The Pythagoreans considered numbers to be co-existent qualitative dimensions of reality, rather than distinct sequential units of quantitative measurement that we understand them to be today. In my book, Astrology and the Archetypal Power of Numbers: A Contemporary Reformulation of Pythagorean Number Theory, I consider the spiritual psychology of each of these dimensions – which I call the Number Realms. In the following blog series, taken from Chapter Two of my book, I explore the Realm of Two.
This is Part 3 of an 11-Part Series
The entire Introduction can be read
as a prelude to this series here.
Previous posts in this series include:
Consciousness as a Play of Opposites
Two As an Echo of the Abyss
Our first clue to the sense of ambivalence within Pythagorean tradition (toward the number Two) comes from a passage in The Theology of Arithmetic (Robin Waterfield, Tr. The Theology of Arithmetic. Grand Rapids, MI: Phanes Press, 1988, p. 41):
. . . the Dyad is all but contrasted to the nature of God in the sense that it is considered to be the cause of things changing and altering, while God is the cause of sameness and unchanging stability.
This contrast between stability and change is worth noting, given the context of our recent movement from the Realm of Zero into the Realm of One. Here we are. We have just managed to escape the Abyss, as our gods and goddesses of choice bring order to chaos. And now we are about to enter a Realm where forces exist that threaten to reintroduce disorder. Such forces must be eyed with some suspicion. Once we have projected a Creator god and pledged our allegiance to it as our ticket out of the Abyss, anything Other – in contrast to the One – can understandably be perceived as a counterforce in opposition to our god.
Yet, as the Pythagoreans also recognized, the Creation is not possible without a progression from One to Two. There can be no multiplicity of separate forms – no trees, rocks, birds, humans, rain clouds, or stars – without a dissipation of unity into diversity. “Hence the first conjunction of monad and dyad results in the first finite plurality, the element of things, which would be a triangle of quantities and numbers, both corporeal and incorporeal” (Waterfield 41). Two is a necessary first step from One to all the other numbers, along a path on which the evolution of consciousness and creation proceed. For this reason, the Pythagoreans also described Two with more affirmative epithets such as “daring,” “movement,” “generation,” “change,” and “Rhea,” the mother of the gods in Greek mythology (Waterfield 41, 46).
The first source of Pythagorean ambivalence toward the Two is that it was both a necessary adjunct to the One and a deviation from it. Since the ultimate goal of human existence was considered by the Pythagoreans to be reunion with the One, this first necessary step would appear to be in the wrong direction, posing a huge dilemma for the true disciple of the way. This dilemma was solved by the adoption of a strict moral code involving dietary restrictions, periods of fasting and silence, abstinence from sex, minimal possessions, etc, – the idea being that such a way of life would bring one through the Realm of Two with a certain spiritual purity born of adherence to divine virtues. This sensibility was passed on to Plato, who – in elaboration of Pythagorean teachings – began to construe the body as a prison and a corruption of Spirit, and developed his moral code accordingly. In turn, Plato’s ideas compounded a moralistic tone of inequality already present in the monotheistic religions – Judaism, Christianty, and Islam – that were influenced by him.
These religions eventually took the Pythagorean ambivalence toward the Dyad to a feverish pitch, projecting it as the counterbalancing force of Satan, who opposed God in an endless battle for human souls. Similar rabid opposition between good and evil became the rallying cry not just for religions influenced by Plato, but also for Zoroastrianism in ancient Persia (contemporary Iran), the Jain tradition of India, and the Omoto cult in 20th century Japan (Oxtoby Eastern 416-418). This battle has subsequently played itself out on many stages, including the Spanish Inquisition of the 15th and 16th centuries, which tortured and killed countless Jews who had supposedly committed heresies against a Christian god; the systematic genocide in the 17th and 18th centuries of indigenous peoples throughout North and South America, who had the audacity to worship gods other than Jesus Christ; and the terrorist war of holy jihad waged today against the Christian West and reciprocated by them[i]. Many examples of One at war with Two have marred the history of the human race.
[i] This statement is not meant to minimize the role that other factors – such as control of oil – plays in Middle Eastern tensions. Whether religious differences are merely the justification for a more complex set of variables contributing to war, or the central focus of the war, they fuel a strong sense of separation and dichotomy in the Realm of Two, which ultimately promotes a path of inequality through it.
If you find the ideas presented in this blog series intriquing and want to read the whole story, you can buy Astrology and the Archetypal Power of Numbers, Part One here.
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