Geof Nanto

Thanks Gerald. Excellent! I've scanned and OCR'd those pages...... Taoist Hermits on Mount Heng Refining Themselves in Seclusion On my way back to Szechuan, I had to pass again through southern Hunnan, so I took this opportunity to visit Mount Heng. Arriving in Hengyang one evening, I set out toward the foot of the mountain the next morning, and after a breakfast of some local tea and fried breadsticks at a roadside eatery, I slowly hiked up the mountain. The scenery on Mount Heng doesn't compare with Mount Hua and Mount Tai, but it still pleases the eye and inspires the heart. That day the mountain trail was crowded with all sorts of people— tourists, pilgrims, bearded Taoists in robes, soldiers, all were there. Taoist robes hadn't changed at all since the Han Dynasty, whereas Chinese military uniforms reflected the influence of the West, and placed side by side these two contrasting styles of clothing, with the famous mountain as a background, served as a suitable symbol for China at that time—on one side stood an ancient cultural tradition with a very long history, and on the other side stood startling social change. I often noticed that among the Taoist adepts one encountered in the big cities of China, there were very few who actually cultivated their practice to a high degree of refinement. Some were just charlatans in robes who made a living cheating gullible men and women. But the Taoists one met in the mountain forests were mostly pure and diligent practitioners of the Way. That their hair tied up in topknots, their long beards, their ancient style robes, and their extremely courteous manners were matters of external appearance all goes without saying. But as genuine adepts who cultivated the deepest practices, their bright eyes sparkling with laughter, their spirit of self-presence and immutable sense of calm, their healthy and supple bodies, and their exemplary behavior, all provided ample proof of the efficacy of their "internal arts." The goals of cultivating the internal arts were to prolong life, promote health, preserve youth, nurture vitality, and enhance awareness. Attaining all of these goals is not easy, but diligent practitioners are able to achieve most of them. Cultivating the internal arts has nothing to do with superstition, but rather involves yoga, meditation, and inner focus. Whenever I visited the famous mountains, I didn't like to stay at the well-known monasteries, but preferred instead to lodge at the most remotely isolated places. That's because Taoist adepts and Buddhist monks who are truly devoted to self-cultivation always avoid places frequented by crowds of visitors. The day I climbed up to the Southern Peak of the mountain, I found a small hermitage located far from the mountain trail to spend the night. Among the three or four hermits living there, only one came out to greet me. The others were secluded in retreat fora few days, sitting in silent meditation from morning till night. The one who greeted in, was a friendly middle-aged adept, and the two of us stayed up talking till dawn for two nights in a row. I asked him to explain the basic foundation of Taoist teachings, and he wrote down for me a few lines from the Tao Teh Ching: "'Nonexistence' is the origin of Heaven and Earth. `Existence' is the mother of all phenomena. These two have the same source but different names." After writing this down, he explained the meaning with great clarity. To this day I still recall the joyful expression on his face as he spoke, and the gaze of deep compassion in his eyes. As I recall it, this is the basic meaning of what he said: 'Nonexistence' refers to the intrinsically formless essence of the nature of Tao. 'Existence' refers to the form of the myriad phenomena in the manifest universe. Heaven and Earth arise from the formless essence of Tao nature, which has no beginning and no end. Although all forms are impermanent, their basic essence is nevertheless indestructible. Superficially, these two aspects seem to be opposites, but fundamentally there is not the slightest difference between them. Therefore, all forms are essentially inseparable from the formless nature of Tao, human beings are inseparable from Tao, and Tao is inseparable from human beings. The great Tao is infinite, and nothing obstructs or limits it. All living things share the essential nature of Tao, so how could they have any limitations? Adepts who have realized the Tao understand this truth and have no fear when death approaches. Taoist adepts clearly know that the essential nature of Self is identical with the essential nature of Tao, that they are one and the same, and that the real Self is thus immortal. The only thing that dies is the physical form of this body. In reality, the physical body is just like a little ripple rising on the surface of a lake, appearing for a brief moment then disappearing again. Why should anyone wish to cling to such an ephemeral phenomenon? While we are still alive in this world, we should spend our time and energy cultivating Self-Presence. As death approaches, we should maintain our Self-Presence, and remain fully conscious of the fact that the physical body is not worth clinging to and that we should therefore let it go. Our Self nature is inseparable from Tao nature and can therefore never be destroyed. All men and women who have attained this realization may be regarded as enlightened sages. Whenever they encounter pleasurable things, although they clearly understand that they are only ephemeral illusions, they may still enjoy them fully in the moment, then let them pass. Similarly, when they encounter calamities, they recognize them as no different from dreams, and therefore face them without concern. The ability to maintain stable peace of mind on the basis of this viewpoint may be regarded as the attainment of the first stage of Taoist self-cultivation. Many years ago, when I was together with elder brother Yuan-ruo, I heard him explain the Buddhist teaching that "all sentient beings are of a single Mind" (or "one basic nature"), and the meaning of this idea is exactly the same as the Taoist precept.

Yes, I suspect we all have many contradictions. I know I do. For me the Enlightenment vision of humans as unified, rational beings is far-fetched.

Hey! I thought you were an anarchist. A garden like that is centrally planned and requires ongoing government to maintain it. It's wilderness that displays anarchy.

I don’t like the term ‘cultivation’ either when it suggests this….. I'd call this the Confucian approach to cultivation. It has its place but my heart prefers wilderness. One of my greatest teachings for what I call personal cultivation has come from working on forest regeneration projects over many years here where I live……. By removing the invasive weed monocultures, the forest regenerates ‘self-so’ over time when left to its own complex processes. Similarly, us humans can allow our own innate natures to unfold ‘self-so’ by skilfully removing blockages. It requires initial work but as greater harmony with Dao is achieved the process becomes more and more effortless.

These are good insights. What you’re expressing here are aspects of what I’d call your personal cultivation. I use the term ‘cultivation’ because for me it implies working with the energies of nature. It’s definitely not about forcing anything - quite the opposite. It’s another way of expressing my exploration of what it means for me to seek harmony with the ebb and flow of Dao. For me the ultimate cultivator is the great Dao and I find her expression strongest in natural wilderness. Cultivation is about gaining insights into what is blocking me from my fullest potential as a unique expression of Dao. I sincerely thank you for your interest in my wellbeing, but it’s a tad annoying that you’re projecting all sorts of images onto me that simply do not apply. Hopefully my above comment makes it clear we actually have the same attitude towards forcing things towards a specific outcome. I’m 62 years old and have explored my life to the outer limits of both death (through heroin addiction) and ecstasy (through spiritual experience). It’s my nature to work through things by following my desires. I follow what’s easy and often I’ve learnt that difficult work is actually the only (and therefore the easiest) option other than dissipating on a downward spiral into death. Thankfully I've found a level of contentment such as I've never experienced before with the simplicity of a lifestyle grounded in nature.

I like that. I could also say realist by day, mystery by night. Where I live is surrounded by forest and remote from other human habitation. The nights have a profound stillness, a 'silence' pregnant with ineffable meaning. I consider the nights here as sacred. I rarely engage in electronic media and never any noisy activity. I regularly read mythopoeic stories though. It's a time favourable for nurturing dreaming and phantasy. I'm not sure what you mean by that. I do admit to feeling some angst when engaging with the occasional combative member on Dao Bums. (Fortunately they're few and no one on this topic - as yet!.) I try to use these aggressively adversarial encounters as part of my personal cultivation - but they bring me no joy.

An eagle grasps a drone during a police exercise in Katwijk, Holland, March 7, 2016.

When it comes to the question of what is reality I’d prefer to say I do not know. That doesn’t mean I’m not interested but rather it allows me some measure of open mindedness. For an overview of ‘reality’ see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reality Zhuang Zhou wisely realised, “Your life has a limit but knowledge has none. If you use what is limited to pursue what has no limit, you will be in danger. If you understand this and still strive for knowledge, you will be in danger for certain! “ To my mind it's a great loss of potential wisdom that materialists fail to acknowledge the multifaceted relevance of religion for what it tells us about our contemporary selves - in this case the focus is on our human need for the certainty of belief in what is real. For me, our conceptual reality is an ever evolving web of myths created to fill the needs of our human psyche for meaning. At the core of our consciousness we are mythical beings; hence philosopher John Gray suggests the best a thinking person can do is to recognize the myths he or she cannot live without. (Or perhaps, more modestly, I can only expect to recognise myths I can live without. By necessity those myths I truly depend on must remain hidden beyond the fringes of my awareness. ) Although holding to any one religion or philosophy creates the feeling of certainty, for Zhuang Zhou this was all illusion. His message is that all human truths are relative and the only way to transcend such relativity was to cultivate one’s life to achieve harmony with the great mystery called Dao.

Unfortunately Thomas Cleary gives no source information for his translation of Spiritual Alchemy for Women. All I could find is that it is an anonymous 1899 text on Taoist yoga and meditation dedicated to (and probably written by a disciple of) the outstanding woman Taoist master Cao Zhenjie. You could try contacting Cleary but I’ve heard he’s a reluctant correspondent. (The introduction was written by Cleary himself if that’s not already clear.) A better bet would be Louis Komjathy. He is a Daoist priest and scholar with much interest in authenticating Daoist translations. He’s written extensively on the subject. A paper of his entitled DAOIST TEXTS IN TRANSLATION is available as a pdf file for download here. The paper lists the Chinese language source documents for many of Cleary’s translations but unfortunately not this one. I’d try contacting him through The Center for Daoist Studies. He is the co-director there. ( Beware: He’s not interested in engaging with people he calls popular Taoists. See the Guidelines for Correspondence on his website. ) Active members here who might be able to help are Dawei and Taoist Texts.

Some of the monks living on Hua Shan in 1935........

Professor A C Graham was holding forth on the topic of how Zhuangzi would have driven an automobile. I can still hear the twinkle in his voice as he went on about Zhuangzi: “He would go here … and there … but never arrive anywhere.” (From an interview with Harold Roth)

A close reading of the Zhuangzi will make it all perfectly clear. (Before I read the Zhuangzi I'd say "I don't know" with some trepidation, now I can say "I don't know" with great acceptance.) BTW I very much like your observation, "The things that we can identify and talk about (in most cases) are forms. Reality is more of a process than a form." Conceiving, as they do, of all reality as a deployment, the Chinese are not led to backtrack along a necessarily infinite series of possible causes. Convinced as they are of the ineluctable nature of propensity, they are not inclined to speculate on ends, which can never be anything more than probable. Neither cosmogonical stories nor teleological suppositions interest them. They are concerned neither to recount the beginning nor to imagine the end. All that exists, has always existed, and will always exist are interactions that are constantly at work, and reality is never anything other than their ceaseless process. Thus, the problem that concerns the Chinese is not that of "being," in the Greek sense (i.e., being as opposed to becoming and the perceptible world); rather it is the problem of the capacity to function: the source of the efficacy that is at work everywhere in reality and the best way to profit from it. As soon as one believes, as the Chinese do, that all oppositions interact correlatively as a matter of principle, any idea of antagonism dissolves; reality can never be dramatic. (from Francois Jullien’s The Propensity of Things: Toward a History of Efficacy in China )

You really like to throw spears, don't you. That's nothing like what I thought. I actually appreciated you expanding the topic by mentioning the complex vastness of the Daoist Canon. I did have reservations about its relevance for newcomers though.

Thanks Dawei for your clarification. When I wrote…. “Thanks for your comprehensive overview Taomeow. For clarity I'd add that the Daodejing and Nanhua zhenjing(aka Zhuangzi) are foundational Daoist scriptures.” ….that’s exactly what I meant. My purpose was simply to clarify her overview for the newcomer to Daoism. I didn’t realise until she made her opposition explicit that I was contradicting her implicit point that these scriptures are not central. And for me that took the discussion somewhere I didn’t want to go. I get no joy from opposition debates whatever the outcome. What I did gain was an appreciation of the validity of her observation using her frame of reference. (However, I stand by my statement that the Daodejing and Zhuangzi are foundational Daoists texts, even though they’re not necessarily primary texts for all lineages.) I thought to myself on reading Taomeow’s post that we are opposites in aspects of our conscious presentation. Though we both value learning and research, whereas I choose for a signature, “I inquire, I do not assert, I do not here determine anything with final assurance; I conjecture, try, compare, attempt, ask.......” , Taomeow’s signature could well be “I assert, I tell, I state with final assurance.” However I suspect neither one of these signatures is wholly applicable.

Sacred mountains celebrate decade back under Aboriginal management PHOTO: Gulaga mountain, previously known as Mount Dromedary, near Narooma. In 2006 the NSW Government formally handed back Gulaga and Biamanga National Parks on the far south coast to the Yuin people, because of the significant cultural sites they contain and the living links to local Indigenous groups. Gulaga, which was previously formally known as Mount Dromedary, is an imposing 823-metre mountain rising near the coastal town of Narooma. Biamanga National Park includes Mumbulla Mountain, further south in the Bega valley. To the Yuin people, Gulaga is known as the Mother Mountain, and has always been a woman's place. It includes sacred sites where Aboriginal women would retreat for storytelling, ceremony and childbirth. Meanwhile Mumbulla was a traditional men's mountain, and contains initiation sites where boys would become men of the Yuin tribe. Gulaga board of management chair Iris White said the park was a "beautiful" and "spiritual" place. "A lot of people enjoy [Gulaga] for its natural beauty," Ms White said. "From a cultural perspective, there's a sense of connectedness with this place ... it's a spiritual place." Ms White said generations of Yuin people had come to the sacred women's site high on the slopes of Gulaga, to share stories and conduct ceremonies. PHOTO: Aboriginal discovery ranger Cath Thomas said the cathedral of granite boulders has healing powers. Aboriginal discovery ranger Cath Thomas said when approaching the natural cathedral of huge granite tors, people were encouraged to remain open-minded. "We've got to use our 'third eye'," Ms Thomas said, tapping her forehead. "If you don't use your 'third eye', you don't get the story - the dreamtime story, and the dreamtime stories in the rocks." Ms Thomas identified a huge granite boulder next to the track as the "healing rock". "It actually brings out all their bad energy that [people] carry, and puts a lot of the good energy back in," she said. "I feel like it gives me the energy that I need to take on the world." PHOTO: The view of Gulaga mountain in Gulaga National Park from the town of Central Tilba. ( http://www.abc.net.au/news/2016-04-02/mountains-celebrate-decade-back-under-aboriginal-management/7294216 )

In my travels the most significant places of power I found were all located remotely, especially around central Australia and in the Kimberley region. When travelling from place to place slowness is important. I noticed it took me at least three days to feel some real connection with the spirit of a new place. I'd stay for weeks at a time in places I found favourable. All natural environment has special power, but some places are particularly potent. I suspect the most significant had a favourable natural aspect but their power was further enhanced by generations of Aboriginal cultivation. For me, places like Byron Bay are too dominated by Western human consciousness to work in this way. Anywhere with a large human population has its energy aspected accordingly. Machines, such as cars etc, are particularly destructive of more subtle energies. There is a special 'silence' that's only found away from all this.

There's always a few kookaburras around here. Kookaburras are terrestrial tree kingfishers of the genus Dacelo native to Australia and New Guinea, which grow to between 28–42 cm (11–17 in) in length. The name is a loanword from Wiradjuri guuguubarra, onomatopoeic of its call. The kookaburra's loud call sounds like echoing human laughter. They are found in habitats ranging from humid forest to arid savanna, as well as in suburban areas with tall trees or near running water. They like to eat baby snakes too.

(Clicking on most of the images I’ve posted will also display larger versions.) Book extracts continued…. 3. In my escape from the dusty world I find myself at Flowery Mountain and come to Green Branch Wall, away from wealth and honours on the Way of Truth in Holy Mother Hall. (Prose rendering of a wall poem at the inn, where the sedan-chairs stop) 4. After breakfast we entered a canyon out of which rushes a torrent. It flows through the temple gardens and reappears in a grove of small trees. At the Jade Spring Temple the monks gave us tea and fruit. They warned us the climb ahead was dangerous and gave us walking sticks, saying "These will serve you as far as Green Branch Wall; then the trail becomes too steep even with a stick." As our clothes were unsuitable for the climb we left hats, shoes and coats behind and ventured forth in pilgrim garb, with turban and straw sandals. 5. At about ten o'clock we came to the gully leading to the ridge, straight up into the sky. We could not see the peaks but only a few weird, wind-bent trees clinging to the mountain side. Two rows of steps, cut barely two inches deep in the live rock and two iron chains gave us foothold and hand grasp. Our guides said that nearby higher up lived a hermit who never left his rocky cell and from time to time let down a rope to receive food from the temple monks. On the stone arch on the pass, we read the inscription "West Upper Gate". A Tang emperor erected the arch in commemoration of a daughter who died here and "mounted on a crane and disappeared into the skies". (Paraphrase of two essays by Wang Li, in Hua-shan chih, Ch. 6, p. I a) 6. In front of us stood Flowery Mountain and its secret retreats. When we approached clouds veiled its summit. The vapours which covered the enclosing ring of mountains rose and the morning sun illumined their crowning peaks. Then beautiful cliffs appeared one after another and we heard the music of the wind howling against the rock walls. We were part of the living landscape. (From an essay by Wang Li, Hua-shan chih, Ch. 6, p. lb) For whom the bell tolls near Sky Ladder. On each side of the cast-iron bell is engraved one of the eight trigrams, pa-kua, used in telling the hour and direction of coming events. The trigram with a full bar under two broken bars is ch’en, of thunder or North East. The wooden beater is slotted in the cupola. Perpetual calendar carved on eight-sided slab. At the centre the sun and moon disks for brightness ming. In the first band are the twelve phases of the moon. In the next band are the corresponding hexagrams in the Book of Changes, Yi-ching. In the third band are the numeral designations of the twelve months, and in the fourth the twenty-four periods of the rural calendar. In the outermost band are the thirty days of the month. An artist monk of East Peak Temple decorates a dragon-headed board with an elaborate form of the character for longevity, shou.

Except perhaps if we define it as a resource for lumber or wood chips as opposed to worthy of conservation. But I accept we have a difference of perspective here and I have no problems with that. (Meaning I don't really want to take it any further.)

Udenaas had known many for whom certainty was a god, the only god, no matter the cost of its features. And he had seen the manner in which such belief made the world simple, where all was divisible by the sharp cleaving of cold judgement, after which no mending was possible. He had seen such certainty, but had never shared it. - Steven Erikson

I don't like labels and don't consider myself a realist or constructivist, however of the two I favour the constructivist view as portraying a greater reality. (Perhaps in the same way Einsteinian physics presents a greater reality than Newtonian physics, but Newtonian physics is perfectly adequate for most all practical purposes.) When people here present concepts I'm unfamiliar with in areas I'm interested in I do my own research so as to have an informed opinion. That's how I learn new things and expand my conceptual reality. If I wanted to learn about constructivist epistemology I'd start with Wikipedia.... https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constructivist_epistemology

It was meant as a compliment. I was not attacking you, rather I was making an observation of difference. I have gained much by engaging with other people's realities on this forum. I often have such complex thoughts in response to even simple comments here that it is difficult for me a frame a brief coherent reply. (That's part of the reason I sometimes post long extracts from books.) You don't seem to have that difficulty, or at least not to the same degree as me. You have misrepresented the constructivist argument. This is the straw man fallacy of the ten commandments of the OP. "Thou shall not misrepresent or exaggerate a person's argument in order to make them easier to attack." Perhaps you could read what I wrote again and if you still don't understand it I'll try to elaborate.

I like it that you're now describing logic as an art. Philosophers can also be seen (not exclusively) as artists whose medium is abstract thought. From this standpoint, philosophy is the art of telling the abstract truth as fully, exactly, and affectingly as possible, or, alternatively, of drawing, with affecting exactness or convincing rational rhetoric, the exact limits to the ability to tell an abstract truth

Yes, these commandments of logic are useful when applied appropriately. (Hence I appreciate Leth’s clarifications on their limitations.) I’ve noticed you are much clearer and more comfortable with distinctions and definitions than me. For instance I tend to use words like 'logical' and 'rational' interchangeably. I’d say your reality is more clear-cut than mine. For me, ‘reality’ is very much an ambiguous concept. I suspect we reside on different sides of the two fundamental views on the nature of ‘reality’; namely realism and constructivism. A simple realism argues that reality is as it is and it can be cognised and represented as such. This view underpins the scientific method and obviously has much validity - as, for instance, our technology testifies. On the other hand, a constructivist's view of reality posits that ‘reality’ only emerges as a result of construction by an observer. This does not mean that there is no reality, but that it emerges as a reality only when it is observed. For example, I can’t even image how the microbats that live in my house perceive reality using echolocation and their bat brains. I think of myself and all the wild creatures that share my house and live in the surrounding forest as living in parallel realities. Sometimes aspects our realities intersect (for instance, when we bump into each other), but mostly, though we share a common environment, we have our own realities.

Yes, I deliberately went off topic. Was that logical or illogical? Take your pick depending on your frame of reference.