serendipity is dictated by the law of correspondence.

Everything is connected to everything. There are no coincidences.

My therapist dismisses this as “magical thinking,” as though this is a criticism rather than an observation. I laugh at him.

Clark observed that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

O’Toole’s Corollary of Finagle’s Law posits that the perversity of the universe tends towards a maximum. For me, that about covers it.

Just because we subconsciously create the events of our lives does not mean that we are not responsible for them.

Dimly apprehending the implications of our experiences is just another revelation about the limitations of our thinking.

Because we create ourselves thinking about ourselves creating ourselves thinking about ourselves, we dance along a perpetual precipice.

What is vertigo, if not a glance into the abyss?