The Latin word ordo* describes a “row, line, or series,” the foundation on which order builds. A simple row of stones begins a wall; a line of chairs becomes a theater; a series of iron loops braid into a chain.
From that evolves ordior*, meaning “to begin to weave,” because the way a weaver starts is by stringing warp threads on a loom, setting up a row of parallel lines.
A second, generalized definition of ordior is “to begin, commence, set about, undertake.” Every beginning is an initiation into the creation of order and the mystery of making.
Before any beginning is the intelligible sphere: infinite, immobile, indifferent, the center of that sphere everywhere and the circumference nowhere.
The beginning of the beginning is the point: uncountable multitudes of them suspended within the sphere, raw and random chaos, each point being a center of that infinite sphere.
The beginning of form is the line: a queue of uncountable points spun into thread.
The beginning of order is the array: parallel lines, warp threads strung on a loom.
The beginning of the material world is the plane: warp and woof woven into fabric.
The beginning of life is time: the fabric cut and sewn and altered and worn and worn out.