liminal_luke

Thanks! If those studies are correct my brain had it exactly wrong. I've always assumed that midday was best for vitamin D. From a what-feels-good perspective, I much prefer the idea of spending time outdoors right before sunset, a magical part of the day.

Interesting. Gilles Marin, a teacher of an (alledgedly) Taoist bodywork form called Chi Nei Tsang, taught me a sunning practice. You sit facing the sun with eyes closed and imagine the light and warmth of the sun entering the eyes and from there penetrating different tissues of the body. I haven't practiced it much but when I did I found it relaxing. From a traditional Taoist point of view this practice would be ill-advised?

Rather than seek enlightenment, I prefer to seek to become a better person. A less glamorous path that nevertheless heads in the same direction, arguably with less danger.

The pursuit of enlightenment is dangerous when it is undertaken for unenlightened reasons, which is to say, nearly always. Then again, it's not as if avoiding enlightenment is particularly safe. I say live a little!

Years ago I did several silent vipassana retreats -- not Goenka style. For me it was a great experience, difficult but great.

I agree that a year without a teacher sounds hard. Why not try 10 days with a teacher first? A ten day silent vipassana retreat is a lot of sitting (more than enough for most) and can be quite illuminating.

You know what I always say: pick a spiritual tradition and stick with it. But do these young Bums listen? They do not. They're always seeking around.

Not living in the US helps. (Though expat life has it's disadvantages as well and is not for everybody.)

As a practitioner develops a capacity to abide more and more in the present moment, nakedly aware of things as they are, the tendency to live primarily in the abstracted space of the intellect falls away, and with it the predilection to sort things into baskets of good and bad. Or at least this is my understanding. Surely one of the concepts that falls away is the mistaken notion, common in some spiritual circles, that there's something "wrong" with the conceptual mind.

A gorilla of an error. I misread the above, thought it said: I was making an apology. Imagine my world turned topsy-turvy. Who was this new Taoist Texts, so different from the Bum I thought I knew? My shock and confusion was like a smack of the Zen abbot's staff, waking me from the daze of conceptual thought. Momentarily enlightened, I smiled the smug knowing Mona-Lisa smile of restrained jubilation. Then I reread and mundanity came pouring back. Another morning on the forum.

You're probably right, and yes, Marblehead certainly presented himself that way -- skeptical and down to earth. Personally, I never took him at his word and always considered him a closet starjumper. I have a (bad?) habit of not believing people when they tell me they're "not spiritual." Even the name, Marblehead, is a bit of a playful wink. Did Marblehead really consider himself a marblehead? There's a lot of paradox going on here. As soon as a person calls himself a marblehead you know he's not because the true marbleheads don't have that kind of self-awareness and humility. And as soon as a person calls himself a starjumper you know...

People seem to have different reactions to Marblehead and Starjumper but I think they've got plenty in common. They both might deny it but I think Marblehead was a bit of a starjumper and Starjumper a bit of a marblehead.

The best goodbyes mirror a departing man's personal style but some might not look kindly on a death limerick. So I'll reign in my poetic inclinations and just say... so long Steve, you were always nice to me.

With practice I believe it's possible to develop a knack for surrendering to one's better nature, to let go into that part of ourselves that wants to do the right but difficult thing. Almost everybody who has ever picked up a pint of Hagen Daz has also had the impulse, however quiet, to eat a warm nutrient-dense meal and go for a jog. One can allow oneself to be carried away by that "still small voice" that actually wants, against all reason, to eat brussel sprouts.

Here we have a sticky modern dilemma. Most people agree that humor is a good thing and we want to avoid hurting people's feelings. My sense is that society has swung too far in the direction of protecting feelings at the expense of humor and playfulness. Which brings me to a joke: A black carsalesman, a hassidic Jew, and a vegan lesbian walk into a bar... Oh, nevermind...

@Cobie Although I have a different take on Taomeow's fable than you do, I appreciate the fact that you want to highlight compassion as a Taoist value. I agree with ZYD that compassion is often underemphasized by Taoists here on the forum.

Taoist wisdom is for the wise. There's a common understanding that to "follow the tao" is to let oneself flow along rather passively with external conditions -- ie if it's raining you get wet. But is this passivity, this abandonment of common sense, truly Taoist? Or does the seeker who goes out in a storm sans umbrella misunderstand the nuanced meaning of wuwei? The student here was a fool because he took wuwei to mean doing nothing, a common misunderstanding of nonaction. Taoist wisdom (the wisdom of wuwei, for instance) is for the wise because fools misconstrue it's meaning and end up wet. In this tale Laozi allows the student to experience the negative consequences of his wrong thinking. This is, as Taomeow points out, true wuwei. The sage allows the universe to work through him. It might seem cruel or uncompassionate -- theft, even -- but it's really just a matter of natural consequences. If you're willing to believe that being spiritual means not taking action to better your circumstances, you're gonna get soaked. From a certain point of view, letting the student receive a soaking is compassionate. Parables, like jokes, are usually better left unexplained but I couldn't resist throwing in my own interpretation. Perhaps I got it wrong? Taoist wisdom is, after all, for the wise.

I once remarked to a friend that I don't like to read novels unless someone dies -- and preferably not by natural causes. My taste in literature is admittedly sociopathic but even spiritual teaching tales need a touch of conflict, a playful edge. Reading should be fun. Hardworking, compassionate authors reward their readers time with wit, cleverness, and the occasional plot twist. I'm not bothered by the occasional stolen fictional umbrella.

Within the context of Buddhist thought, suffering has a particular definition and, like @steve has said, it's often misunderstood. Ironically, it's my unscientific opinion that serious Buddhist practictioners suffer much less than average. But putting Buddhism aside for a moment, I love what helpfuldemon is saying here. Our brains tend to focus on the negative and it's easy to get bogged down in despair. What a relief it is to recognize that there's good in life as well!

The microcosmic orbit is a hot topic. Some Bums hold that guiding energy with the mind is counterproductivealtogether. (See @freeform.) That said, an old teacher of mine, Gilles Marin, recommends exactly the path you suggest. My only caution would be to not to spend a lot of focused non-moving time concentrating on the heart center.

I'm not concerned with pissing off Manitou. Before you can say Principles, Not Personalities ten times fast, Manitou will have processed her pissed-off-edness. With her custom blend of 12-step wisdom, emotional courage, and a touch of witchy Daoist alchemy, that Bum will emerge Strong, more in tune with the universe than ever. Emotions are the path.

You might talk to other practitioners of Fragrant Qigong or the teacher. I'm not familiar with Fragrant Qigong but tend to think that if you've practiced diligently for three months that should count as a good try. I suggest moving on.

I'm not certain what you're trying to say here, Invisible Acropolis, but I've got a hunch you're not finding value in my posts. If that's the case, I wonder if you're familiar with the site's ignore feature? Feel free to try it out with me if you like. I won't mind.

I love this. To me it feels like spontaneity. Is this wu-wei? I think the truest actions spring forth from a deep place inside us. Not sure if there's an intention or not but at least there's not the intention of the everyday figuring-things-out mind.

Thanks manitou -- I love it too! Can't take credit for the phrase though. Not sure what the earliest use was but it's part of the title of a book by Buddhist teacher Tara Brach, Radical Acceptance: Embracing your Life with the Heart of a Buddha.