Circles and Self-Corrections

The cosmos self-corrects, and that certainly includes the human portion of the cosmos, to the extent it may be regarded separately.

One might object that to say the cosmos self-corrects is to suggest that “The Whole” itself is flawed, which might reasonably lead one to ask, “Flawed against what standard?” Nevertheless it is so, although I prefer to say incomplete rather than flawed — and in fact perpetually incomplete. We must keep in mind, however, that when we speak here of “the cosmos,” we are speaking of that which is in motion, which is to say that which is enmattered. Hence, we are speaking of what is imperfect (or “flawed”) by definition, since incompletion is the meaning of matter.

The cosmos, to clarify further, is self-correcting in the strict sense that a circle may be understood as self-correcting, relative to a point. The circle inclines forever toward its own center, maintaining unwavering attentiveness and inexhaustible dedication to its goal, and yet never reaching it — that failure itself, paradoxically, perhaps being the source of its inexhaustibility.

I implied at the outset of this musing that there might be a sense in which the cosmos and mankind are inseparable. In that sense alone, which is to say to that extent, mankind must also, qua enmattered and temporal, incline unswervingly toward the center. Thus human life, understood essentially, is the circumference of an everlasting, or rather ever-turning, circle. We too are a self-aware imperfection that forever seeks its completion, a self-moving arc perpetually longing for its point. 

The degree to which this perspective seems alien to our experience today is the measure of our separation from the cosmos with which our souls are naturally aligned — which is to say the measure of our distance from ourselves. We are living in a faraway world of sharp turns and short, jagged lines.