Weltanschauung

The Philosopher’s Stone

zenothestoic@protonmail.ch

Category: The Inner Path

  • Omnism

    Omnism

    Or letsism, if you prefer.  The nuns twittered a capella, the priest intoned the prayers. I could have been in the temple of Zeus, or a Zoroastrian cave.  They may as well have been calling on the Buddha but since I was sitting in the Basilica at Vezelay, I had to assume they were cannibalising their saviour.  Devouring his body  and drinking his blood.

    I closed my eyes and drifted into the void.  A place of familiarity, after many years of practice; there but not there, the voices vaguely surrounding me, the atmosphere sublime.

    Did it matter what they believed? We all seek transcendence, beauty, something far better than the raw and sheer beastliness of life on earth.

    But let it not be forgotten that it was here that Bernard of Clairvaux ran the propaganda campaign for the second crusade.

    “The Christian glories in the death of a pagan, because thereby Christ himself is glorified”.

    He told crusaders that if they killed the enemy, it was to the profit of Christ; if they were killed, it was to their own salvation.

    Omnism picks and chooses from the better aspects of spirituality, but it is hard to over emphasize the damage and violence religion has inflicted over the ages. And still does – from the bigotry in Ireland to the brutal extremism of fundamentalist Islam.

    Unlike Thomas Merton who saw many paths up the mountain, most true believers see only one: theirs. Which seems something of a departure from their holy books, most of which preach understanding and decency. Most of the time. Although of course enemies of the one true god tended to be given a rough time.

    Given the less than pleasant track record of most hardline god- botherers, why should letsism appeal? Because it largely chases a state of mind and has no wish to foist it on anyone else.

    It is hard to imagine a practitioner of omnism steering jets full of innocent passengers into twin towers in a major metropolis, full of equally blameless office workers.

    Or convincing crusaders to kill Jews on the way to kill Muslims.

    Omnism is more about feelings, quiet meditation, even escape. Those who practice tend to have no axes to grind, no dogma to enforce, to kill for.

    So I sat in Romanesque and Gothic splendour. I drifted with the singing, I contemplated life. I felt thankful I had no belief, at ease that I didn’t have to profess faith or convert the heathen.  With or without violence.

    Secular spirituality, I suppose.  A belief in “something” but no real idea what that might be.

    A sense of wonder and peace. A realisation that we have got most of it badly wrong. A hope that some day we might find something better.

  • Meditation – a Russian Doll

    Meditation – a Russian Doll

    Just as I thought I had got it, I realised I hadn’t. My composure was severely knocked by crypto fraud and an unpleasant and unhealthy dispute with Oswald the Tory War Criminal.

    For days I became obsessed with getting my money back – reporting the crime to the FBI, the SEC and Uncle Tom Cobbly, posting on various forums to build a victim’s registe, and starting a class action in the US.

    Then came my Tory friend. I was knocked sideways by the sheer bestial inhumanity of someone I have known for 40 years.  I would never have believed he harboured such terrible beliefs.

    Finally, thank the non existent deity, years of Buddhist practice kicked in.  There had been quite a few days when my distress was such that I had failed in my daily meditation.  Mercifully, I soon realised I had to retreat right back to the stance that it was all an illusion, and the ten thousand things simply had to be ignored.

    It became a breakthrough.  Out of the shambles, my efforts took a significant turn for the better. For a while I had to make a conscious effort to shrug off the annoyance and to concentrate with renewed effort on my daily routine.

    By now I’m meditating for three hours each morning, from 7 to about 10. And usually for an hour or so in the evening. Suddenly, on a few occasions, I found that I had simply disappeared.  I was conscious but wholly absent. I imagine this is what others have described as non dual awareness.  The scientists claim it results from the quietening of the Default Mode Network.

    The point is I thought I had arrived, and yet these two upsets proved that I had not.  That there was a way to go, more layers to the onion, more baby dolls inside big mama.

    I don’t suppose I’m there yet. The meditation will probably become deeper, even more strange.  But the important point is it was there when I needed it.  It restored balance, enabled me to return from a place of obsession and foolishness to clarity and serenity.

    So thank heavens for practice. And the tubby little chap in the loincloth.

    There is nothing sacred or holy about meditation. But it does make you see the world and your own behaviour in a very clear light. That if you are not very guarded, you contribute to world misery rather than solve it.

    Equally you see in ever clearer terms how wholly wrong our species is and how vile it’s behaviour.

    The real trick is learning how to avoid humanity and to ignore it. There is absolutely nothing you can do except try to “do unto others”.  Which at times is far from easy.

  • The Mystical Experience is a unique, intense Quale

    The Mystical Experience is a unique, intense Quale

    What is it like to be a bat, asked Thomas Nagel in 1974, in a paper which has become famous and much quoted in the philosophy of mind.

    We can’t say, because we are not bats.  But we can say something at least about our own qualia since we experience them for ourselves.  It is true that language is no substitute for the intensity and power of the experience itself, but those who have not had a mystical experience can grasp a great deal about its nature from the descriptions of those who have.

    I have found that even reading the accounts of others brings on the mystical experience in my own mind – so language is clearly very successful in describing this quale. And reading about how the phenomena feels to others can be very helpful to those trying to come to terms with their own mystical experience.

    I was prompted to write this post after reading a friend’s doctoral thesis on Psychedelic Assisted Therapy, and querying her statement that a therapist and her patient have insufficient language with which to discuss and integrate the experience of a psychedelic trip. I have been thinking for days about how to give her my input and its not a simple question. The complexity is not the language, but the assessment of my own adventures over the years with mystical experience. And a psychedelic trip is mostly accurately described as a mystical experience.

    So the first question I had to ask is what exactly is a mystical experience? And oddly enough, in recent years I have found that much easier to explain with the input of science. In particular I have recently read (or at least analysed) around 100 papers put out by Harvard Medical School and the Massachusetts General Hospital on the effects on the human brain of a prolonged and dedicated long term meditation practice. And few can doubt that such a practice leads to mystical experience. Meditation is at the root of all spiritual traditions, and all such traditions have reported the experiential phenomena of mystical experience.

    And so I have come to find it helpful in the extreme to look at mystical experience from two very different perspectives.

    For many years I concentrated on the mystical-experience-in-itself. What is it like to have a mystical experience? How does it affect my weltanschauung? What existential meaning does it have (if any)? How does it change my life? And in seeking out mystical experience, largely through meditation and in later years through psychedelics (having been sorely misinformed that it was going to cure my depression).

    But as I became more fascinated, as well as more informed, on the nature of consciousness, I began to wonder what science had to say on the topic. Science can not describe the quale – can not fathom the experience itself, but it can certainly shed light on how it arises in the physical world. And indeed how it can be brought on.

    The consideration of these two very different aspects in no way answered the question: what does it mean? Is there any meaning to the mystical experience? Is it showing us a different reality (or at least a very different way of interpreting the vastly complex natural world). I suspect that yes, it enables us to access a different way of seeing the world. It tells us that we are not special, that we are animals not so different from any other descendent of the last common ancestor.

    But this “seeing” has brought great relief, and a real sense of fully understanding, at a deep level, that we are not who or what we think we are. The scientist usually likes to refer to the mystical experience in terms of non duality and ego loss. To a scientist, non-duality and ego loss (or ego dissolution) are measurable psychological and neurological states, rather than just abstract philosophical concepts. While historically these terms were relegated to spiritual traditions, modern neuroscience and psychology now study them as specific “distortions” or “transcendences” of the ordinary sense of self.

    That has brought great solace and a determination to push my meditative practice to the extreme. Let us put it this way: everything in the universe is made of the same stuff and if I can feel that with a visceral, lucid and intense reality within my own mind through ego dissolution, I cease to worry about the endless human fears and petty concerns I have so long suffered from.

    So back to language. “Meaning” I have now dealt with: it enables us to see reality.

    The best descriptions I have found of this quale come from religion and Buddhism, and in particular from three books I was lucky enough to come across over 35 years ago:

    1. William James – The Varieties of Religious Experience (1902)
    2. Evelyn Underhill – Mysticism: A Study in Nature and Development of Spiritual Consciousness (1911)
    3. DT Suzuki – Mysticism Christian and Buddhist (1957)

    The mystical experience is almost identical, wherever it is found – whether in a Christian convent in mediaeval Norwich, a Tibetan Monastery, or a ritual tribal gathering in South America using psychedelics. Or course it will be interpreted in differing ways according to the cultures to which the experiencer belongs. Christian nuns have a rather uncomfortable way of talking about union with Christ with unfortunate sexual undertones. Tribal societies may believe they have met all sorts of spirits and goblins and trolls. The Zen or Tibetan monk will have achieved Nirvana – a realisation that nothing truly exists and life is a grand illusion. Take your pick.

    If I was a therapist (which thankfully I am not) I would be inclined to study these three books and encourage my clients to do the same. And indeed to go far and wide to try to understand the human condition using every means possible – including science such as that provided by Harvard.

    My friend suggests Shared Therapeutic Language: That there is a call for the development of a shared therapeutic language within psychology to help practitioners and clients navigate and name “ineffable” experiences.

    I believe the language is already there and I do not believe it helpful to invent new terms of art specifically for the purpose.

    James highlights a specific sense of reality that transcends the five physical senses, allowing people to feel the objective presence of an unseen order as vividly as if it were a tangible object. 

    Here are some descriptions of the mystical experience from James’s book:

    •  A Clergyman’s Union with the Infinite: A clergyman describes a night on a hilltop where his soul “opened out into the Infinite,” resulting in a “rushing together of the two worlds, the inner and the outer”. He felt a “perfect unison” of his spirit with God, characterized by an “ineffable joy and exaltation” that made the ordinary sense of things fade away
    • A Hiker’s “State of Equilibrium”: A Swiss man recounts a sudden “feeling of being raised above myself” while tramping in the mountains. He perceived the “presence of God” as a throb of emotion so violent he could no longer stand, describing a state where his personality was “transformed by the presence of a spiritual spirit” that had neither form nor colour but was clearly perceived by his consciousness
    • Loss of Identity on a Mountain Summit: A twenty-seven-year-old man describes experiencing “intimate communion with the divine” while looking over vast landscapes. This experience consisted of a “temporary loss of my own identity” combined with an “illumination” that revealed a deeper significance to life than he had previously known
    • J. A. Symonds’s “Pure, Absolute, Abstract Self”: Symonds describes a trance-like state involving a “gradual but swiftly progressive obliteration of space, time, sensation” and all usual factors of experience. This culminated in a state where “nothing remained but a pure, absolute, abstract Self” and the entire universe appeared “without form and void of content”
    • Dr. R. M. Bucke’s “Cosmic Consciousness”: Bucke recounts a sudden experience where he felt “wrapped in a flame-coloured cloud” and realized the fire was within himself. This was followed by an “intellectual illumination” and “immense joyousness” leading to the realization that the universe is a “living Presence,” that all men are immortal, and that “the foundation principle of the world… is what we call love”.

    Here are some descriptions of the mystical experience from Underhill’s book:

    • Saint-Martin’s Synesthetic Perception: The visionary Saint-Martin described a rare state of fused senses, stating, “I heard flowers that sounded, and saw notes that shone”. Underhill notes this as an interpretation of vibrations by a consciousness that has changed or transcended its normal rhythm.
    • Richard Rolle’s “Heavenly Melody”: Rolle provided an account of his passage into a state of “songful love,” recounting how, while praying in a chapel, he suddenly felt “the sound of song” within himself. He described this as a “heavenly melody” that dwelt in his mind and turned his thoughts into a “mirth of song”.
    • Suso’s Vision of the Crystal Heart: In a symbolic vision, Suso saw his own body in the region of his heart become “pure and transparent like crystal”. He perceived “Divine Wisdom peacefully enthroned” in the center of his heart, while his soul rested on the “bosom of God” in a state of inebriation.
    • Dante’s River of Light: Dante described a “symbolic reconstruction of reality” where he saw “light in the form of a river blazing with radiance”. This river flowed between banks of flowers, and from it issued “living sparks” that settled on the blossoms like “rubies set in gold”.
    • St. Teresa’s Transverberation: In a celebrated “active imaginary vision,” St. Teresa described an angel who thrust a golden spear tipped with fire into her heart. This experience left her “all on fire with a great love of God,” producing a physical and spiritual pain that she described as having a “surpassing sweetness”.

    Here are some descriptions of the Buddhist mystical experience from Suzuki’s book:

    • The Experience of “Is-ness” (Tathata): Buddhist enlightenment is described as the experience of “is-ness” or “suchness” (tathata), which in itself possesses all the possible values humans can conceive.
    • Universal Enlightenment: It is recorded that when Buddha attained enlightenment, he perceived that all beings—both sentient and non-sentient—were already part of the enlightenment itself.
    • “Vast Emptiness” (Sunyata): The Zen patriarch Bodhidharma described the highest and holiest truth of the Sutras as “A vast emptiness and no holiness in it”. This state is reached by a metaphorical “leap” into a “silent valley” of Absolute Emptiness.
    • Transformative Perception (The Circular Sun): In a Zen verse-story, master Rakan Osho describes his enlightenment as an explosion of doubt, after which he “for the first time perceived that the sun was circular”. This signifies seeing the fundamental “is-ness” of everyday things with a transformed view of life
    • The Oneness of the Devotee and Buddha (Ki and Ho): In Shin Buddhism, the mystical experience is characterized as the identification of “oneness” of the devotee (ki) and the Buddha or Reality (ho). This identification is often actualized through the invocation of the “Namu-amida-butsu”

    You could of course codify all the above into categories for the purpose of making a specific therapeutic definition of each particular variety of mystical experience, but I wonder whether that would add much?

    “Sex_obsessed_nun_crush_on_christ” for instance would be a splendid short code for much of the Western Christian mystical experience in the convent. But perhaps it doesn’t really add much.

    Who am I to say. I hope my friend will forgive my tongue in cheek irreverence.

  • Meditation – Peace out of Chaos

    Meditation – Peace out of Chaos

    For nearly a decade, I have been adrift in a Sea of Words, documenting a relentless search for truths as a form of unashamed catharsis intended to explain myself to my own mind.

    My archive consists of hundreds of posts, recording a transition from the bad-tempered rants of an aging cynic to a state close to ataraxia—an almost undisturbed mental tranquillity.

    I have often been asked if this journey has led to any tangible conclusion, and my response is always the same: yes, but you must make the journey for yourself. The proof of the pudding is in the eating.

    It does not matter what the Dalai Lama says, nor does it matter what is written in the thousands of “self-help” books that clutter the shelves of the “Wellness Industry”. What matters is whether a practice works to relieve the profound suffering of the human condition.

    I can confirm that after sixty five years of being blighted by serious, black depression, I have succeeded in besting the beast.

    The Arid Desert of Seeking

    I was a “seeker” for over thirty-five years. I looked in every corner for the “Philosopher’s Stone”—the answer to life, the universe, and everything. I studied the Book of Common Prayer for its sublime, calming language, the Buddhist sutras for their powerful remedy, and the works of modern science to see if the “men in white coats” had finally unravelled the mystery of consciousness.

    For a long time, I was seduced by the promise of the “silver bullet”. I tried every medically approved drug on offer, from SSRIs to psychedelics, in the hope of finding an instant escape from trauma and misery. I listened to cross-legged Russian windbags and diamante-spectacled gurus who promised a short cut to god and liberation for a fiver.

    I discovered that most of these “merchants of dreams” are cynical fakes. They offer “McMindfulness”—a fashion accessory for the busy professional—rather than a genuine path out of the pit. I learned that you cannot buy your way into Nirvana. The answer lies within, and it requires a level of persistence and rigorous self-discipline that few are willing to apply.

    The Rigor of the Daily Path

    My own success began not with the “blinding flash” of enlightenment, but with a determined, daily commitment to meditation practice. For the past four years, I have followed a routine that would seem to most like living in a closed monastic order.

    Each morning begins with at least one hour (often two) of sitting meditation before I even get out of bed. I no longer worry about “technique” or whether I am “getting it right”. I sit in comfort, following my breath and occasionally repeating a simple mantra of my own making.

    Through my practice, I have proved to myself that the subconscious can be trained. The damaging “scripts” of worry and rumination that once ran like well-worn tracks through my mind have been overwritten by more beneficent patterns. When I meditate, the world recedes, and I am left (more often than not) in a place of fecund emptiness where all seems well.

    The second pillar of my practice is meditative exercise. I perform slow, sloth-like Pilates or Yoga for an hour or two every day. This is not a sweaty marathon but a rhythmic, deliberate stretching that deepens my inner calm. Lying back on my mat, I am often flooded with a sensation of mild ecstasy—what the scientists might call an endocannabinoid high, but what I experience as pure, unadulterated peace.

    The Result: Life as a Meditation

    Has this practice changed my life? I can say, without any shade or shadow of doubt, that it has. I find that my entire existence has become a meditation. I am no longer a character in a book that has already been written; I have become an autonomous agent capable of authoring my own reality.

    This “Proof of the Pudding” is (mostly!) visible in how I greet the world:

    1. The Absence of Conflict: I have learned to let go of the need to be right. I no longer engage with the “Pigs,” “Salesmen,” and “Trolls” who once irritated me so intensely. I have withdrawn from the “Human Zoo” of politics and business, recognizing it as a zero-sum game of greed and power play.
    2. A Raised Hedonic Baseline: My default state is now mostly one of calm and acceptance. The Black Dog that pawed at my door for over six decades has more or less disappeared.
    3. Oneness with the Background: I often feel the sensation of fading into the environment, being absorbed into the beauty of the natural world. Whether I am pruning fruit trees or watching a kestrel hover over the marshes, I often feel a sense of almost mystical unity that requires no god or dogma to explain.

    The Simple Rule

    We live in Puzzle’s Stable (like the dwarves in Narnia’s Last Battle), surrounded by paradise but unable to see it because we are blinded by our own small vanities and concerns. We treat our planet like a slaughterhouse and our fellow men as competitors to be crushed.

    Once you come to know a quiet mind, you realize that the world does not need more entrepreneurs or tech titans or politicians seeking to own the planet. The world needs no crusades or missiles, no endless brutality.

    The world needs people who are willing to stop and listen, go inwards.  To smell the flowers. Who yearn only for peace and decency.

    I have arrived at a final conclusion; my Weltanschauung is complete. Nothing matters except how you treat others. In a seemingly meaningless universe, the only “truth” is the imperative to treat every sentient being with the kindness and decency we would wish for ourselves.

    The Book of Common Prayer speaks of the “peace which the world cannot give”.   And yet, through the simple act of sitting in silence and reflecting on my own behaviour, peace is exactly what I have found.

    If you are standing at the edge of an abyss, you have nothing to lose. Give it a go. The path is long and arduous (or at least it was in my case), but the reward is a window onto the soul that reveals a world of infinite beauty.

    Image: Claude: Landscape with the Marriage of Isaac and Rebekah, 1648. The National Gallery, London

  • ebook Download

    ebook Download

    A Weltanschauung

    A Weltanschauung – 291 Downloads

    The download button above enables you to download a free ebook in epub format to your own device (PC, Tablet, Mobile Phone). You will see the file’s name is A-Weltanschauung-Zeno-the-Stoic.epub and the file size is around 6 mb.

    I haven’t written a fancy introduction or included any further comment at all. Its simply an ebook version of this website for those who find, like myself, that it is a great deal easier reading an ebook than endlessly scrolling through websites.

    As I have often said before, my only real purpose in writing was originally to explain the world to my own satisfaction. My essays have become my garden. Like Candide, I have ceased to wander.

    These days I like to imagine my plea for peace and meditation may make some small mark on a troubled world.

    The front cover features a painting by Poussin – Et In Arcadia Ego. A momento mori. A suitable reflection on the transience of earthly life.

    The ebook contains every post on this website from its inception in March 2018 up to and including 3rd March 2026

    Each post has an image and the text of the post. I have not included the comments made on posts (if any) nor clutter like menus which would have greatly increased the file size and made the book far less readable.

    The total number of posts is 380.

    EPUB (short for “Electronic Publication”) is the global industry standard for digital books. Unlike a PDF, which acts like a static “digital photocopy” of a physical page, an EPUB is designed specifically for screen-based reading.

    Key Characteristics

    • Reflowable Text: The most important feature. The text automatically adjusts to fit any screen size, whether it’s a small smartphone or a large tablet. You won’t need to “pinch and zoom” to read.
    • Customizable Layout: Readers can change the font size, typeface, line spacing, and background color (e.g., switching to “Dark Mode”) to suit their preferences.
    • Open Standard: It is a non-proprietary format maintained by the W3C (World Wide Web Consortium), meaning it isn’t owned by a single company.
    • Technical Structure: Under the hood, an EPUB is essentially a “website in a box”—a ZIP archive containing HTML files for text, CSS for styling, and images.

    Compatibility

    • Supported Devices: It is the native format for almost all e-readers, including Kobo, Barnes & Noble Nook, Tolino, and PocketBook.
    • Kindle Support: While Amazon previously ignored EPUB in favor of its own formats (MOBI/AZW), modern Kindle devices now support EPUB files sent via the Send to Kindle service.
    • Apps: You can open EPUBs using free apps like Apple Books, Google Play Books, or the Libby app for library loans.

    See the following link to download the file onto your kindle:

    Send to Kindle

    It works very well. Kinde is the only ebook reader I use and I have not tested the file on other devices but it should work fine.

  • The Psychological and Physiological Reality of Meditation

    The Psychological and Physiological Reality of Meditation

    I write as a personal testimony, and out of gratitude.

    Aged nearly 70, most years of my life have been blighted by serious, black depression which began in childhood. Much has been written on the subject of depression over thousands of years and I feel no need to augment that sad collection.

    Instead I want to confirm success in turning my life around after so many desperate decades. I have written many times on the subject of meditation (and indeed depression) and after each occasion on which I have written, I have unconsciously left a long gap, feeling perhaps no immediate need to revisit the matter. It hardly makes for cheerful fare.

    I have studied meditation, mysticism, depression and related topics for more than 35 years and have read much by many authors, and many books whose authors are in effect unknown. Religious texts, books of psychology and philosophy, practical guides (many of which proved unworthy), dark nights of many souls. While there is some satisfaction in gathering knowledge, it proved of little use.

    As a closet ascetic, I dallied with meditation in a practical sense for many years but never with the persistence or determination necessary to prove efficacious.

    Without being able to give an accurate date, it seems to me that I have now been taking my practice in a very serious manner for around three years.

    If I am to be honest, there now seems little room for anything else in my life, but sacrifice sometimes has to be made to achieve a desired goal. And I am deeply thankful I have not made such a sacrifice in the pursuit of power or great wealth. Although I would in any event be deeply unsuited to such a course of action.

    My practice has changed much over the past three years. I no longer use self hypnosis although it proved useful initially. By now, the descent into a meditative state of mind happens more or less on demand whenever summoned.

    In the beginning it was a chore, an effort. Even 20 minutes seemed eternal, accompanied by a tedious desire to sneak a look at a clock to see when my time was up. I worried about technique, I fussed over letting thoughts go. I obsessed about what my practice was supposed to achieve and whether I was making any headway. In any direction.

    Over time, I slowly expanded my 20 minute slots and simply ceased to worry. It all became very natural, it began to happen on its own and without effort. And it has become increasingly pleasurable – although the purists will tell you that is not the point at all. Perhaps pleasurable is not the right word but it has certainly become addictive for the utter peace it inevitably brings.

    And that peace has spread out into the rest of my life. Which is not to claim I never get irritable, just that my default state is now one of calm and acceptance, enjoyment even – in a quiet sort of way.

    I could talk and lecture forever but none of my words will make a blind bit of difference to you. Do as I do rather than hear my words. Practice, routinely and regularly and for lengthening periods of time. Relax and don’t fuss – keep at it and the magic will slowly creep in, almost without you noticing.

    No one should be deterred by my obsession – I feel sure that most would find great benefit without letting meditation take over their lives. Perhaps I was a tough case, perhaps I needed to be compulsive to effect a cure. There again, obsession and deep concentration on the matter in hand is my nature.

    I happened to meditate for an hour and a half this morning before I got up, but then I am retired and can afford the time. I’m sure others who still toil at the coal face of capitalism or elsewhere would find much benefit in 15 to 20 minutes here and there during the day.

    I have also had to make serious changes in my life, none of which I regret. For me, these adjustments have been absolutely necessary – but perhaps others can get off more lightly.

    Everything has become about right living, as our Buddhist friends might say. I don’t drink or smoke, I am pretty well a vegetarian and I exercise with reasonable vigour every day without fail. Often for several hours.

    I have consciously tried to refine my behaviour, much along the lines of the three wise monkeys. Its not a source of pride or self congratulation – I just feel better that way.

    I don’t socialise very much and when I do I am very picky about my company. Social butterflies, business people, politicians hold little appeal. Snobbery has become an anathema. Braying voices of the privileged few grate against my nerves, and so my club can prove a tiresome trial sometimes.

    So that is how I lead my life and, like it or not it works for me. As long as I don’t let the routine slip, if I stay well away from computers, algorithms and complex derivative arbitrage, the sun tends to shine. Let any of the old life back in and the cumulonimbus incus rapidly reappears. My hedonic baseline has risen – it is as simple and incontrovertible as that.

    Some may be tempted to think that my experiences are merely subjective, or that I am a teller of untruths.

    I can say that I am not, but you have no need to believe me. You can find ample evidence that others have reported similar success and it may be worthwhile to summarise what seem generally to be the psychological and physiologic effects of the long term and serious practice of meditation. It is also worth looking at the physical evidence of change found in practitioners by medical research and testing.

    My advice these days would be to avoid a religious or historic interpretation of the practice. Tales of mysticism east and west, earnest advice from Buddhas and gurus – all of that confabulates the matter into a fantastic and generally unhelpful mishmash of semi religious garbage.

    Stick with the science and the therapists and you are likely to see the reality far more clearly.

    To cut through the nonsense search for (in strictly secular terms) the effects of long term, serious dedicated meditation. You are likely to end up with something like the following summary:

    On a strictly secular and scientific basis, long-term, dedicated meditation can lead to measurable and lasting changes in brain structure and function, emotional regulation, and physiological health. The effects extend beyond simple relaxation, training the brain to be more resilient, focused, and emotionally balanced. 

    Neurological effects

    • Increased gray matter: Long-term meditators show increased gray matter volume in several brain regions, including the frontal lobe, hippocampus, and insula. These areas are associated with attention, learning, memory, and emotion regulation, suggesting that meditation helps preserve brain structure against age-related decline.
    • Enhanced neural connectivity: Meditation improves the neural connections between different parts of the brain. Studies show increased connectivity between the prefrontal cortex (involved in executive function) and the default mode network (DMN), the system associated with mind-wandering and self-referential thought. This improved communication enables better focus and emotional regulation.
    • Reduced amygdala activity: The amygdala is the brain’s “fight or flight” center, responsible for processing fear and stress. Regular meditation has been shown to decrease the size and reactivity of the amygdala, resulting in a significantly reduced stress response.
    • Altered brainwaves: Experienced meditators often exhibit higher levels of gamma brainwaves, which are associated with heightened perception and consciousness, even when not actively meditating. The practice also promotes more alpha and theta waves, correlating with a relaxed but alert state.
    • Increased neuroplasticity: Dedicated practice strengthens the brain’s capacity for neuroplasticity—its ability to form new neural connections based on experience. This allows the brain to re-wire itself in response to new information and challenges. 

    Cognitive and emotional effects

    • Improved attention and focus: Meditation strengthens the brain’s attention networks. This helps develop both sustained attention (the ability to stay focused on a task) and selective attention (the ability to filter out distracting stimuli).
    • Enhanced emotional regulation: The practice helps build emotional resilience and reduce automatic, negative reactions to stressors. By training the mind to observe thoughts without judgment, it can decrease rumination and allow for a more balanced response to challenging situations.
    • Reduced anxiety and depression: A wide range of studies show that mindfulness meditation can significantly reduce the symptoms of depression and anxiety. For some, its effects are comparable to those of antidepressant medication, offering an effective tool for managing these mental health conditions.
    • Greater self-awareness and self-compassion: Meditators often develop a clearer understanding of their own thoughts, feelings, and impulses. This can lead to greater psychological freedom, less impulsive behavior, and a more compassionate attitude toward oneself. 

    Physical health effects

    • Lowered blood pressure and heart rate: By activating the parasympathetic nervous system (the “rest and digest” response), meditation helps reduce resting heart rate and blood pressure, taking the body out of a chronic “fight or flight” state.
    • Reduced inflammation: Chronic stress increases inflammation, which contributes to many diseases. Meditation has been shown to reduce inflammatory markers and the expression of pro-inflammatory genes in the body.
    • Strengthened immune system: By reducing stress and inflammation, meditation can indirectly boost immune function. Studies on mindfulness training have observed stronger immune responses to vaccinations.
    • Improved sleep: By calming the nervous system, meditation can help shorten the time it takes to fall asleep and improve the overall quality of sleep.
    • Pain management: Meditation can alter the brain’s processing of pain, helping manage symptoms of chronic conditions like fibromyalgia and migraines. It does this by decoupling the physical sensation of pain from the emotional reaction to it. 

    As I said at the very beginning of this post, I write as a personal testimony, and out of gratitude. And in a more particular sense I write to those many, many people blighted by the curse of unhappiness, depression or any similar malady of the soul.

    I have proved to myself that lasting, genuine, dramatic change is possible.

    I hope you might “give it a go”.

    Illustration: A Man Reading: Rogier van der Weyden, c. 1450

  • Who needs a guru?

    Who needs a guru?

    Nobody does. Certainly not the variety on public offer.

    It is tempting (or perhaps just lazy) to seek someone who claims to “Know”. To have “The Answer”. A cursory search on Amazon will provide you with thousands of authors who will give you the answer if you buy their book. The world is full of wellness retreats and spiritual gurus who suck in money from the gullible in return for a garbled word salad of  fantastical excrement. Sometimes with a dash of “sacred” magic mushroom or gut wrenching ayahuasca added to the mix.

    The world is full of thought systems. Attempts to answer the unanswerable.  I am wary of those who believe they have answers, but they are legion. Some wearing a more traditional cloak, a priest of some recognised religion. Some in the garb of charlatanism – the new agers, the modern druids, the purveyors of woo and auric eggs. Who remembers the venerable Betty Shine.

    The truth is there is little enough to distinguish all these pedlars of hope and certainty.

    But if I had to make a choice, my preference would be for someone who isn’t on the make.

    Traditionally a guru is a mentor or guide to those who seek spiritual knowledge. While the word is Sanscrit, the concept is applicable the world over. Many faiths have their gurus, though they may wear a different guise.

    I was at the National Gallery in London this week, looking at the newly hung and magnificent collection of medieval and early Renaissance paintings. The overwhelming majority of which depict Christian subjects.

    One particular portrait of a monk reached out to me. For all I know he could have been as vile as Rasputin or as drunk as Friar Tuck, but somehow a deep sincerity shone from his face – here was a guru I might have found acceptable. A wise and kindly man living a life of poverty, helping the poor and devoting himself to prayer and good works.  Although for all I know he was one of those who gave the monastic life a bad name and helped to usher in the Reformation.

    But my point is twofold.

    I suspect if I met the genuine article face to face, I would know. A light would shine, it would be blatantly obvious that here was a man who “Knew”.

    And yet I am not at all sure he would have much to teach me. Of course he would be a better person than I. He would be pure in mind and body, a healer of the sick, a man of modesty and humility.

    But he would teach by example, and for that I do not need to sit at his feet. I certainly do not need to read or believe his holy books. All I need to know is that here stands a good man.

    And that is what spirituality is. To me at least. The material world becomes translucent, the futility of ambition and power wanes and fades in a dark corner. I do not need a guru to tell me what I need to do. The way is blindingly obvious.

    But I do perhaps seek his company, his friendship. His goodness.  To bask in the radiance of his obvious decency and begninity.

    That is all I need from a wise man, a guru.

    The only thought system I need is how to behave, how to think, how to act. And after so many years of thought, I do not need anyone to tell me the answer.

    So yes, there are many systems of belief which teach much the same simple message but which have become cluttered with baseless supernatural speculation. You don’t need a guru to tell you all that nonsense.

    If you need a guru at all, it is for companionship along the difficult road of life. Preferably someone rather better than you are. More tolerant, kinder, better intentioned, humbler, further along the road of awareness.

    I don’t need Betty Shine to tell me about auric eggs. I have no interest in running an off-licence and turning water into wine. I don’t need to wail at Yahweh or bless the Prophet. I don’t need theosophy or the Perennial Philosophy. You can keep Madam Blavatsky.

    And if you think about it, you might decide you don’t need gurus either.

    Because quite honestly all you need is to go within. To consider life and where you might have gone wrong (or right). To listen in the silence for a voice, likely your own.

    If I came across a holy man, I would know what I had found and would be glad of it. He might be discovered in a monastery, a desert. He might be a train driver or a bus conductor. But I would know him when I met him.  Even if I didn’t need to be “taught”, I would still enjoy his company.

    So much nonsense spluttered over so many thousands of years. So much violence and greed. So many good ideas twisted and made evil.

    Who needs a guru when it is all so simple. If only we could adopt such simplicity, we would need little else to bring peace.

    Humility and kindness. Nothing else is really needed. Except a great deal of practice.

  • Letter from a Senior Devil

    Letter from a Senior Devil

    I have found that meditation does exactly what it says on the tin. But, for me at least, it has taken a long time to get there.

    I was chatting to a friend the other day. Like me, his life has been plagued by melancholy, and he describes the condition so well, in terms so very familiar to me.

    Even in the midst of great beauty and in the arms of his lovely family, he is struck by anhedonia. I mentioned to him that his older sister had asked my views on meditation when she was 11 years old. We were walking on Hampstead Heath and I was much taken aback by her impressive precocity. That was over 30 years ago and I am still amazed when I recall her earnest young face and her serious demeanour. And now her younger brother looks also to take up the practice.

    How very familiar my friend’s problem sounds: I travelled the world, I lived my entire life surrounded by beauty and yet I was never able to appreciate it. Bobbing around in Hong Kong harbour on the way to lunch on Lamma, exploring the glory of Tokyo and the Japanese Alps, balancing on my snowboard above Davos – the blackness never entirely left me, and never in any event for long.

    I have written much over the past few years on my battles with the daemon and at first it was an attempt to puzzle it out for my own purposes. To see my way out of the deep, deep dark of my embattled soul.

    Without any shadow of doubt, I have now learnt to control the dark, to mitigate it, to destroy its hold over me.  My friend has come to the conclusion that meditation is his best chance – his great hope. And my fervent desire is that it works for him – I have no doubt that it will. But I feel a great responsibility for him, and also towards any others who may have read my words and found in them a measure of encouragement.  I wanted to clarify and expand a little on my struggles – to point out a few of the traps I have stumbled into.  And at last escaped from.

    Above all I want to expand on something I touched on a few months back – holism, the necessity to alter one’s entire life and one’s entire outlook on life. Not just intellectually but actually – in day to day practice.

    I have always been a quiet sort of fellow at heart, contemplative, given to liturgy and choral music, the trappings of spirituality of all sorts. So probably my first mistake was to end up as an investment banker.

    In those days my journey into my own psyche had only just begun. I was deeply dissatisfied with a life which, on its surface, most would take to have been glittering and successful.

    I started with the Bible, I seem to recall. And Peake’s commentary.  Surely I had done something wrong, I must have sinned greatly. The answer to my misery, the way out, must reside in those dusty old pages written by a bunch of tribesmen and desert nomads thousands of years ago.

    I found no solace there, no answers. And a great deal of cruelty and misery as well as, admittedly, some beauty of language and thought.

    I worked my way through modern psychology, starting with Mesmer and Charcot then Freud and others. Hypnotism fascinated me and has remained a great interest. Much of psychology in general I found profoundly unhelpful, but then I guess I was looking for a silver bullet.

    And there, I believe, was my ultimate error. The search for a silver bullet. A one stop solution for my condition, a simple and above all quick escape from trauma and misery. Not for me the endless therapy of talk. Not for me the unfulfilled promises of the religion of my upbringing which assured me I was sinful, as was everyone around me. And that some pie in the sky fellow  would fix it all for me if only I would repent and agree that he (or she or it) was the Dogs Bollox.

    I turned east and felt I had arrived in fertile territory at last. Buddhism, Taoism, Shinto.

    I was deeply puzzled by the canon, the law of the east, much as I had been by that of the west. The same beliefs in gods and demons, flying carpets and impossible miracles. Even in those early days, I leaned towards secular Buddhism and dispensed with supernatural faery tales.

    I was taxed, for quite a time, by the concept of nirvana. What exactly was it and how did you bring it on? Time wasted I fear – the evident truth was much more prosaic but nonetheless deeply useful.

    I took on meditation right from the very beginning of my search all those years ago.  I practiced on ski lifts (I spent most of my career dealing in financial instruments from my snowboard in the mountains above Klosters), on trains, on my frequent flights here, there and everywhere.

    I didn’t really know what I was looking for, how I should feel, what my practice was supposed to achieve, and above all when. I had some peace in the mountains and quite a bit of fun, but the clouds never truly lifted and the sun never shone for very long.

    Looking back I was living an illusion. I had read all the advertising and the hype (including translations of original texts and some mostly awful modern interpretations). I was captivated by the concepts and certainly convinced by the moral aspects of the teachings. But somehow my approach was clearly too intellectual and remote.  The reality, looking back, was that I understood it all but never really lived it.

    And my meditation came and went, in fits and starts – I was never very clear or very sure what it had achieved or hadn’t.

    At the same time, and over many years, I endlessly explored physical remedies. I moved countries, jobs and apartments frequently. From Tokyo to Kong Kong, from Singapore back to London and then to Switzerland. And within Switzerland from Zurich to Zug, then Villars and finally Klosters. Via a house in Le Touquet which I kept at the same time for good measure.

    And then the pills and countless other doomed projects – St John’s Wort, Omega 3 oil, CBD oil, magic mushrooms.

    I returned to meditation in a more serious way some 3 or 4 years ago but by that time I had managed to achieve a little wisdom.  By then I was too jaded to continue the useless search for a quick fix. I realised that leaving aside a lobotomy or the adoption of The Final Solution, I had to fix myself by developing what I rather grandiloquently call a world view – and by living it. And it helped, greatly. If there is one thing I can thank the psilocybin for, it was in helping me to think in a different way, changing my mind, even if, in the end, it nearly did for me.

    And so back to holism.  A term I have tended to deride in the past but I cannot think of a better way of putting it.  After so many years of fruitless searching, I suddenly began to sense that there were so many aspects of my own behaviour which had caused me untold damage over the years.  And so I began turning my internal life upside down.  Since no rearrangement of my external circumstances had ever made any difference.

    In physical terms I ensure that I eat healthily and relatively sparsely, exercise rigorously and get plenty of sleep. I don’t touch alcohol or cigarettes (I gave both up many years ago). I read, play the piano, and occasionally sing. And I listen to myself (and occasionally my wife) very, very carefully.

    Importantly I realised that I knew enough. That it was pointless to continue to believe that anyone else had any better answers, let alone The Answer.  And so I abandoned  much of what I had agonised about over many decades. Religion, philosophy, science – to hell with Sartre and Sisyphus, Camus and god himself.

    But I did see that I had picked up kernels of truth from all over the place over very many years, and that perhaps the time had come to practice seriously. Rather than read or write or pontificate.

    I began to meditate in a way that I had never done before.  Seeking nothing, but letting whatever was out there (or in there) come to me. And letting it seep through every aspect of my life. I have pursued meditation every single day since then, for an hour or two, followed by meditative exercise and yoga.

    What came through most clearly was the destructiveness of my own thoughts and their relentless, dull repetitiveness. And slowly, very slowly, over the past few years I have been able to change my thoughts and drop the damaging, obsessive worrying and the clinging to hopeless desires and ambitions.

    What also began to emerge was empathy and the realisation that life was far from simple for any of us. Much of the moral guidance of the hoary old tomes I had read  now assumed far greater importance. Difficult to understand quite how or why, but I seemed more able to concentrate less on my own useless obsessions and think more about what was going on around me, and to others.

    And so my days became different and my behaviour less obsessive (or autistic?).  I spent far less time at my computer – I realised the huge daily mental effort was a major cause of my blackness. What had once seemed cardinal became far less so. Yes, I would continue to trade for the intellectual challenge, but I would no longer let acquisition and the desire for more ruin my life.

    I learnt to use a dimmer switch when I sensed I was overdoing it. I can be overwhelmed by things many people take in their stride. Too many people, too much conversation. Too much thinking. Too much Netflix, too much anything.  I had to learn to moderate my life, every aspect of it. I had to realise that I was not who I thought I was, not who or what I would like to be.

    And I have tried to be better behaved, kinder, more thoughtful – a daily struggle and not always successful but certainly worth the effort for my own happiness and for those around me.

    So perhaps awareness has been my biggest takeaway from my endless (and perhaps excessive?) meditation. That I was ruining my own life, quite unnecessarily, and that much of what I had considered important in the past wasn’t. And could be abandoned for a better way of life.

    And yes, there have been surprising physical and mental benefits to my practice. A satori or three here and there. Some “visions” not unlike those produced by psychedelics. And peace, real peace which often lasts throughout the day (but which flees rapidly if I forget to use my dimmer switch).

    And so to a younger sufferer I would say stand back. Go inwards, see what you are all about. Be quiet, be still. Listen – to yourself, the wind, the birds, the very universe itself. And let go – above all else let go. A journey inward paradoxically becomes in the end a journey outward. A realisation that we are all part of a whole and that perhaps the whole matters more than the parts. That perhaps we individually are not so very important and should let go of our small vanities and concerns.

    I hope that my words may help. I hope that I make some sense and that the tales of my own struggles may be of some use to my young friend. And to any others who may read of my efforts.

    I no longer find myself asking what the universe is about or how I fix it.  I exist, I am and with that I seem to find myself content.

  • An Atheist’s Guide to Nirvana

    An Atheist’s Guide to Nirvana

    Transcendence is a reality and can change life for the better. It can be sought out and it can be achieved. The more you have the experience, the easier it becomes to trigger and the more often it comes unbidden and unlooked for.

    The word “transcendence” sounds grandiose and unduly religious – perhaps a less controversial way to describe the experience is Abraham Maslow’s phrase: the “peak experience”. Sounds secular, even scientific perhaps. Less arty, less poetic. But the same thing nonetheless.

    Anyone claiming to have had experience of “transcendence” tends to  sound like a new age hippy.  A religious nutter.  A fake messiah.  A crank, a would be promoter of a sinister new sect.  The reality is that such states are relatively common and the experiencer is more likely to be the man on the Clapham omnibus.

    States of transcendence have been experienced and described throughout the ages. It seems best to view them as an alternate state of consciousness – a different experience  of the physical reality we find ourselves in.  Rather than an entry into a supernatural or non-physical realm.

    Nonetheless, such experiences are radical and life changing. They make the physical reality we inhabit as special and magical as those we describe in faery tales and religious texts.

    Transcendent states don’t have to be imagined or believed in. Anyone can have one and  transform their experience of an otherwise unsatisfactory world.

    Doubtless those of a more traditionally religious state of mind will find my opinions unacceptable (even blasphemous). But  those unwilling to accept religious dogma will no doubt be far more amenable to belief in a different state of mind, a different perception of reality, which does not rely on non physical worlds or realms.  Or gods.

    The latter position is where I find my own beliefs to lie.

    I believe that the world is strange enough as it is and that there is no need to posit  supernatural causes or entities. In addition, transcendent states of mind make it possible to actually experience the sorts of qualia otherwise only described by the various religions.  “The Peace of God”, “Nirvana”, “Moksha” and so on. 

    There are practical routines which can lead us to our own transcendent episodes, and once experienced, our universe begins to look very different.

    It is unnecessary here to dwell on the nature of such experiences, which has been so often dealt with elsewhere, but often those who claim first hand knowledge talk of profound peace, tranquility and a sense of gnosis.

    There is no science to this, no proof of the existence of the state. It is subjective and self-reported, like any other state of mind.  Science is, however, making increasing efforts to track the neural correlates of such states, and brain activity does show characteristic markers in those who submit to tests.

    The reality of transcendence can be enjoyed by anyone who engages  in routines which tend to bring on the experience.  Which seems good enough. You don’t need a scientist or proof when you can bring about a state of transcendence or peak experience for yourself.

    What you make of the experience is, of course, up to you.

    Those of a religious frame of mind tend to see their god or other anchor of their belief system

    I have continuously queried such states over a number of years and god was noticeable by his absence. But then that would be expected – we tend to see what we believe is out there and over the years my atheism has become more pronounced. 

    For around four years I took psychedelics on a regular basis – for much the same reason as Alduous Huxley.  While fascinating, god again refused to make an appearance. Pure ecstasy was to be found in abundance however, and I found myself thankful that psilocybin is not addictive.

    I have found yoga and meditation equally proficient in producing  peak experiences.  I get many of the same bizarre effects, albeit on a less radical scale. I can feel my mind and body profoundly altered and my view of the world becomes clear and benign. 

    Unlike with psychedelics, the experience lasts and the alterations in one’s psyche are, it seems, permanent.

    The changes in my own personality and behaviour have accelerated over the past few years. I have become quieter and more contemplative and ever more sure that our species has it all wrong.  I no longer feel anger at the world – simply quiet acceptance.  Once an ambitious capitalist, I have come to be amused by those who pile up vast dirt balls for themselves, and I no longer believe that achieves anything worth having.

    I note arrogance, greed and aggression all around me. The suicidal mania on our roads, the destruction of our habitat, the callous, careless and selfish behaviour of so many of us. I note with wry amusement the behaviour of our “leaders” and realise that it has always been thus. How “amusing” that the Israelis are now bombing the shit out of Iran, having committed genocide in Gaza. What great lessons, what wisdom they drew from the Holocaust.  And the Iranian mullahs – how valuable their faith has been in promoting tolerance and world peace. 

    It is business as usual in the world at large.  Planning and scheming, grabbing and killing, re-arming and restocking with dread weapons.  Talking of war and annihilation instead of peace and harmony .

    Perhaps though, a better world is possible. Perhaps we will grow up. Perhaps more of us will come to see obscene material wealth for the abomination it is.  And that violence achieves nothing.

    I believe that turning inwards, adopting simplicity, trying to better ourselves might work one fine day.

    Back in 2018 I started a blog called “Weltanschauung”. My worldview is now largely complete. My years of meditation and contemplation have, in some senses, achieved nothing at all. I am no richer, I have no power, I am not famous.

    And yet, in general, I am happy, which is a state I have never before managed to achieve.

    And yes, I do attribute that to my “peak experiences”, my increasingly frequent transcendence to a very different state of mind.  To my many hours of meditation and yoga each day. To my contemplation and my realisations.

    I have proved to myself that a better world is possible, and I take much solace from that. It will not arrive by violent revolution or by the dictat of some imaginary god. It will come, if at all, by slow and incremental change. By evolution perhaps. By a slow realisation that a good life, a meaningful existence, can never be achieved by greed and violence. By more of us turning towards simplicity and peace and realising that nothing more is required.

    I am a man on the Clapham Omnibus, one of 10 bn souls on this planet.  On the Planck scale really – almost infinitely small and insignificant.  And yet I seem to have achieved a different state of mind, which has improved my life immensely.  I cannot help but believe that all of us could and should do the same.  And that if we did, many good things would be possible.

  • No Man is an Island

    No Man is an Island

    Peace can be found by treating life as a whole, and not otherwise.

    Holism is an ancient philosophical concept stretching back over much of human history, even if the word itself arose from the unlikely pen of Jan Smuts early in the 20th century.

    If we have become jaded by the often comic use of the word in ‘new age’ marketing ploys, we ignore the concept itself at our peril.

    If we dig a little more deeply, we become enmeshed in the endless debate between the metaphysicians and the materialists.  The materialists hold that all things can be explained by reference to the parts from which they are made. Their opponents argue that the whole is greater than the sum of its constituent parts.

    Emergence, to put it another way. We humans are made from the apparently inert substance from which the rest of the universe comes, and yet consciousness arises.

    We humans are a complex adaptive system within an infinitely larger system.  We cannot be understood without studying the whole. 

    No man is an island,
    Entire of itself;
    Every man is a piece of the continent,
    A part of the main.
    If a clod be washed away by the sea,
    Europe is the less,
    As well as if a promontory were:
    As well as if a manor of thy friend’s
    Or of thine own were.
    Any man’s death diminishes me,
    Because I am involved in mankind.
    And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
    It tolls for thee.

    It isn’t just poetry: John Donne was profoundly correct.

    So the seeker of tranquility must first look at himself and then take the wider world into account.  As to himself, he must consider not only his mind and body but also their interactions with the environment.

    Health in mind and body spring from pretty simple routines, but surprisingly few of us are willing to put in the effort.  The right foods, avoiding junk and alcohol. Exercise and relaxation. Avoiding excess (in anything).

    Balance in other words, a middle way. Again, common sense which doesn’t actually seem too common.  Some of course can’t follow these routines: poverty, illness, incarceration aren’t helpful to a balanced way of life.

    And as to our interactions with the rest of the world, it is difficult to imagine that a life of intolerance, cruelty, violence or aggression can bring much happiness.  Do unto others. And yet of course so many of us fail to take the point. Or refuse to. Or don’t want to.

    I find it difficult to imagine that Benjamin Netanyahu can congratulate himself on a life well lived. It is hard to believe he and his cronies have found peace or can sleep at night.

    But on a smaller scale, even the most humble seeker of peace won’t succeed unless he tries to live in harmony with those around him. To give out kindness not abuse. To think and act with decency and respect towards all those he comes into contact with.

    Holism: no man is an island. We are part of a biosphere, an ecology. Part of a society.  Even if we are of a hermetic bent, we can still ruin the life of those around us if we are careless in our words and actions.  And if we ruin the lives of others, if we treat animals with careless cruelty, if we don’t give a damn about our planet or our environment – then it is hard to imagine we ourselves will find much peace.

    But you have to start somewhere. We may not be an island but if we are to comprehend what we are and where we fit in, it is best to start with our own thoughts. Since no action happens unless it is born as a thought.

    Ignore the scientists who say we are  robots and that thoughts do not precede actions, that the only causality is physical. Atoms hitting atoms over billions of years so that we can retrace our history to the beginning and see our future to the end.

    We must assume causation from thought. We must assume that at our very centre we are our thoughts.

    In the beginning was the thought.

    If you cannot initially change your thoughts, you can at least watch them. And if you become proficient enough in watching, you soon find you can resist acting on uncharitable or harmful thoughts. Eventually such unwanted thoughts become less frequent. With luck they may disappear altogether.

    Right thinking is where we want to get to. Everything else follows from an internal benignity.

    Aligning your thoughts with a desired pattern of behaviour seems to become self propelling. As man thinketh.

    It’s always a work in progress of course. A lifelong effort to be what we would like to be and to behave as we would wish. No doubt some succeed more entirely than others, some more quickly and some less so.

    But to make a start, to begin to turn out life upside down and get it “right”, brings with it tangible, concrete rewards. Or so most of us are likely to find.

    No man is an island and without taking ourselves in hand, living well as a whole and as part of a whole, we are unlikely to find peace.

    It has taken me most of my life to reach such a conclusion, and it’s entirety to put my views even partially into action. Better late than never.