2.33
There’s a difficult point here and it’s that our way of being fits the world just so — it fits it as well as any other way does (§1.34–1.35, §1.37). If this is so, how can I argue for a transformation? Why wouldn’t we stay with our current ways of being?
Even when calcified ways of being fit the world, they call for a renewed response. (This ‘fit’ may be more like wearing baggy clothes.) Rather, what calls for a renewed response are things themselves. The slack (§1.37) can be more or less, ranging from a close fit to aspects that don’t fit at all.
The call for transformation emerges within our world at a particular juncture: a moment of decision that makes possible particular responses — some of which, like Copernicus’s epicycles,[1] seek to patch and maintain current structures; others call for a deeper response.
How we respond is partly based on how our selves are gathered as relational nexuses (§2.20). Our tolerance in being able to stomach calcification, change, or the amount of slack relates to what Nietzsche calls will-to-power. Though our will never starts with us (in an absolute sense), it does pass through us. But, if we’re called to transformation, we’re ready on some level.
There is no perfect fit. Ways of being have more to learn and room to improve their responsivities. The sense of things is constantly tested and prodded by things themselves. Ways of being have inconsistencies and aporias (e.g., the mind-body problem). There’ll always be aporias because the world is open in countless ways. It’s a question of how we respond to this.
[1] Zwicky, The Experience of Meaning, p. 67.