God doesn’t have a plan for you (II)
I likened the situation to a hill with a new stream at the top—the stream flows down the rocky hillside and it probes its way down to the bottom; it has no purpose, though it has direction—it must go down, it is drawn to the nullity. It can be likened to a evolutionary tree as it develops, or to lightning, or to the veins in your arm—the process is the purpose, the courses it takes that are blocked are not wasted (it’s how the whole finds its way, and sometimes it will wear down an obstacle in time).
However, this picture is not quite complete—and, perhaps, with its final assertion that “it all comes to nothing” it may seem cause for despair again; the process is the purpose, but you say the process comes to nothing. The analogy should be extended, in a non-geographically-accurate way, so that the stream that seeks the bottom of the hill arrives at a river and the river itself feeds into the stream on the hill—so that the whole forms a circle.
The above example can be taken in a purely materialistic sense—the process is the purpose, you are one branch in the biological sense; you are a genetic fingertip that reaches out, perhaps you fail to reproduce—perhaps your children die—but this was the ultimate outcome from a biological process that you cannot escape; perhaps, eventually, it births the Nietzschean overman; and perhaps it was the overman—or the “over-AI”—that started the whole process to begin with.
Yet we could say that streams that run down hills, veins in your arms, forked lightning, and evolutionary trees are all reflections of a metaphysical reality. It could be said that the Godhead is light that splits itself and then seeks to return to itself as a lightning fork, it probes its way through history until it reconnects with “the river”—when it reconnects it becomes whole, it hums with total consciousness. In order to know itself, the Godhead split itself, recused itself into the void, zero, that draws the light back to itself; hence it becomes invisible to those people involved in the process, although it is, as Kant observed, the case that reality—not actuality but reality—is pure possibility, that which contains most possibilities (as symbolised by zero, since it can be anything, large or small, and yet is nothing while also being eternal).
It is “the grain of mustard” that is too small for people to bend down to see; and it is represented by the hermaphrodite because the hermaphrodite is unimaginable, being a combination of male and female (or, as with Abraxas, rooster and snake)—it’s like Plato’s divided spheres that seek their “other half”, it’s pure possibility. It is “the image of God”, it draws us on. This is why transgenderism is Satanic, it inverts the image of God by making it a literal material operation rather than being a symbolic form for the nullity that draw us towards it to complete itself. However, even this can only be a temporary dead end as the process continues itself and so deviation is of no actual consequence—this is why evil acts are ultimately unimportant and not significant.
In fact, there is no “problem of evil” because all the various forks and dead ends—that perhaps represent massacres, cancers, mutilations, and despair—constitute the necessary process by which the Godhead comes to know itself; it is through “the rocks” that the Godhead makes itself invisible to itself so as to seek itself—it’s hide and seek, it’s all done with mirrors. There are local “evils” and “mistakes” but globally, sub specie aeternitatis, there are no mistakes—and it is not possible for you to make a mistake either, because you are part of the process itself, and when it finds the path to reconnect with itself the entire network will hum with self-knowledge all the way back up the hill.