The Pause That Refreshes

I’m always reading something, and of course some of that is about magic, mysticism, and so on. Currently it’s a mixture of Taoism, history, creativity, and Depressing Real World Stuff. As of late, I’ve added something else to my cycle – “philosophy refreshers.”

I have a large collection of Tao Te Ching translations (well over 20 and recently expanded). Though some are better than others, I find a reading of the Tao Te Ching is a good refresher to getting me in a healthy “Tao-oriented” mentality. As long as the translation is half-decent it helps me think of my life, the big picture, and what’s good for me and everyone.

So what I’ve decided to do? Every book or two I read, I then read a copy of the Tao Te Ching before reading something else. As it’s not a long book – sort of the Compact Car of religion and philosophy – I can do it in as short as an evening.

I got this idea after reading about a Taoist hermit who was obsessed with the Tao Te Ching. He was said to reread it constantly, and was considered a kind of holy or wise man. I’m not prone to reread something that much, but it did make me think “maybe reviewing this book that means so much to me is a good idea.”

I’ve found this has a number of benefits I’d like to share.

First, it’s a pause in whatever thing I’m currently focused on. I tend to go down rabbit holes now and then so it provides a break. This break is often relaxing, thought-provoking and even funny is even better.

Secondly, the Tao Te Ching for all its Deep Subject Matter, has a beautifully light feel to it. That means it’s also a great moment of rest from whatever Heavy Stuff my mind is on. A lot of Taoist stuff is like that – light yet deep.

Third, rereading something that is foundational to my ways of thinking keeps me grounded and refreshes me. Every week or two I get re-centered on who I am, how I think, how I’ve grown. I also get a good dose of translator notes and thought-provoking moments.

Also it gives me an excuse to buy even more translations. Taoist retail therapy, as it were, but I won’t count that in the list.

I’ve found this to be a real positive to my studies and readings and ruminations. As you can guess, I feel better, feel more grounded, fee more thoughtful, have more insights. I’m glad I gave this a try – and will continue to do it.

I invite you to consider “refreshers” like this in your own studies and readings. Reread a particular book, or a few chapters of a longer one so you complete it over time. Do something that helps you soak in the lessons important to you and take a break.

Let me know how that goes!

– Xenofact

Tales of Taoist Weirdos

As my friends and readers are doubtlessly aware, my spiritual practices are deeply influenced by Taoism. From breathing and energy practices, to philosophical advice, there’s a great deal to learn from the huge body of Taoist writings and lore. However, I’d like to discuss the various personalities of Taoist lore and history.

The greater body of Taoism lore and history contains a number of teachers, alchemists, mystics, and evolved human Immortals. Some are learned sages whose idols adorn temples all over the world. Others are acknowledged once in historical records or the credit of an obscure book. Most of them are just a delightful bunch of weirdos.

Gender-bending beloved flute-player Lan Caihe rubs shoulders with with Lü Dongbin, who achieved immortality after a kind of midlife crisis. There’s an alchemist-Prince who ascended to Heaven accompanies by cats and dogs because he spilled an bottle of immortality drugs. Lao-Tzu, creator of the Tao Te Ching, supposedly wrote his book when he just decided screw this and abandoned the corrupt time he lived in. More common tales might include old men with great physical powers, beggars obsessed with the Tao Te Ching, and more.

I adore this about Taoist lore because of how human is all is. A Taoist figure can be both an admirable role model and a cautionary tale separately or at the same time. Great Immortals come from humble beginnings, often learning from serious mistakes, sometimes with the help of more ancient teachers. Drunken poets spout brilliant prose between bouts of boozing in private groves. Even in more worshipful takes, the great figures of Taoism come off as relatable.

This makes Taoist tales and practices associated them more accessible in my opinion. The figures you encounter, historical and mystical, weren’t perfect in life and might even be eccentric in their divine state. If they can become better, if they can achieve peace or Immortality or just be better folks, so can you.

You also don’t feel judged by these diverse group of mystics and magicians. Their tales aren’t ones of moralizing and finger-wagging, but often of helpful figures who’ve “been there.” They’re not there to punish you – well usually, as some of them are willing to cut serious assholes down to size.

Finally, a lot of the tales of various Taoist figures are interesting and many are outright funny. There’s a reason you’ll see them pop in movies, films, television, etc.

The best way to spiritual practice is through being human – and a sense of humor as well.

– Xenofact

And So Words Become Part of Us

I have many copies of the Tao Te Ching in my library.  I found joy in reading different translations because I found new insights each time and learned about the different translators.  One copy could provide lessons no other could, and together they were more powerful.

Regretfully, I had not read any of my copies in a while.  When I remediated this, I found something interesting happening after reading two or three translations – I felt the words in the book as much as I read them.  This feeling helped me gain insights and even led to some well-needed behavior and personal changes to deal with certain challenges.

(Specifically, this happened while reading the Red Pine translation, an excellent one, but one to read after you’ve gone through some easier translations)

In my younger years, I would read philosophical and meditative writings and then be frustrated at how hard it was to “change myself.”  With study and time, I found that personal growth or exploring mental and mystical spaces took work.  Mental and mystical journeys are oft one foot in front of another, and trying to jump ahead risks frustration or delusion.

Words inspire, guide, and inform but they are not a destination.  Now I saw they were also their own form of meditation.

I realized my reading of the Tao Te Ching had been a kind of exercise or meditation.  Anyone familiar with the book knows the small chapters, well-translated, can be very evocative.  I had soaked these in by reading and rereading nearly two dozen different copies, and now reading them brought forth lessons old and new.  The words had become part of me.

Reading words and trying to bash our thoughts into place to follow them is too easy to do and usually fails.  These experiences are a reminder that reading and rereading (or hearing and rehearing) wise words and transformative thoughts is a meditation.  We have to give words time to work their way into our minds, to be analyzed, felt, and understood.

I’m sure we’ve all heard stories of sages, holy men, hermits, and mystics who would read and reread a certain book.  Now I understand their efforts much more.

– Xenofact