taoism

The Gentle and The Firm

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In my readings on Taoism, I recently read through “Immortal Sisters,” one of Thomas Cleary’s early translations, this one of works by female Taoists. It’s a fascinating read of course, and it’s written by a younger, dare I say feistier Cleary with opinions on certain eras of Chinese history that I believe mitigated with time. However I wish to focus on some writings by famed Taoist Immortal Sun Bu-Er and commentary by Chen Yingning (Cleary has a knack for finding and translating not just documents, but often extensive commentary on the same).

The funny thing was the copy I had I’ve had, as of this writing, perhaps two decades or more. I’d forgotten I had it, and as I was working to expand my Taoist readings, I decided it was time. I found much excellent advice, but one piece stood out in particular.

To show how useful this advice was, let me explain the situation where it helped me.

My meditative practice, as I’ve stated before, is based on The Secret of The Golden Flower, where one rests mind on breath while one tunes breath to be slower and even. It’s a simple process, summarizable in, say, a small handbook. However as any practitioner of meditation knows, the actual experience is one that can be discussed endlessly (as many have).

Trying to rest mind on breath and tune that breath isn’t as simple as it may sound, at least for me. One is trying to tune breath, one is trying to rest mind, one is sitting still, one probably has thoughts arising and so on. In my readings of Taoist literature, I’ve found at least a notable part of the obscure symbolism is useful concepts and approaches to help meditation without spelling it out so much your expectations mess you up.

And the writings of Sun Bu-Er provides to have some extremely helpful advice. The specific section is called “Cultivating the Elixir,” and using alchemical symbolism, it states the following:

“Tuning the breath, gather it in the gold crucible.”

“Stabilizing spirit, guard the jade pass.”

Chen Yingning notes in his commentary (which, as per classic Taoism, is far longer than the things he comments on) that this is about the kind of concentration one uses. Breath requires strong concentration, resting the mind requires gentle concentration.

And, suddenly, I understood meditation more.

There I am tuning my breath – slower and more even all the time. That requires firmness, strength. Your whole body is engaged. That strength ensures a refined breath.

There I am resting my mind – and that is best done gently. We all know what it’s like to force our mind to do things – our mind wrestling with our mind is a painful thing. But when I rest my mind on breath, I can make it gentler and gentler.

It’s firm and gentle, mind and breath, yin and yang – pairings are understandably common in Taoist meditation. A little addition to my understanding of meditation thanks to a modern translator and the writers of the past. A little more for my journey down the path.

That’s a funny thing about meditative practices, about spiritual practices in general. You have to do it, you have to get your hands dirty, and you can’t get lost in scripture and notes and endless spinning thoughts. At the same time you have to read and expand your mind, never think you have the answers – or even all the questions.

It requires a kind of curiosity, a willingness to get into the readings – like a meditation. Be open to surprises.

Just like me with a copy of a book I got decades ago.

–Xenofact

The Joy of Cultivation

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In my various Taoist-infused spiritual meditation. There’s something I noted in both my own experience and in the writings of different teachers, sage, immortals, and weirdos – that there’s a real joy in self-cultivation.

Meditation. Ethical contemplation. Dietary improvement. Self-analysis. Reading and informing oneself. There’s a real pleasure in all of it that I saw in everything from Taoist mystics to Confucian intellectuals to mystics and magicians. I get this, and it’s a joy I think more people could appreciate.

My meditative work, both breath and energy work, help me explore myself, develop myself, understand myself. It’s like refining a metal, gradual work as something beautiful emerges. I sit down and tune my breath and rest mind, or circulate energy, there, in touch with myself – even when a distraction frustrates me at least I’m there, alive.

My meditative work is also about skill development. Tuning that breath and attention. Being aware of the flows of energies. Every day is a chance to improve that skill, every day I’m a little bit better (well, statistically) at what I do.

My meditative studies are fulfilling. To read documents thousands of years old, to analyze symbols and translations, informs me and connects me to others that laid the foundation for me now. Wrestling with symbolism may at times be frustrating (notoriously so in Taoist alchemy) but it is also connecting and energizing. I’m there, understanding, relating, and going “what the heck” just as people have for thousands of years.

I also work on my ethics, my place in society because you can’t escape that – being human. I may be a mystic of sorts, but it’s not in a monastery – indeed I’m of the mind that self-cultivation is best directly in human society if you can handle it. It may be more challenging, but it’s also fulfilling as I am in direct contact with people and can learn more quickly.

My ethical studies and interests also, again, connect me to others. I can discuss with other people so included to self-cultivation, but I also connect with past writers as I read their books. There is something about reading advice from a thousand years ago that is relevant to today that is illuminating and connecting. There’s also something about trying to be a better person and really figure out what to do in this world.

(And at times frustrating, as you’re realizing how many a human problem hasn’t changed. But it’s a frustration that connects me to another frustrated person of centuries ago!)

My mystical work, prayer, theurgy, also connects me to the bigger picture. To think of gods, of the great forces of the world (however abstract or embodied you prefer) is to think of the way the world works. It is to think about the powers that are and what your role in all of it is. It is to ask “where am I in all of this?”

Of course there is the Tao, and it’s hard to discuss the contemplation of that, of the Big Picture. But you get the idea.

And of course there’s questions of diet and ethical diet, of proper use or non-use of certain substances, and so on. That joy of cultivation, of becoming better, connects you to so many things. Even when those things are questioning if you should down a glass of rum (my preferred alcohol) or not.

There is a joy in this cultivation.

This is something I also think is important to modern times – if I may be so bold, needed. Making being actually better part of your life. Not what’s expected, necessarily. Not what’s trendy. But of getting real.

Maybe, as I write this, that’s a joy I should share more. But I suppose writing this is a good start.

–Xenofact

Cultural Cargo Cults Ethics and Taoism

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I was reading the Tao Te Ching lately, and Chapter 18 struck me. Let me paraphrase (from Red Pine and a few other translations):

When the Great Way is left, kindness and justice arise

When reason arises, we encounter deceit.

When the six relations fail, we encounter obedience and love.

When the country is in chaos, we acknowledge honest officials.

I take this chapter to be one of failure. If people hold to the Tao, the Great Way, that connectedness-of-reality, you can have an orderly life. When you loose it things fall apart – even if we think we’re being virtuous.

The arising of kindness and justice sounds like a good thing. Reason is a good thing, correct? Yet the entire chapter is one of decline, ending with one of my favorite lines, the acknowledgement of honest officials – when shouldn’t they all be honest?

It’s a curious chapter indeed. Some things we’d think of are good are sneered at. When contemplating it, I had a useful insight relevant to political and social conversations of the day.

The way I read the chapter is the sense of the Tao, that unity, leads to harmony. There are kindness and justice, reason, good relations, and so on, but they are part of a “unified” worldview that is both mystical bust also practical. There may be kindness, honesty, and so on, but they are the result of holding to the Tao – not separate and distinct from it. “True” virtuous things, as it were, things that have a foundation.

But when you loose that sense of unity, everything is broken, out, separate, a substitute. That’s when I thought of the term bandied about these days (in 2026) – “Cargo Cults.”

The term “Cargo Cult Fascism” arose to describe certain would-be strongmen of our age who seemed to think that if they acted like fascist leaders, they’d have automatic compliance. The term spread to other areas of political and social discussion, noting just how much of our society was people acting out things but not actually doing them or caring about them or understanding them. Such people and their actions often failed and fell apart – bad but also dysfunctional.

But if you have “bad” Cargo Cults, that also means you can have ones of people trying to be “good.”

Suddenly, I understood this chapter of the Tao Te Ching better (especially considering the times of Taoist-versus-Confucian). It was about fragmented things, divided from a larger reality, imitative but with no foundation. Past a point you’re just going through the motions and not being anything, and not connected to the Way, the foundation of things, the depth of it all. Your kindness, your morality, no matter how hard you try, is going to be a bit hollow, a bit of an act, without that foundation.

I think that’s also why the last line hits me hard. Imagine a society in so much chaos that saying someone is an “honest minister” is a compliment as opposed to indicating that if that’s exceptional your government sucks. Also maybe that person is just a poser anyway.

Regularly reading great spiritual and philosophical works is good not just for your own spiritual “ecosystem” but for reviewing and thinking over modern and past times. This was a useful insight, helping me understand both past writings and our current situations.

(I mean the situations are both terrible but I understand them better)

–Xenofact