The Tao Isn’t The Market

In my Taoist readings, “the Tao” is always a subject of discussion. This is ironic because as the beloved Tao Te Ching notes, when you speak of the Tao you’re not speaking of the real Tao. A great deal of Taoist writing is talking about how ineffable the Tao is then writing a huge amount about it. There’s a reason I compare writers like Chuang-Tzu to people like Dave Barry – you need that mix of humor and sarcasm to handle such irony.

Of course that’s kind of the point. You have a word for the ineffable (Tao) that’s behind all things, and that word represents everything and how you can’t really define it. The Tao is everywhere, it’s why everything is, it’s the smallest and the largest, the near and the far. Taoism takes a word that lets you refer to the great connected isness of absolutely everything that words can’t otherwise encompass.

It’s kind of a linguistic hack.

That, I find, is also the power of good Taoist writing. Using a single word and poetic writing, it reminds you that the universe is great and connected. Leading you around by words and sentences, you start intuitively getting to understanding the power behind everything. In turn, that lets you live in the world, living in harmony with things, knowing it’s all vast and everywhere and connected – Tao.

If you get it you get it. If you don’t, you don’t. If you want to fake it, you probably can for awhile. But a lot of Taoism is words leading you to the wordless, that there’s a force behind everything.

What’s funny is I realized lately that the Tao reminds me of how Capitalists think of the Almighty Market.

What is is. The Market speaks. The great and powerful force that reconciles everything is perfect and everywhere and if you don’t get rich then The Market has decided. The market is unquestionable and good and perfect and the foundation of all things. The market is like the Tao in that it’s ineffable, AND like a personal god in that it makes decisions about things, granting everything a moral quality. The Market cannot be questioned, it’s that awesome! Yet also it makes decisions.

What’s funny is the market being a human construct, being about profit and gain and exploitation, is something Taoists warned about for aeons. As a construct that warps human feelings, it’s to be regarded with suspicion. As something about gain, it risks the traps of greed and acquisitiveness, which corrupt society. As something surrounded by flummery and endless long-winded justifications, it’s as suspicious as pretentious intellectuals and politicians and would-be sages.

The way people treat The Market as some divine force darkly echoes the words of the Taoists with a touch of theology, and realizing that I understand Market Fanatics passion much better. It’s beyond greed, into religion and even a kind of perverse mysticism.

And thanks to the Taoists, who would have laughed at the Market Fanatics and their pretentious, helped me understand that better. And laugh, of course.

I appreciate the irony. Which Chuang-Tzu and Dave Barry would probably both appreciate.

Xenofact

McMindfulness: Aware In The Dark

I picked up McMindfulness by Ronald E Purser when I saw it at a store, right after it had been mentioned on a podcast.  I’d heard of this look at the “mindfulness industry” and how repurposed stripped-down Buddhism was used to basically serve capitalism.  So I picked it up, read it, and found that my summary was a little too genteel.  So let me review the book – and heartily recommend it.

The book starts by looking at how, over the decades, mindfulness exercises taken in part from Buddhism had become big business in seminars and corporate advice.  The core idea is that you become more aware of your actions (and reactions) and thus mindful, are not as troubled by the world because you are so aware.  You’ll notice, by the way, it stops there – you just learn to navigate the world better as opposed to asking “why am I so stressed out?” and “why do things suck?”

The author, a Buddhist himself, walks through the Mindfulness Industry and shows how widespread it is but also how useless it is.  Since the industry is firmly lodged in neoliberal capitalism, it has no interest in fixing the system it’s in – which often causes the problem.  In fact, seeing how Mindfulness has become a corporatized product illustrates the problems of our economic and culture – which the Mindfulness Industry can’t and won’t solve.

During this tour, Purser notes firmly and intelligently that this separated selfish pseudo-self awareness misses out on Buddhism’s teachings on community, compassion, and responsibility.  The Mindfulness Industry doesn’t just take a few bits of Buddhism, it outright excludes the social elements of the religion and its teachings.  It couldn’t include them since then they’d basically be selling something that wouldn’t fill those big corporate conferences – and worse.

Because, Purser goes in depth more than I expected on mindful politics, war-waging, and more.  We’re so used to the “mindfulness” stuff we might not realize how far it’s penetrated, showing up in banal political speeches and efforts that desensitize people in the name of “not being reactive.”  Even if you pay attention to this stuff, you may be surprised beyond your capacity for cynicism.

Purser also speculated on how McMindfulness produces a selfish, separated, almost abstract sense of self.  I can see echoes of the prosperity gospel and online conspiracy theories in his speculations – both ways to seek wealth and self-aggrandizement, but without any responsibility or even real transformation.  If anything, I think there’s more to study in this area.

He does see hope – or ways – to free Mindfulness from its current corporate shackling.  So it’s not a hopeless book – it’s one carried by a kind of passionate loving rage.  So yes, you’ll get angry Buddhist when you read this.

A firm recommendation for seekers like ourselves.

-Xenofact

Cultivation For Cultivation’s Sake

So I set aside time for spiritual cultivation in my life. What I find weird is that’s very hard to talk about. Though I am informed by Taoist traditions, where “setting off to seek the Tao” is part of lore and history, our culture doesn’t seem to have an equivalent.

I’m not off to use this as therapy, despite the many benefits. Therapy is, well, therapy – and well worth everyone’s time. There are plenty of mental benefits to spiritual practice, but sometimes it’s useful to just work shit out. It also lets you focus on your practice and avoid spiritual confusion.

I’m not off to “optimize myself” and “be mindful of my work” or whatever you call “hijacking spiritual practice to be better at my job.” My job is my job, my practice is my practice. It’s nice if my job allows me to get insights, and nice if my spiritual work helps me out in my career. If I want to be better at my job, I’ll be better at my job.

I’m also not trying to make a spiritual career. If I want a new job or be a minister or whatever, then I’ll do that. I mean maybe I will some day. But that’s not the goal, but “spiritual hobbyist” doesn’t quite catch it either.

Oh, and I’m not writing a book. I mean yeah, maybe I might. I do make blog posts but that’s sort of the whole outreach/connect thing. But I’m not trying to produce something

I’m setting aside time for spiritual cultivation because that’s what I want to do. I want to be better, expand myself, seek wholeness, attain the Tao. That’s my goal, not these others things, because if they were my goal I’d so something else.

But too often I see spiritual practices assumed to be for work, or to make money, or as a substitute for dealing with your parental issues. There’s something about our culture that assumes spiritual practice can or should be something else.

It’s almost like we don’t have a language or a concept that recognizes “I am taking a significant portion of my time for spiritual growth” and have it respected and seen as normal. Or at least “acceptably eccentric.” I don’t even know how I’d express it to people, to be honest.

Maybe capitalism is part of it. We’re always taught to be hustling, making money, doing what’s profitable, etc. The idea of doing something for it’s own sake – spiritual or art or whatever – seems alien to many. The idea of giving up something (unless that makes you more money) seems weird.

Perhaps I need to find my own way to talk about it, to own that – and maybe I’ll be a good influence on others. Or at least make a small contribution to discussing it.

Xenofact