Meditation

Creativity and the Celestial Mind

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In my readings of Taoist mysticism, there’s an idea from some works (that dates back a bit over 1000 years by my guess) that describe the Human Mind and the Celestial Mind. The Human Mind is often described in terms of Yin, the receptive force of the universe, but a very pathological form – grasping, distracted, etc. Meanwhile the Celestial Mind, the enlightened mind, is described as Yang, the creative force, but concealed by the Human Mind. The creative power and the receptive form-giver are out of wack.

I found this concept helped appreciate my artistic creativity and it’s helped me in my meditations. In fact, I plan to write on this more.

The metaphor of the Human versus Celestial Mind is a helpful metaphor understand meditation. Our human mind, pursuing various activities like breathing, clarifies and calms itself, so something else emerges – the Celestial Mind. We’ve probably all been there – a state of clarify, powerful, subtle, and of course something we keep getting back to again and again as we keep getting away fro it.

With this metaphor of this Celestial Mind, this clear and calm yet somehow powerful and creative force, I began noticing something about my creativity.

When I was really creative, such as with my surrealist art, there was something about it. It was emergent, it wasn’t exactly part of my “everyday mind.” After a good art session I felt different, in touch with something, though it was almost like there was a hole in my regular self that something else poured through. It felt similar to what happened in meditations, those moments where you’re gone but something is there.

I also noticed similar experiences with energy work. Meditating on bodily energies (wether you consider them more metaphor like me or not) leads to a kind of clarity and a sense of something deeper within us. When you’re aware of your body, you’re aware of all the STUFF going on. This was also similar to that sense of creativity, of touching something greater.

Using the above metaphor of Human and Celestial Mind, of a pathological form of Yin and a concealed Yang, I appreciated the meditative element of creativity. When you really get going something shifts, the everyday you fades away and something else comes out. The “you” experienced in meditation and the creative you are similar if not the same thing.

I even began noticing how taking time to work on creativity seemed to correspond with better experiences in meditation. The way to the Celestial Mind was primed by both.

I hope to keep exploring this idea, as I find it in a few Taoist Documents, and I think it’s useful. I also now see how Creativity really can be a kind of meditation, and how it enhances our experiences. That Celestial Mind is there, and that’s one way to be in touch with it.

  • Xenofact

Doing Or Watching Myself Do?

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One of the weird things about meditation is what you learn about yourself – like it or not. I have sometimes said that whatever other values meditation has, the things along the way are beneficial. A lot of it comes from understanding your own habits, obsessions, and mistakes.

In this case, I’d like to talk about learning the difference between doing and watching.

My meditative practice, as noted often, is informed by The Secret of the Golden Flower (Cleary Translation) among other readings. I tune my breath to be slow and even as I watch it, refining my breath and my awareness as I go. I sometimes call it the Triple Action as following, slowing, and evening is all one.

Without going into the benefits and experiences – as I and others note discussing goals often distracts from the act – it’s fascinating to see what happens when I get off track. If you’re not a meditatior and wonder “how can you get off track by just breathing evenly and slowly” then my advice is “try to do it consistently for five minutes.”

So anyway there I am meditating and tuning my breath, feeling strangely distracted and distant, and of course I continue to meditate since that continuity is part of the point. I continued and still felt like something wasn’t quite right, that I couldn’t quite focus. Then suddenly I become aware of what’s happening.

I’m not just there following my ever-refining breath, I’m watching myself do it. I’m following the watching of myself. It’s like doing something by looking in a mirror – just a lot of what we do is looking at reflections of ourselves in our own mind, our own self-image. I was so intent on the mirror I kept losing focus on the thing I wanted to pay attention to – my breath.

Now I kept up with my practice – insights can be distractions – but that stuck with me when I was done. Sometimes you’re not watching something, you’re watching watching. Sometimes you’re not thinking, you’re thinking about yourself thinking. The human mind can get into some pretty wild infinite recursion, which is immediately obvious as soon as you remember your last neurotic obsession.

This was a reminder of how we can make simple things very complex, how we over-think, over-monitor, and end up abstract from our lives. It’s pretty amazing what following your tuned breath can reveal to you.

But don’t let such realizations distract you.

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McMindfulness: Aware In The Dark

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I picked up McMindfulness by Ronald E Purser when I saw it at a store, right after it had been mentioned on a podcast.  I’d heard of this look at the “mindfulness industry” and how repurposed stripped-down Buddhism was used to basically serve capitalism.  So I picked it up, read it, and found that my summary was a little too genteel.  So let me review the book – and heartily recommend it.

The book starts by looking at how, over the decades, mindfulness exercises taken in part from Buddhism had become big business in seminars and corporate advice.  The core idea is that you become more aware of your actions (and reactions) and thus mindful, are not as troubled by the world because you are so aware.  You’ll notice, by the way, it stops there – you just learn to navigate the world better as opposed to asking “why am I so stressed out?” and “why do things suck?”

The author, a Buddhist himself, walks through the Mindfulness Industry and shows how widespread it is but also how useless it is.  Since the industry is firmly lodged in neoliberal capitalism, it has no interest in fixing the system it’s in – which often causes the problem.  In fact, seeing how Mindfulness has become a corporatized product illustrates the problems of our economic and culture – which the Mindfulness Industry can’t and won’t solve.

During this tour, Purser notes firmly and intelligently that this separated selfish pseudo-self awareness misses out on Buddhism’s teachings on community, compassion, and responsibility.  The Mindfulness Industry doesn’t just take a few bits of Buddhism, it outright excludes the social elements of the religion and its teachings.  It couldn’t include them since then they’d basically be selling something that wouldn’t fill those big corporate conferences – and worse.

Because, Purser goes in depth more than I expected on mindful politics, war-waging, and more.  We’re so used to the “mindfulness” stuff we might not realize how far it’s penetrated, showing up in banal political speeches and efforts that desensitize people in the name of “not being reactive.”  Even if you pay attention to this stuff, you may be surprised beyond your capacity for cynicism.

Purser also speculated on how McMindfulness produces a selfish, separated, almost abstract sense of self.  I can see echoes of the prosperity gospel and online conspiracy theories in his speculations – both ways to seek wealth and self-aggrandizement, but without any responsibility or even real transformation.  If anything, I think there’s more to study in this area.

He does see hope – or ways – to free Mindfulness from its current corporate shackling.  So it’s not a hopeless book – it’s one carried by a kind of passionate loving rage.  So yes, you’ll get angry Buddhist when you read this.

A firm recommendation for seekers like ourselves.

-Xenofact