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from taoism to tantra
Note on the author
Giovanni Andreoli was born in Irpinia in 1964. In 1982 he moved to Pisa where he completed his studies in telecommunications engineering. He has produced numerous scientific publications including a mathematical theorem on fractal geometry. Gradually trumpeted, he plays in some jazz combo and Tuscan orchestras.Assiduous Sahara traveler, in free time practice mountaineering.For about 10 years he has been involved in the philosophy of well-being and has been active in various publications of Oriental culture texts, among which a tao yoga practice manual and a treatise on the three treasures of Taoism.
Finished to print in June 2017
CONSCIOUS AND INCONSCIOUS
THE CLOSURE OF CIRLES
NOT WAY: comprehension
NOT WAY: Closure
NOT WAY: reality
This text deals with the psychological and emotional relationship we establish with our past and the effects this relationship has on our psychophysical well-being and the perception we have of ourselves and the world.
The psychological nature of man is a broad and complex topic and has always been the subject of attention by doctors and scholars.
Unfortunately, any prospect of analysis that we can visualize seems valid and effective only for a limited period of our lives. In the long run our vision slowly loses strength and we find ourselves reliving the feeling that everything remains unresolved, as suspended in a continuous and incomprehensible becoming.
This impermanent continuum pushes us towards a resigned misunderstanding of past events and future expectations. We often end up transforming the relationship we have with the perception of time by compromising the becoming of ourselves.
We will not go too far into issues that have been widely dealt with and discussed in the last century, as well as philosophers from religious and mystics of the most varied Western and Eastern traditions.
It will not be our concern to determine the primacy of the philosophical thought of illustrious illuminated as Jddu Krishnamurti over visions more structured than that of Gurdeijef or even more phenomenological such as modern and postmodern psychology (New Age).
We would inevitably be attracted to the irresistible charm of Krishnamurti, the master of the world, trailing transversally traces of his thought into extraordinary visions of Taoism and Tantrism, particularly kasmir.
In this text, we will simply try to think about certain aspects of the functioning of the human mind while not losing sight of the possibility of a deeper interpretation of the very meaning of life and, more generally, of the truth that the human mind often seems to veal at our understanding.
Limiting your mind's mistakes by using your mind is a difficult and often insidious journey that hardly produces unique and incontrovertible results.
In this text we will accept, despite our limitations of our cognitive instruments, and a momentary derogation from some absolute principles will allow us to propose an operational approach.The time we are talking about is far from being a deterministic physical phenomenon, but it is rather a soul-only feeling borrowed from the body.
Our intimate relationship with memories and the way these represent our mental corpus define our behavioral model.
The only possibility of understanding will only be obtained by tracing the relationship we live with time and reflecting on the consequences of this relationship on ourselves.
No personal narrative can be of help in making you understand the nature of the problem. So we will not find any other way than to stimulate reflection on ourselves to understand how the past facts have conditioned us and how they daily reappear in our lives.
We will deal with past events by interpreting them as "circles". A circle will represent an event not just for the shape of the circle, but rather for temporal development linked to a given collocation in our time-psyche dimension.
Therefore a circle is a human event placed in time, where time will be above all a psychological time, more human than technological, measured by psyche and conscience rather than by a simple and imperfect clock provided by technology.
Psychological time belongs to feeling and feeds on an unconscious reality capable of altering the dimension of feeling, being, and ultimately determining our perception of well-being.
We will not deal with short-term and short-term circles. And even less so, we will look for shortcuts to change the perception of the present as it might be with the use of more or less voluntary mantras or affirmations of whatsoever else are but projections and unnecessary reaffirmation of one's ego.
What is the ego if not the set of beliefs and behavioral structures fed by fears and desires anchored in our own memory?
We will avoid rewriting in the classical interpretations of the "consciousness of self" of esoteric memory developed by Steiner, Gurdeijef, and so fond of readers who are more avid than in popular distributors such as Salvatore Brizzi, their paladins of modern reinterpretations.
In this text, a circle will simply be any significant event in a man's life. Where significant is the measurement of the trace depth visible above all unconscious.
It will not be difficult to realize that by our nature we underestimate the impact these circles have on the perception of the present and the future. This lack can nourish mental states that over time they will turn into unhappiness, impotence and resignation. Suffering, on the one hand, is generated by ourselves for ourselves, but on the other hand the fracture underlying all dualism can only produce identification, create boundaries, generate categories that ultimately will make the transfer of suffering from A human being to another human being, and finally a group of human beings to another.
Being human, beyond our legitimate goals of survival and satisfaction, we cannot deny that life is something that is consumed in the moment Current, breathing after breath. Therefore, our only freedom is simply to perceive the real moment as the only truly accessible element of existence itself.
This is the only freedom that makes us feel part of one, the only possible religion that can overcome the 'Unstoppable dualism at the basis of human suffering. Everything, one, the divine nature of man, reality, tao, God, or how we prefer to call it, can only be placed in the present. Any attempt to move it forward or backward is just a mental process of man. Eddard Tolle, with his work "the power of the present," moving from Taoist principles that through inescapable action inevitably brings to the present, has beautifully represented the Benefits from a reduction at the present time of its entire vision. However, its subsequent formulation of a methodology that, though it may be effective on the physical and physical level, is still questionable, it can not systematize the thought itself.
Deciding whether to walk tomorrow on the mountains or if we are lying on the sand of the sea is not " Freedom, "but it is simply the realization of an autonomy that allows us to project forward what we feel to be our desires. A deeper plan" freedom "is nothing more than liberation from oneself as the only possible choice
Which can lead us to integration in the whole? If a truth exists, it is to be sought only at the present moment, certainly not in a recalled memory of something that was, or worse, of our mental projection in the future. The only possible reality, crushed by the overwhelmingness of a mind awkward and limited by its very nature, is the only extraordinary desire for something that instead we are less and less able to perceive.
Accumulating experience, moving forward with the years in so many cases makes us more and more out of this possibility. The relationship with the events of our past is intimate and specific to each of us, we will try together to understand how this enormous limit afflicts us at all times of our existence and how, if possible, reduce its effects. Finally, for those who want to deepen, we add three short appendages of philosophies that have discussed topics close to the subject matter of this text.
It was a nice day in April; I was walking on the small mountains that framed the beautiful Tuscan village where I live. The shades of green seemed to shine in the light of a complacent sun.
The clear sky, embracing the whole plain, descended to the sea where the Gorgona Island, immersed in the blue, seemed to be suspended in the void. On the other hand, as soon as they could see the soft coves of the tin and tin islands that seemed to stretch beyond the palm island.
It was a hot April, not like the ones I remember as a boy, when the water of the river was so cold that it could not bend it barefoot. It seemed summer but it was just cooler and with little windy folks who were cheerful in the army of pines who were guardians at the small dirt road.
The red earth of the little street was the same as the one near the nearby Caprona tower; where for a long time no longer rescued the arms of the knights, who with their blood defended the lands, the women and the children. Everything seemed to flow in peace; the street was beaten only by hikers and cyclists climbing up looking for the small ridges from where you admire the beautiful view of the Tuscan coast.
That day as a company I had only a little backpack to keep a few things, a little fruit, water and a slice of good-scented bread.
Was fairly serene, walked by listening to my body and breathing that moved along with the movement, like in an old timeless Sufi dance.
Despite the reassuring beauty of the places, maybe a breath was stolen and thoughts began to follow without logic mumbling as the lid of a pot with low fire. Resigned to this boring company I left my mind wandering unreservedly, enjoying the few moments of charm when the mourning stopped as if the pot wanted to breathe again.
One of the good things about my walks is that I knew from the start that I would stop and sit somewhere, but I never knew where.
Perhaps it is the pleasure of not knowing what will happen, as if life really could be an intriguing adventure where anything will still have its beauty and its unrepeatable uniqueness.
And then I walk slowly until something tells you to stop. And you just stay there, in an unlikely spot that has nothing special. A point that you and no one could know. It is as if the will to go beyond surrendered by leaving room for resting a body fatigued by the ascent.
That day, I did not look for a big stone with the view to the sea did not look for a special trunk to sit in the cool, but I stopped in the middle of the street. It was nice to stay there; silence was broken only by the noise of the leaves, some insects and little else.
At that point the road seemed like a tunnel dug between tall pines and colors, the scents were those of a mature spring. The asparagus had quickly left the place for the first cherries.
Sitting in the middle of the street, I looked at the pine tree that stood above all; its branches were above me as long protective arms. I thought that was my pine, the pine that would give me the shadow.