A small dolmen in a park in Copenhagen. |
In this
week we have seen two events that might in the future be seen as
small way markers along the path in the direction we are heading. The
first one, close to home, was the sudden bankruptcy and cessation of
Denmark's de facto national airline Cimber Sterling. The news, when
it appeared on Thursday morning, came like a small black swan (let's
call it a black duck) and shocked passengers at the airport were duly
interviewed, with most of them standing forlornly beside their
luggage with 'what am I supposed to do now?' attitudes.
The second
event was on the other side of the world in Japan where it has been
reported that the last of the country's 50 nuclear reactors has now
been taken offline, with no realistic prospect of being reconnected
in a country still dealing with the legacy of the meltdown at
Fukushima. Plan B, as far as the Japanese are concerned, involves
importing huge amounts of oil and gas to make up for the electricity
shortfall. This can hardly be seen as a long term strategy for any
number of reasons and is a timely reminder that our menu of energy
options boils down to no more than a few dishes of the day.
If, like
me, you regard events such as these as ever-mounting evidence of a
growing crisis in the industrial world for which we are wholly
unprepared, then the next logical step would seemingly be to prepare
ourselves for the inevitable. Using the analogy of a large ship that
is sailing towards an iceberg, we can either don our life jackets and
stand ready by the lifeboats (having failed to convince the captain
of the danger), or else pretend not to see the clearly visible
icebergs looming in our path and instead carry on knocking back
tequilas at the bar six decks below. Such measures, in the real
world, might involve building as many useful skills as possible in
order that we are not totally caught short when delicate supply
chains shatter, or building greater community bonds so that you can
take advantage of the division of labour when the energy slaves
suddenly perish. There are certain practical things that you can do
as well to ensure a relative degree of comfort for yourself and your
family, such as planting a garden and insulating your house.
All of the
above could be considered wise moves for those who, as Dmitry Orlov
puts is, are not interested in sitting in the dark wearing dirty
clothes wondering what went wrong. But taking the whole thing a stage
further than the merely practical we could do ourselves a favour and
build some resilience into our attitudes and the way we think about
things and relate to the world. This makes sense from several
perspectives. A problem, unless it is life threatening, is accorded a
severity based on our perception of how serious it is. And in an age
when problems are rushing towards us like an army of orcs in a Lord
of the Rings movie, it would seem only prudent to adopt as many forms
of defence against them as it is possible to muster.
It was
with this in mind that I recently read a copy of John Michael Greer's
latest book Mystery Teachings from the Living Earth. Now, I'm
not going to say that this is a book review because a) I'm not at all
qualified to review such a book and b) It could never be because to
review a book you must at least maintain a façade of detached
objectivity and anyone who has read this blog would simply not
believe me if claimed that to be so. Furthermore, the book is
primarily concerned with the mystery teachings, which have been
studied and practised by mankind down the ages, and as such they
can't be 'analysed' as such in a purely intellectual manner. So,
instead, 'll just say what the book is about and what I got from it.
My
background is about as non-spiritual as the next average Joe. I
wasn't raised as a Christian or a Jew or a Muslim. I wasn't even
raised as an atheist, and can probably count on the fingers of both
feet the number of times I have ever been in a church that wasn't a
school trip, a funeral or a wedding. In fact, like the overwhelming
majority of people in the UK, I was raised as a kind religion-less
materialist and the only kind of salvation or goal worthy of pursuing
that was ever suggested to me was to 'make it' in the City or
somewhere.
Nevertheless,
I wasn't entirely without the feeling that there must be more to life
than two flat dimensions and I do remember at an early age having a
strong feeling that purpose of life must be to gaze in awe at the
wonders of the universe. If that sound pretentious, I'm sorry, but
it's the only way I can describe it. I'm not sure where that feeling
came from, but it could have had something to do with my mother, who
was a quiet spiritualist with a firm conviction of there being
'something more' based on an out-of-body experience she had had a
small girl when she had 'died' from middle ear disease and was able
to watch her sobbing parents and the frantic doctor from somewhere up
near the ceiling. This must have struck a chord with me and a latent
spirituality manifested itself in me around the age of 30 when,
having read practically everything Alan Watts had ever written, I
found myself drifting towards Buddhism. But any progress on my path
to Nirvana was halted when I met a visiting lama in Copenhagen and
was revolted by the sycophancy of his acolytes and their 'holier than
thou' attitude. Buddhism, it suddenly seemed, was all about amassing
karma by giving silk scarves to important people and elbowing others
out of your way to do so.
Nevertheless,
there were many good and useful things in Buddhism that have stayed
with me and one of them is the idea that true transformation comes
from within – and that this requires a lot of work. This, it turns
out, is one of the core messages of the mystery teachings, and John
Michael Greer explains their Seven Laws using the language of the
science of ecology. By doing so he is repeating a tradition of
presenting their teachings in a language that people in the modern
age can understand. In ancient Greece, Plato taught them using the
language of geometry, which was the hip science of the age back then,
so Greer is translating them to language that we can readily
understand.
Greer is
also interested in correcting what he sees as a gaudy
over-commercialised and watered down version of the mystery teachings
and spiritualism in general that has mushroomed in recent decades,
taking particular issue with the idea that positive thinking can make
you financially rich and/or have any other effect in the material
world of our everyday lives. Similarly, he is not impressed by any
New Age 'airy fairy' insistence that we are all heading into a new
Age of Aquarius via some form of apocalypse or rapture or mass
rebirth of consciousness. The kind of transformation he has in mind
requires a lot of practice and is hard work but ultimately much more
rewarding.
The book
is split into two sections with the first being an explanation of the
Seven Laws of the mystery teachings explained through the language of
ecology and the second being about how to use these teachings in your
everyday life as a kind of psychic defence against the kinds of
predicaments I mentioned above and a way of making sense of the
universe on a level deeper than a purely intellectually rationalising
basis. At the end of each section is a meditation exercise, an
affirmation and a theme for reflection.
The Seven
Laws are explained at some length, each with the analogy of a meadow
with its various populations of field mice, snakes, birds of prey and
plant species. They are set out as follows – with the explanation
of each being taken directly from the book:
1 – The
Law of Wholeness. Everything that exists is part of a whole system
and depends on the health of the whole system for its own existence.
It thrives only if the whole system thrives and it cannot harm the
whole system without harming itself.
2 – The
Law of Flow. Everything that exists is created and sustained by
flows of matter, energy and information that come from the whole
system to which it belongs and that return to the whole system.
Participating in these flows, without interfering with them, brings
health and wholeness; blocking them, in an attempt to turn flows into
accumulations, causes suffering and disruption to the whole system
and all its parts.
3 – The
Law of Balance. Everything that exists can continue to exist only
by being in balance with itself, with other things, and with the
whole system of which it is a part. That balance is not found by
going to one extreme or the other way by remaining fixed at a static
point; it is created by self-correcting movements to either side of a
midpoint.
4 – The
Law of Limits. Everything that exists is subject to limits arising
from its own nature, the nature of the whole system of which it is a
part, and the nature of existence itself. Those limits are as
necessary as they are inescapable, and they provide the foundation
for all the beauty and power each existing thing is capable of
manifesting.
5 – The
Law of Cause and Effect. Everything that exists is the effect of
causes at work in the whole system of which each thing is a part, and
everything becomes, in turn, the cause of effects elsewhere in the
whole system. In these workings of cause and effect, there must
always be a similarity of kind between an effect and at least one of
its causes, just as there must be a similarity of scale between an
effect and the sum total of its causes.
6 – The
Law of the Planes. Everything in existence exists and functions on
one of several planes of being or is composed of things from more
than one plane acting together as a whole system. These planes are
discrete, not continuous, and the passage of influences from one
plane to another can take place only under conditions defined by the
relationship of the planes involved.
7 – The
Law of Evolution. Everything that exists comes into being by a
process of evolution. That process starts with adaption to changing
conditions and ends with the establishment of a steady state of
balance with its surroundings, following a threefold rhythm of
challenge, response and reintegration. Evolution is gradual rather
than sudden, and it works by increasing diversity and accumulating
possibilities, rather than following a predetermined line of
development.
Most of
the above laws are easy enough to understand on a purely rational
level for someone versed with popular science, with only the Law of
Planes requiring some deep reflection to get grasp of. But the one
perhaps of most interest unlocking the key of how to thrive (and I
use that word cautiously …) in an age of industrial crises is the
Law of Limits. This asserts that beauty and creativity can only flow
when some concrete limit is placed on something. Given that
everything has a concrete limit placed on it – but that modern
though insists that this is otherwise – recognition of this fact
allows for a blossoming of possibilities. Music is better when
performed within the conventional limits of keys and scales placed on
it, as is art. The implication is that life lived with the
recognition of hard limits is in fact the opposite of restricting,
and an acknowledgement of that fact opens up numerous possibilities.
The latter
sections of the book deal with how to use the teachings in your own
life and Greer admits that the book is not a definitive look at the
mystery schools, but is more like a tempting morsel of bait that
might attract those who are predisposed to study the teachings in
greater depth to seek out their own mystery school teacher. As such
it provided me with a great deal of insight into the nature of the
disastrous ways in which industrial civilization has backed us into
our current predicament and, more importantly, ways in which we can
align ourselves better for a future more harmoniously in line with
the natural systems that birthed us and of which we are a part of.
I'd highly recommend the book to anyone with an even half-open mind
to the idea that there might be something more to the universe than a
great cosmic atomic game of billiards. What's more it is also an
important addition to arsenal of anyone who considers that ecology
matters in the ongoing fight to convince others that what we do to
the environment we do to ourselves.
I have most of Alan Watt's books too, and I feel similarly about Buddhism, that it is a kind of spiritual nihilism denigrating the material, like most of humanity's output the last 5,000 years, overly flavored by the paternalistic. I just ordered Greer's book, and should be reading it this week.
ReplyDeleteThe signs are all around us, the unraveling of everything we have come to take for granted. I'm hoping to retrofit my house before winter, but I might lose it too. A curious life, this. Surrendering to the flow of universal processes is one of the hardest things there is to do.
www.offthegridmpls.blogspot.com
Well, I hope you don't lose the house. Given that you've done so much work on it I'd reckon it is worth fighting for.
DeleteJapan is an energy guzzling society that pretends to care for the environment. They're really big on "bring your own bag" to the grocery stores, which conveniently saves the cost of providing plastic bags to customers, meanwhile their meat consumption, the production of which is horrid to the environment, is rapidly increasingly (put all that red meat in your reusable bag!). They also have a mind boggling number of vending machines and other energy wasting and completely unnecessary electrical gizmos.
ReplyDeleteSo they citizenry are happy to do away with nuclear energy, but fail to realize they can't have their cake and eat it too without reducing consumption of everything if they want to avoid higher oil imports. In Japan though the major commercial enterprises control the populace and they won't have any serious reduction of consumption.
Buddhism is a mixed bag, and I say this as a professional translator of Buddhist texts in Taiwan with a MA in the subject and many many long hours on meditation cushions. On the popular level you get something like "cultural Buddhism" which is just all the traditions and customs that come with a long-standing Buddhist tradition in a society. The practices are seen as a "sea of merit" from which you gain luck for worldly endeavours. This is why Thailand, a Buddhist nation, also hosts a huge meat market of exploited prostitutes while also having a massive sangha of renunciate monks. Feeding the monks erases the negative karma of dodgy behaviours.
But it isn't all so contradictory. Personally I filter out a lot of nonsense and see the cultural manifestations for what they are. I'm not a revisionist either, because a lot of eminent natives of Buddhist cultures suggest doing the same.