books

Preserving the Legacy

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The world is in chaos. Politics is reality show. As I write this forest fires are burning up parts of LA while a deep freeze grips the US south. Climate change is changing pretty rapidly. I fully expect humanity to survive, and in centuries, prosper again. It’s just going to be rough and cruel.

One thing I’m doing is preserving philosophical and religious books to people that I know will be interested in them, that will preserve them, and give them away to reliable folks if needed. In the disasters that are here and ones that may come, these things that guided me may guide others. It’s a chance to leave something to help those in the future, and in a personal way.

I sit here and know the world isn’t ending but parts of it are, and many ways of life will. I ask what matters to me, what taught me, and what will help others. I ask who I can trust and who will care. I ask a lot of questions right now about a world I will one day not be in.

It’s a humbling experience. I am looking at books asking what helped me become who I am, wanting to pass it to people who aren’t me and knowing I won’t be there. I feel myself stretched forward in time, asking what’s next. I have to think about what will help someone unknown grow, what preserves what is good today.

It’s an enlightening experience. I have a large library but have to ask what truly mattered to me and will matter to others. I can see a pattern, a timeline of what books helped me grow, and it helps me understand myself. I can ask what will help others.

It’s also an experience I want to share. I recommend you do this if you have some specific holy books – or any books – to preserve. It makes you think, appreciate what you have, who you are, and who you can trust. It’s a way to think of the future.

So here, as we face a lot of challenges, take a moment to save what matters to you spiritually. Leave something for those to come. Maybe it’ll help shape the future into a better way just like it shaped you.

-Xenofact

Not Alone Among The Books

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As I mentioned several times before, I like to read various Taoist documents as it helps me build a mental “ecosystem.” That ecosystem helps me understand my meditative work, develop philosophical understanding, and better connect to the world. However, I noted another benefit as of late – a feeling of understanding.

I read of historical figures whose tales border on or are legend, often presented by Taoist writers as examples or cautionary tales. I find some of them relatable, in virtues, in flaws, and in experiences. Across the centuries, the aeons, I feel kinship, even in my own mistakes.

There are authors who comment on their experiences, plans, and desires. There, reading a book from a thousand years ago, I get them. I understand what they’re trying to do, what they’re experiencing, and even their mistakes. Sometimes you learn a lot by going “I understand why you said that” and “been there.”

Then there’s all the advice and observations these ancient Taoist writers provide. Timeless stuff, the same observations, even the same issues, are things they wrote about and things I learn about now. It’s not just that it’s useful, someone wrote it down to help others, someone going through what I went through.

Then when you look at these books hundreds or thousands of years old, you realize that you have it because of a chain of scribes and printers transcribing it. Someone made sure you had this book, dipping their pen into ink, arranging blocks on the press. You have that book because of people who did that – and if you’re someone like me, that’s someone like us.

Finally, there’s the translators, some of whom leave their own notes and commentary, sometimes even their own experience getting the book done. These are the people that made sure you can read the book – and make sense of metaphors, cultural tropes, and so on. They did this for a reason.

All these books make me feel not just informed, but less alone. There’s people like me, people who I get and relate to. Whatever wisdom I gain from their works and efforts, I also gain a sense of camaraderie.

Maybe this also explains some of the thrill I get sharing books that matter to me. A book may find someone who connects to it like I do, and there’s one more person feeling that connected to all those who came before.

-Xenofact

Speculation on Spiritual Ferment

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As you probably realize, I like doing zines. Chances are you’re reading this in a zine, have some of my zines, or will have my pitch you buying some. I like writing down my spiritual and related thoughts and hearing what people have to say.

Also they make a great gift! Hint.

Anyway as I’ve noted before I’d like to see more spiritual/mystical zines, especially ones about meditation and techniques for self-refinement. I mean yes there are great books, there’s a reason I own so much of the late Thomas Cleary’s translations, but there’s “several thousand years old” and “recent insights.”

This led me to an interesting speculation I’d like to share. I wonder if the current concept of publishing – that you should put out big honking books – is a disservice to “spiritual ferment.” Let me just get to the base of my thoughts.

Imagine spiritual exchanges via zines or some similar reusable, but focused small press. Be it an APA or a quarterly, the goal would be to both record findings, discuss, and dialogue. A bit like the old APAs as I’ve written about before. Such a situation would provide both well-designed and well-thought out written communication and an exchange of ideas.

Large, published works aren’t dialogues and people need dialogue to learn. Large, published works also have the problem of authority wearing you might take them too seriously – even if the author doesn’t intend that. Also maybe I don’t want to go through 250 pages to get 50 pages relevant to me – no offense.

Meanwhile, immediate dialogue is great, but sometimes constant immediate feedback has its own problems. It can be distracting or go off the rails. It can lead to groupthink. Also scheduling time to exchange ideas can be frustrating, and constant use of things like chat programs can be time-sucking in their own way.

But small pieces of work, focused, contemplated, in one’s own time but with a cadence of exchange? I intuitively feel there really is something there.

I’m probably influenced by old Taoist tales of people exchanging small books, papers, poetry, manuals, and so on. But maybe there’s something there to emulate.

Also sometimes the Taoists got wasted together and wrote really sarcastic poetry, but that’s thoughts for another post . . .