Geof Nanto

Valid observations but I think you’ll also find that dynamic exists in academia as well, albeit in a more controlled way. It’s a mistake to think the grass is necessarily greener elsewhere. Manitou makes some valid observations too. Why not look a bit deeper here? There are many voices on this forum. If you spend some time readings posts and researching historical discussions relevant to your interest, I think you’ll find people who have wisdom in the areas you’re wanting for your research questions. My suggestion is that you PM Apech and ask him if he’d be willing to help you. He is a long-term Buddhist practitioner with an excellent theoretical understanding and he also has a good historical overview of the subject. In that regard he’s not alone here, but he also excels in his ability to concisely communicate this stuff. And, although he’s very clear on his own well researched understandings, he doesn’t try to dominate discussions.

OK. That’s all from me for this opening series of posts. The above content is not meant as anything definitive…..just trying to hint at something elusive that I feel within myself as the vital core at the heart of neidan as a creative spiritual art.

Commentary from the Leonard Cohen Files website: “LIGHT AS THE BREEZE" AND GREAT AS THE GODDESS: Pagan Imagery in the Work of a Modern Troubadour by Heidi Nelson Hochenedel, Ph.D. Leonard Cohen's song, "Light as the Breeze," from The Future, is a rich and complex poem drawing from a variety of religious and literary traditions. This poem is particularly interesting because it combines images of spiritual devotion and sexual passion. One of its most striking characteristics is the portrayal of the feminine as divine. The subject may or may not believe that the beloved is a goddess, but his devotion to her is comparable to the experience of a believer worshiping his deity. The subject's sexual love is a form of religious and spiritual worship. As we shall see, Cohen borrows images from Jewish, Christian, and Pagan traditions and incorporates them into a poem reminiscent of a twelfth-century troubadour canzone (1). The first stanza begins with a description in the second person (2). The voice seems to report the experience of another person (presumably the reader), which suggests that he expects the reader to identify with the description. The voice describes a specific personal experience, which is at the same time common place and ubiquitous. She stands before you naked you can see it, you can taste it but she comes to you light as the breeze You can drink it or you can nurse it it don't matter how you worship as long as you're down on your knees. This stanza can be read both literally and metaphorically. Either a woman actually stands naked before the subject or he experiences a vivid fantasy of this image. In any case, the vision is so intense that the subject can actually see and taste the presence of the woman. If she is present only in his mind, she is ethereal and genuinely "light as the breeze." The reader has a choice between absorbing the vision slowly or immersing himself in it. ("You can drink it or you can nurse it, it don't matter how you worship, as long as you're down on your knees.") Clearly, the image of the woman is both erotic and spiritual. This stanza is intriguing because it suggests that sexual arousal can be a form of worship. Such ideas seem blasphemous from a Judeo-Christian perspective, but they were quite pervasive in twelfth-century Southern France, where the troubadours wrote poems venerating their ladies and worshipping Venus, the goddess of love. Andrea Hopkins writes: In the poetry of the troubadours love was often celebrated in quasi-religious terms, with the beloved woman being venerated as an object of worship, and much emphasis on the torments suffered by the lover. They invented a religious cult of love, with its own deities- Venus and Cupid- and its own temples, rites, prayers, priests, and commandments. It was truly revolutionary because it placed women, who technically had no power in medieval society, in a position of complete dominance over their lovers. The beloved lady is the master, and the poet- even if in real life he was a great lord- is her servant, her humble supplicant. The poems express the poet's homage to his lady as if she were his feudal lord.... The goal aspired to in these love affairs is sometimes a platonic, spiritual union with the beloved, and sometimes a more physical one....On the face of it, for a poet to sleep with his lord's wife and then to write poems about it would be incredibly dangerous.... And yet it is clear from contemporary records that the writing of these love poems was seen to confer great "honor" and "worth" upon both the poet and the lady (3). Although Hopkins describes the phenomenon of courtly love as "revolutionary," it almost certainly had its roots in pre-Christian European goddess religions. The discovery of many female figurines (many times more than male figurines) from the Upper Paleothic period (4) have led scholars to believe that goddess worship was widespread in Europe (5). In these ancient cultures, women had a dominant role because sexuality and motherhood were considered sacred and the Earth (the Mother Goddess) was the principle deity. Christianity spread throughout Europe but vestiges of pagan traditions (often characterized by goddess worship) persisted. The cult of Mary is one example of Christianized goddess worship and it is certainly no accident that most Christian holidays (including Christmas and Easter) were scheduled to coincide with pagan feast days. The songs of the troubadours also betray a goddess worshipping heritage. Christianity, at first brought little change. Peasants saw in the story of Christ only a new version of their own ancient tales of the Mother Goddess and her divine child, who is sacrificed and reborn. Country priests often led the dance at the Sabbats, or the great festivals....Persecution began slowly. The twelfth and thirteenth centuries saw a revival of aspects of the Old Religion by the troubadours, who wrote love poems to the Goddess (6) Like the troubadours, the voice in Cohen's poem describes the naked woman in conspicuously religious terms and regards her (or his love for her) as a deity to whom he is subjected. The blessings he receives are reminiscent of the "merci" shown to the troubadours by their ladies. For the troubadours, true love always involved immoderate longing and suffering. Canzones were rarely about the beloved (who was generally distant and uninvolved), and focused primarily on the torments endured by the lover. In a style which is both ancient and modern, Cohen's poem incorporates all of these characteristics and artfully depicts the painful and pervasive experience of being in love. It is significant that the goddess/woman's movement is described as "light as the breeze." Cohen's goddess is not the first to manifest herself as moving air. The Jewish God too, came to his servant, Job, in the form of a whirlwind (7). In this story, Satan claims that Job's faithfulness is merely a result of his prosperity, saying that if his fortune should change he would forsake the Lord. To disprove Satan's claims, God sends several plagues on Job and his household. Although his wife urges Job to "curse God and die," he remains faithful. Then Job arose, and rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground, and worshipped. And said, Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. (Job 1:20-21) (8). Finally the Lord comes to Job in the form of a whirlwind, explaining that mere mortals cannot understand His ways. Job is rewarded for his suffering with blessings from heaven. The process described in Cohen's poem is very similar. Like the Hebrew God, the goddess/woman comes to the worshiper as moving air or breath to assuage his torments. Although he, like Job, suffers because of her, he is unable to turn away. Job remains faithful to God out of blind love whereas the subject in Cohen's poem seems to do so out of emotional need, which suggests that faithfulness and dependance are identical. The second stanza spells out quite plainly that the subject's romantic/ sexual love is indistinguishable from spiritual love. The woman (or more precisely, the vision of the woman) in Cohen's poem represents a spiritual presence. Although this presence is less forceful than Job's whirlwind god, it is certainly not less powerful. So I knelt there at the delta at the alpha and the omega at the cradle of the river and the seas And like a blessing come from heaven for something like a second I was healed, and my heart was at ease. Oh baby I waited so long for your kiss For something to happen, oh for something like this. The subject kneels at the delta because it is the temple of the deity, the Alpha and the Omega or God (9). God is both the beginning and the end, and the delta, the end of the river and the beginning of the ocean, symbolizes God's essence. A delta is also a triangle, which may represent the shape of female genitalia. The deltoid vulva is the mouth of the womb and the source of human life. Pre-Christian goddess worshipers considered the womb and vulva sacred. and many sculptures of female reproductive organs have been found from the Upper Paleolithic period (10). The womb is a sacred image in both pagan and Judeo-Christian belief systems. As we have seen, Job sees the earth as the great womb from which he was born and to which he will return. The earth (the mother goddess) represents the beginning and the end of all life. Cohen's "delta" may also refer to the great goddess or the earth itself . In the refrain, which is written in the first person, it becomes clear what the goddess/woman must do to "cure" her worshipper; a simple kiss is all that is necessary to relieve his suffering. Unfortunately the "cure" lasts for only "for something like a second," generating a greater longing that can never be satisfied. Moreover, as in the case of Job, the deity (represented by either the woman or the subject's love for her) causes the suffering by withholding these "blessings." The next stanza, which reverts back to the second person, describes the feeling of entrapment caused by this addiction to "blessings." And you're weak and you're harmless And you're sleeping in your harness and the wind going wild in the trees And it's not exactly prison but you'll never be forgiven for whatever you've done with the keys The image of the wind in the trees evokes the vision of the goddess/ woman, whose movement was first described as "light as the breeze." In this stanza, she is outside and separate from the worshiper, manifesting herself as a strong wind, like the one that came to Job. The subject, however, is unable to be with her because he is too weak to escape from his "harness," an obvious metaphor for an obstacle to communion with the beloved. Strangely enough, this condition seems to be voluntary; he has locked himself up and takes full responsibility for having either lost or thrown away the keys. Perhaps the "key" represents the resolve to curse the woman and to let his need for her die. More plausibly the "key" would release him from his harness (or remove the obstacle) that separates him from her. In any case, it is clear that because of an obstacle he has chosen not to remove, he can not go to her. The next stanza reverts back to the first person and describes the weather and landscape of a cold winter's night. It's dark and it's snowing I've got to be going St. Lawrence River is starting to freeze And I'm sick of pretending I'm broken from bending I've lived too long on my knees The images of winter, night, and the freezing river evoke the idea of death. On the album Cohen sings "Oh my love, I must be going " instead of "I've got to be going," suggesting that he is with the beloved but the environment she has created is so bleak and inhospitable that it is impossible to endure. The worshiper, who is as broken and tormented as Job, is clearly resentful for having spent so much time and energy "on his knees" worshipping a goddess, who rewards his efforts with coldness and distance. Significantly, the voice also expresses that he is "sick of pretending." The verb "to pretend" can mean either "to profess" or "to feign," but current usage seems to favor the latter definition. Perhaps the speaker is tired of pretending not to resent the indifference of a cold and distant goddess. At this point he seems ready to abandon his chilly "love." And she dances so graceful and your heart's hard and hateful and she's naked but that's just a tease And you turn in disgust from your hatred and from your love and she comes to you light as the breeze. Oh baby I waited so long for your kiss for something to happen oh for something like this. In this stanza the subject's ambiguous emotions are described. The beloved is beautiful and she looks available, but she is as inaccessible as ever, which may be both the source of his hatred and love for her. At the moment that he turns away, she comes to him with her blessings. The next stanza is one of the most interesting because it evokes images of vampirism, blood sacrifice, forgiveness, and redemption. There's blood on every bracelet you can see it, you can taste it and it's Please baby please baby please And she says, Drink deeply, pilgrim but don't forget there's still a woman beneath this resplendent chemise The reference to bracelets may be connected to ancient goddess figurines, whose arms were usually adorned with decorative bracelets (11). The blood on the bracelets may allude to the sacrificial blood of Christ, who died to redeem humanity. One of the most interesting aspects of Christianity is that Christ represents both God and the sacrificial Lamb of God. It is believed that His body and blood redeem the world from eternal damnation. His sacrifice, in the form of the Eucharist, is the spiritual food of Christians. The subject's need to drink the beloved's blood (a metaphor for accepting her sacrifice), is comparable to a Catholic's need to ingest the Eucharist. In Cohen's poem, the worshiper discerns that the beloved has made a sacrifice for his salvation, and, as in the case of Christ, this sacrifice is symbolized by blood. Like Christ, she invites the "pilgrim" to "drink deeply," although she suggests that her resources could be drained because she is a mortal woman clothed in the garments ("the resplendent chemise") of a goddess. Like Christ, she is both human and divine. Perhaps she is divine only from the perspective of the worshiper. The line "Please baby, please baby, please" declares the subject's hungering need for salvation from the torments of life apart from the beloved. It is not enough that she shower him with blessings, she must sacrifice herself because anything less would not demonstrate a great enough love. If the deity does not suffer, the worshipper cannot be saved. This idea is emblematic of Christianity and is expressed in John's first epistle. God is love. In this love of God was manifested to us, that God sent his only son into the world, so that we might have life through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he has loved us and sent his son as an expiation for our sins. (I JN. 4.8-10) The last stanza describes the result of the worshiper's communion with the beloved. It is very similar to the second stanza, but in it he professes his faith. So I knelt there at the delta at the alpha and the omega I knelt there like one who believes and like a blessing come from heaven for something like a second I was cured, and my heart was at ease. Significantly, the subject says that "I knelt there like one who believes." This suggests that in general, he does not identify himself with the believers, but after the beloved's sacrifice, he does believe. One has the impression that the experience has come full circle and that the cycle is destined to repeat itself. After the goddess/ woman makes her sacrifice, the worshiper believes in her love and her ability to "save" him. Once again, he kneels at the delta, which symbolizes the Alpha and the Omega. Again, he is cured only "for something like a second." This implies that his desire is only piqued by her sacrifice and he is not fully satisfied. Her blessings temporarily relieve his pain, but like her presence, they are ephemeral. When more is not offered, he will find himself separated from her. As a result, he will become consumed with both desire and resentment. At this point he will turn away from her, falling into a metaphorical state of sin. For Christians, sin is separation and estrangement from God and is described as spiritual death. In Cohen's poem, the subject's spiritual death is represented by being caught in a harness while the deity (represented by the wind) is outside. The cold winter night by the freezing St. Lawrence river also portrays spiritual death. Finally, in her infinite mercy, the goddess/ woman will return to the sinner as light as the breeze. Her sacrifice, identified by the blood on her bracelets, will assuage the subject's heart for something like a second, whereupon the process will begin again. Footnotes: 1) Canzones were lyric poems set to music and written in Provencal or early Italian. These poems expressed the ideal of courtly love, which developed during the twelfth century in France. The code of courtly love, which became a paragon for aristocratic behavior in Europe throughout the Middle Ages, celebrated intense and idealized sexual passion, usually between an unmarried man and a married woman. 2) The perspective of the poem alternates between first and second person, yet it is clear from the context that both subjects refer to the same person. The use of two subjects conveys the universality of the experience described in this poem. 3) Andrea Hopkins, The Book of Courtly Love (HarperSanFrancisco: Singapore, 1994), pp.10-11 4) The Upper Palaeolithic period began about 35,000 years ago and is characterized by the use of flint, stone, tools, hunting, fishing, and gathering. 5) Theodore Ludwig, The Sacred Paths: Understanding the Religions of the World (Simon and Schuster: New Jersey, 1996), pg.30. 6) Starhawk, The Spiral Dance (HarperSanFrancisco: New York, 1989), pg. 19. 7) Deities may manifest themselves as air because they represent the "breath of life. "And the Lord formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life." (Gen 2:7) 8) This excerpt from the Bible is interesting because it suggests that Job sees the Earth as the mother Goddess- the womb of all life, from whence all things are born and to whom all things return in death. 9) "I am the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty." (Rev.1:8) 10) The Sacred Paths: Understanding the Religions of the World, pg. 30. 11)The Sacred Paths, pg. 30.

The following is commentary on the song which I found on the web. I like it because of its parallels with xuanpin imagery. Cohen, finding inspiration for his external art of creating prayer-like songs through connection with xuanpin as the Muse; the Neidan practitioner likewise but internally creating of the Golden Elixir, the true self: Light as the Breeze – While these lyrics draw heavily on images of a relationship between a man and a woman, they are not about sex or the relationship between a man and a woman any more than Moby Dick is a story about fishing. This song is about the creative process: O baby I waited So long for your kiss For something to happen Oh, something like this. In this refrain, Cohen is talking about waiting for the “kiss” of inspiration from the creative Muse that resulted in these lyrics. The medium is truly the message here since the lyrics are about the creative process that goes into writing these very same lyrics. In stanza one (my references here are to each stanza as they appear excluding the above refrain) when the creative muse is present, she provides access to “the universe” (or “intention” or “spirit” or “the mind of God”) without pretence – she appears before you naked but she is ephemeral and elusive – she’s “light as the breeze.” How great or small the insights you get when she opens this portal are up to you but you must recognize who’s in charge – you must be humble. In stanza 2, Cohen kneels “…at the delta / At the alpha and omega” with all its imagery of female anatomy and its references to the cradle of civilization both of which conjure up images of creation and birth. This is where things are created and this is where things end – this is the creative portal. Through this portal, “For something like a second” he is cured and his heart is at ease – he gets the gift of creative access for which he has forgone so much and in which he has invested so much and, as brief as the inspiration is relative to all that he has to go through to receive it, it’s worth it. The reference to “sleeping in your harness” in stanza three refers to the trappings of everyday life that wall you off from the creative process. Wordsworth said in Ode, Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood: “Earth [the temporal, natural world] doth all she can To make her foster-child, her Inmate Man, Forget the glories he hath known, And that imperial palace whence he came.” We sleep-walk in our everyday life while the rich flow of creativity with all its symbolism, insights and meaning is “…the wind going wild in the trees.” Like Wordsworth’s “inmate Man” mankind is not exactly in prison but, like the concept of original sin, we will never be forgiven for losing touch with our spiritual nature – we lost the key. Stanza four recognizes the agony of the creative process where long stretches of effort yield no result – the creative flow is freezing over and Cohen is frustrated. In Stanza five, the creative muse appears again, naked and apparently ready to give Cohen what he wants but that’s just a tease – she’s in control of the process and doesn’t always deliver, even when she makes an appearance. Cohen turns angrily from the muse and the creative process which is both his passion and the bane of his existence. Just as he is giving up, totally discouraged, she appears again, ready to inspire him – she cannot be summoned, she comes and goes as she pleases. In stanza 6, Cohen acknowledges he is a captive to the creative process. The blood on every bracelet may be his blood – the result of subjugating his temporal needs to his pursuit of spiritual or creative enlightenment (“…things undone, worldly activities not attended to…” – from Wordsworth). The muse encourages him to “drink deeply, pilgrim” which, while a religious reference to the Christian sacrament of holy communion is also, in the context of these lyrics, the process of receiving the “sacrament” of creativity (or Spirit). As with the Christian practice of receiving Holy Communion, one must be in a state of “grace” to partake of the creative process which is a fragile one and easily ended if taken for granted. Stanza 7 is a repeat of Stanza 2 followed by the fourth repeat of the refrain to hammer home the reminder that these lyrics are about the process of creating these same lyrics: “O baby I waited / So long for your kiss / For something to happen / Oh, something like this.” And again, Cohen reminds us in Stanza 7 that as brief as the inspiration is relative to all that he gives up to get it, it’s worth it. As long as this creative process results in lyrics like those in this song, I wholeheartedly agree: it’s well worth the effort.

What I get from the above descriptions of xuanpin is that it’s something powerfully vital to inner cultivation but totally inexpressible with words. Ultimately “it has no shape, no direction, and no fixed position”. Like the Dao itself it is mysterious (xuan). Hence the elusive poetic language of many alchemical texts. Taomeow evoked it well when she recently wrote: “the experience [of the true self] is of a kind of interplay between the changing and the unchanged, the created and the uncreated, opening-closing, movement-stillness, wuji-taiji, Xiantian and Houtian, form/substance and no form/no substance, being/nonbeing, manifesting/the unmanifest, individual/universal, and so on. Also, it is an interplay of the energies of the world – an all-encompassing power equal to the power of creation, of nature, of tao itself.” Xuanpin, the conception-portal the true self. I suspect we all have glimpsed it in our own different ways. For me, as a heterosexual and heterospiritual person, this song of Leonard Cohen’s beautifully evokes something of it: Light as the Breeze ~ Leonard Cohen She stands before you naked You can see it, you can taste it And she comes to you light as the breeze Now you can drink it or you can nurse it It don't matter how you worship As long as you're Down on your knees So I knelt there at the delta At the alpha and the omega At the cradle of the river and the seas And like a blessing come from heaven For something like a second I was healed and my heart Was at ease Ah baby I waited So long for your kiss For something to happen Oh something like this And you're weak and you're harmless And you're sleeping in your harness And the wind going wild In the trees And it ain't exactly prison But you'll never be forgiven For whatever you've done With the keys Ah baby I waited So long for your kiss For something to happen Oh something like this It's dark now and it's snowing O my love I must be going The river has started to freeze And I'm sick of pretending I'm broken from bending I've lived too long on my knees Then she dances so graceful And your heart's hard and hateful And she's naked But that's just a tease And you turn in disgust From your hatred and from your love And she comes to you Light as the breeze Ah baby I waited So long for your kiss For something to happen Oh something like this Something like this There's blood on every bracelet You can see it, you can taste it And it's "Please, baby Please baby please" And she says, "Drink deeply, pilgrim But don't forget there's still a woman Beneath this Resplendent chemise" So I knelt there at the delta At the alpha and the omega I knelt there like one who believes And the blessings come from heaven And for something like a second I'm cured and my heart Is at ease

From the Encyclopedia of Taoism: Xuanpin – Mysterious Female Xuanpin is a well-known but enigmatic term first found in Daodejing 6, which states that the Mysterious Female is "the Spirit of the Valley is the root of Heaven (gushen) [that] does not die," and that "its gate….[is] the root of Heaven and Earth." The first chapter of the Liezi equates the Mysterious Female with the transcendental origin that generates things without being generated, and changes them without being changed. Neidan alchemists take the Mysterious Female as the foundation of their art and give it the attributes of Ultimate Truth: like the Dao, they say, there is nothing inside nor outside of it. The Mysterious Female is also the Original Qi (yuanqi), the "full awakening" (yuanjue), and the supreme Non-being that evolves into supreme Being. As a symbol of the Center, it is also called Mysterious Valley (xuangu), Mysterious Pass (xuanguan), Heart of Heaven (tianxin), or Heart (Xin), and is a synonym of the Yellow Dame (huangpo) or the Yellow Court {huangting). It is said to be an opening similar to those made in the body of Emperor Hundun (Chaos) in the anecdote of the Zhuangzi. As a "gate," the xuanpin is a passageway, an entrance situated at the junction of Non-being and Being; it allows Yin and Yang to communicate with each other, and is the place where Yang opens and Yin closes. Indeed, this gate is dual, just as the Center is in Taoism, and therefore suggests the dynamic bipolarity of the world: Xuan, the Mystery, is equated with Heaven, and pin, the Female, with Earth. On the cosmic level, the Mysterious Female stands for what is above and what is below, and is represented by the trigrams qian (pure Yang) and kun (pure Yin). In alchemical language, it is the tripod and the furnace (dinglu), one above (qian or Yang) and the other below (kun or Yin). Some Daoist authors distinguish between an inner Mysterious Female, equated with the Real Qi (zhenqi) and an outer one, equated with the Real Spirit (zhenshen) that "repairs" (bu) the Real Qi; these are also called the inner and outer Medicines (neiyao and waiyao). In term of psycho-physiological entities, the Mysterious Female represents the conjunction of spirit and body. On the bodily level, there have been several interpretations. Following the Laozi Heshang gong zhangju, some authors say xuan alludes to the nose, which corresponds to Heaven, and pin to the mouth which corresponds to Earth. Other texts equate xuan with the upper Cinnabar Field (dantian) or the sinciput, and pin with the lower one near the navel. Still others state that xuanpin designates the space between the two kidneys or the two openings of the heart, which respectively communicate with niwan above and the Ocean of Qi (qihai) below. Neidan writings, however, usually claim that the xuanpin cannot be exactly located in the body: like the Center itself, it has no shape, no direction, and no fixed position.

Thanks for the reference Dwai. I knew the passage Old3Bob quoted came from John Blofeld but I've previously searched and couldn’t find which book of his it’s from. It’s familiar to me because Silent Thunder has posted it on several occasions as part of discussions on various Daoist topics. It’s an insightful interview ….very much worth repeating. (The extract starts from below the picture and Old3Bob’s quotation is from the final paragraph): “In East Asia generally, the notion of a Supreme Being, so essential to Western religions, is replaced by that of a Supreme State of Being, an impersonal perfection from which beings including man are separated only by delusion.” ― John Blofeld, Taoism Tseng Lao-weng: 'You’re going to such trouble to visit me is flattering. How may I best be of service to you?' 'You mean, why have I come, Venerable? I have been longing to meet you ever since I heard our mutual friend describe you as an illumined sage.' Tseng Lao-weng sighed and answered resignedly: 'Why to people talk so? Such words are tedious. You will find no sages here, just this old fellow and four or five other very ordinary men who are students of the Way. It must be disappointing for you.' 'Do not blame Yang Tao-shih, Venerable. He wished only to make me see for myself that Buddhists do not have a monopoly of wisdom.' 'And does seeing an old man distinguished by nothing more than an unusually bushy beard convince you that they do not?' What could I say that would not sound like flattery, which he obviously disliked? "Venerable, it is just that, as most of my teachers are Buddhist, I am ignorant about what Taoists mean by such terms as wisdom and illumination, and about their methods of approaching the Tao.' He laughed. 'How strange. Can there be two kinds of wisdom, two kinds of illumination, Taoist and Buddhist? Surely the experience of truth must be the same for all? As to approaching the Tao, be sure that demons and executioners, let alone Buddhists, are as close to it as can be. The one impossible thing is to get a finger's breadth away from it. Do you suppose that some people -- this old fellow, for example -- are nearer to it than others? Is a bird closer to the air than a tortoise or a cat? The Tao is closer to you than the nose on your face; it is only because you can tweak your nose that you think otherwise. Asking about our approach to the Tao is like asking a deep-sea fish how it approaches the water. It is just a matter of recognizing what has been inside, outside and all around from the first. Do you understand?' 'Yes I believe I do. Certainly my Buddhist teachers have taught me that there is no attaining liberation, but only attaining recognition of what has always been from the first.' 'Excellent, excellent! Your teachers, then, are true sages. You are a worthy disciple, so why brave the bitter cold to visit an ordinary old fellow? You would have learnt as much at your own fireside.' (His harping so much on his being just an ordinary fellow was not due to exaggerated modesty, being a play on the words of which his title, Lao-weng, was composed.) 'Venerable, please don't laugh at me! I accept your teaching that true sages have but the one goal. Still, here in China, there are Buddhists and there are also Taoists. Manifestly they differ; since the goal is one, the distinction must lie in their methods of approach.' 'So you are hungry not for wisdom but for knowledge! What a pity! Wisdom is almost as satisfying as good millet-gruel, whereas knowledge has less body to it than tepid water poured over old tea-leaves; but if that is the fare you have come for, I can give you as much as your mistreated belly will hold. What sort of old tea-leaves do Buddhists use, I wonder! We Taoists use all sorts. Some swallow medicine-balls as big as pigeon's eggs or drink tonics by the jugful, live upon unappetizing diets, take baths at intervals governed by esoteric numbers, breathe in and out like asthmatic dragons, or jump about like Manchu bannermen hardening themselves for battle -- all this discomfort just for a few extra decades of life! And why? To gain more time to find what has never been lost! And what of those pious recluses who rattle mallets against wooden-fish drums from dusk to dawn, groaning out liturgies like cholera-patients excreting watery dung? They are penitents longing to rid themselves of a burden they never had. These people do everything imaginable, including swallowing pills made from the vital fluids secreted by the opposite sex and lighting fires in their bellies to make the alchemic cauldrons boil -- everything, everything except -- sit still and look within. I shall have to talk of such follies for hours, if you really want a full list of Taoist methods. These method-users resemble mountain streams a thousand leagues from the sea. Ah, how they chatter and gurgle, bubble and boil, rush and eddy, plunging over precipices in spectacular fashion! How angrily they pound against the boulders and suck down their prey in treacherous whirl-pools! But, as the streams broaden, they grow quieter and more purposeful. They become rivers -- ah, how calm, how silent! How majestically they sweep towards their goal, giving no impression of swiftness and, as they near the ocean, seeming not to move at all! While noisy mountain streams are reminiscent of people chattering about the Tao and showing-off spectacular methods, rivers remind one of experienced men, taciturn, doing little, but doing it decisively; outwardly still, yet sweeping forward faster than you know. Your teachers have offered you wisdom; then why waste time acquiring knowledge? Methods! Approaches! Need the junk-master steering towards the sea, with the sails of his vessel billowing in the wind, bother his head about alternative modes of propulsion -- oars, paddles, punt-poles, tow-ropes, engines and all the rest? Any sort of vessel, unless it founders or pitches you overboard, is good enough to take you to the one and only sea. Now do you understand?' Indeed I did, though not with a direct understanding firmly rooted in intuitive experience that matched his own; but I pretended to be at a loss, hoping his voice, never far from laughter, would go on and on and on; for, just as his mind when lost in the bliss of meditation had communicated a measure of its joy (on my arrival), so now it was emanating a warmth, a jollity that made me want to laugh, to sing, to dance, to shout aloud that everything is forever as it should be, provided we now and then remember to rub our eyes. ... Tseng Lao-weng's talk of rivers flowing into the ocean had put me in mind of Sir Edwin Arnold's lovely expression of the mystery of Nirvana, 'the dew-drop slips into the shining sea', which I had long accepted as a poetical description of that moment when the seeming-individual, at last free from the shackles of the ego, merges with the Tao -- the Void. This I knew to be an intensely blissful experience, but it was Tseng Lao-weng who now revealed its shining splendour in terms that made my heart leap. Afterwards I wondered whether Sir Edwin Arnold himself had realized the full purport of his words. At a certain moment in our conversation when Tseng Lao-weng paused expectantly, I translated the beautiful line for him and was rewarded by a smile of pleasure and surprise. Eyes glowing, he replied: 'My countrymen are wrong to speak of the Western Ocean People as barbarians. Your poet's simile is penetrating -- exalted! And yet it does not capture the whole; for, when a lesser body of water enters a greater, though the two are henceforth inseparable, the smaller constitutes but a fragment of the whole. But consider the Tao, which transcends both finite and infinite. Since the Tao is All and nothing lies outside it, since its multiplicity and unity are identical, when a finite being sheds the illusion of separate existence, he is not lost in the Tao like a dew-drop merging with the sea; by casting off his imaginary limitations, he becomes immeasurable. No longer bound by the worldly categories, 'part' and 'whole', he discovers that he is coextensive with the Tao. Plunge the finite into the infinite and, though only one remains, the finite, far from being diminished, takes on the stature of infinity. Mere logicians would find fault with this, but if you perceive the hidden meaning you will laugh at their childish cavils. Such perception will bring you face to face with the true secret cherished by all accomplished sages -- glorious, dazzling, vast, hardly conceivable! The mind of one who Returns to the Source thereby becomes the Source. Your own mind, for example, is destined to become the universe itself!'

Reading Taomeow’s post above reminded me of D H Lawrence’s insights into Australian society from when he visited in 1922. He was perplexed by what he saw as an egalitarian society lacking in both the class distinctions that defined social rank in Europe and the wealth distinctions that defined rank in America. He didn’t feel comfortable with it. He found the classless Australia society of that time empty of meaning. Here’s and extract from his novel Kangaroo where he writes about his experience in Australia and gives some insight into old world power structures: Of course he [Lawrence, writing as the character Somers] was bound to admit that they ran their city [Sydney] very well, as far as he could see. Everything was very easy, and there was no fuss. Amazing how little fuss and bother there was—on the whole. Nobody seemed to bother, there seemed to be no policemen and no authority, the whole thing went by itself, loose and easy, without any bossing. No real authority—no superior classes—hardly even any boss. And everything rolling along as easily as a full river, to all appearances. That’s where it was. Like a full river of life, made up of drops of water all alike. Europe is really established upon the aristocratic principle. Remove the sense of class distinction, of higher and lower, and you have anarchy in Europe. Only nihilists aim at the removal of all class distinction, in Europe. But in Australia, it seemed to Somers, the distinction was already gone. There was really no class distinction. There was a difference of money and of “smartness.” But nobody felt better than anybody else, or higher; only better-off. And there is all the difference in the world between feeling better than your fellow man, and merely feeling better-off. Now Somers was English by blood and education, and though he had no antecedents whatsoever, yet he felt himself to be one of the responsible members of society, as contrasted with the innumerable irresponsible members. In old, cultured, ethical England this distinction is radical between the responsible members of society and the irresponsible. It is even a categorical distinction. It is a caste distinction, a distinction in the very being. It is the distinction between the proletariat and the ruling classes. But in Australia nobody is supposed to rule, and nobody does rule, so the distinction falls to the ground. The proletariat appoints men to administer the law, not to rule. These ministers are not really responsible, any more than the housemaid is responsible. The proletariat is all the time responsible, the only source of authority. The will of the people. The ministers are merest instruments. Somers for the first time felt himself immersed in real democracy—in spite of all disparity in wealth. The instinct of the place was absolutely and flatly democratic, à terre democratic. Demos was here his own master, undisputed, and therefore quite calm about it. No need to get the wind up at all over it; it was a granted condition of Australia, that Demos was his own master. Australia is still like this but less so than it was.

Thank you @enuffing for the link. Moeller's excellent philosophical insights shaped my initial understanding of the worldview that is sometimes referred to as classical Daoism. It's a worldview that very much resonates with me. I have read all his books on Daoism and also his two books on Luhmann's systems theory. I highly recommend them all. The other video Moeller has posted on his YouTube channel gives his insights into the Butterfly Dream: Not long after I joined Dao Bums I started a topic on this based on Moeller's interpretation:

With alchemy there’s always been people who work best alone using a synthesis of teachings, and other people who like best to follow closely the teachings of a particular lineage. Although I relate more easily to those people whose disposition leads them towards the former path, I have great respect for anyone for whom inner cultivation is central to their life, regardless of their path and tradition. But I disagree that Neidan (or any other spiritual path) is something that can be systemised to the degree that a person can become fully accomplished through apprenticeship with a gifted teacher. Certainly, I’ve needed to learn the basics of cultivation from teachers, including live-in situations. For instance, I was fortunate enough to learn yangsheng (nourishing life) theory and praxis from an accomplished teacher, and Neidan texts have given me extraordinary help in anchoring and developing my own inner experience. From that basis, and with ongoing openness to learning, I’ve spent decades developing the art of finding my own way using the whole of my life situation as a teacher, including much reading, living within an environment where nature is strong, self-reflection, and plenty of trial and error. Although I’m a complex web of chaotic yin-yang forces, the basic Daoist method is simple. I work at removing blockages preventing my energies flowing in better harmony with Dao. The more I’m able to do so, the more my inner transformation happens ‘self-so’. That’s basic Daoism; ziran and wu wei. We move from complex to simple. And the Dao unfolds within us all in our own unique ways so that we become both profoundly individual and profoundly connected with Dao. Each of us will flower according to our own disposition. Along the way of any individually shaped path, errors are inevitable. And errors are beneficial for inner growth when acknowledged and worked through, toxic when denied. In fact, my most profound learning has come from working through two major episodes of total failure, of devastation. In retrospect, I can see how those episodes were necessary for me to accept at a deep, heart-felt level that any real progress I make is only through my alignment with the heart-mind of Dao (daoxin). At its core, Neidan is a mystery tradition. It’s about connection with something felt inside but which also has objective reality outside and beyond the human; the Divine. Any gifts of insight and powers I obtain along the way belong not to me but to the Dao. I write this because it’s easy to get the impression from popular contemporary teachers such as Damo Mitchell (for whom I have a great deal of respect) that Neidan can be systemised and that anybody using these methods with the sustained effort can ‘obtain’ the Golden Elixir. Such has never been the case all through the long history of both Western and Eastern mystery traditions. These arts have never been egalitarian; only a rare few have ever achieved sublime transcendence. (But many have gained profound benefit as a basis for finding their own unique place within the Dao.) I also think it’s extremely dangerous to manipulate internal qi flows to the extent these contemporary teachers do. They certainly achieve awesome physiological change, but to what end? It seems to me that they are trying to force qi flows using human intent in imitation of how the Dao naturally shapes the qi of those rare few people who have been graced by Nature with the Golden Embryo. In other words, they are not interested in helping students gain insight into their own unique life’s path but rather trying to overwrite people with a standard, one size fits all, Neidan cultivation model. However, not having followed that path, I’ll await with long-term interest to see the results from people I know of who are currently using these methods before forming a definite opinion. In any case, no matter what the result, be it success or failure, such sincere striving will take a person closer to the Dao. Whereas a ‘safe’ but meaningless life following the values of mainstream society is an alternative which can only lead to a slow inner death for those of us with a spiritual calling. Hence, my reservations on the limitations of systemised methodology aside, my bottom-line is one of gratitude that these contemporary western teachers are providing an accessible (and enticing) doorway into some aspects of authentic Daoist life-enhancing pathways.

I was brought up without religion and scorned Christianity when I was young. However, reading Jung introduced me to his insights into Christian mysticism and the profound symbolism of Jesus’s life as mythologised in the Gospels as a parallel of what is also at the spiritual core of alchemical transmutation – Jesus as a symbol of the Self, the Philosopher’s Stone, the Golden Elixir. @freeform Thank you for both your posts that reference me. I very much appreciate the content and especially the intent with which you wrote. As always, you write with great clarity, but I won’t comment further as I’m still in the process of digesting the huge amount of non-verbal feedback I’ve felt since starting this topic. It’s been too much to take in all at once. Pleasingly, I’ve felt a great underlying positivity. And that’s something I wasn’t sure I’d get when I posted my OP. It’s all potentially very helpful for my practice and in ways I never expected. Profoundly so, heart-warmingly so. I put that down to my sincerity of intent and the potency of Dao Bums as a cauldron for alchemical change. My thanks extends to everyone else who has likewise contributed with sincere intent.

Personally, I’d rather deal with a mildly venomous snake while posting than being involved in a discussion with even a mildly venomous member. I’m very open emotionally and can feel that sort of animosity directly. It's something I've been working on developing shields against during my time as a Dao Bums member. However, that sort of openness is vital for my felt connection with Nature, with Spirit. Hence I'm careful about who I engage with. And as a moderator, you’re called on to tackle and pacify some of the worst offenders. Now that’s what I call brave! It’s not a job I could do. BTW One thing I am considered brave for around here is that I stayed and successfully defended all the buildings on my place during the devastating forest fires that swept through here in late 2019. Just about everyone else in the area evacuated including the Rural Fire Service trucks because the approaching fire front was massive and the outlook was dire. The community here extends over an area of about 300 square km and had about 200 dwellings at the time of the fire. Of those 95 were destroyed and so far not many have been rebuilt. Nine out of the 14 houses on the road I live on were lost, including those on the adjoining acreages on both sides of my place. It was one of the worst hit locations. At the time I never considered it as brave. I was well prepared and had no intention of evacuating. I’ve put so much effort into building work in the 22 years I’ve lived here and I knew I was too old to do that again. My pole-framed cabin has so much handcrafted woodwork that it feels alive with qi. It’s the most comfortable and nurturing place I’ve ever lived in. It feels like part of me. And stricter building regulations now make such a place almost impossible to rebuild even if I did have the energy to do so.

Not so brave. These pythons aren’t so big that they’ll strangle a person. And it’s outside. Over the years I’ve lived here I’ve slowly blocked off most of the small gaps around my cabin of which there were dozens. When I first lived here, I had snakes coming inside on a few occasions. I didn’t like that, especially the venomous ones. I remember one time early in my Dao Bums days I was in a discussion with someone and between posts I was trying to catch a mildly venomous snake. I had no net then and ended up jamming its body against a wall and cutting off its head with a large kitchen knife. No fun. I don’t like killing. Even dangerously venomous snakes around my house I try to catch and relocate.

My thanks to everyone for their replies. I’ll come back to @GicuPiticu and @freeform at a later date because today I want some time away from commenting on this topic. Discussion on this forum often moves too fast for the slow, contemplative pace I’d prefer. Also, at this stage I’ve probably said all I want to say in my OP. It’s a beautiful sunny and mild summer’s day here where I live in Australia, perfect for doing things outside. My place is 75 acres, mostly forested. We’ve had plenty of rain this summer and forest is looking lush and green, a far cry from this time last year with the forest blackened by fire and nothing green for tens of kilometres in all directions. However there are many dead trees and although the undergrowth is thriving the forest canopy is still sparse. Nature is sure hard on nature.... Yesterday evening a green tree snake ate one of the big green frogs that live around my cabin. I found it because the frog was making terrible in-distress noises. When I found where it was high up under my cabin eaves, the snake had hold of one of the frog’s legs. Usually I let these dramas take their own course because I've learnt that nature knows best how to care for itself, but this time I couldn't ignore the frog’s plight. I tried to reach up with a pole and scare the snake into releasing the frog. Alas, it wouldn't let go and was so well entangled half in and half out from inside the eave that I couldn't dislodge it. After a couple of attempts I gave up. I thought the frog was much too large for the snake to swallow, but it did so over the next hour. It swallowed it head first. At least the snake will be contentedly well fed now, as is the large python that’s been curled up asleep against the wall of my house for the last few days while digesting its last meal of some luckless small animal.

@GicuPiticu Maybe if you reread my OP you will see that right from the beginning I spoke of my great respect for anyone for whom inner cultivation is central to their life, which I assume from what you write, includes you. I also spoke of my great respect for Damo Mitchell. Although I’ve never met him, I have a couple of his books and have watched a selection of his videos. On that basis I have no doubts as to his authenticity. He comes across as an awesome person. If I was younger and starting out I would very much have liked to train with him. But not now. I have found my own path. And in their various different ways, I think that’s what will happen with Damo’s students as they develop themselves over time. Most will leave off neidan practice yet greatly benefit from the basics they’ve learnt. Some few will stay with Damo’s lineage and become teachers. And fewer still will leave his supervision but continue to develop their own neidan path as the most essential thing in their life.. I agree with what you've written about the importance of authentic teachers. I thought I'd stressed that in my OP when I wrote of the great help I’ve received from various teaching, especially the awesomely gifted yangsheng teacher I spent several years studying with. He guided me wisely onto a qi based path that has fundamentally shaped my life for the last few decades. I’ve needed, and also greatly value, all the other various teachings I’ve received over the decades. And, of course, I still need teachings, albeit they are perhaps of a more subtle kind now – but not always. Incidentally, I don’t see myself as on the top of a mountain looking down at lesser beings. Far from it. I’ve made too many mistakes and been too humbled by my own folly to position myself in that way. I live in a small forested valley with a river running through it. It’s sparsely populated by humans but has an abundance of wildlife. My dwelling is a rustic pole-framed cabin which I’ve substantially built myself. I live a semi-reclusive lifestyle. And that whole scenario could well be the image I have of my practice, of my place within the Dao. From the tone of your response I get the impression you want to provoke an argument. You won’t get that from me. I’m too old and don’t have the energy for it. Dao Bums is the only social media I use and I’ve gained much from my interaction here. What I wrote in my OP is my truth. When I write something on Dao Bums I’m very interested in the feedback I get, especially outside and beyond the words. That way I get insight into otherwise hidden aspects of my psyche and of my false assumptions. I hope that your interaction here also helps you with your practice.

It seems to me from reading a number of your comments on this and other topics that you are doing fine with your life. I thought perhaps you may find these words of Carl Jung’s, from a letter he wrote to to Father Victor White, relevant to your situation, especially the second paragraph: “If I find myself in a critical or doubtful situation, I always ask myself whether there is not something in it, explaining the need of my presence, before I make a plan of how to escape. If I should find nothing hopeful or meaningful in it, I think I would not hesitate to jump out of it as quick as possible. Well, I may be all wrong, but the fact that you find yourself in the Church does not impress me as being wholly nonsensical. Of course huge sacrifices are expected of you, but I wonder whether there is any vocation or any kind of meaningful life that does not demand sacrifices of a sort. There is no place where those striving for consciousness could find absolute safety. Doubt and insecurity are indispensable components of a complete life. Only those who can lose this life can really gain it. A ‘complete’ life does not consist of a theoretical completeness, but the fact that one accepts without reservation the particular fatal tissue in which one finds oneself embedded, and that one tries to make sense of it or to create a cosmos from the chaotic mess into which one is born. If one lives properly and completely, time and time again one will be confronted with situations of which one will say, ‘This is too much, I cannot bear it anymore.’ Then the question must be answered: ‘Can one really not bear it?’”

I would hope it's obvious to everyone that you're the antithesis of that sort of moderator. This forum is so obviously a place where quality, meaningful, and sometimes vigorous spiritual discussion takes place that your comment scarcely needs a reply.

Bindi, I appreciate that that response comes from your heart, but I think it’s unfair on Trunk. Although I’m not privy to what goes on here behind the scenes, I do know that Trunk was initially reluctant to take on an active role in dealing with the rancour that was threating to kill this forum as a place of meaningful discussion during the period when there was no moderation. It's not a pleasant task to make the difficult decisions about disciplining members but it needed someone to do so. And Trunk did it despite the fact that he no longer wanted an active role here, perhaps not perfectly but good enough to set this forum on its current trajectory which I like very much. Although Ideally, I’d like a less strongly left-wing bias, the reality is that in the current political climate that doesn’t work. My concern was that the forum may lack vitality under the new rules, but that’s clearly not the case. Discussion here is excellent and, in any case, I’d much rather have smaller amounts of quality discussion than a greater quantity of discussion of dubious value. As to why he removed Apech from staff, that something for him to explain (or not), but I do consider a comment like yours makes it very difficult for him to reconsider. And that’s unfortunate. (But I see now as I write this that Apech no longer wants the role, so this discussion of mine is largely moot.)

The Learner originally included Apech on the moderator team but @Trunk removed him for personal reasons. I would dearly like it if Trunk could reconsider as, to my mind, having Apech on staff would be of great benefit to this forum.

The best overview of Waidan and Neidan that I’ve come across is written by Fabrizio Pregadio and is available here as a free pdf download: https://www.goldenelixir.com/files/The_Way_of_the_Golden_Elixir.pdf

Thanks dmattwads. Both the Pinyin and Wade-Giles Romanisation of 外 are the same, namely wai.

The correct term is Waidan. I'm surprised no one has mentioned this. From Wikipedia: The Chinese compound wàidān combines the common word wài 外 "outside; exterior; external" with dān 丹 "cinnabar; vermillion; elixir; alchemy". The antonym of wài is nèi 內 meaning "inside; inner; internal", and the term wàidān 外丹 "external elixir/alchemy" was coined in connection with the complementary term nèidān "internal elixir/alchemy".

Thank you Michael, especially for stepping in when you did and working with Trunk to build the new team of moderators. I very much appreciate the effort you and all the moderators have made in helping to restore health to this forum. Although mine is a comparatively silent presence here, Dao Bums plays a vital part in my personal practice.

I get the impression from Sketch’s OP and from Ghostexorcist’s blog that they both treat Journey to the West in such a manner of respect. I have previously only read Arthur Waley’s abridged translation, Monkey and didn’t regard it in this light. I found it very insightful of Chinese mythology and also an amusing satire on social and spiritual pretence. Over time, I’ll explore those more recent translations by Anthony C. Yu. My thanks to both Sketch and especially Ghostexorcist for reminding me of this work's greater depth. And to Liu Yiming for his strong reminder of the reverent attitude that’s so necessary to gain true insight into the spiritual realms; a reminder to listen with more with my heart, and less with my intellect.

From a Jungian interpretive perspective, this picture reveals how the ego of the artist feels in relation to its shadow. And the ego is in a very precarious position indeed. It takes great courage to confront the totality of oneself rather than to continually project the shadow into the outer world. Without at least an inkling of such acceptance there can be no basis for any real compassion and humility about what it means to be human.