Xenofact

The Two That Are None

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In the Taoist-based meditations I do I’ve begun to note an interesting thing about duality and voidness. I’m going to do my best to communicate it, albeit I may sound incoherent or just plain high. Which might be the best way to communicate it, but tolerate me.

So I’ve noticed a lot of dualism or “multiplicative dualism” in various Taoist writings. One reconciles Fire and Water, or uses Sense together with Energy, and so on. Sometimes there’s “dual dualism” like Sense and Energy and Conscious and Real Knowledge. A lot of practices are about combining these elements or reconciling them – and of course the classic Yin and Yang are used among all of these various dualities.

(Sometimes it goes farther like the Tripartate Vitality, Energy Spirit, but stick with me here).

In my Secret of the Golden Flower breathwork I’m working on refining breath and mind, the mind evening and slowing the breath, and the breath being a resting place of the mind. Breath and Mind are another duality and, yes that gets tied to other dualities, which happens in Taoism a lot.

Now in doing that breathwork I’ve found that the refining mind and resting breath are not just best done together, they’re best being done “equally.” You don’t focus more on quality of breath or the resting of the mind, you’re doing both at once, both with equal measure except the occasional course correction

Now if you’ve done any kind of meditation you know those moments where you get clarity, where your perspectives shift, where there’s less you and more reality. I find that the refined breath-and-mind at once are where that starts to happen. You’re doing two things at once, but they’re also one thing, and yet also there’s something about you lighter and emptier.

And yes, as per my respect for Taoism, I’m not going to talk it overmuch since thats when you screw it up (and I’m not that good at communicating it in symbols yet).

I think there’s something about having “two things at once” in meditative practice – two things to do together, two elements to contemplate, and so on – that helps you actually get beyond your mundane self. You get to zero starting with two, but it’s hard to get there from one.

My opinion is that in meditative practices and the symbols used for them, that if we have just one definite symbol or activity or concept, there’s a risk we identify it The self will cling to any one thing as a way to anchor itself. But when your concepts or meditative practices have a duality, it’s hard for the self to settle anywhere – and as you practice, the mundane self becomes thinner as a deeper self becomes apparent.

Is this the only way to do things? Obviously not. There’s focusing exercises, forms of deliberate overload, or round-robin type mental exercises that aren’t dualistic. But I think it’s a useful insight to understand some techniques.

Sometimes you get somewhere from two places.

(I don’t think I over-described, but I’m going to have to start working on how to communicate but not over-communicate more profound experiences).

-Xenofact

They’re Not Gods

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I was walking near the ocean recently, and just in awe of the power in front of me. There on the coast, water stretching to the horizon, I felt what men had felt since they first looked out upon it: awe. It was beautiful, powerful, otherworldly. That’s the moment you understand gods and how people relate to them.

The power runs deep, and you give it a name to talk to it.

This led me, sadly, to less theistic pursuits as I contemplated the men who would act as gods. Titans of industry, dictators, Influencers, and the like. People high on power who act as if they are geniuses, are divinely touched, as if they can steer the world. But they’re not gods, not at all.

They don’t love their element, their domain. Do they delight in the play of clouds as a sky-god would or feel desert winds in their blood? Are the creatures of their territory something they protect, bringing curses on the disrespectful? Do they adore something so much they are it?

No, they’re people who own, who want to hold it in their hand, but not care or respect, or be.

They don’t wield real power, there’s no divinity, or the mystic virtue, Te of the Tao Te Ching. They use existing systems and hacks and PR teams and the like. Many of them are people who, quite frankly, would be irritating to deal with, and only got lucky or had an inheritance. All seem small, desperately clinging to power, to the system they learned to manipulate, kowtowing easily.

There’s no power there. I can at least think of some scientists and businesspeople and philosophers who had a spark, a confidence, a power. These false gods don’t.

Can these aspiring godlings be actually loved, or appreciated beyond syncophanty and propaganda? They’re not anything. Gods at least are something, even if some are unpleasant. They have their spheres, their powers, their reality. The men who would be gods are in the end just faking it, and don’t care.

It’s all bottom lines and ego boosts. There’s nothing there. A god at least feels and is.

If anything a lot of our modern would-be gods feel like they’re aping the jealous god of the modern Christian, that old no-daddy. Jealous, manipulative, insecure, yanking people around, demanding obedience. The abusive father figure so many chose in place of Jesus and Christian mystics and the like.

They’re nod gods, and are all the more pathetic for their pretensions.

There on the Ocean I felt small, but these would be-gods were so much smaller.

There on the Ocean, I knew the joy of the Truly Large.

-Xenofact

Very Verb Indeed

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“I Seem to be a Verb”

– Title of a book by Buckminster Fuller.

We want to think of ourselves as solid things and are eternally thwarted. Yes, we age, but that’s the easy example of how we are processes. We learn, we grow, put on muscle, cut our hair, go through puberty, and so on. We are objects perhaps in the physical sense, but really we’re actions – often unconscious ones.

Just reading the above your mind changed and altered and responded and contemplated.

However, we strive to be objects in many ways. We like sameness, we like things to be sure, we like solidity. We are of course never successful, albeit temporarily, and part of maturity is understanding we are actions. To be something definitive is to maintain intentionally.

I’ve come to realize just how meditative processes help us understand that – but also how understanding that helps us meditate.

As I’ve gone on about near-endlessly my meditative practice was initially informed by The Secret of the Golden Flower. The book has a lovely, simple summary of meditation – refine the breath to be slow and even while the mind rests on breath. Yes there’s more – Taoists being excellent and warning of the limits of words then using a lot of them – but it’s a useful, simple summation that one can build on.

In my own practices of course I’ve found that it is both that simple and infinitely more complex. But one thing I recently realized in my meditations is that meditation is action. Yes you’re sitting there, but it’s active.

You are there breathing, ever tuning your breath. Your mind is resting on your breath, ever directed onto the breath. You do these things, you do them together, and you sit there. You are engaging in action when you meditate.

What’s interesting is that there’s nothing to have there, nothing to be. You’re ever-refining breath and mind, but there’s no object to hold to. Slower. More even. Mind ever on the depths of breathing. You’re there just acting (albeit in a very quiet manner).

There are many benefits, insights, and signs in meditation – and I am cautious when talking about them as past writers have wisely warned. But I am comfortable in saying that my meditations have, among many things, helped me see how we really are actions. Sitting there doing is going to bring insights on doing – and when you are an action those insights have effects.

Of course that’s an obvious insight, but there’s having it intellectually then going and experiencing it – which I strongly recommend. But we’re actions. We don’t seem to be verbs, we are verbs.

-Xenofact