31 January 2016
30 January 2016
Most philosophies eventually come to the conclusion that there are two basic forces or principles in the universe: the force of contraction/attraction/tension – the inbreath, and the force of expansion/repulsion/relaxation – the outbreath. Daoism is interested in how these principles (yin and yang) separate out in the mix, abide side by side (a process that seems a state which we call Central Equilibrium) and transform one into the other.
Mind in dantien. This is one of those vague instructions that begs endless specification. It is really developing and feeling the dantien as centre (for which one needs to do endless corework) and then relaxing that conditioned centre into the external gravitational field that contains it such that one is constantly mindful of the Earth's tug upon not only the dantien but everything within eye and earshot. Then, and only then, the body becomes energized à la Taiji.
29 January 2016
28 January 2016
25 January 2016
23 January 2016
22 January 2016
Satan, for those who hadn't already worked it out, is simply the thinking mind – the false light of reason that sees precisely what it wants to see. So we are all devil worshippers, at least until, through dint of laborious painstaking work, we learn to subdue that part of the mind and let the divine aspect – the broad plane of immanence – predominate.
21 January 2016
Mind in dantien. The very first instruction. And it all hinges on this. To be successful the mind must want to settle in the dantien rather than dwell anywhere else. And for the average beginner the mind would rather be anywhere but the dantien because the dantien, despite its peace and quiet, is rather lonely and featureless and unentertaining and, let's face it, scary.
20 January 2016
19 January 2016
18 January 2016
16 January 2016
Meditation is the time to feel the body's desire to return to Earth and the soul's desire to return to God; that is, the inevitability and desirability of death. And how the breath and the heartbeat are sufficient for life, and how thinking and anxiety and fear and tension and even feeling muddy the issue.
After giving the usual pep talk at the end of a meditation class about one's obligation to the sangha and the soul, namely the necessity of daily personal practice, a lazy student looked at me imploringly and asked: "Isn't there a short cut?"
"This is the short cut," I answered; not without a certain glee.
"This is the short cut," I answered; not without a certain glee.
15 January 2016
Time is a wild stallion always threatening to either run away (with you) or trample you under its heavy hooves. Meditation is a taming of time – making friends with time – whispering into its sensitive ears – marking its passage with each breath like the proverbial prisoner scratching his cell wall to keep track of the days. If you manage this, to any degree, then on death you'll ride on the strong back of time, stately and dignified, into the sunset, onto the next leg of this infinite journey.
14 January 2016
Breathing is not just a gathering of oxygen and expulsion of CO2, it is also our most basic grip on physical reality – a pump which ties me into the world, muscularly and spiritually. Through it I become intimately aware of the materiality of air – its mass, inertia and momentum – and I use those properties to haul myself, through breathing, along the line of life. Taiji, of course, is a similar machine, hence swimming in air.
Thinking, as Barry Long famously quipped, is a psychological disease. It has become a compulsion, a neurosis, something we have forgotten how to turn off. Meditation is the struggle to break that compulsion and return the mind to its natural state of quiet attentive presence – firmly lodged in the here and now. It is perhaps the most difficult task you will ever attempt, but if you are awake enough to feel the inner yearning for peace and desire for freedom then you will start and continue and eventually succeed.
12 January 2016
11 January 2016
10 January 2016
09 January 2016
08 January 2016
07 January 2016
Imagine, for a moment, that you are suddenly called upon to stare death in the face and, as Castaneda beautifully put it, dance your last dance. Words, and their associated anxieties, would not just fail you, they would disappear altogether, to be replaced by a focused intensity — you, a lifetime of spiritual work, at your very best.
06 January 2016
03 January 2016
God is, simply, the weight of the collective soul: our frightened insistence that we, whoever we are, are special, different and more deserving than those who do not share this soul: other races, cultures and, especially, other species. And the more secular we become, the more we insist that God is dead, the more pervasive he becomes by subtly vaporizing and seeping into our ideals and institutions: democracy, justice, freedom, progress, human rights, etc, all of which are defended and promulgated with a religious and imperialist zeal that puts the crusaders to shame.