Meditation

Threads and Validity

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Previously I’d written on ways people tried to claim spiritual authority – Ancient Tradition and/or Initiation – and the flaws of both. I’d mentioned a bit on how I validate spiritual teachings and advice, and wanted to share that next.

And considering I get into things like “did this 3000 year old sword hilt indicate breathing exercises” yeah, this kind of thing interests me. Well, I also like breathing exercises.

So as regular readers know, Taoism is a large part of my spiritual practice. Taoism has a convoluted history going back thousands of years, of which the famous Tao Te Ching is a major milestone, but not the only milestone. Taoism includes breath work, philosophy, psychological exercises, folk religion, I Ching commentaries, a sprawling collection of immortals, mystics, and weirdos, and more. It also includes what I call “Taoist Diss Tracks,” and trust me you have to see what kind of snark people who emphasize “doing by not doing” can get up to in order to appreciate it.

Note that Taoism isn’t particularly restrictive, and my spiritual practice includes many other elements. But I’ll just focus on Taoism for now.

The question is how I make sense from my Taoist readings and learn useful techniques and teachings? I mean there’s a lot so there has to be something there, but also there are also Taoists poetically accusing others of being weird perverts, so you gotta do some sorting.

The best way I’ve found to describe my methods are Threads and Validity.

When studying such a sprawling tradition, I look for Threads that endure throughout the various teachings. Is there something that persists between enough of the works I read and over a note able time period that represents A) a teaching with a history, and B) that is applicable and can be actioned.

Note that I say teaching with a history. This may mean a consistent practice, but also means a practice that you can see discussed, analyzed, and maybe even evolving. It may be argued about, it may be relatively unchanged, but you can look at it and say “yes, I can see what that is and why it is.”

Also, note it should be actionable. You can have some kind of consistent or evolved teaching but if you can’t do anything with it then it’s sort of hard to try out.

A few examples from my interest in Taoism:

  1. Breath exercises seem to go back very far in Taoism, predating the Tao Te Ching. Slow, even breath seemed to be a major part from the start.
  2. Post Tao Te Ching teachings that involve “spiritual alchemy” have some pretty consistent metaphors for mental elements and psychological effects of meditation – or at least the authors I have an interest in (which seem to come from the same school so not surprising).
  3. Political and social advice for Taoists seems pretty consistent, from avoidance of greed to a mistrust of intellectualism. There’s debates over implementing that, but the Tao Te Ching seemed to embody and promote some teachings that stayed relatively consistent for people who you know cared.

But all this aside, this history and ability to action things doesn’t matter if you can’t find some Validity in the spiritual works. You have to put them into action and see what happens.

And that’s where you have to get to work, try it out, and see if it works. Does the breath meditation seem to work for you? Do ethical teachings help you out (which requires a lot of self introspection)? Do you connect with this god or that?

Spiritual practices require you to actually dive in and try out what you’ve found. Which also requires you to ask what do you expect to happen, what are your goals? This is challenging, since the answer may be “to see what happens” – in fact in some meditative techniques that’s kind of half the goal. Sometimes having a goal actually messes things up, like forms of meditation, which makes it more a challenge.

Yes, I include ethical and social practices in this as well. Thinking about your ethical choices, how you act, and what happens really helps you grow. Even if sometimes it’s growing by confronting things about yourself and your society.

But it’s up to me to learn, to apply things, and see what happens. I take responsibility for what I’m doing so I can learn, put things into practice, and be better. My regular readers know there are some things I don’t comment on as I’m not sure I know enough to do so safely and effectively. You gotta dive in to learn.

So that’s how I validated spiritual teachings. I look for histories and consistencies that I can put into action then I give them a try. It also means putting in the work and taking the responsibility.

–Xenofact

Nurturing Not Grasping

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If you’ve done meditation consistently (and my guess is you have), you know that in time things happen. You have insights, you feel different, there’s something there. Oh sure you read about it, you hear about it, but then it happens. You’re a better person for your meditations and it’s kind of a shock.

I mean you kind of hoped for it, but then you’re different. It’s real, it’s not sayings and advice and poems and words. You feel different and the you that feels is different.

But the question is: what’s next? This is something I’ve read several times in my Taoist studies, and I wanted to share some thoughts and insights from my own meditations. I’ve had those moments of insights of “shifts” where you’re a little bit different and you know you’re on the path. There’s something in you that is different, it’s better, but then what?

You can’t seize these moments, these changes, and hold them. You can’t force them to happen, which I think is frustrating to many. If you’re a meditator I’m sure you’ve been here. I certainly have, where a very solid change falls apart when you grasp it.

First, a thing I find helpful to remember is that it’s the meditation that brings you here, those moments of mind resting on breath, the flow of energies, or what have you.. You can’t force these changes, can’t push them but you can keep up the practice that makes them possible. The positive changes you experience are due to the practice making them possible.

The changes you experience – “Signs” is what I’ve seen it called in my Taoist readings – are indicators you’re doing well in meditation. Keep going with the meditation.

But those moments of insight, of feeling better, of feeling aligned, of feeling there’s something in you that’s better? Another useful idea I’ve seen in Taoism is the idea of nurturing and guarding. Taoist writings talk about how one may experience a “seed,” have “the elixir,” develop a “spiritual embryo” and so on at various meditative stages. These are not things to be held or grasped, but guarded and nurtured.

Whatever positive changes (and whatever symbolism you might use for them) you want to nurture them. Not grasp, force, hold, but gently nurture. The exact nature of that may depend on your level of meditation and spiritual path, but it takes gentle work to maintain those “positives.”

I find these are usually a combination of things. Recognizing that you’ve experienced change due to meditation. Maintaining meditation. Understanding behaviors that support these positive changes – ethical and social cultivation.

You also want to avoid destroying these evolutions – guarding them.. This may again be making behavioral and social changes, dietary alterations, and consideration for how your choices affect you. You might even get some insights into how your bad habits harmed before.

I think this is why the physicality of Taoist ideas helps me. Imagining carefully brewing an elixir, nurturing a spiritual embryo, “moving to the center” and so on resonate with me and obviously several thousand years of practitioners. It’s easy to imagine guarding and nurturing a physical thing.

I hope in your practices that you have these changes, these moments. I hope you can maintain your meditations. And I hope you can guard and nurture what you find.

Plus if you want a deep dive into Taoist symbolism, I got some books to recommend . . .

–Xenofact

The Gentle and The Firm

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In my readings on Taoism, I recently read through “Immortal Sisters,” one of Thomas Cleary’s early translations, this one of works by female Taoists. It’s a fascinating read of course, and it’s written by a younger, dare I say feistier Cleary with opinions on certain eras of Chinese history that I believe mitigated with time. However I wish to focus on some writings by famed Taoist Immortal Sun Bu-Er and commentary by Chen Yingning (Cleary has a knack for finding and translating not just documents, but often extensive commentary on the same).

The funny thing was the copy I had I’ve had, as of this writing, perhaps two decades or more. I’d forgotten I had it, and as I was working to expand my Taoist readings, I decided it was time. I found much excellent advice, but one piece stood out in particular.

To show how useful this advice was, let me explain the situation where it helped me.

My meditative practice, as I’ve stated before, is based on The Secret of The Golden Flower, where one rests mind on breath while one tunes breath to be slower and even. It’s a simple process, summarizable in, say, a small handbook. However as any practitioner of meditation knows, the actual experience is one that can be discussed endlessly (as many have).

Trying to rest mind on breath and tune that breath isn’t as simple as it may sound, at least for me. One is trying to tune breath, one is trying to rest mind, one is sitting still, one probably has thoughts arising and so on. In my readings of Taoist literature, I’ve found at least a notable part of the obscure symbolism is useful concepts and approaches to help meditation without spelling it out so much your expectations mess you up.

And the writings of Sun Bu-Er provides to have some extremely helpful advice. The specific section is called “Cultivating the Elixir,” and using alchemical symbolism, it states the following:

“Tuning the breath, gather it in the gold crucible.”

“Stabilizing spirit, guard the jade pass.”

Chen Yingning notes in his commentary (which, as per classic Taoism, is far longer than the things he comments on) that this is about the kind of concentration one uses. Breath requires strong concentration, resting the mind requires gentle concentration.

And, suddenly, I understood meditation more.

There I am tuning my breath – slower and more even all the time. That requires firmness, strength. Your whole body is engaged. That strength ensures a refined breath.

There I am resting my mind – and that is best done gently. We all know what it’s like to force our mind to do things – our mind wrestling with our mind is a painful thing. But when I rest my mind on breath, I can make it gentler and gentler.

It’s firm and gentle, mind and breath, yin and yang – pairings are understandably common in Taoist meditation. A little addition to my understanding of meditation thanks to a modern translator and the writers of the past. A little more for my journey down the path.

That’s a funny thing about meditative practices, about spiritual practices in general. You have to do it, you have to get your hands dirty, and you can’t get lost in scripture and notes and endless spinning thoughts. At the same time you have to read and expand your mind, never think you have the answers – or even all the questions.

It requires a kind of curiosity, a willingness to get into the readings – like a meditation. Be open to surprises.

Just like me with a copy of a book I got decades ago.

–Xenofact