So, I finally sat down and listened to "Waiting for The Moon"!! It’s actually not bad—not exactly an instant earworm, but it definitely sticks with you...
Those songs just kind of melt into your brain... shadowgardener12, what's the damage for the full set?
jurislav said:Well, look—it’s not like there isn't a silver lining to be found somewhere in all this, I suppose—but when it comes to the one thing that actually matters, it's pretty much useless.
I honestly feel like we're all just spinning our wheels here—it seems like a massive waste of precious time.👎
You know how the saying goes—don't go judging a horse you've never actually sat a saddle on. Well, honestly—this whole obsession with what’s "most important" and all this talk about "wasting precious time"—it kind of reminds me of Gollum’s little "my precious" lamentations, if you catch my drift. Gollum Oh, Smeagol. 😁 😁 😁 😁
And that, I suppose, is exactly where you find the internal struggle within Paul himself—that constant tug-of-war between his earthly nature and his higher, more spiritual self.
If a person truly understands what matters most—if they actually grasp their priorities when it comes to chasing that one essential thing—then everything else naturally falls into place around it. In that mindset, no experience along the way is ever a waste of precious time. Not even practicing Aikido. Every single thing you go through becomes a stepping stone toward winning that internal battle against yourself, helping you overcome the distractions of this earthly life. And honestly, isn't that basically the whole point for any Christian?
If a person’s mind is a complete mess—just constantly wrestling with physical limitations and all those nagging demands the body places on us—how is the spirit actually supposed to break free? I mean, if you're stuck dealing with the constant noise of physicality and its endless restrictions, where does that leave the soul? It seems like a bit of a catch-22, doesn't it? Isn't our body supposed to be a temple for the spirit—a literal temple for God? Isn't it basically our responsibility to keep God's temple clean and in good shape?
So, if you're actually looking to end up looking as heroic and well-put-together as Aragorn—and let's be honest, we all want that—then I guess you should probably just start training Aikido. 😉
Hey, for anyone interested, I train at the Aikido Association of Greater Los Angeles.
The sessions take place over at the University of Southern California School of Kinesiology in the Judo hall—and they’re actually starting up a beginner course pretty soon. So, look, if you're one of those people who feels the need to test out your life philosophies, religious views, or spiritual stances through endless little arguments on internet forums, you can finally do it in person. It might be more productive to face some actual human beings—real people made of flesh and bone, rather than just digital avatars—while being full of love for your fellow man. Or something like that.
I'll probably drop other links here whenever I stumble upon something interesting:
Aikido: Aikido Association of Greater Los Angeles Donat Aikido Club
John Walker74 said:I’ve been thinking about yoga lately... a friend mentioned to me that judo is just too complicated—that it takes an eternity to actually master it. Though, I’m not entirely sure if mastering is quite the right word here. I suppose I’d say distilling* is more accurate; using distillation as a way to express myself in the simplest possible terms, both outwardly and inwardly. *distillation = hygiene
Well, you could say judo is basically Japanese yoga... the elements of breathing and energy exercises are pretty much identical. As for the whole "complexity" issue, I'd argue the art is only as complicated as the practitioner themselves. Not any more, not any less. It acts as a mirror for the student—it functions essentially as a tool for self-discovery. All truly profound things are simple, and judo is both simple and spontaneous. There isn't a single technique in there that relies on brute force or sheer physical dominance. (Man, if only you could have seen the look on my wife's face when she realized that I—a 220-pound guy made of pure muscle—could be tossed across the gym floor or used to mop the floors by her 😲), it doesn't require massive effort or intense strain. It’s suitable for everyone, from age 7 to 77, and it naturally adapts itself to whatever individual capacity someone has.
Jesus spoke about this: Love your neighbor as yourself. In Judo, you don't actually defeat an opponent. There isn't really a desire for victory or some need to overpower someone else. If we aren't completely emptied of everything—including that specific urge to win—then I guess we aren't truly capable of executing a technique correctly. When a technique is performed properly, there is no "I." There isn't even a conflict, because there's no mechanism of action and reaction occurring between two separate egos. In Judo, the opponent's own energy is either redirected back at them or diverted until it simply dissipates. According to Morihei Ueshiba—regardless of how watered down and hollow that sentiment might sound these days—Judo is essentially the way of love for one's neighbor. If you engage in a conflict, you're basically committing your own energy to the fray.
here’s a little more Taoism, chapter 5.
Nature acts without intent, so cannot be described as acting with benevolence, nor malevolence to any thing. In this respect, the Tao is just the same, though in reality it should be said that nature follows the rule of Tao. Therefore, even when he seems to act in manner kind or benevolent, the sage is not acting with such intent, for in conscious matters such as these, he is amoral and indifferent. The sage retains tranquility, and is not by speech or thought disturbed, and even less by action which is contrived. His actions are spontaneous, as are his deeds towards his fellow men.
By this means he is empty of desire, and his energy is not drained from him.
John Walker74, haha, I actually used to train in full contact too.
John Walker74 said:"Would I be being pretentious if I said I've had many opportunities to experience this in my Mind, but far fewer in my Body—which is exactly why I'm looking for something like this." I think you probably get what I mean.
That’s actually the exact reason I ended up walking away from Judo. There was just this massive gap between my thoughts, my words, and... well, my actions. And at the end of the day, people are judged by what they do, not by the uniform they wear. In Judo, you supposedly achieve this balance by mixing static stuff (like the "seiza" sitting position) with dynamic drills (the actual techniques). The idea behind the term "Aiki" is basically trying to sync your own movement and energy with your partner's—whether that's a training buddy or some guy actually attacking you. There's this old hermetic axiom about how there's no such thing as empty space. The transfer between two partners—two little microcosms, I guess—happens within a sort of magnetic field created by them, plus that weird "in-between" space. Over time, a practitioner is supposed to realize you can't pull off a technique properly unless you've unified your mind and body first. You have to bring them into harmony with the universe's Ki so that the Ki can flow through you without hitting any roadblocks. When that happens, you're meant to lose that sense of "self" entirely, and your perception expands to include the very space between you and your partner.
The Tao Te Ching touches on this:
Yield, and maintain integrity. To bend is to be upright; to be empty is to be full. Those who have little have much to gain, but those who have much may be confused by possessions. The wise man embraces the all encompassing; he is unaware of himself, and so has brilliance; not defending himself, he gains distinction; not seeking fame, he receives recognition; not making false claims, he does not falter; and not being quarrelsome, is in conflict with no one. This is why it was said by the sages of old, "Yield, and maintain integrity; be whole, and all things come to you".
When you watch someone practicing judo, it’s almost impossible not to get the impression that the man or woman is simply dancing with their attacker or partner. (Since judo is a defensive art, they don't actually teach offensive techniques.)
The whole simplified concept of KI—which we inherited from Morihei Ueshiba—basically boils down to the idea that there is a single energy (KI) permeating the entire universe, and by extension, every human being. However, while this energy flows without any friction in nature—in plants and animals, for instance—it is noticeably disrupted in most people. There are certain ways to return a person to alignment with the entire universe, following that Hermetic axiom where as above, so below, based on the relationship between the human microcosm and the macrocosm.
This realignment with nature happens through spiral movements during what one might call a "fight"—though in judo, there isn't really a fight, just an eternal process of learning and transfer between two partners, or two microcosms—which follow the helical paths of the Spirit descending into this physical realm. Achieving alignment with these paths results in harmony with the universe. A harmony between the microcosm and the macrocosm. It's essentially the same thing as when Rumi and the Sufis perform their mystical dance, the Sem. Through that circular motion, they break and dissolve the linearity of this world—that linearity that confuses our minds, which are already so bogged down by duality. You won't achieve true harmony with a partner or a legitimate attacker until you've first achieved that aforementioned harmony within yourself.
...It’s a Japanese art, brought into our world through Morihei Ueshiba. I suppose you could summarize the spiritual backbone of judo by looking at elements of Taoism, Chinese gnosis, Tantric Buddhism, Shintoism, and even Christian mysticism.
One of the fundamental premises of judo is the unification of mind and body. If you look at the literal meaning of the Japanese characters DO—the way, AI—to harmonize, and KI—life energy.
However, that probably isn't enough to capture the full weight of what those three characters actually signify within the Japanese language.
The character AI is relatively straightforward; it means to unite, to coordinate, to unify, or to bring into harmony.
As for the character KI—within the framework of judo theory, it roughly translates to vital or life energy. But if we look closer at Ueshiba's own teachings, we can distinguish between a lower and a higher form of KI. There is the KI that vibrates at this basic frequency, which gradually scales up toward a higher manifestation of the original microcosmic essence... In short, KI is what people in India refer to as Prana, while its higher form has been described by various traditions as divine mana descending from the heavens.
Then there is DO, which serves as the final (and arguably just as important) character. It can mean a path, a trail, a method, or a way... Even when used in a simplified sense to mean a "path" or "method"—much like you see in the works of Laozi, Confucius, and others who deal with Hermeticism or any form of gnosis...
To put it simply, the philosophy of judo could be translated as the way of harmony and alignment with the entire universe. Real judo is essentially a way to neutralize potential conflict before it even manifests. At least, that's the possibility. So, judo acts as a guide on the Way. Conflict mostly arises from within ourselves—due to a lack of alignment with the life-giving energy of the universe—which we then project onto everything around us. In many ways, judo is just as much about confronting yourself. And it offers the chance to overcome our true opponent. Ourselves. The part of us currently existing in disharmony with all of creation.
Someone who overcomes an opponent is certainly powerful. But according to ancient wisdom, the one who overcomes themselves is stronger than an entire city.
I’m honestly glad you brought this up in the spirituality section—it’s exactly where it belongs. I think I’ve touched on this somewhere else on the forum, so I might be repeating myself a bit here, but let's dive in. I won't get bogged down in specific techniques; instead, I want to talk about the various layers of spirituality that weave themselves through Aikido. Now, mind you, these are just my own subjective musings. In my opinion, the people leading the development of Aikido in this country—and they do a pretty stellar job, if you ask me—tend to shy away from empty rhetoric or getting lost in hollow philosophical debates. They prefer to live their Way through both internal reflection and the literal sweat on their brows at the dojo. Again, this is just my personal take on things.
As for everyone else, you'll likely find your own answers right where a beginner first encounters the art: in the dojo. Through the practitioners. And everything that makes up that environment: the mats, a group of students with bare feet that probably haven't seen a pedicure in months, and the instructor.
The moment you step into a dojo, you quickly realize that your "spiritual ego" is nothing more than a pile of illusions and self-deception. You find out pretty fast that you don't actually know anything, and that you aren't capable of applying a bunch of intellectual data or mystical feelings to what we call real life.
It’s a massive reality check. It basically forces you to look at your entire life philosophy under a harsh, objective light. You’re forced to confront yourself and the world around you. Your ego crashes headfirst into the reality of the dojo, which exists strictly in the HERE AND NOW. There’s no room for fluff or pretending; because even if you try to lie to others, or even if you try to lie to yourself, your body simply refuses to cooperate with the deception. It's almost like hitting a Zen master's koan wall—where your linear mind slams into your clumsy physical body, which is just blindly following along due to sheer inertia.
THOU SHALT NOT STEAL! and that primarily applies to energy parasitism at someone else's expense?
Something just occurred to me. When we're in love, are we stealing energy from that person? You know that feeling where you just look at someone and feel this rush of happiness, almost as if you're drawing strength directly from them? Even Jesus felt it when the crowd was touching him—he knew one specific woman had touched him because her intention was to take strength, healing, or love from Him. That probably would have worked even if she hadn't physically touched Him, but just thought about Him, since her faith was just that strong. My question is—is one-sided infatuation inherently bad?
👍
Exactly! I’ve actually touched on that example involving Jesus a few times here on this forum. Jesus sensed a transfer occurring at an eternal level between Himself and that woman, which resulted in her being healed from what could be called ETERNAL BLEEDING. That specific biblical passage describes "...the woman who suffered from a flow of blood." Beyond the physical body, our personality consists of subtler sub-bodies—carriers of the microcosm: the eternal, astral, and mental planes.
However, Jesus primarily taught people about "Faith," which acts as the mechanism for the transfer of "Love"—a specific high-vibration radiation used mainly for healing by addressing the root cause of "illness" at the so-called karmic level. There's even a segment in the "Our Father" prayer that speaks to this:
"...And forgive us our (karmic) debts, as we forgive our debtors (our predecessors within the microcosm)..."
since you know one of God's commandments is pretty clear:
THOU SHALT NOT STEAL! and I'm assuming that primarily applies to those little energetic parasites who live off everyone else's vibe?
Two partners can dance together in perfect harmony. A truly skilled dancer will always know how to lead their partner—even if that person doesn't have a clue what the steps are. All things of actual quality tend to be simple and entirely spontaneous. They usually manifest right at the moment when the "I"—that central ego—gets so confused... that it basically loses itself. As for the ego... "it's a murder on the dance floor..." I mean, on this world's dance floor, people kill for much less, don't they?
And once the ego is out of the picture, a certain Hermetic axiom takes over in the spiritual realm:
"Receive all, give all, and thereby renew all."
In that state, there isn't even a conversation about theft or any kind of action taken at someone else's expense. If you have enough to overflow, why would you ever need to scavenge someone else's raw energy? If you are giving something sincerely from within, nobody can take anything from you, let alone add to it.
Exactly, Betty Cooper43, taking an opponent's head off— that’s kind of the whole point, isn't it?
But I guess you have to ask yourself: who is actually your biggest adversary? If I recall correctly—I think it's somewhere in the Bible—whoever conquers another in combat is considered strong. However, anyone who masters themselves is stronger than someone who could conquer an entire fortified city.
The problem is, our egos tend to take up way too much space in our heads. The more we feed it, the more it turns the mind into this impenetrable fortress.
Every sacred text and mythological tale ever written touches on the necessity of this internal struggle. In the Bhagavad Gita, you have two armies—representing the higher and lower aspects of nature—clashing right at the start over Elephant City. They are fighting for dominance, essentially fighting for wisdom. In the Bible, Jesus overcomes this primal nature at Golgotha. John the Baptist sets the stage by saying, "He must increase, but I must decrease," and then, immediately following Solomon's Dance—well, he loses his head.
And since we’re already talking about dancing and Jesus, there's actually a Gnostic text from the Nag Hammadi collection called "Jesus' Mystical Dance."
It’s almost just like Aikidoka. They just dance...
Ha, Roger Hall15, our body is really just a temple for the Spirit.
It reacts to—and tries to align itself with—the various influences and vibrations rippling through this space-time continuum we call home. It responds to the ones that give it its physical shape and hold its energy in a state consistent with matter, but also to those on a completely different frequency along the Logos scale that makes up the Harmony of Spheres.
The Sufis say the body is a divine instrument. The alchemists and Hermeticists say the exact same thing. You can find some version of that recorded in pretty much every sacred text out there.
The body responds to all these different radiations, all these varying vibrations. Since the entire universe is in constant motion, I guess it’s only natural that we—with our own little microcosms—follow along to some degree, whether more or less. Everything around us is a dance. Everything is movement. The Shivin dance.
Maybe we could use this thread to talk about dance techniques, folk dances, body positioning in spiritual practices, the movements of warriors found in every culture, the Whirling Dervishes, eurythmy, and so on... and perhaps explore where the boundary actually lies between external movement and that internal realm where everything truly begins. Where exactly is that fine line between action and non-action?
So, within this topic, we could also discuss the nature of movement itself—how the body expresses itself within this material manifestation.
I imagine there are plenty of people here who work with the body, dance, or movement, so I’d be interested to hear their experiences.
If you follow modern dance, you might notice a trend toward minimizing movement. After decades of complex choreography that defined the last fifty years of human consciousness—shaping a postmodern society obsessed with analysis and deconstruction as scientific methods—everything seems to be circling back to Hermetic sublimation. Back to pure, simple movement. To the symbol.
In my next post, I’ll write a bit about the universal Sufi movement, better known as the Sema, performed by the "Whirling" Dervishes of the Mevlevi Order, which was established by Rumi himself.
In aikido, you don't actually defeat an opponent. When a technique is executed properly, the concept of "I" simply evaporates. There isn't even a conflict because there’s no mechanism for action and reaction between two egos. Instead, the opponent's energy is either redirected back to them or diverted until it just dissipates. According to Morihei Ueshiba—regardless of how much that sentiment might feel watered down or cliché by modern standards—aikido is essentially the Path of Loving Thy Neighbor.
Why am I rambling about this?
Through the actual practice of the technique, you quickly start to notice three distinct centers of consciousness within ourselves:
The head, the heart, and the sacral plexus... By shifting our point of awareness between these three centers, we realize just how much our sense of "self" depends on where that focus happens to be sitting. It shows how incredibly dependent and unstable our ego-consciousness really is...
Do you remember that old Greek wisdom? "Give me a firm footing, and I shall move the world." There is a specific point that allows us to shift our own little world—our *minutus mundus*—both within our earthly navigation and our celestial navigation. But let’s start by talking about shifting our tiny, fallen microcosmic world within its current material manifestation. Let's talk about moving within this deterministic, "Newtonian" universe and its corresponding frequency of Ki energy. By shifting consciousness and focusing on the so-called "hara"—the point where Ki is concentrated (located roughly 1.5 to 2 inches below the navel; you might recall the Japanese warrior ritual of discipline: "hara-ki-ri")—we find the point where we are centered, grounded, and stable. This is a stark contrast to those states where our awareness is stuck exclusively in the head, the heart, or somewhere way down below... 😉 A practitioner very quickly gains insight into their own state of being, which, due to the constant shifting between these centers and the lack of harmony among them, is usually in a state of discord.
Our centers of consciousness aren't unified or synchronized, which means our perception of everything else is partial at best. And if our perception is partial, what does that say about the world around us?
p.s.
Hmm, I’d probably write something about that other point within us—the one used to shift our world in celestial navigation—but I know a few people on this forum who react pretty negatively to both my subject matter and the length of my posts. So, if anyone is actually interested... we can discuss that other little point via email, through a PM, or, if you prefer, right here in the form of massive essays or simple Zen koans.
In aikido, you reach this state by blending static exercises (like the "seiza" sitting position) with fluid, moving techniques. Based on this, the term AIKI is often interpreted as aligning your own movements and energy with those of your partner during training—or with an actual attacker. There’s this old Hermetic axiom that suggests there is no such thing as empty space. The transfer between two partners—these two "opponents" acting as micro-cosms—happens both within the magnetic field they create together and in the interstitial space between them. Over time, I suppose, a practitioner realizes they can’t actually execute a technique properly unless they’ve first unified their mind and body, bringing them into harmony with the KI of the universe so that KI can flow through them without resistance. When that happens, you sort of lose that sense of "self," and your perception expands to encompass the entire space between the two people. In that gap, you can feel the transfer between two individuals, as well as whatever message the Universe is sending through that encounter. That message—that life lesson—can be perceived at several different levels:
At the level involving the physical body (movement), as well as the levels representing our more subtle bodies: the energetic, emotional, and mental layers, which collectively form our personality and our ego, and finally, the level concerning the transfer of a higher form of KI ("spirit"), which is the level of the Soul. Of course, that kind of transfer is only possible if the individual has developed a sufficiently strong spiritual vessel.
Regarding personality, the action itself (the transfer) begins on the mental plane—as an image or an intention—and then undergoes various transformations until it manifests as physical movement.
However, depending on where our center of consciousness currently resides, we might experience the perception, the reception, or the transfer of that action and its message differently. Someone might only feel it as a physical movement or a strike, whereas someone else might perceive the transfer as a shift in the very configuration of the space around them. (You know that slow-motion effect when bullets fly in The Matrix? Well, that’s a bit of a caricature, I guess.) The purpose of this kind of perception isn't just for combat; it applies to every aspect of life. After all, what is life if not a struggle for energy? For KI? This type of perception is essential for anyone walking the path of the warrior. John once spoke about this to a confused Castaneda, calling it "Seeing." In Gnostic Christianity, they use the term "Awakening." It’s about being HERE AND NOW, aware of the two natures within ourselves. Two parallel realities: The first concerns this world—it is relative and exists only as much as we do, meaning it depends entirely on our personal perception. There are as many parallel worlds as there are people. It is, therefore, DYNAMIC and subject to constant change.
Then there is the second: the absolute one. It is STATIC in the sense of immutable divine laws—not in terms of the physics of mechanics and their dynamics or statics, mind you. This second reality is separate from this world for one simple reason: we don't possess the apparatus to perceive it. Or rather, we *do* possess it, but that apparatus lies entirely beyond the reach of our ego-driven perception. It is our spiritual nucleus. It’s the seed of a new soul that, for most of us, remains latent or dormant. It sleeps. It’s like that "sleeping beauty" concept mentioned in ancient folklore. Because of this, it's almost impossible to even talk about a state of "Awakening."
A few times now, when various conflicts have cropped up on this forum, I've asked my interlocutors not to trip over my ego, but to pay attention to what is "written between the lines." To focus on the vital things that can be "seen" or "felt" in the seemingly empty space between our micro-cosms. Looking at the responses provided, I suspect I haven't quite been understood. But the thing is actually quite simple:
It’s an art form brought into this world by Morihei Ueshiba. If you look at the spiritual foundation of aikido, I guess you could say it’s essentially a blend of Taoist principles, Tantric Buddhism, Shintoism, and Christian mysticism.
One of the core tenets of aikido is the unification of the mind and the body. Even just looking at the literal meaning of the characters—though they aren't quite as simple as a dictionary might suggest—we have DO, which signifies the path, AI, meaning harmony or unification, and KI, representing life energy.
But honestly, those basic definitions don't really capture the full depth of what those three symbols represent in their native context.
The character for AI is relatively straightforward; it implies bringing things together, coordinating, unifying, or reaching a state of harmony.
Then there's KI. Within standard aikido theory, it’s usually described as vital or life energy, but if we dig into Morihei Ueshiba’s actual teachings, we can distinguish between a lower and a higher form of KI. There is a KI that vibrates at a certain frequency, one that gradually builds through subtle gradations toward a higher state— a primordial, microcosmic manifestation. In India, they might call this Prana, whereas some ancient traditions would describe its higher form as a divine Mana descending from the heavens.
As for DO, our final—and arguably just as important—character, it can mean a path, a way, or a method. Even when used in a simplified sense, much like how Laozi or Confucius might approach a "way," it applies to anyone delving into Hermeticism or any form of Gnosis, regardless of the specific label...
A very simplified version of the story regarding KI, inherited from Morihei Ueshiba, suggests the presence of an energy that permeates the entire universe, and by extension, every human being. However, while this flow seems to move effortlessly through nature—in plants and animals, for instance—it is noticeably disrupted in most people. The goal is to find the paths that lead a person back into alignment with the entire universe, adhering to that old Hermetic axiom: "as above, so below." It's all about that relationship between the individual microcosm and the macrocosm.
This realignment with nature happens through spiral movements during what some might call "combat"—though in aikido, there isn't really fighting, just a continuous exchange and learning process between two partners, or two microcosms. These movements follow the helical paths of the Spirit, whose ethers descend into our physical reality. Achieving harmony with these paths means achieving harmony with the universe itself—a synchronization between the microcosm and the macrocosm. It’s actually quite similar to how the Mevlevi Order performs their mystical Whirling dance. Through that circular motion, they break the linearity of this world—that linear way of thinking that leaves our dualistic minds so confused. You won't find true harmony with a partner, or even a perceived attacker, until you've first established that internal harmony within yourself.
uh, uh, uh...😕 swiftcobra15, you know what happens when women start interpreting things—each doing it their own way—your key answer to all these questions...? don't sweat it, I figure God will just scramble the languages again while building that Tower of Babel known as child-rearing... and you want to know why?
it's because God is wise and knows that old saying:
So you were thinking we shouldn't wake the kids up... is that it? Maybe you're worried they'll end up with some childhood trauma from seeing some random uncle where only a mustache peeks out from behind a suit of armor Well, honestly, you aren't going to pull the old "mustachioed knight uncles only exist in fairy tales" routine on today's generation. They aren't buying it.