The Primal Egg: Nothingness

From time to time I think of the following quandary: how can something come from nothing. It's a pleasant paradox that I usually put off to the side. It is unanswerable. I was up reading Carl Sagan the other night and the paradox crossed my mind once again. In the book The Varieties of Scientific Experience: A Personal View on the Search For God, Sagan wrote:

But I stress that the universe is mainly made of nothing, that something is the exception. Nothing is the rule. That darkness is a commonplace; it is light that is the rarity. As between darkness and light, I am unhesitatingly on the side of light. But we must remember that the universe is an almost complete and impenetrable darkness and the sparse sources of light, the stars, are far beyond our present ability to create or control.

This got me thinking of a time in my life when I thought I was being particularly clever. It was my senior year of college and I was taking a course called The Nature of Science. I had, of course, waited until the last minute to write the final paper. There I was the night before the paper was due and I had nothing to write about. That's where my flash of brilliance came in. If I had nothing to write about, why not write about nothing? Surely I could pen ten pages about nothing.

So that's just what I did. I wrote out ten pages of something about nothing. The main thrust of the paper was a meditation on how something could have come from nothing--and if it did, how could nothing exist--and thus how could something.

I got an A on the paper. The professor encouraged me to look at some ancient Arabic literature that grappled with the concept of zero. I promptly put the paper, and the professors comments, out of my mind. It wasn't until years later that it occurred to me that I might actually like to read the literature that he suggested. The professor is dead and the paper is long since lost.

Perhaps someone else might point me in the direction of this literature he suggested? I really want to read it now.

So anyway, thanks to Carl, I'm back to my old tricks thinking and writing about nothing.

This business of thinking about nothing is a surprisingly complicated task. There are myriad creation stories. They all find some way to describe the creation of something out of nothing. Yet none of the creation stories really take a crack at nothing. The stories always start at first light: something appears from nothing.

In the Christian world, the most famous creation story of all comes from the Bible. Did you know there are over 21 versions of the Bible collected at just one website? I poked around and discovered scores more. This nearly sent me into a hermanuntic fit. I've quoted three versions that caught my eye.

• In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was unformed and void, darkness was on the face of the deep and the Spirit of God hovered over the surface of the water. (Complete Jewish Bible)

• First this: God created the Heavens and Earth--all you see, all you don't see. Earth was a soup of nothingness, a bottomless emptiness and inky blackness. God's Spirit brooded like a bird above the watery abyss. (The Message)

• In the beginning God made of nought heaven and earth. (In the beginning God made out of nothing the heavens and the earth.). Forsooth the earth was idle and void and darkness were on the face of (the) depth; and the Spirit of the Lord was borne on the waters [and the Spirit of God was borne upon the waters]. (Wycliffe Bible)

I'm interested here in the nought mentioned in the Wycliffe Bible. What is the nature of the nought? Where did it come from and how did it get there? Most importantly--how did nought get there? How did something spring from nothing?

Really. If I think about this too long I go a little crazy.

How about a peek at some other creation stories? They don't offer up any help in this contemplation of nothing. They are interesting--especially in how each of them echos the same basic narrative found in the first two lines of the story of Genesis. More accurately put, the story of Genesis echos the narratives of these other creation stories.

Ancient Greeks:

• In the beginning there was nothing but Chaos, which was a void of nothingness. A black winged bird named Nyx emerged from the void. She laid a golden egg and sat on it for a very long time. The egg hatched and from it came Eros, the god of love. One half of the shell rose upward and became the sky. The other half of the shell stayed put and become the earth.

The Hopi:

• The world at first was endless space in which existed only the Creator, Taiowa. This world had no time, no shape, and no life, except in the mind of the Creator. Eventually the infinite creator created the finite in Sotuknang, whom he called his nephew and whom he created as his agent to establish nine universes. Sotuknang gathered together matter from the endless space to make the nine solid worlds. Then the Creator instructed him to gather together the waters from the endless space and place them on these worlds to make land and sea. When Sotuknang had done that, the Creator instructed him to gather together air to make winds and breezes on these worlds. (read more)

The Norse:

• In the beginning of time, there was nothing: neither sand, nor sea, nor cool waves. Neither the heaven nor earth existed. Instead, long before the earth was made, Niflheim was made, and in it a spring gave rise to twelve rivers. To the south was Muspell, a region of heat and brightness guarded by Surt, a giant who carried a flaming sword. To the north was frigid Ginnungagap, where the rivers froze and all was ice. Where the sparks and warm winds of Muspell reached the south side of frigid Ginnungagap, the ice thawed and dripped, and from the drips thickened and formed the shape of a man. His name was Ymir, the first of and ancestor of the frost-giants. (read more)

The Maori:

• All humans are descended from one pair of ancestors, Rangi and Papa, who are also called Heaven and Earth. In those days, Heaven and Earth clung closely together, and all was darkness. Rangi and Papa had six sons: Tane-mahuta, the father of the forests and their inhabitants; Tawhiri-ma-tea, the father of winds and storms; Tangaroa, the father of fish and reptiles; Tu-matauenga, the father of fierce human beings; Haumia-tikitiki, the father of food that grows without cultivation; and Rongo-ma-tane, the father of cultivated food. These six sons and all other beings lived in darkness for an extremely long time, able only to wonder what light and vision might be like. (read more)

The Jicarilla Apache:

• In the beginning there was nothing - no earth, no living beings. There were only darkness, water, and Cyclone, the wind. There were no humans, but only the Hactcin, the Jicarilla supernatural beings. The Hactcin made the earth, the underworld beneath it, and the sky above it. The earth they made as a woman who faces upward, and the sky they made as a man who faces downward. The Hactcin lived in the underworld, where there was no light. There were mountains and plants in the underworld, and each had its own Hactcin. There were as yet no animals or humans, and everything in the underworld existed in a dream-like state and was spiritual and holy. (read more)

Ancient India:

•  In the beginning there was absolutely nothing, and what existed was covered by death and hunger. He thought, "Let me have a self", and he created the mind. As he moved about in worship, water was generated. Froth formed on the water, and the froth eventually solidifed to become earth. He rested on the earth, and from his luminence came fire. After resting, he divided himself in three parts, and one is fire, one is the sun, and one is the air. (read more)

The Mossi People:

• In the beginning there was no earth, no day or night, and not even time itself. All that existed was the Kingdom of Everlasting Truth, which was ruled by the Naba Zid-Wendé. The Naba Zid-Wendé made the earth, and then they made the day and the night. To make the day a time to be busy, they made the sun, and to make the night a time of rest, they made the moon. In doing so, they made time itself. (read more)

Ancient China:

• Long, long ago, when heaven and earth were still one, the entire universe was contained in an egg-shaped cloud. All the matter of the universe swirled chaotically in that egg. Deep within the swirling matter was Pan Gu, a huge giant who grew in the chaos. For 18,000 years he developed and slept in the egg. Finally one day he awoke and stretched, and the egg broke to release the matter of the universe. The lighter purer elements drifted upwards to make the sky and heavens, and the heavier impure elements settled downwards to make the earth. (read more)

I could continue, but none of these creation stories are talking about nothingness. They are all concerned about the origin of things. They show us the birth of things--which in one way or another have sprung out of nothingness.

But what of nothing? That very well might be my point. Nothingness is the magic in our lives. There is nothing but what we make from the nothingness. So, as Alan Watts suggests, "Cheer up! This is the most incredible nothing. Nothingness is like the nothingness of space. It contains the universe. Out of this void comes everything and you're it."

Psyche

So someone on Twitter sent out the following tweet:

Indeed, the Greek word for butterfly is 'psyche' from where we get our word 'psychology' --the study of the mind.

This got me thinking about art museums of all things. I grew up in Cleveland. As a young adult I spent a significant amount of time wandering around the Cleveland Museum of Art. One of my favorite paintings is Jacques-Louis David's 1817 painting Cupid and Psyche.

Venus (aka Aphrodite), you see, was very jealous of Psyche's beauty. So jealous that she dispatched her son Cupid (aka Eros) to Earth to make Psyche fall in love with the ugliest man. Cupid agreed to his mother's bidding. As always seems to be the case in Roman (and Greek) mythology, things went differently. Cupid fell in love with Psyche and would visit her in a remote hiding place each night. Fearing of her discovering his identity, Cupid would slip away before sunrise each morning.

Psyche eventually figured out who came calling every evening. Her jealous sisters tricked her into looking at Cupid. When she did, he abandoned her. Psyche proceeded to travel the world looking for her lost love. She found his mother Aphrodite (talk about in-law problems!). Still being cranky at Psyche, Aphrodite had Psyche perform a series of difficult tasks which ended in a trip to the Underworld.

After these trials and tribulations, Psyche was eventually reunited with Eros. They were married in a ceremony that was attended by the various Roman gods.

Not exactly the image of psychology, is it? Is the tweet true? Is the myth of Psyche the root of psychology?  Are the trials and tribulations she faced (some call it a journey of self-discovery) the mythological essence of modern psychology? The irreverent psychologist wants to know.


Our first stop this evening is the Online Etymology Dictionary.

1640s, "animating spirit," from L. psyche, from Gk. psykhe "the soul, mind, spirit, breath, life, the invisible animating principle or entity which occupies and directs the physical body" (personified as Psykhe, the lover or Eros), akin to psykhein "to blow, cool," from PIE base *bhes- "to blow" (cf. Skt. bhas-). The word had extensive sense development in Platonic philosophy and Jewish-influenced theological writing of St. Paul. in English, psychological sense is from 1910.

All right then. The original meaning of psyche was soul, mind, spirit, breath, life... Yes I know. I'm repeating myself. In this sense we might understand psychology as the study of what animates humans -- what puts us into motion and what makes us act?

One more trip into history. Aristotle wrote a lot about the soul. In fact, he wrote a book called On the Soul. While in modern times the word soul has a religious or spiritual meaning, in ancient Greek times the meaning was very different. To Aristotle, the soul was something more akin to a form or essence--something that any living thing possessed. Further, the soul wasn't something that was distinct and different from the body--one didn't have a soul. Rather, the soul was an integral part of the creature

So is Psyche (the woman, not the concept) what animates humans? Not exactly. I don't think the ancient Greeks were thinking we were animated by love (or lust). The problem is that the myth wasn't of Aphrodite, Eros, and Psyche. The myth was a Roman one -- of Venus, Cupid, and Psyche. From what I can best gather (and mind you, I'm not a scholar of ancient Greek and Roman mythology!) the Greeks gave us the notion that Psyche was a force that animated or moved beings--an integral force that isn't separate from the being itself. I can't find any reference to Psyche being a woman, a goddess, or a lover of Eros. 

The Romans created the myth of Venus, her son Cupid, and his lover Psyche. Psyche became a beautiful woman -- an entity on her own -- and something much different than the story the Greeks told.

We might understand psychology as the study of what animates humans -- the study of what puts us into motion and what makes us act. I can buy that meaning of psychology. It's interesting to ponder how the Greek understanding of psyche and a Roman understanding of Psyche lead us to a slightly different understanding of what psychology is.

Are we animated and put into motion by love as the Roman story of the love affair between Cupid and Psyche suggests? Is love our soul--the breath of life? Certainty a significant portion of the psychoanalytic tradition have built their understanding of psychology on the Roman story. 

But what about the Greeks? Is their understanding of soul more at the root of psychology? Is the soul not an independently existing substance or drive--is it as Aristotle suggested the form of the body? Is what makes us human (beings with soul) a capacity to be human -- not being a thing that has that capacity?

...and does any of this matter, anyway? What do you think?

Pandora Was Robbed

I've always been a fan of Greek and Roman mythology--who am I kidding. I've always been a fan of any kind of mythology. Greek, Roman, and Egyptian mythologies provide such interesting windows of how the world was once understood. There are other mythologies that I'm interested in too--take psychology for example. While we cloak our field with the garments of the scientific method, there are times that I feel that psychology is yet another elaborate mythology that tries to explain our human condition.

I risk digressing here, so back to what I wanted to write about today: Pandora was robbed. That's right. Over the centuries we've chopped away at her story and lost some key parts of the story--and in doing that we've created a whole different mythology.

Pandora seems to most often be depicted as a Jezebel--a dangerous character who wittingly or unwittingly releases evil upon the world. Alternatively, when referring to her box, we talk about something that should be avoided. One wouldn't want to open Pandora's box. It's too difficult. it's too dangerous. It's not the right thing to do.

Did you know that Pandora's box wasn't really a box? It was a jar.

As the story goes, Zeus (you all know him, right?) ordered Hephaestus (the god of craftsmanship) to create a woman. Hephaestus did just that with water and earth. Other gods gave Pandora talents and gifts. Aphrodite gave her beauty, Hermes persuasion, Apollo music, Athena wisdom, etc.

Pandora thus was known as "all-gifted." 

Zeus, always being the one to argue and bicker with other gods, got ticked off when Prometheus (known for his forethought and intelligence) stole fire from heaven. To exact vengeance, her presented Prometheus' brother Epimetheus (known for hindsight, or afterthought) with Pandora. Along with Pandora, he sent a jar which under no circumstances was she to open. Being gifted with curiosity, Pandora of course was going to open the jar. As most of you who already know this story, all the evil contained in the jar escaped and spread around the world. Pandora tried to close the jar but everything had escaped.

Everything escaped but one last thing--hope. That part of the story seems to be consistently lost.

From all accounts, Pandora was was similar to the Christian archetype of Eve. Prior to Pandora, the world was a nice place. Eve got curious about the apple and everyone got expelled from Eden. Pandora gets curious about what's in the jar and Earth becomes sullied by evil. 

Somewhere around the seventh century B.C., the story of Pandora first appears in print. Hesiod writes

From her is the race of women and female kind;
of her is the deadly race and tribe of women who
live amongst mortal men to their great trouble,
no helpmates in hateful poverty, but only in wealth.

He ends the story with this:

Only hope was left within her unbreakable house,
she remained under the lip of the jar, and did not
fly away. Before [she could], Pandora replaced the
lid of the jar. This was the will of aegis-bearing
Zeus the Cloudgatherer.

A hundred years later or so another poet gives an altered view of Pandora and suggests she didn't open the jar at all--a foolish man did. Theognis writes:

Hope is the only good god remaining among mankind;
the others have left and gone to Olympus.
Trust, a mighty god has gone. Restraint has gone from men,
and the Graces, my friend, have abandoned the Earth.
Men's judicial oaths are no longer to be trusted, nor does anyone
revere the immortal gods; the race of pious men has perished and
men no longer recognize the rules of conduct or acts of piety.

Some scholars point out that the reading of this text suggests that Pandora's jar was actually filled with blessings--not evil.

What we don't know is what the ancient Greeks really thought about Pandora. Did Hesiod reinterpret her story? Was Theognis more accurate to the original telling of the tale? 

The answer to this is likely lost forever in translation. Depending on how one translates the ancient language Pandora's jar can be seen as either a prison or a pantry. The jar-as-prison suggests that it contained evil and that evil was intended to be kept away from humankind. Interesting then that hope was kept in prison. In this reading, hope is something forever kept from humankind and we are forever tortured by the evils of the world. The jar-as-pantry suggests that Pandora's jar contained gifts. Precious gifts that were perhaps lost when a foolish man (or Pandora herself) opened up the pantry and squandered those gifts. Except of course for the gift of hope.

What does it all mean? In the end, I think each of us need to make this decision on our own.

Zeus did not want man to throw his life away, no matter how much the other evils might torment him, but rather to go on letting himself be tormented anew. To that end, he gives man hope. In truth, it is the most evil of evils because it prolongs man's torment - Friedrich Nietzsche

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
--Emily Dickinson

We are all in the gutter but some of us are looking to the stars - Oscar Wilde

Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy - Eskimo Proverb

Hope never abandons you: you abandon it - George Weinberg

Hope is faith holding out its hand in the dark - George Iles