Thursday, March 29, 2012


Spiritual adventures, especially meditative practices, are often aptly labeled by critics as exercises in high-falutin' dissociation... a navel-gazer's jamboree.

An internet dictionary defines "dissociation" in part as "a state in which some integrated part of a person's life becomes separated from the rest of the personality and functions independently." So, if I get it right, the day-to-day affairs might be separated from some supra-mundane light; bad stuff might be deluded and good stuff receive accolades; my stumble-bum activities might be locked down in favor of some shining "Buddhism" ... something like that.

Lord knows the effort is sometimes made and sometimes made for whole lifetimes ... light and dark, God and man, praise and blame, up and down. Get thee behind me, Satan!

But notice the definition: "A state in which some integrated part...." How could any part of anyone's life be "integrated" ... or "separated" either, for that matter? How many lives does anyone lead, assuming they aren't certifiably nuts?

Who separates him- or herself from what? With two arms, two legs and one life, how is such dissociation (which I am probably using badly) possible? Popular? Sure. But possible?

The good thing about meditative processes, for my money is that they can lead anyone in one side of the dissociative hobby and out the other.

Of course, I could just be dissociating.

It all reminds me of the old joke-laced conundrum: "What's the difference between a duck?"

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