Tom wrote:
> The process of transcending fear begins with the encounter with fear. Fear
> is not evil. Remember that the Warrior's root is in the basic goodness of
> everything. Thus we must find the basic goodness of fear. As the time of
> battle approaches, the Warrior's body prepares itself for peak performance.
> It turns on all its emergency systems, energizes its muscles, increases
> blood flow to the vital organs and away from areas likely to be damaged,
> heightens visual perceptions, decreases tactile perceptions, and so on.
> The body prepares for war.
>
> Yet, if the mind is not also prepared for war, the experience of the body's
> preparations are perceived as extremely uncomfortable. This is when our
> fear becomes our enemy. The real battle is forgotten as we start a phony
> battle inside ourselves. By trying to stop our body from activating its
> emergency systems appropriately we debilitate ourselves such that, when the
> real battle does begin, we are no longer entirely prepared. Thus we cannot
> do as good a job as we might. We're setting ourselves up to lose.
> "Fear is
> failure and the forerunner of failure."
>
> The problem with fear isn't much different from the problems we have with
> any other feeling. If our mind and body do not agree, we become
> distressed.
> We suffer. We are conflicted within ourselves and that conflict takes away
> our concentration. It weakens us. It unfocuses us.
>
> Trungpa notes that the experience of synchrony between mind and body feels
> like doubtlessness. This is not the doubt of having an unquestioned
> philosophy, as some evangelical preacher might have no doubts about his
> explanation of the world, but a sense of trust between mind and body that
> exists wholly in the present without any explanations being offered at all.
> The synchronized body and mind flow together and every movement is precise
> and seemingly effortless. In common parlance among athletes, it's "the
> Zone". While Trungpa doesn't mention it, the synchronization of mind and
> body is certainly a part of tantric practice.
>
> With the synchronization of mind and body there comes a rise in one'e sense
> of human dignity and power. Trungpa refers to it as the "Dawn of the Great
> Eastern Sun".
>
> That this image is very much like "The Golden Dawn" should not be lost on
> students of ceremonial magick.
>
> Trungpa insists that the Dawn of the Great Eastern Sun is an *experience*,
> not just a concept or an analogy. It is an intense sense of one's worth
> and
> belonging as a human being in the world that is itself sacred. It is, as
> Trungpa comments, a glimpse of the source of light and life in the world.
> We experience it as we would experience the dawn. It unfolds, develops,
> becomes uncovered. It is an experience of something that is seemingly
> eternal, a thing that was there all the time, as the sun is there all the
> time even though it was hidden from us for a time by the earth itself.
>
> My sense of what he's describing is a sort of kensho experience. It's not
> enlightenment itself but it is a temporary realization of what lies at the
> root of existence and it's very, very good. It's a vision, a spiritual
> experience that ties directly into the world itself.
>
> Trungpa expands upon the theme of how the vision of the Great Eastern Sun
> and applies it to the awakening of our ecological responsibilities. The
> citizen of Shambhala is a resident of the earth and has a function within
> it. That function is accomplished best by making sure that our actions
> disturb the homeostasis of our ecology as little as possible.
>
> He distinguishes between a "setting sun" approach to the earth, that of
> those who expect the world to die and even desire its death as a surcease
> from the suffering they feel, and the "rising sun" world, which expects the
> world to live and celebrates it in all its painful and joyful
> manifestations. The setting sun approach does not like earth. Earth is
> where bad things are, so they dump all their bad things there and try to
> live elsewhere until death frees them from the world entirely. There is no
> point in trying to prolong things by conserving one's resources. Just tear
> out what you want and use it and then throw the rest away. Cleaning things
> makes people dirty, so they shun the very act of cleaning. It's beneath
> them. It seems undignified, demeaning. It's something that those on the
> lower rungs of the social hierarchy do for us. Those who see themselves as
> part of a sacred whole see the world as a place where everything lives and
> does not fear getting dirty. Thus cleaning up is not undignified to them.
> It's simply someting one does to keep the balance.
>
> Gurdjieff often assigned his students to hard physical labor, cleaning and
> tending gardens. The more "demeaning" it seemed, the more likely he was to
> encourage it. This principle of actively encountering the messiness of
> life may well have been part of the lesson here.
Up to the end of chapter four, putting aside the weird definitions of
words like "fearless" and "heart", there is a development from how
developing an appreciation of "basic goodness" leads to a "genuine heart
of sadness" which in turn leads to "discovering fearlessness". But at
chapter five, as Tom suggests, he begins to recover the same ground
using different labels.
When I first read the book I found it misleading. It's easy to think
that a "synchronized mind and body" is unrelated to "discovering
fearlessness" and "the vision of the Great Eastern Sun" -- allowing the
reader to build a complex system around something that in reality is
very simple -- but as I understand it they're all pretty much synonymous.
To be fair, he does explicitly link fearlessness and a synchronized mind
and body by saying "[S]ynchronizing mind and body is also connected to
developing fearlessness." which is clear. But the only tentative link
between the Great Eastern Sun and basic goodness is when he says "The
basis of Great Eastern Sun vision is realizing that the world is clean
and pure to begin with. [...many paragraphs...] Still fundamentally
speaking, our existence is all good, and it is all launderable. That is
what we mean by basic goodness: the pure ground that is always there,
waiting to be cleaned by us."
I guess to the careful, considered reader these links will be apparent,
but upon my first reading of the book the links weren't clear and
chapter five onwards mislead me. It might be a useful exercise to link
the concepts in this book to Trungpa's "Cutting Through Spiritual
Materialism" or any other book covering this topic. It would aid against
the error of considering the things discussed as separate topics, when
in actuality they're discussing the same topic using many different labels.