An Embodied Spiritual Journey

I was asked to write about my personal embodied spiritual journery. This is paper was for a class, but would not be considered scholarly.

I consider myself a deeply introspective person, who is continually evaluating, analyzing, and challenging my beliefs/ideas about myself and the world that I am, however so, intricately a part of. I will never arrive at a conclusion as to how I came to be who I am, whether it is a result of a particular divine energy that runs through me, or God, or some other factor, but I can rest upon the idea that I am the only consciousness I experience directly. I put my faith in myself, and it’s quite a strong faith. I think I’m amazing! I can do anything and I’m resilient as hell! I cannot contribute this all to myself, though. My existence is in no way separate from those things/people/events that are a part of my experiences, and for this reason I would never take back a single experience in my life. With that said, the rest of this paper will show and explore some aspects of the spiritual journey both my body and mind have taken in the first 22 years of life.

My spiritual journey begins with a few memories I have of myself as a four year old child, as well as the stories my mother and father, and siblings have told of me as an infant. My mother tells me I was a very independent child. According to her, on the introductory day at nursery school, which was meant as a day for the parents and children to meet the care takers and other children, I put my hands on my hips and said, “You can leave now.” She was shocked. She said, all the other kids would have cried if their mothers had left the room, but I was ready to experience life on my own, at the age of three. I didn’t want the security of mom and dad; rather, I believed I could handle things myself. I was confident in my own mind and body.

By the time I was 5, till about the age of 11, the energetic confident little person that I was, enters elementary school, where a definite shift occurs in the perception of myself, which is to say, my body and mind. Elementary school was the first time I was exposed to a large group of children, and I believe this is where the first stirrings of my feminist self occurred. Watching other children play and playing with them myself, I began to realize that many children adhered to stereotypical gender roles and enforced these ideas upon me. I didn’t like this one bit. So I rebelled. I would make the boys play with me at recess, and if they didn’t, I would chase them down and lock them in “jail,” (or the area under the slide). Needless to say, I did a lot more chasing than playing. I’d wear boy’s cloths, and I’d play with boy’s toys, as I did not want to be labeled a weak little girl, or be forced to play boring games like jump rope, and wear skirts in the middle of winter. I suppose this was the first time in my life I was treated differently due to my sex. I was previously very confident in who I was, but then suddenly, who I was, was no longer acceptable. Slowly my self esteem corroded. I didn’t fit in with the boys and I didn’t fit in with the girls. Not only that, but I was chunky for my age, and was often made fun of by of one my best friend’s brothers, and, indirectly, by her mother. I slowly began to hate myself and my body. My attempts to make myself a boy weren’t working and I didn’t know what to do. I was trapped, but it didn’t understand why.

Even at this point in my life I was very philosophical, as I began questioning the validity of Christianity. My elementary school years were not very cheerful. If I had visited a psychologist I would have probably been diagnosed with depression. However, I do not wish to rid myself of the suffering I experienced during this age, as this is the part of my life where I begin to question religion and the reason for my existence. Although I went to Sunday school, at the local Methodist church, I had not the slightest clue about Christianity. All I knew was that I prayed to this person who was my creator and who controlled everything. But I was so miserable with myself at this point that it was hard for me to fathom that God would create a world full of suffering. I hated being in this world so much that I vowed to never have children, so that they wouldn’t have to suffer as I did, and I was so disenchanted with the world that when my grand father was on the brink of death, I swore to God that I would worship Satan if he let my grand father die. By the time I was 10 I had lost nearly all faith in Christianity and was thoroughly confused about the nature of my existence.

By the age of 11 I was still very much concerned with issues of gender, yet at the on set of puberty, I began to conform to some concepts of femininity. Puberty set in at age 11 and I finally realized that I was female and there was nothing I could do about it. I dreaded becoming a woman. At least when I was a child I could dress up in boy’s clothing, look similar to a boy, and dodge those that thought I should be limited by my sex. But as my body took a more feminine shape I understood that I’d have to accept my body to some degree. I didn’t quite know what to do with my new body. I was no longer a chunky little kid; rather, I was a slender and petite young woman, and somewhat pretty. By 12, Boys started noticing me and accepting me more. I was glad someone was paying attention to me and accepted me at one level or another. I began wearing makeup and dressing in a more feminine manner to appeal to these boys. At this point in my life I was eager to explore my sexuality; however, some took my eagerness a little too far, and would bully sexual favors out of me. I finally managed after four years to shake them off, but it was tough, as I didn’t want to compromise my popularity. At the time this incident didn’t seem like such a big deal, but later in life I realized that this incident affected my view of men. I was already somewhat dissatisfied with being female, but I was also gaining an antipathy for men. By 13 I was happier with my body, but only because others liked it. However, I still wasn’t comfortable with being female, as I experienced how others disrespected the feminine body and were eager to dominate it.

After struggling with issues of gender for several years, I realized that Christianity was not for me. At 13 I knew that being female was not a limitation in and of its self. I believed I could do anything a man could. I did, however, hold a somewhat patriarchal view of the world, as I believed men were the standard that women should live up to. I denounced most things considered feminine, although I did attempt to look somewhat attractive and feminine. My interest in gender issues grew even deeper. I was deeply offended when someone told me I couldn’t do something because I was girl. Church was often the place where I was prescribed these gender limitations. I didn’t realize this when I was younger, but as I began to listen and comprehend the sermons of the preacher, these distinctions became clear as day. So, I renounced Christianity. I could not follow a religion that saw me as guilty for the sins of all of humanity, and wanted to put me below the status of a man. Why would anyone want to accept such a position in life? I was still forced to go to church when I visited my grandmother, but I used the time to further analyze and question Christianity. While there were also other reasons for abandoning Christianity, this was, and is, my main reason.

Towards the end of middle school I began hanging out with the “hippie” crowd, which allowed me to break away from the feminine stereotypes of beauty that I previously clung to for emotional security. The females in the group didn’t strive to look like the models on T.V.; rather, they were rugged. They didn’t wear makeup or bras, and their cloths were comfortable, well worn, and often handmade. For a while I still wore makeup, but I eventually realized that I didn’t need makeup to be attractive. I was hiding my face under an image, under imaginative paint, as if my real face wasn’t good enough. I also threw away the bra. At that point I didn’t really understand what they were for anyway. But that didn’t mean I was entirely comfortable with my body. I was still dealing with some very deep emotional issues concerning gender. There were some really low points, between the ages of 14 and 17, where I had panic attacks and would feel like I was trapped in my body. I would cry profusely, flail around uncontrollably, and would feel inclined to remove my cloths, as if removing them would remove my body. At those moments I hated being female. Yet, at other times, when I was with my friends, I felt the most comfortable being female. My friends were my refuge from the sexist world that I lived in. I think it was the contrast between the two that triggered these panic attacks and, at times, a deep dissatisfaction with my female body.

My most philosophical and spiritual moments occurred between the ages of 14 and 17. One of the reasons for this, besides the fact that I was growing up and learning who I was, was my new found interest in weed. Weed opened up many, many intellectual doors for me. When I was stoned, the world was absolutely beautiful. I wanted to learn everything I could about it. So, I questioned it. I questioned my existence, being, god, my parents, the government, society, etc. I was in love with this new found view of the world. I felt empowered by these acts of questioning. At this time I began to study Wicca. I was ecstatic to learn that there was a religion, which respected and valued women. I studied it and practiced it privately, as many thought I was aberrant (I even had to hide it from my parents). I eventually gave it up though, as I realized one religion does not embrace all of my religious, spiritual, and philosophical ideas. Rather, I was/am more content in embracing many different religions ideas. Altering my mental/physical state ultimately opened the door to a soft and graceful world that I had never experienced before.

At 18 I entered college, which allowed me to write about, and explore philosophically, gender issues. Taking classes with professors that were feminists at my community college, and minoring in women/gender/sexuality at St. Mary’s, has allowed me to formulate/articulate my ideas about gender in a way I’ve never be able to do before. Writing about gender has been incredibly therapeutic.

I should also mention a very pivotal moment in which my gender studies classes have helped me to accept femininity. From the time I 16, I was on a birth control called Depo-Provera. My boyfriend, was concerned about the effects this drug had on my body and encouraged me to find out the side effects. While doing some research I learned that a new warning had been up on the drug, which discouraged women from using it for more than 3 years at a time, as it had an attenuating effect on the bones. When I found this out I knew I had to get off this drug, but I was hesitant. Depo-Provera prevented me from having a period for the entire six years I was on the drug. In a way I felt superior to other women in that I didn’t have to “suffer” having a period every month. But with help of my gender studies classes and my boyfriend, I realized that the fear and anxiety I had about menstruating again was a result of my lingering negative view of femininity. Although, I was taking steps to accepting myself as a female, this was the ultimate moment at which I realized the hold society still had on my conceptions of femininity. It was then very easy to let go of these negative associations I had with being a female. Once I got off the drug I embraced having a period. I was female and I was proud of it. The patriarchy was keeping me down, making me feel horrible about myself. This freedom was/is a wonderful, wonderful feeling.

During my fourth semester at community college I began dating my current boyfriend (Jason), who opened my eyes to the philosophical and spiritual relation of the body to the mind. Jason was a massage therapy student at my college, and was very in touch with the body. He showed me how the physical state of the body affects the mental state of the mind. He emphasized drinking water, yoga, strength training, cardio, and eating for health of the body. I had some bad habits when I first meet Jason. I smoked, I drank sodas all the time, I never exercised, I could barely reach my toes, I was very out of shape, and out of touch with my body. While my mind was active with school, my body was sedentary, rotting away. Although I was initially resistant to his suggestions about health, I slowly gave in one thing at a time. I started drinking water, and I learned yoga. I soon began feeling better, and was pushing my body to new limits with my morning yoga routine. I eventually began circuit training and doing extra bouts of cardio. By breaking my old sedentary and destructive habits, I soon gained control over my physical body. Knowing that I could do this, I believe, is what allowed me to quit smoking. The more I explored and understood my body, the more I knew I could accomplish, and the happier and more satisfied I was with myself. I am currently in the best physical, and ironically, mental state of my life. I understand myself mentally and physically. Witnessing my physical achievements has shown me that I can achieve anything in life, whether it be a physical or mental.

At my current stage in life I finally feel like I’ve reentered that confident and energetic body that I had when I was four. Although I still re-lapse and feel like I need to wear makeup to be beautiful, or that I’m not the perfect size, overall I am happy with body. I will still chant and sing my feminists songs in the language of philosophy and I will continue to push my body to its limit, as this is the ultimate satisfaction for me. I love myself. I place all confidence and belief in myself. I am no longer the sad and depressed child, the confused and tortured teenager; rather, I am one with myself. I still have a lot to learn, but I feel grounded in my body, like this is the ultimate vehicle to my enlightenment.

This paper does not encompass my entire spiritual journey, as it is already long enough. But it does expose the main events in my life in relation to my body, as my life would be non-existent if it were separated from it. During the process of explaining the biographical events of my life, I drew upon my current perspective. I cannot, for sure, tell you my perspective of these events when these events occurred; rather, I can only speak of them in relation my current perspective. As I am a very philosophical and introspective person, these events have been deeply analyzed and scrutinized at many stages of my life. This, however, is my current interpretation.

Deciphering the Process of Learning in Response to Meno's Paradox

In Plato's Meno, Meno questions how a person can learn. Socrates responds by presenting his recollection theory, which states that we have all the knowledge of the world within us, but that this knowledge has been recollected and brought to the surface. In this paper I will: (1) show that knowledge is acquired through experience, (2) show that experiential knowledge dodges Meno's paradox, as one is never at a zero state of knowledge, (3) agree with Socrates that we are never at a state of zero knowledge, but deny that this knowledge is in our soul at all times, and (4) show that Socrates is guiding the slave boy in a geometrical experience, which ultimately ends with the slave boy acquiring knowledge.

All knowledge is acquired through experience, i.e. through the use of at least one of our five senses; thus, if a person does not have any senses, then he or she does not have, nor can acquire knowledge. Although I find it quite impossible to argue for an experiential theory of knowledge in a few paragraphs, I will at least present the basic argument that is most relevant to Meno's paradox. To begin, All physical objects can be directly sensed. For instance, a rock is a physical object that can be seen, touched, tasted, and smelt, and if the rock hits another object, can be heard. Abstract ideas are grounded in the physical; thus, one must have some knowledge of the physical world to have knowledge of the abstract. For instance, numbers are abstract ideas. One cannot conceive of a number if he or she does not see the relation of the number to the physical world. I can conceive of the number two if I can understand that an object and an object is the physical equivalent of the number two. Thus, abstract ideas are grounded in the physical.

One may then ask how a person can conceive of infinity if one is not present to experience infinity (i.e. he or she dies, or loses all sensory capacity). I will argue that the concept of infinity is a result of a combination of experiences. For example, I have experienced the sun rising and setting for my entire life. I know of others who are much older than I who have articulated similar experiences. Therefore, I come to the conclusion that the sun will rise and set forever, i.e. infinity. Thus, the concept of infinity is derived from the individual's personal experience, as well as from a collection of other individual experiences.

A singular experience is no good in and of itself; rather, several singular experiences must be compared if any future inferences are to occur. Let us say I reach into a bag, in a dark room, without any prior knowledge of what is inside the bag. I feel something, but I am not sure what it is. The object that I feel is round, I assume it is something like a ball, but the ball is not solid it feels squishy and grainy, and the outside of the ball like thing has a cloth texture. Now the adjectives I have used to explain this unknown object are taken from experiences in the past. I use my past experiences to gain knowledge of unknown objects. When I pull the object out of the bag and turn the lights on I confirm, through a combination of visual observation and touch, that the object I am holding is a hacky sac. Thus, knowledge is acquired through a combination of sensory experiences.

If knowledge is acquired through sensory experience then it could be said that one is never without some sort of knowledge; thus, my argument dodges Meno's paradox. Roochnik says of Meno's paradox, “ . . . if someone does not know what X is, she cannot learn what it is. The movement from ignorance, which can be conceived as a zero state of knowledge, to positive knowledge is impossible” (Roochnik 120). So, Roochnik understands that part of Meno's paradox requires one to go from a state of zero knowledge to an absolute state of knowledge. I will argue that one is never at a state of zero knowledge as one, who has at least one sensory capacity, has some form of experiential knowledge that one can use to conceive of a previously unperceived thing. For example, let's say I, who has all five senses, has no concept of calculus. But upon observation of a calculus problem I realize that it involves numbers, and is somewhat similar to algebra. By using past experiences with numbers and algebra I can somewhat conceive of what calculus is. I then take a course in calculus where I am shown the inner workings. I realize that calculus takes my previous knowledge of numbers, multiplication, division, and algebra and combines these ideas into a unique method for solving the problems of physics. The method is what is new and different to me, and not the founding principles. In order to learn calculus, I have to have a concept of algebra. In order to learn algebra, I have to have a concept of multiplication and division. In order to have a concept of multiplication and division, I have to have a concept of adding and subtracting. In order to have a concept of adding and subtracting, I have to have a concept of numbers. In order to have a concept of numbers, I have to have a concept of objects. And, in order to have a concept of objects, I have to have senses. Learning is not about going from zero to one, it's about going from one to 100. We can only learn as much as we can experience. Thus, an experiential account of knowledge works around Meno's paradox.

Socrates also believes that humans are never at a zero state of knowledge, but his argument posses a few fundamental problems. Socrates believes that knowledge is hidden within our souls and must be brought to the fore front of our consciousness if we are to utilize it in our present existence (81c). What is even more interesting is that Socrates also requires the soul, which is the carrier of knowledge, to have experienced the world before it has learned anything. He says, “As the soul is immortal, has been born often and has seen all things here and in the underworld, there is nothing which it has not learned . . .” (81c). Thus, the soul must have first experienced the world/underworld before it has learned anything. However, Socrates' argument causes some difficulty. For instance, if a soul must acquire knowledge through experience, then a person with a new soul, which is in the process of acquiring experience, would not have knowledge of the world or the underworld. Thus, Socrates' argument is faulty in that it requires knowledge to be innate within the soul, but also requires the soul to have acquired knowledge through experience.

Now that I have shown that knowledge is acquired through the comparison of two or more experiences, I will show that Socrates, in Plato's anamnesis experiment, is creating a mathematical experience for the slave boy, which allows the slave boy to answer the problem.

By using only yes or no questions, Socrates is able to guide the slave boy towards the correct answer. To begin, Socrates asks, “A square then is a figure in which all these four sides are equal” (82c). The slave boy, who is uneducated, most likely has a concept of a square, as he has probably come into contact with similar objects before. However, the slave boy may not have, up until this discussion with Socrates, realized that a square had four equal sides. So, when Socrates asks if this is true, the slave boy, by understanding what a square is and what is meant by equal sides, puts the two concepts together and can then conceive of a square having four equal sides. If Socrates had simply asked the slave boy to define a square, then the slave boy may not have been able to identify a square as an object with four equal sides. Thus, by using yes or no questions, Socrates is able to guide the slave boy towards the correct answer.

Socrates' question format, which he uses throughout the anamnesis, explains why Socrates has to restart his argument when the slave boy answers one of the few questions, which do not require a yes or no answer, wrong. As I have mentioned before, Socrates uses questions to suggest a possible answer, which the slave boy is then able to confirm through a comparison with his past experiences. However, the boy eventually fails to answer the question correctly (82d). This is either due to the boy's lack of experience or to Socrates' inability to word the question correctly. At this point Socrates back tracks and words the question differently and incorporates a drawing which explicates what Socrates is trying to show the slave boy (82c). When Socrates rewords the question and utilizes his drawings, the slave boy is able to answer the question correctly. Thus, Socrates has set up an experience which guides the slave boy towards the correct answer. After all, the slave boy would not be able to solve the geometry problem if he did not have this discussion with Socrates.

I have shown that learning is not about going from 0 to 1, but from a few pieces of knowledge to a plethora of knowledge through the comparison of our experiences. By showing this, I have shown a way around Meno's paradox and the problems with Socrates' recollection theory. I have also attempted to show that Socrates created an experience in his anamnesis experiment, which allowed the boy to acquire new concepts.

Wu-Wei

In this paper I will show how an ideal Daoist sage incorporates wu-wei within his or her life. I will begin with a general explanation of how this person (a Daoist sage) would view the self. I will then show how one may possibly come to an understanding of wu-wei, and then show the effect of embracing wu-wei. Finally, I will explain how the sage can extend wu-wei to all parts of his or her life.

The self, according to Daoist perspective, “is an opening that perceives the world” (Prof. Park, Sept. 26, 2005) and is integrated within the world. In other words, the self is the focal point in which a person gains experiential knowledge of the world. The Daoist sage considers the self a part of the ever changing, fluctuating, impermanent world. When a person perceives the world, she is in direct connection with the environment around her. She is no way separate from her environment, as she only exists in relation to it. In other words, I could not exist apart from food, water, and shelter. Nor could I come to this point in my life without the care of my parents as an infant and child. My existence depends on my environment. Chuang-Tzu says, “‘Without an Other there is no Self, without Self no choosing one thing rather than another’” (51). In other words, the self is not one thing, and the environment the other; rather, the self is deeply connected to the environment and should not be seen as an individual entity.

A Daoist sage would live a life deeply connected to the environment, but to do so she must practice wu-wei. Wu-wei can be considered a power one embraces that allows one to move with ease, to “go with the flow,” to work with the Dao. Embracing wu-wei requires practice and focus. A great musician begins by learning the language of music, the theory, the basics. But these things alone are not what made the musician great. Scales are the foundation of all music, but understanding what to do with the scales is a process that cannot be explicated through steps. A musician must then absorb his or herself in the world of music, playing all the time, watching others play, listening to others play, perfecting his or her techniques, so that he learns how he can use the scales. Only through this absorption will a musician become great. Chuang-Tzu provides the example of Cook Ting, the butcher. He says, “When I first began to carve oxen, I saw nothing but oxen wherever I looked. Three years more and I never saw an ox as a whole. Nowadays, I am in touch through the daemonic in me, and do not look with the eye. With the senses I know where to stop . . .” (63-4). Thus, in learning to live life with ease, or with the Dao, the sage must learn how to absorb the self in her surroundings, like the musician does. The sage must learn wu-wei.

Chuang-Tzu provides many examples of people who have embraced wu-wei in one way or another, but I will focus on Cook Ting. Cook Ting, as mentioned before, is a good example of a daemonic person (or one who has embraced wu-wei). Cook Ting says, “‘I rely on Heaven’s structuring, cleave along the main seams, let myself be guided by the main cavities, go by what is inherently so. A ligament of tendon I never touch, not to mention solid bone’” (64). Cook Ting, when wu-wei is with him, stops thinking about the method in which he will cut the oxen; rather, he is guided by wu-wei, or by the nature of the oxen, and stops thinking. Wu-wei is the power which Cook Ting has embraced to do his job with extreme efficiency. He says, “A good cook changes his chopper once a year, because he hacks. A common cook changes it once a month, because he smashes. Now I have had this chopper for nineteen years . . ., but the edge is as though it were fresh from the grindstone” (64). Cook Ting uses his knife with such grace that it never even dulls. This is what the Daoist sage aspires to, greatness and ease within life, the ability to move through life without being dulled by suffering.

The examples of wu-wei that I have given all relate to an expertise in one particular activity; however, wu-wei can be extended into the everyday life of the sage, when the sage accepts that the world is in constant flux and focuses on the moment at hand. All things within the world, and the world itself, are constantly coming into being and going out of being. The sage must accept that all things are impermanent. To do otherwise would be going against the Dao and against wu-wei, which would cause suffering. Maintaining a mind frame that believes, even subconsciously, that a part of the environment will not change is going against wu-wei in that one cannot absorb oneself completely in the environment (go into a wu-wei state) if he or she cannot accept change. Thus, the sage must accept that her loved ones will one day die, that the security she finds in her home may one day be destroyed. However, wu-wei allows one to deal with constant flux. By absorbing the self within the environment, one can sense the changes that will come and that will go, and learns that if one interrupts the flow of change by trying to stop it either physically or mentally, then suffering will occur.

I have given an account of wu-wei in relation to the sage, who has incorporated wu-wei into her everyday life. Understanding the standpoint from which the sage views the world, i.e. as a focal point that senses the environment, allows one to understand the power of wu-wei in accepting and dealing with the impermanence of the world.