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"If our contemporaries as a whole could see what it is that is guiding them and where they are really going, the modern world would at once cease to exist as such..."

Silence as a shattering of ego

 

"Silence is the cross on which we must crucify our ego" - St. Seraphim of Sarov

I came across this quote at a perfect time, when feeling slightly wronged by another, with the cortisol-dread feeling in my chest that I should confront them, but not really looking forward to it. Right away, the words were a salve to my tensed up heart, and it got me thinking...particularly about silence as a response.

Intuitively, this felt right and like the more transcendent, more Godly, patient, gentle approach. As I thought more about it, though, I did come upon a couple of caveats. One is that yes, certainly many issues do need to be talked through, and we do need to hold ourselves and others accountable for behaviors. Confrontation shouldn't be avoided at all costs in favor of submissiveness, but sometimes it might be best to be silent, and to let this silence be its own prayer, a lesson from God straight to us.

Another caveat about choosing silence as a response when we feel defensive or as though we've been wronged is that this silence must not be a pregnant silence, meant to punish or convey upset, disappointment, anger... instead, if we choose this method, we should focus on an internal cleansing in that moment, via prayer or song perhaps, that we may truly let this perceived slight go, and to release trying to control others thoughts, responses, beliefs, or attitudes toward us.

If we feel ourselves emotionally triggered, or if there is enough of a discrepancy in comprehension and emotional intelligence, a solution-oriented conversation is probably not likely, and the exchange will deteriorate rapidly into a fussing of egos, dueling monologues.  

I have found recently that this technique is humbling and helps me feel closer to God, while also training me to detach from this endless cycle of human reaction.

Traditionalism vs Perennialism

Traditionalism and Perennialism- the two words are often used interchangeably, even by myself, though this might not be the most accurate as they do have precise meanings, with distinction. 

Perennialism aims to point out that there are similar veins of truth amongst all religions, so much like a perennial flower will have various blossoms, below the surface lies the root from which all those flowers come. Just as simply, it can be compared to language, where we have different words across cultures to convey the same idea.

I believe it's correct to say that the Traditionalist thinkers believe this to be true as well, so where do they differ? While there are numerous similarities between the two, there seems to be one main difference.

The main distinction, as far as I can tell, is that Perennialists might pick and choose ideas they like, or that resonate with them, from different religious traditions, a la carte style, to form their own path to God. This rubs up against New Ageism quite closely, and even blurs the line at times, with some perennialists fitting into that New Age category. This is actually a postmodern approach to transcendence or union with God, very much individualist, assuming that down here at the lowliest levels, we as nafs, as lowercase-s selves, as egos, might be able to trailblaze a new path up the mountain that is somehow better than, or more true than, the hundreds of thousands of lives and years before us were able to carve out. 

While a Traditionalist would hold that a particular path must be followed, and that the path up the mountain is there, and is so well worn, because it works, because it is true. Therefore, the primary distinction between Traditionalism and Perennialism is that the latter is more self-directed, picking and choosing--even kleptomaniac--while the former is established, disciplined, clearly laid out, and includes the larger scale such as social order and community. 

This is a tough one for me.

I have felt that in this age, perhaps no priests, no gurus or sages, exist out there that I could trust enough to follow on such an important path as the one to Truth, to God, to the immortality of my own soul. Therefore, I've resolved to discover it on my own through personal study of the old texts and prayer, consulting God directly. When it comes to study though, we only have so much, so far we can go back, with the Rig Veda being the oldest text of this category. The Abrahamic approach does feel too modern and corrupted for me, and intuitively... not correct- like a newer modern religion in contrast to, say, Sanatana Dharma. Yet, following this path as an American is very difficult as it so easily gets tangled up in Orientalism and of course the God fabric around me is stamped with Christianity as the way to relationship with God, usually through a Protestant lens which feels very far from the truth, with little to no asceticism, no inward ontological restructuring, more externally focused, where prayer has been shamefully reduced to asking for favors.

So, for now, I continue to pray to the oldest name of God I can find--Narayana--and to replace as many of my profane thoughts with thoughts of Him, praying to be guided to Truth, to know it when I come across it, and guided away from distractions or knowledge that is not aligned with Truth. I learn as much as I can to discover the proper way to behave, to think, to be.

Jaya Srimannarayana.

The fifth Veda?

Pulling from the ideas in my last post on transcendence in the Kali Yuga (if it's truly possible in an era where we are so attached to the physical reality, especially these dense bodies), transformation was suggested as a companion approach, rather than relying on transcendence alone as the path of relationship with God and survival of the soul at death.

In his Yoga of Power, Evola offers one specific technique for transforming the dormant energies in the body:

"...the Tantras have claimed for themselves the dignity befitting a 'fifth Veda.' that is, a further revelation beyond what is found in the traditional four Vedas. To this they added a reference to the doctrine of the four ages (yugas) of the world. It is claimed that the teachings, rites, and disciplines that would have been viable in the first age (the Krita or Satya Yuga)\,the equivalent of Hesiod's 'golden age') are no longer fit for people living in the following ages, especially in the last age, the 'dark age' (Kali Yuga, the 'Iron Age,' 'the age of the Wolf' in the Edda). Mankind in these later ages may find knowledge, a worldview, rituals, and adequate practices for elevating humans over and beyond their condition and for overcoming death (mrityun javate), not in the Vedas and in other strictly traditional texts, but rather in the Tantras and the Aganas. It is stated therefore that only Tantric practices based on shakti (shakti-sadhana) are suitable and efficacious in our contemporary age: all the others are considered to be as powerless as a snake deprived of its poison."

With Tantra, action replaces contemplation. Much like Yoga requires determined practice, Tantra calls the initiate onto a path of direct experience. 

However, at least in the West, Tantra is [likely mis]understood as some kind of orgiastic event, delighting in sensory pleasure, probably due to commercialism and the sweeping contemporary watering down of all attempts at divinity and union, but I'm not yet sure.

My knee-jerk concern is this: would this approach not be to further bolster the self, the ego, activating the sensory pleasures and steering away from self-purification? If this transformation is to unlock the dormant energies the body possesses, absorbing and transforming them into personal power, how does this contribute to union with God? Is it self-focused like so many of the modern/digital spiritualities this article so elegantly calls attention to?

Though it does seem if this path were to be taken, the power it could unlock in the individual would require as a precursor, a properly initiated person, who could wield the power wisely, that is- for transcendence, otherwise the approach is dangerous.

I don't have an answer yet; much more to learn.

Michelangelo's Dream. Painted by Joseph Noel Paton (1821–1901)

"It is therefore not enough to abide by the theory of the identity between the deeper self (atman) and the principle of the universe (brahman) and 'to remain idle,' vaguely thinking of the conscious ether.' The Tantras deny the value of knowledge to this. In order to obtain true knowledge, one must be transformed by action..." - Julius Evola, The Yoga of Power

Transcendence in a dark age

I've come across a new perspective recently which struck me as very reasonable and possible; this is the notion that the teachings for transcendence of antiquity might not suffice for you and I here in the midst of a dark age, dense in our materiality. 

"It is claimed that the teachings, rites, and disciplines that would have been viable in the first age (the Krita or Satya Yuga, the equivalent of Hesiod's 'golden age') are no longer fit for people living in the following ages, especially in the last age, the "dark age" Kali Yuga, the 'Iron Age,' the 'Age of the Wolf' in the Edda)." -Julius Evola, The Yoga of Power

Evola goes on to highlight essential features of the Kali Yuga we find ourselves in now, one of which is that:

"... mankind living in this age is strictly connected to the body and cannot prescind from it; therefore, the only way open is not that of pure detachment (as in early Buddhism and in the many varieties of yoga) but rather that of knowledge, awakening, and mastery over secret energies trapped in the body. 

So is a transcendent path enough during a time when debauched living is a societal norm that we've all grown up around? Can we even recognize our low standards amidst such debased living reflected in the world around us? Is it even possible in the degree that would be required to make the Olympian leap, for the soul to survive death? Is devoting our hearts, our thoughts, our wisdom-seeking toward God, behaving righteously, and singing or chanting our devotional songs as many times each day as we can manage... is it substantial, in this era, for any save the very exceptional tucked away in monasteries?

Evola goes on to respond that it isn't, and that transformation is also necessary.

"The second characteristic is that of the dissolution typical of this age. During the Kali Yuga, the bull of dharma stands on only one foot (it lost the other three during the previous ages). This means that the traditional law (dharma) is wavering, is reduced to a shadow of its former self, and seems to almost be succumbing. During Kali Yuga, however, the goddess Kali, who was asleep in the previous ages, is now fully awake. [...] This symbolism implies that during the last age elementary, infernal, and abyssal forces are untrammeled. The immediate task consists in facing and absorbing these forces..."

Are we capable of that, I wonder? Of interacting with unseen and strange forces, not grasped by modern man, enough to be able to absorb and victoriously transform them, thereby elevating our own ontological nature?

Certainly such a process would require proper Initiation first, and can a true guru be found in this age? Is self-initiation possible? If so, I believe it would be vital still to maintain ones daily devotional rituals to God together with this approach, staying prayerful and centered when encountering such forces, and especially if ever absorbing them into your own being.

Morning sea fog dance

 

Currently reading

With Fulcanelli popping up twice for me in the last week - once while listening to this podcast episode, and then a few days later behind glass in a locked bookcase in a used book shop, the first American edition, with a hefty price tag - I figured it was finally time to delve into that mystery. This ought to be fun.

"The secret of alchemy is this: there is a way of manipulating matter and energy so as to produce what modern scientists call 'a field of force.' The field acts on the observer and puts him in a privileged position vis-à-vis the universe. From this position he has access to the realities which are ordinarily hidden from us by time and space, matter and energy. This is what we call 'The Great Work'."

"...the vital thing is not the transmutation of metals but that of the experimenter himself."

Riding the Tiger - a new embroidery

Whilst snowed in last week, I was finally able to complete the embroidery I've been working on.

 

Beauty in etiquette, demeanor, mind

Star of Peace, by Michael Whelan

The women I find most beautiful and intriguing are not necessarily possessing of the most perfect faces or bodies. Rather, it is a more subtle quality that attracts and inspires me, which is what beauty must do, yes? A side note: When I speak of finding a female beautiful or attractive, as a woman myself, I mean this in a very nonsexual way. I've been told more than once in my life that I'm the "straightest woman X has ever met" and this is very true. That said, though, I am very drawn to, appreciative of, and inspired by beauty, in its myriad forms. 

All this said, I do find myself drawn to certain females, and I find a feminine attraction to be very distinct from the male kind that I'm so familiar with. So this is a different field of beauty and the potential for inspiration- there is architectural inspiration, there is literary inspiration, that is- beauty in the structuring of words and thoughts, beauty in the natural world, beauty in the relationship with man as a woman, and beauty in observing the female nature as another woman. And in embodying that which I find beautiful and inspiring and good. 

In observing other women that I find something of the divine in, something beautiful, something that inspires me, certainly there is an aspect of physical beauty present but I have come to realize that the women I enjoy observing most are the ones that might go unnoticed in crowds. The standard woman of America who has perfected her fitness and mastered the cheekbone contour with makeup - not to dismiss either of those things - is, to me, just another expensive house in a depressing upper middle class suburb. By this I mean- boring, a quality of sameness, and a certain predictability. I don't find it inspiring, which is to say I don't find it beautiful either. 

Sunrise, by Leopold Schmutzler

After giving this more thought, over time, I've come to realize that the beauty and inspiration (I do seem to use these words synonymously, which I hope isn't confusing or in error) I derive from observing certain women stems primarily from the way they are, far and above how they look. It just so follows that the inner quality of the females I find so beautiful and intriguing seems to also inform their outer qualities. So they do tend to carry an outer beauty as well, though different from the norm, as its informed by, graced by, this inner nature which is the root.

It was whilst watching a documentary about the secret world of the geishas, who value beauty in mannerism over mere physical beauty, that I began noticing it is the etiquette of women that first intrigues me, grabs my attention, makes me observe from afar. During which time I'm waiting, watching for those modern tones to surface, to show themselves and make a bore of it all, wash away the magic of maybe possibly possessing... Something Other. 

I love Traditional women the most, not to be confused with a 1950's housewife stereotype of simple submission and flowery dresses, but those who have somehow managed to shed the heavy cultural cloak of feminism, who have interesting and developed minds outside the predictable and stale downloads of academia, who can touch on a variety of unusual and sophisticated histories, philosophies, arts, and sciences far beyond the public school bookshelves of Marx and Kant. 

I adore females who are quiet, even soft-spoken- oh to hear a soft and soothing female voice in these times of deepened women's voices, in these times of the feminine run wild which has ironically enough made women more masculine as there is no grounding force- a dire lack of Shiva, the lightning rod to ground the chaos of Shakti. This soft-spokenness I don't want to confuse with lacking confidence or maturity, but rather a possessing of grace and elegance so as to be in control of oneself enough to be able to hold ones tongue well- in this multitude of words we exist in, how valuable the one who can refrain, then, when speaking, do so as to strike, to make an impact, even gently. 

And beyond all this, I love women who are quietly happy, clearly contented in a way that reflects a disciplined and developed interior world. 

This form of beauty, this rare combining of ways of being, is very needed in these times. I can count on one hand the female figures who have inspired me in this way, and if I use both hands then I could include some fictional characters I've seen on film or met online who seem to uphold the virtues.

Koyuki in the Last Samurai

If I think about what makes these traits and behaviors so attractive, I believe it comes down to that they seem to point to a level of detachment from the world, an inner serenity and calm, which are all qualities, at least precursors, of forging a path to the transcendent.

The Longing to Seclude Oneself

Getting snowed in--though admittedly purposefully-- in a small, creekside, tree-canopied cottage, and getting to live out the most refreshing series of days in remembrance, will give one pause to ponder why being alone feels so good. [It's worth noting here that I'm not truly alone, being a married woman, though in time we have worked out how to be two existing solitudes when we wish, so I'll go on to refer to being alone as such.] Not just alone, but removed. There is a difference, since one can be "alone" in their apartment in a city. But to be alone and removed, outside the sphere even of mental influence of other minds for days on end, no longer feeling as a character on the anxious stage of the ever-unfolding human drama. 

I've loved, been accustomed to, solitude for most of my life- growing up as an only child who spent a great deal of her time alone in a blue-carpeted, blue-walled bedroom listening to Tool and watching the ceiling fan rotate to pass the afternoon, or gallivanting around the countryside hills and corn fields an entire Saturday, fixating on shapes of rocks and how red clay straight from the ground could be molded into bricks. This later morphed into seeking to live in far out, rural and secluded places, which finally took form early in my 20's and has continued since, now reaching a pinnacle of residing in a county twice the size of Rhode Island with not a single traffic light, in the rugged mountains of America's Inland Northwest, with only 3 people per square mile. Were it not for my family ties, I would go farther.

There is something very sacred in living one's life quietly, without calling attention, without being so easily accessible, and likewise unable to access the lives of others. In withdrawing, being alone, out away from the noise of human maneuverings, I find a connection with the transcendent, that is, with God and higher experiences, to be more easily within reach, more consistent, nearly tangible. One can fall into this current without any thought of being interrupted and, oh, the "places" that can be reached! The shedding of the vanity of daily life can be felt as a deep cleanse and purification. 

"The urge to withdraw has always been stronger in me than the urge to take part in the world in any way. People would often come, with what I deemed, vulgar and profane suggestions, that seemed not to address the core sentiment behind the urge to withdraw - and that is the sentiment that everything is vanity. Children, jobs, marriage, lovers - all a noise, a comfortable attachment to help one pass through existence." - Orphic Inscendence, Urge to Withdraw

 

In this life of mine, at this stage of it, I certainly don't feel bored, but I do feel a sense of... as Naida puts it, being aged. 

"I felt aged - like I've already seen it all, had hundreds of children and husbands and wives, like I've been a criminal, a priest, a queen, a prostitute, and there was nothing left for me to be anymore. All the roles seemed too familiar and already explored and lived. It wasn't nihilism that was behind the urge to withdraw - it was inability to see any evidence of my belief that there had to be more to life than dying with a stomach more full than you started with." - Orphic Inscendence, Urge to Withdraw

This feeling of familiarity, of having done it all already, reduces many of the human concerns and dramas into mediocrities, cultivating an indifference to participation. Feeling simply uninterested in it all, what is one to do but to retire to their own devices, far away, and to devote their life to that upward path, which is to God. Though I can't help feeling I've done that before too, still it feels right.

Agafia Lykov's existence is one I've long found inspiration in. Her family were one of many Old Believers who fled Russia in 1936, believing their religion to be under attack. They trekked deep into the wilds of Siberia, and this is where Agafia was born, in a hollowed out pine washtub. The family of six spent over forty years in isolation until they were discovered by a team of geologists in 1978, though at that point only a family of five as the mother, Akulina, had perished from starvation in 1961, sacrificing herself so the children might live. (You can learn more about this story as I did in the book Lost in the Taiga.) To this day, Agafia resides alone in the taiga, now age 77. All her life is an ascetic feat. 

The 2012 Austrian-German film The Wall (or- Die Wand) gives me pause for thought. In it, a woman visits friends at a hunting lodge in the Austrian Alps. Later, as her friends head into a nearby village leaving her alone with the dog, she soon finds that she's been cut off from the rest of the world by an invisible wall. Years of hardship, depression, and despair portray seclusion as a terror, but is her experience closer to the marrow of what this life is for? Certainly the comforts and social expectations of daily life were removed, but must this be so jarring? Is there not an opportunity there? Surely there is, and we catch glimpses of this throughout the film, such as in her second summer when she writes that her "newer self" seemed to be getting "absorbed into a greater whole."

But what I observe in life is that most people are not interested in solitude or silence or going inward much at all. I think this is because there is a noise to life- both external and internal, which we are very accustomed to hearing, and when those sounds dim, the void brings an anxiety. So solitude and asceticism go hand in hand, much like someone in a mode of crisis should not be told to meditate- the state of their mind at current is not a healthy place to linger. Maybe to enjoy solitude and to yearn for a far away natural setting as the canvas for ones life, certain preparations must first be made, of an internal kind. 

If we believe in the transmigration of souls, then it also follows that not every soul is ready for this approach to life, or is even in need of it yet. With this in mind, it's unrealistic for us to expect others to understand our longings for this worldly detachment and unconcern and for wanting to be far away, just as we cannot exist for long in their chosen environments without fatigue and dullness setting in. 

"Constant and unalloyed devotion to Me; aspiring to live in a solitary place; detachment from the general mass of people; … [ – all these I declare to be knowledge]." -- Bhagavad Gita, 13.11

 

In order for our inner territory to be interesting, introspective practices should be performed regularly- reading, seeking wisdom, yoga, meditation, writing, contemplation, and prayer, to name a few. And if you are reading this and feel similarly but have yet to make sense of it, might I suggest one place to begin is in watching this series, and taking time to reflect on the teachings therein, which might help you understand why you feel the way you do, longing to seclude from the world. There are good reasons for feeling this way, especially here in the Kali yuga.

Philosophical principles to live one's life by

1.) Discernment     2.) Prayer    3.) Intrinsic morality     4.) Conducting oneself and one's life beautifully

"Discernment between the Absolute and the relative-- Atma and Maya. Reality and illusion and so on. And then prayer. Because if you believe, if you understand what is Essential and what is Absolute, you want to assimilate it. Otherwise one is a hypocrite. And in order to assimilate the truth of the Absolute, you must pray. There are three kinds of prayer: First, canonical prayer. In Christianity, it's the Lord's Prayer. And then, free personal prayer, like the Psalms in the Bible. David's Psalms, is personal prayer. Talk to God. And third is prayer of the heart. Essential prayer, which is an act of contemplation in the innermost Self. And this is esoterism. And I'm interested in this, and I say to people, "You must pray. Always pray." You must have at least one canonical prayer every day, and then you must talk to God. But you must always pray like St. Paul said in an Epistle, always pray. And this is prayer of the heart. And the Eastern church knows this practice very well -- the Jesus prayer. Japa yoga in Hinduism. This is the second thing. And the third thing is intrinsic morality. Beauty of the soul. Nobility. Humility, which means objectivity towards oneself/ Charity, which is objectivity towards the neighbor. Domination of oneself. Generosity, this is the beauty of the soul. This is intrinsic morality. And then, the fourth dimension is beauty of forms, of surroundings, of dress, of comportment. That's all."