Mysticism

Don’t Know It Until I Say It

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Those of us who engage in mystical, magical, and meditative activity face a paradox of recording information. It’s useful, it lets us review things, but there’s also, well, some problems.

Sure, it helps to write things down as you might read them. Also, after awhile you end up with a pile of notes and no time to read them. There’s also a little self-pressure to review such things. It takes the fun out of “holy shit, I had an insight.”

Yeah, you may write down great wisdom. But sometimes mystical insights are of the moment, and the future readings might not help. “The mind is a bird on fire” might be a good album name, but what were you talking about? Were you high? Can you remember?

Writing down deep experiences can become its own purpose – and squeeze out your other activity. When you’re trying to record your deep experiences, you might focus on the record and not the doing. When you’re ready to write it down, you might not do the meditation or spellcasting or whatever you need to do to have something to write down.

These are what I’ve experienced. I assume, perhaps arrogantly, you’ve experienced some of them. I also assume you found who other issues of writing down mystic experiences I’ve not had – or aren’t aware of. Let’s commiserate if you want to email me.

Anyway, such negatives are almost enough to make you not want to record your insights for posterity – or whatever.. But I actually have found a very good reason to do so that has nothing to do with future review or recording the wisdom of your ages. To write down or otherwise portray your mystic experiences helps you understand and process them.

You know how it goes, you have something in your head and you can’t quite understand it. But when you write it down, sketch it out, do something to put it in an understandable form you learn. The act of communicating helps you understand what you experienced.

Sometimes you write things down or whatever to talk to yourself. You might not look back on it or reread it or whatever, but at least you get it when you record it. That’s fine, but maybe the act of writing down an experience lets you process it.

I found this doing a mix of art and trying to figure how to write down my various experiences. I noticed when I wrote down things that happened in meditation as small bits of text, like the little chapterlets of The Tao Te Ching, I got them. The target audience was me at that moment, but worked better than just taking direct notes.

So when you record your various experiences in magic or meditation, remember one reason is to figure out whats’ going on right then. Don’t ignore the moment.

Even if you find the moment is the only time you pay attention to what you wrote down.

– Xenofact

The Changes: Situations

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As noted in previous writings, I’ve been working to cultivate an “Ecosystem” of thought, based around my Taoist influences. This includes reading bits of the Tao Te Ching each day, as well as studying at least one Hexagram from various translations of the I Ching. I’d like to focus on the latter, as it highlights the benefits of this “ecosystem” approach.

The I Ching’s name roughly translates as Book of Changes, which fits its origins and many, many modifications. It seems to have started as a divinatory guide, but includes philosophical commentary that has been added to over the years, and of course there are many “less official” takes. But at it’s core are 64 situations in life that one may be in, and advice (supernatural or otherwise) applied to it. And over the aeons, people have had plenty to say.

I suppose a book called “The Book of Changes” that . . . changes . . . kind of fits. I rather enjoy the additional commentary that others have added because it’s all about understanding situations in life and how to respond. In my readings something struck me about how this is all about the “Changes” in life – every situation is a change.

Whatever situation we’re in, it’s the result of a change, and in turn it will change into something else. It arose from something before it, and will pass into something after it. The advice in the I Ching and many a philosophical work is really “how do you deal with this and determine what will happen next.” I realized from this that whatever situation I might find myself in, it’s healthier to think of it as “A Change.”

Because I think of whatever arises as A Change, I don’t act like it’s permanent because it’s not. If it is good, it will pass or decay, or need maintenance, or need to be altered to continue. If it is bad it will pass, and it is up to me to navigate the time and how other things may result from it. The moment is a squirming, living, changing thing.

This helps me be less worried about the moment as it’s about steering towards something – or at least surviving the current Change. I’m living a snapshot of life, part of something greater, and I can see it as a chance to take control (or take my hands off the controls). I don’t see it as solid, I see where I am as mutable.

Viewing the current moment of life as a Change also helps me be responsible, and asks how do I deal with it and what may come next. Indeed the I Ching is often about “here’s this situation, here’s some advice of what may be an annoyingly general quality.” But it is about “how do I respond,” and it sort of helps that over the centuries quite a few people responded with “here’s my opinion.”

So this use of the I Ching, to switch my view to seeing life as Changes, has been quite helpful to me. It’s more responsible, less stressful, and honestly more engaging with life. I suppose I passed some point in my “mental ecosystem” where I’m seeing the world as far more of an ecosystem.

Also It’s more relaxing, and I appreciate that benefit as well.

The Changes: Situations

As noted in previous writings, I’ve been working to cultivate an “Ecosystem” of thought, based around my Taoist influences. This includes reading bits of the Tao Te Ching each day, as well as studying at least one Hexagram from various translations of the I Ching. I’d like to focus on the latter, as it highlights the benefits of this “ecosystem” approach.

The I Ching’s name roughly translates as Book of Changes, which fits its origins and many, many modifications. It seems to have started as a divinatory guide, but includes philosophical commentary that has been added to over the years, and of course there are many “less official” takes. But at it’s core are 64 situations in life that one may be in, and advice (supernatural or otherwise) applied to it. And over the aeons, people have had plenty to say.

I suppose a book called “The Book of Changes” that . . . changes . . . kind of fits. I rather enjoy the additional commentary that others have added because it’s all about understanding situations in life and how to respond. In my readings something struck me about how this is all about the “Changes” in life – every situation is a change.

Whatever situation we’re in, it’s the result of a change, and in turn it will change into something else. It arose from something before it, and will pass into something after it. The advice in the I Ching and many a philosophical work is really “how do you deal with this and determine what will happen next.” I realized from this that whatever situation I might find myself in, it’s healthier to think of it as “A Change.”

Because I think of whatever arises as A Change, I don’t act like it’s permanent because it’s not. If it is good, it will pass or decay, or need maintenance, or need to be altered to continue. If it is bad it will pass, and it is up to me to navigate the time and how other things may result from it. The moment is a squirming, living, changing thing.

This helps me be less worried about the moment as it’s about steering towards something – or at least surviving the current Change. I’m living a snapshot of life, part of something greater, and I can see it as a chance to take control (or take my hands off the controls). I don’t see it as solid, I see where I am as mutable.

Viewing the current moment of life as a Change also helps me be responsible, and asks how do I deal with it and what may come next. Indeed the I Ching is often about “here’s this situation, here’s some advice of what may be an annoyingly general quality.” But it is about “how do I respond,” and it sort of helps that over the centuries quite a few people responded with “here’s my opinion.”

So this use of the I Ching, to switch my view to seeing life as Changes, has been quite helpful to me. It’s more responsible, less stressful, and honestly more engaging with life. I suppose I passed some point in my “mental ecosystem” where I’m seeing the world as far more of an ecosystem.

Also, It’s more relaxing, and I appreciate that benefit as well.

–Xenofact

Rethinking Our Bodies

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It takes little effort to look into most forms of mysticism and find something involving the body and the supernatural forces supposedly within. Energy channels and chakras, planetary correspondences and and vortices, many a form of mysticism treats the body as some supernatural system. Even if it’s not part of a given practice, someone has, is, or will add some spiritual-physical elements by shoehorning it in.

Now as any reader remotely familiar with me knows, as much as I find “blueprints” of such things useful, I’m also cautious about them. It’s too easy to turn a mystical practice into a checkbox of experiences one can merely hallucinate instead of experience. But when it comes to this “psychoanatomy” as I call it, I get the value and appeal even when it’s obvious bullshit.

Our bodies are part of our experience, part of reality, and they should be part of our spiritual practice. I mean you can kind of ignore them, but hunger, horniness, or a stubbed toe are going to bring you back to your body, like it or not.

A moment to look at your body quickly reveals how it reflects – and affects – your mental (dare I say even spiritual?) state. Tensions in your mind manifest in your body, emotional reactions are burned into your physical ones, and sense memories can flood you with recollections. It’s complicated,it’s complex, and not dealing with our bodies in spiritual practice just leaves out part of us.

Someone dealing with any form of psychoanatomy is at least being aware of our bodies and deconstructing and rethinking them. To think of the body as energy flows, or correspondences, or chakras can help see and even “take apart” old habits of thought, tension, and reaction. Sure, some of the techniques we use may be utter bullshit (and there’s plenty on the market) but rethinking your body is valuable.

It’s also something I think a lot of us really need to do. I get why people may buy some hack Quigong book or try to align their energy centers or use emotional support oil, or whatever. In my own meditative work I’ve become painfully aware of my tensions and how my body reflects deeper psychological processes. Sometimes you hurt, or feel uncomfortable, or suddenly have overwhelming musical reactions and you really want to deal with that.

It’s easy to fall into bullshit mysticism over the body. I’m sympathetic.

As spiritual practitioners, mystics, and the like, it’s also a reminder that people may have some real insights from their otherwise ill-informed practices. We shouldn’t just be sympathetic, but should help them out with healthier practices of bodily mysticism – or just recommendations for a good therapist. Even the crap may bring insights, and we can make sure those are channeled in a useful way.

– Xenofact