Head Full of Ghosts

by

If you’ve done any form of meditation or therapy you know about those complexes in your mind. The fears, the obsessions, the habits that take over so much of our life, probably more than we want to admit.

It’s like having a head full of ghosts.

These aren’t the cool ghosts either. There’s no dramatic revelations of the past or lineage. They aren’t some vital spirits directing us to a better life after three disparate visions. None of these ghosts is delivering useful advice. Not a single one resembles Patrick Swayze.

Honestly, these ghosts in our head, these habits and neuroses, are boring and pathetic.

They’re mechanical and repetitive. They run on tracks burrowed into our mind, clockwork-clicking along whatever path set out by our past experiences. They are powerful, they are annoying, but they’re also not that interesting or unique. The reruns of the soul.

They’re often quite pathetic. A bad experience here, a grudge there, something we didn’t acknowledge in the past. Even the horrible ones are sad, the results of our bad choices or the cruelty of others. There’s something invalid about them, and we fear, about ourselves.

They’re damaging. They hurt us, obsess us, misdirect us, but not in any cool way. They’re often stupidly self-destructive – of ourselves and even themselves. They negate themselves yet always resurrect.

But worse of all these Ghosts, these complexes and obsessions of the past are so empty.

There’s nothing to them. No acknowledgement of reality, even when reality triggers them. They don’t grow. They aren’t relevant even if perhaps they once had reason to exist. When we acknowledge them, their shallowness is stunning. Here we are, people, and we have to share our head with these phantoms.

It’s humiliating. These mechanical, harmful, phantasms drive so much of our life and don’t deserve to. I once read someone discussing the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism, and decided to translate what is usually interpreted as craving as humiliation, and I get that.

I find looking at this emptiness, this voidness of our complexes helps me deal with them. When you see their shallowness and pointlessness, you can overcome them. Not necessarily by great exertion or cultivation (though it may help) but by just seeing through them and deciding to move on.

They seem to shrink when you do that. Probably because your attention and ignorance was the only thing keeping them going.

–Xenofact

Actually, I Get Ancestor Worship

by

In my readings on religion and spirituality, in my own spiritual journeys, I keep coming across practices of Ancestor Worship. As time goes on, I honestly see the value of it in general. I’m not even talking any possible supernatural benefits.

What kicked this off was some post I read online about a person respecting a well in a place they grew up in. Someone had ensured the community with that well and led them to discuss the purpose and value of Ancestor Worship.. So I figured I’d collect and share my thoughts so far on Ancestor Worship for discussion and of course to try to put them into words.

First, Ancestor Worship provides awareness of history. Understanding where you came from and why is important, and like any kind of history it makes you stop and think. It also means you stop and think about what you’re doing for the future. Are you going to be the Ancestor remembered or the one forgotten?

Secondly, Ancestor Worship has the benefit of essentially ritualizing history. One connects with their past, understands where they came from and so on – all bound in the power of ritual. This has a way of energizing our connections and bringing and sustaining their meaning.


Third, Ancestor Worship encourage what I’ve called an “ecosystem” approach to life, which I’ve written of a number of times. To look to the past and the future, to be aware of history and connection, to bring it to life in ritual is to understand the connectedness of the world. Like other practice I’ve discussed (contemplation of correspondences, worship of gods, etc.) it keeps life organic.

Fourth, Ancestor Worship encourages (hopefully) respect for what one has. To understand why you have where you live, the people who worked on your community, etc. is powerful. It’s a reminder of how we got where we are. Your possession isn’t yours, it’s history – and eventually someone else’s.

Now having enumerated my thoughts on the benefits, a few thoughts in turn on healthy ways to engage in said Ancestor worship.

  1. “Ancestors” aren’t blood relatives. Ancestors are people who helped us be who we are now and who we respect. Your grandparents may have been awful so forget them – but maybe you honor the founder of your profession.
  2. “Ancestors” aren’t perfect, and I view “Ancestor Worship” as a way to build on their good and make up for the bad. If they’re flawed people worthy of respect, then part of Ancestor Worship is doing good with what they left us – while not carrying on their flaws.
  3. Ancestors can be respected a number of ways, but it should be ritualized. It may be as simple as giving thank, or donations, or celebrating their birthday. Make it organized and also meaningful.
  4. Ancestor Worship doesn’t have to involve any supernatural elements. That’s optional.

Granted these are not thoughts for an organized practice or anything. I myself don’t do much more at the time than occasionally express respect for certain people responsible for the books I read, or acknowledge the lineage of where I work. But maybe organizing them will give me direction – and of course provide my readers and friends with something to read and discuss.

–Xenofact

Seeking Immortality In Racism

by

There’s a certain kind of man out there we’ve all seen who has a very predictable downward spiral personally and ethically.

He is aging. Perhaps swiftly, more swiftly than usual thanks to lifestyle choices and, ironically, attempts to extend his lifespan.

He starts to make very racist statements. This doesn’t mean he’s just become racist – indeed it is more likely revealing his beliefs and pathologies, and they’re often getting worse. He’s very concerned about other races and of course his. Almost certainly this person is what we’d call White – very White.

He becomes obsessed with genetics and fitness and pseudo-Darwinism. Again, this is perhaps more a revelation than an evolution. But suddenly he’s quite concerned, dare I say radically so.

He is obsessed with reproduction. His race (again, usuallyWhite) must reproduce, though what that race is doesn’t seem to make sense. Perhaps he invokes some kind of generic Whiteness, breathtakingly meaningless in its attempt to lump together people of many backgrounds. He might invoke “European” origins in some unitary manner, as if Europe hasn’t had a history of its people murdering each other in wars for ages.

Inevitably, his obsession with reproduction becomes creepy (or is revealed to be such). He tries to have children with many women. He discusses the fertility of underaged girls in obsessive detail. Perhaps he divorces his wife to marry someone that could be his daughter – or grandaughter. One gets the feeling that this is revelation of and justification of behaviors warranting not just consideration but investigation.

So let me propose that such a man – such men as we are all too used to – are seeking immortality in their racism. Racist they almost certainly are, but there is even more there in the pathology.

They are aging, aging before our eyes and theirs. They have lived life, perhaps being quite successful, but no one can bribe time, only live inside it. They may also be failures, looking back with regret, wanting something to look forward to. Rich or poor, famous or obscure, the flames of history slowly consume them.

So they seek something to give them a sense of immortality, of pemanance in an ever-changing world, and settle on something easily seized on by the pathological – racism. They invest in the survival of their so-called race, whatever bundle of bigotries and demographics they’ve latched on to. They become obsessed with reproduction, both theirs and others, hoping for the immortality in future generations of a specific race.

Of course, their own personal problems become our problems as we’re all to well aware of what fearful bigots can do. Perhaps we didn’t realize how bad they were, but as they got older they got worse, rotting from the inside. Now, many of them at their peak – in age if not wealth – seek to conquer time and they can’t, and it’s our problem.

When I see some White man, aging, obsessed with reproduction and childbearing and demographics, I see someone grasping for immortality and permanence. They latch on to base bias to give them some comfort as their hair falls out and their skin wrinkles. They want something solid in the world as they face the Reaper, and we all know the world isn’t solid.

There, in the end, is the cry of so many bigots – “I am afraid to die.”

–Xenofact