I’ve taken my time working through Michael Stone’s Awake In The World, not because it’s a slog, but because it’s the kind of book that invites (at least for me) dipping in and sitting with. And that’s a good thing…
Back in the early 90s I wrote a cd’s worth of songs with titles like “I Don’t Care,” “That’s Not What I Meant; You Just Don’t Understand,” “Take Me Home (and Make Me Feel Better)” and “Lie To Me.” My friend Stuffy, a really great song-writer, was going to produce it. He said of my lyrics, “You’re from the Lou Reed, “I walked into the room, crossed the floor and sat in the chair” school of song-writing; no metaphors or similes.” He meant it as a compliment (I think), but deep inside I felt like my writing must suck, lacking as it did any “poetry.”
When I read Michael Stone’s work – or damn it, just listen to any of his recorded talks – I sometimes feel a bit of that same thing. Truth is, I am often impressed by his imagery and his layered, sometimes dense verbiage, and at other times I think it a bit too dense. I lose the thread of his meaning because I get entwined in his rhetoric. (I know, I just used a metaphor; as I’ve aged, maybe I’m touching my inner poet). I’m amazed there are people who think this way!
Now, before I offer any thoughts about what is contained in this text, I’ll come right out and say that I know Michael. Not well; we’ve actually only been in each other’s presence twice as far as I can recall. But we run in many of the same circles. He runs a bit faster and harder, (he’s younger, obviously a bit pitta) but our circles definitely overlap. And, as you might imagine, there’s also a lot of overlap in our teaching: particularly, we are both looking into ways of taking traditional teachings from buddhism and classical yoga and making them relevant in our contemporary world.
I’ve read all his books now, and contributed to his anthology, Freeing The Body, Freeing The Mind and my precept study course reads his book on yoga ethics, Yoga For A World Out Of Balance, so it should be obvious I really value his work. And I must add, I’ve philosophical differences that I do not wish to whitewash. I’ve shared them with Michael a various times through Facebook and email.
My biggest criticism of Michael’s approach is that I think he reads too much of Michael into his buddha and Patanjali. We all do this, to some degree or another, but when I became aware of this within myself, I began to take measures against such a tendency. I think Michael, like one of his mentors, Stephen Batchelor, find it easier to tweak the distasteful bits of the tradition to fit their own views than just maintain a respectful critical perspective. This is an over-arching criticism that runs through much of his work, so I won’t offer many examples, but point out that the following comes from page 4 of the current text under review:
“Pre-Buddhist and pre-Patanjali Yoga are both concerned with looking beyond the here and now for salvation, whether in the form of the atman (soul), jiva (eternal self), or Brahman (origin of the manifest).”
Now, the rest of the paragraph from which this comes speaks to something we both agree upon: the need to stop “looking outside of ourselves for salvation or liberation.” Yes, the buddha and Patanjali taught to work with the body, with what is arising here and now, but still, for both, as world-renouncing yogis, ultimate salvation came in nibbana for the buddha, and kaivalya for Patanjali. These dudes did not value this world, this body, this nature, in and for itself. Both seem to have espoused what Georg Feurstein called a verticalist model of practice: in his words, “In, Up, and Out!” I don’t think we need to whitewash this reality to find great inspiration in the practices they offered, however.
A second criticism I have is that I believe Michael at times falls into a monistic view (most likely influenced by his practice of zen, which has often fallen into this trap), speaking of us all “being one with all reality” as well as, for one hell of an intelligent thinker, his tendency to denigrate thought, conceptualization and even language (a real irony considering his own volume of published words). This streak of anti-thinking/anti-conceptualization is most certainly from zen and is one of the more destructive aspects of that tradition. Again, it’s an irony often pointed out that for a tradition that seems not to value language, conceptual thinking and writing, zen has what may be the most extensive literary tradition! Thinking should never be seen as an enemy of yoga (practice OR the ‘state’) as it so often is as in the rhetoric of immediacy zen promulgates repeatedly. There is no such thing – and cannot be such a thing – as unmediated, direct experience of reality. As neural beings, such an experience is impossible, though many spiritual traditions harp on and on about it!
Many zen teachers talk of intimacy in a very polymorphous way as a kind of merger or dissolution of subject and object into a state of undifferentiated oneness. This is infantile and impossible. True intimacy requires differentiation. Relationship involves at least two, but what can happen is that we grow into inter-subjectivity: two “beings” relating to one another as subjects rather than as subject and object (and even here there are many of us who will vouch for the erotic strategy of playing with objectifying oneself or one’s partner). This is the foundation for mature relationship. I am not you; you are not me. And we are not separate.
Now, the irony is I, think – I cannot be sure – that Michael mostly means this as well. However, sometimes his language gets the better of his thinking and it becomes less than clear about this. Any talk of “pure awareness” as that which he enters into in “The Realization of Intimacy” is fraught with danger because I would argue there is no such thing. Purusha (which means “person” after all), despite what Michael says on page 21, most definitely does refer to an individual entity – whether one wants to call it a ‘soul’ or not is a bit beside the point.
A good example of where his monist streak shows is on page 47:
“Though your thoughts happen in unique configurations because of your past, your conditioning, and your DNA, it’s also interesting to see that these thoughts are all a process of the great mind, the transpersonal, interpersonal world in mind.”
Zen is filled with talk about “Mind,” “Original Mind,” “Big Mind” and other substantialist claptrap that really only serves as a stand-in for Brahman. Michael may be speaking metaphorically here, but I think it’s a dangerous metaphor. And one I don’t believe that can be founded on early buddhist tradition (nor Patanjali) though it is replete in the corruptions brought to buddhism by Chinese indigenous thought.
For a concise example of his transcendentalist leanings, I suggest reading “Ontario Snow Lineage.” It is this essay that I’ve penned the most marginalia in my copy of the book as a running argument with what he has to say.
And then, in both his “Preface” and his “Conclusion,” he speaks of wishing to instigate and participate in “a community-based inquiry,” and that “these teachings come from a nonhierarchical approach to teaching that replaces the teacher/expert at the front of the room and the student/seeker as audience with a democratic ‘open-source’ style of learning where lectures give way to open debate and group practice.”
Sadly, I cannot say that that kind of conversation comes across in this text. Perhaps the original settings these talks took place in did indeed involve such exchange; if so, this text unfortunately does not reflect it. Rather, Michael does often come across as “teacher/expert” with often sweeping generalizations and pronouncements as when he speaks of “The highest goal of modern Yoga” pointing out “how there is a natural intimacy embedded within everything no matter how large or small….” Aside from the fact that to speak of an intimacy embedded within everything seems like an awkward linguistic/conceptual phrase, there just may be some who disagree as to what the “highest goal of modern Yoga” might actually be! I’d suggest a bit more “I think…” or “I would argue…” before pontificating on how things are or should be.
I hope this all doesn’t come across as nit-picking or overly harsh. As I’ve said, if I didn’t respect Michael and his work, I’d not assign his books to my students nor would I take the time to write such an extended review. There are many places in the book where I’ve nothing but check-marks, and “well said” alongside his words. Perhaps someday the two of us can sit within a circle of practitioners and argue (not as in fight, but as the word “argue” is used in philosophy) our way to true intimacy. I’d like that.