So what is the secret of the golden flower after all?
I am not too sure whether I have understood the secret (if it can be understood at all) but I feel like I have definitely taken away some of its appeal. This sounds all very poetic, so what is this book all about?
The first part, constituting half of the book, are some lucid contextualisations of the ancient Daoist text “The Secret of the Golden Flower” by Richard Wilhelm and Carl Jung (both pioneers in making Eastern systems of thought intelligible to a mind embedded in Western concepts). Especially Jung’s writing presents a valuable primer in appreciating Eastern mysticism from a (Western) psychological perspective. He points out the profound issues that come with trying to integrate the accumulated wisdom from Eastern and Western thought traditions, when one is conditioned to think from one (being mostly oblivious of its fundamental assumptions), while being in the dark about the other. Facing profound truths, strange to one’s own thought tradition, usually leads to either the emphatic rejection of them on the one hand or a futile attempt in “cutting off the branch that one is sitting on”. The middle way of carefully investigating confluences, while not trying to abandon one’s culturally constructed viewpoint, is the goal according to Jung. He sees the Western emphasis on the conscious and rational as a compliment to the Eastern emphasis on the unconscious forces beyond the intellect, rather than a contradiction. Jung finds the common denominator in the “tremendous experiment of becoming conscious, which nature has laid upon mankind, and which unites the most diverse cultures in a common task.”
I could not agree more. Jung is again ahead of his time, in which us Westerners look desperately eastwards after the erosion of our own traditions of making meaning through encounters with the numinous. Since Kant, we limit ourselves to observable phenomena, laughing away speculations about the beyond. Jung presents an invaluable corrective to this cultural near-sightedness, while casually dropping one quote-worthy insight after another in this 50-something-page long primer to the actual “Secret of the Golden Flower”.
The flowery writing, mixed with a symbolism rooted in the mystical I Ging (Book of Changes), lets the message of the book appear quite obscured throughout vast passages of the text. However, it is precisely this refreshingly different manner of putting the way in which the mind needs to be still in order to perceive truth, that shines through the mist. We are simply not used to expressing ourselves in such metaphorical language when discussing epistemology and right conduct. This should not take anything away from the point the author is trying to make, but you should be prepared for the at times estranging formulations. At the end of the book, though, the message has become clear: In order to see and act with clarity, one’s consciousness needs to be brought to a state of non-duality. Here, the syncretism between the Buddhist practice of meditation and the Daoist wu wei (non-action) becomes evident: One needs to trace back the contents of one’s consciousness to the place they originated from - and stop there. Without further attempting to discern what the non-discerning consciousness behind all processes of discernment itself is, one should seek refuge in it. Through the act of observation - not of, but from this indivisible perspective or state of consciousness (whatever you want to label it), truthful action and thought arise paradoxically from non-action.
Although I have personally found much value in the writing of both Jung and the author himself, I could see that such philosophising might be hard to relate to, if it has no prior experience of mental states akin those described to stand upon. Despite its more obscure passages, my verdict would still be to go ahead and read this insightful book with an open mind.