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Hello everyone! A close friend suggested I join this community, saying that the conversations here have a rare depth and sincerity. I’ve been reading a bit already, and I can feel the calm, reflective atmosphere — it’s refreshing. I’m practitioner with interests in Tibetan Buddhism, inner Goetia as a path of psychological and spiritual refinement, and elements of the Northern tradition. My practice leans toward inner work, symbols, and direct experience. I am currently searching for interesting materials and books to study that may be similar in spirit) Happy to be here, and I look forward to learning from you and contributing where it feels meaningful.

Zen, the Absolute Nothingness, and the Transcendence of Nihilism The thought of Zen is often misunderstood, especially when its doctrine of “absolute nothingness” is taken as a form of philosophical nihilism. Such a misinterpretation overlooks the essence of Zen teaching, which is not trapped within the narrow duality of “being” and “non-being.” On the contrary, Zen transcends these terms, showing that truth lies neither exclusively in existence nor in non-existence, but in a field where these distinctions cease to hold absolute power. Thus, the “nothingness” of Zen is not the emptiness of despair but the openness that contains everything. In Zen tradition, the concept of Buddha-nature illuminates this very paradox. It is described as a positive term for absolute nothingness, encompassing both “being” and “non-being” in an ultimate way. This is not a logical contradiction but a higher, paradoxical logic: the “logic of being/non-being.” In Zen experience, existence and non-existence do not negate one another but coexist, revealing a deeper dimension of reality. Buddha-nature, therefore, is not an abstract metaphysical concept but the very dynamic reality that permeates all phenomena, giving them life and meaning. This stance has contemporary significance. In a world of modernity and globalization, where traditional certainties have been shaken and nihilism often appears as the dead end of human thought, the perspective of Zen’s “absolute nothingness” offers a way out. Since it does not deny emptiness but embraces it as a creative principle, it can transform the experience of meaninglessness into an experience of freedom and openness. Religion, if it draws from this perspective, does not remain trapped in rigid theologies nor dissolve into deconstruction. Instead, it can face nihilism not through denial but by transcending it, showing that at the heart of nothingness lies the infinite potential of being and non-being together. Zen, then, is not a path that leads to nihilism, but a way of overcoming it. Its teaching of “absolute nothingness” and its logic of “being/non-being” call us to see reality beyond the dilemmas imposed by Western rationalism. Within this opening, religion, philosophy, and human existence as a whole can find new ways to reconcile with emptiness and transform it into a source of freedom, meaning, and creativity. Interdependence in Zen: A Network of Boundless Relation At the heart of Zen thought lies the idea that nothing exists autonomously or in isolation. Every being, every phenomenon, every moment is interconnected with all others. This empirical realization, which surpasses philosophical theory and becomes lived experience in Zen practice, is expressed through the term “interdependence.” The individual is not a closed, self-sufficient subject but a node in an infinite web of relations. When Zen speaks of “emptiness” (śūnyatā), it does not mean that things are nonexistent but that they exist only in relation to others, while still maintaining their “ownness” or particularity. A flower, for example, is not just a “flower”: within it are the sun, the rain, the soil, the air, time, the labor of the farmer. Remove these, and the flower ceases to exist as a distinct being. The uniqueness of each being is recognized and exists only in coexistence with others. In this way, Zen teaches us that every form of life is inseparably bound to the whole of the cosmos. The experience of this interdependence has deep existential and ethical consequences. First, it dismantles the illusion of isolated existence, which often breeds arrogance or despair. Second, it cultivates compassion: if “I” and “you” are not absolutely separate, then caring for the other is simultaneously caring for the self. In this light, kindness is not a moral imperative but the natural expression of the unity of life. Zen calls us to live with awareness of this interdependence. Daily meditation practice is not withdrawal from the world but a return to the deeper experience of unity with it. In every breath, every sound, every glance, the continuous interweaving of all things is revealed. Then the individual recognizes that there is no “inside” and “outside, ” but only the open, shared life that includes everything. Thus, interdependence in Zen is not merely a philosophical doctrine but a way of seeing the world as a fabric of mutual relations, inviting us to live with humility, gratitude, and compassion. The “Ownness” in Emptiness Buddhists emphasize “emptiness” and say that all things are empty. While this is a central point in Buddhism generally and in Zen in particular, it can be misleading, or at least very difficult for Western thought to grasp. The phrase “all things are empty” might be better rendered as “all things are exactly as they are.” A pine tree is a pine tree, bamboo is bamboo, a dog is a dog, a cat is a cat, you are you, I am I, she is she. Everything is different from everything else. And yet, since each being maintains its uniqueness and particularity, they are free from conflict with one another. This is the meaning of saying that all things are empty. A pine tree does not feel superior to bamboo. Bamboo does not feel inferior to a pine tree. A dog does not feel superior to a cat, nor a cat inferior to a dog. Humans may believe that plants and animals entertain such thoughts, but this is merely a projection of human capacities onto non-human dimensions. In reality, plants and animals live naturally, without judgments of value. Humans, however, are different: we constantly compare ourselves to others. Why is he so smart? Why am I not so gifted? Why is she so beautiful? Why am I not as beautiful? Some feel superior, others inferior. This happens because, unlike plants and animals, we humans possess self-consciousness, and through it, we look at ourselves from the outside, comparing ourselves with others. Thus, although we are “ourselves, ” we are not truly “ourselves, ” since we view ourselves from the outside. In daily life, there are moments when we are “here” with ourselves—moments of vague unity. But at other times we are “there”—seeing ourselves from outside. We swing between here and there, moment by moment: homeless, without a place to settle. There is always a rift within us. Plants and animals, on the other hand, are exactly as they are, because they lack self-consciousness. This is the essential difference between humans and other beings. This characteristic of humans has a positive aspect. Because we have self-awareness and are constantly thinking, we can plan, reflect, imagine ideals, and thus create culture, science, art, and so on. Yet this positive side is also problematic, for in seeing ourselves from the outside we become divided from ourselves. We are here and there, inside and outside. This constant oscillation produces our fundamental anxiety, which plants and animals do not have. Only human beings are not “exactly as they are.” D. T. Suzuki often spoke of beings “as-they-are.” Plants and animals live their “ownness.” But we humans are separated from it; we are never fully “as-we-are.” As long as we move between here and there, inside and outside, comparing ourselves with others, we are restless. This anxiety is not accidental or peculiar to some individuals—it belongs to being human itself. Strictly speaking, it is not that we “have” this anxiety, but rather that we are this anxiety. How can we overcome this fundamental anxiety and return to our “ownness”? This is the task of religion. In Genesis, after every act of creation, “God saw that it was good.” When He created Adam and Eve, He blessed them and saw that they too were good. But “good” here cannot be merely moral. Rather, it affirms that creation is ontologically good—that all things are “in their own state.” God created a tree exactly as a tree, and it was good; a bird exactly as a bird, a fish exactly as a fish. Adam is Adam, Eve is Eve. They are good because they are as they are. Beyond Subject and Object A well-known Zen saying states: “Before one studies Zen, mountains are mountains and rivers are rivers. After some understanding, mountains are not mountains and rivers are not rivers. When one is enlightened, mountains are truly mountains and rivers are truly rivers.” This short passage illustrates the central Mahāyāna Buddhist doctrine of absolute emptiness (śūnyatā). Before studying Zen, one affirms the existence of mountains and rivers, differentiates them, and most importantly, objectifies them—they are external realities set apart from the subject (the self). This duality of subject and object obstructs realization of the true self, or Buddha-nature. Inquiry into the self in objectified terms leads to infinite regression: “Who am I? Who sees these mountains?” Each subject becomes object in turn. Liberation requires an existential realization that Buddha-nature lies beyond objectifying thought—beyond subject/object dichotomy. This “emptying” of duality is the perception of non-differentiation. The second phrase—mountains are not mountains—marks the stage of non-differentiation after some insight. But even here, a subtle duality remains: differentiation vs. non-differentiation. To realize Buddha-nature requires negating even this non-differentiation—an “absolute negation, ” which paradoxically is also absolute affirmation. This paradox of affirmation/negation, or the “logic of being/non-being, ” is the essence of Buddha-nature. The Essence of Buddha-Nature What is Buddha-nature? Dōgen reinterpreted the traditional doctrine that all sentient beings have Buddha-nature, arguing instead that all beings, sentient and non-sentient, are Buddha-nature. He sought to undermine the tendency to objectify Buddha-nature as a kind of substantial essence. For Dōgen, Buddha-nature is not an essence humans possess, but the dynamic unfolding of existence itself. Traditionally, liberation meant realizing an inner essence beyond ordinary existence. But for Dōgen, this objectifies Buddha-nature and traps us in duality. Instead, Buddha-nature is identical with the transient phenomena of everyday life: grass, trees, stones. Impermanence itself is Buddha-nature. Its essence is revealed in the momentary arising and passing of ordinary things. Practice and Enlightenment While philosophical aspects of Zen matter, Zen theorists insist knowledge must be realized in daily life. If impermanence itself is Buddha-nature, how should one practice? Dōgen answered through shikantaza (“just sitting”): practice and enlightenment are one. Practice is enlightenment; enlightenment is practice. This view frees meditation from ego-centered intention. Shikantaza is regarded as the purest practice. Critical Analyses of Western Philosophy Western philosophy, from its ancient Greek beginnings to modern and contemporary developments, has sought to understand reality through concepts such as being, essence, truth, and reason. Yet the tradition is not monolithic. Within it, critical analyses of Western philosophy have emerged—from Nietzsche and Heidegger to postmodern thinkers and even comparative dialogue with Eastern traditions like Buddhism—that challenge its foundations. These critiques highlight both the achievements and the limitations of Western philosophy, exposing its metaphysical assumptions and its tendency toward dualism, objectification, and abstraction. Examining these critiques allows us to understand the relationship between traditional and critical thought, as well as the differences and similarities in their approaches. The Relationship: Philosophy with and against Itself Western philosophy is marked by an internal dynamic of self-criticism. Thinkers like Descartes, Kant, Hegel, Nietzsche, Heidegger, Derrida, and Foucault do not simply abandon philosophy but interrogate its foundations. This creates a paradoxical relationship: critical analyses arise from within the Western tradition even as they destabilize it. Nietzsche critiqued Western metaphysics as “Platonism for the masses, ” arguing that Christianity and philosophy both denied life in favor of illusory transcendent ideals. Yet he used the tools of philosophy—philology, logic, and genealogy—to expose these illusions. Heidegger continued this self-critical turn, arguing that Western philosophy had forgotten the question of Being by reducing it to beings and their attributes. His project of “destruction” (Destruktion) aimed not at destroying philosophy but at retrieving its hidden origins. Postmodern thinkers such as Derrida and Lyotard pushed this critique further, deconstructing claims of absolute truth, universal reason, and grand narratives. Thus, the relationship is dialectical: Western philosophy sustains itself by critiquing itself. Critical analysis is not external opposition but philosophy reflecting on its own limits. One of the clearest differences between traditional Western philosophy and its critical analyses lies in their stance toward metaphysics. Traditional philosophy (Plato, Aristotle, Aquinas, Descartes, Kant) generally affirms stable foundations: eternal Forms, substance, God, or the categories of reason. Knowledge is grounded in universal structures, and truth is conceived as correspondence to reality. Critical philosophy challenges these assumptions: Nietzsche’s “death of God” dismantles transcendent foundations. Heidegger’s critique of metaphysics rejects the dominance of presence, substance, and fixed essences. Derrida argues that meaning is always deferred (différance), undermining metaphysical notions of closure and identity. This difference is not merely theoretical but existential. Traditional metaphysics seeks security in permanence; critical thought accepts impermanence, flux, and the instability of meaning. Despite their opposition, critical analyses share important similarities with the tradition they critique. Shared language and concepts: Even when Nietzsche rejects Platonism, he uses the Platonic framework of “truth vs. appearance” to overturn it. Derrida deconstructs concepts like logos, presence, and truth, but these are inherited from Greek philosophy. Commitment to rational inquiry: Whether affirming or deconstructing metaphysics, both sides rely on argument, reflection, and textual engagement. Nietzsche’s aphorisms, Heidegger’s etymologies, and Derrida’s close readings remain philosophical in method. Concern with truth: Even when denying absolute truth, critical philosophy still seeks authenticity, openness, or justice. Heidegger sought a more primordial truth of Being; Derrida insisted on an “undeconstructible justice.” The quest for truth remains, though redefined. Cross-Cultural Critical Perspectives Interestingly, critical analyses of Western philosophy often converge with non-Western traditions. For example: Buddhism and Zen emphasize impermanence, emptiness, and interdependence, challenging the Western fixation on substance and permanence. Heidegger’s “nothingness” and Nietzsche’s “innocence of becoming” resonate with these ideas, though they remain embedded in Western categories. Whitehead’s process philosophy emphasizes relationality and becoming, akin to Buddhist interdependence, though he retains a metaphysical God that reintroduces dualism. These comparisons reveal that Western self-critique often parallels insights long developed in other traditions, highlighting both its originality and its limitations. Critical analyses of Western philosophy reveal a complex interplay of continuity and rupture. They are born within the tradition but move against its dominant metaphysical tendencies, challenging concepts of essence, permanence, and absolute truth. Yet they remain deeply indebted to the very heritage they critique, inheriting its language, methods, and quest for meaning. Their differences lie in their rejection of metaphysical foundations, while their similarities rest in their shared philosophical commitment to rational critique. Taken together, they illustrate that philosophy is not static but a living dialogue with itself, always reinterpreting, re-questioning, and reimagining its own possibilities. Zen thinkers analyze Western philosophy and theology through the logic of being/non-being. Western thought traditionally privileges the positive—being, life, permanence—while treating non-being, death, impermanence as derivative. Eastern thought, especially Buddhism, gives equal weight to both. Zen’s “nothingness” is not relative non-being but absolute nothingness: the original ground prior to positive/negative division. This contrasts with Western metaphysics, e.g. Platonism (reality as transcendent Forms) and Christianity (God beyond the world). Zen instead affirms what Nishitani Keiji called a “trans-descendence.” Nietzsche, for example, exposed Western metaphysics and Christianity as false constructs erected to avoid nothingness. He urged facing the void directly—what he called the innocence of becoming. Yet Zen critics note Nietzsche still posits reality in objectified terms (life, becoming), thus maintaining subject/object duality. Whitehead’s philosophy of universal relativity aligns more closely with Buddhist interdependence: each entity contains all others. Yet his concept of God as primordial, beyond time and space, reintroduces duality between permanence and change, God and world. Thus, Whitehead too fails to transcend duality fully. Tillich compared the Kingdom of God (Christianity) with Nirvāṇa (Buddhism). He argued Christianity emphasizes all people united in God’s Kingdom, while Buddhism emphasizes all things united in Nirvāṇa. This risks misunderstanding: though Buddha-nature is the presence of all phenomena, realization occurs only in human consciousness. Thus humans hold a special, though not superior, role. Tillich, by prioritizing things over humans, missed Zen’s logic of being/non-being. Zen also critiques Tillich’s engagement with modern secular movements (nationalism, scientism, Marxism, humanism). Tillich approached them as a “participating observer” on the cultural-historical level. Zen insists they must be faced existentially, as a “self-involved participant, ” through religious awareness. Only a religious encounter with and transcendence of nihilism makes religion truly necessary in the modern world. Christian Theology and Buddhism Christian theology and Buddhism are two of the most influential spiritual traditions in human history. Christianity, rooted in the revelation of God in Jesus Christ, emphasizes faith in the divine, salvation through grace, and the love of God as the foundation of existence. Buddhism, originating from the teachings of Siddhartha Gautama (the Buddha), focuses on the cessation of suffering through insight into impermanence, interdependence, and the realization of emptiness. At first glance, these two traditions appear to operate in radically different frameworks: one theistic, the other non-theistic; one grounded in divine transcendence, the other in existential awakening. Yet in the modern era, dialogue between Christian theology and Buddhism has deepened, revealing areas of surprising resonance as well as irreducible difference. God and Emptiness At the heart of Christian theology is the affirmation of a personal God, creator of heaven and earth, who reveals Himself in history. For Christians, God is both transcendent and immanent, utterly beyond the world and yet intimately present within it. By contrast, Buddhism avoids metaphysical claims about a creator God. Instead, its central concern is existential: the recognition of suffering (dukkha) and the path to liberation. The Buddhist teaching of śūnyatā (emptiness) affirms that all phenomena lack permanent essence; reality is a dynamic interplay of interdependent relations. Despite this difference, Christian theologians such as Paul Tillich and Thomas Merton have found meaningful parallels. Tillich argued that God should not be understood as “a being” among beings, but as the “Ground of Being”—a reality that cannot be objectified. This recalls the Buddhist insight that ultimate truth cannot be grasped as a fixed entity. Similarly, Merton, in dialogue with Zen thinkers, saw in emptiness not nihilism but a spiritual depth that resonates with the Christian experience of self-emptying (kenosis) in Christ. Salvation and Liberation Christian theology emphasizes salvation as reconciliation with God through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The human problem is sin—alienation from God—and the solution is divine grace. By contrast, Buddhism identifies suffering as the central problem of existence. The cause of suffering is ignorance and attachment, and liberation (nirvāṇa) comes through wisdom and compassionate practice. Though distinct, these paths share certain resonances. Christian mystics such as Meister Eckhart spoke of detachment from self and union with God in ways that echo Buddhist teachings on letting go of clinging. Similarly, the Christian notion of agapē (selfless love) resonates with the Buddhist cultivation of compassion (karuṇā). Both traditions insist that the transformation of the self requires not simply intellectual belief but a radical reorientation of existence. Christ and Buddha A central point of divergence remains the role of Christ and the Buddha. In Christianity, Christ is not merely a teacher but the incarnate Word of God, the unique mediator between humanity and God. Faith in Christ is thus indispensable. In Buddhism, the Buddha is not a savior in a metaphysical sense but an enlightened guide whose life and teachings point others toward awakening. Liberation is ultimately dependent on one’s own realization of the Dharma, not on divine intervention. Yet dialogue can also see these figures as embodying universal dimensions of human spiritual possibility. The image of Christ’s self-emptying love and the Buddha’s compassionate awakening can both be read as archetypes of human transformation, pointing beyond ego toward universal truth. Community and Practice Both Christianity and Buddhism stress the importance of community. The Christian Church is the body of Christ, where believers gather in worship and sacraments to participate in divine life. In Buddhism, the Sangha is one of the Three Jewels (together with Buddha and Dharma), providing support for practitioners on the path. Both traditions recognize that spiritual growth is not an isolated endeavor but occurs within communal bonds. Practice also reveals both similarities and contrasts. Christian prayer, sacraments, and liturgy emphasize relationship with God through word and ritual. Buddhist meditation emphasizes awareness, mindfulness, and insight into reality as-it-is. Yet Christian contemplative prayer and Buddhist meditation often converge in cultivating silence, presence, and inner transformation. Convergences and Challenges in Dialogue The dialogue between Christian theology and Buddhism has been fruitful in modern times, yet challenges remain. Christianity risks misunderstanding Buddhist emptiness as nihilism, while Buddhism may see Christian theism as attachment to an externalized metaphysical entity. Furthermore, Christians insist on the uniqueness of Christ as savior, while Buddhists generally deny any absolute necessity of such mediation. Still, both traditions contribute important correctives to modern nihilism and individualism. Buddhism challenges Christianity to embrace impermanence and interdependence more fully, freeing theology from rigid dogmatism. Christianity challenges Buddhism to engage more deeply with history, love, and the dimension of the personal. Christian theology and Buddhism, though arising in vastly different cultural and metaphysical horizons, share a profound concern for the transformation of human life in the face of suffering, finitude, and meaning. Their dialogue reveals not a synthesis that erases differences but a creative encounter that allows each to see more deeply into its own truth. Christianity reminds Buddhism of the power of love and historical embodiment; Buddhism reminds Christianity of the depth of emptiness and the radical letting-go that underlies spiritual awakening. In their conversation, both traditions contribute to a richer vision of human existence—one rooted in compassion, humility, and the mystery of the ultimate.

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Dear Dao Bums, Here's my experience with Tulku Lobsang (known for doing Tummo in -5 degrees celsius on "Story of God With Morgan Freeman" on NGC). I'll share in 4 parts: 1) Intro and Background 2) Medicine Buddha 3) Dream Yoga 4) Wrap Up - To Be Continued 1) Intro and Background I heard about Tummo when I was a child from my dad. He learnt about yoga on a hippie island camp full of naked women burning bras when he was a child, forced to go with my hippie grandmother in the 60s. He had a life changing experience as a child with yoga and mantras, while on this naked women camp. So in his late teens when small yoga and meditation workshops started in the West, he started attending. Buddhism was super famous in my country on the spiritual scene, as it still is in much of Europe with the New Age crowd I would say. While I grew up, my dad told me of naked monks in the snow-clad Himalayas drying wet sheets with their body temperature through magical yoga practices. So now the family saga continues; as an adult, I've also pursued further what my dad exposed me to as a child. This time, I saw Tulku Lobsang with Morgan Freeman. Being able to be comfortable in a t-shirt in -5 degrees on television I took as a "good enough" show of Tummo skill, that maybe I could finally pursue this magical practice myself. However, I still had some doubts. So, when I saw he was coming to my country, I decided to go check him out. If he "checked out" I would be willing to give it a go and fork over my hard earned cash to flight, hotel and the Tummo workshop (when the time comes). With the intro out of the way, let me share how it went! The first day he taught Medicine Buddha. The following 2 days it was one long workshop on Dream Yoga. 2) Medicine Buddha He gave us the mantra and we all chanted together for maybe 5-15 minutes. Then he instructed us step-by-step in the visualisation. After having stabilised the visualisation, we resumed chanting together (we were maybe 20-30 people). During his transmission, I felt a special kind of energy coming into my head center. I felt like it made it easier for me to visualise. I also felt the energy from each of the lights we visualised in all of my body, and felt pleasantly relaxed. Since this day, I've been doing a minimum of 108 reps of the mantra and then the visualisation meditation procedure he explained. Already on the second day of the practice, it's like the energy had increased in power. Now it's growing day by day with my daily practice. So far so good! He's definitely legit. 3) Dream Yoga My dad took me to a dream yoga weekend workshop when I was about 18-19 years old with a Rinpoche visiting my country. I thought the whole idea of lucid dreams and using them for spiritual practice was extremely fascinating, and even at that young age I practiced quite consistently for about 3 months (while also reading his book). However, I had no results whatsoever. Then again when I was in my mid 20s, I picked up the book again and decided to give it a go. I practiced again for about 2 months, but zero results. In my late 20s, I again read yet another book by a tibetan teacher on dream yoga. I tried it again. No results after 1 month. All of the above practices were the usual "visualise a red drop in your throat chakra, surrounded by a white lotus flower with 4 leaves". In this book there was also a tibetan letter on each leaf, and you said them one by one as a kind of mantra for a while, then proceeded to only visualise until falling asleep. However, at the end of this particular book was also a shamanistic bön practice for lucid dreaming. After 1 month of failing with the vajrayana buddhist practice, I tried the shamanic practice. After about 7-14 days, it happened! I was super excited. Then it would happen every single day like clockwork for about a week. However, with each day I felt like I got more and more tired. Like I used up energy while sleeping, instead of regaining it. I remembered a warning from a daoist qigong teacher who had (as usually) dissed buddhist practices, especially their dream practices. He said "night is for sleeping and resting, that's what nature intended". So I thought maybe my bön lucid dreaming practice was sapping my energy and discontinued it. Lo and behold, now I'm in my early 30s, and I was faced with yet another tibetan vajrayana buddhist practice of visualising a red drop in my throat. "Here we go again!" I found myself thinking, however I still had an open mind during the workshop. During the workshop I felt Tulku Lobsang transmitted different states as well as different energies. I also found him to be extremely grounded in Being, never losing connection to himself, even if some of the people were weird or asked weird questions etc. He remained in Being, very relaxed, very present and extremely grounded and Embodied. I was quite impressed! However, no succes with lucid dreaming, neither during the nights between the workshop days, nor during the workshops when we actually slept for 10-30 minutes under his guidance and blessing. I really felt he transmitted a lot of energy during these sleeping sessions on the workshop, but still no lucid dreams. However, now after the workshop, I have actually had 3-4 lucid dreams so far using the typical tibetan buddhist vajrayana practice with the red drop! Something that's never worked for me, even though I've tried it on/off since I was 19. So that also tells me that his transmission is legit! 4) Wrap Up - To Be Continued So to wrap up, Tulku Lobsang is legit! He's extremely grounded in Being, in Presence and in his body, and he really does transmit states and energies. There's no more doubt in my mind - I will glady fork over my time and cash to learn Tummo from him when the time comes