And The Sadness Feels So Good

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In these hard and indeed stupid times, I’ve been asking more about myself, how to deal with it, who I am, how I grow. It’s required me to confront the fact that so much of our modern world is just so stupid and meaningless. In turn it has made me feel sad.

And know what? It’s a pretty good sadness.

As I contemplate and meditate in the chaos of mid-2025, I stared into the abyss as it were, and the abyss didn’t stare back because it was just sitting there drooling. I watched social media influencers being nothing and saying nothing for money. Politics was a cruel joke told by insecure men with neither humor nor humanity. Brilliant insights and technology were ignored or repurposed by businessmen with no grounding in being a person. Even things I enjoyed I questioned what use were they, what good was this game or this TV series?

It was all so dumb and it didn’t have to be this stupid. We knew better, which was worse, because we did this anyway.

After that the sadness settled upon me. It was a midnight-black shroud, not constricting, but impossible to ignore, a darkness of the soul. I felt sad for the state of the world and sad for the people, for all the stupidity, even our self-inflicted wounds. Maybe we deserved this but in so many ways we didn’t.

However this sadness was real. It was vital. It came out of the soul and my guts. It wasn’t offensive, it wasn’t an affront to my being, it came from me. It was, for all its misery, real in a raw way that felt vital and alive.

I may have felt unhappy, but it was so real that there was a joy in it, an honesty. It was no different than those meditations where you sit and breathe and every moment is so true that you and your awareness are one. You’re not feeling, you are the feeling.

Even if the feeling is bad, it’s real and true and you know it’s real and true. Sitting in my breath and sitting there sad were the same.

In spiritual practices, I’ve seen it mentioned that you’re not there to avoid unpleasantness – that’s part of the journey. Your meditations and contemplations aren’t climbing a mountain to some airy separate realm, but a climb downward into reality, even the painful parts. Trying to escape it all cuts off the world and cuts you away piece by piece, but you find realness when you deal with everything, including the sad parts.

So I felt joy in this sadness. I knew where I was, what I felt, who I was. By acknowledging it I could be real with myself, contemplate the feeling, understand it. It was all so beautifully, painfully true.

The funny thing is, is if so many of us weren’t busy trying to escape reality with so many distractions (some of which involve insecure men manipulating whole nations) we wouldn’t have so much sadness.

-Xenofact

Room For The Mystic

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I have a book on my reading pile that I really need to get to, Alchemists, Mediums, and Magicians: Stories of Taoist Mystics by Thomas Cleary. It a catalog of assorted Taoist eccentrics, mystics, artists, and so on. It’s strange that I haven’t rushed to read what is basically “character study of characters” but there you go.

I have poked around in it, delighting at some of the stories. It also made me think about other Taoist figures, from the legendary immortals to 18th century doctor and mystic Liu Yiming (who apparently predicted his own death). Taoism has a legion of artists, mystics, sorcerers and other impressive weirdos throughout its history.

I suppose it’s no surprise I feel at home among this cast.

This got me to think about how many of these tales are about people who wrote great treatises, explored mystical states, founded orders, created poetry, and are noteworthy centuries and aeons later. They did this without the internet, without social media, without megachurches – many of them seemed to oddly not care about fame but achieved it anyway.

Even more obscure figures may still appear in historical documents – or in the book like the one I mentioned.

As I write this in 2025 I think about how we’re pushed to monetize everything – and avoid things that don’t make us money. We’ve got example after example of spiritual grifters to tempt us to start monetizing videos. Why can’t we just be religious weirdos?

We also don’t really encourage people to really live their religion. Our own religious pursuits are “fine and good” but you know, don’t take it too far. If you’re gonna be weird at least be religiously obsessive in the right way.

Oh, and to be sure don’t be religious in a way that makes the world better. We’re fine with homophobia and war-mongering, but don’t you dare tell us to care about each other! And be sure you never denounce the system or anything!

We don’t really have place to just be some spiritual weirdo in American culture, and we need those.

We need the eccentrics who contemplate the strange and discuss it, and that’s fine. We need people who produce zines (ahem) to spread their thoughts obsessively. We need to have room culturally for someone dispensing wisdom fro their front porch. We need people who live their spiritual practices.

We need people whose mystical meanderings may lead us to something. Let society have it’s spiritual Skunkworks.

Besides, if we had more people really thinking about the Big Ideas, we’d have less cults and megachurches. If we accepted the idea of a spiritual quest as fine, acceptable, and laudable who knows what we might have. Especially if we don’t encourage people to make a buck first.

I suppose I’m doing my part. It makes me wonder what happens if more and more of we weirdos live sincerely and team up. It also makes me wonder if maybe I’ve got some inhibitions I’m best without . . .