This post is part of my Notes on Divination series. This gets somewhat philosophical and is rough and not organized, so bear with me.
I already talked about the limitations of free will in divination. Undoubtedly I will need to talk a lot more about it in the future. For now, though, I want to discuss the other side of the coin, namely predestination.
Predesination is the idea that the future is predetermined. This is already vague, because the way in which the future is supposed to be predetermined changes based on the particular view: the way in which a flower necessarily follows from a seed is not the same way as the ending of a movie necessarily follows its beginning. No matter how many times you rewind, Baby Jane always snaps. She cannot do otherwise, for her life has been scripted and it plays out from beginning to end according to the script.
In the case of the seed, although there are contingent factors at play (for instance, the quality of the soil or the amount of water it receives) we are talking about a form of internal necessity. Baby Jane’s life, though, is determined by external factors: she is nothing more than what the author of the book and those of the movie wanted her to be.
The question is: could Baby Jane understand that her life is so predetermined, if someone told her? Let us suppose that the writers had added a scene where she consults a diviner and has her fortunes told to her. The diviner is a good one, and correctly tells her what is going to happen to her, her sister, etc.
Does this change things? The answer, in this case, is no. It doesn’t change anything, because the fortune teller’s scene has also been scripted and plays out for the same reason every other scene in the movie plays out. From an external standpoint, the meeting with the diviner would be no different than any other part of the movie. It would be just another link in the chain.
But this is not how divination works in real life. In real life, we don’t have the privilege of an external poit of view from which to witness our existence in the same way as when we watch a movie. We can watch a movie because we are not in any meaningful sense part of it.
But we are part of life. We are part of the flow of existence. More specifically, we are that section of existence that is capable of reflecting on existence itself, or, if we want to get trippy, we are the section of existence through which existence reflects on itself: we are existence’s self-consciousness.
This has enormous consequences on our freedom. Let us suppose someone tried to argue that our life is predetermined by a kind of external destiny that uses us like sockpuppets in the same way a character is written by a writer.
The first and most important consequence is that the very fact that they are saying that we are predetermined would itself be predetermined. That is to say, the person does not believe that we are predetermined because it is true that we are predetermined, but because he or she has been written as a fatalist.
Of course, the person in question would like to argue back that they are a fatalist because it is true that we are predetermined. But in defending this view, what they are truly saying is “everything is predetermined, except me when I argue that everything is predetermined.” This is obviously inconsistent: a theory–any theory–must be consistent with its own uttering. But fatalism cannot be truly uttered without incurring self-contradiction. The moment one says “Everything is predetermined,” they place themselves outside of the destiny they try to describe.
This happens for a subtle reason. Consciousness is inherently the place of freedom. It would take me a whole treatise to discuss this (and maybe I will write one at some point) but to be concise, we cannot be conscious of something without placing ourselves outside of it and beyond it. If I am conscious of this pen or this flower, this pen or this flower are the object of my attention, and I am the subject. No matter how strictly connected subject and object are, they are not the same, and when they are, there is no consciousness.*
If you read a few paragraphs back, I said that we are essentially existence’s self-consciousness. This means that through us existence perceives itself as its own object. Furthermore, in being conscious of itself, existence moves beyond necessity, exactly in the same way that any person (even a fatalist) places themselves outside of their own fatalism by being conscious of it.
In the next blog post I will discuss more closely how the ideas I just presented impact divination.
MQS
* I know that mystics like to argue that the subject-object distinction is artificial, but I’ll leave this for another post. My short answer is that without duality, unity is barren, while without unity, duality is inconsistent and inconceivable.
