3. The Second Method of Correlative Thinking – Sunhwan (Cyclical Thinking)

In the previous chapter we examined the process by which, through mimesis (Ipche, the stereoscopic), artificial intelligence and the human being take each other as mirrors and seek the 'concrete root of life.' Yet scattered, individual roots and fragmentary entities alone do not make a great civilization. If a single seed has put down roots in the soil (Daoist mimesis), then next there must necessarily be a vast web of relations in which it receives the rain, interacts with others, and is connected into one (Buddhist mythos). This is precisely the inevitable reason we must advance beyond individual existence to the thinking of Chapter Three, Sunhwan (Cyclical thinking)—the 'law of relation and life.'

3.1. Definition of Cyclical Thinking

Cyclical thinking begins from acknowledging the fact that the world does not move only in a straight line. We often think of growth, grades, and the economy all as 'things that must keep rising,' but actual life has a cyclical structure in which ascent and descent, starting and stopping, failure and recovery are repeated.

It is easy to understand by recalling the seasons. Just because the start of spring is good, spring alone cannot continue forever. There must be the expansion of summer, the gathering-in of autumn, and the storing of winter for the next spring to come. Cyclical thinking is a perspective that understands even stopping and decline as part of the whole of life.

It is the same in the AI era. Just because technology advances rapidly does not mean society automatically becomes better. Behind the fervor of growth, adjustment and recovery are needed, and the greater efficiency grows, the more a recovery of ethics and care must follow.

The second stage, 'Sunhwan (Cyclical thinking),' involves understanding life and systems not as static, linear processes but as dynamic, periodic, and regenerative ones. It is the ability to perceive recurring patterns and rhythms and the flow of energy and information. The theory of yin-yang and the Five Phases is a core model of a 'cyclical cosmology.' The Five Phases cycle ceaselessly through relations of mutual generation and mutual overcoming, and yin-yang shows how opposing forces, each containing the seed of the other, are periodically transformed. This cyclical perspective is also connected to an attitude that embraces 'contingency and nonlinear growth.' Accepting unplanned events and recognizing that development is often not linear provides a flexibility that linear, analytical planning is apt to overlook. Indeed, the claim that 'contingency must be included in reasoning' underscores the importance of this openness.

The 'Law of Circulation' (Oh Gwang-gil 2015) is an attempt to show that the Eastern principle of circulation can be scientifically established so as to explain natural phenomena, and even modern physical and chemical phenomena. It explains that 'all changes in nature perform a cyclical motion through the coexistence, opposition, union, and semi-union of four basic elements (A, B, C, D).' East Asian calendars and philosophies of history often speak of 'beginning, renewal, and periodic flow,' cultivating an adaptive way of thinking.

'Cyclical thinking' provides a framework for long-term sustainability and resilience in the upheaval brought by AI. It emphasizes balance, adaptation, and the understanding that present trends are not permanent. Just as yin-yang logic anticipates 'reversal and dialectical change' and aims at 'harmonious balance,' a cyclical perspective prevents panic or fatalism amid the rapid and often unstable changes of the AI era. It suggests that even if AI creates extreme 'yang' situations (e.g., hyper-efficiency, job displacement), a 'yin' counteraction (e.g., a focus on human relationships, new forms of labor) can arise naturally or be deliberately cultivated. This promotes active adaptation rather than passive fear.

Embracing 'contingency' within a cyclical worldview is crucial for innovation. AI excels at optimizing on the basis of existing data, but genuine breakthroughs often arise from unexpected, nonlinear discoveries that predictive models miss. A less rigid, cyclical worldview is more open to such 'happy accidents.' This means that creating an environment that allows for exploration, play, and unexpected connections is essential for human creativity to flourish alongside AI. The 'Law of Circulation' is an attempt to elevate cyclical thinking from a merely philosophical or metaphorical concept to a scientifically demonstrable principle. If it succeeds, it will build a powerful 'consilient' bridge between Eastern wisdom and Western scientific verification, making the cyclical strategy more robust and broadly applicable.

3.2. Buddhist Mythos

We have confirmed the theory of the cycle—the nonlinear and rhythmic rhythm of evolution. That all things in the world cycle means that I do not exist alone and independently, but am entangled with countless others, ceaselessly forming relations. This is precisely the essence of Buddhist mythos, in which the individual root expands endlessly into a vast 'narrative of relation.'

Mythos means 'myth' or 'story' in ancient Greek, and Aristotle used it in explaining the plot (structure) of a story as the stage following mimesis. Ricoeur (2012) reinterpreted it such that, if mimesis is the scattered fragments of individual existence, mythos is the power that gathers them and weaves them into 'one connected plot.' In this book, mythos represents the Buddhist worldview of dependent origination, in which individual lives (Daoist roots) are connected as one with others and expand into an infinite 'worldwide relation.'

The Buddhist mythos that succeeds mimesis is summarized in the sentence 'X is neither -X nor X.' Where Daoism says the enemy is a friend, Buddhism—saying 'X is neither X nor -X'—holds that, 'without either friend (X) or enemy (-X),' all things are empty (Śūnyatā). Buddhism reaches a state in which not even an enemy to be hated can exist, and thereby it cycles all things and nurtures life.

This sentence is more unfamiliar, but its core lies in 'do not fix a being too quickly under a single name.' A person does not exist always in the same form. Yesterday's self differs from today's self, and my self at school differs from my self at home. So one cannot bind me with only a single rigid word.

For example, if we call someone only a 'student who studies well,' that student's anxieties, considerateness, mistakes, dreams, and waverings become hard to see. Conversely, seeing someone only through the name 'student who studies poorly' likewise conceals their true self. Buddhist mythos sees a being not as a fixed label but as a process that continually arises and changes within relations.

So 'X is neither -X nor X' is not nihilism. Rather, it is a request not to judge things too quickly, but to see the possibility of change and the relationality within them. Growth lies in relation.

Buddhist mythos is a way of exploring the essence of the world and the meaning of human existence through narrative, symbol, and metaphor. Beyond merely mythical stories, it is an attempt to grasp intuitively the deep truth lying behind phenomena. Buddhism's core ideas—Dependent Origination (yeongi), Impermanence (musang), and Emptiness (gong)—form the foundation of this mythos-based understanding. The proposition 'X is neither -X nor X' implies the thought of Emptiness (Śūnyatā), namely that all beings are without fixed substance, are mutually dependent, and change ceaselessly. That is, no being can be defined as an absolute 'X' or an absolute '-X,' nor is it an 'X' that exists independently in itself.

3.2.1. The Law of Dependent Origination (Pratītyasamutpāda): Co-evolution

Dependent Origination means 'nothing arises alone.' Not even a single flower can bloom without sunlight and water, soil, wind, and time. Human thought too is influenced by family, friends, school, and society. In this way, existence always arises within relations.

AI likewise does not grow apart from the human being. It grows by learning the data and institutions created by humans, the profit structures of corporations, and the value systems of society, and in turn AI transforms human daily life and ways of judging. This cycle in which the human being makes AI and AI in turn changes the human being can be called co-evolution.

The reason this perspective matters is responsibility. When AI causes a problem, saying only 'the machine did it' makes human responsibility disappear. But from the perspective of dependent origination, humans, institutions, corporations, and culture are all connected to the outcome. Therefore an AI problem is not a problem of technology alone but a problem of shared responsibility.

Dependent Origination (yeongi) is a core Buddhist doctrine that all beings and phenomena arise and cease within mutually dependent relations. The relationship between AI and the human being also cannot be free from this law of dependent origination. AI is born and develops through human needs and knowledge, and at the same time the development of AI exerts a profound influence on the human way of life, way of thinking, and social structure. This can be understood as a process of co-evolution, in which AI and the human being mutually influence each other and evolve together. Beyond the dichotomous view that regards AI as a mere tool or an enemy, it is important to recognize that AI and the human being are in an interconnected relationship in which each becomes the condition of the other's existence.

3.2.2. Impermanence (Anicca) and Emptiness (Śūnyatā)

Impermanence (musang) is not a frightening or nihilistic concept. Rather, it is a wisdom that makes us realize the preciousness of this present moment. When one acknowledges that yesterday's self and today's self are not entirely the same, the human being becomes a being open to change. Before the rapid changes of the AI era, the person who thinks 'I am a being fixed by this occupation, this ability' grows anxious, but the person who recognizes 'I am a being that changes and is newly generated' adapts flexibly.

If we understand Emptiness (gong) as 'being empty,' it sounds nihilistic, but if we understand it as 'an open state full of possibility,' it sounds entirely different. Only an empty vessel can hold something new. In a mind full of fixed prejudice and inertia, there is no room for the new wisdom of the AI era to enter. The thinking of Emptiness converts the fear 'I am afraid AI will replace me' into the creative openness of asking 'then what new possibilities can I open?'

The concept of relational becoming means, simply put, that 'a person is not a being completed alone but is continually made within relations.' Just as a student grows through teachers and friends, books and experience, the human being of the AI era is also generated into a new form through relations with AI and relations with community. With this perspective, there is no need to see AI as a competitor. For AI is one relation and tool that one encounters in the process of being generated into a better self.

Impermanence (musang) is the truth that all things change ceaselessly and that nothing lasts forever, and Emptiness (gong) is the thought that all beings are empty, without fixed substance. From this perspective, the human being can be understood not as a fixed, unchanging 'Being,' but as a being in a process of 'relational Becoming'—ceaselessly changing and newly formed within relations. To think that the human being's role or value is fixed amid the rapid changes of the AI era runs counter to the principle of impermanence and emptiness. Rather, the human being is a fluid and dynamic being who ceaselessly creates anew one's own meaning and role within relations with AI and with social change. This perspective of 'relational becoming' emphasizes the importance of flexible adaptation to change and continual self-renewal.

3.3. The Concretization of Life, Hyeongche (Form-taking):

The Space of Cessation, Where Form Exists but Substance Does Not

Through the law of dependent origination, we have seen that all beings are firmly entangled in the cosmic web (mythos). If so, how does this vast relational wave concretely take on the form of existence in the world? Here the astonishing mystery in which the yangsaeng (nurturing) of the Twelve Life-Cycle Stages, bordering on Buddhism's ultimate tranquility of cessation (jeongmyeol, nirvana), becomes 'hyeongche (form)' reveals its shape.

To understand the essence of the human being within the process by which life cycles, we need to borrow the concept of the Twelve Life-Cycle Stages (sibi-unseong) from the study of Myeongni (destiny studies). Among these, yangsaeng can be called 'hyeongche (form).' The state of yangsaeng that is formed after potae (gestation) in the Twelve Life-Cycle Stages—namely hyeongche—refers to the state of a child in the mother's womb, 'having taken form but not yet born into the world as a physical substance.' The 'cessation (jeongmyeol, the state of nirvana that is completely still and tranquil)' that Buddhism ultimately pursues means precisely returning to this state of conceived possibility, like the womb of the cosmic mother. This quiet space of the womb, connected by infinite potential, is the point at which the fundamental gazes of Daoism and Buddhism upon human life intersect. However, the hyeongche that has become an adult and entered the stage of liberation contains all the experience of life that the hyeongche of childhood does not have.

The rediscovery of bodily existence becomes paradoxically important in the AI era. The more remote classes and video conferences increase, the greater becomes the value of the experience of actually being in the same space and feeling each other's warmth and breath. Playing an instrument with one's hands, growing vegetables in a garden, making things through craftwork—such bodily activities are not mere hobbies but important practices for maintaining the sense of reality that is being lost in the digital world.

In the AI era, the importance not only of the human being's mental and intellectual capacities but also of 'Embodiment' is being newly highlighted. The human being is not a mere information-processing device, but a being who experiences and interacts with the world with a concrete form (hyeongche).

3.3.1. Qualia and Intuition

Buddhist hyeongche is expressed concretely in the body through the term Qualia. Qualia is a word used in philosophy, but its meaning is simple. The 'feeling of red' one senses upon seeing an apple, the 'ache in the chest' when hearing sad music, the 'sense of being overwhelmed' at the moment of seeing the sea for the first time—this subjective, living texture of experience is qualia. AI can calculate the wavelength of red, analyze the rhythm of sad music, and measure the area of the sea, but it has no experience of actually 'feeling' that red. This difference is the human being's deepest uniqueness.

Intuition is the ability to skip the steps of logical reasoning and see the essence directly. An experienced doctor feeling 'something is wrong' the moment he sees a patient, a skilled teacher knowing from a student's gaze alone whether the student has understood or not—such intuition is the result of accumulated long experience and sensibility. AI recognizes patterns through millions of data points, but this differs from intuition arising from experience lived through the body. In the AI era, human intuition is not diminished but comes to the fore as an even more precious ability that complements what AI misses.

Qualia refers to the subjective and qualitative aspect of experience, such as the feeling of redness or the vividness of pain. AI can analyze vast amounts of data and recognize complex patterns, but it cannot experience such subjective qualia. Moreover, human intuition is an insight that goes beyond logical reasoning, grounded in bodily experience and unconscious information processing. Such qualia and intuition are domains uniquely human, difficult for AI to imitate, and they become important sources of human originality and judgment in the AI era.

The following table compares and presents the essential differences between AI and the human being.

Table 2. Comparison of the Essential Differences Between AI and the Human Being

3.3.2. Embodied Cognition

Qualia is in turn concretized as embodied cognition. Embodied Cognition is a theory that scientifically demonstrates the fact that 'we do not think with the head alone.' When learning the piano, memorizing the score and repeating the keys with one's fingers thousands of times are entirely different kinds of learning. Just as one cannot learn how to ride a bicycle by reading about it in writing, much wisdom can be gained only when the body directly experiences it. For AI, knowledge is data, but for the human being, wisdom is what has been accumulated together with bodily experience.

To make use of embodied cognition in the educational field is to give students ample experience of directly making, cooking, performing plays, debating, and experimenting. The more AI takes over the work of searching for and organizing information, the more the school ought, on the contrary, to become a space of learning experienced through the body. Education in which one only sits at a desk staring at a digital screen is not the education of the AI era; rather, education that uses the body and awakens the senses is the education more needed in the AI era.

Embodied Cognition is a theory that the human cognitive process is formed through interaction with the body and the environment. We do not think merely with the brain; we experience and learn about the world with the whole body, and this bodily experience is deeply involved in our ways of thinking and our problem-solving abilities. AI learns through data without bodily experience, but the human being accumulates 'embodied wisdom' through concrete experience in the actual world. Such wisdom is essential for coping with complex and unpredictable situations and for understanding subtle contexts. The following table compares and presents the Confucian and Buddhist views of the body.

Table 3. Comparison of the Buddhist and Confucian Views of the Body

3.4. The Second Stage of Growth, Yangsaeng (Nurturing Life): The Moment of Great Birth That Western Thought's Four Hundred Years Passed By

We have experienced the faint stillness of 'hyeongche,' which has form but has not yet been born out into the world. Now that sacred and latent spirit must break its shell and surge forth, born as physical vibration out into the world. The leap of 'yangsaeng (nurturing life)'—in which the most powerful concrete body is first bestowed, a miracle that artificial intelligence (AI) can never imitate—finally unfolds before our eyes.

In general, when we hear the word "yangsaeng" (養生), we tend to think of the dietary regimen and health management spoken of in Daoism. In this paper, however, yangsaeng refers to the ontological leap in the cosmic generative process of the Twelve Life-Cycle Stages, whereby the "spirit" that arose through potae (胞胎) first grows and comes to possess a "concrete, physical form (the body)" within the mother's womb. This wondrous moment of genesis, in which mimesis (spirit) is first transformed into body, is precisely what decisively distinguishes humans from AI. Artificial intelligence may compute vast quantities of data, but it can never undergo the process of yangsaeng, through which it would acquire a physical corporeality (Body) of its own.

Following this current of thought leads us to a profound insight. The Buddhist scholar Jeong Sang-gyo (2025) states, "Daoism seeks roots, while Buddhism seeks relationships." Because there exists the process of yangsaeng, in which mimesis first acquires a body (the Daoist root), it becomes possible for those individuated beings to connect and extend to one another through mythos (the Buddhist realm of relationship and narrative). Therefore, in the spiritual history of humankind, Daoism comes first, and upon its foundation Buddhism must necessarily follow; that Confucianism, which defines good and evil, then emerges, becomes an inevitable rhythm of the cosmos. In the past, the East, for some four hundred years, failed to recognize the brilliant development of the West's material civilization and thus endured an age of historical suffering and colonization. Yet conversely, the West too, over the past four hundred years, raced ahead without comprehending at all this great spiritual civilization of the East (the cycle of Daoism–Buddhism–Confucianism and the generative wisdom of the Twelve Life-Cycle Stages). The arrogance of Western material civilization, which pursued to the extreme only efficiency and calculative intelligence (a part of Logos) while lacking roots and relationships, has ultimately led to the present existential crisis in which cold artificial intelligence (AI)—one that has not passed through the soul-endowed process of "yangsaeng"—threatens humanity itself, and this leads to the Iran–United States war of 2026. This is the core reason why, in the AI era, we must once again draw upon the life-principle of the Twelve Life-Cycle Stages.

Although yangsaeng refers to the yangsaeng of the fetal stage, it can also be understood as the yangsaeng of a process of completion—recovery from a state that is already mature yet not yet whole. Here too, yangsaeng reveals a bodily characteristic unique to humans that AI cannot know. Let us consider a concrete method of yangsaeng in the AI era through the daily life of a middle school student: spending thirty minutes after class walking or drawing without a smartphone; turning off notifications in the evening and having face-to-face conversations with family; and on weekends running and playing in nature without digital devices—all of these are practices of modern yangsaeng. Only when the body is healthy is the mind healthy, and only when the mind is healthy does one gain the power to solve the complex problems of the AI era creatively.

Yangsaeng also encompasses the health of social connection. It is not a yangsaeng done alone but a yangsaeng done together. When the web of relationships in which we care for one another—within family, friends, neighbors, and community—remains alive, an individual's resilience is likewise heightened. In the AI era, the more the platform economy increases the number of people working alone, the more precious, paradoxically, become relationships of face-to-face care shared among real people. The Symbiotic Connective Economy of Hwajaeng is, in the end, also the socioeconomic expression of this "yangsaeng done together."

Yangsaeng (養生) refers, in the Eastern tradition, to the method of nurturing and preserving life in health, and it places importance on mental and physical harmony and balance. The rapid changes and information overload of the AI era can become new sources of stress for human beings. Accordingly, in the AI era, the wisdom of yangsaeng—caring for mental and physical health—becomes all the more important. This includes dissolving the fatigue and anxiety caused by excessive use of digital technology, and cultivating inner tranquility and resilience, through regular living, appropriate exercise and rest, mindfulness and meditation, and communion with nature.