What a book! It wanders everywhere, and provides an excellent example of raising our admiration for outstanding literature anywhere, elsewhere.
Take for instance, the topic evil, nowhere is a definition of evil laid out in Mr. Richo’s book; however overlooking this fact, a regrettable omission by the author, we read the following:
“The presence of goodness does not permanently eliminate evil but removes it in the moment. Our work is to acknowledge good in spite of evil, not instead of it. We stay on guard, since it can always reappear in our choices. We have often heard that wholeness/goodness triumphs over fragmentation/evil. The resurrection motif in so many religious traditions is a metaphor for this victory of wholeness. Jesus rises after being destroyed, so something in him cannot be destroyed: absolute goodness. This is a way of saying that the Self cannot be destroyed, especially not by the ego. Thus, when we do the work that leads to wholeness, we are not only protecting ourselves from evil but also becoming less vulnerable to it. This must be why so many martyrs welcomed death with joy. They knew that the body buzzards were circling overhead to devour was not the one that mattered.” (Nonetheless, the buzzards certainly delighted in a full meal, however rotten.)
Otherwise, and more aptly put, via the voice of Satan in Mr. Orhan Pamuk’s “The Red Door”:
“As some will claim, at that time Almighty God and I made a pact. According to them, I was helping to test the Almighty’s subjects by attempting to destroy their faith: The good, possessed of sound judgment, would not be led astray, while the evil giving into their carnal desires would sin, to later fill the depths of Hell. Therefore what I did was quite important: If all men went to Heaven, no one would ever be frightened, and the world and its governments could never function on virtue alone; for in our world evil is as necessary as virtue and sin as necessary as rectitude.” Or “If only my angry and shallow enemies, who never tire of condemning me, would remember that it was the Almighty Himself who granted me life until Judgment Day, while allotting them no more than sixty or seventy years. If I were to advise them that they could extend this period by drinking coffee, I know quite well that some, because it was Satan speaking, would do the exact opposite and refuse coffee entirely, or worse yet, stand on their heads and try pouring it into their asses.”
Indeed, we read upon the psyche and ego in Richo’s book:
“The coconut is another apt symbol of the psyche, the hard shell of ego outside and the milk of the real Self inside, the fruit of opposites. The work is to crack it open without losing the valuable inner core ad still find a use for the remaining shell. Even in pieces it has value, since the way things appear is only part of how they exist.”
Otherwise, more aptly put, via Ms. Nin in “The Artist as Magician”:
“I learned from this that in order to resist the sorrows of human experience we needed another world. Unfortunately our culture kept calling that world an escape, making it a most unvirtuous thing to do, to escape from the present. To escape from everything was really not taking part and not being involved in life. I don’t understand how it happened but it was part of our ideology, and there was a great taboo on anybody who was about to move away from catastrophe. It wasn’t realized that in the moving away we encounter was necessary as an anti-toxin. We need anti-toxins. We need a place in which to reconstruct ourselves after shattering experiences.”
I have certainly paused for thought over sentences such as:
“Both coal and diamonds are ultimately carbon, the same substance, visible differently at the two ends of the same spectrum, like our bodies and our world.”
Books, I find, deserve to move on and in this generous spirit, after much deep meditation, I thought it best to leave “Shadow Dance” to its unique fate under the statue of Spinoza on Waterlooplein in Amsterdam.