"Enantiodromia" and Human Experience
I came across a term in a psychology book the other night which made my jaw fall open with respect to all this. Was pretty much innocently reading along and there it was, in black and white: “enantiodromia.” What?? WTF is this? I’ve been reading psychology books for nearly half a century, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen any reference to this. The author – Jung – was referring to a sequence of polar opposites appearing in experience, especially as it pertains to luck.
Many times I had wondered about the combination of the preternatural sun run I had before this supernatural cooler streak, about how that can even be a thing. So stumbling across this word in Jung was rather astounding. I’ve long said that corrections in results tend to be as severe as the bubble preceding it, and though this is along the same lines, it is something deeper. Enantiodromia: the principle that everything makes way for its opposite, as with good and bad luck. “Wow” is a popular saying in poker, but I don’t think I’ve ever had a wow like this … even at 986-to-1 beats and suckouts which I’ve been involved with a few times.
Because immediately preceding this impossible 850 session, 9-year long death run, I was probably one of the hottest players anywhere. In 2015 I had a mini-streak early on in which I won 8 in a row, then a loss, then won 17 of the next 18, then choppy for 4 sessions (2-2), then won 31 in a row. 93-8 for that year, 2015. As that 31-session streak was culminating, and in its aftermath, out of curiosity I began asking players about their longest winning streaks. It wasn’t a brag though they tended to take it that way, it was real curiosity that such a streak had visited me. I heard some surprisingly low numbers about their longest streaks, then I eventually heard some big ones … the biggest one being 24.
I asked a mathematician about the odds of winning 31 sessions in a row over a 4000 session sample with an established 65% win rate. The streak should have been about a 28-3 heater, but at the end of the three near sure losses miracles rained. I knew it was all just a super sun run, but in retrospect I’m not sure I realized just how much of one it was, that is, just how much over expectation I was running, just how much the flops and run outs were going my way. I had been running very good for way too long in this sense, and losses, for years now except for in a handful of months over nearly 30 years, were immediately recovered, rarely losing more than once in a row, and very rarely more than twice in a row. Until.
On January 1st, 2016 (I remember the date because that is bowl day and I’m a much higher sports bettor than poker player, and I never miss bowl day), I kind of had to play against my wishes in a friend’s new home game to support him. It was hold’em (which I don’t like, I play PLO mostly) and I took a 1-outer beat for my stack on a K-9-3 flop, trip kings against trip 3s. Got riverized, pulverized. I left immediately in a very cross mood that I was even there and that I had taken the beat. Little did I know what was coming.
There is or was a thread on 2+2 titled something like, “Why Would Anyone Even Take Up Poker As of 2016?” The game getting too tough and too corrupt, I guess was the idea. Yeah, little did I know how perfectly timed this January 1, 2016 beat was in relation to that thread, and that I would become like the poster child for that thread title.
Enter the almost every single flop utterly misses my hand for 100K hands as if they rooted through the deck to find the 3 most unrelated cards possible over and over and over (“no pair, no draw, no back door draw” became my refrain), maddening to watch it continue over years and hundreds of sessions, and the 1% or so of flops where I did connect zeroed out and/or ran out to murderous beats, including slews of 1-outers. It happened. Is still happening.
Now here is the huge kicker to the story that moves the whole thing into metaphysics. This jackpot Jungian term appeared in a chapter called “The Psychology of the Trickster.” Having long scoffed at the idea of the Trickster, of course without fully understanding it (it’s not an entity but a pattern), during this very phenomenon of the streaks I had researched and incorporated the Trickster, archetype of prescient chaos, into my worldview. Via the incorporation of opposing patterns in the psyche, like poles of a battery, the human drama and reality itself unfolds. In the service of individuation, in the service of the evolution of consciousness, this is a thing.
The Trickster archetype is all about throwing a monkey wrench into things in the service of individuation and evolution. And that is exactly what this experience was … away from “lost in the shuffle” and toward self-knowledge. Poker, after all, has a great escape velocity within the psyche. Only the total and bizarre blocking of expected occurrences could have done the trick. And, voila, The Trickster brought it home in the form of enantiodromia, something that no one but Jung, Heraclitus, and Plato had ever heard of. I’m used to seeing perfect terms land from some of the world’s greatest psychologists and metaphysicians, but this one takes the cake for me.