writing

Not Alone Among The Books

by

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

Speculation on Spiritual Ferment

by

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

by

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