Posts by wiredbear2

Jeremy Palmer said:It feels like everything goes dark whenever we tear away from our old ways of thinking—when we let go of outdated belief systems, old ideals, or goals we used to chase. It’s that moment when we lose our footing in what we thought was certain truth, shedding the very things we once held onto so tightly. In those moments, you step into a void, and it’s dark because the light we used to navigate by has simply flickered out.

But honestly, that’s just the twilight zone. The true Dark Night of the Soul hits when there is absolutely nothing left—no friends, no God, no faith, no love, no knowledge. There isn't even a path to follow, a single answer to find, or a question to ask; there is only the darkness and a heavy stillness. It’s what happens when someone tries so hard to find themselves that they end up losing themselves entirely... It’s a pretty intense state of mind, feeling like you're stuck in limbo, neither here nor there.

Still, the Dark Night of the Soul, much like any other dark period, always comes right before the dawn.

Hmm, let me think... That sounds... well, unfamiliar to me. No matter how difficult things have been, or how hard they are right now, I always seem to have something to latch onto...
Does this mean that such a state is what awaits me if I remain true to myself and continue with my "growth"?
Right now, that feels almost impossible... perhaps I won't even allow it to happen...

Jeremy, it sounds to me like you've actually walked through this yourself...

I was just thinking about how someone who finds themselves in that place, who is forced to endure it, goes through it all internally, completely invisible to everyone else and to the world at large. They are utterly alone in it. They go to their job, they handle the mundane tasks of daily life, and they live a certain kind of superficial existence on the surface, while simultaneously an entire universe is dying inside them just so a new one can be born...

Jeremy Palmer said:It feels like everything goes dark whenever we tear away from our old ways of thinking—when we let go of outdated belief systems, old ideals, or goals we used to chase. It’s that moment when we lose our footing in what we thought was certain truth, shedding the very things we once held onto so tightly. In those moments, you step into a void, and it’s dark because the light we used to navigate by has simply flickered out.

But honestly, that’s just the twilight zone. The true Dark Night of the Soul hits when there is absolutely nothing left—no friends, no God, no faith, no love, no knowledge. There isn't even a path to follow, a single answer to find, or a question to ask; there is only the darkness and a heavy stillness. It’s what happens when someone tries so hard to find themselves that they end up losing themselves entirely... It’s a pretty intense state of mind, feeling like you're stuck in limbo, neither here nor there.

Still, the Dark Night of the Soul, much like any other dark period, always comes right before the dawn.

Beautifully put... 🙂

mistybison, thank you so much for such an exhaustive and thoughtful story 😉

The way things are laid out in the book leads me to believe there isn't actually a meaningful distinction between being "alive" and being "dead," because if everything is just an illusion—both this current life and that transitional state we experience when we pass away... then they are essentially one and the same.

I have to admit, I’m also struggling to fully wrap my head around this concept of the "void" that one supposedly enters after all incarnations are complete. Perhaps "void" isn't even the right way to describe it.
If that's the case, why wouldn't we instead transition into a concrete form of existence?

If our current reality is nothing more than an illusion, then there has to be some underlying truth somewhere. Where does that actual reality reside? To me, these all feel like constructs of the Matrix—unverifiable ideas that could leave us spinning in endless circles forever...

It feels far more logical to assume that if reincarnation is a real thing, then we are caught in an infinite cycle of rebirth, perhaps separated by longer and longer intervals of "nothingness" in between.

We are looking at Tibetan eschatology here, which provides a much more intricate map of the dying process and the subsequent transition. In American Christianity, the framework is much more straightforward; you wait for Judgment Day, the second coming of Christ, and the final judgment. I suspect that, according to their own texts, the Tibetan tradition has its own unique equivalent for that moment...

Regardless, these are certainly fascinating topics to dive into...

briskpanther5 said:It’s pretty clear that when you're looking at transformation—or alchemy, if you prefer—there are specific gateways you have to pass through; without crossing those thresholds, you simply don't move forward. 🙂 Now, figuring out how to actually do that, which keys to use, the specific path, or the various entities and initiators involved... well, that’s a whole different conversation, and honestly, it's the tricky part. 😉 You can start to see how there are seven archons that correspond to the celestial bodies—the Moon, Mercury, Venus, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. And if we look at the mythological side of things, there's always this recurring theme regarding the journey through the underworld.

Alright, now we are stepping firmly into the realm of actual magical practice. If someone is truly walking that path, then they will absolutely require those keys, the distinct paths, and the guidance of certain entities...

I find myself wondering about this connection to the celestial bodies. What kind of role do they actually play in the process of transformation?
And please, I’d love to hear this explained from an esoteric perspective...

Andrew Sanchez572 said:I am quite uncertain as to how much detail I should provide. My own personal experiences feel far too intimate and profound for me to simply write them down here.

The Scorpion represents, following Libra, that pivotal transition from the material realm into the spiritual one. It is a process characterized by the burning away and subsequent decay of the ego—all those titles and labels we used to decorate ourselves—and an encounter with death itself, or rather, a shift in consciousness, albeit through a harsh and unlovely medium. We are talking about spiritual insights that arrive unbidden or catch us entirely off guard. This often manifests as a prolonged period of depression, lethargy, and a sense of utter emptiness, which can drag on for quite some time. It serves as the first true trial on the spiritual path; the weakest among us often falter here, only to resume their journey in subsequent lifetimes.

Many who experience this find themselves losing their grip on reality. This phase typically follows that initial burst of euphoria one feels when they first begin walking the path of enlightenment.

Regarding Indian astrology, this period is linked to Saturn transiting over one's natal Moon—the Sadhe Sat—a seven-year stretch of misfortune where even a king might find himself reduced to a beggar.

Furthermore, I wouldn't necessarily link it to the Abyss, but rather to Paroket. Though, of course, that is merely my own perspective...😁
In that sense, it is also intrinsically tied to the Tower and the Art.

I didn't think you were talking about yourself, though—I was actually asking if you could explain what Nigredo even is? I’m unfamiliar with the term... where does it originate from?

Andrew Sanchez572 said:I am quite uncertain as to how much detail I should provide. My own personal experiences feel far too intimate and profound for me to simply write them down here.

The Scorpion represents, following Libra, that pivotal transition from the material realm into the spiritual one. It is a process characterized by the burning away and subsequent decay of the ego—all those titles and labels we used to decorate ourselves—and an encounter with death itself, or rather, a shift in consciousness, albeit through a harsh and unlovely medium. We are talking about spiritual insights that arrive unbidden or catch us entirely off guard. This often manifests as a prolonged period of depression, lethargy, and a sense of utter emptiness, which can drag on for quite some time. It serves as the first true trial on the spiritual path; the weakest among us often falter here, only to resume their journey in subsequent lifetimes.

Many who experience this find themselves losing their grip on reality. This phase typically follows that initial burst of euphoria one feels when they first begin walking the path of enlightenment.

Regarding Indian astrology, this period is linked to Saturn transiting over one's natal Moon—the Sadhe Sat—a seven-year stretch of misfortune where even a king might find himself reduced to a beggar.

Furthermore, I wouldn't necessarily link it to the Abyss, but rather to Paroket. Though, of course, that is merely my own perspective...😁
In that sense, it is also intrinsically tied to the Tower and the Art.

That resonates with me...

But what is the actual connection between the Scorpion and Libra Venus in this context?

Andrew Sanchez572 said:I am quite uncertain as to how much detail I should provide. My own personal experiences feel far too intimate and profound for me to simply write them down here.

The Scorpion represents, following Libra, that pivotal transition from the material realm into the spiritual one. It is a process characterized by the burning away and subsequent decay of the ego—all those titles and labels we used to decorate ourselves—and an encounter with death itself, or rather, a shift in consciousness, albeit through a harsh and unlovely medium. We are talking about spiritual insights that arrive unbidden or catch us entirely off guard. This often manifests as a prolonged period of depression, lethargy, and a sense of utter emptiness, which can drag on for quite some time. It serves as the first true trial on the spiritual path; the weakest among us often falter here, only to resume their journey in subsequent lifetimes.

Many who experience this find themselves losing their grip on reality. This phase typically follows that initial burst of euphoria one feels when they first begin walking the path of enlightenment.

Regarding Indian astrology, this period is linked to Saturn transiting over one's natal Moon—the Sadhe Sat—a seven-year stretch of misfortune where even a king might find himself reduced to a beggar.

Furthermore, I wouldn't necessarily link it to the Abyss, but rather to Paroket. Though, of course, that is merely my own perspective...😁
In that sense, it is also intrinsically tied to the Tower and the Art.

No shit, 😬 those are some pretty heavy claims to make regarding how 'most people snap'...
Why don't they just—you know—give up?
And what kind of insights are you referring to specifically?

Could you perhaps elaborate a bit more on that—since you've already brought up Nigredo...

😉

It feels like we’ve finally come full circle, doesn't it... back to where everything started, yet somehow feeling entirely different because of everything we've navigated along the way... As expressed by:
That’s exactly right. But what I find truly fascinating is that point Dragan made regarding the old personality essentially dissolving away, while the new version hasn't quite stepped into its own yet... which explains that strange, unsettled state of being caught somewhere in the middle... No more... i Not quite yet...... which you described so perfectly as that lingering state of pure uncertainty—that restless, uncomfortable feeling of just waiting for something to happen while everything remains completely undefined...

I find myself grappling with that exact same question. It feels like we’re talking about a very specific kind of being "nowhere." How does one even begin to identify that state? I have this nagging suspicion that any one of us could be drifting through that void right now without even realizing it... It seems to me that you can only truly recognize it in hindsight—only once the fog lifts, once you experience that sudden realization of change, and once all the pieces of your life finally start to click back into place. Only then can you look back and say, "Oh, so that's where I was." I suppose what I'm trying to convey is that we can all find ourselves wandering through that dark night of the soul entirely unconsciously...

I suppose there’s no sense in dwelling on what’s already passed, though I find myself constantly looking back at how things used to be... It feels as if we are always searching for a way to return to that sense of clarity we once had, before everything became so complicated and fragmented... hiddenhound3 says:
Personally, I remember that period as a time when I wore black every single day, almost as if I were mourning someone incredibly close to me... yet at the same time, I didn't even know who or what I was grieving, feeling this profound sense of loss for someone I hadn't even truly known...

I can't help but wonder... do you think I could actually pull off wearing all black? Because, if I'm being honest, nearly everything in my wardrobe is that color anyway... 😬

I suppose there is a certain weight to the idea of returning, isn't there... that quiet, heavy pull toward somewhere you once called home, even if that "home" feels like a different world entirely now... It makes me wonder if we ever truly leave anything behind, or if we are just carrying the ghosts of our former selves into every new chapter we attempt to write... As expressed by:
Everything I have... And then she just leaned in and gave me a hug... With this almost irrational, desperate desire to ensure that nothing ever escapes my embrace, I was offering the very best of myself toward creating a sanctuary—a singular, sacred space where no human hand could ever reach...

🙂

As for what comes next in terms of prizes... Afterward.... 🙂

There are simply some things that transcend the reach of human hands... those moments where our own strength and skill just fall short of what’s required... But then again, one might encounter an entirely "new" personality—one that is truly just being born, perhaps even feeling more divine than human in its essence... A true metanoia... 🙂

Edward Flores4 said:See, meditation is really about perception. That kind of meditative awareness doesn't actually create stress. It isn't some wild Science Fiction concept like people tend to think it is. Let me lay it out for you:

- You know you have to head into the office because, let's face it, you need the paycheck to survive.
- Since you already have to be there for eight hours... it's just plain illogical to spend that time being miserable.
- Nobody likes working with high-strung people... and stressed-out employees are usually the first ones getting let go.
- You get paid to perform, but stress kills your productivity—and low productivity leads to being fired.
- If you truly can't stand the thought of working... then quit and stay home.
- But if you decide to show up and work—then do it. Do it without the unnecessary stress, knowing full well that this was your choice, and realizing there's zero point in stressing over something you opted into yourself.

I know you'll probably tell me you already get all this—and I believe you do—but the reality is that about 80% of people live in a constant state of frustration and irritation. They're annoyed by the boss, their coworkers, the job itself, the low pay, the fact that a colleague just bought a brand new Tesla, or how the secretary gets all those perks despite barely doing a lick of work...

It seems like people actually go out of their way to invent problems just to trigger stress, mostly because they've become addicted to it. Now, it's perfectly natural to feel stressed when something catches you off guard—something totally unexpected. But building up tension at a job where you know exactly what to expect? That takes a real, conscious effort.

A lot of people even use stress as a fuel source... they procrastinate until the final five minutes before a deadline. Then the "panic" sets in, they scramble to finish everything at the last second, and they usually walk away bragging about how they pulled it off under pressure. They rarely stop to think about the massive toll that constant adrenaline-chasing takes on them.

In other words... meditation is simply knowing exactly WHAT you are doing and WHY you are doing it. When you have that clarity, you lose all the wasted effort, the pointless complaining, the frustrations, the disappointments, and the stress.

Simple as that.... at least when we're talking about work.

Quentin:

The only thing I'm really aiming for is to stay peaceful, no matter what. And I feel so grateful whenever I actually manage to pull that off for a few days in a row.

Well, you'll be perfectly peaceful once you're dead... until then, try to at least have a little fun.😉

Do you really believe that inner peace and having fun are mutually exclusive?

Shaman, I'm talking about a "deep" kind of tranquility, the sort that isn't tethered to whatever is happening in the world around you.
And... I don't see life and death as two separate things. They are equally vital parts of the same whole 😉

I forgot to mention, of course, that this applies perfectly to workplace stress as well. 🙂
People have this tendency to multiply their own unnecessary misery just because they can.

steelridge58 said:Unfortunately, I can't speak from personal experience—every Crisis I've dealt with so far has been pretty surface-level.
The Dark Night of the Soul is likely just another version of that—a crisis occurring when you shift from one level of consciousness to the next.
In Christian terms, Saint John of the Cross describes it as Dark Night of the Soul.

You can find similar ideas in this book, where the author references Assagioli—he was basically the pioneer of transpersonal psychology and focused heavily on spiritual crises and stages of development.

And here’s a more modern, and honestly quite authentic, description of the process (it's all in German, unfortunately, and my translation skills are non-existent).

It’s essentially that moment where Jesus cries out during a crisis, "My God, why have you forsaken me?" The old personality has dissolved, but God hasn't taken His place in the soul yet—so the person is left "alone" in the "darkness." Probably a pretty brutal experience.
1. initiation—moving from the root to the sacrum
2. from the sacrum to the navel
3. from the navel to the solar plexus
4. from the solar plexus to the throat (which would correspond to the crucifixion)
Each of these transitions brings its own share of crises, pain, and joy.
At the heart level, we're still working on personal achievement, which tends to be pretty unstable.
Throat energies align with devotion to the divine—that feeling of being moved, awestruck, or stunned by the mystery of life; that's what we feel right in that center.

It’s that suspended state of being... stuck between "no longer" and "not yet."
When we say "no longer," we mean we’ve stopped taking things in; nothing "old" is allowed through the door anymore because it's simply enough...
But "not yet" is that hesitation, that deep-seated resistance toward whatever is coming next, almost like a fear of the inevitable shift...
And that "in-between state"? It’s this undefined, hovering limbo where you’re just waiting, feeling all that heavy discomfort that comes from being stuck in total uncertainty...

The term 'Dark Night of the Soul' is often used to describe those profound struggles that arise during one's spiritual journey. It originates from Christian rhetoric, and honestly, the name itself provides such a vivid, hauntingly beautiful description of the experience...
The concept was originally coined by Saint John of the Cross in his famous work of the same name.
For a believer or someone following a specific religious path, this manifests as a period where their entire faith is called into question—a time when doubt begins to seep into everything they once held sacred. It’s a deep suspicion of oneself, and even a suspicion of God. Those once-solid foundations start to crack and crumble. Suddenly, there is no more joy or enthusiasm found in performing religious rituals... Instead, there is this overwhelming fear of the void, a terror of losing one's footing and stability, leaving the soul feeling as though it is wandering aimlessly through total darkness. Almost every great saint mentioned in history has faced this exact kind of doubt, this very darkness. And yet, it is only by pushing through it that they ultimately reach true enlightenment.

Since every single one of us is on our own unique life journey, it doesn't really matter whether you identify as a religious person or if you simply follow a secular path of personal growth. These hardships are universal, and experiencing them is perfectly normal. Usually, after a period of wonderful spiritual insights or breakthroughs, a series of trials follows, making the path feel incredibly grueling. That initial spark of excitement just evaporates. You find yourself suddenly alone, unaccustomed to the isolation, and suffering begins to take hold. It is "alone" in the sense that any guidance feels insufficient, and every pillar of support seems to fall short...
Perhaps all of this sounds a bit too mystical, but at its core, it really boils down to a confrontation with one's own self—occurring during a certain phase of life or within a specific situation that demands everything of you, testing you on so many different levels...

I suppose the purpose of starting this thread is for us to share some of our own less-than-pleasant experiences, whether they are things we have already moved past or challenges we are currently navigating...

Edward Flores4 said:Everything I say—just like everything anyone else ever says—is nothing more than a personal representation and a glimpse through the lens of "the one speaking." No one is actually in a position to give you anything other than their own specific perspective on how things look. There isn't some ultimate authority out there that can tell you exactly how the color red is supposed to appear to you. For you, red is simply whatever it is that you perceive as red... and that’s that. Period.

I honestly don't see why you feel the need to constantly emphasize that this is "your vision"—it’s pretty much obvious from the jump, isn't it?

Quincy:

Don't you think that’s exactly where the beauty lies? The fact that you have the total freedom to interpret one thing—in this case, meditation—on your own terms. It’s like we can both be absolutely right at the same time, just because I'm looking at it through my lens while you're viewing it through yours.

Honestly? I don't see the beauty in it, but I don't see a problem either. I'm totally on board with the idea that if someone feels like they need to go see a psychiatrist, then they really should—it’s probably worth having someone give their headspace a professional "tune-up." In other words, if you feel like you need something, you need it. If you feel like you don't, then you don't. It’s as simple as that.

Quincy:

Look, I get it—to you, meditation is this spontaneous state of being, something that just flows constantly without any way to measure it... But the way you're presenting it to us here feels a bit limited—it's ultimately bounded by your own personal perspective and how you choose to quantify it.

If we actually knew one another—like, truly, deeply knew each other—then my words would have some kind of measurable weight when held up against who I really am. But since we’re essentially strangers, my words aren't really "me" to you; instead, they just act as raw material for your own mind to build a mental picture. And that picture—whatever version of me you’ve constructed in your head—is really just a projection of your own psyche. In a way, you’re actually measuring my words against your own internal compass, because you're the one who shaped that image based on what I said. I know, it sounds a bit deep and maybe even a little complicated... but I think if you sit with it for a second, you'll catch my drift.

I just want to be clear about my position here—I’m only ever sharing what I personally perceive, which is really the only thing I’m capable of talking about. The actual process of measuring or comparing those ideas? That happens entirely within you, the reader. In my view, what you choose to measure and the final result you get from that measurement are two completely different, disconnected things. It’s like that old saying: the map is not the territory. 🙂

Quincy:

Have you ever stopped to wonder who I actually am to be telling anyone else what meditation IS? At the end of the day, all I can really offer is my own perspective—just my own take on what the whole thing means to me.

Of course I am. Honestly, I’ve come to realize that the whole point of these forums is the actual exchange of ideas—where we seek out those different perspectives that can actually stretch our own horizons. If someone comes here just looking for an echo chamber where everyone agrees with them, they’re going to end up incredibly frustrated. That kind of "yes-man" environment—that constant seeking of like-minded validation—is exactly what you find in religious institutions, political parties, cults, or sects. That's not why we're here.

Look, I’m not claiming to be some kind of untouchable authority figure here—I’m just the author of my own thoughts. That’s really all there is to it. To me, writing "with authority" doesn't mean I'm claiming to have the absolute truth, or that I can't be dead wrong sometimes. It just means I actually stand behind everything I put on the page. When I say that, I mean I’ve done the work to ensure that every single sentence, every specific word, and every concept I bring up can be broken down and explained through dozens of different metaphors, analogies, perspectives, or real-world examples. If we get into a debate, I should be able to define exactly what I mean by any term I use. I won't hide behind vague excuses like "it's ineffable," "it's a state of no-mind," or some other spiritual way of saying "I've surrendered my reason to a higher power." I believe in being clear, not hiding behind mystery.

So, I’m not really trying to lecture you all here—not by a long shot. What I’m actually looking for is some solid, high-quality counterarguments. See, there's this funny little paradox where every time we expand our "scope of understanding," we simultaneously push out the boundaries of what we don't understand even further. It's like chasing a horizon line—the more you move toward it, the more space opens up ahead of you. Since the "unknown" is essentially defined by its own mystery, I find myself relying on others to act as "agents" who can help facilitate an encounter with that unknown. In my view, that's really the only mechanism we have for pushing the needle of understanding any further.

Believe it or not, I’m really just here to run into something completely unexpected—to stumble upon ideas I haven't even considered yet. In the meantime, I figure I'll spend my time stress-testing everything I think I know by engaging with people who don't see eye to eye with me. Don't get me wrong, chatting with people who agree with everything I say is easy, but it doesn't actually move the needle or lead to anything constructive. It's just an echo chamber. I think that pretty much sums me up.

Quincy:

I mean, I’m just being honest when I say this—it sounds absolutely beautiful, right? The idea of living in a constant state of meditation, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. But let's be real for a second—isn't it a bit of an illusion to expect that from "regular" people like us?

Nobody is actually "ordinary"... everyone is inherently unique. The thing is, you only tend to notice the unusual because it stands out against the backdrop of what we consider normal. It’s like how you only really register a massive mountain or a jagged peak because it breaks up the flat, endless stretch of a plain between two hills. But hey, let's look closer at that...

If I actually walked around thinking I was some special snowflake or fundamentally different from "regular folks," I wouldn't be bothering to share my perspective with anyone at all. Honestly, I see myself as just as much an "average Joe" as anybody else—which, if you think about it, makes us all pretty much the same kind of unconventional. No one is born with a golden ticket or marked as "chosen." Everything I’ve managed to figure out or achieve is stuff that anyone else could do if they put in the work. I don't have some secret, unfair advantage that would somehow justify treating "you regular people" differently or suggest that there's some level of insight that's just off-limits to everyone else.

Quincy:

So, after a day that’s just absolutely draining, I sometimes manage to force myself to slow down—you know, light a candle, settle in, and try to find some peace through meditation. Some days it works beautifully, and other times? Not so much. There are even those nights where I don't even bother trying because my brain is just too scattered and restless to sit still. But then there are those rare, perfect moments where I don't have to push at all; it just happens spontaneously. Honestly, those are the best moments of all.

That’s totally fine—really, there’s nothing wrong with that approach. Honestly, I’d much rather someone try to lower their stress levels through meditation than not bother at all. It's better than nothing, right? But at the same time, I can't help but feel like it's a bit of a missed opportunity if you aren't practicing that mindfulness while you're actually at work. If you could catch the stress before it even takes root during the workday, you'd be heading home feeling completely unburdened. You wouldn't just be "managing" the pressure—you'd be avoiding the buildup entirely. That way, you could actually show up for your life at home and give your full attention to whatever matters most, instead of being stuck constantly relying on how well a specific "stress reduction" technique worked for you later in the evening.

I’m telling you this from my own personal experience—and trust me, I work in one of the most high-pressure industries out there today. Believe me when I say that very little compares to the sheer stress of being forced to produce something "creative" on an impossibly tight deadline. Having to whip up a design by "tomorrow morning" and then being held responsible for how it actually performs in the market? That is a genuine pain in the ass.

Quincy:

So, what now? Am I supposed to just sit around waiting for some perfect, "ideal" moment to strike? Honestly, I’ve just started tailoring my practice to fit my own life—making things work for me rather than fighting against them. And you know what? After doing some "targeted" meditation, I actually feel this deep sense of peace; my mind is just... quiet. Sometimes it even feels more profound than when I just dive into it spontaneously. I don't really have any grand, profound wisdom to drop on anyone here. I've just come to accept that what works for me might not work for someone else at all—and that’s perfectly okay. It goes both ways, really.

Well, nothing much to say there... 🙂

Look, I’m not coming out here saying anyone needs to drop their habits, overhaul their lifestyle, or make excuses because of what I have to say. I’m just offering a different perspective—strictly my own personal take. I’m not out here peddling an ideology, a specific technique, or some rigid belief system... I don't see myself as someone who is "fixing" anyone, nor do I believe people actually *need* fixing.

If someone happens to stumble upon something interesting in my words—maybe they tuck a little thought away just as a "curiosity" or a "possibility"—well, then if I happen to be right, that person will likely find those ideas resurfacing at just the right moment. It'll hit them when those ideas offer a cleaner, simpler way to make sense of their own "life drama" than whatever old interpretations they were clinging to before.

On the flip side, if I’ve just rambled on through a heap of nonsense, that nonsense won't offer any better explanations for anything. In that case, and quite rightfully so, nobody will even bother remembering the junk I wrote about two months down the road. That’s just how I see things. 🙂

In my experience, people react to my views in all sorts of ways; some are just genuinely curious, while others can get pretty prickly. Usually, that tension kicks in when people sense there might be some truth to what I'm saying. It’s like if you tried to convince someone that the Earth is shaped like a pyramid—which is obviously absurd—they’d probably just laugh it off. They wouldn't feel the need to push back with a question like:

Quincy:

Have you ever stopped to wonder who I am to be lecturing anyone else?

Typically, the folks reacting to my thoughts fall into two camps: those who are already doubting the very same things I am, or those who are terrified of the possibility that I might actually be right. The latter group tends to resort to belittling or provocation, and honestly, I always enjoy giving them a taste of their own medicine—sometimes even a bit more.

But at the end of the day, I walk away having learned something from both groups. Whether they decide to learn something themselves is entirely up to them. I'm not here to be anyone's teacher... I'm primarily here to learn something for myself.

Uh… 🙂 Honestly, you haven't. I don't think you're writing nonsense at all. While I find myself agreeing with the vast majority of your posts, I always love finding those specific points where we might hold differing perspectives. Thank you for such an exhaustive opening to your post; I truly have nothing to add to it 😉

Edward Flores4 said:Everything I say—just like everything anyone else ever says—is nothing more than a personal representation and a glimpse through the lens of "the one speaking." No one is actually in a position to give you anything other than their own specific perspective on how things look. There isn't some ultimate authority out there that can tell you exactly how the color red is supposed to appear to you. For you, red is simply whatever it is that you perceive as red... and that’s that. Period.

I honestly don't see why you feel the need to constantly emphasize that this is "your vision"—it’s pretty much obvious from the jump, isn't it?

Quincy:

Don't you think that’s exactly where the beauty lies? The fact that you have the total freedom to interpret one thing—in this case, meditation—on your own terms. It’s like we can both be absolutely right at the same time, just because I'm looking at it through my lens while you're viewing it through yours.

Honestly? I don't see the beauty in it, but I don't see a problem either. I'm totally on board with the idea that if someone feels like they need to go see a psychiatrist, then they really should—it’s probably worth having someone give their headspace a professional "tune-up." In other words, if you feel like you need something, you need it. If you feel like you don't, then you don't. It’s as simple as that.

Quincy:

Look, I get it—to you, meditation is this spontaneous state of being, something that just flows constantly without any way to measure it... But the way you're presenting it to us here feels a bit limited—it's ultimately bounded by your own personal perspective and how you choose to quantify it.

If we actually knew one another—like, truly, deeply knew each other—then my words would have some kind of measurable weight when held up against who I really am. But since we’re essentially strangers, my words aren't really "me" to you; instead, they just act as raw material for your own mind to build a mental picture. And that picture—whatever version of me you’ve constructed in your head—is really just a projection of your own psyche. In a way, you’re actually measuring my words against your own internal compass, because you're the one who shaped that image based on what I said. I know, it sounds a bit deep and maybe even a little complicated... but I think if you sit with it for a second, you'll catch my drift.

I just want to be clear about my position here—I’m only ever sharing what I personally perceive, which is really the only thing I’m capable of talking about. The actual process of measuring or comparing those ideas? That happens entirely within you, the reader. In my view, what you choose to measure and the final result you get from that measurement are two completely different, disconnected things. It’s like that old saying: the map is not the territory. 🙂

Quincy:

Have you ever stopped to wonder who I actually am to be telling anyone else what meditation IS? At the end of the day, all I can really offer is my own perspective—just my own take on what the whole thing means to me.

Of course I am. Honestly, I’ve come to realize that the whole point of these forums is the actual exchange of ideas—where we seek out those different perspectives that can actually stretch our own horizons. If someone comes here just looking for an echo chamber where everyone agrees with them, they’re going to end up incredibly frustrated. That kind of "yes-man" environment—that constant seeking of like-minded validation—is exactly what you find in religious institutions, political parties, cults, or sects. That's not why we're here.

Look, I’m not claiming to be some kind of untouchable authority figure here—I’m just the author of my own thoughts. That’s really all there is to it. To me, writing "with authority" doesn't mean I'm claiming to have the absolute truth, or that I can't be dead wrong sometimes. It just means I actually stand behind everything I put on the page. When I say that, I mean I’ve done the work to ensure that every single sentence, every specific word, and every concept I bring up can be broken down and explained through dozens of different metaphors, analogies, perspectives, or real-world examples. If we get into a debate, I should be able to define exactly what I mean by any term I use. I won't hide behind vague excuses like "it's ineffable," "it's a state of no-mind," or some other spiritual way of saying "I've surrendered my reason to a higher power." I believe in being clear, not hiding behind mystery.

So, I’m not really trying to lecture you all here—not by a long shot. What I’m actually looking for is some solid, high-quality counterarguments. See, there's this funny little paradox where every time we expand our "scope of understanding," we simultaneously push out the boundaries of what we don't understand even further. It's like chasing a horizon line—the more you move toward it, the more space opens up ahead of you. Since the "unknown" is essentially defined by its own mystery, I find myself relying on others to act as "agents" who can help facilitate an encounter with that unknown. In my view, that's really the only mechanism we have for pushing the needle of understanding any further.

Believe it or not, I’m really just here to run into something completely unexpected—to stumble upon ideas I haven't even considered yet. In the meantime, I figure I'll spend my time stress-testing everything I think I know by engaging with people who don't see eye to eye with me. Don't get me wrong, chatting with people who agree with everything I say is easy, but it doesn't actually move the needle or lead to anything constructive. It's just an echo chamber. I think that pretty much sums me up.

Quincy:

I mean, I’m just being honest when I say this—it sounds absolutely beautiful, right? The idea of living in a constant state of meditation, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. But let's be real for a second—isn't it a bit of an illusion to expect that from "regular" people like us?

Nobody is actually "ordinary"... everyone is inherently unique. The thing is, you only tend to notice the unusual because it stands out against the backdrop of what we consider normal. It’s like how you only really register a massive mountain or a jagged peak because it breaks up the flat, endless stretch of a plain between two hills. But hey, let's look closer at that...

If I actually walked around thinking I was some special snowflake or fundamentally different from "regular folks," I wouldn't be bothering to share my perspective with anyone at all. Honestly, I see myself as just as much an "average Joe" as anybody else—which, if you think about it, makes us all pretty much the same kind of unconventional. No one is born with a golden ticket or marked as "chosen." Everything I’ve managed to figure out or achieve is stuff that anyone else could do if they put in the work. I don't have some secret, unfair advantage that would somehow justify treating "you regular people" differently or suggest that there's some level of insight that's just off-limits to everyone else.

Quincy:

So, after a day that’s just absolutely draining, I sometimes manage to force myself to slow down—you know, light a candle, settle in, and try to find some peace through meditation. Some days it works beautifully, and other times? Not so much. There are even those nights where I don't even bother trying because my brain is just too scattered and restless to sit still. But then there are those rare, perfect moments where I don't have to push at all; it just happens spontaneously. Honestly, those are the best moments of all.

That’s totally fine—really, there’s nothing wrong with that approach. Honestly, I’d much rather someone try to lower their stress levels through meditation than not bother at all. It's better than nothing, right? But at the same time, I can't help but feel like it's a bit of a missed opportunity if you aren't practicing that mindfulness while you're actually at work. If you could catch the stress before it even takes root during the workday, you'd be heading home feeling completely unburdened. You wouldn't just be "managing" the pressure—you'd be avoiding the buildup entirely. That way, you could actually show up for your life at home and give your full attention to whatever matters most, instead of being stuck constantly relying on how well a specific "stress reduction" technique worked for you later in the evening.

I’m telling you this from my own personal experience—and trust me, I work in one of the most high-pressure industries out there today. Believe me when I say that very little compares to the sheer stress of being forced to produce something "creative" on an impossibly tight deadline. Having to whip up a design by "tomorrow morning" and then being held responsible for how it actually performs in the market? That is a genuine pain in the ass.

Quincy:

So, what now? Am I supposed to just sit around waiting for some perfect, "ideal" moment to strike? Honestly, I’ve just started tailoring my practice to fit my own life—making things work for me rather than fighting against them. And you know what? After doing some "targeted" meditation, I actually feel this deep sense of peace; my mind is just... quiet. Sometimes it even feels more profound than when I just dive into it spontaneously. I don't really have any grand, profound wisdom to drop on anyone here. I've just come to accept that what works for me might not work for someone else at all—and that’s perfectly okay. It goes both ways, really.

Well, nothing much to say there... 🙂

Look, I’m not coming out here saying anyone needs to drop their habits, overhaul their lifestyle, or make excuses because of what I have to say. I’m just offering a different perspective—strictly my own personal take. I’m not out here peddling an ideology, a specific technique, or some rigid belief system... I don't see myself as someone who is "fixing" anyone, nor do I believe people actually *need* fixing.

If someone happens to stumble upon something interesting in my words—maybe they tuck a little thought away just as a "curiosity" or a "possibility"—well, then if I happen to be right, that person will likely find those ideas resurfacing at just the right moment. It'll hit them when those ideas offer a cleaner, simpler way to make sense of their own "life drama" than whatever old interpretations they were clinging to before.

On the flip side, if I’ve just rambled on through a heap of nonsense, that nonsense won't offer any better explanations for anything. In that case, and quite rightfully so, nobody will even bother remembering the junk I wrote about two months down the road. That’s just how I see things. 🙂

In my experience, people react to my views in all sorts of ways; some are just genuinely curious, while others can get pretty prickly. Usually, that tension kicks in when people sense there might be some truth to what I'm saying. It’s like if you tried to convince someone that the Earth is shaped like a pyramid—which is obviously absurd—they’d probably just laugh it off. They wouldn't feel the need to push back with a question like:

Quincy:

Have you ever stopped to wonder who I am to be lecturing anyone else?

Typically, the folks reacting to my thoughts fall into two camps: those who are already doubting the very same things I am, or those who are terrified of the possibility that I might actually be right. The latter group tends to resort to belittling or provocation, and honestly, I always enjoy giving them a taste of their own medicine—sometimes even a bit more.

But at the end of the day, I walk away having learned something from both groups. Whether they decide to learn something themselves is entirely up to them. I'm not here to be anyone's teacher... I'm primarily here to learn something for myself.

Meditation is just one tool in the kit for managing stress. However, in those moments when I’m feeling overwhelmed, I tend to prefer—well, doing nothing at all. I just let the stress wash over me and pass on its own. Stress is chaotic and loud... whereas meditation is gentle... quiet. If I feel like meditation might actually help, I’ll give it a shot. In most cases, it does help, at least as a kind of first aid. But that isn't my "true" meditation; it’s more of a functional, targeted approach that I only turn to during actual crises. It’s much like how I never take tranquilizers; this serves as my substitute

That is precisely why I talk about various different types of meditation. That is why I can't give you a single, definitive definition of what meditation is. And that is why I gave you the same warning

Ultimately, a meditative state should be a person's natural baseline, just as excitement is a natural state
You mention that it's a shame not to meditate at work. For me, in most instances, I actually manage to do it—especially after gaining a few years of experience under my belt, once you learn how to carry yourself in a professional environment and stop reacting so intensely to every little thing. But that is a skill that must be learned, or at least, it was something I personally had to struggle to master
Shaman, for me, there are no magic formulas... It would be wonderful if there were a technique you knew would provide instant relief every single time. But there isn't. There is no universal recipe. What works for me today might be completely useless tomorrow

The only thing I truly strive for is to remain at peace, no matter what happens. And I am genuinely grateful whenever I manage to sustain that for a few days in a row

Quincy:

Edward Flores4 As specified by: Only those individuals truly capable of it actually meditate. Anything that isn't spontaneous simply isn't meditation. It is only through spontaneity that one can be truly free from the constant "calculating" of the mind. Real meditation is nothing more than a direct, raw reactivity to pure perception. This scheduled, disciplined practice of "sitting down to meditate" isn't spontaneous at all... it's just another thing you plan, measure, and ultimately expect something from...

So spoken Shamantrix Shaman... 🙂

Shamantrix Shaman, you’ve provided such an incredibly thorough explanation to all of us here regarding your personal philosophy on meditation and what it truly represents to you... It was quite a deep dive. I noticed you brought Krishnamurti into the conversation as well, which isn't exactly surprising given his influence; there is something about his essays that allows almost anyone to find a piece of themselves within his words... though, of course, one must be careful to steer clear of any lingering dogmatism...
Don't you think that’s exactly where the beauty lies—in the absolute freedom to interpret a single concept, like meditation, on your own terms? It feels to me that you are just as right in your interpretation as I am in mine, when I choose to approach it through my own lens... For you, meditation is this spontaneous state of being, an unbroken flow that exists beyond measure, something that simply *is*... And yet, there is a subtle irony here; the way you present this concept to us is actually quite constrained, because it is bounded by your own specific definitions. By defining meditation as something inherently spontaneous, limitless, and immeasurable, you have effectively boxed it in with your own criteria. You've declared it to be those things, and thus, in your view, the conversation ends there. There is no further room for discussion... It seems as though you are directing these words of freedom only toward yourself, without truly listening to anyone else. Have you ever paused to ask yourself, who am I to dictate to another person what meditation actually IS? All you can truly offer is your own perspective on what meditation means to you...
You're right, and yet, you're not quite right either... Everything you’ve laid out is indeed meditation, but it isn't solely limited to just those things...
You know, I truly believe that meditation is both an entirely spontaneous occurrence and a measurable achievement—a deliberate pursuit of that elusive peace and profound silence...
I suppose I’m speaking purely from my own experience when I say this, but the idea of existing in a state of constant meditation, twenty-four hours a day... it sounds beautiful, truly, but isn't there something a bit illusory about expecting that from "ordinary" people like us? For me, after an exhausting, high-pressure day at the office, I sometimes manage to force myself into a moment of stillness—lighting a candle and just trying to let go through meditation. Some days, I actually succeed, and other days, I simply can't. There are moments when I don't even bother attempting it because my mind feels far too scattered and restless to settle down. But then, there are those rare, wonderful instances where I don't have to try at all; the calm just arrives on its own, spontaneously... and honestly, those are the most beautiful moments of all...
So, what now? Am I just supposed to sit around waiting for some perfect, idealized moment to arrive? I’ve finally managed to tailor my entire practice to fit who I am... and honestly, after a session of "targeted" meditation, I feel this profound sense of peace, a stillness in my mind that feels so deeply settled. Sometimes, it even feels more restorative than when I just dive into something spontaneous...
I suppose I don't really have anything particularly profound to add to the conversation here. I fully accept the idea that what resonates with me might not necessarily resonate with someone else... and the same applies in reverse...

casualtiger2 said:Yes, casualtiger2, please do elaborate 🙂. I have some familiarity with the concept of the "Dark Night of the Soul," but I don't quite see how it relates specifically to that energetic shift...

Nov 24, 2008 - This is such a fascinating subject that it really deserves its own dedicated thread...

Yes, casualtiger2, please do elaborate 🙂. I have some familiarity with the concept of the "Dark Night of the Soul," but I don't quite see how it relates specifically to that energetic shift...

Nov 24, 2008 - This is such a fascinating subject that it really deserves its own dedicated thread...
Unfortunately, I can't speak from personal experience—every Crisis I've dealt with so far has been pretty surface-level.
The Dark Night of the Soul is likely just another version of that—a crisis occurring when you shift from one level of consciousness to the next.
In Christian terms, Saint John of the Cross describes it as Dark Night of the Soul.

You can find similar ideas in this book, where the author references Assagioli—he was basically the pioneer of transpersonal psychology and focused heavily on spiritual crises and stages of development.

And here’s a more modern, and honestly quite authentic, description of the process (it's all in German, unfortunately, and my translation skills are non-existent).

It’s essentially that moment where Jesus cries out during a crisis, "My God, why have you forsaken me?" The old personality has dissolved, but God hasn't taken His place in the soul yet—so the person is left "alone" in the "darkness." Probably a pretty brutal experience.
1. initiation—moving from the root to the sacrum
2. from the sacrum to the navel
3. from the navel to the solar plexus
4. from the solar plexus to the throat (which would correspond to the crucifixion)
Each of these transitions brings its own share of crises, pain, and joy.
At the heart level, we're still working on personal achievement, which tends to be pretty unstable.
Throat energies align with devotion to the divine—that feeling of being moved, awestruck, or stunned by the mystery of life; that's what we feel right in that center.
Unfortunately, I can't speak from personal experience—every Crisis I've dealt with so far has been pretty surface-level.
The Dark Night of the Soul is likely just another version of that—a crisis occurring when you shift from one level of consciousness to the next.
In Christian terms, Saint John of the Cross describes it as Dark Night of the Soul.

You can find similar ideas in this book, where the author references Assagioli—he was basically the pioneer of transpersonal psychology and focused heavily on spiritual crises and stages of development.

And here’s a more modern, and honestly quite authentic, description of the process (it's all in German, unfortunately, and my translation skills are non-existent).

It’s essentially that moment where Jesus cries out during a crisis, "My God, why have you forsaken me?" The old personality has dissolved, but God hasn't taken His place in the soul yet—so the person is left "alone" in the "darkness." Probably a pretty brutal experience.
1. initiation—moving from the root to the sacrum
2. from the sacrum to the navel
3. from the navel to the solar plexus
4. from the solar plexus to the throat (which would correspond to the crucifixion)
Each of these transitions brings its own share of crises, pain, and joy.
At the heart level, we're still working on personal achievement, which tends to be pretty unstable.
Throat energies align with devotion to the divine—that feeling of being moved, awestruck, or stunned by the mystery of life; that's what we feel right in that center.
I can only share how I personally perceive this process. In essence, the term feels quite appropriate when describing those growing pains within our evolution 😁 regarding The Spiritual One, of course.
It is that profound sensation where doubt takes hold, fundamentally questioning every single belief we have ever constructed, while the higher order of things—that place where we truly recognize our own worth—is suddenly put entirely on the line. We find ourselves standing there, no longer certain of anything at all. This state is almost always accompanied by such deeply unsettling sensations—which is precisely why it is called the Dark Night of the Soul—a soul in the midst of suffering.
For me, this manifests as a vast, overwhelming void, an absolute sense of purposelessness... a feeling that no matter where I turn my gaze, there is only darkness. I must admit, it has been quite some time since I last experienced this particular state. Yet, once it finally passes, the path ahead becomes so much clearer, revealing exactly where I am headed and the purpose behind it all...

wiredbear2 said:

casualtiger2 said:The transition from the heart chakra to the throat center is particularly volatile. It is precisely what Christian mystics refer to as the "Dark Night of the Soul"...

What exactly do you mean by that? I would truly love it if you could expand on that thought just a little bit... 🙂

Yes, casualtiger2, please do elaborate 🙂. I have some familiarity with the concept of the "Dark Night of the Soul," but I don't quite see how it relates specifically to that energetic shift...

Nov 24, 2008 - This is such a fascinating subject that it really deserves its own dedicated thread...

bluemason3 said:The trick is when you step out into the mud (like heading to work) and everything feels quieter, calmer, and slower 🤷... almost like it's under a muffler 😁 until you actually get to the office. 🙂 🤣

Oh, I know that feeling all too well 😉 Even though I'm finding it much easier lately to maintain some level of mental composure while I'm on the clock, I am still nowhere near achieving true, deep serenity.
That is exactly why I brought up the tension between the typical Western lifestyle and genuine spirituality...

feralheron17 said:It always cracks me up when some all-encompassing type, who clearly presents themselves as a supermarket Christian or just a convenience store Christian, whatever, starts rambling about nothingness and love.
A little intuition, a bit of bullshit, a slightly stronger aura, and suddenly they're a guru.
You can tell exactly how far someone has traveled by looking at them, and naturally, by the spiritual work they’ve actually done along the way. 😉
Spirituality isn't for everyone. Neither is meditation.
Žižek should probably stick to his own lane, because the further he wanders: the more he spouts nonsense.
If his legacy ends up being even a tenth of what people say about Suzuki, he's doing alright.
Let me be clear: Suzuki isn't some self-proclaimed Western classic or a guru who descended upon the West to enlighten the masses.
He wasn't Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, who loved claiming he came to the West to calm down bad energies—as if things were worse here than in the East, though some Easterners would argue he could have calmed those energies from the East just as easily...
Buddhism is a massive science, a philosophy, a way of life.
Setting aside the fact that Christianity is totally irrelevant and the Bible is basically just a pile of accumulated, hybrid-stitched junk, Buddhism possesses a deep heritage and various lineages; not to mention there are texts over a thousand years old from Tibetan Buddhism.
Don't even get me started on the divisions between Mahayana, Theravada, and all the rest.
The only person where you could actually find "meditating on nothing" was Osho: he used to force his students to meditate on nothingness.
Tibetan Buddhism has an entire pantheon of deities: saints, adepts, lamas, travelers, sadhanists (there are plenty of names for them) within Buddhism, plus rituals dedicated to them—it's so much that the three major monotheistic religions couldn't catch up with all their holidays combined.
Maybe that's why Buddhism leans toward discarding mental concepts.
On the surface, it seems simple enough, but even highly realized lamas struggle to discard mental concepts.
Not everyone is cut out for the same Buddhist practices.
Even in the East, not everyone is ready for the path of Zen, or Mahayana, or Theravada, though these paths can be blended and practiced as dominant elements of one's life research.
If we're talking about conquests, Tibetan Buddhism isn't exempt: there isn't a single nation on Earth that hasn't had an aggressive war in its history.
But that's not the point of Zen.
To practice Buddhism, you obviously need to encounter authentic people; it develops incredible willpower, self-control, and discipline, along with concentration (which is minor compared to the other stuff).
Then there's Buddhist Tantra and Buddhist Kriya: I was personally surprised to find that Buddhism inherits such a wide array of practices that are predominantly Hindu.
And don't even get me started on the philosophy: in the US, there's no need to talk about Veljačić.
Anyway, back to Zen.
Zen, Chan, Dhyana, whatever you call it—it isn't meditating on nothing. It is: a) presence here (specifically *here*, not just "now" as Westerners reinterpret it, since Eastern cultures view here as having the connotation of now) in the external world; b) dedicated internal meditation—not on nothing or anything, but staying present externally while simultaneously not withdrawing the senses, but rather maintaining presence internally despite all external distractions, because sensory withdrawal isn't the goal: Buddhists withdraw all senses, so they can feel the blood flowing through their bodies during meditation; c) various other practices that can be, or not be, combined with Zen, such as Vipassana (which might imply concentration or breath focus, though traditionally it doesn't), Anapana (focus, attention, or concentration on the breath), mantra meditation, Tantric rituals, Kriya, certain Asanas (though Buddhism keeps this part pretty simple), etc., etc.
Zen will draw you in, especially once you live it in a temple.
You can't just be some internet fraud playing guru—scouring tarot cards, obsessing over the stars, and praying to angels—and then expect to walk into a Zen temple here in the States like Leonard Cohen did. It doesn't work that way. These places maintain a serious tradition of waking up at 4 a.m. and upholding everything inherited from those Japanese or Chinese Zen temples.
😉

I personally wouldn't want to compare the two, elevating one while casting doubt on the other.
It is widely understood that Žižek is a leftist atheist who views religion as largely redundant and even responsible for fostering an atmosphere of violence within society. In that context, he has touched upon Zen Buddhism, which is often perceived in the West as this universally peaceful religion, yet people tend to overlook the fact that the cold-blooded samurai warriors actually emerged from that very same Buddhist tradition. So, nothing is ever truly black and white, despite how popular it is to present it that way...
One really shouldn't debate religion with Žižek, as he genuinely believes the world would be a better place without it. While there might be some truth to his perspective, the reality of the matter is far more nuanced than that...

feralheron17 said:It always cracks me up when some all-encompassing type, who clearly presents themselves as a supermarket Christian or just a convenience store Christian, whatever, starts rambling about nothingness and love.
A little intuition, a bit of bullshit, a slightly stronger aura, and suddenly they're a guru.
You can tell exactly how far someone has traveled by looking at them, and naturally, by the spiritual work they’ve actually done along the way. 😉
Spirituality isn't for everyone. Neither is meditation.
Žižek should probably stick to his own lane, because the further he wanders: the more he spouts nonsense.
If his legacy ends up being even a tenth of what people say about Suzuki, he's doing alright.
Let me be clear: Suzuki isn't some self-proclaimed Western classic or a guru who descended upon the West to enlighten the masses.
He wasn't Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, who loved claiming he came to the West to calm down bad energies—as if things were worse here than in the East, though some Easterners would argue he could have calmed those energies from the East just as easily...
Buddhism is a massive science, a philosophy, a way of life.
Setting aside the fact that Christianity is totally irrelevant and the Bible is basically just a pile of accumulated, hybrid-stitched junk, Buddhism possesses a deep heritage and various lineages; not to mention there are texts over a thousand years old from Tibetan Buddhism.
Don't even get me started on the divisions between Mahayana, Theravada, and all the rest.
The only person where you could actually find "meditating on nothing" was Osho: he used to force his students to meditate on nothingness.
Tibetan Buddhism has an entire pantheon of deities: saints, adepts, lamas, travelers, sadhanists (there are plenty of names for them) within Buddhism, plus rituals dedicated to them—it's so much that the three major monotheistic religions couldn't catch up with all their holidays combined.
Maybe that's why Buddhism leans toward discarding mental concepts.
On the surface, it seems simple enough, but even highly realized lamas struggle to discard mental concepts.
Not everyone is cut out for the same Buddhist practices.
Even in the East, not everyone is ready for the path of Zen, or Mahayana, or Theravada, though these paths can be blended and practiced as dominant elements of one's life research.
If we're talking about conquests, Tibetan Buddhism isn't exempt: there isn't a single nation on Earth that hasn't had an aggressive war in its history.
But that's not the point of Zen.
To practice Buddhism, you obviously need to encounter authentic people; it develops incredible willpower, self-control, and discipline, along with concentration (which is minor compared to the other stuff).
Then there's Buddhist Tantra and Buddhist Kriya: I was personally surprised to find that Buddhism inherits such a wide array of practices that are predominantly Hindu.
And don't even get me started on the philosophy: in the US, there's no need to talk about Veljačić.
Anyway, back to Zen.
Zen, Chan, Dhyana, whatever you call it—it isn't meditating on nothing. It is: a) presence here (specifically *here*, not just "now" as Westerners reinterpret it, since Eastern cultures view here as having the connotation of now) in the external world; b) dedicated internal meditation—not on nothing or anything, but staying present externally while simultaneously not withdrawing the senses, but rather maintaining presence internally despite all external distractions, because sensory withdrawal isn't the goal: Buddhists withdraw all senses, so they can feel the blood flowing through their bodies during meditation; c) various other practices that can be, or not be, combined with Zen, such as Vipassana (which might imply concentration or breath focus, though traditionally it doesn't), Anapana (focus, attention, or concentration on the breath), mantra meditation, Tantric rituals, Kriya, certain Asanas (though Buddhism keeps this part pretty simple), etc., etc.
Zen will draw you in, especially once you live it in a temple.
You can't just be some internet fraud playing guru—scouring tarot cards, obsessing over the stars, and praying to angels—and then expect to walk into a Zen temple here in the States like Leonard Cohen did. It doesn't work that way. These places maintain a serious tradition of waking up at 4 a.m. and upholding everything inherited from those Japanese or Chinese Zen temples.
😉

Buddhism in America. Zen in America. I find myself wondering how any of this actually works when you consider that most people interested in it aren't living in monasteries or having nothing to do but contemplate all day long. Does it even make sense, or is it absolutely necessary to withdraw from society entirely to truly enter into Zen?
On one hand, you have the busy American professional, and on the other, someone living in a temple with a completely different way of structuring their life...
How does one reconcile the demands of both worlds?
Well, this isn't just an issue for Buddhism or Zen, but rather for anyone trying to commit to spirituality in general...
Everything feels wonderful while we're reading the texts—we get lost in them, we understand them, they provide a sense of validation—but how do we actually move into practice? How do you discipline yourself and truly begin to meditate when you're standing before a day packed tight with the endless obligations of this world? 🤷

I want to point out that Americans are in a very specific position here, because even though meditation and various mental techniques have become quite popular, they didn't "grow" natively in this part of the world, and there's still this lingering sense that it's all somewhat of a passing fad...

driftingraven122 said:It's Samadhi—extreme concentration, I suppose. You practice focusing until the mind itself becomes the object of meditation, at which point conceptual thought seemingly stops... or rather, becomes the object itself. After that, one simply observes the 'vibrations'—you know, 'that which is non-conceptual,' which is essentially vipassana or observing the three characteristics.

Just grab any traditional text on Theravada or Zen meditation. There are plenty of them online, I guess.

edit: bluemason3 explained it—I missed that earlier. 😬

thanks Crazy, thanks bluemason3 🙂

Today, my mind is feeling the direct impact of this cyclone, leaving me far, far away from any sense of samadhi... 😢 😵

Under this idea where the mind becomes the object, does it mean that consciousness essentially detaches from the mind, allowing the mind to then serve as the object of observation?

driftingraven122 said:No, actually—it serves the exact same purpose, and it isn't some practical display of faith so much as an elegant way to "achieve" something. Essentially, they utilize samadhi to kill off the conceptual part of the mind, then pivot to vipassana to deconstruct everything in their surroundings. Once they hit that undifferentiated state, reality just tosses them back into samadhi, where they watch everything reconstruct itself—and by repeating this, they lose duality. Zen meditation follows the same logic, just... phrased slightly differently.

So, samadhi targets the conceptual mind, while vipassana works to 'deconstruct everything surrounding them.' Could you elaborate on that? 🙂

And what does meditation actually look like in Zen?

jademarlin26 said:I am uncertain what Zen is, but I know quite well what it is not.

Practicing Zen in Japan is a family business, and that is how it should be viewed. Just as Petrov's Christianity has nothing to do with Jesus's teachings, neither does the Zen of Dogen Zenji or Myoan Eisai relate to Buddha's teachings. Given your familiarity with Zizek's thought, you likely know his critique of D. T. Suzuki's perspective on Zen, which clearly shows the Japanese Zen community's support for imperialist campaigns in China and Korea (to say nothing of its influence on the warrior mindset in medieval Japan). Conquering and killing other nations has nothing to do with Buddha's teachings, yet some will still deem those who support such things as competent simply because they live in monasteries, shave their heads, and practice zazen all day, using them as "pro" arguments in debates.

Zen is not found in reciting sutras or performing rituals. These may assist someone unable to verbalize an experience, much like a cane helps one walk while "ill." Once you are healed, the cane is no longer necessary. People enjoy getting lost in translation; it would simply be helpful if they were aware of it, as I cannot deny it can be entertaining. 🙂

Are you referring to Pauline Christianity?

jademarlin26 said:I am uncertain what Zen is, but I know quite well what it is not.

Practicing Zen in Japan is a family business, and that is how it should be viewed. Just as Petrov's Christianity has nothing to do with Jesus's teachings, neither does the Zen of Dogen Zenji or Myoan Eisai relate to Buddha's teachings. Given your familiarity with Zizek's thought, you likely know his critique of D. T. Suzuki's perspective on Zen, which clearly shows the Japanese Zen community's support for imperialist campaigns in China and Korea (to say nothing of its influence on the warrior mindset in medieval Japan). Conquering and killing other nations has nothing to do with Buddha's teachings, yet some will still deem those who support such things as competent simply because they live in monasteries, shave their heads, and practice zazen all day, using them as "pro" arguments in debates.

Zen is not found in reciting sutras or performing rituals. These may assist someone unable to verbalize an experience, much like a cane helps one walk while "ill." Once you are healed, the cane is no longer necessary. People enjoy getting lost in translation; it would simply be helpful if they were aware of it, as I cannot deny it can be entertaining. 🙂

It all points to the fact that a single idea can spawn countless different interpretations... and that any concept, no matter how pure or sublime it may be, can be corrupted depending on who wields it and what their ultimate goals might be.

We shouldn't crucify the idea itself because of its misuse.
I mean, back in the early days of Christianity, who could have possibly imagined that a few hundred years later, there would be Crusades fought in the name of Christ?

I felt that same sense of shock when I realized how Zen was used to calm the minds of warriors just so they could kill more effectively later on... or, more modernly, as an exercise for Western corporate managers to help them make cold decisions about laying off employees...
It is living proof of how even the most noble tool becomes a lethal weapon when placed in the wrong hands.

Edward Flores4 said:That’s honestly a bit of a non-starter. Look, myths can certainly draw inspiration from real people and actual events, but they don't have to—not by any rule. In most cases, that isn't even how it works. It would be pretty hard to argue that there was a single "Jesus" figure living in every single culture across history just to serve as the basis for their various mythological legends.

You know, I’ve been spending a lot of time lately thinking about those old stories—the ones centered around figures like Buddha, Jesus, and Horus. It’s funny how we tend to look at them as these separate, isolated pillars of history, right? But when you really start digging into the patterns, it feels more like looking at different facets of the same diamond. It's almost like watching three different directors take the exact same script and film it in three different genres. One might make it a quiet, meditative drama, another a grand epic, and the third a gritty survival story—but the core message, that underlying human truth they're all trying to tap into, stays remarkably consistent. Whether you're following the path laid out by Buddha, the teachings of Jesus, or the ancient symbolism of Horus, there's this shared pulse—this recurring theme of transformation and finding light in the middle of total darkness. It makes you wonder if these aren't just individual lives, but rather different ways the human spirit tries to make sense of the same massive, overwhelming mystery.
It’s funny how we look back at history and see these recurring patterns, isn't it? I was just thinking about the parallels between ancient Sumerian concepts and the Catholic Trinity—it's like looking at two different versions of the same cosmic blueprint. You have these deep, foundational ideas about divinity being split into three distinct yet inseparable parts, and whether you're looking at the sands of Mesopotamia or the cathedrals of the West, that structural logic seems to hold firm. It makes you wonder if humanity is just constantly rediscovering the same fundamental truths under different names.
It’s just one thing after another—stories about the Virgin Mary, Sumiramis, Isis... you could go on forever like that. It's like looking at a endless loop of archetypes, isn't it?

It’s honestly pretty hard for me to wrap my head around the idea that every thousand years or so, these larger-than-life figures emerge—people who end up inspiring the exact same myths across completely different cultures and totally different eras of history. It feels almost surreal when you really sit with it.

I honestly think these people have been gone long enough to drift into the realm of myth—which, obviously, doesn't mean they weren't flesh and blood who actually walked this earth at one point. 😉

I’m with you there... I wouldn't say it's impossible, but let's be real—it is incredibly unlikely that the exact same characters and plotlines just "spontaneously" pop up again every 500 to 1,000 years. It feels a bit too much like a glitch in the matrix if you ask me. 🙂

If they’re just works of fiction, then honestly, we owe the creators a massive round of applause—I mean, I truly bow down to that level of imagination and that knack for metaphor, just like you always say.

That’s exactly it. You really have to tip your hat to those first true storytellers—the ones whose sheer imagination and wit were on another level. It’s incredible how much weight they carried once you actually wrap your head around the raw, functional power of myth. Sadly, it feels like we’re living through a chronic shortage of functional mythology these days, but honestly, that’s a whole other conversation for another time.

I was thinking the exact same thing. It’s honestly wild when you step back and look at the big picture—all those sprawling religions, the complex belief systems, the endless rituals, the intense devotion, even people spending their entire lives writing massive volumes of scripture... all of it built around this one singular goal of reaching some ultimate realization. And yet, in the end, most of it just feels like noise. It’s all just extra baggage that doesn't actually get you any closer to the truth.

Do you ever sit back and wonder if it would have been better if something like Buddhism had never even existed in the first place?

I don't really have a take on whether it would be better if certain things just didn't exist—mostly because I don't have any actual data to base an opinion on. I mean, how am I supposed to know what the world would look like without something specific? By definition, the "unknown" is... well, unknown. You can't exactly weigh the pros and cons of a void. 😁

I’m just saying—it feels pretty wild to be sitting here in 2008 trying to build some kind of serious "practice" on top of ancient, outdated mythologies. We’re basically playing around with symbols from cultures we don't truly know, all based on a cosmology that we don't even begin to grasp.

If you happened to run into someone out on the street today claiming they just arrived from some "heavenly kingdom," or—even better—looking you dead in the eye and insisting they’re actually a god, what do you think would happen? Honestly, I feel like the reaction would be pretty much instantaneous. In a world where we’re all so hyper-connected and, let's face it, a little bit cynical, most people wouldn't even give them a second thought. You’d probably see a few confused glances, maybe a smirk, and then everyone would just go back to scrolling through their phones or rushing to catch the subway. It’s that classic modern reflex—if it doesn't fit into our logical, everyday reality, we just categorize it as "weird" or "crazy" and move on. But there’s a deeper layer to it, too. Depending on where you are—say, if this happened in the middle of Times Square versus a quiet suburb in Ohio—the response might shift slightly. In a big city, you’ve got enough chaos that a self-proclaimed deity might just become part of the background noise. But in a smaller town? People might get genuinely concerned. There’d likely be a call to some local mental health services or even the police, simply because our society is built on the idea that everyone needs to stay grounded in a shared, predictable reality. We have these very specific social scripts for how to behave, and claiming to be a celestial being definitely breaks the script. It makes me wonder about the thin line between profound spiritual experience and what we label as a break from reality. We live in such a structured way now—everything is mapped out, quantified, and checked against "common sense"—that anything truly transcendent or wildly unconventional feels like a glitch in the system. It’s almost like we’ve lost the capacity to sit with the truly strange without immediately trying to "fix" it or dismiss it.

People would probably just give him a quick nod or a respectful bow as they passed by on the sidewalk, and then they'd just go right back to their day.
They’d basically just launch an entirely new religion and start crowning him as their prophet.
c) you'd probably just call an ambulance to get him some medical help

Unless you follow a Hindu or Buddhist faith. Their meditation is kind of like how a Catholic might pray the Rosary.

Exactly. It’s basically a mental discipline used as a way to manage the masses through mainstream religion. It fills that gap of personal privacy—that little corner of the soul that the government and politics can't quite reach—by handing it over to "religious services."

It depends. Their meditation is different because it serves a different purpose. It acts as an affirmation of their faith—a practical, lived expression of what they believe.

That's true, but once you realize that "faith = not knowing"... then every single religious affirmation starts to look like something you feel compassion for rather than something you debate.

I totally agree 😉 On the flip side, if I have a specific personal goal I want to hit—which is what my version of meditation is—what happens if I'm just using meditation as a tool to achieve that end?

Then it's just a mystified justification—a fancy way to wrap up a tool for personal ambition that actually has nothing to do with mythology or spirituality at all.

History as we record it is built more on assumptions than on proven facts, anyway... If you manage to separate the actual human being from the myth constructed around them, you find a concrete, living person who once walked this earth. The myth of the mother and her son is pure symbolism. Why do you insist on taking everything at face value?
Don't you feel you're missing what lies beneath the surface, beyond the mere mechanics of it all?

For instance, to me, what that myth and its symbolism represent—the message it carries—is far more vital than whether it can be formally proven through documentation.

If I told you that I feel this on a plane of existence entirely different from this tangible one, you'd probably just say I've lost my mind.

Edward Flores4 said:That’s honestly a bit of a non-starter. Look, myths can certainly draw inspiration from real people and actual events, but they don't have to—not by any rule. In most cases, that isn't even how it works. It would be pretty hard to argue that there was a single "Jesus" figure living in every single culture across history just to serve as the basis for their various mythological legends.

You know, I’ve been spending a lot of time lately thinking about those old stories—the ones centered around figures like Buddha, Jesus, and Horus. It’s funny how we tend to look at them as these separate, isolated pillars of history, right? But when you really start digging into the patterns, it feels more like looking at different facets of the same diamond. It's almost like watching three different directors take the exact same script and film it in three different genres. One might make it a quiet, meditative drama, another a grand epic, and the third a gritty survival story—but the core message, that underlying human truth they're all trying to tap into, stays remarkably consistent. Whether you're following the path laid out by Buddha, the teachings of Jesus, or the ancient symbolism of Horus, there's this shared pulse—this recurring theme of transformation and finding light in the middle of total darkness. It makes you wonder if these aren't just individual lives, but rather different ways the human spirit tries to make sense of the same massive, overwhelming mystery.
It’s funny how we look back at history and see these recurring patterns, isn't it? I was just thinking about the parallels between ancient Sumerian concepts and the Catholic Trinity—it's like looking at two different versions of the same cosmic blueprint. You have these deep, foundational ideas about divinity being split into three distinct yet inseparable parts, and whether you're looking at the sands of Mesopotamia or the cathedrals of the West, that structural logic seems to hold firm. It makes you wonder if humanity is just constantly rediscovering the same fundamental truths under different names.
It’s just one thing after another—stories about the Virgin Mary, Sumiramis, Isis... you could go on forever like that. It's like looking at a endless loop of archetypes, isn't it?

It’s honestly pretty hard for me to wrap my head around the idea that every thousand years or so, these larger-than-life figures emerge—people who end up inspiring the exact same myths across completely different cultures and totally different eras of history. It feels almost surreal when you really sit with it.

I honestly think these people have been gone long enough to drift into the realm of myth—which, obviously, doesn't mean they weren't flesh and blood who actually walked this earth at one point. 😉

I’m with you there... I wouldn't say it's impossible, but let's be real—it is incredibly unlikely that the exact same characters and plotlines just "spontaneously" pop up again every 500 to 1,000 years. It feels a bit too much like a glitch in the matrix if you ask me. 🙂

If they’re just works of fiction, then honestly, we owe the creators a massive round of applause—I mean, I truly bow down to that level of imagination and that knack for metaphor, just like you always say.

That’s exactly it. You really have to tip your hat to those first true storytellers—the ones whose sheer imagination and wit were on another level. It’s incredible how much weight they carried once you actually wrap your head around the raw, functional power of myth. Sadly, it feels like we’re living through a chronic shortage of functional mythology these days, but honestly, that’s a whole other conversation for another time.

I was thinking the exact same thing. It’s honestly wild when you step back and look at the big picture—all those sprawling religions, the complex belief systems, the endless rituals, the intense devotion, even people spending their entire lives writing massive volumes of scripture... all of it built around this one singular goal of reaching some ultimate realization. And yet, in the end, most of it just feels like noise. It’s all just extra baggage that doesn't actually get you any closer to the truth.

Do you ever sit back and wonder if it would have been better if something like Buddhism had never even existed in the first place?

I don't really have a take on whether it would be better if certain things just didn't exist—mostly because I don't have any actual data to base an opinion on. I mean, how am I supposed to know what the world would look like without something specific? By definition, the "unknown" is... well, unknown. You can't exactly weigh the pros and cons of a void. 😁

I’m just saying—it feels pretty wild to be sitting here in 2008 trying to build some kind of serious "practice" on top of ancient, outdated mythologies. We’re basically playing around with symbols from cultures we don't truly know, all based on a cosmology that we don't even begin to grasp.

If you happened to run into someone out on the street today claiming they just arrived from some "heavenly kingdom," or—even better—looking you dead in the eye and insisting they’re actually a god, what do you think would happen? Honestly, I feel like the reaction would be pretty much instantaneous. In a world where we’re all so hyper-connected and, let's face it, a little bit cynical, most people wouldn't even give them a second thought. You’d probably see a few confused glances, maybe a smirk, and then everyone would just go back to scrolling through their phones or rushing to catch the subway. It’s that classic modern reflex—if it doesn't fit into our logical, everyday reality, we just categorize it as "weird" or "crazy" and move on. But there’s a deeper layer to it, too. Depending on where you are—say, if this happened in the middle of Times Square versus a quiet suburb in Ohio—the response might shift slightly. In a big city, you’ve got enough chaos that a self-proclaimed deity might just become part of the background noise. But in a smaller town? People might get genuinely concerned. There’d likely be a call to some local mental health services or even the police, simply because our society is built on the idea that everyone needs to stay grounded in a shared, predictable reality. We have these very specific social scripts for how to behave, and claiming to be a celestial being definitely breaks the script. It makes me wonder about the thin line between profound spiritual experience and what we label as a break from reality. We live in such a structured way now—everything is mapped out, quantified, and checked against "common sense"—that anything truly transcendent or wildly unconventional feels like a glitch in the system. It’s almost like we’ve lost the capacity to sit with the truly strange without immediately trying to "fix" it or dismiss it.

People would probably just give him a quick nod or a respectful bow as they passed by on the sidewalk, and then they'd just go right back to their day.
They’d basically just launch an entirely new religion and start crowning him as their prophet.
c) you'd probably just call an ambulance to get him some medical help

Unless you follow a Hindu or Buddhist faith. Their meditation is kind of like how a Catholic might pray the Rosary.

Exactly. It’s basically a mental discipline used as a way to manage the masses through mainstream religion. It fills that gap of personal privacy—that little corner of the soul that the government and politics can't quite reach—by handing it over to "religious services."

It depends. Their meditation is different because it serves a different purpose. It acts as an affirmation of their faith—a practical, lived expression of what they believe.

That's true, but once you realize that "faith = not knowing"... then every single religious affirmation starts to look like something you feel compassion for rather than something you debate.

I totally agree 😉 On the flip side, if I have a specific personal goal I want to hit—which is what my version of meditation is—what happens if I'm just using meditation as a tool to achieve that end?

Then it's just a mystified justification—a fancy way to wrap up a tool for personal ambition that actually has nothing to do with mythology or spirituality at all.

But isn't it striking how the exact same pattern keeps repeating itself?
The mother and the son—they stand for something, they symbolize something deeper.
They symbolize change, movement, a constant flux.
Our world, the very life we experience, is defined by perpetual change.
Birth and death, the constant shifting between life and passing away... the dynamic interplay of life and death is always intertwined.
A goddess becomes fertile, brings a son into the world, and there is an era of abundance, growth, and prosperity, which then gradually fades away and... dies. But not forever.
Life triumphs over death through new life, a kind of "resurrection," where the son returns to the earth, life returns, and yet another cycle begins. Think about what that might remind you of...
That is what myth is. It is the attempt to symbolically preserve our existence within tradition and pass it down to future generations. It's a brilliant concept.
I'd highly recommend reading 'Sacred Science' by George Santayana; it speaks beautifully about the myths and traditions of various cultures—Western, Eastern... throughout the history of humanity.

Edward Flores4 said:That’s honestly a bit of a non-starter. Look, myths can certainly draw inspiration from real people and actual events, but they don't have to—not by any rule. In most cases, that isn't even how it works. It would be pretty hard to argue that there was a single "Jesus" figure living in every single culture across history just to serve as the basis for their various mythological legends.

You know, I’ve been spending a lot of time lately thinking about those old stories—the ones centered around figures like Buddha, Jesus, and Horus. It’s funny how we tend to look at them as these separate, isolated pillars of history, right? But when you really start digging into the patterns, it feels more like looking at different facets of the same diamond. It's almost like watching three different directors take the exact same script and film it in three different genres. One might make it a quiet, meditative drama, another a grand epic, and the third a gritty survival story—but the core message, that underlying human truth they're all trying to tap into, stays remarkably consistent. Whether you're following the path laid out by Buddha, the teachings of Jesus, or the ancient symbolism of Horus, there's this shared pulse—this recurring theme of transformation and finding light in the middle of total darkness. It makes you wonder if these aren't just individual lives, but rather different ways the human spirit tries to make sense of the same massive, overwhelming mystery.
It’s funny how we look back at history and see these recurring patterns, isn't it? I was just thinking about the parallels between ancient Sumerian concepts and the Catholic Trinity—it's like looking at two different versions of the same cosmic blueprint. You have these deep, foundational ideas about divinity being split into three distinct yet inseparable parts, and whether you're looking at the sands of Mesopotamia or the cathedrals of the West, that structural logic seems to hold firm. It makes you wonder if humanity is just constantly rediscovering the same fundamental truths under different names.
It’s just one thing after another—stories about the Virgin Mary, Sumiramis, Isis... you could go on forever like that. It's like looking at a endless loop of archetypes, isn't it?

It’s honestly pretty hard for me to wrap my head around the idea that every thousand years or so, these larger-than-life figures emerge—people who end up inspiring the exact same myths across completely different cultures and totally different eras of history. It feels almost surreal when you really sit with it.

I honestly think these people have been gone long enough to drift into the realm of myth—which, obviously, doesn't mean they weren't flesh and blood who actually walked this earth at one point. 😉

I’m with you there... I wouldn't say it's impossible, but let's be real—it is incredibly unlikely that the exact same characters and plotlines just "spontaneously" pop up again every 500 to 1,000 years. It feels a bit too much like a glitch in the matrix if you ask me. 🙂

If they’re just works of fiction, then honestly, we owe the creators a massive round of applause—I mean, I truly bow down to that level of imagination and that knack for metaphor, just like you always say.

That’s exactly it. You really have to tip your hat to those first true storytellers—the ones whose sheer imagination and wit were on another level. It’s incredible how much weight they carried once you actually wrap your head around the raw, functional power of myth. Sadly, it feels like we’re living through a chronic shortage of functional mythology these days, but honestly, that’s a whole other conversation for another time.

I was thinking the exact same thing. It’s honestly wild when you step back and look at the big picture—all those sprawling religions, the complex belief systems, the endless rituals, the intense devotion, even people spending their entire lives writing massive volumes of scripture... all of it built around this one singular goal of reaching some ultimate realization. And yet, in the end, most of it just feels like noise. It’s all just extra baggage that doesn't actually get you any closer to the truth.

Do you ever sit back and wonder if it would have been better if something like Buddhism had never even existed in the first place?

I don't really have a take on whether it would be better if certain things just didn't exist—mostly because I don't have any actual data to base an opinion on. I mean, how am I supposed to know what the world would look like without something specific? By definition, the "unknown" is... well, unknown. You can't exactly weigh the pros and cons of a void. 😁

I’m just saying—it feels pretty wild to be sitting here in 2008 trying to build some kind of serious "practice" on top of ancient, outdated mythologies. We’re basically playing around with symbols from cultures we don't truly know, all based on a cosmology that we don't even begin to grasp.

If you happened to run into someone out on the street today claiming they just arrived from some "heavenly kingdom," or—even better—looking you dead in the eye and insisting they’re actually a god, what do you think would happen? Honestly, I feel like the reaction would be pretty much instantaneous. In a world where we’re all so hyper-connected and, let's face it, a little bit cynical, most people wouldn't even give them a second thought. You’d probably see a few confused glances, maybe a smirk, and then everyone would just go back to scrolling through their phones or rushing to catch the subway. It’s that classic modern reflex—if it doesn't fit into our logical, everyday reality, we just categorize it as "weird" or "crazy" and move on. But there’s a deeper layer to it, too. Depending on where you are—say, if this happened in the middle of Times Square versus a quiet suburb in Ohio—the response might shift slightly. In a big city, you’ve got enough chaos that a self-proclaimed deity might just become part of the background noise. But in a smaller town? People might get genuinely concerned. There’d likely be a call to some local mental health services or even the police, simply because our society is built on the idea that everyone needs to stay grounded in a shared, predictable reality. We have these very specific social scripts for how to behave, and claiming to be a celestial being definitely breaks the script. It makes me wonder about the thin line between profound spiritual experience and what we label as a break from reality. We live in such a structured way now—everything is mapped out, quantified, and checked against "common sense"—that anything truly transcendent or wildly unconventional feels like a glitch in the system. It’s almost like we’ve lost the capacity to sit with the truly strange without immediately trying to "fix" it or dismiss it.

People would probably just give him a quick nod or a respectful bow as they passed by on the sidewalk, and then they'd just go right back to their day.
They’d basically just launch an entirely new religion and start crowning him as their prophet.
c) you'd probably just call an ambulance to get him some medical help

Unless you follow a Hindu or Buddhist faith. Their meditation is kind of like how a Catholic might pray the Rosary.

Exactly. It’s basically a mental discipline used as a way to manage the masses through mainstream religion. It fills that gap of personal privacy—that little corner of the soul that the government and politics can't quite reach—by handing it over to "religious services."

It depends. Their meditation is different because it serves a different purpose. It acts as an affirmation of their faith—a practical, lived expression of what they believe.

That's true, but once you realize that "faith = not knowing"... then every single religious affirmation starts to look like something you feel compassion for rather than something you debate.

I totally agree 😉 On the flip side, if I have a specific personal goal I want to hit—which is what my version of meditation is—what happens if I'm just using meditation as a tool to achieve that end?

Then it's just a mystified justification—a fancy way to wrap up a tool for personal ambition that actually has nothing to do with mythology or spirituality at all.

We have something else entirely ahead of us now. We need to save this planet from ourselves... 😉