Posts by jademarlin26

ironsailor10 said:To all of you who are struggling right now.
Use your spirit to quiet those physical cravings.
That’s really the only way you’re going to find healing.
Honestly, it was that very lust that led you down this path toward sickness in the first place.
It isn't easy—not by a long shot—but it's the only real way out if you want to escape the suffering and get healthy again.
Just stay steady. Don't beat yourself up if you feel like you're failing; it happens.
Bit by bit, the pain will start to fade away.
Don't try to bury the desire or pretend you don't love it.
Just use your mind to guide and control that hunger until it naturally burns itself out... once it does, the healing will follow.

Hey there, intentional traveler, what kind of Buddhism are you pushing? It’s a mental game, not a physical one. Suffering lives in the thoughts, not the biceps. 😉

wearymason36 said:I’ve always resonated with Osho’s take on meditation—the idea that it’s a state achieved by detaching oneself from the stream of consciousness. Most people mistake meditation for deep contemplation; they say things like, "Last night, I meditated on Jesus" or "on Siddhartha." To me, that isn't it. Real meditation is about stepping back from the flow of thought, or at least attempting to 🙂. You can't just kill off your thoughts without chemical assistance. The only way is through detached observation—positioning yourself like a cold, objective camera inside your own psyche. When you engage in deliberate contemplation, you're actively working to shape your thoughts using intellect and logic. But with detachment, the effort is only required at the start, while you work to become aware of your internal observer and how it reacts to the subconscious surge. Once you pull away, it’s like climbing out of a raging river to simply sit and watch the waterfall.

Anyway, I just wanted to point out that the term "meditation" is being used to describe two diametrically opposed concepts here. In my view, nobody is wrong; we just need to be explicit about which definition we’re using during a conversation.

It seems to me that you *are* that stream, so I am not entirely sure who is supposed to be detaching from whom.😕

placidharbor7 said:But honestly, isn't that exactly what you've been doing this whole time?

Meditation isn't just a "way of life," truth seeker. Without a legitimate MASTER, it’s going to take you a lifetime for that realization to travel from your toes to your brain.

A MASTER is someone who actually understands the "controller." You aren't going to find that guidance from some guru like J. Krishnamurti, and you certainly won't find it by stumbling around blindly on your own.

Setting aside your invisible friend and that Eastern psychopathology regarding an obsession with authority, tell me: what does meditation actually mean to you?

To Chinese song suggests to me that axis mundi is wherever you happen to be. There is nothing unspeakable about it.

mistybison said:Isn't that just another concept we cling to, one that merely gives us the illusion of mental freedom? It certainly feels more comfortable to believe the entire universe reshaped itself for our benefit, making us unique stars in an infinite expanse. It’s much easier than believing in concepts like inherent flaw, life as suffering, or divine judgment after death. But isn't that just another modern idea adopted by today's logical skeptic? Perhaps people embrace these notions just to navigate a life defined by transience and lack of meaning. Could the very act of clinging to such an idea be, in its essence, the ultimate form of non-attachment?

I am not entirely certain I grasp the core of your question, so what follows may miss your mark. Meaninglessness isn't a theory; it is an observation. Life moves forward regardless of our opinions or the meaning we attempt to assign to it. Birth, death, birth, death... it has always been this way. 🙂

Transience causes sorrow in the human heart, which is perfectly natural. When you claim it isn't normal, you are merely attempting to escape into the arms of some perceived purpose. Purpose is a self-delusion designed to make an inevitable grief easier to bear. It is a story we tell ourselves while keeping our eyes closed to avoid looking at the reality around us. That is my perspective.

Non-attachment does not reside in an idea; it occurs when there are no ideas left.

casualmoose82 said:@Edward Flores4, look, when you quote someone, just quote the whole thing instead of cherry-picking bits out of context. And calling me schizophrenic? Honestly, you'll have to answer for that—not to me, and not even to God, however you view Him—but to yourself. I guess all that outside knowledge you've gathered, whatever form it takes, is useful and might actually help you on your Path. That’s basically what freedom of choice is about. As for whether the soul and body are one and the same, that’s your own mental construct; I wouldn't even bother commenting on it, I'll just say—it's your call.

A wise person knows better than to judge others, because in doing so, they've already judged themselves....

What does "judging" mean to you specifically, and why is self-condemnation considered a negative outcome? How exactly is it harmful?

How can you say that? 😉 Those who view life as a burden feel an inherent need to be liberated from it. Most holy books conveniently manufacture a crisis at the beginning just so they can offer a solution at the end, convincing you that it's exactly what you need.

ironharbor8 said:Enchantress, excellent topic. :-)

If memory serves, Buddha once noted that life is suffering. To eliminate suffering—to achieve liberation—would logically imply eliminating life itself.

I see a few ways this could play out. One method, as someone else pointed out earlier, involves the only philosophical question left worth asking: to be or not to be? However, that isn't a particularly practical solution; if reincarnation is a thing, you simply find yourself back in some other space at some point, starting the cycle all over again. That leaves only one option: discarding life by refusing to let it touch you. Not participating. Becoming a mere observer who remains untouched. A state of total indifference. A silent witness, an invisible presence.

You participate in life only as much as necessary, but you stop expecting, longing, grieving, or celebrating based on external circumstances. You simply exist, having realized the transience and futility of all existence.

From my current perspective, everything is meaningless, fleeting, chaotic, and ultimately absurd. There is no karma, no soul evolution, no spiritual growth—just more childish theories that no longer hold water. They aren't even logically consistent. Consequently, I have temporarily concluded that it is all nonsense. Life is merely a passing whim, like a soap bubble catching the sunlight, creating a deceptive illusion of importance, being, and beauty when, in reality, there is nothing there.

My only regret is this nagging feeling that taking one's own life is somehow wrong; instead, one must wait for the candle to burn down naturally. It is this singular sensation that keeps me here; otherwise, I would have long since departed from this whimsical planet of absurdity.

It seems to me that the greatest obstacle to achieving this state of the untouchable observer is the very instinct for life—the urge to experience and participate. In truth, true existence stands in direct opposition to the desire to live and feel.

Likely, behind all of this sits someone heartless with a terrible sense of humor, laughing at our failed attempts to grasp meaning through intellect.

"Weary of it all, I cry out for the death of stillness."

What was the point of all those eons of evolution if we are just meant to be stones? One can breathe deeply and still remain unattached, refusing to be swept up by existence. Perhaps the secret to non-attachment lies precisely in the absurdity of it all—living simply for the sake of living, rather than chasing some grand purpose.

As for sadness, it is an inevitability in this temporal realm we inhabit. It is perfectly natural to feel sorrow when loss is baked into our daily reality, where one life is built upon the passing of another. Rather than fleeing from it, one should simply come to terms with it.

Edward Flores4 said:Well, if they truly needed it, they probably wouldn't be the type of people to have it in the first place—and that’s kind of the beauty of humility. It isn't something forced upon anyone; we can all live without it if we choose... but on the flip side, it’s a tool that serves anyone willing to embrace it. And embracing something is, by definition, a choice—something we can do, but aren't obligated to do.

What I’m trying to get at is that humility forced by authority or social pressure isn't actually humility at all—it's just submission. Real humility is always, exclusively, a result of one's own free will and personal choice. It's not something you "catch" on a crowded subway like a common cold.

Anyone who understands this also tends to see the next part of the puzzle. Humility isn't just for those who explicitly refuse to be humble—which is usually the crowd whose main interest is keeping others submissive. These are the folks who mistake their own lack of humility for simply being "subordinate" to someone else.

No matter how much they hide behind clever wordplay, fake motives, or the shield of political correctness, it's pretty obvious they still don't get it: true "control" only exists when there is nothing left to control. These types feel this desperate need to manage everything—starting with their own lives and then moving on to policing everyone else's opinions. Every sentence they utter feels like a calculated attempt to pose as "the one who holds the truth." They rarely care about whether what they're saying is actually productive; instead, they're constantly preoccupied with maintaining a facade that masks their own personal ambitions and shortcomings.

But then again... those who have embraced humility actually end up depending on the ones who refuse to. In a strange way, the non-humble are an essential part of the humble's existence—otherwise, everything would just be the same, or rather, everything would feel completely meaningless. Paradoxically, the arrogant are a built-in component of the humble lifestyle, except for the fact that they aren't even aware of it, so they spend all their energy trying to prove how important they are to everyone else. The tragedy is that they are essentially victims of their own judgment and their refusal to accept who they really are. And the even bigger tragedy? A world without them would be a genuine, profound tragedy. This is where true empathy is actually "born"—true & unconditional compassion that arises from actual understanding, rather than being some hollow ideological concept taught to us by some guru, a Buddha, or whoever else.

Anyway. Thanks for such an interesting comment—it really inspired me to dig a little deeper into the concept of humility, which is clearly another indispensable ingredient for living a quality, meditative life.

A sharp observation. Love and compassion are outcomes of understanding, not the starting line as many people suggest. I've always found this specific cognitive direction fascinating; when perspectives are diametrically opposed, discussions usually fall apart and the interlocutor ends up blocked.🙂

There is a point where nothing lasts forever.

The inevitable question is: at what exact moment does the current state freeze and eternity begin? How long does one continue to age before finally stepping into the eternal? People usually indulge in these thoughts when they are in their prime—healthy 20-somethings fantasizing about immortality. Now, imagine being 80 years old, frail and ailing, yet forced to live forever. A total DISASTER. Personally, I think it's a terrible idea.

wiredbear2 said:Are you referring to Pauline Christianity?

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.

Indeed.

wiredbear2 said:Are you referring to Pauline Christianity?

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.

It sometimes feels as though the stories themselves forget the very people who interpret and embody such ideas. In my view, Buddhism was an excellent concept that humanity simply turned into a circus.

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.
😉

They amuse me sincerely as well. I am quite grateful for them, as I wouldn't be here without them. 😉

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.
😉

A dangerous mantra. One might even call it a boundary that won't be easily crossed.

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.
😉

Žižek stuck strictly to his field when referencing the overt support for aggression where Chinese children were literally thrown into the air to meet Japanese bayonets, all while receiving the blessing of those wonderful people whose only arguments for existence are universal love and interpersonal tolerance—people for whom Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism, or any other religious or spiritual path is merely a JOB. God save me from such people.

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.
😉

Defending D. T. Suzuki's work so vigorously is unnecessary; his influence on spreading Zen among women in the West is indisputable and obvious to anyone who has read his work.

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.
😉

Now, just ask yourself: what is the point of all this? If you can actually provide a sincere answer to that question, then your place is definitely in the temple.

wiredbear2 said:The desire to practice non-action often leads to a complete halt in activity.

But I don't see it as mere passivity, because to me, passivity feels like a void where action used to be, whereas Zen is a distinct state of being...

Zen is, at its heart, conscious non-action. It is essentially one vast, profound Nothingness...

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. 🙂

bluemason3 said:But then again, most monks in a Zen monastery spend the vast majority of their time just sitting and meditating. Though, I suppose we Americans clearly know better than they do.😁

Indeed. Once they recover, they simply get up and leave the monastery. Since the recovery rate is relatively low, most people stay seated, which gives a superficial observer in the West the illusion of a "normal" state.

bluemason3 said:I guess that’s why Zen practitioners spend most of their day meditating.😁
Fair point, though. They didn't really get it. It wasn't until Americans picked up a few books like *Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance* that we finally realized what Zen actually is.😁

Someone sits, someone walks, someone carves, paints, plays music, or acts... all of it is meditation. Practicing meditation is simply living your life; there is no need to emphasize it, unless you are trying to hide the fact that you spend most of your time living someone else's life and only carve out a little time for yourself.

When you open your eyes in the morning, you practically have to exert effort just to separate meditation from your daily routine—not to mention the likelihood of forgetting to do it altogether. It's an exercise in futility, if you ask me.

amberbadger8 said:That’s true, but let's not go to extremes here. Everything is interconnected. Even stripping away personal issues has everything to do with Zen... ultimately.
But fine... I get what you're getting at.

Eliminating personal problems—which, if you simply remove the individual, the problems vanish since the person *is* the problem—has everything to do with satori, healing, enlightenment, or self-actualization. Call it whatever you like, but it isn't about Zen.🙂

Nathan Walker16 said:

Every single martial art is essentially just the unification of mind and body. Honestly, even slicing vegetables for dinner falls under that umbrella. Even sweeping a floor can be an act involving Ki, because when you're alive, there's really no escaping that connection.

I mean, have you ever actually heard someone bring up the whole "unification of mind and body" concept during a standard Karate class, or maybe while training in Kickboxing, Jiu-Jitsu, Boxing, or Judo? It’s rarely discussed in those circles.

And look, sweeping a floor *can* be done with a massive amount of Ki, sure, but it can also be done with almost none at all; people with barely any Ki to speak of can still sweep a floor just fine.

Morihei Ueshiba once said, "Get to know your breath, and you will know yourself."
Breath is the fundamental bridge between our physical form and our spirit; by focusing on your breathing—not just through formal exercise—you eventually achieve that true union of body and mind.

Yes, that is exactly what people who aren't trying too hard to sound "cool" call Psychoactive. Nothing fancy, nothing out of the ordinary.

Nathan Walker16 said:

Every single martial art is essentially just the unification of mind and body. Honestly, even slicing vegetables for dinner falls under that umbrella. Even sweeping a floor can be an act involving Ki, because when you're alive, there's really no escaping that connection.

I mean, have you ever actually heard someone bring up the whole "unification of mind and body" concept during a standard Karate class, or maybe while training in Kickboxing, Jiu-Jitsu, Boxing, or Judo? It’s rarely discussed in those circles.

And look, sweeping a floor *can* be done with a massive amount of Ki, sure, but it can also be done with almost none at all; people with barely any Ki to speak of can still sweep a floor just fine.

Morihei Ueshiba once said, "Get to know your breath, and you will know yourself."
Breath is the fundamental bridge between our physical form and our spirit; by focusing on your breathing—not just through formal exercise—you eventually achieve that true union of body and mind.

There is no such thing as strong or weak Aikido. There is only Aikido. You can see how this rhetoric is designed solely to divide people—creating an artificial hierarchy between those with "more" and those with "less"—rather than fostering unity. That isn't the spirit of the art, and it's transparently disingenuous.

Nathan Walker16 said:

Every single martial art is essentially just the unification of mind and body. Honestly, even slicing vegetables for dinner falls under that umbrella. Even sweeping a floor can be an act involving Ki, because when you're alive, there's really no escaping that connection.

I mean, have you ever actually heard someone bring up the whole "unification of mind and body" concept during a standard Karate class, or maybe while training in Kickboxing, Jiu-Jitsu, Boxing, or Judo? It’s rarely discussed in those circles.

And look, sweeping a floor *can* be done with a massive amount of Ki, sure, but it can also be done with almost none at all; people with barely any Ki to speak of can still sweep a floor just fine.

Morihei Ueshiba once said, "Get to know your breath, and you will know yourself."
Breath is the fundamental bridge between our physical form and our spirit; by focusing on your breathing—not just through formal exercise—you eventually achieve that true union of body and mind.

Did someone forget to teach you how to breathe? I assume you mastered that spontaneous reflex with your very first breath. There are endless theories regarding processes that are entirely instinctive simply because they *can* be voluntary. Your cells know exactly how much oxygen they need for oxidation; try not to overthink it. 😉

Robin Rodriguez5 said:Good grief.🙄
Tohei was the premier Ueshiba-esque student and, as far as I know, the only one Ueshiba personally awarded a 10th Dan. After Ueshiba passed away, the leadership of Judo shifted toward his son for traditional reasons (even though he held a lower rank than Tohei). Since Tohei refused to take instruction from someone ranked below him, he "created" his own style, which leaned much harder into the spiritual side and dialed back the combat aspect. Look, after Ueshiba died, Tohei was the most senior living master of Judo on the planet. If anyone was meant to carry the torch, it was him. Calling him a cult leader is tragicomic—who exactly did he split from? Someone who was significantly less skilled than he was?

History is full of examples where a skill, faith, or body of knowledge is passed down to a son, regardless of whether his rank justifies it. We see similar dynamics in many major religions.

There is no need for sarcasm; forming sects is perfectly standard in Japan. The debate over which group holds more weight was settled long ago in the aikido discussions, and I believe everything worth saying has already been said.

iznenad84 said:Of course you can achieve Zen by sweeping floors, laying bricks, or whatever else you choose. Have you actually tried that? Did you manage to solve all your desires—everything you love or hate—simply by doing masonry work?

Zen isn't something you "achieve."

casualtiger2 said:jademarlin26
You seem quite fond of that "cult" label; you tend to slap it onto almost every individual or group mentioned in these posts.
Now it is Ki Aikido's turn. Are you doing this just to stir up the discussion?

Are you bothered by cults or medical diagnoses? What exactly is your problem?
I don't hold any particular grudge against the term "sect," and I actually enjoy using it. As for my affiliations, you should have realized by now that I think for myself—and people who think for themselves don't belong to sects.

casualtiger2 said:Technically, Ki Aikido is already established—not to mention the existence of AI-KI-kai Aikido—but from my observations, and as Paul Campbell3 confirms, it is entirely possible to practice Aikido for years without ever truly scratching the surface.

The Aikikai serves as the governing body. What is taught at the Hamburg dojo isn't referred to as Aikikai Aikido, but simply as Aikikai.

When people talk about surface scraping, you have to ask yourself who actually needs that kind of superficiality. Spiritualists, I assume? Those who would rather lecture than break a sweat during training? Most people lack even a basic grasp of physics or psychomotor skills, yet they love to fantasize about extending Ki. They couldn't execute a simple tenkan, let alone attempt throws without physical contact. For a horse and rider to become one, it requires years of riding, raw talent, deep understanding, and genuine respect. What Ueshiba achieved was something only he could accomplish.

casualtiger2 said:jademarlin26,
you guys seem way too obsessed with the word "sectarian"—you practically slap that label on every single person or group in almost every post.
Now it's Ki Aikido's turn. Is this just your way of stirring the pot?!
(It's tempting to ask, "So, which sect do you belong to?" 😁, but we actually have a specific thread for all that sectarian nonsense!)

Technically, Ki is already baked into Aikido (though Ai-Ki-Kai exists), but from what I've seen—and Paul Campbell3 confirms this—it’s entirely possible to train Aikido for years without ever actually "scratching beneath the surface."
A lot of it ends up being nothing more than simple levers, wrist twists, and basic mechanics.

I first ran into Aikido back in New York City, over twenty-five years ago. There were about ten black belts there who had been training for 10–15 years—mostly under L. Vracar (who was apparently the big shot in the US and did a lot to push the sports side of Aikido in the States)—but they actually gave up those black belts when they met a Ki Aikido instructor and started a new club. So, my very first real encounter was actually with Ki Aikido. After a few months, they started demonstrating what they used to practice, and the difference was night and day.
Regardless, with 8 to 10 instructors for maybe 15 or 20 students, I definitely learned more in those few months than I would have training somewhere else for years.
From the very first sessions, they insisted on proper (stable) sitting, walking, and applying the four principles: maintaining center, dynamic relaxation, dropping weight, and the flow of Ki.
We'd start Aikido training with a brief breathing meditation. Then the instructor would move from person to person, checking our posture—pushing us back, to the side, or pulling us. If you tried to counter them—whether consciously or not—you'd go down like a sack of potatoes. It wasn't until you actually found your center and anchored yourself in it that it became hard to knock you off balance.
Around that same time, I was starting Hatha Yoga, so I was already working on relaxation.
However, in that yoga relaxation, there was no energy flow; my arms felt like limp rags. Through Aikido, I finally saw the distinction between passive and dynamic relaxation.
Almost every training session, you could feel that Ki flow (something I haven't really experienced in other schools or with different teachers, or at least very little), and it was fascinating to see how a technique would "work" or "fail" depending on whether you were forcing it or actually following the energy flows. Even after class, I’d feel this tingling sensation through my body and a pleasant sense of relaxation, kind of like the feeling after a hot shower.

The original Aikido taught by Ueshiba is naturally modified by the character—both physical and mental—of his students, and their students' students.
There's no reason to label any of these variations as "wrong" or "sectarian."
The beauty of Aikido lies in its openness to life, the freedom of movement, improvisation, acting in the moment, creativity, and exploration... there is plenty of room for discussion here, rather than wasting time on dogmatic wars and criticizing schools just because they aren't the ones we know.
You can find a little history and an overview of various Aikido styles (sadly in English)
right here. As Paul Campbell3 already pointed out—and because this topic falls under spirituality regardless of who we train with (which is a great part of Aikido, the partnership and the sense of community that connects people worldwide)—at the end of the day, it's all about us.
PS
I have to admit, while I'm mopping the floor, I don't quite achieve that same union of mind and body or that Ki flow I get from Aikido or meditation.
I guess that only comes at higher levels (though, honestly, when I'm peeling potatoes, I get pretty close to a meditative state 🙂).

Either you fail to feel it in one, or you fail to feel it in the other; either way, you're just going through the motions.