Last year I read an interesting, if quirky, work called The Trickster and the Paranormal, by George P. Hansen, an exploration of the perception and reception of paranormal phenomena in Western culture. It introduced me to the work of sociologist Max Weber, and in particular, his concept of charisma.
The term ‘charisma’ will be applied to a certain quality of an individual personality by virtue of which he is considered extraordinary and treated as endowed with supernatural superhuman, or at least specifically exceptional powers or qualities. These are not accessible to the ordinary person, but are regarded as of divine origin or as exemplary.
Weber studied the structures of societies. He used his concept of charisma to explain the genesis of authority structures in societies, and explored how the pure, charismatic form of authority developed into and interacted with other, more routinized and structured forms of authority and control. Jesus and the Buddha were charismatic individuals who held authority by force of personality; Christianity and Buddhism are institutions that grew from their contributions, and not necessarily by following their examples.
Anyway, most of that actually sounds a bit boring. But Hansen’s work was about exploring the limits to what most of us accept as real. Things like paranormal phenomena exist on the fringes of consensus reality, in a liminal state. This is exactly the place from which Weber’s charismatic authorities draw their power.
Plotting out my identities on a graph in Part 1 helps me to see some of my strengths and weaknesses visually. But the whole concept of the diagram also illuminates some of the blind spots in the way I think about myself—namely, that I feel particularly attached to having successful identities that are clearly labeled. Thus the identities themselves become traps, because being a Healer or a Businessman ultimately means playing that role successfully, rather than engaging in the continual activity of healing or business.
Fixating on the identities gives them power and allows them to place demands that eventually come to define my experience, instead of vice versa. It traps my energy and my power in the identity. I become controlled by the puppet, forgetting that it is my own hand that animates the puppet.
Incidentally, I sometimes wonder how I would handle worldly power. I used to want to be President. I wonder now, given that kind of power, how I could possibly resist corruption. Having power on that scale isn’t just about the ability to have or do things. Worldly power is always wedded with a particular identity; step outside the bounds of that identity and you risk losing that power.
Ultimately, the identity begins to own you, because you accept the vulnerabilities of that identity—that which threatens to topple you from power—as the vulnerabilities of your very soul. Lost in identification, you make devil’s bargains to keep power, justifying it by telling yourself that only by staying in power, maintaining political capital, and retaining a strong upper hand can you be in a position to generate positive change.
Crossposted from my stories blog, This Sublime Life, just because I felt like it. It’s a beautiful story.
I had three months off to travel the world.You get this in Oz if you work seven years for same company, its called long service leave.
I go to London and on first day I went to Big Ben. I want to get the standard tourist shot – me and BB (cheesy but I am an Australian and it is the other side of the world!). Was about to ask this guy to take my photo and he lay down on the grass and shut his eyes.
I turned to the nearest person. It was a girl reading a paper and asked her to take my photo. Got talking to her. Her first day in London too. We decided to have a look around and got lost as both of us have terrible sense of direction, spent the day immersed in laughter and saw Lloyds building about 10 times unintentionally. She was Quebecois and spoke hardly English. Never the less had a blast.
Agreed to meet at Big Ben next day. Next day, I’m standing there and thinking, “who is that beautiful girl waving at me”… Turned out to be the girl from the day before. To be honest the first day I hadn’t really thought much about her looks as I was jet lagged to hell and thought it was just a few hour wander around London before we went our separate ways.
I found this interview with a martial arts master named Master Fook Yeung. I’ve never heard of him, but the interview gives some interesting perspective on the old culture of Chinese kung fu schools, which tears down some of the romance of it.
“The training was brutal, beyond what practitioners are willing to endure today. If you fought, your life was on the line, you could be crippled or killed. Now-a-days it doesn’t matter how skilled you are, you can’t defend yourself against a bullet. Today practitioners compete for prizes, first places and better health, the reality and training is very different than if your life depended on it.”
Mr. Yueng, being in the Opera, had the opportunity to study with many martial artists and has learned many styles. Tai Chi, Pa Kua, Wing Chun, several Mantis systems, Crane, Monkey and many more (he practiced with Sun Lu Tang’s students and also played the part of the Monkey King in the Opera).
I asked him if there was one instructor that stood out above the rest that he looked up to, or was a model for him.
There’s a problem I’ve been trying to solve that’s been very difficult to articulate, define, or even perceive. There are two ways it manifests. The first is in the energetic overcharge I keep mentioning. The second is in my lack of more intimate engagement with the world around me. They’re two sides of the same coin, like a dam keeping the lake separate from the desert. The lake stagnates while the desert withers.
I’ve tried any number of exercises and energy manipulations, to no avail. What I return to is that any energy issue is at root an issue of character development. So the question is, where am I imbalanced on a level of character, morals, or beliefs?
For the purposes of solving this problem, the answer requires thinking of my “self” as more than the property of me, the individual. It’s a matter of understanding the process by which this “self” interacts with my environment, i.e. what keeps my qi compressed close to my body on the one hand and evacuated from its surroundings on the other.
Actually, when I look at it, this sort of division is in keeping with the pervasive division and specialization I see all around me. It exists to such a depth that few people really see it.
I’ll simplify the types of specializations that pertain to my experience into four:
A guy named Chris Martenson has put together a video series on the coming collapse of the economy, energy, and environment. It’s pretty understandable and a good primer for understanding the dynamics driving current events. He doesn’t get as in-depth to many of the individual details as others do, but he’s put together a very comprehensive overview and outline of all of the intertwining influences that drive his central thesis: The next twenty years will be nothing like the last twenty years.
Qigong and tai chi instructor Gary Clyman, who I mentioned in my previous post, followed his visitor stats back to my blog and took umbrage at what I had written about him. Here’s our exchange:
Note: I decided to leave this post as it was originally written, but please also read the follow-up post, A Response from Gary Clyman.
Last year I mentioned that I practiced a nei gong system for a few months. I think it’s time I talk about how I started it, why I abandoned it, and the sordid details about it that I’ve discovered recently. It makes for an interesting little drama. This really hasn’t constituted very much of my time or energy lately, in fact there are so many other important and complicated things happening right now; but maybe that’s why this makes for a simpler and more amusing thing to write about as a blog post. So, enjoy.
I hadn’t named names before; now I will. I was browsing on a Shaolin discussion forum a couple of years ago when this guy started posting, who called himself Wu Jing. His real name is Elijah Wilson, and he was purportedly the lineage holder of the “Thunder Mind” school. He had the most incredible stories about what he could do with his qi, and made me curious. I contacted him and he said that he’d be willing to train me by sending me a DVD and giving me assistance by phone, but that the first level would cost several hundred dollars.
I usually don’t comment much on fiction on this blog. That’s because much of it is just pleasant distraction, not much to do with the themes covered here.
I did get caught up in the Lost maelstrom, and have just finished watching the series finale. I just have one thing to say about it, and that is that I think the main reason I have liked the show is that it’s very evocative of Faery tales and the realm of Faery, where there are mysteries and unwritten rules and magic and time paradoxes. Faery enchants.
Teachers of Faery tradition like R.J. Stewart and Orion Foxwood assert that connection to Faery is particularly important in this day and age because it reconnects us with those parts of our souls we’ve misplaced, with the living earth which we’ve desecrated, and with other beings with whom we share that earth.
For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of the world. But if we have food and clothing, with these we shall be content.
Those who desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare, into many senseless and hurtful desires that plunge men into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is the root of all evils. It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced their hearts with many pangs.
But you, man of God, flee from all this, and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, and gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses.
