writing

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 . . .

Don’t Know It Until I Say It

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Those of us who engage in mystical, magical, and meditative activity face a paradox of recording information. It’s useful, it lets us review things, but there’s also, well, some problems.

Sure, it helps to write things down as you might read them. Also, after awhile you end up with a pile of notes and no time to read them. There’s also a little self-pressure to review such things. It takes the fun out of “holy shit, I had an insight.”

Yeah, you may write down great wisdom. But sometimes mystical insights are of the moment, and the future readings might not help. “The mind is a bird on fire” might be a good album name, but what were you talking about? Were you high? Can you remember?

Writing down deep experiences can become its own purpose – and squeeze out your other activity. When you’re trying to record your deep experiences, you might focus on the record and not the doing. When you’re ready to write it down, you might not do the meditation or spellcasting or whatever you need to do to have something to write down.

These are what I’ve experienced. I assume, perhaps arrogantly, you’ve experienced some of them. I also assume you found who other issues of writing down mystic experiences I’ve not had – or aren’t aware of. Let’s commiserate if you want to email me.

Anyway, such negatives are almost enough to make you not want to record your insights for posterity – or whatever.. But I actually have found a very good reason to do so that has nothing to do with future review or recording the wisdom of your ages. To write down or otherwise portray your mystic experiences helps you understand and process them.

You know how it goes, you have something in your head and you can’t quite understand it. But when you write it down, sketch it out, do something to put it in an understandable form you learn. The act of communicating helps you understand what you experienced.

Sometimes you write things down or whatever to talk to yourself. You might not look back on it or reread it or whatever, but at least you get it when you record it. That’s fine, but maybe the act of writing down an experience lets you process it.

I found this doing a mix of art and trying to figure how to write down my various experiences. I noticed when I wrote down things that happened in meditation as small bits of text, like the little chapterlets of The Tao Te Ching, I got them. The target audience was me at that moment, but worked better than just taking direct notes.

So when you record your various experiences in magic or meditation, remember one reason is to figure out whats’ going on right then. Don’t ignore the moment.

Even if you find the moment is the only time you pay attention to what you wrote down.

– Xenofact

The Tool

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An acquaintance of mine recently got me a copy of the Enchiridion, containing recorded teachings of the stoic philosopher Epictetus.  As I have no acquaintance with his works, I expect it to be informative – but I want to talk about the delight I take in the book’s name.

As I understand it (between the book and quick research), “enchiridion” translates roughly as “a thing in the hand” or “something you hold in one hand.”  It usually applies to two things – a manual or a dagger.

When referring to a book, it implies a manual, a concise guide – something small enough to hold with one hand while you read it.  That take on the word reminds me of how many books I like are essentially manuals.  The Tao Te Ching, The Secret of the Golden Flower, and of course many small publications in my library.  “A useful thing that fits in one hand” gives the feeling of conciseness, focus, and a lack of epehemra.

Enchiridion also means a one-handed dagger or sword – a term I was not familiar with and have mostly seen used in games if at all.  It’s also an understandable use of the term – a weapon that fits in one hand.

Both takes put me in mind of a single word – tool.  Either use of the term Enchiridion implies something simple, focused, and useful.

This reminded me of how books, pamphlets, and zines can be made so they’re tools.  Focused, precise, useful – and not over large.  A book can overstay it’s welcome, or one book is best as several.  A good manual, an Enchiridion if you will, should be something that does the job, just like the term meant a book that fit in one hand (before tablets, that’s cheating).

It’s OK to write something small.  One of Epictetus’ students did, and it’s survived to this day, so I can sit here and ruminate on the very name it holds

Go write yourself your own Enchiridion, your own special tool for people.

– Xenofact