The Spoons of Taoist Energy Work

The Spoons of Taoist Energy Work

No, this isn’t about a highly obscure magic item (yet). It’s a bit more exposition on how my takes on “energy” work in mysticism has some benefits even if it’s not scientifically true. Energy as a metaphor is quite useful in my meditative practices, if only because it gives me better ways to understand myself.

In my meditations, I practice a kitbash version of “Internal Alchemy” from Taoist practices. Essentially I clear blockages of energies, generate energies, and circulate them. There’s 3 basic “treasures” (vitality, chi (sort of general energy), spirit), meridians, etc. But the key thing for this column is you conscience of your body’s forces as having certain functions and being able to be refined, expended, and conserved.

Taoist works often talk about conserving these treasures (usually all three, as they affect each other). One does not wish to waste one’s vitality in pointless sexual and physical indulgences as one cannot generate chi. One does not waste chi with poor habits and racing emotions as that is the powerhouse of the body and source of spirit. One preserves the spirit so it does not drain away, limiting your mental abilities and your ability to achieve higher states.

This may sound complicated, but it really comes down to “stop randomly expending your energies with worries, disconnected indulgences, etc.” One “guards” these treasures and refines them into mental and physical health and even enlightenment.

I found this simple idea of “guarding one’s energies” to be very useful for understanding how I waste the resources of mind and body. Pointlessly pushing oneself at work, obsessing over things you can’t change, etc. just burns you out. Having a more complex and poetic framework just makes it easier, no matter how “real” it is.

In fact, I realized how these ideas go to the idea of “Spoons,” the metaphor used for how much attention/mental energy one has in popular culture. Though a recent invention, it compares to multi-aeons old practices rather well. Another reminder of how metaphors for complex human behaviors are so useful, even if they are not technically or scientifically real.

Now admittedly Taoist practice isn’t just spoons – it’s sort of more forging spoons, using spoons wisely, and making better spoons. But in many ways, the preservation of one’s powers (especially spirit, which is closer to “spoons”) is part of both metaphors.

Ancient practices and modern metaphor. A reminder that a little poetry goes a long way towards our spiritual health.

Plus I get to make jokes about the title of my essay.

-Xenofact

The Changes: People

As I study the I Ching, cultivating a kind of mental “Ecosystem” of thought, I’ve found various changes in my mindset as hoped.  Last column I mentioned that the I Ching, the Book of Changes, helped me think of situations (portrayed as Hexagrams) as “Changes” – situations that arise and transform and depart.  This viewpoint has been informative, useful, and reduced stress since I feel both more empowered and less prone to worry.

But there are more insights I wanted to share, namely that I realized that it’s useful to think of situations, portrayed by Hexagrams, as “Changes,” but so are people.  People are Changes.

People are constantly shifting and changing – that’s kind of what we do.  Who we are right now is the result of various circumstances, we steer ourselves towards certain goals, and change to someone else.  A human is indeed a Change, a constant shifting dialogue with both ourselves and the universe.

When I had this insight, I suddenly saw how I viewed people as static and how wrong that was.  A person can be different between morning and night, hour to hour, or minute to minute.  Yes we may have reasonably solid traits, but those will change and evolve, and even their expression may alter when they’re solid. 

This made me see other people much differently.  I saw how my idea of a person as static meant I was judging them inappropriately and missing how they may grow and develop or just have a bad day.  It also reminded me that interacting with people is navigation, just as one navigates the Changes of the I Ching.

For some reason, seeing people as “more changeable” helped me appreciate them more as people.

But if other people are Changes, then so am I.  I am not solid, I am more a flow like water, shifting and moving, now deep now shallow, changing direction.  I am different day to day and moment to moment.  That also means that, seeing I am a Change, I can choose how I evolve and grow and respond.  I’m not a solid thing, I am far freeer than that.

I even saw this in my Secret of the Golden Flower style meditation, where I just follow a slow even breath.  Every moment of breathing and following is a moment that leads into the other, a constant changing stream.  If I get some distraction I merely flow back, realizing that I am, as noted, a dialogue.

We’re all changes, we’re all not solid.  It’s rather relaxing.

This work at building a mental “Ecosystem” using Taoist thought has helped me lead a richer, deeper, more connected life.  I’m curious to what insights I might have next – we’ll see what arises.

Xenofact

The Changes: Situations

As noted in previous writings, I’ve been working to cultivate an “Ecosystem” of thought, based around my Taoist influences. This includes reading bits of the Tao Te Ching each day, as well as studying at least one Hexagram from various translations of the I Ching. I’d like to focus on the latter, as it highlights the benefits of this “ecosystem” approach.

The I Ching’s name roughly translates as Book of Changes, which fits its origins and many, many modifications. It seems to have started as a divinatory guide, but includes philosophical commentary that has been added to over the years, and of course there are many “less official” takes. But at it’s core are 64 situations in life that one may be in, and advice (supernatural or otherwise) applied to it. And over the aeons, people have had plenty to say.

I suppose a book called “The Book of Changes” that . . . changes . . . kind of fits. I rather enjoy the additional commentary that others have added because it’s all about understanding situations in life and how to respond. In my readings something struck me about how this is all about the “Changes” in life – every situation is a change.

Whatever situation we’re in, it’s the result of a change, and in turn it will change into something else. It arose from something before it, and will pass into something after it. The advice in the I Ching and many a philosophical work is really “how do you deal with this and determine what will happen next.” I realized from this that whatever situation I might find myself in, it’s healthier to think of it as “A Change.”

Because I think of whatever arises as A Change, I don’t act like it’s permanent because it’s not. If it is good, it will pass or decay, or need maintenance, or need to be altered to continue. If it is bad it will pass, and it is up to me to navigate the time and how other things may result from it. The moment is a squirming, living, changing thing.

This helps me be less worried about the moment as it’s about steering towards something – or at least surviving the current Change. I’m living a snapshot of life, part of something greater, and I can see it as a chance to take control (or take my hands off the controls). I don’t see it as solid, I see where I am as mutable.

Viewing the current moment of life as a Change also helps me be responsible, and asks how do I deal with it and what may come next. Indeed the I Ching is often about “here’s this situation, here’s some advice of what may be an annoyingly general quality.” But it is about “how do I respond,” and it sort of helps that over the centuries quite a few people responded with “here’s my opinion.”

So this use of the I Ching, to switch my view to seeing life as Changes, has been quite helpful to me. It’s more responsible, less stressful, and honestly more engaging with life. I suppose I passed some point in my “mental ecosystem” where I’m seeing the world as far more of an ecosystem.

Also It’s more relaxing, and I appreciate that benefit as well.

The Changes: Situations

As noted in previous writings, I’ve been working to cultivate an “Ecosystem” of thought, based around my Taoist influences. This includes reading bits of the Tao Te Ching each day, as well as studying at least one Hexagram from various translations of the I Ching. I’d like to focus on the latter, as it highlights the benefits of this “ecosystem” approach.

The I Ching’s name roughly translates as Book of Changes, which fits its origins and many, many modifications. It seems to have started as a divinatory guide, but includes philosophical commentary that has been added to over the years, and of course there are many “less official” takes. But at it’s core are 64 situations in life that one may be in, and advice (supernatural or otherwise) applied to it. And over the aeons, people have had plenty to say.

I suppose a book called “The Book of Changes” that . . . changes . . . kind of fits. I rather enjoy the additional commentary that others have added because it’s all about understanding situations in life and how to respond. In my readings something struck me about how this is all about the “Changes” in life – every situation is a change.

Whatever situation we’re in, it’s the result of a change, and in turn it will change into something else. It arose from something before it, and will pass into something after it. The advice in the I Ching and many a philosophical work is really “how do you deal with this and determine what will happen next.” I realized from this that whatever situation I might find myself in, it’s healthier to think of it as “A Change.”

Because I think of whatever arises as A Change, I don’t act like it’s permanent because it’s not. If it is good, it will pass or decay, or need maintenance, or need to be altered to continue. If it is bad it will pass, and it is up to me to navigate the time and how other things may result from it. The moment is a squirming, living, changing thing.

This helps me be less worried about the moment as it’s about steering towards something – or at least surviving the current Change. I’m living a snapshot of life, part of something greater, and I can see it as a chance to take control (or take my hands off the controls). I don’t see it as solid, I see where I am as mutable.

Viewing the current moment of life as a Change also helps me be responsible, and asks how do I deal with it and what may come next. Indeed the I Ching is often about “here’s this situation, here’s some advice of what may be an annoyingly general quality.” But it is about “how do I respond,” and it sort of helps that over the centuries quite a few people responded with “here’s my opinion.”

So this use of the I Ching, to switch my view to seeing life as Changes, has been quite helpful to me. It’s more responsible, less stressful, and honestly more engaging with life. I suppose I passed some point in my “mental ecosystem” where I’m seeing the world as far more of an ecosystem.

Also, It’s more relaxing, and I appreciate that benefit as well.

Xenofact