Daily Reflection 4.28.21
Apr. 28th, 2021 07:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
readoldthingsSun Tzu continues to give us advice on military maneuvering:
We discussed the meanings of "mountains" yesterday. To recap-- in military affairs, mountains are problems because they are void of sustenance for men and animals. If you get stuck on a mountain, your army will starve. On the other hand, as Sun Tzu says here, mountains have a certain value-- we should camp in high places, for defense.
So, as discussed yesterday, we need to not linger in places-- jobs, cities, lives and lifestyles-- in which there is no nourishment for our souls.
On the other hand, we can make use of undesirable places, the equivalent of mountains, in order to protect ourselves.
How do we do this?
Two different ideas come to mind.
First, it's a very useful thing to avoid whatever is popular. Especially in moments like these, in which the collective mind of the fashionable classes is insane and the spirit of the times is a ravening, two-headed demon, every place that's fashionable is likely to be psychically toxic. I live in a more or less working class or lower middle class neighborhood in a small, rural town. There are no political signs in peoples lawns, nobody wears a mask on the trail in the woods, and kids play together, outside, on bicycles and skateboards, and the neighbors are relaxed and friendly. I spent a bit of time in a fashionable, higher end suburb of Washington, D.C. yesterday, and the contrast could not be more clear. There everyone is in a mask, no one talks to you, and they all have signs in their lawns going on about how tolerant they are. From my perspective, those neighborhoods are high, cold mountains, the sort of places where travelers get snowed in and resort to cannibalism. From their perspective, though, my neighborhood is the mountain-- the sort of place they wouldn't be caught dead in. And so I camp my army here.
But then there is also the issue of magical defense-- rendering your home and other places you spend your time defensible, like a mountain. This can dovetail nicely with the first approach-- a place that looks unfashionable on the outside, and so unappealing to the fashionable, but which is an astral paradise on the inside is a very nice place indeed!
I've gone on a bit longer than intended, so we'll see if we can come up with a meaning for "rivers" tomorrow.
I plan on going quickly over the final chapters of the book, because I want to move on to something else. What's next? Either a detailed read-through of the Gospel of Matthew, analyzed as though it were a magical text in the tradition of Eliphas Levi, or else Iamblichus's canon of Platonic dialogs read in order. Or both. Stay tuned!
Camp in high places, do not climb heights to fight.
So much for mountain warfare.
After crossing a river, you should get faraway from it.
When an invading force crosses a river in its onward march, do not advance to meet it in mid-stream. It will be best to let half the army get across, and then deliver your attack.
So much for mountain warfare.
After crossing a river, you should get faraway from it.
When an invading force crosses a river in its onward march, do not advance to meet it in mid-stream. It will be best to let half the army get across, and then deliver your attack.
We discussed the meanings of "mountains" yesterday. To recap-- in military affairs, mountains are problems because they are void of sustenance for men and animals. If you get stuck on a mountain, your army will starve. On the other hand, as Sun Tzu says here, mountains have a certain value-- we should camp in high places, for defense.
So, as discussed yesterday, we need to not linger in places-- jobs, cities, lives and lifestyles-- in which there is no nourishment for our souls.
On the other hand, we can make use of undesirable places, the equivalent of mountains, in order to protect ourselves.
How do we do this?
Two different ideas come to mind.
First, it's a very useful thing to avoid whatever is popular. Especially in moments like these, in which the collective mind of the fashionable classes is insane and the spirit of the times is a ravening, two-headed demon, every place that's fashionable is likely to be psychically toxic. I live in a more or less working class or lower middle class neighborhood in a small, rural town. There are no political signs in peoples lawns, nobody wears a mask on the trail in the woods, and kids play together, outside, on bicycles and skateboards, and the neighbors are relaxed and friendly. I spent a bit of time in a fashionable, higher end suburb of Washington, D.C. yesterday, and the contrast could not be more clear. There everyone is in a mask, no one talks to you, and they all have signs in their lawns going on about how tolerant they are. From my perspective, those neighborhoods are high, cold mountains, the sort of places where travelers get snowed in and resort to cannibalism. From their perspective, though, my neighborhood is the mountain-- the sort of place they wouldn't be caught dead in. And so I camp my army here.
But then there is also the issue of magical defense-- rendering your home and other places you spend your time defensible, like a mountain. This can dovetail nicely with the first approach-- a place that looks unfashionable on the outside, and so unappealing to the fashionable, but which is an astral paradise on the inside is a very nice place indeed!
I've gone on a bit longer than intended, so we'll see if we can come up with a meaning for "rivers" tomorrow.
I plan on going quickly over the final chapters of the book, because I want to move on to something else. What's next? Either a detailed read-through of the Gospel of Matthew, analyzed as though it were a magical text in the tradition of Eliphas Levi, or else Iamblichus's canon of Platonic dialogs read in order. Or both. Stay tuned!
