Tag Archives: reading

Wolf Moon

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This afternoon the Wolf Moon rose over the tall trees behind the garden, butter-yellow and gleaming in the late daylight, seeming far brighter than the setting sun. Somehow it tugged at our hearts to see it there in the clear air, appearing to hang above the feathery treetops like a memory from another time.

There seems to be something atavistic in our being human that responds to “signs in the sky” – the moon especially – from some pre-scientific place we’ve long since forgotten to be consciously aware of. Wolves have been absent from England since around 1390, and yet the very phrase “Wolf Moon” resonates with some ancient yearning in us. The cold air itself seems to long for something lost.

To sit still by the window in the moonlight is one of the loveliest things at this time of year. In the 8th century CE the Chinese poet Li Bai wrote:

At the foot of my bed, moonlight
Yes, I suppose there is frost on the ground.
Lifting my head I gaze at the bright moon
Bowing my head, thinking of home.

We were already home, watching the moon rise; and yet something of Li Bai’s nostalgia touches me in moonlight. What is it I am longing for? Ah, but it is a sweet longing, though. I don’t expect something to fulfil it. I am at peace in the moonlight. I don’t want anything, and yet. And yet in the New Year’s rising away from the solstice there is a yearning, even when there is no moon. Perhaps as I said there is something in our merely being human that carries with it wordless memories from times we cannot remember, far back before people built cities or wrote history.

Somehow our practice, and whatever philosophy we derive from it, has to leave room for these times of strange resonance. Dear old Li Bai, the poet and traveller of the Tang dynasty, evidently knew all about this.

Brass rings?

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Following a contemplative path outside of any formal tradition has many benefits, as I have often pointed out here; but it has drawbacks as well. There are pitfalls in the contemplative life that a good teacher would be quick to point out, but which we might struggle to recognise for ourselves. (This is one of the many reasons I so depend upon what I have called contemplative reading.)

One of commonest problems – one that more or less everyone encounters sooner or later, especially if they enlist the aid of psychedelics at any point in their journey – is mistaking spiritual experiences for spiritual realisations. Traleg Kyabgon:

The distinction between spiritual experiences and realizations is continually emphasized in Buddhist thought. If we avoid excessively fixating on our experiences, we will be under less stress in our practice. Without that stress, we will be better able to cope with whatever arises, the possibility of suffering from psychic disturbances will be greatly reduced, and we will notice a significant shift in the fundamental texture of our experience.

There are many accounts in Tibetan Buddhist literature of how spiritual disturbances may arise, but all point to fixation on experiences as the cause. Fixation on our experiences is seen as another variation of fixation on the self.

Kyabgon underlines, of course, how this discernment is embedded in Buddhist teaching. Cynthia Bourgeault puts it from a distinctively Christian perspective:

So here’s a tough one: suppose, going back to that metaphor of boats on the river [thoughts arising during practice], you were suddenly to see amid the flotilla Jesus Christ himself calmly walking toward you on the water, smiling as he reaches forth his hand. The mystical brass ring! What do you do now? Put Centering Prayer on pause and grab it, right?

Wrong. The instructions remain the same. “If you catch yourself thinking, you let the thought go.”

Ouch!

What should we do as solitary contemplatives? It’s impossible to list all the potential missteps on the way, even supposing I were myself aware of them all. I can only reiterate the immense depth of wisdom available in the literature already, not only in books such as I have listed, but online, for instance at Tricycle Magazine (Buddhist) and Contemplative Outreach (Christian) . Serious, attentive reading is an essential part – for me at least – of practice. It really is that important.