Otis

Hi Steve. Thanks for your response. I think we are still using the word differently, because to me: intent is a story-based projection into the future (e.g. I want to do _____). As such, intent seems like a uniquely egoic action. Nothing else tells stories about what they wish will happen. Whereas, states, drives and emotions (in my view) are all pre-ego. They are just other parts of my organism, steering me. They are just doing their jobs, creating part of the path of least resistance, by aligning my organism in a certain direction, with or without the awareness of the ego. They can all be part of what allows wu wei. "My" intent actually inhibits the natural expression of my body's drives and emotions, which I think are my natural steering mechanisms.

I have many friends who use the word "intention" in a way that is very positive to them. They will often declare an intention, before starting a task. It is sometimes a very specific outcome that they state, but it is more often a general mood or atmosphere that they are suggesting. For example, before a meeting, an intention may be set, for all participants to listen with open minds and hearts, and to continually see the value in each other. Or something like that. So in this case, the "intention" is the agreed-upon value that the group is aligning around. From what I hear, that intention is often very powerful, because it creates "buy-in" to the central ethic, and hence a more coherent and peaceful conversation. On the other hand, some of the same friends also use "intention" as a Law of Attraction spell. E.g. I am setting the intention that I will get rich. That version of intention seems more like wishful thinking, although I can see how it could help to align the person after a goal. After enjoying the freedom of wu wei, "intent" seems to me like a trap, a way of substituting my fantasies, for what's real. But I also do some planning, and remind myself to buckle down and for example, look for a job. These are intentions, too, of course. I am trying to surrender more and more into a wu wei life, but so far, a hybrid life is the best I seem able to manage, without crashing, financially or socially. So I'm seeing the value of "intention", but I'm practicing, so that I can continue to emerge, beyond it.

When experiencing a small-t tao, such as: how do I efficiently move a large rock? I may think I'm experiencing the tao of the rock, but the truth is: I'm experiencing the tao of (me moving the rock). It's all relationship. I am never out of the picture. Someone else's body may find a different tao, that works specifically with their strengths and weaknesses. At present, I can't imagine an exception to this rule. The tao that I experience is always my tao, even though it's relating to the taos of other objects and people. Therefore, there is no knowable Tao beyond my interaction with/as life. It is a great metaphor, but as far as I can tell, utterly unknowable. What I gain from the metaphor is: to stop viewing the many taos of my life as separate. To experience flow, not only within one action, but throughout the day, throughout the life. Rather than having a tao, to be a tao!

I think that's an interesting concept. Of course, I can't imagine how we would ever find it out. I have my experiences, but I don't know what to compare them to, since they're all I've got.

I think I have a different definition of "intent" than the way you're using it here. What I'm hearing you say is "balance". The sun has a balance, of rotational energy, of gravity vs. expansion, of tidal forces and electromagnetism, etc. That is its tao. But there is no goal, plan, or any other kind of projection into the future. That's what "intent" means to me.

This matches my experience. My most pure experience of wu wei is during solo dance, in which my body does its own dance, and I add as little intent to it, as possible. If I do add the least intent (e.g. push it a little), it almost always throws me out of the flow. Best yet, is when I not only add no intent, but am also totally non-self-conscious about how I'm doing, and not even telling a story about what I'm doing. No why, how, what, or even who. I am merely experiencing, but with no projection into the future, or storytelling about the past. I never know what it is that has happened during this experience; there's no story-like memory. I just know that the experience was glorious.

Agreed. Of course, the question that raises for me is: did they believe that their intentions were good? And if so, then what is it that I believe that I'm doing for the sake of good, but which I'm really just justifying to myself?

That's fair. I don't mean to tell others what their experience is. My own path has been largely a tantric one, and so I use fewer and fewer metaphors, as I go along. Concepts aren't necessary, when I'm just listening to sensation, and not choosing. But I started off, with a lot more metaphors, and it is in that conversion of metaphor-to-awareness that imagination plays a powerful role. Imagination still plays a role for me, but in a more subtle way. It is less about forecasting my future experience, but rather about shrugging off the habits of consciousness that shape experience. Imagination, without concepts, appears as an empty field that can help to clear my awareness, as I surrender to non-self behavior.

I've mentioned recently that I've been watching a lot of historical documentaries recently, particularly on WWII, and so have been thinking about the actions of the many German people who went along with the Nazis. Their actions were socially harmonious, at least with their immediate culture. And I'm sure most of them convinced themselves that they were doing something necessary, if not righteous. So in that case, the intent (do the best thing for Germany) and social agreement (I'll go along with my peers) led to horrific results (killing unarmed innocents). "The Hamburg Cell" is a movie about the radicalization of the 9/11 hijackers, and again, their intent was seemingly noble (pro-Allah) and they were in concert with their immediate society (the other radicals). So, in other words, intent isn't worth jack, since intent is as corruptible as any other form of self-image. Intent is just another way of fooling myself into thinking I'm doing the right thing. That's why it's so important to surrender notions of "the right thing" and of self-image, because they're both traps. Even "personal harmony" is a dubious goal, because a strong self-image and sense of "what's right" can create a very simple, non-nuanced view of reality, and hence a self-assured, harmonious mental interior (at least until the existential crisis arises). Again, why I embrace "I don't know": because therefore I have no justification, I have no mentor, I have no tradition, to tell me what's right. If I don't know, then I have to humble myself before the immediate situation, and learn about what's going on. I have to empty myself of intent, and learn to listen, in order to make an action that is harmonious not just with my society, but also with the world in general.

Good link, and great to hear that you are experiencing so much peace and equanimity!

Hi Otis. Could you elaborate a bit on the bolded? I'm a bit lost. I am not saying that concepts like Qi, chakras, and so on, are not pointing at something useful. Not at all. I am merely pointing out how important the imagination, the pretending, is for entering into the realm of any metaphor, including Qi. For example: we can have an experience of unity, but it is not until we have taken on the metaphor of "God", that our experience will take on the specific feeling of "being touched by God". The shaping of the experience is done through the imagination. The Qi ball is likewise something that is first felt through the imagination. If I ask a noob to just do the mechanical rote actions, no such experience will be felt, because the actions are in context of his previous metaphor. But if I suggest that what is between his hands is a ball of energy, then his experience will be very different, because his imagination will shape his awareness. Again, this is not to say that what he is aware of is a delusion (at least not until he starts calling it "truth"). The awareness is true, but not the concept. The concept is just a finger pointing at the awareness. The imagination is how we ride the concept into a new awareness. Imagination is dismissed in our culture as kid stuff, but in fact, it is an amazing tool, that makes an enormous difference in how we experience the world.

LOL! Well, it is the big kahuna, as I see it. Since self is a constellation of habit, and habit is an expression of certainty, than the only way to surrender "self" is to surrender certainty. Delusion is mistaking my view of the world for the actual world. So the only way to surrender the impact of delusion is to surrender the importance of "my view". What is "emptiness," if not "I don't know"? What does dependent origination point to, if not "I don't know"? What does "the Tao that can be spoken is not the true Tao" point to, if not "I don't know"?

Excellent! The power of metaphors! My view of the world had become so rigid, that it helps to play, to pretend that I am something else. When I do, I step temporarily out of the habitual certainties of perception and action, and imagine my way into a new freedom. The imagination, IME, is an enormously important tool for liberation. As you might guess, metaphors have played a great part in freeing myself to dance. Imagine myself as a Tango dancer, or as a snake, or as a spinning vortex, and my bodymap softens, and allows new exploration. Likewise with Qi Gong. It is imagination that creates Qi balls, etc. They are just metaphors for sensation and awareness. It is play, pretend, that does the freeing, that liberates flow. The point is to shake up the old way of perceiving, and finding a new way of relating to my body. Of course, eventually, the metaphors have to go, as well. I think that one of the great traps of tradition and religion, is that its practitioners start to mistake these useful metaphors for "what is". But if we remember that it is all just play, just pretend games, then we can surrender the old, without becoming burdened by the new.

Sounds great! Change up the perception of what's real and what's important (objects vs. space), and the things that had previously felt important (perceived problems) are revealed as illusions.

According to the "Idiot's Guide to Taoism", the literal translation of chapter 1 is: "tao can tao not constant tao". In other words, the way that can be seen as a way, is not the eternal way. Or alternately: once you try to break it down, you are in the realm of delusion. The "constant Tao" is the way of the entire Universe (or even multiverse). It is utterly unknowable, because we are but tiny specks. So anything that we can break down and analyze is just a small portion, a "local" tao. We shouldn't mistake our experience of these taos as being the "constant Tao"; that is delusion. I am like a musical instrument; I can be played in many ways, but I am always limited by the type of instrument I am. You can put your lips to a piano and blow, but it will never sound like a trumpet. Therefore, if I experience "tao", then I am really just experiencing myself, in a certain state. I do not, cannot, experience the "actual world", because I am always experiencing as a piano, and never as a trumpet. Nothing non-piano gets through. In other words, the capital-T Tao points only towards "I don't know". As soon as we say "I know", then we are mistaking ourselves, for the Universe. We are mistaking the simulacrum, for the actual.

Nice share, CowTao. I like Sea Urchin's interpretation, especially the "surfing at the front edge of the now" concept. I have a parallel interpretation, that folds in some of my understanding of psychology. The "I" was originally a structure in the brain, designed as a conduit for awareness. "Vision manifests" because it is not the "I" which is responsible for vision. The "I" is just a pipeline, through which awareness pours. Once language was learned, that brain structure separated itself from the awareness, that passed through it. It started naming everything, and then it started believing that the data of awareness, was actually the world. Once it started seeing awareness as things, then it also started to see threats. Soon the "I" was in a panic: I have to control this thing, this world, because it is so threatening. Of course, none of these perceptions were (or could be) accurate to "what is", because the "I" was not even paying attention to the actual world. It was only paying attention to its own model of the world, the awareness that flowed through its structure. The "I" was not privy to the fact that other parts of its brain were fusing the data together to form awareness, nor to the fact that still other parts were making the decisions, and beginning the actions. The "I" didn't even know how to control the body (because that was never its job), so it built all kinds of habit, and beefed up its willpower, in order to try its best to control self and other. "Everything is already accomplished" because the decisions are made elsewhere than the "I". The "I" mistakenly views the awareness of a decision, as if I made the decision myself. But the decision was made, prior to my awareness of it. It's already happened, and I am just adding my effort (in either direction) on top of the event that's already going on. Unfortunately, the "effort" that the "I" has access to, is really a low-level form of panic; it's a form of jamming on the brakes, rather than a motivating and managing function. It is, indeed, a "sickness". Because we are used to living with this low level of panic, we are only aware that something is wrong, when there is a strong division between what the body/brain is doing vs. what the "I" thinks it should be doing. For example, when the body walks close to the edge of a tall building, the body itself is not afraid. But the "I" freaks out, because it suddenly is faced with the fact that it is not the controller of the body. So the "I" slams on its brakes, and suffers vertigo, an awareness of internal schism. When the "I" stops trying to be in control, and allows itself just to be a conduit for awareness again, then the body can walk along the edge, without panic. This is the "self-perfected state". It is not an advanced state, just a natural one. Ordinary consciousness is sometimes called the same as enlightenment, because it is only when we experience the schism, the "should I be doing this?" or "am I doing this right?" (or of course, the awareness that I am not in control), that we become lost in vertigo and panic. "There is no concept that can define the condition of 'what is'" - this is the answer to surrendering panic. Living life as "I don't know" means giving up definitions, means giving up separation. If "I" stop trying to figure it out, and instead, just allow myself to return to my original function (i.e. the conduit for awareness), then the rest of the brain can continue its process, without me mucking it all up with my panic and vertigo, with my trying and avoiding. "I" become just a function, within the larger organism, and the brain is able to live in peace; "all is good".

Whoops. Copyright music issue. Music replaced, and I've replaced the video (above).

LOL!

It's mixed, I think. On another thread, someone was calling Steve F a backstabber, precisely because Steve was arguing against insults, as a way of conversation. It was both bizarre and unsettling, especially since I have only witnessed Steve as a very grounded, aware, clear and caring individual. So I see great momentum towards appreciation, curiosity, care and discovery, usually from the same respectful clear few. But I also see from others, a great deal of the need to be right, the need to win, the need to be superior. And to be fair, I have all those things in me! But IME these are not virtues, but traps. They have only blinded me, and kept me from learning from others. Unfortunately, in society sometimes overly-loud and overly-certain are convincing (witness fundamentalism and Glenn Beck). So, those who hold the most emphatic beliefs are often glorified, even if the beliefs are just overblown theories, and not based on awareness and experience. There's always room to move toward more joy. I'm proud of those in here, who keep themselves honest and respectful of others. I do my best (most of the time) to do that, as well. The rest, well, I don't know how to reach them, nor do I know whether there's any point in me worrying about them. If nothing else, they serve as a lesson to learn from, like my friend Leigh was to me.

Sweet. Thank you, Barb!

Awesome! The yin/yang of joy and suffering distinguish ease from forcing. They highlight the path of least resistance. Without joy, there is no reason to move forward. Without suffering, there is no sense of the path of joy. Best yet, is when we learn from suffering, how to transmute that suffering into joy, by listening patiently, honestly and courageously.

This is excellent, CowTao, thanks for sharing. I think there is an argument to be made, within this realization, for starting with no form at all. Maybe this is the problem, too with "all roads lead to Rome". Well, not all traditions achieve the same thing, if you're interested in traditions and achievement. But yes, I think all human beings have the capacity, within them, to find their own way to freedom. We all have built into us, our own road map to growth, joy, and freedom. It cannot be (successfully) put into words or into form, because it is merely an awareness. So rather than following a tradition or a form, we can also follow our inner guidance. In fact, eventually, to be free, I have to follow my own guidance. Otherwise, I am always living someone else's form, someone else's concepts. The qi gong that arises, spontaneously, from my body, may look like no one else's qi gong. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't work. My experience is that the less I try to force specificity, and the more I'm willing to just follow the path that awareness carves out in front of me, the more freedom I am able to find, and the less suffering and fighting arise within me.

Great share, Manitou (and comments, everyone). Unfortunately, I have seen grumpiness begin a lot sooner than 52. I've noticed it in myself, for example. My dear friend Leigh, who used to live next door, was my partner in crime on the road to grumpiness, for awhile. I'd hang out with her in the evenings, as she drank whiskey and watched her TV shows. She was a very funny and intelligent woman, but even in her early 30s, she was succumbing to schadenfreude, to grumpiness and misanthropy. Man, she loved to complain, and for awhile, I found myself enjoying that seductive posture of being against the world. There is, indeed, some neurochemical reward in the brain, for being sour and grumpy and superior. It's almost fun, for awhile. Thankfully, I started dating a woman (Outi) who was sunny and funny and loving. She helped me pick my head up from that increasing addiction to darkness, and enjoy the joyful levity of wanting the best for others. I still have a lot to learn, to open up that capacity, but I am ever so glad that I have been following her example, rather than Leigh's. I witnessed Leigh go on to get more and more brittle, to the point that she seems to have cut all possible romance out of her life, because she's not willing to be vulnerable. Thank you Leigh, and thank you Outi, for both being examples in my life, of what it means to embrace negativity, or to embrace joy.

Excellent!