"All I know is that somehow, with the physical work, a way has to be found to wake the body up to work in a uniform manner. This involves pain, perseverance, guidance, patience and mindfulness. Guarding that one doesn't disappear up one's own arse in the process."
30 January 2015
29 January 2015
28 January 2015
"I have never missed a meditation in thirty-three years. I meditate once in the morning and again in the afternoon, for about twenty minutes each time. Then I go about the business of my day. And I find that the joy of doing increases. Intuition increases. The pleasure of life grows. And negativity recedes."
Meditation disciplines the mind to withdraw from the scene so that the heart can come to the fore. It is the time and place for feeling, not for thinking. Care must be taken because the mind can also create feelings – false feelings – the products of fantasy. The only reason to meditate, really, is to feel the real; and that is its reward: the knowledge that comes of feeling your own reality – your own connexions.
27 January 2015
Humanity's curse is the fact that ego functions as a rather successful stand-in for heart. Ego creates and takes advantage, giving the barest minimum required to receive such advantage. Heart, on the other hand, when it is actively leading a life, is generous to a tee, full of excess. For me, a corrupt society is one that, through design or over-development, privileges ego over heart – our own society being perhaps the prime example – whereas so called primitive and barbaric societies tend to be of the heart, with complex codes of honour to protect them from the monoculture of ego and individualism.
26 January 2015
25 January 2015
Despite the seamless ease and aplomb with which we go about our daily routines, the mind, behind the scenes, is managing affairs with a frantic anxiety: so much to-ing and fro-ing, so much inefficiency and wasted energy, and all because the course we take is no longer a matter of life and death which would require spirit, but largely one of decorum and propriety, which promises safety and security but delivers a slack and arbitrary conformity saturated with neurotic tension. And it's all unnecessary, largely generated by a cynical and cowardly decision to leak and waste all energy other than the minimum required to travel the pre-established groove; nothing left to leap clear and traverse a crest or take to the sky. The Other, not just another person but any novel situation that demands more from us, any event, represents the “irreducible and inappropriable surprise” necessary to jolt us from our routines of body and mind. The Other demands hospitality, demands that I break my usual routines and quickly adapt to their intrusion. This is the gift of the Other, a gift I could never give myself.
My six year old daughter has, for the umpteenth time, head lice. As I was applying various smelly oils the conversation went something like this:
"Dad, where did the lice come from?"
"From another child's hair."
"And where did their lice come from?"
"Again, from another child's hair."
"And where did their lice come from?"
"Yet again, from another child's hair."
"But dad, where did the first louse come from?"
In that instant I understood the utter childishness of religion.
"Dad, where did the lice come from?"
"From another child's hair."
"And where did their lice come from?"
"Again, from another child's hair."
"And where did their lice come from?"
"Yet again, from another child's hair."
"But dad, where did the first louse come from?"
In that instant I understood the utter childishness of religion.
Bring awareness to the raw edge of pre-personal perception. Caress it, arouse it with spirit; because that is where energy, activity, is made; before thought and experience can suppress it. Action comes from there, not from within. True action is drawn from me, as long as I am simply empty vessel, fit for use.
24 January 2015
The main fact of existence isn't being – that's a given – it's connexion, and the becomings affected by relationship. Affects and affections – feelings brought about by change. And in this sense everything that exists also feels.
Thinking is a withdrawal from feeling – from affection – into an inner sanctum – an interiority – that privileges fantasy over reality, and strives to make a future modelled on fantasy.
Intelligence comes from thinking, wisdom from feeling.
Thinking is generally a reactionary habit in that it struggles to repeat known feelings. There is, however, an inquisitive creative thinking that's always searching, questing, exploring new possibilities, new futures. Such thinking is never linear or logical or calculating, it is rather nonsensical and crazy – paratactical.
New feelings mean new relationships.
Thinking is a withdrawal from feeling – from affection – into an inner sanctum – an interiority – that privileges fantasy over reality, and strives to make a future modelled on fantasy.
Intelligence comes from thinking, wisdom from feeling.
Thinking is generally a reactionary habit in that it struggles to repeat known feelings. There is, however, an inquisitive creative thinking that's always searching, questing, exploring new possibilities, new futures. Such thinking is never linear or logical or calculating, it is rather nonsensical and crazy – paratactical.
New feelings mean new relationships.
22 January 2015
Yes, there is a beautiful purity, clarity, almost stark brutality to meditation: its refusal to allow any escape, its constant admonition, and only answer: "Just sit." In a sense Taiji is pure escape: from the anxious mind and into relaxation and energy. There comes a point in all serious Taiji students' lives when they will need to drop Taiji and just sit. For as long as it takes.
There is a story that Cheng Man-ching, having become terribly bored at the top of the Taiji heap, sought advice from a famous spiritual master who told him to meditate as a hermit for three years. Needless to say he didn't do it.
There is a story that Cheng Man-ching, having become terribly bored at the top of the Taiji heap, sought advice from a famous spiritual master who told him to meditate as a hermit for three years. Needless to say he didn't do it.
21 January 2015
In the same way that for Buddhists there is no first cause and hence no God, for us Daoists there is no first principle and hence no end to the delving into what we contingently take as first principle. Our method though is instructive: we don't consciously undermine or resist or doubt; instead we believe – work with a heart full of love – and slowly, slowly, deeper principles, or deeper interpretations, reveal themselves.
20 January 2015
Meditation is a time to stop and look at what you are and what you've become. And just look. Don't judge and don't consider what to change. The fact that you have looked is sufficient to slowly bring about natural changes. This is the basic difference between intelligence and wisdom: intelligence works with things whereas wisdom works with energy.
19 January 2015
18 January 2015
17 January 2015
16 January 2015
15 January 2015
14 January 2015
13 January 2015
The journey for all of us, like it or not, believe it or not, is the long arduous trek from head to heart, from slavery to paradise, calculation to love. And like the good book says, despite the trivial distance involved, and even with a qualified guide, you get little change from forty years, wandering endlessly in this deserted no-man's land where you're neither one nor the other. It's impossible without a beacon of love, whatever that may be for you: the prophet, Christ, Buddha... some potent living image to draw the heart home.
12 January 2015
11 January 2015
Form is emptiness. Or, more specifically, softening, melting, emptying generate Form. This is the miracle of Ward-Off: the emptying chest brings the strength and energy from the back down the proffering, supplicating arm. But that emptying must remain active otherwise the connexion – to the energy and the Other – is lost. This, for me, is also the secret of Natural. When I empty my heart of self and my mind of thoughts then I become consumed by energy: pure, fleeting form.
08 January 2015
07 January 2015
05 January 2015
04 January 2015
03 January 2015
Ever seen a so-called spiritual teacher totally full of their own emptiness? They are nothing if not demonstrative: hugging all and sundry, wearing a heart they feel is full of love but is really bloated with self. Such folk – you'll meet many on the New Age festival circuit – indeed do have a spiritual calling, they've just never had the good (or bad, depending upon how you look at it) fortune to find a teacher able to convince them of the absolute necessity of plain and humble daily practice.
02 January 2015
01 January 2015
Taiji as the practice of respect. To return and look again. To give, at least, a second glance. Not just an attitude, respect is also a common sacred space where the respectful can meet and exchange – work – knowing that magic will transpire. Practice is fundamentally the practice of respect – the absolute willingness to place something above oneself, to suffer reduction for the sake of a purer spirit. Without this, communication is merely a clash of opinions.
I know two Buddhist meditators: one follows the Tibetan Mahayana path and the other practises Soto Zazen. What amuses me is that they both deride the other's way as too mind based. The Zen practitioner complains that Tibetan meditation is all visualisation and mind games, whereas the Mahayana guy criticises the stiff upright posture of Zazen as a tense structure upheld by mind. I suspect that they're both correct.
In Taiji we constantly return to Earth and her forces, her sensuality, her demands, her gifts. This returning gradually erodes the shell of our interiority – the armour that has built up to protect self and thought – allowing energy to flow in and through, effectively giving Earth access to every recess.