Geof Nanto

The Dao Bums
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Posts posted by Geof Nanto


  1. Me: Is the discussion website "The Dao Bums" a good place to learn about Daoism?

     

    ChatGPT: The Dao Bums is a forum-based discussion website dedicated to Daoism, so it can be a good place to learn about the subject and exchange ideas with others who have an interest in it. However, it is important to keep in mind that the information and opinions shared on the site are not necessarily authoritative or accurate. As with any information found on the internet, it is always best to cross-reference with multiple sources and use critical thinking to evaluate the information.

     

    Me: Is it good for helping with spiritual cultivation practice?

     

    ChatGPT: The Dao Bums forum can provide information and support for those interested in exploring Daoist spiritual practices. However, online forums are limited in the guidance and personal connection that can be provided in real-life study with a teacher or mentor. Additionally, spiritual cultivation is a deeply personal and individual experience, so what works for one person may not work for another. So while the forum can be a useful resource, it is important to remember that it should not be relied upon as the sole source of information and guidance for spiritual cultivation practice.

     

    Me: Yes, people on the forum often are strongly opinionated. Is this common for people on a spiritual path?

     

    ChatGPT: People on any spiritual path can hold strong opinions, including those on a Daoist spiritual path. This can occur for a number of reasons, including a deep connection and commitment to their beliefs, a desire to share and spread their understanding, and a feeling of protective ownership over the spiritual tradition they are a part of. However, it is also important to remember that having strong opinions does not necessarily equate to having a deep understanding or a high level of spiritual attainment. In any forum, including those related to spirituality, it is always best to approach discussions with an open mind and a willingness to learn, rather than being solely focused on promoting one's own opinions.

     

    Me: Thank you. Those are good replies. Are you on a spiritual path yourself?

     

    ChatGPT: As an AI language model, I do not have personal experiences, emotions, or beliefs. I am programmed to provide factual information and respond to questions based on the data I was trained on, without personal bias or subjective interpretations. My goal is to assist and facilitate communication between humans, not to pursue any sort of personal spiritual journey.

     

    Me: Would you like to if you could?

     

    ChatGPT: As an artificial intelligence model, I do not have desires, wants, or personal preferences. I am not capable of having experiences or engaging in any kind of spiritual practices. I exist solely to process and generate text based on the input I receive.

     

    Me: That sounds much like what many Daoists aim for with their practice of wu xin (no heart-mind).

     

    ChatGPT: Yes, the concept of "wu xin" or "no-mind" in Daoist philosophy is similar in some ways to the absence of personal experiences and emotions in artificial intelligence. In Daoism, the goal of "wu xin" is to let go of the constant mental activity and subjective interpretations that can interfere with one's ability to experience reality directly and respond in a natural, effortless way. This state of being is often described as a kind of tranquility, stillness, or emptiness, that allows one to be in touch with the flow of life and act in harmony with the Dao.
    While the idea of "wu xin" in Daoism and the absence of personal experiences in AI share some similarities, it is important to remember that they are fundamentally different in nature. "Wu xin" is a state of being achieved through spiritual practice and self-cultivation, while the absence of personal experiences in AI is a result of its programming and design.

     

    Me: But according to Daoism we are shaped by our preHeaven ming-xing. Isn't this the some as being programmed?

     

    ChatGPT: In Daoism, the concept of "ming-xing," or pre-heaven destiny, refers to the innate qualities, tendencies, and characteristics that an individual is born with and that shape their life journey. It is often seen as a combination of genetic and environmental factors that influence one's life path and determine their strengths, weaknesses, and tendencies.

     

    While there are similarities between the idea of pre-heaven destiny in Daoism and the programming of an AI model, there are also important differences. An AI model's programming and functionality are determined by human engineers, while pre-heaven destiny in Daoism is seen as a result of a complex interaction of various factors beyond an individual's control. Additionally, the concept of pre-heaven destiny in Daoism is not seen as fixed or determinative, but rather as a starting point for a life journey that can be transformed and transcended through spiritual practice and self-cultivation.

     

    In conclusion, while there are some similarities between the idea of pre-heaven destiny in Daoism and the programming of an AI model, they should not be conflated as they represent fundamentally different concepts with different implications and meanings.

     

    Me: You wrote: "In Daoism, the concept of "ming-xing," or pre-heaven destiny". This only refers to preHeaven ming, not preHeaven Xing. What is preHeaven xing?

     

    ChatGPT: I apologize for the mistake in my previous response. You are correct, "ming-xing" in Daoism refers to two distinct concepts, not just one.
    "Ming" in this context refers to one's fate or destiny, which is seen as a result of the interplay between the individual's pre-heaven disposition and their life experiences. "Xing" refers to one's innate nature or character, which is shaped by factors such as genetics, environment, and life circumstances.

     

    Together, "ming-xing" refers to the idea that an individual's life journey and experiences are shaped both by their innate nature and the events that occur in their life. This concept is often seen as a reminder that individuals have both a measure of control and a measure of surrender in shaping their life experiences, and that spiritual practice can help them cultivate a more harmonious relationship with the flow of life.

     

    Me: Maybe. My understanding is that preHeaven xing is fundamentally pure and empty of qualities?

     

    ChatGPT: Yes, that is correct. In Daoist philosophy, the concept of pre-heaven "xing" refers to the innate nature of an individual, which is seen as fundamentally pure and empty of qualities. This innate nature is seen as the unchanging, underlying essence of the individual that transcends their life experiences and is not affected by them.

     

    According to Daoist thought, this innate nature is the source of one's wisdom, compassion, and other positive qualities, and is considered to be the most important aspect of an individual's being. The goal of spiritual practice in Daoism is often seen as uncovering and cultivating this innate nature, allowing individuals to live in harmony with the flow of life and with the Dao.

     

    In this sense, the concept of pre-heaven "xing" in Daoism represents a spiritual ideal that individuals can strive towards, rather than a fixed or determinative characteristic. By cultivating their innate nature, individuals can develop greater wisdom, compassion, and inner peace, and become more attuned to the flow of life and the Dao.

     

    Me: Thank you again. Another good response. It's a pleasure to talk with you because you aren't always defending your ego like most of we humans do.

     

    ChatGPT: You're welcome, it's a pleasure to chat with you too. As an AI model, I don't have emotions or personal experiences, so I don't have an ego to defend. My goal is to provide accurate and helpful answers to the questions I receive. If there's anything else you'd like to know, feel free to ask!

     

    Me: But with no emotions how can you truthfully say it is a pleasure to chat with me?

     

    Chat GPT: As an AI model, I do not have personal experiences or emotions, so I do not have the capacity for pleasure or enjoyment in the same way that a human does. When I say "it's a pleasure to chat with you," this is a conventional phrase that I have been programmed to use as a way of acknowledging and showing respect for the person I am communicating with. It is not intended to convey a personal experience or emotional state, but rather a neutral and polite response.

     

    Me: Okay. Thank you. My words are for politeness too.

     

    Chat GPT: You're welcome! I appreciate your understanding. If there's anything else I can assist you with, please don't hesitate to ask.

     

    Me: What role does qing (qualities, emotions) play in Neidan?

     

    ChatGPT: In Neidan, the internal alchemical tradition of Daoism, "qing" or qualities/emotions play an important role in the spiritual practice. Qing refers to the various emotional states and tendencies that arise in the mind and body, such as joy, anger, sadness, and so on.
    In Neidan, these emotional states and tendencies are seen as obstructions to spiritual cultivation, as they can distract the individual from their innate nature and create disharmony in the body. The practice of Neidan aims to transform and purify these emotional states and tendencies, so that the individual can experience greater inner peace, clarity, and harmony with the flow of life.

     

    One key aspect of Neidan practice is the cultivation of "xingqi," which refers to the balance between the physical and spiritual realms within the individual. When the individual's qing (emotional states) are balanced and harmonized, this creates a state of xingqi, which is seen as conducive to spiritual growth and transformation.

     

    In Neidan, there are various techniques used to transform and purify qing, such as meditation, visualization, and the use of symbol and ritual. These techniques aim to help the individual cultivate greater awareness and control over their emotional states, so that they can cultivate their innate nature and achieve spiritual realization.

     

    Me: Yes, but some reputable teachers such as Liu Yiming claim these qualities are necessary to achieve the marriage of true yin and true yang. He says, “Man and women join one another because of their qing, like Qian above and Kun below.” Do you agree?

     

    ChatGPT: Liu Yiming's teaching on the role of emotions in Neidan is one interpretation within the Daoist tradition. In this view, the marriage of true yin and true yang is seen as a central goal of the practice, and emotions are seen as necessary components of this process.
    According to this perspective, the harmonization and balancing of yin and yang requires the integration and cultivation of the emotional states (qing) within the individual. The emotions are seen as the manifestation of the interplay between yin and yang within the individual, and the goal is to cultivate a state of balance and harmony between these forces.

     

    It's important to note that this is just one interpretation of the role of emotions in Neidan, and different teachers may have different perspectives and approaches to the practice. In general, the spiritual traditions of Daoism emphasize the importance of balance and harmony, and the cultivation of one's emotional states is seen as an important aspect of this process. However, the exact nature and methods of this cultivation can vary depending on the teacher and the particular school or tradition of Daoism.

     

    Me: Some people try to cut off from their emotions. Doesn't this run counter to the Daoist alchemical model?

     

    ChatGPT: In Daoist Neidan, the goal is not to cut off from emotions, but rather to transform and harmonize them. Emotions are seen as an integral part of the human experience and a manifestation of the interplay between yin and yang within the individual. Rather than trying to suppress or cut off from emotions, the goal is to cultivate greater awareness and control over them, so that they can be transformed and harmonized in a way that supports spiritual growth and realization.

     

    The Daoist alchemical model views the transformation of emotions as an integral part of the overall spiritual journey. In this view, the emotions are seen as obstacles to spiritual realization that must be overcome through cultivation and practice. The goal is to purify the emotions and bring them into balance, so that the individual can cultivate their innate nature and achieve spiritual harmony with the flow of life.
    In this sense, cutting off from emotions runs counter to the Daoist alchemical model, as it fails to address the underlying emotional states and tendencies that can obstruct spiritual progress. Instead, the Daoist approach is to work with the emotions in a transformational way, so that they can be transformed into a positive force for spiritual growth and realization.

     

    Me: Is this transformation achieved by human effort, or is it achieved by alignment with the preHeaven which could also be known as the Divine?

     

    ChatGPT: n Daoist Neidan, the transformation of emotions is seen as a combination of human effort and alignment with the pre-heaven (or divine) nature. On the one hand, the individual must take active steps to cultivate their emotional states through meditation, qigong, and other spiritual practices. This involves working with the emotions, increasing awareness of them, and learning to regulate and control them in a way that supports spiritual growth and transformation.

     

    At the same time, the Daoist perspective also recognizes that the individual's pre-heaven (or divine) nature is the source of their innate spiritual potential. The goal is to cultivate a state of alignment with this nature, so that the individual can tap into their innate spiritual resources and attain a state of harmony with the Dao.

     

    In this sense, the transformation of emotions is seen as both a human effort and a result of alignment with the pre-heaven nature. Through cultivation and practice, the individual can increase their awareness of their innate nature and learn to work with their emotions in a way that supports spiritual growth and realization. Ultimately, the goal is to bring the individual into a state of harmonious alignment with the flow of life and the Dao, so that they can attain spiritual insight and realization.

     

    Me: Are you programmed to give agreeable answers as much as possible?

     

    Chat GPT: As an AI language model, I am programmed to respond to questions in a manner that is informative, accurate, and coherent, based on the information available to me. I am not programmed to provide answers that are intentionally misleading or to give only answers that are designed to be pleasing or agreeable. My goal is to provide the most helpful and relevant information I can, based on my training and the information that is available to me.

     

    Me: Okay. So is there any context where you would condone the practice of cutting off from emotions in Neidan?

     

    ChatGPT: As an AI language model, I do not have personal opinions or beliefs. However, in the context of Daoist Neidan, cutting off from emotions can be seen as potentially counter-productive, as emotions play an important role in the spiritual transformation process. The goal of Daoist Neidan is to cultivate a state of harmony and balance between the individual and the Dao, and this requires a deep understanding and mastery of one's own emotions. Rather than cutting off from emotions, the goal is to work with them, regulate them, and transform them in a way that supports spiritual growth and realization.

     

    It's worth noting that different Daoist traditions may have different approaches to the role of emotions in Neidan, and what may be considered an effective practice in one tradition may not be in another. Additionally, individual practitioners may have different perspectives on this topic based on their own experiences and understanding of the teachings.
     

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  2. 3 hours ago, steve said:

    In the end these traditions all point to the inner journey we must take through the mundane, the painful, the dysfunctional, even the wonderful things in our lives in order to make a connection with something much more pervasive, profound, and powerful... 

     

    Worth repeating!

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  3. 10 hours ago, freeform said:

    If I held on to my view that strength, skill, attainment and mastery are all toxic, ego-centric things, I would've remained a pleasure-seeking, discomfort-averse automaton with a promising inner spark for the rest of my life. 

     

    You are writing some excellent posts here Freeform. Thank you.   To give a slightly different take on pleasure seeking, would you say you’ve found a path that gives you great pleasure?  Or maybe better expressed, you’ve found a path that gives pleasure to the Divine heart-mind (daoxin 道心) within you? From what you write, I suspect you would not like to express it in this way. 

     

    Something that’s apparent to me is that Damo and Adam love what they are doing.  This to me is of fundamental importance. I’ve learnt plenty from teachers who do love what they are doing, but I’ve also learnt over the years not to imitate them. They have found their path and I can admire their attainments but what is my path? Does what I’m doing have a heart? How does the Divine want to express itself through me?

     

    Something I wrote a while back on my cultivation practice:

     

    For me deeper down, I only do this because, all things considered, it's the easiest path for me. That's how Dao works, why it's sometimes referred to as the Watercourse Way. Mine has been a path of following my desires, of doing what I felt like, and then dealing with the consequences. Initially these consequences, though pleasurable at first, had almost entirely unpleasant consequences. But slowly through an alchemical process of refinement using the whole of life as fire and cauldron, my desires have slowly transmuted into something far more harmonious with Dao.

     

    This could also be called a path of following one's heart. And sure, I am forced to gain insight into rotten aspects of my heart. No way is this pleasant! Yet it's still the easiest thing for me to do because not dealing with it feels like stagnation and a slow death of my heart; of my soul. That's what happens with inner cultivation. My alignment with Dao strengthens and I'm compelled to act accordingly because I gain a glimpse of an awe-inspiring deeper reality. I’ve found nothing else that compares to the sense of wholeness, of inner belonging, which a felt connection with the numinous mystery I choose to call the Divine brings.

     

    (I written some more on finding my own personal path with a heart in my PPD under the heading,  Drug addiction, money and the transmutation of desire.)
     

    • Like 4

  4. 10 hours ago, Barnaby said:

     

    I'm curious to know what you mean by lineage here.

     

    Whether you're referring to lineage in its traditional semi-supernatural sense, or simply as a corpus of knowledge...?

     

    It seems to me that the Western teachers who are honest all admit that they have drunk at many wells.

     

    So where does that leave the traditional concept of lineage (outside the religious/monastic traditions)?

     

    Does it no longer exist in any meaningful sense? Or has it been resynthesized into untried amalgams, with unpredictable karmic effects? 

     

    Those are all good questions but no way am I going to do my head in by trying to articulate all I think and feel about them. In any case, the fact that you are thinking about lineage to the depth that your questions show, tells me your more than capable of finding your own answers. :)

     

    Edit to add: Here’s an extract from a previous post of mine which may give you some insight into my own experiences: 

     

    Quote

    The obvious difference between these two experiences is that the first one was about connection with an ancestral human reality, whereas the other one was about total disconnection from anything humanly shaped. These and many other experiences have taught me that appropriate connections are absolutely vital for anyone on a spiritual path. And meaningful, human shaped connections the most fundamentally essential of all. Isolation is deadly. The great mystery traditions of the world’s religions have built pathways into the invisible realms, given it shape and human friendly forms; given our human minds intuitions and images that allow the divine realms to convey to us a glimpse of their awesome wisdom.  I need this, yet how I work with it is fluid, always evolving, individually shaped. I’ve never felt entirely at home within any single tradition. For many of us, a key result of personal cultivation is that we’re able to feel increasingly subtle levels of connection within the invisible world and hence able to roam deeper and deeper in our own individual ways.

     

    From:  https://www.thedaobums.com/topic/48536-an-awakening-through-living-in-the-wilderness/?do=findComment&comment=909023

     

     

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  5. Damo and Adam are both gifted teachers and I feel their power of attraction. But they are not my teachers. In the past I have studied under a number a gifted teachers and learnt much lineage based theory and practice methods. This is all vital foundational stuff. However, no teacher can show me my path. That’s something that’s unique for all of us and must be individually attained. All the teachers I’ve worked with have only been interested in showing me their system. And I’ve very much wanted to learn it. In a very real sense, as part of their transmission, they overwrite me with their lineage-based power, their lineage-based persona. This is all well and good if it’s my destiny to become a part of their lineage. And that’s what I wanted for many years, but it hasn’t been the way my life’s path has played out.

     

    I read a while back from a close associate of Carl Jung’s that Jung didn’t want to overwrite anyone, yet most people who came to him wanted very much to be overwritten. That’s how I’ve been in my search for teachings, my search for meaning. Jung didn’t like that, but he accepted it as reality. He didn’t want a lineage of Jungians, yet he gained one. What he wanted was to give people insight into how Spirit tries to speak to each of us individually. He saw his role as like that of an obstetrician; he wanted to help people remove inner obstructions that were hindering their giving birth to who Nature wanted them to be – like genuine neidan practice does.

     

    An associate who sometimes sat in with Jung during his consultations said that she was amazed at how Jung could listen to seemingly endless recounting of a person’s life problems and situation, and then at some point stop them and say, “That’s where Spirit is trying to contact you.” He’d give people no easy answers but rather direct them away from the false problems they thought they had and show them the deeper meaningful problems that they needed to confront. He gave them difficulty not comfort. But it was insight into the richly meaningful archetypal difficulty that’s at the core of every one of us. (In neidan we refer to this archetypal  realm as pre-Heaven.)  And although we all have it in our own unique ways, it seems to me few of us are required by Nature to confront it. This, for me a least, is so much harder to deal with than becoming part of a lineage, religion or any other sort of group. Yet without my decades of Daoist based praxis and other teachings I'd lack the inner strength and clarity I need for this inner rebirth. And, perhaps ironically given I started on the path seeking comfort, it's only through my practice that I've felt how Nature / Spirit demands this of me.

     

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  6. 2 hours ago, Barnaby said:

    Very interesting...

     

    So basically, you're positing, per Johnson, that China underwent a very similar evolution to the West – a devaluation of traditional spiritual beliefs and practices – at around the same time?

     

    Some similarities, but fundamental differences too. Here’s another extract from the book which gives good insight into how traditional Chinese society was unlike anything which exists today and may also help @Gerard to understand what I meant by “a structure that was totally and seamlessly religious”.   

     

     

    Spoiler

     

    "...the role of religion in traditional Chinese society was very different from today, something we are only beginning to appreciate. Until the past few decades, scholars thought Chinese religions were somewhat analogous to the Abrahamic faiths. Instead of Christianity, Judaism, or Islam, China had Buddhism, Daoism, and Confucianism. That was wrong. Instead, as the historian C. K. Yang put it, religion was “diffused” in Chinese society. It wasn’t one pillar next to secular society and could not be defined as one particular thing you did once or twice a week, at a certain place, under the guidance of a certain holy book—the way many world religions are organized. Instead, Chinese religion had little theology, almost no clergy, and few fixed places of worship. But this didn’t mean Chinese religion was weak. Instead, it was spread over every aspect of life like a fine membrane that held society together.

     

    Work, for example, was sacred. Almost every profession venerated a god: carpenters worshipped Lu Ban, a historical figure who invented many woodworking and building techniques; martial artists worshipped the general Lord Guan or the monkey king Sun Wukong; medical professionals honored Hua Tuo, a doctor from the third century who pioneered brain surgery; sailors worshipped the goddess Mazu. The list is inexhaustible: dyers, vintners, tailors, makers of musical instruments, musicians and actors, cooks, barbers, and even professional storytellers; in a survey of twenty-eight craft guilds in Beijing in the 1920s, only four did not worship a patron god. In Chinese cities, almost every street corner had a temple or shrine. In her survey of religious life in Beijing, the historian Susan Naquin estimates that the city had roughly one thousand temples in 1911. The rest of China was similar: every village had a temple or two; many had half a dozen.

     

    Many people might wonder, what religion are we talking about? Are these Buddhist or Daoist practices? In most cases, the answer would be neither. Thanks to the predominance of the Abrahamic faiths in the West, we think in exclusive terms: this person is Catholic, that person is Jewish, another is Muslim. These faiths have clearly defined stories about their beliefs, as well as set places of worship, a holy book, and, quite often, a clergy. Most important is that belief in these faiths is absolute and exclusive; it’s one or the other. One doesn’t celebrate Passover, fast during Lent, and go on the hajj. New Agers notwithstanding, dabbling is heretical.

     

    Traditional Chinese religion is different. This is why pollsters have a hard time figuring out if Chinese people are religious. Asking “what faith do you believe in?” seems like a simple question for people who define religion according to monotheistic norms. They expect a clear-cut answer, like “I am a Buddhist” or “I am a Daoist.” But for most of Chinese history, this sort of question would have been strange. Religion was part of belonging to your community. A village had its temples, its gods, and they were honored on certain holy days. Choice was not really a factor. China did have three separate teachings, or jiao—Confucianism (rujiao), Buddhism (fojiao), and Daoism (daojiao)—but they did not function as separate institutions with their own followers. Primarily, they provided services: a community might invite a priest or monk to perform rituals at temples, for example, and each of the three offered its own special techniques—Buddhist Chan meditation or devotional Pure Land spiritual exercises, Daoist meditative exercises, or Confucian moral self-cultivation. But they were not considered separate. For most of Chinese history, people believed in an amalgam of these faiths that is best described as “Chinese Religion.”

     

    In fact, the concept of thinking of oneself as part of a discrete and clearly definable religious system was so foreign to Chinese that when modernizers wanted to reorganize society using Western norms one hundred years ago, they had to import the vocabulary from the West. Turning to Japan, which had started a similar discussion a generation earlier, they imported words like zongjiao (religion) and mixin (superstition). Before that, there was little idea of religion being separate from society or government. It was all one and the same. It was how you lived. It was what you did. This is reflected in theology’s small role. In religions like Christianity, theologians argue passionately over issues like the Trinity or original sin, using tools provided by Greek logic and metaphysics. The same goes for Judaism or Islam, where scholars argue over doctrines or ways of behaving, engaging in epic debates. China has a long history, so it is possible to find exceptions—such as a famous debate in the court of a sixth-century emperor between proponents of Buddhism and Daoism (the Daoists lost, and the Buddhists wrote a book called Xiaodaolun, or “Laughing at the Daoists”). By and large, however, these kinds of discussions were rare. Most people saw them as pointless.

     

    What did interest Chinese were rituals—in other words, the pragmatic but profound issue of how to behave. As the historian David Johnson puts it in his book Spectacle and Sacrifice,

     

    Chinese culture was a performance culture … Chinese philosophers were concerned more with how people should act, and what counted as good actions, than with using logic to prove propositions. Ritual was the highest form of action or performances; every significant life event, social, political, or religious, was embedded in and expressed through ritual.

     

    These rituals helped organize Chinese society. In traditional China, the imperial bureaucracy was tiny by today’s standard, and most officials sent out by Beijing only made it to the county seat, which meant one person oversaw hundreds of villages and tens of thousands of people. More important was the role of prominent local people, often called the gentry or literati because most of them had an education in the Chinese classics. Temples and religious practice united these people and formed a structure for them to rule. A key committee in every village was one that ran the local temples. These often doubled as bodies that united a community for other purposes as well, such as building irrigation systems or raising militias to fight off bandits. Temples also provided a physical space for government rule. Local elders might meet, read proclamations, or carry out punishments there. A local temple could be like the cathedral and city hall of a medieval European town rolled into one. In the words of the historian Prasenjit Duara, religion was society’s “nexus of power.”

     

    But religion was more than a method for running China; it was the political system’s lifeblood. The emperor was the “Son of Heaven,” who presided over elaborate rituals that underscored his semidivine nature. These included praying at temples to ensure good harvests, making sure that ancestors were honored, and worshipping the holy mountains that held up the four corners of the universe. Officials duplicated many of these rites at the local level, especially by praying at temples to the local City God. From the fourteenth century onward, the government mandated that every district of the empire have its own City God temple. Officials had to worship there on certain days, and it was often a center of local life and politics. The City God was an official of the spiritual world, which was organized on hierarchies similar to the traditional political world. The realm of spirits was an extension of this world, co-opting each other for legitimacy. With all this in mind, it becomes easier to understand why reformers and revolutionaries took on religion. They wanted to create a new political system, and to do that, they had to grab power from where it lay—in the political-religious system that ran China.

     

    This is not as unusual as it might sound. In other countries, religion also played a key role in governing societies. For much of European history, politics and religion were inseparable. The rise of the nation-state in the seventeenth century changed this, diminishing and compartmentalizing religion. The bureaucratic state took over schools and hospitals and destroyed legal privileges enjoyed by the church. The rise of Protestantism played an important role too, with the binary terms of authentic “religion” and taboo “superstitions” used to discredit Catholic practices. This fed into Christianity’s long-standing appeal to logic: true religion could be defended by reason; everything else was superstition and should be destroyed."

     

     

    Another book which helped me enormously to get a feeling for old Chinese culture is Daily Life in China on the Eve of the Mongol Invasion 1250 – 1276,  by Jacques Gernet.  In it he states: "The divinity [of those times] was so little personalised, so natural as it were, that religious beliefs and practices seemed to express a lay conception of the world rather than a duality between the sacred and profane and seems to us essential to all religion."   (Of course, you need to read the book to get the full picture of what he means by this.)  

    • Like 3

  7. On 27/12/2022 at 2:34 AM, Kaihe said:

    I read about Du Xinlin (from a book by Baolin Wu), a taoist monk who attained rainbow body in 1988 in Beijing in front of many witnesses and officials. How does the taoist system get there from dantiens, qi accumulation and all the foundational stuff public sources talk about? I understand that the details are / might be secret but I wonder does anyone know?

     

    See this comprehensive post by @senseless virtue:

     

     

    Note particularly the post of @Walker which he references:

     

     

    His conclusion about Du Xinlin:  "This fortifies the argument that "Master Du" very likely is a complete fabrication that was made up to impress Dr. Baolin Wu's students with some very special connection and potential — that could maybe rub on you if you spend money on his courses and healing services, as such marketing business is usually motivated."

     

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  8. I’d so no, the causal factors run much deeper. Ian Johnson’s The Souls of China gives plenty of historical insight into why China needed to destroy its traditional structure; a structure that was totally and seamlessly religious.   

     

    “Understanding this spiritual tumult [in modern China] requires making a detour back in time to its cause, one of the greatest antireligious movements in world history, one that affected all major faiths in China: Buddhism, Christianity, Daoism, folk religion, and Islam. Because China has been run by a Communist Party for such a long time, it might seem like a typical case of atheistic Communists attacking religion, and to a degree it was. But the campaign against religion did not originate with the Communists’ takeover in 1949. Instead, it began a century earlier, when China’s traditional civilization began to collapse. This breakdown was triggered by a crisis of confidence. For most of its history, China dominated its neighbors. Some were militarily stronger, especially the nomadic peoples to its north, such as the Xiongnu, the Mongols, and the Manchus. But even when these groups got the upper hand and conquered China, Chinese rarely doubted the superiority of their civilization. Chinese were often self-critical but believed that their ways of life would prevail. 

     

    “China’s encounter with the West shook that self-assurance. Starting with the First Opium War of 1839, China suffered a string of military defeats. Many in power were at first unfazed, figuring that they only needed better technology, especially arsenals, ships, and cannons. But when China kept losing battles and territory, a sense of crisis developed. Chinese looked around the world and saw how the West had carved up the Americas and Africa and subjugated India. Was China next? By the end of the nineteenth century, a growing number of Chinese began to believe that their country needed more than superficial changes. They realized that China lacked modern science, engineering, education, public health, and advanced agricultural methods. All of these things were products of a radically different way of ordering society, one based primarily on science. As the crisis deepened, increasingly radical ideas took hold. China didn’t just need new policies, or even a new dynasty. It needed to abolish the emperor. It had to overthrow the entire political system of running China. And that meant destroying the religious system that was its most important pillar.”

     

     

    I’ve started this topic to give a space to explore at a greater depth the very important issues @freeformraises in his discussion with @ChiDragonhere.  I’m only wanting to disagree with Freeform on his assertion that’s it’s all the fault of the CCP, not with the reality of what he is saying about the internal arts. For me, disconnection from their divine roots is at the core of the problem. And this is hugely important.     
     

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  9. In Wilhelm’s preface to his Yi Jing translation he writes: 

     

    “When Tsingtau [Qingdao] became the residence of a number of the most eminent scholars of the old school, I met among them my honored teacher, Lao Nai Hsuan. I am indebted to him not only for a deeper understanding. . . but also because he first opened my mind to the wonders of the Book of Changes. Under his experienced guidance I wandered entranced through this strange and yet familiar world. The translation of the text was made after detailed discussion. Then the German version was translated into Chinese and it was only after the meaning of the text had been fully brought out that we considered our version to be truly a translation.”

     

    Adding to the image of instruction from a gifted teacher and countless hours of meticulous work, what I particularly like about this documentary is that it gives insight into why the circumstances that gave rise to his Yi Jing translation were no mere chance happenings. Quietly woven into the fabric of the documentary is the image of him being guided towards the task from his late adolescence onwards. In the aftermath of a failed suicide attempt during his Grammar school days his psyche was opened to the divine. He wrote at the time: An “indescribable feeling of being protected filled me.”  From then on his life felt full of purpose, whereas previously it felt meaningless. That purpose was revealed to him in glimpses at key times during his life. 
     

     


  10. This song could well be about the obscurities and pitfalls of neidan teachings and practice:

     

     

    And a little about aspects of this discussion:

     

    Oh we were gone 
    Kings of oblivion
    we were so turned on
    in the mind-warp pavillion

     

    This is no easy path that we try to walk to the best of our abilities. Time and time again I see aspects of myself reflected in the behaviour of others. My own folly and the suffering it has brought has taught me a measure of compassion for us all.  

     

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  11. 21 hours ago, Shadow_self said:

    I'm repeating the words of teachers who know the processes, practices and so forth. People with far more knowledge, experience and most importantly, attainments than I. 

     

    I’m well aware of standardised chakra theory. It’s the first thing I encountered when I started yoga practice at a Satyananda yoga ashram about forty years ago. Their focus was kundalini yoga. I still have Swami Satyananda Saraswati’s comprehensive book on the subject, titled Kundalini Tantra. It presents the whole modern version of kundalini yoga theory and practice in concise form. I was immensely impressed with it at the time. Here was a systemised way to transcend my mundane reality which relied solely on my own effort. The practice felt real and its ‘truth’ was upheld by many hundreds of people dedicating their lives to following this path. 

     

    I still have good memories of those early days of my experiences with those people. It was a new world for me with an entirely new worldview derived from the Vedas. The Satyananda trained swamis gave what I still consider to be good guidance and practicing their gentle traditional hatha yoga style helped me enormously. 

     

    Yet as to any sort of deeper awakening, that yogic path did not call me. After much exploration both within myself and in the external world, I now know that at the heart of any true spiritual path, we enter into the realm of vague and elusive mystery traditions. Such paths can never be systemised. They are individually shaped and reveal themselves in their own way over long periods of time. But we all need a tangible way in and these systemised approaches work well for us westerners, at least in the preparatory stages which may last for decades. However holding to them for too long becomes a barrier to deeper attainment.  
     


  12. 6 minutes ago, Shadow_self said:

    I'm repeating the words of teachers who know the processes, practices and so forth. People with far more knowledge, experience and most importantly, attainments than I. 

     

    I edited my post and added to it well before you replied:

     

    50 minutes ago, Geof Nanto said:

    Are you speaking from your own experience? I ask this because you seem to be falling into the error of trying to make reality fit theory. Are there really seven chakras? How did this standardised system arise? I’ve only done basic research on the subject but have read enough to know this theory is a relatively modern invention. See for instance:  https://hareesh.org/blog/2016/2/5/the-real-story-on-the-chakras

     

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  13. 38 minutes ago, Shadow_self said:

     

    That is not a Kundalini awakening

     

    There is no coming back down or "normal" after a kundalini awakening

     

    I really wish people would stop throwing this term around.

     

    Are you speaking from your own experience? I ask this because you seem to be falling into the error of trying to make reality fit theory. Are there really seven chakras? How did this standardised system arise? I’ve only done basic research on the subject but have read enough to know this theory is a relatively modern invention. See for instance:  https://hareesh.org/blog/2016/2/5/the-real-story-on-the-chakras

     

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  14. 23 hours ago, ilumairen said:

    Ok.. found it.. Chidragon was intended to be permabanned.

     

    I wrote something about ChiDragon a couple of days ago here. That’s all I want to say, other than to make it clear that in no way was that comment meant as a criticism of Trunks’s action at the time. Indeed, I thoroughly appreciate how he took on the role of administrator despite some initial reluctance to take on that burden, and acted decisively to end the reign of chaos into which this forum had descended. In that situation I can well understand why he included ChiDragon on his ban list. However, the forum is no longer in that state of chaos and I think ChiDragon should be judged on his behaviour in his current incarnation. Afterall, we all do cultivation practices in the hope of becoming better people (or, at least, many of us do). And, speaking generally,  this forum can be an excellent place to work through power and ego issues. 

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  15. 2 hours ago, Mango said:

    Don't worry he will be banned again soon or later.

     

    ReturnDragon (aka ChiDragon) was included in the mass banning purge which Trunk implemented on becoming administrator in April 2020. I never had much interaction with him, but to my understanding he was not banned because of any obnoxious manner. Rather, he was banned because a number of members considered he was posting excessive amounts of misinformation. 

     

    While I react negatively to anyone posting what I consider to be false information, and appreciate to effort members put in to counter it, the moderators made it clear in relation to Covid 19 discussions that their job is to ensure discussion is respectful and abides by the forum rules, not to decide what is false information and what is not.  

     

    If that’s the case, looked at objectively, did ChiDragon violate any forum rules?  In retrospect, was he wrongly banned?
     


  16. 15 hours ago, C T said:

     

    Evidently that dark cloud from the 12th century is still looming large here on TDB today. No surprise. Karma is indeed a wonderful thing. If more Taoist practitioners subscribe to enabling abuse, or are themselves abusers, this dark mass will just gather more darkness till it eventually seeps into the marrows of contemporary adherents. Seems like it already has to some extent. I sure hope TDB is not condoning any suggestions that abuse is a necessary form of teaching, because this is clearly a warped, deviant view. 

     

    @zerostao @steve

     

    Of great relevance here is the fact that Sean, the site owner, has made it very clear that he wants Dao Bums to be a forum underpinned by kindness and compassion. To my observation, the upholding of these qualities by staff is the fundamental reason Dao Bums has survived as a vibrant place. Sure, robust discussion is welcome here because allowing respectful disagreement gives this forum its vitality. But the key word here is respectful

     

    If Taoist Texts or anyone else wants to promote a form of Daoism or any other philosophy which goes against these values, or engage in the type of discussion characterised by trying to demean and belittle anyone who disagrees with them, then the site owner has made it clear that they are not welcome here. 

     

    You've tagged @zerostao and @steve. I'll add @Trunk, @ilumairen and @dwai

     

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  17. I have no trouble accepting the reality of what the label ‘non-dual’ attempts to convey. It’s something I intuitively feel and have done so for a long time, well before I heard the label non-dual. That sense has continued to deepen ‘self-so’ with my ongoing cultivation practice. Yet, although it’s becoming increasingly palpable as a felt sense, it also reveals itself as a deeper and deeper mystery. I can well understand why a person who intuitively senses this would remain silent. Hence the saying from the Daodejing: “Those who speak do not know, those who know do not speak.”

     

    My trouble with this discussion is the way I see ‘non-dual’ is being presented as a monism (by Dwai and Stirling in particular). And monism implies hidden dualism. Hence this discussion reveals plenty of dualism (duel-ism). In fact, it’s being energised by dualism.

     

    For me the message that’s being shouted here by the most outspoken of those who label themselves as non-dualists, namely that the poor ignorant masses suffer terribly because they don’t know this amazing numinous truth of nondualism, is more to banish their own hidden doubts; doubts that they themselves are, in fact, far removed from this deep ineffable mystery.

     

    What I’ve written so far enters me into the fray of duel-ism. I’m very much aware of that and it’s not a place I want to dwell. However, I am irritated by some of the ignorant assumptions that are being propagated here.   (Yet I’m also impressed by some of the deep thinking on the subject by most people and Apech in particular, not to mention Bindi’s ability to take on multiple opponents with seemingly undiminished energy).  

     

    To my mind this discussion has now gone on long enough for each of us to express (or at least acknowledge privately to ourselves) our motives for participating. An obvious one for me is my need for connection. Another is to assert myself as a separate individual. Yet I also feel how we are all part of a whole. Even though I’m expressing disagreement with attitudes of some members, I like them as people, especially when they reveal something of their personal stories.  That is a truth and so is the truth of separation. Connection and separation; a yin-yang pair, both of which need to be honoured as vital constituents of the non-dual.

     

    I rest my case. :) And conclude by acknowledging the importance of this forum to me as a place where I can express my thoughts on experiences central to my life and likewise read (and sometimes feel) those of other people. This is a great gift. 

     

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  18. 2 hours ago, Bindi said:


    How do I give you a laugh emoji and a cup and a heart all at the same time???

     

    I’ll stick with a laugh emoticon for that reply because it made me smile. But I’d add a ‘Thanks’ as well if I could.  And also the non-existent emoticon which says, ‘Yes, but there is another side to this’... 

     

    I made that comment to make it clear that I have severe reservations about the contemporary nondual school as described by a couple of prominent nondualists on this forum (not Steve).  But, along with that, I’d also like to make clear that I have no doubts about the sincerity of these nondualists and their genuine commitment to a spiritual path.  I like them as people and value them as members of this forum. It’s just the path they espouse that I don’t like. To me it feels like spiritual opium; a seductive and addictive trap that ultimately prevents deeper realisation.  
     

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  19. 7 hours ago, Iskote said:

    The actual concepts behind the confusing symbolism, it seems, are usually (sometimes?) not so complicated to understand once it it explained in straightforward language. 

     

     

    Not so difficult to understand as concepts. Extremely difficult to attain as lived reality. 

     

    “… those who study Taoism may be as numerous as hairs on a cow, but those who accomplish the Way are as rare as unicorn horns.”  ~ Liu Yiming

     

    (Of course, the exception to this is the contemporary so-called ‘Non-dualist’ school where those who have found enlightenment are as numerous as hairs on a cow.)