Preserving the Legacy

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

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

An Old Fear of Meditation

Way back in my youthful days, when I became interested in religion, I was actually adverse to meditation. I want to explore this because it’s got some useful insights.

What annoyed me was that meditation seemed to be about controlling your mind. In my youthful misinterpretations, it seemed that you strove mightily to keep thoughts out of your mind. It sounded like a way to sit cross-legged calmly and get anxiety. I was a teenager, I had enough anxiety due to biochemistry.

It was only much later that I realized that meditation was more about doing something that then had certain insights/benefits or “just do it and trust me.” I wonder how my life may have been different if I had understood this difference earlier. Certainly it’d have expanded my interest in Buddhism (which I most associated with control) and meditation in general.

(Ironically I thought Taoism was cool, and despite some scholars in the 80s dissing the mystic aspects, I found those kept intriguing me.)

On reflection, I see a few lessons here.

First, my “fear of endless control” arose from people talking about what meditation should result in. The focus on the goal is anxiety-producing as we are not trying to meditate, but we are trying to “get somewhere” – and as I’ve expounded on, meditation needs doing and all else takes care of itself. I wonder how many scholars and theologians and historians accidentally turned people off to meditation or accidentally set people on a path to self-flagellation.

Secondly, it makes me realize how, as kids, there’s really little useful education on theology, culture, and spirituality. Yes, a lot of this is because all we get is religious indoctrination and marketed bullshit, but a person can hope for something more. Having a good, open, sympathetic understanding of such things would be a great benefit, though I’m not holding my breath.

Third, it makes me realize how important it is for us to be able to discuss spiritual and meditative practices with each other. It’s difficult enough as is, and when even talented authors mess it up the rest of us have a steeper hill to climb. It’s an actual skillset we could cultivate, and maybe share around.

So that’s it. Just a personal experience and something I learned. There’s always lessons in our past.

Xenofact