Chicken and Egging It On

Baroness Radon

I've been asked to shed some perspective on Taoism's deep roots in the Chinese mindset or worldview, because of my conviction that to really grasp the Chinese concepts in the philosophy and religion (something the Chinese don't distinguish the way we do), a minimal grounding in Chinese history, culture, art, language, and even current events, is useful, if not essential. Visiting China, witnessing change, even over two or three decades in a culture with 5,000 years of continuity, has helped me too. But since that is really a luxury, one I have been fortunate to indulge, sharing my experiences is all I can do. Perhaps my reminiscences and musings will stimulate an interest to dig deeper, as those of Blofeld or Peck or Rand, all the old Chinese hands, have done for me.

As I think of this, I do wonder if it is Taoism that has helped me understand the Chinese, or is it the other way around. (Assuming I actually understand either.) But looking back over my more than 45 years of sinophilia, even before I grappled with the notions of tao long outside a college class on comparative religion, I think it is China that has helped. But it is a western sort of prejudice to try to figure out which came first, General Tso's chicken or the thousand-year egg. (In that case, definitely the egg.)

So how to discuss China's 5,000 years of history (quite unified in the Chinese view) to shed light for readers of this and the other blog? Slowly, slowly, as my Chinese painting instructor would say.

Two examples of tao in culture, mundane not exotic, one as recent as this week, one ancient, came to my mind as I engaged in my early morning contemplation, (not meditation), a period between sleep and wakefulness, where things I have been thinking about seem to have a spontaneous clarity. The illustrations are Hong Kong politics and shoulder poles. These are ways the Chinese live tao, not just talk about it.

Hong Kong Politics. If you have been watching, you know that the the third Chief Executive of Hong Kong, since the 1997 Handover of the colony from the British to the Chinese, was recently "elected" by a committee of twelve hundred delegates representing the HK Special Administrative Region of more than seven million people. The victory of C.Y. Leung was a surprise really, because the heir- apparent, the horse-faced Henry Tang, due to scandals worthy of U.S. presidential primary campaigns, lost his front-running status because of sexual and economic indiscretions. Whatever.

Since 1997, the leader (usually a well-connected businessman) has always been someone expected to kowtow to the Central Committee, under the guise of a Basic Law that was negotiated through the late '80s by Margaret Thatcher and Deng Xiao Ping. (Deng Xiao Ping was the PRC's head of state and party who succeeded Mao Zedong, and who is held responsible for China's not-too-long march to unparalleled economic revival since. He is remembered for his famous statement, very un-Maoist, "To get rich is glorious.") Another curious slogan was used to prepare the way to the Handover: "One Country, Two Systems." This was to assure that Hong Kong might continue as the world's best example of a free market economy under the protection of a Central Communist regime. There was a thought that ultimately, by now, universal suffrage would be granted to the democracy-craving people of Hong Kong, (they didn't have any of it under the Brits, either) but the Committee of 1,200 suggests that that is far from ever happening (...maybe 2017).

"One Country, Two Systems." How very Chinese. The unity of tao (The One Party), expressed through socialist yin and capitalist yang. And encompassing the wuxing (five "elements" of several other "separate autonomous" regions like Inner Mongolia, Tibet, Xinjiang (China's largely Islamic northwest) and...dare we anticipate?...the "renegade province" of Taiwan. Because there is a pretty obvious trend to develop Shanghai as the new Hong Kong, I found amusing a sign on a Chinese freeway, apparently for an insurance company, illustrating the two cities, which seem to share a harbor, despite the fact that Shanghai is on the East Coast of China, and Hong Kong is in the South China Sea. If you didn't know the two skylines, you would assume it was one big metropolis. Needless to say, Shanghai somewhat overshadows Hong Kong. Shanghai is HUGE.

Shoulder poles. My husband worked as a hod carrier one college summer, so I asked him this morning, "Did any of you guys ever use shoulder poles?" They didn't, because moving stuff around in the west is usually in a wheelbarrow or cart, pushed or pulled, or carried in two hands, the way I carry grocery bags. But I see shoulder poles, biandan, an ancient tool, still used all the time in China. The shoulder pole puts the carrier in a slightly different position: you are moving things, balanced front to back (not side to side like a milkmaid's yoke) using forward momentum and easily negotiating a path (unlike the milkmaid's yoke). It is not pushing or pulling, it is flowing.

I have seen people using the pole to move buckets of pig slop in the country, sacks of live frogs on Hong Kong streets, bricks and cement on construction sites, and more suitcases than you could handle two-handed, and more efficiently than wheelies. The little wood carrier with his bundles of sticks on either end of a shoulder pole is a common element in Chinese landscape painting. The person, the body, becomes the center point in a taiji, yang to the front, yin to the back, propelled forward by the essentially circular movement of the feet (qi).

Both of these examples, to me, illustrate the principles of yin and yang, the notion that things can be both on and off, that dynamic moving states of on-ing-ness and off-ing-ness (really, the whole point of the I Ching) are what distinguishes the Chinese way from the western. We talk a lot of tao; do we actually experience it in an unconscious, everyday way as illustrated by Hong Kong politics or shoulder poles?

(If you are reading this on The Rambling Taoists, you can go here to see illustrations.)

You can check out other musings from the Baroness here.

Stimulus and Response -- The Dao of Dialogue

Baroness Radon

Although this isn't the post that Trey is expecting -- I have promised a couple of things on Chinese history and the difficulties of cross-cultural transmission of ideas especially in the context of Daoism -- it is something I feel must be addressed at the moment.

Someone pointed out in reply to a comment I made earlier, "Funny that the Baroness is the first to criticize a post, but rarely writes any of her own." I won't deny that's true, and I won't deny that I am frequently critical of and frustrated by some of the interpretations and notions expressed about Dao and other things here. (And I should know better than to get into political discussions.) But I will assert that some of those comments are posts, they are just hidden in the shady valley of the comment field.

Being the yin/female voice of the group, it is my nature to respond, and usually quickly, to the stimulus of the yang/male posts. I call it dialogue and I am sometimes disappointed, (unfulfilled?) when the response goes unacknowledged. I do not regard Daoism as being any kind of static position (it is a celebration of change, really) and unless someone is actually "enlightened" (unlikely here), back and forth, round and round dialogue (with others as well as within our own hearts) is one way we come to a greater understanding. If you don't want to hear other opinions, you are stuck. Occasionally, though not as often as on some forums I participate in, we get a good sustained debate going here. Does anyone really want to hear only one side? Eventually we may all agree, but I think that is a long way off; we are still in the post-heaven world of red dust.

I have said it all before: I am a sinophile; I do not subscribe to the western philosophical/religious Dao distinction; I find no serious worth in popular western Daoism (e.g., Wayne Dyer, the Tao of Pooh, hippie new age surfer self-help Dao); I am interested in neidan and practice qigong; I read the literature of Daoism (the canon) which goes far beyond the Dao De Jing and Zhuangzi; I study Chinese arts and language...and yet I am still "attached" to a liberal Christian/Catholic background. I am not afraid of temples, whether they house Guan Yin or the BVM. (Although I have to say I don't much care for the stripped-down style of very fundamentalist meeting hall sanctuaries...give me my bells and smells!) For the most part, I eschew politics and social activism. (When confronted by a leftist liberal, I lean to the right; when challenged by a ranting conservative, I lean to the left. I am like an old tree with deep roots, but flexible sprouting branches. But I recycle and try to live an economical, fiscally responsible life.)

Through the study of mystics, of the east and west, I find some hope of reconciling Dao and God as ways to live and die. Perhaps these particular questions are part of Lenten fasting and discipline; must go find my Thomas Merton books. (Easter, of course, is the movable lunar/yin bookend to the fixed solar/yang of Christmas.)

While I'm listed here as a "scribe," I do not seem to fit the profile of a "Rambling Taoist."

Having reiterated all that, the question I have for myself, and for anyone who might respond is, do I have anything to offer to you?

You can check out other musings from the Baroness here.

Enlightenment of the Heart

Shawn Tedrow

Tao-experienced, is not found through discovering the correct doctrine.

Experiential knowledge of Tao is not realized by thinking our way in.

The receiver of Tao is the condition of the heart.

When the heart is positioned to receive, it receives.

It is not the answer that enlightens; it is the heart of the questioner.

~

Please note; the last line about “it is not the answer” is a spin-off and reconfiguration I did from a quote from Eugene Ionesco.

A special thanks to the inspirational words of Jesus when he said, “Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be”.

[Note: This is Shawn's final post as a scribe at The Rambling Taoists.]

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.

Empty Words or Words from Character

Shawn Tedrow

I recently wrote a post entitled Thinking or Being that seemed to stir up a little controversy. Though I attempted to withdraw any doubt that this was meant to be people specific, I do not withdraw the premise of my post.

I speak to myself as well as this audience. It appears to me that today's spirituality is about swimming in the bay of clever and empty words, containing very little substance of proceeding forth from character. There seems to be a complete disconnect, where words are drifting on their own, detached from being borne of REAL LIVING.

I feel like today's spirituality is turning into a bunch of "pie in the sky" groovy words abstract from experience. It is like there is a lot of chatter about living in a particular foreign country without anyone ever LIVING in that country. But these inexperienced chatters of that country seems to keep us anchored at the Bay of Delusions, as if we are actually experiencing living in that country.

I am not at all saying that we need to start doing a bunch of good works that would replicate our words. I am trying to say that it is quite easy to "talk about" this Tao stuff, void of experiencing Tao. Then these inexperienced words seem to put us in a trance as if "these words" represent spiritual growth and understanding. Words become the standard to measure spirituality. A talented poet would win at this game.

Maybe this is why I like Trey's post when he talks about a daily experience he had. I am not saying that the Tao-talk we do needs to always be related to a specific experience but it needs to be borne from experience. Otherwise, what is it?

Who knows? Maybe I am just going through a personal observation and I am projecting it outward.

Thanks for listening.

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.

Thinking or Being

Shawn Tedrow

I am not a believer that spirituality is just a clever-brain-game of rearranging perceptions of the mind. I personally think that type of mental practice has its benefits, but is tethered by limitations.

Living the way of Tao is not just something that occurs within the cognitions of the mind. Living the Way of Tao is found in the way we live our lives. Harmony is not a lofty thought. It is a life lived.

Tao is taught and learned in our daily living. After-thoughts and reflections are borne from living. Contemplative thinking, independent of living, is delusional.

Don't talk to me about harmony; show it to me by the way you live, and then talk to me about it.

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.

Journey To The Center Of Our Ego, Part 9

Shawn Tedrow

The next day the sky was again overcast; but on the 29th of June, the last day but one of the month, with the change of the moon came a change of weather. The sun poured a flood of light down the crater. Every hillock, every rock and stone, every projecting surface, had its share of the beaming torrent, and threw its shadow on the ground. Amongst them all, Scartaris laid down his sharp-pointed angular shadow which began to move slowly in the opposite direction to that of the radiant orb.

My uncle turned too, and followed it.

At noon, being at its least extent, it came and softly fell upon the edge of the middle chimney.

"There it is! there it is!" shouted the Professor.

"Now for the centre of the globe!" he added in Danish.

~ from A Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne ~

What an exhilarating moment for Professor Lidenbrock, Axel, and Hans. One day Axel randomly decodes the ancient Runic writing, and on this day, the shadow that Arne Saknussemm had mentioned, is pointing to the way. It took the enduring faith of the professor to bring this revelation of a passageway into actuality.

Faith is an interesting subject, and I must admit, I have very little faith that this subject will be embraced by most of the Rambling Taoists on this blog.

In a previous post, I mentioned just like how William Morales discovered the Che Chem Ha Cave, we need to push aside the bush of doubt, and marvel at the wonders that were always there. In that statement, I wasn’t asking the reader to believe in something. I was asking the reader to remove their belief called doubt. Doubt is just as much a belief as belief is. Doubt has its beneficial moments and is good in the process to remove beliefs, but after it runs its course, it becomes a dogmatic belief system that needs to be discarded. Doubt becomes a block and an inhibitor to realizing Life's wonders.

A new borne child knows no doubt. The spontaneity of no-doubt, found in a child, is The Way. This innocent purity, of no-doubt, is how we should embrace each moment we live. This non-agnostic childlike attitude is living in the vibrancy of the moment. It allows for life to breathe freely and unencumbered by the belief in doubt.

Just like the appearance of this shadow was pointing the way to the entrance into the center of the earth, the spiritual life is not just a subjective experience that takes place in-between our ears.

Tao is like an ecosystem that we are a part of. Like a flower that opens its bud to the morning’s sun rising, we are interacting with Tao’s unseen (and seen) eco-energies.

Do you have this child’s faith? Do you live in this faith each moment of the day? Does your spirit feel the energy of Tao like a flower does in the early morning? Live there unencumbered by the belief in doubt.

To end this post and this series, I will leave us all with the words of Hans, Professor Lidenbrock, and Axel, after they witnessed this pivotal moment of direction in their life to enter into the center of the earth.

I looked at Hans, to hear what he would say.

"Forüt!" was his tranquil answer.

"Forward!" replied my uncle.

Now began our real journey. Hitherto our toil had overcome all difficulties, now difficulties would spring up at every step.

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.

Journey To The Center Of Our Ego, Part 8

Shawn Tedrow

I was thus steeped in the marvelous ecstasy which all high summits develop in the mind; and now without giddiness, for I was beginning to be accustomed to these sublime aspects of nature.

My dazzled eyes were bathed in the bright flood of the solar rays. I was forgetting where and who I was, to live the life of elves and sylphs, the fanciful creation of Scandinavian superstitions. I felt intoxicated with the sublime pleasure of lofty elevations without thinking of the profound abysses into which I was shortly to be plunged”……………Axel

~ from A Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne ~

Wow! It looks like our boy Axel finally achieved that summit experience, called enlightenment.

Reading into this, he experienced marvelous ecstasy, revelations of sublime aspects of nature, a glance at no-self, as he forgot who he was. He had realizations of the transient play act of our egoic dream characters, and he even forgot about his fear of death. He was definitely on a roll, as he was getting accustomed to this state of mind, without giddiness. Yep, that sure sounds like enlightenment.

I suppose Axel should now start working on spelling a new name for himself. He could begin his own website and call it, “The Axle of Life”, conduct satsang meetings, and maybe even write a few books on enlightenment.

You would think that this Satori-like experience that Axel had encountered was the result from going to the center of the earth and returning back, but he hadn’t made one step into the decent of the volcano of his subconscious. Very few dare to take that step. Alchemy had not taken place yet in Alex’s life. When this euphoric experience occurred, he was standing on the summit of Sneafellsjokull, prior to him down climbing to the center of the earth.

Oh how our ego likes to co-op with spiritual experiences! This is when ego’s historical identification is still in full control of our life, and we get a glance at enlightenment. I call this claim to fame, “the enlightened ego”.

This is a common condition today in the New Age spiritual marketplace. It is when the overwhelming experience of bliss gets latched onto by our ego, and it then precipitately claims the finality of its spiritual journey. I call this state of mind, “premature cosmic ejaculation”. It is when our ego gets a little overexcited while experiencing a glimpse of ecstasy.

Many Zen teachers had a method of dealing with students who would start claiming ultimate enlightenment after experiencing partial enlightenment experiences. They would take a stick and beat the crap out of you. After a few beatings, you would finally get over yourself.

Luckily for Axel, soberness was realized through just the presence of spiritual companionship.
After Axel experienced this heavenly bliss, he then says;

But I was brought back to the realities of things by the arrival of Hans and the Professor, who joined me on the summit.

Again, I can’t emphasize enough that on this quest of mystery, it is so important to become deeply connected with other spiritually-minded people. Even the stubborn-headed professor knew that he needed the help of a guide when he hired Hans for this trek. Without intimate interaction with others, the subtle inclinations of ego are unconsciously in the driver seat.

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.

Journey To The Center Of Our Ego, Part 7

Shawn Tedrow

I felt that it would be worthwhile that we revisit in more detail, Axel’s reaction to the challenging revelation he encountered, and squeeze-out glimpses of human nature, that we all participate with.

After Axel understood what the coded ancient runic manuscript was saying, he then said:

Stupefaction! Terror! I sat overwhelmed as if with a sudden deadly blow. What! That which I read had actually, really been done! A mortal man had had the audacity to penetrate!....

Ah!" I cried, springing up. "But no! no! My uncle shall never know it. He would insist upon doing it too. He would want to know all about it. Ropes could not hold him, such a determined geologist as he is! He would start, he would, in spite of everything and everybody, and he would take me with him, and we should never get back. No, never! never!"

My over-excitement was beyond all description.

"No! no! it shall not be," I declared energetically; "and as it is in my power to prevent the knowledge of it coming into the mind of my tyrant, I will do it. By dint of turning this document round and round, he too might discover the key. I will destroy it."

There was a little fire left on the hearth. I seized not only the paper but Saknussemm's parchment; with a feverish hand I was about to fling it all upon the coals and utterly destroy and abolish this dangerous secret.

Then the study door opened, and my uncle appeared.

As you can see, the voice of the call to alchemy is not a welcome moment. Do you know what is interesting? We in fear, spend most of our life's efforts in defense from a spiritual transformational experience happening to us. We have our guards out in full force, and ward off ecstasy, in defense of our psychological egocentric-self until the end. Like Axel, we try to destroy and abolish its presence and its revolutionary effect on our life. That is the nature of our ego.

Why is the voice of the call to alchemy so unwelcomed into our life? Transpersonal transformation involves one life descending into death to give way to another life rising. It is the daunting sense of our life falling into oblivion, why the voice of alchemy is not welcomed. Axel said, “he would take me with him, and we would never get back”. It is the fear of death that Axel is wrestling with. The fear of once he steps into the cocoon of the volcano, “he will never come back”.

This is why we resist change and alchemy in our life. We want to hold onto our “self”, (no matter how dysfunctional it is) from never coming back and going into oblivion. We misunderstand life’s volcanic cocoon of darkness that is coming our way and do not trust its mysterious process of metamorphism, that when the ego gets crushed, unification with Tao rises.

Axel then calls his uncle a tyrant. This represents the view of looking through the eye of our ego at alchemy. Life looks like a tyrant in relationship to its movement on our life towards transformation. A definition of a tyrant is: A usurper and absolute ruler who governs without restrictions. That is how our ego-identity views Tao. We do not want to surrender our will to The Way because it would mean that we will lose complete control of our self to the tyrant of life. Ego does not want to lose control that it thinks it has. Again, this viewpoint is through the eyes of our ego.

Ego and The Way are in opposite polarities. It is like trying to put together a north and south magnet together. It can’t happen. The ego cannot surrender to Tao. Ego must undergo a spiritual regeneration of its constructed constitution to return to compatibility and union with the Source from which it came.

Realignment with Tao is not done by accepting and affirming ego, and going with its flow. Its flow is dysfunctional in relationship to Tao. This caterpillar, called the ego, cannot fly in tandem on the wings of Tao until it goes through a Metamorphosis change.

When Axel was about to throw and destroy the text into the fire, it says; “Then the study door opened, and my uncle appeared.” This represents our need for spiritual companionship and fellowship that keeps us accountable and marching forward toward alchemy. Without it, we tend to only listen to the inclinations of our ego and repel transformational change.

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.

Journey To The Center Of Our Ego, Part 6

Shawn Tedrow

Axel discovers the answer while fanning himself with the text. Afraid of what the Professor might do with this knowledge, he decides to keep the secret hidden from Professor Lidenbrock.

After two days without food he cannot stand the hunger anymore and reveals the secret to his uncle. (Remember, the Professor had locked everyone in the house to go without food until they cracked the code).

Professor Lidenbrock is a man of astonishing impatience, and departs for Iceland immediately, taking his reluctant nephew with him. Axel, who, in comparison, is cowardly and anti-adventurous, repeatedly tries to reason with him, explaining his fears of descending into a volcano and putting forward various scientific theories as to why the journey is impossible, but Professor Lidenbrock repeatedly keeps himself blinded against Axel's point of view.
~ from A Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne ~

What I will be sharing here is a sensitive subject to tread on, and very difficult to articulate. It is regarding our subconscious inner motivations to why we believe what we believe.

Principles to this understanding can be found by looking deeper, underneath the words, of Axel’s scientific theories and beliefs on why he thought they shouldn’t attempt to journey to the center of the earth.

To begin, let’s start off by imagining we are with Axel listening to him explaining his scientific ideology to the Professor. Let’s call these statements of scientific assertions by Axel, beliefs and philosophies. Axel is giving his philosophical reasons to determine why and how they should proceed in life, or in this case, why they shouldn’t proceed. But is this proclaimed formulation of doctrine from Axel just innocent reasoning of objective theory or were these reasons prompted by the undermining manipulations of Axel’s subconscious? What gave birth to the true motivation and genesis of Axel’s belief?

If we look closer into this story, we can observe that Axel kept this secret knowledge that he realized hidden from the professor because he was afraid of what it meant to his uncle and what it possibly would lead to. You can clearly see that Axel’s crafty tactfulness to hide this from his uncle was motivated out of fear. The state of his emotional demeanor, being fear-based, was dictating what he thought, said, and how he acted.

It then says that Axel couldn’t stand the pain of hunger any longer and because of that pain, he decides to come forward, face the truth of the situation, and let the professor know what he has discovered. This symbolizes how sometimes the pain and suffering of life becomes more painful than facing the implied consequences of the truth. Sometimes life's situations pressure and force us into becoming truthful with ourselves. It becomes less painful to face the truth than to deal with the pain of continuing to live a lie.

Unfortunately, many of us humans figure out how to live with our pain of living a lie, and do not transcend and evolve in life. We might even circumvent these “teaching moments” that Life brings into play, by applying philosophical Tao-Novocain on our pain, and numbingly convince ourselves that “All is well”.

It goes on to say that Axel is cowardly and anti-adventurous. Who knows exactly why Alex’s ego-identity consisted of these psychological attributes, but they did. If we knew more about Axel’s life history, we might be able to understand why this is, and even feel love and sympathy towards him.

It is from this state of mind of Axel’s emotional characteristics that gives birth to his philosophical reasoning. His philosophy is not objective, but is tainted and influenced by his subconscious. Even though he might be explaining to the Professor scientific facts, he is using these truths to sustain and preserve his ego-identity in a status quo condition.

He doesn’t want to experience and venture out into anything that will challenge and disrupt his character and possibly create change. He lives a life that is a destination; it is tethered and controlled by shielding himself through philosophy and scientific theories.

Axel doesn’t want to have anything to do with transformation and alchemy, and attempts to hold that experience at bay through his philosophy. He surely does not want to face his fears and go through a process of metamorphism.

We must remember that the journey to the center of the earth represents a journey through our unconscious, with discovery of deeper and deeper archetypes. This includes our deep-seated emotions. Axel did not want to go there within himself and see his subconscious behavior. It is by entering into the volcano of “little self”, how we transform and integrate into unity with Big-Self (Tao).

Our philosophy and behavior are direct byproducts of our subconscious. We must allow our words and actions to be penetrated with the light of consciousness, all the way to its roots. It is through allowing the center and root of our ego to be exposed, when we experience the freedom from its dream’s claims and chains. When you see it, it will then be slain.

I was once told by a Zen teacher that psychology precedes philosophy. He looked right through my philosophies and urged me to see what I was hiding behind. I was taken aback by this because, without consciously being aware, I thought that my philosophical knowledge was the proof that showed how spiritual I was. But he was suggesting that my proclamation of what light and spirituality are was loaded with personal baggage.

That was a tough message for me to swallow because, to be honest with you, I found identity in myself through my spiritually-obtained knowledge. It was who I am, I thought, and I felt that image of myself being threatened.

But what he was saying to me went even deeper than that. Could it be that my thinking that we each have our own paths was initiated and motivated by the fact that I didn’t want anyone to question the path that I was on? Could it be that my philosophical thinking -- that there is no such thing or way to know objective truth and reality -- was really just a cover for me to not allow the truth and reality of consciousness to penetrate into my self’s core-center and create real change?

This questioning of myself and my philosophy continually battered me around, as I was trying to find some kind of footing of solid ground to stand on, but it wasn’t to be found. All of my philosophical thinking could be trailed to craftily hidden, defensive tactics that was protecting my ego-identity from real change taking place.

This truly was a pivotal moment to my spiritual walk in life. I had not a clue that I was using philosophies to justify and sustain my egoic state of being. I am so thankful for this “teaching moment” that came my way.

We unconsciously have built a garrison around ego-self to ward off alchemy. We each need -- with gut wrenching sincerity -- to face our philosophical garrison head-on and remove its defensive mask of “self”-preservation, through “self”-deception.

This is a part of the metamorphic process of spiritual transformation. This is an essential staging-moment of self-discovery and journey to the center of our ego. As Carl Jung once said, “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious. The latter procedure is disagreeable and therefore not popular.”

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.

Journey To The Center Of Our Ego, Part 5

Shawn Tedrow

In the previous posts, I laid an arching overview and foundation of my musings about the book, A Journey to the Center of the Earth. The following posts will consist of a few small nuggets that I am finding while dredging through this book. Who knows, maybe this is just fool’s gold that I am panning.

The story begins on May 24, 1863, with Professor Lidenbrock rushing home to begin examining his recent purchase of an original runic manuscript.

While skimming through this ancient writing, Lidenbrock and his nephew, Axel, discover a coded note, written in runic script. They translate it into Latin letters revealing a hidden message written in a bazaar code. Lidenbrock tries to decipher the code but he is met with meaningless puzzling words.

Professor Lidenbrock decides to lock everyone in the house and force himself and the others (Axel, and the maid, Martha) to go without food until he cracks the code.

Axel eventually discovers the answer while fanning himself with the text.

This is a wonderful picture of the two essential energies, human egoic effort, and grace, meeting together with unexpected synergies, which give rise to realization. Here we witness a principal law of spiritual-physics at work, with the action of doing, working in unison, with the inactiveness of non-doing.

Professor Lidenbrock represents the act of doing. He exhibits the spiritual commitment and the passion it takes to get results. He ambitiously decides to lock everyone in the room and go without food until realization is experienced. He said, “I will neither sleep nor eat until I have found it out”. That is real commitment! We all need that type of passionate drive in our spiritual life. It is no surprise that the title of the second chapter is, “A Mystery to be Solved at Any Cost.”

Axel represents the practice of non-doing. He effortlessly, cracks the code while laid-back relaxing, fanning himself with the text. Axel’s words describing his experience were:

I wanted air. Unconsciously I fanned myself with the bit of paper, the back and front of which successively came before my eyes. What was my surprise when, in one of those rapid revolutions, at the moment when the back was turned to me I thought I caught sight of the Latin words "craterem," "terrestre," and others. A sudden light burst in upon me; these hints alone gave me the first glimpse of the truth; I had discovered the key to the cipher.

One might conclude: why put forth the effort into what the Professor was doing, when realization took place through the no-efforts of Alex?

The answer is; Alex would have never been in the room fanning himself, without the determination and craze of the Professor being expressed through locking themselves in that room. The two diametrical opposite energies were working in concert with each other.

Many teachings try and eliminate spiritual hard work as if any effort at all, is THE problem, right from the get go. In other words, non-doing should be the first and only steps you should ever take. The moment you get involved with any doing, you are walking in egoic darkness!

I contend that this spiritual concept is a misunderstanding of the many collective ancient teachings. It is putting the cart before the horses. It is putting the Buddha under the Bodhi tree and circumventing all the needed experiential journeys that the Buddha went through to arrive at a state of alchemic receptibility. I call this thinking, New-Age lazy Tao teaching.

You would think that Alex would have embraced this New-Age lazy Tao teaching considering his personal experience, but he witnessed firsthand the benefits reaped from the fiery unrestrained efforts, that the Professor had sewn.

Later on in this story Alex says this:

My uncle's rage knew no bounds. Heaven never sends unmixed grief, and for Professor Lidenbrock, there was a satisfaction in store proportioned to his desperate anxieties.

In other words, the Professor was rewarded proportionally to his passionate efforts that he put into it.

The life of non-doing is realized through the efforts of doing. One might think, why not just jump straight into the passivity of non-doing, and bypass doing, but unfortunately it doesn’t work that way.

It is through the chopping block of doing, where the doer eventually loses self’s efforts, and then the non-doing of Tao- nature, spontaneously arises.

Only Tao is authentic spontaneous non-doing. Our short-cut efforts of non-doing are from the ego. It is the ego artificially “acting” like the non-doing Tao.

You have heard it said, “practice non-doing”, but I say, “practice doing”, then the non-doing-Tao-expression, from the effortless fanning of Alex, will appear. When this occurs, you are sitting under the Bodhi tree with the Buddha.

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.

Journey To The Center Of Our Ego, Part 4

Shawn Tedrow

Oops! I forgot. Before we turn one page, wait a minute; anyone that dare takes this journey, do so at your own risk and expense. There is a qualifying cost to this endeavor.

We must engage ourselves in spiritual enantiodromia that Henri Ellenberger spoke of. Enantiodromia was coined by Carl Jung, meaning the superabundance of any force inevitably produces its opposite. The quality of this enantiodromia-force is an overabundance that is more than what is appropriate. Professor Lidenbrock, the main character in A Journey to the Center of the Earth, had this enantiodromia running through his body, soul, and spirit. Look to him, in the book, as an example of this required cost.

This takes a real gutsy, crazy-like commitment. Some may accuse you of chasing your own tail, and engaging in insensible non-Taoish behavior. Would I dare to suggest that we need to put assiduous courageous effort into our spiritual walk in order to realize results? Tao forbid!

This enantiodromia-effort that is required of us will inevitably produce its opposite. It is equivalent to the principal of equilibrium in the natural world, in that any extreme is opposed by the system in order to restore balance. Enantiodromia often foreshadows a rebirth of the personality.

Towards the end of this book, after enduring a life threatening raging ocean storm, then being thrown and cast up on a shore to safety, Professor Lidenbrock and his nephew Axel, realized their compass was behaving strangely. They realized that the needle of the compass was pointing the wrong way after being struck by an electric fireball that nearly destroyed the wooden raft.

The author, Michael Washburn, speaks about a condition in which the two poles of the psyche finally become a true two-in-one. It is a condition in which ego functions and nonegoic potentials, at last function harmoniously (from the book, The Ego and the Dynamic Ground). This is when the ego’s deep rooted psychological chains, and its self constructed independence, deconstructs, and integrates into accord with Tao.

Some call this ego-death. I am not in that campground of thinking. I personally believe that the ego doesn’t die, but continues on and mysteriously merges into harmony with the magnificent wonders of the Tao. I am not saying that it doesn’t seem like the ego has died. Verne’s story explains that the electric fireball “nearly destroyed” the wooden raft. In other words, the raft still existed after the storm.

I call this raging ocean storm of adversity that the Professor and Axel went through, “the dark night of the ego”. This is when the ego is stretched to its limits, and its terrifying emptiness is woefully seen.

Thomas Merton, the famous author, Trappist monk, mystic, and teacher of Taoism, spoke about the mental and emotional undercurrent that develops in such a storm, when he said, “Dread means that we cannot any longer hope in ourselves, in our wisdom, our virtue, and our fidelity. We see too clearly that all that is ‘ours’ is nothing and can completely fail us.”

This is when the mind is hanging onto very shaky ground and experiencing extreme vulnerability. It is at this horrific time when we become a conduit of receptivity.

This dread that Thomas Merton speaks of is when the ego submerges into darkness, like the sun setting into the horizon of a torrential storm, and then within time, it miraculously ascends to the dawning of a new day.

Please note; the electric fireball that struck their raft, or ball lightening, as it is scientifically termed, is an unexplained atmospheric electrical phenomenon. Scientific data on natural ball lightning are scarce owing to its infrequency and unpredictability. Given inconsistencies and the lack of reliable data, the true nature of ball lightning is still unknown presumption as its existence is based only on reported public sighting.

Besides being passionate about the subject of radical spiritual metamorphism, I also can’t help but emphatically sense, that there is a law of physics, mirrored in the realm of the spirit. I call this “The Law of the Spirit of Life”. Please don’t misconstrue the word law here. It is not meant to be a law in the sense of a command. It is meant to convey that there is a consistent nature to the energy of Tao, similar to the laws of physics.

Now that I let all of that out of the closet, let’s continue on exploring into just the beginning of this book, and check out a few snippets of thoughts, as we continue on with “The Journey to the Center of Our Ego”.

See you in about one week, again......

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.

Journey To The Center Of Our Ego, Part 3

Shawn Tedrow

“Descend, bold traveler, into the crater of Sneafellsjokull, which the shadow of Scartaris touches before the Kalends of July, you will attain the centre of the earth, which I have done. Arne Saknussemm.”

Some of you might have picked up on, that the above writing is from the famous novel, A Journey to the Center of the Earth, written by Jules Verne.

Reading further into the background of this challenging call to descend into the center of the earth, it is no coincidence to find that Jules Verne mentions that Arne Saknussemm was an alchemist. Not only does he mention this, he goes out of his way to give kudos to the alchemists.

After Professor Lidenbrock realized Saknussemm wrote this, he said, "Arne Saknussemm! Why that is the name of another Icelander, a savant of the sixteenth century, a celebrated alchemist. Those alchemists, Avicenna, Bacon, Lully, Paracelsus, were the real and only savants of their time. They made discoveries at which we are astonished”.

No, this wasn’t just trivial, inconsequential, without intent writing, when Jules Verne went out of his way to pencil-in, with such enthusiastic homage, that Arne Saknussemm was an alchemist. He was giving a hint to the hidden meaning of what the story, A Journey to the Center of the Earth, was really about, underneath the surface of the outer expression of this novel.

It is no secret regarding Jules Verne’s love for cryptology. Cryptology is derived from the Greek word “krptos logos”, meaning “hidden word”. This whole novel is echoing hidden messages and analogies pointing in the direction of alchemy.

The alchemists have a long history throughout time, way too much for me to get into right now. I would like to though, extract and identify something that is in-common with the many perennial alchemist movements. A definition of alchemy is an inexplicable or mysterious transmuting from one thing to another.

This interest and desire of alchemy is embedded in the nature of each human being. How we humans respond to this instinctive unconscious driving force within, is perplexing. This aspiration for alchemy is most of the time circumvented, by trying to meet its ingrained longing, through misguided ideas and misconceptions. The list is many.

Some philosophies even try to subdue and suppress this innate spiritual evolutionary movement within us, by writing-off its energy, as being an egoic duality cosmic joke. I mean, why desire transformational change? According to new age Advaita School of extreme-thought, you are what you seek. All else is an illusion. Just accept this reality and experience “instant enlightenment”. Aren’t we all so enlightened by this wisdom?

I wouldn’t consider myself an alchemist in the traditional sense, but I am passionate about the subject of radical spiritual transformation, an experience, or multiple experiences, which leads to an internal alchemy of extraordinary change.

Such amazing spiritual metaphors can be discovered throughout this epic story written by Jules Verne. Recently, while doing a little research on this novel related to writing this post, I discovered that I am not the first to realize that this famous story has hidden meanings and spiritual application.

Henri Ellenberger (1905-1993) once mentioned, “The book could be interpreted in all its details as a journey through the unconscious, with discovery of deeper and deeper archetypes, until the encounter of a fireball sets about the enantiodromia that is the reversal of regression, and the return to the common world”.

Wow! I can’t agree more with Henri Ellenberger that this book can be interpreted in all its details, as man's journey into himself, probing deeper and deeper, until it leads to alchemy.

I wish I could have found more about what Henri Ellenberger saw into this book besides this one statement, but if I did, I would maybe miss out on my own discoveries, as I read and ponder on my own.

In fact, I am one that thinks that veiled revelations of spiritual passageways can be discovered in many secular writings. These spiritual sign post and accesses to portals of illumination, found in numerous non-spiritual books are so apparent, that many times I find myself scratching my head in complete amazement and awe, with joy overflowing in my heart, because of sensing such alive, esoteric wonder.

The spiritual path is not a walk on pavement that is composed of dead and dried up bones. There is liveliness to the path. It breathes, has pulse, and speaks. The path’s journey is rich with hidden treasures waiting to uncover. We each have an opportunity to open up and interact with life’s unseen vastness of vivacious mystery. Just like how William Morales discovered the Che Chem Ha Cave, we need to push aside the bush of doubt, and marvel at the wonders that were always there.

The one thing I like about discovering spiritual metaphors in secular writings is that it is the reader that is doing the active-unveiling of spiritual application, instead of the reader/student being hand-feed spiritual truths that are absorbed into the linear left side of the brain.

I know a teacher that had a student whom had been involved with Taoism and Zen for over thirty years but was found wanting. She had read and studied countless spiritual books and understood every spiritual concept that you could imagine, but came to realize that she was really just spinning her wheels.

This teacher asked her to give up what she was doing, and just watch movies, go to plays, read non-spiritual books, and develop her own authentic spiritual discoveries. What’s real sad is that she knew he was right, but couldn’t do that simple instruction he had offered her. She kept on doing what she was doing. I think Einstein called that insanity.

When a student begins to break through to the other side from intellectual spiritual knowledge, and develop their own spiritual life of discovery, a gushing well of flowing water that never ends has been discovered.

Let’s do a little rock-uncovering, of this well underneath our feet, into some of the details found in just the beginning chapters of this famous novel, and continue our exploration of self-discovery into a, “Journey to the Center of Our Ego”.

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.

Journey To The Center Of Our Ego, Part 2

Shawn Tedrow

On the last day of our vacation, Jenny and I winged it, and decided to take a different route than the typical traditional tourist attraction. We decided to explore an ancient Mayan cave that was off the beaten track, called Che Chem Ha Cave.

This cave was discovered in 1989 by a sixteen year old boy by the name of William Morales. One day William was on his family farm harvesting bay leaf palms, used in thatched roofing, when his dog began chasing a rodent, called a gibnut, and suddenly disappeared into a hillside covered by bushes. William went to where his dog had vanished, pushed aside the bushes, and discovered a cave. After shouting to his dog, and getting him to return, he went back to his house and told his parents what he discovered.

The next day he went back with flashlights and entered into the cave. Within fifteen meters of entering into this narrow passageway, it opened up wide and high, and he discovered a cave system containing precious pottery relics left behind by Mayan ancestors.

Years of exploration ended up place in this cavern with the support of many archeologists from universities and organizations. The cave had nine levels to it and went about 240 meters deep, with numerous sacred Mayan ceremonial sites being discovered. Having nine naturally created levels exhibited significant wonders to this cave, as the number nine had deep religious meaning to the ancient Mayans. Hundreds of years of Mayan history were discovered as they explored deeper and deeper into this cave.

Because this was found on private land, the cave remained the property of William Morales' family. William's life was completely changed because of his dog’s passionate zeal to catch that gibnut. He dedicated his life to studying the Mayan culture and became a tour guide to many historical places for about ten years. He eventually ended up coming back home where he now does private guides at this cave that he and his dog found on his family's farm.

The way William Morales found this cave reminded me how Alice in Wonderland stumbled across her life changing adventure, following a rabbit that lead to a hole she fell in. Yes, William Morales’ life was completely transformed because of this finding.

When we arrived at the Morales family farm, we were greeted by William, with a big grin on his face. We were an hour early but he asked, with such enthusiasm, "Are you ready to go?" He then grabbed his machete, and hats, with flashlights mounted on them, and off we were, on an uphill trek along a jungle trail that was cluttered with roots and rocks, that were quite slippery from the humidity. After about forty-five minutes of huffing and puffing up this jungle trail, we finally arrived at the cave.

With a pause for about a ten minute rest, we then commenced going into this cave, what the Mayans called the underworld. This underworld is where the Mayans communed with their ancestors and gods. All of the ancient sacramental pottery that we observed in the cave was not touched or moved from their original positioning when found in 1989. This Chechem Ha Cave adventure was surely the highlight of our entire vacation.

After about thirty minutes of going through different levels of the cavern, and viewing many sacred Mayan sites, we finally reached the end of the cave, at the ninth level. There at the floor was a large four foot high ceremonial stone with rocks circling it. There was a crude carved etching of a woman on the cave wall just behind this sacred stone alter. To the right of this carving of the woman, about eight feet up the wall, was a concaved ledge. William explained to us that the Mayans used to have a torch and incense burning at this ledge during their religious ceremonies.

William then told us all to turn off our flashlights, and it became heart-throbbing pitch black. He then reached up towards the ledge, where the Mayans used to have a torch burning, and lit a flame there. This small flame that William lit flooded illuminating light throughout the chamber of the cavern we were in. William then pointed to the wall on the left side of the etched woman, the opposite side from the ledge where he was holding the flame, and behold, there was a shadow cast from the carved woman on the wall. This shadow though, had magnificently transformed from the original carved image of the woman, into a completely different figure of another woman. The etched woman looked earthly crude, and unfinished, while its shadow appeared as a female spirit-god. It was crystal clear to me then, that this transformation from one woman’s image to another was what the Mayans use to observe and meditate on during their sacrificial ceremonies at this ninth level in the cave.

It is very difficult to explain what happened to me at that very moment. While sensing how dauntingly deep we were into the guts of this mountainside, and observing this awe mystifying transformation taking place, eerie quivers of resonating thoughts went up and down my spine that were vibrating back and forth off the two images of these women, and the title of the famous novel and post that had been in the back of my mind. I don’t believe in a personal God, but damn, this whole Che Chem Ha Cave random excursion we went on sure felt like a setup related to this emerging post I was trying to ignore.

Sometimes I feel like I need a coconut to fall on my head in order for me to realize that I am under a coconut tree.

I was finally persuaded that I should take a chance, and start writing. Sometimes I just need to cave into the situation, so to speak, and go with the flow, even though I don’t know what the hell I am doing.

Okay, I guess I’ll have to get to work and continue on writing this new RT post that just wouldn’t leave me alone.

I’ll see you in about one week

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.

Journey To The Center Of Our Ego, Part 1

Shawn Tedrow

I recently went on a vacation to Belize and Guatemala. A couple days before Jenny and I left the USA on this excursion, a title for a new RT post came to my mind that paralleled and interfaced with a famous novel. I wasn't in the mood to write though, as my personal agenda for this vacation was to let go of doing anything related to spiritual content.

I was planning on doing a mental fast to get a fresh new perspective on life. I didn’t want to write. I desired to posture my inner heart into being a good listener of life, with my ears being uncluttered from my inclined conceptions. I figured if I got into writing an essay, I wouldn’t be in a suitable listening mode. I wonder though, if sometimes while transcribing thoughts into words, that we actually are engaging ourselves in being an active listener?

This new post wouldn't leave me alone. Besides not leaving me alone, this emerging observation looked like it was going to be a lot of work for me. That was the opposite of what I wanted. I basically had the story of a novel, a title for the post, and involuntary disjointed thoughts flying in every direction.

This unintended sprouting thesis had many deep subject matters, and it was in need of me to toil in earnest thinking, in order for it to be organized and structured to make any sense. This was going to be a very difficult task for me, and without having a clue what to write, I resisted and fought getting into it. It kept rising to my mind though. These uninvited streams of thoughts just wouldn’t leave me alone.

In one sense, these rising thoughts were rather obnoxious, as I just wasn’t in the mood for it. In another sense, I felt like I was being enticed by a luring potion, to go into a mysterious dream-like portal of a river of imaginative inspiration. It was as if I was unconsciously hearing subliminal music, and I would find myself moving to its rhythmic pulse, in the form of ascending thoughts that were dancing to its drumbeat.

Writing can be an interesting journey, where it can feel like you are not the one initiating it, but some kind of inspirational wind is blowing on the sails of thought, navigating you to a place that was not planned.

This gentle, but relentless, seducing-like sensation, to start writing this post, seemed borderline crazy, as if I might be losing my mind. I didn’t tell Jenny about what I was going through because it might appear that I was going nuts.

The chance that this was indeed madness became a little bit of a challenge for me. If I surrendered into this enchantment, and nothing came of it, I would be very concerned for myself that I might be at the beginning stages of auditory hallucinations. I wasn’t given any comfort concerning this apprehension of mine, as it felt like taking a chance was the cost that was required of me to go into this mysterious gateway. It was as if I was being asked let go of myself, by relinquishing my guards, from completely going off the deep end, by trusting that engaging in these mysterious formation of thoughts didn’t mean I was flirting with insanity. But it might!

I continued on to barricade myself from this continual bombardment of thoughts until the very last day of our vacation. On that day, something very unusual took place.

To be continued……

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.

Guest Post - The Tao Is Surfing

Malik Aswad
Blogging at God Loves Gravity

I have recently moved to Hawaii and have taken up bodyboarding (boogie boarding). With bodyboarding, surfing, or any other wave-riding water sport, it is difficult to describe the feeling you get when you catch the wave. As with so many other things in life, it's a feeling you have to experience yourself, but I will attempt to provide you with the best description I can.

As you start paddling out from the beach, the water is already somewhat restless. Wave set upon wave set lifting your board up and smacking you back down in the water, you find out quickly that reaching your ideal location to catch a wave does not come easy. You have to endure the disorienting waves. Sometimes they are so big that all you can do is try to dive underwater before they reach you. You see other surfers, bodyboarders, and stand-up paddleboarders paddling behind you one minute, and, in the next second, it seems like they're ten feet ahead of you. You think to yourself, "I feel stupid," but then you realize that it doesn't really matter what those people are doing. They are all on their own quest to catch the wave. Besides, you just started bodyboarding a month ago.

As you paddle out, the waves start becoming bigger, and you end up struggling to keep yourself balanced on the board and try to keep moving forward. You ask yourself if it's worth it trying to go on. You know the waves are breaking really great further out beyond the spot you are currently in, but you contemplate simply staying in your present spot and waiting for a mediocre wave to come to you.

But then you look out and see the best wave you have seen thus far. It is breaking straight, high, and clean. You know that that is the spot to catch the wave. You muster up all your strength and ambition, dig your hands in the water, kick your feet, and head for the wave. It is still far from you, but you can see it. As you swim for it, time and distance become irrelevant. The struggle becomes a delight. You find solace and peace in it. It is no longer a struggle, for it seems so easy to swim to that spot where the wave is breaking once you make the journey toward it. It becomes your pleasure as you fight through the pain.

In what seems like no time at all, you have reached the breaking spot. You wait. You see other people waiting further out in every direction you look. You find yourself in calm waters, but you know what's coming. You look around in awe as you think to yourself, "I made it this far. I can do this." You feel your body lift as a wave approaches you, but that was just a tease. You feel several more tease waves. Your angst borders on impatience but you know that this is where you want to be, and you know that the wave will come to you, so you simply enjoy the sounds of the ocean as you rest in the clear waters.

Then, suddenly, just as you are enjoying the serenity and beauty of the blue ocean water, you spot a wave breaking about ten feet in front of you. Adrenaline pumping, you turn your board around and begin to paddle to shore. You can feel the wave's power approaching you and hear the rush of water behind you. You begin to paddle faster. You hear the wave getting closer and closer, but you do not look back because you know that if you do, you will only slow yourself down and lose focus from the task at hand. You feel the wave lifting you up as you paddle your feet with all you've got. You feel yourself moving faster, but you have not paddled faster. In fact, you have stopped paddling altogether. At this point, you feel the wave pushing you forward. All of a sudden, you feel as though you are flying on the water. You are rushing toward the sandy beach, but you are still far from it. After all, you did so much paddling to reach your ideal spot.

As the wave pushes you, you find there is little you can do to stop it. Even as you relax your muscles a little and adjust your weight, the force of nature's powerful ocean waves blows you across the water as though you were a human jet-ski. But you have done it. You have caught the wave. You begin whooping ecstatically, experiencing a joy like you've never felt before. All of the hard work, the failed attempts at catching the waves, the teases, and the loss of spirit, all of that has lead you to this. And, as you look around you, all you can see is the wave. It's behind you, it's to your left, it's to your right, it's underneath you, and, as you look forward, you see the beach from which you first took off, but you return with the experience and knowledge of catching this wave.

You have felt what it is like to ride the wave, and you know it is a feeling you want to have over and over again. As you think about all of this, you are only about five feet from the shore before the wave dies out. You slow down and eventually paddle for the beach. The water gets shallow and you hop off your board, flippers hitting the sand and reef, still submerged in the water. You reach a point far enough from where the water reaches the sand and recedes back into the ocean and sit down, staring out into the sea of waves in the distance. You are happy. You have felt the joy so many surfers talk about. You prepare yourself to go back into the water. "And this time," you say to yourself, "I'm not getting out."

This is the best explanation I have. Like feeling the Tao, the feeling of catching the wave is indescribable. All you know is that it is a feeling you have never quite had before. When you see the Tao in everything, and everything in the Tao, you feel at peace, even when faced with rushing ocean water closing in on you. When you set upon a spiritual journey, you don't know exactly what to look for or expect. But when you see that wave and catch it, you know exactly why riding the waves is so popular.

I recommend you try it out yourself. Peace.

~

About Malik: I'm 21 years old, and I've been on this spiritual journey of mine since age 11. I like to study all traditions from Hinduism to Hermeticism because I believe they all point to the same One Truth.

Guest posts are welcomed at The Rambling Taoists. If you'd like to submit something, send it here.

Guest Post: Nature Versus Spirituality

Brandon
Blogging at Notes From the Outside

I've long noticed that the only time I have no inclination to read (something I do, if I must be honest, as much for escape as for knowledge or general entertainment) is when I'm in a natural setting, the forest, the mountains, even by the sea, if I can get away from the crowds. Being away from books (and blogs/the internet) generally takes me away from the world of thought, the interplay and exchange of ideas. Not that I'm not thinking at all out there, but since that's not the point of my excursions, the thoughts are more of a passing thing than something I dwell upon. Thus, I have less tendency to write.

One thing I've realized lately, as a result of all the woods-walking I've been doing, is that I'm beginning to feel like all the talk I do about Eastern religions, and spirituality in general, is a load of shit. Not the religions themselves, of course, but my take on them: it's like I'm trying to be someone I'm not. I'm not really into meditation, but I feel like I should be and so I occasionally do it, at times in consistent streaks, but usually not. I'm interested in the religions on an intellectual level, but I'm not the spiritual type and never have been.

While I believe there is much about the world I don't know or understand, and am fully open to your more spiritual notions, when it comes right down to it, I don't experience life on that level. Like, the notions about the Tao, yin and yang, are fascinating, but rather than think about them, I tend to be impatient to embody them somehow. This is probably why I wrote once about how I realized, while in the middle of climbing a mountain, that I really was an atheist (of sorts).

I'm not sure I'd say I'm a practical person, even though I'm currently working in the building trades. Little of what I do at work comes natural to me, though I'm not terrible at it -- it's just not intuitive for me, and I end up asking a lot of stupid questions. I wouldn't say I'm athletic either, as I've never taken part in organized sports; though I sometimes think I might have, had my heart been healthier and I had better endurance; probably not team sports, but maybe track or something. I think in some ways I was talked out of athleticism, talked myself out of it, even. Still, it hasn't stopped me in my adulthood from a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail, an attempt at the Pacific Crest Trail, and in general physical work and the active outdoors life. The point is, in personality, I lean more towards the practical and physical than I do towards spirituality and the more intuitive side of things.

It's sort of like a masculine/feminine split. Well, we don't have to drag gender issues into it, because it's not clear cut like that in real life. Maybe it would be better to speak of left/right brain issues... though that is also an oversimplified view. Perhaps yin and yang is the best way to think about it. Point is, I tend towards masculine, left brain, yang, intellectual, rational, active, physical, rather than the feminine, right-brain, yin, intuitive, spiritual, emotional, artsy, touchy-feely. Which isn't to say I fall only one one side, few people would; but that's where my tendencies are. I have to work for the other side.

But as I've been walking around in the woods more and more lately (now that the dry season is here for southwest Florida and they aren't flooded shin-deep anymore), I'm realizing that I've almost never had any kind of spiritual experience while meditating or pondering spiritual matters. I've been deeply impressed by the ideas presented... but the only time I feel truly peaceful, connected, present and awake is when I'm on nature walks. I don't discount the meditation, and I said I've almost never had a spiritual experience that way; there have been brief moments. But nothing sustained or reliable, not like while I'm wandering the woods and mountains.

And I don't so much mean while hiking -- which after a while does bring one in tune with nature, but overall is often more about making miles, grand vistas, camaraderie with fellow hikers, and the pleasure of physical exertion. No, I mean while out walking slowly or even standing still for long periods, meandering off-trail through the forest following deer or pig trails, attempting to observe wildlife, practicing tracking skills and being attentive and attuned through hearing and what I, following Tom Brown Jr, call splatter vision.

That is, softening the gaze to incorporate peripheral vision, which helps you spot movement as well as to see the whole picture, instead of focusing on a tiny part. Doing the latter is why most people go into the woods and never see anything. I read once that according to Don Juan (via Carlos Castenada), this mode of seeing is the only path to inner peace; I assume that means applying the "splatter" mode not only to vision but one's entire being.

Nature helps me put aside the intellectualization like I never can while sitting cross legged on the floor. This is absolutely reliable. Within a very short period of being out there, I'm already calming down and tuning in. It's literally like going home, it's where I feel most comfortable and able to be myself, it's like switching into another mode of being. I don't know if this is because this "feminine" world of Nature quiets the "masculine" or yang side of me, or brings it to fruit; Nature being a place where it is practical to be quiet, inside and out. It's like a fork in the road, but in the sense of two roads meeting, not splitting. The right and left brain, yin and yang, come together in a harmony, and the inner merges with the outer.

Guest posts are welcomed at The Rambling Taoists. If you'd like to submit something, send it here.

Shall We Dance?

Shawn Tedrow

We work with being, but non-being is what we use.
Tao Te Ching, chapter 11

Does the realization of non-being negate, being? Lao Tzu, a proponent of non-being, says it doesn't negate, but rather we still work and live with being.

Absolute reality does not cancel out relative reality.

The realization of no-self doesn't eliminate our “self”- living. It brings balance and harmony to it.

We spontaneously utilize the consciousness of the realization of non-being, while working with being.

We surrender into non-being, and that is expressed, in being.

Can the flute be heard without the blowing of wind sensed?
Non-being and being, dancing together, freely and unfenced.

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.

My Tao

Baroness Radon

I've been contemplating a New Year's resolution, to go eremetic, to stop ruminating, to stop reading, to stop Facebooking, YouTube-ing, blogging, forum-ing, basically, turning inward to paint and play music, drink tea (and a little Nigori) and contemplate clouds and rainbows from my lanai, with some qigong and meditation thrown in at appropriate times. A simple, quiet lay-Taoist lifestyle. I was even ready to ask Trey to take me off the masthead here, saying "So long and thanks for all the fish."

Part of this is due to too much participation, too much red dust and noise, even though much of it has been Tao-talk-related. Pose a simple question, raise a simple point, and you get arguments, sanctimony, tutelage and weird flavors of Tao (Advaita Tao, Zen Tao, socio-political Tao, quantum physics Tao, self-transformation Tao, self-negation Tao, TCM Tao, environmental, cultural, esoteric, orthodox, hippie, new-age Taos...it goes on and on.)

In just the past week, not just on The Rambling Taoists, but in other forums, there have been deep and sometimes disturbing discussions and postings -- some of which leave me feeling like I'm the receptionist in the waiting room of a mental health clinic -- about guilt, free will, karma, text translation and exegesis, authenticity of practice, Chinese vs. western, ancient vs. modern, Lao Tzu vs. Jesus. All of which suggests to me that the real truth in Taoism is the contradiction and paradoxes it allows. So many Taoisms, so many Taoists. (But just one Tao.)

Particularly perturbing to me is a notion expressed by Ta-Wan, that "We are little else than a sensitive spot in the universe." Even if this is the case -- which I'm not sure it is -- why would you want to believe it? Why would you want to act as if that is true? That we are no more than trigger hairs on a Venus fly trap, the responsive leaves of a mimosa tree? This is a genuine question, not rhetorical astonishment. Even with quoting the masters (who are in fact, just some guys, like us, with something probably lost in translation), or with reference to direct experience (to which another cannot be a party), I cannot sign on that dotted line; it leaves too much out.

We are more than amoeba…we are self-aware energy beings.
We are particle and wave.
We are matter and energy.
We are here, in space.
We are now, in eternity.
We are body, mind, and spirit.
We are human beings, feet on earth, head in heaven.
We are sentient and knowing.
We are cause and effect.
We think and feel.
We are the freedom in a deterministic universe.
We are poems that “be” and stories that “mean.”
We are science and religion.
We are technology and art.
We are certain in our uncertainty; uncertain in our certainty.
We are born and die against our will, but while living, we exercise and express will.

This I believe, and this I act.

You can check out other musings from the Baroness here.

Do What You Fear To Do

Shawn Tedrow

Our historical experiences formed our identity-personality. Past emotional encounters of yesterday are why we respond to life the way we do today. Our reactions today seem new, but they are from the old, still living today.

If we are offended today, it is because of yesterday's wounds being revisited. If we have a fear of intimacy, and our life is lived as such, it is because we have a fear of betrayal and rejection, appearing to us once again. Our phantom past dictates our thinking and living today.

When the world around us touches our ancient wounds, laying blame and pushing away the world from us, it spins this seemingly endless, egoic-wheel. It just adds fuel to this hellish wheel of fire. It is like throwing fire into fire. Instead, we must allow ourselves to become vulnerable and exposed to the possibility of anything.

Meditative contemplation is not enough. Freedom doesn't come through touching our thoughts with a soothing Tao feather. Go to where the rubber of this egoic-wheel meets the road, where life is lived. That place where the heat of friction can be sensed, that place we painstakingly avoid. This is called practice.

If you fear intimacy, open yourself up to potential betrayal and rejection. Do what you fear to do.

Do not let fear continually spin this wheel. Submission to the dictations of fear is the life-blood of ego’s appearance of permanence.

There are two doors with signs on them. One door says “The Commands of Fear”. The other says, “Mystery”.

How do we unlock this door of mystery?

Stop taking fear's commands to turn left or right. Don’t surrender into the door of "The Commands of Fear", where boundaries have been unconsciously weaved, that we mistakenly call living. Instead, surrender into doing what you fear to do, and spin off, and away from this phantom wheel into the door of mystery.

~~

Disclaimer: I am not suggesting that you do this practice with all fears. There are natural fears of wisdom, like a fly has when it dodges a flyswatter. There are also unnatural conditioned fears.

A special thanks to Hakuin Ekaku, 1686-1769, whose motto was, “meditation in the midst of activity is a thousand times superior to meditation stillness”. Hakuin’s teaching was in opposition to what he called, “Do-nothing Zen”, teachers. These teachers taught that by simply emptying the mind would lead to enlightenment and also instructed that peaceful emptiness IS enlightenment.

Hakuin urged his students never to be satisfied with shallow attainments, and truly believed that enlightenment was possible for anyone if they “exerted themselves” and approached their practice with real energy. I am sure that the spirit of this type of teaching would not be very popular in today’s fast- food spiritual marketplace.

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.

A Christmas Carol, Part 2

Shawn Tedrow
[Note: If you missed it, go here to check out Part 1]

You must understand, Robert Bannert was a bit different than the rest of us neighborhood kids. He lived with his grandmother because it was rumored that both his parents were drug addicts. All the parents in the neighborhood had warned their children not to hang out with him, but my parents were okay with it.

I really liked Bobby and always had a blast playing with him. Eventually my friends peer pressured me into stop playing with Bobby. I wouldn’t be a cool guy if I played with him anymore, so I abruptly and cold-heartedly stopped hanging out with him.

Now Bobby was standing right in front of me at this random restaurant that we went to in this small town in California, telling me that I broke his heart. Later, the words of Einstein came to mind when he said; “Coincidence is God’s way of remaining unanimous”. And Carl Jung’s words also surfaced, “When an inner situation is not made conscious, it appears outside as fate.”

I was mysteriously launched back in time seeing through the eyes of my childhood. What was startling to me was I could clearly see the beginning formation of my personality being developed, as I left my innocence to take on another role. We were all innocent back then, taking on defensive roles that eventually ended up becoming who we are today. I could see the roots and beginnings of my personality and the path that led to whom I had become.

My personality had become a conditioned survival structure that was unconsciously in a defense mode, and in control of my life. It was as if I was seeing my personality from an exterior view of understanding and awareness. This out-of-self view of self, unfolding-experience, left me tongue-tied. I can talk about it now, but not then.

Later, Jenny and I drove back to our home in San Francisco. On our way back, while driving, I couldn’t shake off what I was seeing, as my life appeared to have shifted to another field in time or maybe no-time. It seemed like the earth had stopped, and an observatory of consciousness and awareness surrounded to me.

We all lost our innocence back then as we tried to defend ourselves and adapt to the world around us. We were stainless children being stained upon. I thought; “If there is only a way to get back to the innocence of the womb of the Garden of Eden”.

As we drove back home, tears were flowing down from my saddened eyes that were seeing these deep hidden sheltered and shielded understandings of myself and the present state of human beings. Layers and layers of walls of unconscious protection I was living in that was preventing me from seeing this were shattered asunder, through the voice of Bobby, at this restaurant in this small town in California.

I have mentioned before about spiritual momentum. When spiritual momentum takes over, these types of coincidental happenings may happen. This is what I define as spiritual physics. I had been very focused on the teaching of Tao and Zen for a couple of years which seemed to accelerate this energetics.

P.S. I did get Bobby’s phone number and called him up one day to catch up on things.

You can check out Shawn's other musings here.