Psychology

Meditation Is Rebellion

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Like many people I meditate. My specific technique is based on Thomas Cleary’s translation of The Secret of The Golden Flower. I breathe slow and regular, mind on breath, tuning it all the time, returning my mind to the breath when distracted. There is more to be said – I mean this is from an entire book said to be written by Lu Dong-Bin himself – but that’s the basics.

I often think about meditations (and yes, I realize the irony). Recently, I realized this simple process sometime feels like rebellion.

I’m sitting there just breathing and watching myself breathe. I’m not busy trying to be my idea of myself. I’m not trying to be what other people expected me to be. I’m there, but I’m not being any one of the me’s I could be. Just breathing.

I’m not doing anything but breathing and watching. I’m not doing anything or taking any action or making anything. I’m not a job or a position or part of the economy or whatever. Just breathing.

I’m not “doing it perfectly.” I’m just doing what I do, mind on breath and breath on mind. There’s no “perfection” or someone else telling me what to do. In fact, The Secret of the Golden Flower doesn’t even talk perfection (it’s a very pleasant read, honestly).

I’m not even doing some deep metaphysical analysis or exercise – that’d be a distraction from my mind on my breath and my breath on my mind. There I am, engaged in what some would think of as a mystical act, I’m not particularly mystical or acting. Yes, things may happen, but it’s not the goal.

There’s something incredibly rebellious about just being there but not trying to be or do anything. The pure realness of the experience is unclassifiable.

So, that’s a small bit of sharing from me to you – I assume if you read my writings you mediate or consider it. Maybe it’ll give you a way to look at your meditation with a fresher, different, view.

And you can also ask what you and I are rebelling against.

– Xenofact

Racism, Hell, and Insecurity

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Many strains of American Christianity have a racism paradox.  They are clearly bigoted in past and present actions, often embodied by their adherents and leaders in ways subtle and gross (and grotesque).  Now such bigotries clearly would go against almost any sane interpretation of Jesus, a pleasant fellow by all accounts who invited people to love each other and never set down any racial boundaries.  However we see such bigotries with painful clarity in our culture today (specially, 2023) even as some of these strains of Christianity seek to control our country.

I’ve also noticed a peculiar brittleness in practitioners of these bigoted strains of Christianity.  There’s a defensiveness and an anger, a kind of fear of a person who feels something can break any moment.  It may manifest as bravado or ever-speedier speech, but there’s something there that’s delicate.  I want to discuss this behavior, these moments of fearful eyes, cracked voices, and aggressive yet confused postures easily apparent in newscasts, recordings, and fundraisers.

(I am aware American Christianity has other sins, but I focus on this brittleness because it is a problem in America, and it utterly flies in the face of most interpretations of Jesus.  Honestly, the man deserves better.)

In exploring this brittleness, this insecurity that boils up in these strains of Christianity when they confront racism, it’s necessary to discuss the idea of Hell.  In popular Christianity the idea is simple – you get judged when you die and irrevocably go to the afterlife, which may include eternal torment for being a bad person.  Now I would argue that actual biblical literalism would argue for a resurrection, but again this is what is believed.

Now if you believe that bad people go to Hell, and one is a Christian where one is called to love people by Christ, then being a racist, simply means you’d possibly go to Hell.  I mean one is not just hating people, but not helping them when in need and quite possibly harming them directly and indirectly.  In fact, to spout racist rhetoric is to slander a person, and Jesus was pretty against that too (Matthew 5:22).

(It’s really hard to read the New Testament and imagine Jesus being fine with racism.  Of course many people try to imagine him being fine with many terrible things, but those take effort as well.)

This means many bigoted Christians are caught in a trap of fearing damnation but also very obviously doing what Jesus said would get you damned.  The racism is so ingrained in their culture – as history has sadly shown – they can’t give it up despite this fear.  Thus they have to go through many psychological acrobatics to ignore it.

And this is if they believe at all and aren’t just trying to cover up the stark truth that they’re just lying (and if caught, a better liar will steal their grift).

Thus I believe that the brittleness we see in bigoted Christians confronting their racism is in part due to this dichotomy.  Having internalized racism as part of their religion – yet not being able to reconcile it – there’s often that low level itch of “I am a bad person and am going to hell.”  To fear eternal damnation and continue to court it in your mind has to be, well, rather hellish.

Further, as one tries to reconcile blistering racial hatred with Jesus, one has to consider past actions.  American history has plenty of Christians excusing and participating in horrible racist atrocities.  To look at the words of Jesus and the threat of damnation is to open your mind to the possibility an enormous amount of your ancestors are eternally in the grip of Satan forever.

Obviously a book could be written on bigotry, the fear of damnation, and Christianity.  I certainly won’t explore it in a blog post or simple musing.  But I think as we deal with American Christianity and racism, it’s important to keep in mind this brittleness.  There’s a fundamental tension some American Christians have gnawing at the back of their minds – being racist and fearing damnation for it.

And as we deal with their actions and plays for power, we’ll want to keep that in mind.

– Xenofact

The Pause That Refreshes

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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