Who are the black brothers?

(Caveat: I will say here that I claim no grade. I had some experiences once, and some people affirmed some things that may or may not be true, and I seem to be at a stage in life that equates to a grade, but who doesn't? Such things are really just a convention, a way of talking about things rather than something absolute. I say what I say now only by way of opinion, not from any authority, so take it or leave it in that spirit)

Every system has it's fair share of boogeymen and heretics. Perhaps the most infamous in the Tree of Life system, is the Black Brother. This figure stands in stark warning to the unwary initiate, 'you must give all of your blood for the cup, to do otherwise is to be a Black Brother' (or sister). In theory at least, a Black Brother could be defined as a mature Adeptus Exemptus who refuses the final step, usually defined as the leap into the Abyss. Another way of putting it might be that he is somebody who, on completing his journey to Chesed, and perceiving that the last thing to do is to embrace that emptiness which is being/non-being, at One with the All, and thus None, but instead refuses and chooses instead a life of personal aggrandisement, indulgence, self ego stroking. 

It strikes me as incomprehensible, that a person on the threshold of liberation, should refuse it, and choose instead to continue in their old ways. It has the ring of St Augustine's prayer:

"Oh lord, make me pure, but not yet!" 

Such a person has we suppose, had a glimpse of that infinite emptiness/fullness, and chosen instead to ignore it and instead amuse themselves building sand castles on the edge of the eternal ocean. However, my sense is that if a person has really, for an instant, caught an authentic glimpse of that eternity, they would not, could not, refuse. In fact, I doubt very much whether it would either be a choice, once you've seen it you're done, if you think you have a choice you aren't really there. It would be like a suffocating man refusing to take a breath, a fish refusing to swim. The moment you perceive it you know in your bones, you are that.

There are of course those who get a glimpse of something and freak out, reporting de-personalization, a sense of not existing, as sometimes happens in intense meditation retreats I am told, although I feel that such people are unusual and usually unstable, they don't stay in that state but make all effort to get back to their ordinary consciousness. An example I came across recently was a woman on YouTube talking about non-duality, and her body language and the way she spoke of her experience looked to me more like a mental break than enlightenment, but then what do I know?

We are told that in earlier grades and stages, the Black Brother cannot exist, since by definition such a person has not yet confronted emptiness. By this I don't mean intellectual assent in the concept, which is generally garnered much much earlier in the path, but actual direct apprehension. Once you have directly perceived a thing you cannot then un-know it, though you can of course be in denial.

It is also fashionable to label as Black Brother any aspirant/initiate who's personal views you dislike. There are of course liars, deceivers, egomaniacs abounding in the occult and religious spheres, all looking for a following, ready to tell a story to make themselves look good. We might be tempted to label such as Black Brothers, but my feeling is that they cannot be such, because if they even once perceived that emptiness, everything else would fade into insignificance. If you directly perceive truth even once it is like a breeze blowing into a dusty room, dispelling the cobwebs of the mind.

It is thus you can know that those who tick all the boxes for insincerity, egomania, and the rest are not in fact Black Brothers, but are of a much lower order. If I were to grade them I would say failed Practici, since truthfulness and integrity are central to that grade, so they are in fact no higher than Yesod, the Sphere of delusion. The Universe is based on truth, and if we are to be in harmony with it, then we must also base our lives on truth, not simply the inclination to not tell lies, but that essential integrity of nature  that is antithetical with falseness, with delusion, glamour and contradiction.

In the Inner Order Grades, one does not advance oneself. You don't fulfill a set of exams and move on to the next grade. Grades are not formal, but real, one cannot help but live in accordance with your inner truth, which is your real 'grade'. 

Grades are not bestowed from without either, another person might recognise you as this or that grade, but they cannot confirm it nor do they need it, anymore than a dog needs confirmation that it is in fact a dog. These grades are only recognitions of ones state of being. 5=6 appreciates his Karma (True Will) as the trajectory and nature of his life it is obvious when he sees it. 6=5 learns to live in accordance with it and gradually removes impediments to that nature (usually self imposed), and a 7=4 having become 'exempt' from Karma by having reduced internal contradictions to a level where they no longer thwart the overall trajectory of life, is in a position to teach, and must therefore write his thesis. It is by virtue of momentum (affinity with the dharma we might say), that he quite naturally merges into emptiness. No need to fling oneself or do violence to oneself or the universe in general.

The 7=4 who does not merge with emptiness naturally like this, was never really a 7=4. It isn't a choice, it is a destiny. Just as a caterpillar is destined to become a butterfly because it is its nature. If such a person, willfully (small w) tries to cross the 'abyss', it shows only that they are deluded about it, are 7=4 in name only. Such a person will not become a Black Brother because they by definition have not seen emptiness, even in a dream, and thus haven't turned back from anything. You have to know what you are giving up, to truly give it up. To 'give something up' implies duality, and if you have really perceived and known your own emptiness there is nothing to give up anyway.

So who are the Black Brothers? The very concept is a contradiction. There are those who directly perceive emptiness and embrace it, whom I suspect we never hear from, who possibly don't give a damn about it. And there are the rest of us in our ignorance, chips on our shoulders, planks in our eyes, perhaps contemplating emptiness but not really perceiving it. We like the idea of the Abyss, of Emptiness, but to us it is only a word, an idea, and where there are ideas there is no emptiness, we lose it the moment we conceptualize it.

Thus we are generally so far beneath this idea of the Abyss, even though were were to see it even for a moment we would be instantly across, yet while it might be closer than an arms length, it might as well be a universe away. To call somebody a Black Brother because you don't like their opinions, their politics, their dress sense, ignores the basic fact that such a person has most likely never even come close to truth, even in a dream, and so can't in fact be defined as a Black Brother. 

Who are the Black Brothers? 

They don't exist.

Memorising the holy books

 The practice of memorising chapters of the Holy books for A.'.A.'. students is one of the basic tasks of the grades. It is also, apparently one of those that seems to take the longest. I know that some instructors don't require this task, viewing it as time wasted on Crowley's bad poetry that could be more profitably employed elsewhere. 

I understand this attitude, I'm not a fan of them either, though I suppose I once was. As I've gotten older, what initially I took for a high style rich in references to the classics and various abstract concepts (they are in there) now strikes me as turgid, ponderous, pompous even, and a lot of it, especially the Book of the Law sets forth a philosophical system which, while some aspects bear up to observation, seems inherently flawed, and no matter how they are explained away many verses still give the impression of a sort of spiritual fascism of 'might makes right', a worm at the core of Thelema that I utterly reject. I don't want to go into that too deeply, but you only have to take the text for face value, with it's inherent spiritual aristocracy and trampling of anyone weaker than yourself it advocates, a sort of spiritual darwinism, let alone the sort of people who head the most visible Thelemic orders, to see.

However, despite my misgivings, I still advocate the memorising of the Holy Books in their respective grades. My reason is simple, I found in my own practice, that the memorisation tasks were a thread that ran through the whole grade work and strung it all together. When I was a Probationer I was working part time as a cleaner in my college, I would get up early in the mornings and spend two hours a day cleaning toilets, mopping floors and the rest. I kept a copy of Liber 65 in my pocket and whilst working, I would recite from memory verse by verse, over and over, checking from time to time and systematically adding a verse when I had memorised adequately. 

The task as I have said, strings the grade work together. It also discourages the casuals. I know of no initiate who has completed the grade work who hasn't also memorised their chapter, and those who have come to be tested before they were ready invariably had also not completed this task. But it really is that level of dedication to daily consistent practice that is necessary for anything worthwhile to come out of being an initiate. To put it simply, the act of going through the practices, literally forges you into that sort of person, develops the will, the consistency, and the self discipline that are necessary not just for the A.'.A.'., but for life in general. 

While I have my reservations, I have no alternative but to retain Crowley's Holy Books on the syllabus, though it's not my syllabus to change and since I no longer teach it, this makes no difference. My practice these days is with the Heart Sutra, and I have to admit that is going slowly, I am not as consistent as I could be, but then I am not trying to get anything out of it, no grade to attain, no goal, so I take a leisurely approach. However, I know full well from my time learning the Holy Books, that were I required to do so I could probably have it memorised, in chinese, within a year. That is what you get out of the tasks, and no initiate of the A.'.A.'., in my opinion, should neglect this task of the benefits to be gained from it. 

 

Dropping the ball

At the outset I should be clear. This post isn't an attack on Crowley or his followers. It is really just an expression of my disentangling myself from a system and way of thought that I invested a great deal of time an energy into, yet in the end feel obliged, for the sake of self-honesty, to view with a sense of skepticism, perhaps even disillusionment.

Perhaps I'm bitter. Perhaps I'm also grieving a little for the ending of a mode of life that I embraced for a long time. I am certainly processing something, so bear with me.

This is just how things look where I am right now, not some universal truth....

Reading through various texts like Liber E, eight lectures on yoga, the Vision and the Voice, etc, that describe Aleister Crowley’s magickal and mystical attainments, you might get the impression that here is a master of the arts who has had the sort of experiences and attainments that most of us can only dream of. The style of writing and the descriptions of experience, as well as his suggestions and ideas on the theory of yoga/meditation and the rest sounds legitimate from our perspective as inexperienced aspirants and interested outsiders. These visions and attainments led Crowley to believe that he was a Master of the Temple, one who had overcome the ego, and thus truly selfless. More than that, in his mind he was the Magus, the speaker of the Holy Logos which would guide humanity through the next Aeon of its existence. He was in his own mind, in short, the new 'World Teacher'.

I have to admit that I swallowed this, hook line and sinker for a long time when I was starting out, and maintained it (I shudder to admit) through force of will rather than any deep conviction, I was too invested to just let go. Like a lot of keen A\A\ aspirants I subconsciously measured myself against Crowley, thinking that I needed to get this or that kind of experience at a given grade. To be fair, a lot of what he describes seems to be accurate as far as it goes. If you sit still long enough, you will start to feel disembodied. If you concentrate on a point for long enough, you start to lose all sense of time and space. The steps of Dhyana and Samadhi, that Crowley holds up as key stages in his system, seem unobtainable until you see what they are, and when you see them, they can be entered into in a moment’s notice (caveat: and lost again just as quickly).

Now, I might possibly get some hackles up, but then you can't say much these days without angering somebody, and the alternative is to not speak at all.

(Opinion alert!)

Crowley was a consummate writer with an extremely vivid imagination, a sharp intellect, and a keen awareness of both facts. He could conjure up visions in his writing that enthrall the mind of the reader, as they did my younger self. Just so, the visions themselves seem to have enthralled Crowley, giving him the impression that he had obtained great heights of initiation. These days though I can’t help but regard the whole thing as one big makkyo. Crowley could be regarded as his own worst critic, and having no teacher except in the very early days he was of course free to interpret his visions and experiences just as he pleased. If he wanted to proclaim himself world teacher, then who was to gainsay him?

My sense is that, had Crowley had a good teacher, he would have regularly been taken down a peg or two, if he would have had the humility to put up with that, which is questionable. You tell a well trained meditation teacher of your visions of oneness with the universe, experiences of universal love, or intimations of world teachership, you are likely to be told, “go back to your cushion, sit down and shut up”.

My sense now, having had, or approximated most of the sorts of experiences Crowley described, realised they are mostly products of my ego and imagination, having realised that having these experiences hasn’t benefitted either me or the world at large, is that I am still a complete beginner. I came out of them much as I went in, having 'tried on new hats', but little more. It wasn't easy to come to terms with the fact but there is is, but I am not alone. Crowley, for all of his visions and claims to attainment, never seemed to overcome his basic programming, nor did he really want to I suspect. He wrote in his 40’s and 50’s and into old age, much as he had in his teens and 20’s when he was starting out. He did seem to mellow, was kinder to students, as his letters to various people suggest, and to me this is a much higher attainment than any of the visions and initiations.

So, I’m not saying Crowley knew nothing, he seems to have figured something out in his way, perhaps arrived at a sort of peace with things as he grew older. It is difficult to say, though we have his later writings so we can gauge his overall outlook, though he never really let go of the visions and attainments, and there is the occasional hint of irony later, I suspect he had an inkling that it was all a mirage, but he never came out and said that.

We often hear of the beginner student who, having their first vision thinks they have cracked it, only to be disabused by their teacher. I feel that, had Crowley had this, instead of the praise of Jones and the adoration of his groupies and followers, might have actually broken out and begun to progress in the practice of meditation. Instead, he had his ego stroked, told himself he was this and that grade, and halted all real progress.

Did he produce a useful system in the A\A\? Yes, it has it’s uses if you apply yourself with full commitment. There seems to be an element of truth to the idea that even if the teacher is bad, if the student is sincere then good results can follow. But the idea of using Crowley’s  experience as any sort of standard of progress makes little sense to me now. You can learn all sorts of magickal techniques, acquire a good dose of occult knowledge on a range of subjects, so the system has value, but in terms of attainments themselves, but it's really not much more than a set of mental gymnastics to go through the various exercises and rituals. It is I feel, the dedication of the student to long-term and sincere practice that makes the difference, not the system itself. And therein lies its real value, in that it gives the student something to hold on to, but in itself doesn’t have any particular power or significance. 

Crowley was in my mind at least, as much a beginner as me, and if the blind lead the blind….

Aside from all of that, the attitude to others inherent in the Book of the Law has begun to leave a bad taste in my mouth. You can read almost anywhere in Crowley's writings a sense of aristocracy. Amusing that the son of a brewer should have such leanings, the sort of aspirational snobbery that makes a person aspire to the upper classes. It is no secret that he was a tory, and this basic world view comes out in his writings in places too numerous to cite. But the book of the law has numerous lines on stamping down the weak, the dogs, the sub-humans who don't accept his law. He is clear that anybody who doesn't accept the Book of the Law is a troglodyte.

I'm not sure if there was a time when I felt like this. For me, being a Thelemite was a useful maneuver in that it taught self-reliance, focus, and a can do attitude, so it had its uses, but more and more the less palatable aspects seem more pronounced as my own life experience leads me to fell less like an 'individual' and more like just another person, less need to distinguish myself and more a sense of being part of the whole of my species, and the universe as a whole. I do think AC had intimations of this state, but they are I feel overshadowed with the lower parts of his nature and his inherent classism and snobbery come to the fore in my mind, and my sense is that he got a glimpse of that universality, but it never really did him much good. 

So, what of the A\A\? What of the lineage I joined and passed through?

Once you have used it to climb a wall, a ladder is of no further use to you. But you owe it to the next person to leave it there, so they too can climb and see what you see, should that be their will. Decrying ladders alone doesn't help when there is still the perception of their necessity. But once you realise that there is no wall to climb ladders are seen as superfluous, something extra.

I was heavily invested in the A\A\, it was central to my life for over a decade, which is probably why I still talk about it a lot. I understand that others will come and want to try it out, will insist, as I did, on going through the system grade by grade exactly as written. I commend their commitment as having value in itself, even as I feel that there are much easier ways. I have only the smallest online presence, I don’t attract students. I know those who do, and who still teach the system, so my policy is to not interfere. But this blog is my space, so I can speak my mind. Nobody is obliged to agree.

At different stages in life people need different things. 15 years ago I needed Thelema, needed something to grasp, a ladder to climb, and any discipline is a good discipline. Now it doesn’t suit my outlook or match my experience in the world (but that is another post). There was a time I needed the A\A\ system, tried with all my might to get accepted by a teacher in that system, and when accepted I approached it single-mindedly, only for it to gradually fall away years later as I started to see things differently. But I recognise that this is just my path, my outlook, not that of another. So, I suppose I write this not to discourage others, but to record my own experience. And the understanding, in hindsight, that joining Crowley’s Order, embarking on the Great Work, was the spiritual equivalent of taking a fairground ride. Fun while they last, but the teacups only go in a prescribed circle and produce temporary giddiness. We can't play games forever.

Mind is not a mirror

Over the last week I have been the recipient, as might be guessed from my previous post, of a barrage of conspiracy theories from a friend who decided it was ok to send me endless YouTube videos, blogs, talks and websites promoting them. I found that this tended to disturb my thoughts. I asked myself, do I pay attention to this? Try to debunk it, or look deeper into the source material, where available? Do I try to find out what this person’s problem really is, or just ignore and block? It got inside my head, so to speak, so like anything else, it can become fuel for practice.

In my opinion, those with any sort of personal practice such as A\A\, zazen, and so on, should be very careful about what I think of as 'curating the mind', that is, examining the contents, checking new contents as it comes in, deciding what to keep and what to discard. However, this can be time consuming and knowledge being what it is, essentially endless. I don't have time to check 2-hour long videos to decide whether they are worth knowing about, my life is busy and even without these things there is a whole bunch of information I need to process without adding more. But it gets under the skin nonetheless, more so than the topics themselves. The result is confusion, a stirring of the mind, things stick to it like particles of dust, and a common  understanding in Zen is that the practice is to 'polish the mind like a mirror', so it’s all material for practice surely?

This idea is put clearly in a poem by the monk Jinzu Jouza, when asked by the 5th patriarch to compose an enlightenment poem. The translation I have is as follows.

Our body is the bodhi tree,

and our mind a mirror bright,

Carefully we wipe them hour by hour,

And let no dust alight.

Ok, sounds good, but the 5^th patriarch didn’t feel it was the best that could be done. He said that if a person practiced like this they would make progress, but it was the poem of a person approaching the gate, but not yet though it.

For comparison, the poem composed by the future 6^th patriarch, clarifies this further.

There is no bodhi tree

Nor stand of a mirror bright,

Since all is void,

Where can the dust alight?

I first read this a few months ago, and finding myself in a position where ‘dust is settling in the mind’, I do what one is supposed to do, sit in zazen, and observe. I came to realise that what the 6^th patriarch is talking about as the mind, isn’t the mind as we usually think of it, since dust can’t alight on the mind. So, the thing that is clogged up with thoughts, ideas, troubles, is by definition something other than the mind. Maybe it is better to distinguish between thoughts and mind.

I don’t want to speculate on what is meant by mind, because all I can see and define is what it is not. In fact, it is the not, nothing, void. Not a nihilistic void of meaninglessness, but a full void, like a womb in that it carries everything, everything is born of it, yet itself cannot be thought of, much less disturbed by thoughts. In practice, if my zazen consists of an exercise of trying to curate the mind and throw out unwanted thoughts, I am not approaching this void at all, but merely rearranging the furniture in my mind.

Paradoxically, I want to be careful not to separate thoughts and mind, since observation tells me that they are not separate from mind, not something you can cut off and discard, but rather an aspect of mind; its flowers if you like, that while not the main point are still integral to the whole. This is the meaning of the ‘void flowers’ vision that I had many years ago now (did I mention this before?). Now I might say, thoughts are the flowering of the mind, but they are not its root and stem, only the part that arises in consciousness.

I don’t want to overthink all of this trying to come up with the perfect analogy, the most important thing is not the theory, but the practice, what do we do about it. In practice this means zazen, but it also means the awareness we cultivate in zazen, and carry on into other activities. For me this is my aikido, the tai chi form, but also daily life, making coffee, going for a walk and the rest. Thoughts arise, some quite disturbing, both from within and without. They are all potentially sticky, we can get caught up in them if we are not self-aware. But we don’t want to try and cut them off or some other act of violence, but simply notice what is happening. Notice during zazen when the mind wanders or gets sleepy. Notice in aikido when I have lost my centre. Notice when a friend draws me into fruitless discussion, or when something irritates the mind.

I’ve found that the noticing itself has a disarming effect. In Aikido, noticing you have lost your centre tends to re-establish it. In the same way noticing you are being led away by sticky thoughts tends to dissipate them and natural mind arises. By practicing like this, just noticing, and letting the correction occur naturally, is the only way I have found to get back consistently to that basic, unadorned awareness which is the basis from which we arise, not by polishing the mirror of the mind, but by noticing that the mirror on which dust alights isn't the mind that we seek to cultivate in the first place.

Dealing with conspiracy theories and misinformation

 I think it's always been the case that the occult, spiritual and other fringe elements of society have harboured some unorthodox ideas. As I was getting into the occult in the 1990's I came across a few of these, I read a few of David Ickes books and somebody gave me a tape recording of his Robots Rebellion talks which I listened to a few times and was reminded of a kid I knew in primary school who would tell fantastic stories which we would accept not because we thought they were true, but because it made things more exciting to act as if they were real. Later I discovered that some of his core ideas were lifted from other, more obscure sources (the stuff about reptilian 4th dimensioners), and he was tapping into a whole underground movement heavily influenced by American science fiction writers, one which I was just dipping into, and at that point had no way to access directly.

Being an enquiring type even then, I delved in to some of it, and arrived at a couple of conclusions. Firstly, so what? If true there was little to be done. Secondly, so much seemed fabricated from snatches of mythology, sci-fi and fantasy and conspiracies about the royal family, the US presidents, and a ream of other things that it was really a patchwork of interwoven ideas, constantly evolving, changing, and impossible to pin down. Icke even refuted some of his own early claims about the nature of the reptilian shapeshifters at one point, only to go back on himself at a later date, so was evidently uncertain even of his own account.

These days the whole movement has gone much more mainstream, thanks to the internet communication spreads much more rapidly and further than second hand cassette tapes and a few hard to find books. Many of my friends have been drawn into this world. As a scientist working in the field of climate change I have to deal with misinformation on a regular basis. I don't like to take my work home, but on the other hand do I ignore it when my friends repeat this stuff as if it were gospel truth? In addition, I have to ask, do they seriously believe this stuff, or are they like I was with my tale spinning friend, believing him because I want it to be true, it makes for a better narrative than the banal but more complex reality. 

I wonder at times whether the phenomena is similar to religious belief, in that it is so integral to a persons world view that they literally cannot see except through the lens of their article of faith. This may be why conspiracy theorists, just as religious fanatics, get angry and go on the attack when their articles of faith are questioned. As far as they are concerned, you are attacking them, their whole world, and they have no recourse but to fight back in self defense.

It's a tough thing to do, talking with such people, you can lose friends in the process, and in my case I am usually dismissed as 'haughty', and 'elitist' when I insist on being at least factually correct resisting the unwarranted leaps of logic and other devices. So, I have come up with a few rules of thumb for dealing with this sort of thing.

1) Conspiracy theories and misinformation are a Hydra headed monster. If you cut off one, another will immediately take it's place. It becomes a war of attrition.

2) Never fight a battle you are not properly armed for. Stick to what you know, and don't address things you don't have a fairly strong background in. If you have to quickly google things to make an argument you are stooping down to the level of the conspiracy theorists, and they will beat you with experience. In general, check your sources, who is saying what and on what grounds?

3) Choose your fights. Is it worth your time and energy discussing things? You can waste a lot of time and energy chasing shadows when you could be doing something useful, like sitting in zazen..... 

4) Emotion and feelings trump intellectual rigour, you can't win an argument even when soundly refuting it because facts slide off like Teflon if they don't fit the narrative. Your opponent will most likely become more intrenched in their conviction, so be prepared to lose friends if you engage.

5) If in doubt, remain silent. Every engagement takes an energetic toll on you, and empowers both the person you are arguing with and the fabrications they are peddling. Most of the time it's not worth giving them the oxygen of attention.

These are only my cursory thoughts. I may develop and amend them as time goes on. I will not be attempting to refute this or that idea (see point 1), and I have my own work to do in the world which doesn't involve trying to fight everybody, not am I in a position to do so (point 3). On the other hand, the whole thing is so prevalent in society and online that I would be remiss if I ignored the phenomena entirely, since I do feel that the whole thing plays in to a culture of falsity and illusion which is anathema to the practice of any of the 'spiritual' arts which require the utmost honesty and integrity. 

As a final point, it might be worth considering what the person telling you these things is actually saying. What does their involvement in this stuff signify? What are they not getting that they seek through involvement in what is a highly exclusive sub-culture. This I think is the best weapon, not the sword that cuts through argument, but the cup of compassion and reflection. Speak less, listen deeply to the silent voice below the threshold of verbal communication, and connect, not with the surface layer of confusion, but the deeper need of the human on the other side of the divide. 

Reality is based on Truth

 As I have previously said, my practice these days is more and more based on what is, rather than what I would like to be so.  For me this really came to the fore when I was a Practicus 3^○=8^□, and issues of personal integrity came up. Without going into details, I was offered the chance to either preserve appearances, by lying and obfuscating, or preserve my real integrity by being honest and shattering the self-image that I had cultivated up to that point.

Ever since then, integrity has been central to my worldview, if I am not being completely honest, then I am not in line with the universal way. Even if other people don't know it, I know it. 

Gudo Nishijima Roshi put this point across very well, to paraphrase:

“The universe is based on truth, and if we want to be aligned with the universe, we ourselves have to base our practice on truth”.

To me this means, that the universe is what it is, so to speak, and no amount of elaboration, fantasy or wishful thinking will change that. My practice therefore became one not of ‘becoming’ something, not an act of self-creation, but of alignment with what is. This is the reason I reject most magical practice, spells and such, as organised wishing, and reject visions and illuminations as self-reflected imagery. It is also why I regard those practitioners who indulge in self-delusion, as not really on the path.

Reality is uncompromising, often brutal, and frequently not as we’d wish it to be. It is also complex and confusing. People often want simple answers, somebody to blame, and a sort of structure that they can direct their concerns to. They want to ‘speak to the management’, and so they invoke God, or invent conspiracy theories that seem to explain things in ways that they can readily grasp. However, these things often don’t really help. They seem to do so, they are a sort of salve for the hurting self, but when analysed, I found that they really don’t stack up and are really a form of escapism.

I’m as uncertain about life as the next person. I work in a climate science related field, the future looks scary, and there are no easy answers that I can see. I would love for there to be simple answers: who to blame, exactly what steps to take, but I have had to learn to live with uncertainty in my work life as well as my practice, and accept that sometimes it’s ok not to know.

Not knowing is part of life. For me, not knowing is often the only honest position to take. Adhering to stories and narratives that simplify, or justify my failings and fears, or such forms of self-delusion both don’t help in any practical sense, and don’t help in terms of practice, whish is ultimately one of alignment with the truth of the universe as it is, right here, at this moment.

Religious, but not spiritual

 Something that is often heard among people in esoteric, new age, and other circles of that type, is the phrase: “I’m not religious, but I am spiritual”. The phrase has never sat right with me. it always seems to suggest a sort of anti-authoritarian stance coupled with the seeking of novel experience through spirituality, or a way of letting people know you are unshackled from tradition, while still being ‘deep’.

While these things in themselves are alright, I’ve gradually come to quite a contrary point of view. In my case, it’s probably true to say that “I’m not spiritual, but I am religious”.

I used to be the sort of person who sought novel spiritual experiences. In my younger days I took all manner of drugs, had a liking for psychedelics, and was convinced that a big enough dose of the right drug would lead to breakthrough experiences, whatever they are. In magickal practice I also experimented with all kinds of magick, evocations, astral travel, inner visionary experiences, as well as yoga and meditation. The ultimate experiences of course as an A.’.A.’. person was the Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel.

So often we are seeking for some experience, some validating event to justify our efforts, uphold our idea of how we would like the world to be, for validation and satisfaction. This is really a sort of spiritually expressed materialism. When we behave like this, we are really spiritual tourists. Some go to far off places and experience different cultures (I’ve done that too, and highly recommend it), some use this experience of being ‘travellers’ to form a persona. Back in the 90’s it was quite the thing to be able to call yourself a traveller. It has a savour of mystery, adventure, a robust and worldly person worthy of respect. Spiritual tourists, those seeking peak experiences, or just those seeking badges and grades, are no different at root.

Its true to say that I no longer feel that way. Having travelled quite a lot, I yearn to settle in one place. I realised that I don’t like travelling, what I like is to stay in one place for a few years, get to know people, learn the language, hang around after the novelty wears off. In terms of practice, I found that what makes the difference isn’t the peak experiences, the visions and revelations, but the long-term practice itself. Anyone can have a profound experience by taking a large does of DMT or LSD, which is a good way of ‘loosening the girders of the soul, of shaking us out of habitual thought patterns, but what tends to happen is that people, when they come down, resume life much as if nothing had happened, having no discipline or practice to help fortify and ground the experience. 

For me the same is true of magical practices. Astral travel got to be like watching a good film or reading a great novel. When the credits roll, I would go back to my life as if nothing had happened. Likewise, the days when I felt illuminated by something holy, graced by God, in touch with my HGA, or whatever peak experience, left me otherwise unaffected. It didn’t do me any good, so what was the point?

What did make a difference, however, was my long term practice, constant, over many years (over 25 years now that I think about it). For me that has been meditation and related practices. I started meditating in my teens, took up Tai chi at about 20, Aikido at about 30. Daily meditation has gone on all through that time, even through periods when I was a ‘spiritual tourist’ looking for peak experiences and transcendental events. I first encountered Zen at about 16, but for many years it was too simple, too austere, it offered nothing but daily life lived with attention, and within a traditional religious framework, it wasn't novel enough for my thrill seeking attitude. What I appreciate now though is the way that practice is digested into life. The best digestion is silent, just as the best sleep is dreamless. So it is with practice, the best practice is routine, silent, not special. 

But over the last few years and after concluding that most peak experiences were a waste of time, I really started to appreciate Zen for what it is, as an uncompromising attitude of turning towards reality and meeting it as is, without embellishment or elaboration. These days I am much more content to call myself religious, defining it as the constant devotion to a way of life that respects tradition and proceeds in an attentive and unassuming way, not seeking anything other than what is, nor running away seeking novel experiences, avoiding the lure of spiritual escapism. 

I don't have any supernatural beliefs, my religion is not 'faith based', nor do I feel that I am a spiritual person. I have no aspirations to an afterlife, or magical power, and it strikes me that 'enlightenment' is just simply seeing things as they are, and certainly not some special state.

Of course, it took me a long time to arrive here, and don’t expect everybody to agree with my approach, particularly the average seeker. But for me, this is more wholesome, more honest, and open to life as it is, rather than as I would like it to be. To me this is the only real way of encountering reality. And in terms of spiritual progress? There is no ‘progress’, as such, but it does take a certain kind of person to continue to live and practice in that constant way. It takes grit, determination, stoicism really, to get up and practice, to sit on the cushion, day in day out for years without expecting anything, simply allowing delusion to fall away of its own accord. 

For me the reward is simply to be the sort of person who lives like that.