ethics

The Joy of Cultivation

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In my various Taoist-infused spiritual meditation. There’s something I noted in both my own experience and in the writings of different teachers, sage, immortals, and weirdos – that there’s a real joy in self-cultivation.

Meditation. Ethical contemplation. Dietary improvement. Self-analysis. Reading and informing oneself. There’s a real pleasure in all of it that I saw in everything from Taoist mystics to Confucian intellectuals to mystics and magicians. I get this, and it’s a joy I think more people could appreciate.

My meditative work, both breath and energy work, help me explore myself, develop myself, understand myself. It’s like refining a metal, gradual work as something beautiful emerges. I sit down and tune my breath and rest mind, or circulate energy, there, in touch with myself – even when a distraction frustrates me at least I’m there, alive.

My meditative work is also about skill development. Tuning that breath and attention. Being aware of the flows of energies. Every day is a chance to improve that skill, every day I’m a little bit better (well, statistically) at what I do.

My meditative studies are fulfilling. To read documents thousands of years old, to analyze symbols and translations, informs me and connects me to others that laid the foundation for me now. Wrestling with symbolism may at times be frustrating (notoriously so in Taoist alchemy) but it is also connecting and energizing. I’m there, understanding, relating, and going “what the heck” just as people have for thousands of years.

I also work on my ethics, my place in society because you can’t escape that – being human. I may be a mystic of sorts, but it’s not in a monastery – indeed I’m of the mind that self-cultivation is best directly in human society if you can handle it. It may be more challenging, but it’s also fulfilling as I am in direct contact with people and can learn more quickly.

My ethical studies and interests also, again, connect me to others. I can discuss with other people so included to self-cultivation, but I also connect with past writers as I read their books. There is something about reading advice from a thousand years ago that is relevant to today that is illuminating and connecting. There’s also something about trying to be a better person and really figure out what to do in this world.

(And at times frustrating, as you’re realizing how many a human problem hasn’t changed. But it’s a frustration that connects me to another frustrated person of centuries ago!)

My mystical work, prayer, theurgy, also connects me to the bigger picture. To think of gods, of the great forces of the world (however abstract or embodied you prefer) is to think of the way the world works. It is to think about the powers that are and what your role in all of it is. It is to ask “where am I in all of this?”

Of course there is the Tao, and it’s hard to discuss the contemplation of that, of the Big Picture. But you get the idea.

And of course there’s questions of diet and ethical diet, of proper use or non-use of certain substances, and so on. That joy of cultivation, of becoming better, connects you to so many things. Even when those things are questioning if you should down a glass of rum (my preferred alcohol) or not.

There is a joy in this cultivation.

This is something I also think is important to modern times – if I may be so bold, needed. Making being actually better part of your life. Not what’s expected, necessarily. Not what’s trendy. But of getting real.

Maybe, as I write this, that’s a joy I should share more. But I suppose writing this is a good start.

–Xenofact

Cultural Cargo Cults Ethics and Taoism

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I was reading the Tao Te Ching lately, and Chapter 18 struck me. Let me paraphrase (from Red Pine and a few other translations):

When the Great Way is left, kindness and justice arise

When reason arises, we encounter deceit.

When the six relations fail, we encounter obedience and love.

When the country is in chaos, we acknowledge honest officials.

I take this chapter to be one of failure. If people hold to the Tao, the Great Way, that connectedness-of-reality, you can have an orderly life. When you loose it things fall apart – even if we think we’re being virtuous.

The arising of kindness and justice sounds like a good thing. Reason is a good thing, correct? Yet the entire chapter is one of decline, ending with one of my favorite lines, the acknowledgement of honest officials – when shouldn’t they all be honest?

It’s a curious chapter indeed. Some things we’d think of are good are sneered at. When contemplating it, I had a useful insight relevant to political and social conversations of the day.

The way I read the chapter is the sense of the Tao, that unity, leads to harmony. There are kindness and justice, reason, good relations, and so on, but they are part of a “unified” worldview that is both mystical bust also practical. There may be kindness, honesty, and so on, but they are the result of holding to the Tao – not separate and distinct from it. “True” virtuous things, as it were, things that have a foundation.

But when you loose that sense of unity, everything is broken, out, separate, a substitute. That’s when I thought of the term bandied about these days (in 2026) – “Cargo Cults.”

The term “Cargo Cult Fascism” arose to describe certain would-be strongmen of our age who seemed to think that if they acted like fascist leaders, they’d have automatic compliance. The term spread to other areas of political and social discussion, noting just how much of our society was people acting out things but not actually doing them or caring about them or understanding them. Such people and their actions often failed and fell apart – bad but also dysfunctional.

But if you have “bad” Cargo Cults, that also means you can have ones of people trying to be “good.”

Suddenly, I understood this chapter of the Tao Te Ching better (especially considering the times of Taoist-versus-Confucian). It was about fragmented things, divided from a larger reality, imitative but with no foundation. Past a point you’re just going through the motions and not being anything, and not connected to the Way, the foundation of things, the depth of it all. Your kindness, your morality, no matter how hard you try, is going to be a bit hollow, a bit of an act, without that foundation.

I think that’s also why the last line hits me hard. Imagine a society in so much chaos that saying someone is an “honest minister” is a compliment as opposed to indicating that if that’s exceptional your government sucks. Also maybe that person is just a poser anyway.

Regularly reading great spiritual and philosophical works is good not just for your own spiritual “ecosystem” but for reviewing and thinking over modern and past times. This was a useful insight, helping me understand both past writings and our current situations.

(I mean the situations are both terrible but I understand them better)

–Xenofact

The Mournful Monk

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Mystics like myself face some deep questions when it comes to the use of violence. This is understandable as we’re people who take a connected view of reality. When you start severing connections, you have some things to deal with.

Violence is a blunt instrument, and history – and oft experience – teaches us it’s limits. Scorched earth, mourning families, and societies falling into punitive revenge as a method of “justice.” We also know the personal effects, from coping with loss to people who become addicted to the high of anger and revenge. It’s easy to see why many a philosopher and mystic has said “hey, people, let’s lay off all the killing.”

At the same time, like it or not, violence can be the answer. There are times it’s the best tool, or the only tool left, to deal with some pretty horrible situations. Whatever the fallout, sometimes it seems not using force is the worse option. Violence may not solve problems, but it can sure as hell delay them, decrease them, or give you time for better solutions.

This area has often troubled me, but something that helped me make sense of it comes from Buddhist tale.

The story has different forms, but essentially it takes place in “older times” where a Buddhist monk is on a boat crossing a river with various passengers. A man (sometimes a madman) begins threatening people with a knife, obviously going to kill people. The monk cracks the man over the head with an oar, killing him. When the surprised people interrogate the monk, he simply and sadly notes that the now-dead man would have created a lot of bad karma, and he was being merciful.

It’s one of those koan-like tales, with stunning contrasts make you think. Is it more merciful to use violence at times? You may actually prevent someone from leaving a horrific legacy (karma). It’s violence for the sake of compassion.

As I think of this tale further, the monk did not posture or brag or even accept praise. His action was part of his practice, albeit an extreme part – he reduced suffering and potential suffering in the world. He did not take on a career of vigilantism or seek vengeance on the allies or friends or neighbors of the man he killed. Violence was a tool, not his personality – he kept being a monk.

Violence that prevented worse and that was done in a way that didn’t corrupt the committer nor those around him.

This further reminds me of Taoist teachings that recommend against glorifying violence, displays of weaponry, and taking a cautious, mournful approach (and some would argue, more covert means). Violence may be needed, but you can avoid the trap of getting really into it. Violence can be addictive, and it can become all of your personality, as we’ve oft seen in history, from people to countries.

This story and these thoughts have helped me understand violence in context of a more mystical view. It may be necessary, but should never be the goal. It should be something that you use to prevent worse, not glorified. Finally, make sure it doesn’t change who you are into something worse by doing it for what you hope are the right reasons. It’s an approach that takes a more connected approach to the world and our hard questions.

I admit in the world at this time it may seem naive. But having seen how people will fight for what they care about, and how violence corrupts those who do not care, it’s something to think about. It also means you may act in ways violence-inclined people can’t comprehend – the monk’s target never saw him coming, after all.

– Xenofact