Meditation

And So Words Become Part of Us

by

I have many copies of the Tao Te Ching in my library.  I found joy in reading different translations because I found new insights each time and learned about the different translators.  One copy could provide lessons no other could, and together they were more powerful.

Regretfully, I had not read any of my copies in a while.  When I remediated this, I found something interesting happening after reading two or three translations – I felt the words in the book as much as I read them.  This feeling helped me gain insights and even led to some well-needed behavior and personal changes to deal with certain challenges.

(Specifically, this happened while reading the Red Pine translation, an excellent one, but one to read after you’ve gone through some easier translations)

In my younger years, I would read philosophical and meditative writings and then be frustrated at how hard it was to “change myself.”  With study and time, I found that personal growth or exploring mental and mystical spaces took work.  Mental and mystical journeys are oft one foot in front of another, and trying to jump ahead risks frustration or delusion.

Words inspire, guide, and inform but they are not a destination.  Now I saw they were also their own form of meditation.

I realized my reading of the Tao Te Ching had been a kind of exercise or meditation.  Anyone familiar with the book knows the small chapters, well-translated, can be very evocative.  I had soaked these in by reading and rereading nearly two dozen different copies, and now reading them brought forth lessons old and new.  The words had become part of me.

Reading words and trying to bash our thoughts into place to follow them is too easy to do and usually fails.  These experiences are a reminder that reading and rereading (or hearing and rehearing) wise words and transformative thoughts is a meditation.  We have to give words time to work their way into our minds, to be analyzed, felt, and understood.

I’m sure we’ve all heard stories of sages, holy men, hermits, and mystics who would read and reread a certain book.  Now I understand their efforts much more.

– Xenofact

The Map Is The Mirage

by

Earlier I commented on how my own meditative work was slowed when I focused less on doing it and more on reaching milestones.  When I focused on milestones, I got frustrated or risked taking shortcuts.  When you have a map, you can forget the importance of the journey – and no matter what you still have to make the journey.

This was part of a realization of why many esoteric documents may resort to obscurity and symbolism.  Too much of a map, and you end up inviting frustration and confusion.  However, I want to share another realization from my “contemplation of maps” – that detailed “mystical maps” also invite self delusion.

One of my interests is keeping an eye on spiritual grifters (indeed, it comprises a surprising part of my podcast listening).  As I follow the grifters I also wonder about the followers.  These followers will report spiritual experiences, alien incarnations, but heir descriptions were filled with jargon, repeated conspiracy theories, and so on.  They seem quite sincere, but their experiences often seemed to be, well, a little too imagined.

I’m sure we’ve all had times in meditation or magic where we realized “I am deluding myself,” of course.  Remember when you had expectations and later realized you’d made some of it up?  When you map out experiences you can make yourself believe you’re experiencing them.

I think some people taken in by spiritual grifters imagine these experiences as the grifter gives them a map.  Do this meditation to awaken your starseed self, be it Blue Avian or Pleadean!  Do these meditations and you’ll experience Angel communication!  Tell people their needs are met by “doing x to get y,” throw in some social pressure, and people will imagine all sorts of things.

Plus the grifters get to sell books, amulets, talks, get internet exposure, and so on.  If it goes stale, just make up some new grift and do it all over again.  Some people selling spiritual ephemera go through multiple entire belief systems.

Thus we can see another reason for use of symbolism or a little obscurity in mystical documents.  Not providing too much of a map lowers the chance people will delude themselves.  I imagine finding the right balance is a challenge, and makes me appreciate the many monks, magicians, and philosophers who found it.

As a closing note, as stated earlier, I believe mystic practices are fundamentally liberating and should be shared far and wide.  I’m just realizing it’s good to require some work, skepticism, and analysis of those you’re trying to reach.

– Xenofact

Accuracy Through Obscurity

by

When I returned to my meditative practices after a long break (entirely my own fault), I found myself frustrated.  Where were the insights I once had?  Why was this so hard, filled with distractions?  Where was this milestoneI had once passed, or that milestone I had reached?

Sometimes I suddenly had success, returning to the progress of years ago – and then it would snap back like a rubber band.  I had some techniques to help me, but they were temporary, and I’d end up back where I was, sitting and wondering what I was doing wrong after all those years.

Months of this (and further interruptions I had to work around), frustrated me further.  Eventually a random insight thanks to a podcast provided the righteous puncturing to my ego – I was trying to force my past experiences.  I was using a map and trying to force myself to a location instead of going step by step.

I focused on doing my practices properly and avoided interruptions, going bit by bit, breath by breath. The tensions, the frustration faded, and I made the progress I had sought with surprising rapidly.  The map in my head didn’t help, it just made me frustrated and unhappy with myself.

Yes, it was a terrible display of egotism.  But I value the insight – plus it makes a useful blog post!  Also, this post further gives my ego a good deflation, and that thing needs it.

This experience made me think of some of the Taoist documents I love, such as The Secret of the Golden Flower.  Though some of them describe certain meditative states, they oft use metaphor, maybes, and warnings of when you’re off the path.  In turn I thought about other mystical and meditative practices that seemed irritatingly obscure or symbolic.  I began to see the value of obscurity and symbolism in mystical practices.

I’ve always believed mystical, spiritual, magical practices should be as open as possible.  They are liberating and I am all for “liberation mysticism.”  But I realized that trying to map out what and how a mystical experience should happen invites people to become frustrated, to force it, or to use the map to imagine they’re having the experience.

I may have avoided the last one, but I certainly experienced the first two.
Now my meditation is just walking on the path, doing my techniques moment by moment, breath by breath.  My goal is to do them right and that’s what matters.  I’m walking the path, I’ll get to where I should be by sitting right there on my cushion.  I have my past experiences and writings by learned people to provide me signs, and I’ll recognize them when I see them.

A little obscurity is needed so you don’t deceive yourself.

  • Xenofact