Daily Reflection 2.26.21
Feb. 26th, 2021 08:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
readoldthingsSun Tzu tells us:
Sun Tzu began this chapter by discussing the need to divide a large force into smaller, more manageable units. I suggested that this can be applied to any task, by breaking it down into smaller, more manageable components. I want to say something more about this in a moment.
First, though, I want to say something about the overall perspective I'm working with. Eliphas Levi writes that:
I've talked about applying Sun Tzu's work to: individual goals; the formation of habits; the overcoming of defects and bad habits; and spiritual warfare. All of these are components of the Great Work, which can also be called the total conquest of our souls.
The Enemy is everything which resists us in this task, and can be divided into three components:
The Enemy Within, consisting of all of our passions, addictions, internalized bad habits, lack of will, destructive thought-chains, and harmful ideas;
The Enemy Without, consisting of all those external forces which act against us achieving the Great Work, including our physical surroundings and other human beings; and
The Great Enemy, which is the larger spiritual force which acts to keep us enchained.
Of course, there are not hard and fast lines between these. The Great Enemy may propagate a destructive idea in society, such as the cult of victimhood. One's friends and family may take up this idea and repeat it constantly. Hearing it all the time, we may then internalize it and view our own lives through its lens.
In The Art of War, Sun Tzu is discussing the way that, by achieving perfect discipline among the components of our army, and by selecting the right men for the right task, we may apply the army with maximum force against the Enemy.
I'd like to suggest that in the Great Work, we are also aided by dividing our own forces into components, and by selecting the right men for the job. As we've discussed, one of the ways that we can do this is by breaking a larger goal down into smaller, more manageable goals, and then turning these goals into daily habits.
Another way that I put this idea into action is to apply a multiplicity of approaches to my own spiritual life. This contradicts the idea that most spiritual teachers push, which is to pick one path and stick with it. That idea isn't wrong-- in fact, it's probably right. But I've never been able to do it. Religiously, I'm a kind of Neoplatonic Catholic Pagan Taoist, and lately I've been learning a great deal by studying Tibetan Buddhism. I've tried to just be one thing-- I really have. Everyone says you ought to. But I find that, by limiting myself to a single path, I lose too many things which I've come to need. I connect to the powers of the natural world via Druidry, and I also practice a form of Celtic-Druidic ceremonial magic. On the other hand, I regularly feel the need to turn to the spiritual world for guidance in virtue, moral conduct, and human affairs generally, and I really haven't had much luck asking the Celtic gods for help. In the Druid revival, Esus, chief of tree spirits, is an important deity, and I can attest that he is very real and very powerful. But he doesn't really have much to say about human affairs-- appropriately enough; it's not his department. When I need help with parenting, or being a good spouse, I go to Saint Joseph, and get the help I need.
And there's something else involved, something I can't quite explain because it's ineffable. When I invoke the Celtic gods, I get the impression of a bright golden light and excited singing. When I invoke Catholic saints or the Trinity, the impression I get is one of a deeper light, quieter and calmer. I seem to need both the calm that comes with the invocation of Christ, His Mother and His saints in a traditional context, and I need the delight that comes from the invocation of the Druid gods. Taoism feels like a cool, blue-grey wind blowing through; it's peaceful and it's refreshing, and I need that too sometimes. On its own though, it's just too cold for me.
Again, the usual advice is: Pick one path and stick with it. I have no doubt this works for many people, probably most people. But if you're like me, consider ignoring the usual advice, and recruiting men for your army from any of the spiritual world's great traditions that speak to you.
The clever combatant looks to the effect of combined energy, and does not require too much from individuals. Hence his ability to pick out the right men and to utilize combined energy.
When he utilizes combined energy, his fighting men become as it were like unto rolling logs or stones. For it is the nature of a log or stone to remain motionless on level ground, and to move when on a slope; if four-cornered, to come to a standstill, but if round-shaped, to go rolling down.
When he utilizes combined energy, his fighting men become as it were like unto rolling logs or stones. For it is the nature of a log or stone to remain motionless on level ground, and to move when on a slope; if four-cornered, to come to a standstill, but if round-shaped, to go rolling down.
Sun Tzu began this chapter by discussing the need to divide a large force into smaller, more manageable units. I suggested that this can be applied to any task, by breaking it down into smaller, more manageable components. I want to say something more about this in a moment.
First, though, I want to say something about the overall perspective I'm working with. Eliphas Levi writes that:
The Great Work is, before all things, the creation of man by himself, that is to say, the full and entire conquest of his faculties and his future; it is especially the perfect emancipation of his will.
I've talked about applying Sun Tzu's work to: individual goals; the formation of habits; the overcoming of defects and bad habits; and spiritual warfare. All of these are components of the Great Work, which can also be called the total conquest of our souls.
The Enemy is everything which resists us in this task, and can be divided into three components:
The Enemy Within, consisting of all of our passions, addictions, internalized bad habits, lack of will, destructive thought-chains, and harmful ideas;
The Enemy Without, consisting of all those external forces which act against us achieving the Great Work, including our physical surroundings and other human beings; and
The Great Enemy, which is the larger spiritual force which acts to keep us enchained.
Of course, there are not hard and fast lines between these. The Great Enemy may propagate a destructive idea in society, such as the cult of victimhood. One's friends and family may take up this idea and repeat it constantly. Hearing it all the time, we may then internalize it and view our own lives through its lens.
In The Art of War, Sun Tzu is discussing the way that, by achieving perfect discipline among the components of our army, and by selecting the right men for the right task, we may apply the army with maximum force against the Enemy.
I'd like to suggest that in the Great Work, we are also aided by dividing our own forces into components, and by selecting the right men for the job. As we've discussed, one of the ways that we can do this is by breaking a larger goal down into smaller, more manageable goals, and then turning these goals into daily habits.
Another way that I put this idea into action is to apply a multiplicity of approaches to my own spiritual life. This contradicts the idea that most spiritual teachers push, which is to pick one path and stick with it. That idea isn't wrong-- in fact, it's probably right. But I've never been able to do it. Religiously, I'm a kind of Neoplatonic Catholic Pagan Taoist, and lately I've been learning a great deal by studying Tibetan Buddhism. I've tried to just be one thing-- I really have. Everyone says you ought to. But I find that, by limiting myself to a single path, I lose too many things which I've come to need. I connect to the powers of the natural world via Druidry, and I also practice a form of Celtic-Druidic ceremonial magic. On the other hand, I regularly feel the need to turn to the spiritual world for guidance in virtue, moral conduct, and human affairs generally, and I really haven't had much luck asking the Celtic gods for help. In the Druid revival, Esus, chief of tree spirits, is an important deity, and I can attest that he is very real and very powerful. But he doesn't really have much to say about human affairs-- appropriately enough; it's not his department. When I need help with parenting, or being a good spouse, I go to Saint Joseph, and get the help I need.
And there's something else involved, something I can't quite explain because it's ineffable. When I invoke the Celtic gods, I get the impression of a bright golden light and excited singing. When I invoke Catholic saints or the Trinity, the impression I get is one of a deeper light, quieter and calmer. I seem to need both the calm that comes with the invocation of Christ, His Mother and His saints in a traditional context, and I need the delight that comes from the invocation of the Druid gods. Taoism feels like a cool, blue-grey wind blowing through; it's peaceful and it's refreshing, and I need that too sometimes. On its own though, it's just too cold for me.
Again, the usual advice is: Pick one path and stick with it. I have no doubt this works for many people, probably most people. But if you're like me, consider ignoring the usual advice, and recruiting men for your army from any of the spiritual world's great traditions that speak to you.
mosaic work & synthesis
Date: 2021-02-28 12:33 am (UTC)Re: mosaic work & synthesis
Date: 2021-02-28 01:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-02-28 07:27 pm (UTC)Be well!
no subject
Date: 2021-03-01 05:03 pm (UTC)(1) First of all, it seemed to me there was a lot left un-plumbed from this particular Sun Tzu excerpt. I think Mr. Sun is not merely repeating what he had said before about breaking his forces into smaller units. Here he says, I think, that a clever general stays on the lookout for the most effective ways to re-combine one's own elements of force into overwhelming success. I think another way read this is "solve et coagula"! The "combined energy" is chosen to match the particular tactical goal-- sometimes you want a team that will remain unmoved in the face of force, like the four cornered stone; but sometimes you want the team that will go flying where you send them with a mere nudge, like the log. He also cautions not to rely too much on individuals. Individuals can be unreliable; when combined judiciously with others in a team, there is more strength.
How can this be applied to our own battle to master our own lives? I think, in part, it might be that once you have broken your battles down into suitably small steps, they must be recombined in a way that they rely on each other, rather than being satellites like a lone soldier separated from his team. So, taking the example of internet use, if you set yourself a task with too much freedom involved, you might find your soldiers that day taken by the enemy in the form of endless browsing of news feeds. But if someone is waiting for you to send them that e-mail, and you already have another place to be after that, then you send the e-mail and don't end up browsing. The trick, I guess, is to make your plans such that each of your "forces" is relying on the other and they all make each other stronger. This will take more thinking to pull out concrete examples, but anyway that is what I think Sun Tzu was saying here.
(2) As for the Eliphas Levi quote, it resonated strongly for me with a bit of Shinto mythology I'd just been looking at, from the Nihongi, I. 60-63. Onamuchi (here written as Oho-na-mochi no Mikoto) and his magical sidekick Sukuna-bikona (usually represented as some kind of fairy kamisama) tame the unruly land, and there are interesting consequences.
Now Oho-na-mochi no Mikoto and Sukuna-bikona no Mikoto, with united strength and one heart, constructed this sub-celestial world.
(“this sub-celestial world” means this sub-celestial world, as in, where we are.)
Then, for the sake of the visible race of man as well as for beasts, they determined the method of healing diseases. They also, in order to do away with the calamities of birds, beasts, and creeping things, established means for their prevention and control. The people enjoy the protection of these universally until the present day.
Before this Oho-na-mochi no Mikoto spake to Sukuna-bikona no Mikoto, and said:—'May we not say that the country which we have made is well made?' Sukuna-bikona no Mikoto answered and said:—'In some parts it is complete and in others it is incomplete.' This conversation had doubtless a mysterious purport.
Thereafter Sukuna-bikona no Mikoto … went to the island of Aha, where he climbed up a millet-stalk, and was thereupon jerked off, and went to the Everlasting Land.
After this, wherever there was in the land a part which was imperfect, Oho-na-mochi no Kami visited it by himself, and succeeded in repairing it. Coming at last to the province of Izumo, he spake, and said:—'This Central Land of Reed-plains had been always waste and wild. The very rocks, trees and herbs were all given to violence. But I have now reduced them to submission, and there is none that is not compliant.' Therefore he said finally:—'It is I, and I alone, who now govern this Land. Is there perchance any one who could join with me in governing the world?'
Upon this a Divine radiance illuminated the sea, and of a sudden there was something which floated towards him and said:—'Were I not here, how couldst thou subdue this Land? It is because I am here that thou hast been enabled to accomplish this mighty undertaking.' Then Oho-na-mochi no Kami inquired, saying:—'Then who art thou?' It replied and said:—'I am thy guardian spirit, the wondrous spirit.' Then said Oho-na-mochi no Kami:—'True, I know therefore that thou art my guardian spirit, the wondrous spirit. Where dost thou now wish to dwell?' The spirit answered and said:—'I wish to dwell on Mount Mimoro, in the province of Yamato.' Accordingly he built a shrine in that place and made the spirit to go and dwell there. This is the God of Oho-miwa.
Omiwa (Oho-miwa) is the mountain Miwa-san in Nara, with Omiwa Shrine built toward the bottom, and the whole mountain above it being the inside of the shrine. There’s a lovely hike where pilgrims can go up and down the mountain which I’ve been on a couple of times, but most of the mountain is off-limits. Anyway, the interesting thing about this conversation between Onamuchi and Omononushi is that Onamuchi and Omononushi are considered to be the same kamisama! This episode is generally taken to be a meeting between two levels of the same kami’s soul. So, by cleaning and fixing up one’s metaphorical country and keeping our own “people” within us healthy and happy and running smoothly, by bringing our own violent and unruly animals into compliance with the ways of the heavenly realms, we may likewise find ourselves able to commune with a higher level of ourself than we ever knew possible. (Incidentally, though the translator, W.G. Aston, applied the words "guardian spirit", I'm pretty sure but not positive that in JMG-speak it should be either "higher self" or "mental body". The Shinto doctrine of "Ichirei Shikon" -- "one spirit, four souls" -- maps quite precisely to physical body, etheric body, astral body, and mental body.)
(3) About your suggestion that, if we are like you, we might consider following various paths at the same time. I mean the following as a serious question, and not as a "gotcha" meant to try to take you down a peg. And this is of importance to me, as I too follow a variety of spiritual paths. My question is, how does this approach line up with Sun Tzu's exhortations to clearly understand your goal, and to approach it with unity of will? If Sun Tzu read this blog entry, what do you think he would counsel you?
no subject
Date: 2021-03-01 05:35 pm (UTC)3) "how does this approach line up with Sun Tzu's exhortations to clearly understand your goal, and to approach it with unity of will?"
In my case, it lines up exactly with it, because my goal is to follow multiple paths, to discover the underlying unities, and eventually to create a working synthesis.
There's another reason, too, which I may be able to illustrate by way of example.
I was raised in a small town in rural Pennsylvania, with summers in Maryland. Since I turned 18, I've lived in Virginia, Delaware, New Jersey, Colorado, Arizona, Oregon, and California. I've spent significant time in West Virginia and New Mexico as well. The result is that I know the cultures of each of these states in a direct, experiential way. I understand in a real way what *an American state* is. In a very real sense, you can't know anything unless you know it as a category. Having seen multiple American states up close, I understand what unites them, and also the differences between them, in a way that you can't if you've only known one.
On the other hand, I have friends who never left our hometown. They also have a knowledge that I don't have and can't have. What is it like to stay in the place that your ancestors going back 1-2 centuries are buried, with the people that you grew up with, watching the whole thing change and yet stay the same over the course of decades? I don't know, because I didn't do that. One type of knowledge grants depth, the other breadth. Both are important, and yet they can't both be achieved by the same person in the same lifetime. In this incarnation, at least, it seems that my aim is a breadth of knowledge.
2) Thank you for this. It also seems to me that there is a great deal of unity between Japanese and Western esotericism.
1) Good! Part of the purpose of writing these meditations, and this blog as a whole, is to encourage others to approach these texts on their own. What you see won't be the same as what I see.
You're only 1 entry behind by the way. I often don't post on weekends, and I haven't yet decided what my policy is on that.
no subject
Date: 2021-03-01 05:48 pm (UTC)Ha! Amusingly, I noticed that, edited my entry, and then soon after discovered you'd already replied. You work fast!
Thanks for these responses. Yes, what you say to #3 seems reasonable.
I move that you *not* write on weekends (unless you feel like it). Even just from the perspective of a reader, I find it a bit harrying to keep up with you when you're actually managing to maintain a daily pace! It takes a little bit of time to digest the text, and then on top of that there is still digesting your reaction to it.