Philosophy

I Am A Whirling Thing

by

My meditative practices mostly come from Taoist, Buddhist, and psychological works. My goal is to sit there with myself, watching in that focused-yet-relaxed state that is hard to describe. Note of course, I do not say I want to reach a checklist of mental states – doing comes first, and I could probably write a lot more on that.

My practice is also simple – sitting cross-legged, back straight, breathing in a slow constant cycle, mind resting on breath. This is advocated in my oft-mentioned The Secret of the Golden Flower, and like that lovely manual it’s simple, yet you could also discuss it at endless length. We humans love words, and we love to use them to describe the hard-to-describe.

You’ll notice despite my love of words, I’m often cagey about discussing these things. However, there is one insight I feel fine holding forth on as it is interesting and won’t put you, my reader, at risk, of trying to force yourself to experience meditative states.

Slow, regular, even breathing is a fascinating thing to watch because it’s a cycle. As I’ve practiced in my return to meditation, I’ve realized that everything is a cycle. Breath meditation isn’t that special, really, which is why it’s so important.

We live in an environment of cycles. The seasons go in their circles, water evaporates then precipitates, animal populations rise and fall. We depend on these great circles to live – and as we have seen, ignore or alter them at our peril.

Our societies and histories are cycles. There are times of taxes and of building, of growth and contraction. Civilizations come and go – often in depressing predictability in hindsight. Humanity’s “journey forward” even seems to be a spiral of repetition, though our ignorance of our environment suggests we’re heading for a nasty swing.

Human relations are cycles. We are born and grow, roles changing and expanding. Students become mentors to other students. Children become citizens. Someone at the height of their achievements will retire (well, if they’re smart).

We ourselves are cycles. Our daily waking and sleeping, eating and digestion, birth and death. Even when we end, other cycles begin – decomposition, and some would believe reincarnation.

I can see the cycles of my life and my behaviors when I pause. There are great circles and spirals of growth. There are predictable life patterns you can see in others. There’s even simple things like foods I like then leave then like again.

Then there’s meditation.

I am a cycle of cycles and part of cycles. I am a whirling thing.

– Xenofact

The Tool

by

An acquaintance of mine recently got me a copy of the Enchiridion, containing recorded teachings of the stoic philosopher Epictetus.  As I have no acquaintance with his works, I expect it to be informative – but I want to talk about the delight I take in the book’s name.

As I understand it (between the book and quick research), “enchiridion” translates roughly as “a thing in the hand” or “something you hold in one hand.”  It usually applies to two things – a manual or a dagger.

When referring to a book, it implies a manual, a concise guide – something small enough to hold with one hand while you read it.  That take on the word reminds me of how many books I like are essentially manuals.  The Tao Te Ching, The Secret of the Golden Flower, and of course many small publications in my library.  “A useful thing that fits in one hand” gives the feeling of conciseness, focus, and a lack of epehemra.

Enchiridion also means a one-handed dagger or sword – a term I was not familiar with and have mostly seen used in games if at all.  It’s also an understandable use of the term – a weapon that fits in one hand.

Both takes put me in mind of a single word – tool.  Either use of the term Enchiridion implies something simple, focused, and useful.

This reminded me of how books, pamphlets, and zines can be made so they’re tools.  Focused, precise, useful – and not over large.  A book can overstay it’s welcome, or one book is best as several.  A good manual, an Enchiridion if you will, should be something that does the job, just like the term meant a book that fit in one hand (before tablets, that’s cheating).

It’s OK to write something small.  One of Epictetus’ students did, and it’s survived to this day, so I can sit here and ruminate on the very name it holds

Go write yourself your own Enchiridion, your own special tool for people.

– Xenofact

The Pause That Refreshes

by

I’m always reading something, and of course some of that is about magic, mysticism, and so on. Currently it’s a mixture of Taoism, history, creativity, and Depressing Real World Stuff. As of late, I’ve added something else to my cycle – “philosophy refreshers.”

I have a large collection of Tao Te Ching translations (well over 20 and recently expanded). Though some are better than others, I find a reading of the Tao Te Ching is a good refresher to getting me in a healthy “Tao-oriented” mentality. As long as the translation is half-decent it helps me think of my life, the big picture, and what’s good for me and everyone.

So what I’ve decided to do? Every book or two I read, I then read a copy of the Tao Te Ching before reading something else. As it’s not a long book – sort of the Compact Car of religion and philosophy – I can do it in as short as an evening.

I got this idea after reading about a Taoist hermit who was obsessed with the Tao Te Ching. He was said to reread it constantly, and was considered a kind of holy or wise man. I’m not prone to reread something that much, but it did make me think “maybe reviewing this book that means so much to me is a good idea.”

I’ve found this has a number of benefits I’d like to share.

First, it’s a pause in whatever thing I’m currently focused on. I tend to go down rabbit holes now and then so it provides a break. This break is often relaxing, thought-provoking and even funny is even better.

Secondly, the Tao Te Ching for all its Deep Subject Matter, has a beautifully light feel to it. That means it’s also a great moment of rest from whatever Heavy Stuff my mind is on. A lot of Taoist stuff is like that – light yet deep.

Third, rereading something that is foundational to my ways of thinking keeps me grounded and refreshes me. Every week or two I get re-centered on who I am, how I think, how I’ve grown. I also get a good dose of translator notes and thought-provoking moments.

Also it gives me an excuse to buy even more translations. Taoist retail therapy, as it were, but I won’t count that in the list.

I’ve found this to be a real positive to my studies and readings and ruminations. As you can guess, I feel better, feel more grounded, fee more thoughtful, have more insights. I’m glad I gave this a try – and will continue to do it.

I invite you to consider “refreshers” like this in your own studies and readings. Reread a particular book, or a few chapters of a longer one so you complete it over time. Do something that helps you soak in the lessons important to you and take a break.

Let me know how that goes!

– Xenofact