The Mountaintop: Yin Atop Yang

The Mountaintop

By Larry Bloom, Sandy Springs, Georgia

T’ai Chi Chih practice seems to kindle my creative energy and the sprouting of spiritual seeds that have long been asleep. This invigorating wind of well-being is accompanied by a subconscious sense of improved balance between my own yin and yang elements – negative and positive, analytical and creative, weak and strong. The pleasant sensation inspired me to conceive imagery for some of the TCC movements and muse about their meaning – most recently Daughter on the Mountaintop.

At the top of this TCC movement I imagine our naturally firm forearms outline a mountain while our supple crossed wrists represent the daughter on top. That’s the yang and yin I am attempting to portray in my modest sketch while keeping the imagery simple and flowing. I find that practicing TCC prior to creative activity encourages the effort of no effort while reinforcing my intellectual courage to share the art of no artist.

Mountaintops are one of the most triumphant symbols of overcoming obstacles, spiritual rising and progress in any endeavor. Is it coincidence that Justin selected a mountain when he named this movement as well as his book titled Climb the Joyous Mountain? And why did he add a seemingly contradictory quality with the daughter on the top? I looked to Justin to shed some sunlight on this. Here are some quotations from Climb the Joyous Mountain that resonated with me as I pondered the questions.

The Zen Priest Ogata gave me a Zen lecture by saying, “Anybody can be the Small Hermit. Be the Big Hermit.” Much later, meditating in the foothills of the Himalayas, I thought of this and said to myself, “What am I doing up here being the Small Hermit? I should be able to do this at the corner of Broadway and 42nd Street.

There is only one mountain, but to the surveyor, it appears in different sections. So, too, the one existence appears in innumerable ways to us, depending on where each of us stands. The world truly is a subjective experience, not an object to be perceived the same by all.

If we place ourselves above others, we cannot see the absolute value of all. If we do not realize that we exist in total relationship, we are separated from others. And so we grasp only what appears favorable, hoping everything else will disappear. In so doing, we divide the Joyous Mountain into plots and subdivide it into yours and mine, good and bad.

If we want an apple tree, we must plant the apple seed. We cannot expect effect without suitable cause. If we want the serenity of untroubled mind, we do not do away with death or trouble. That is impossible. To live is to have worries, and eventually, to die. We change our attitude toward things, empty ourselves of our previous habitual responses, and, cultivating a new soil ground, find it empty and ready for the new seed. This spiritual seed then makes it possible for us to climb the joyous mountain.

Pleasure is a reaction. You have just fulfilled some desire, experienced a sensory or psychological gratification, or had some suffering lifted from your shoulders. In each case the pleasure is temporary, and must be renewed again and again if we are to pursue the familiar pleasure-pain syndrome throughout our lives.

Joy is your natural state, although it is usually clouded over. When the Mind returns to its natural condition, you are joyful. Such Bliss is not the result of anything. “To the Mind that is still the Universe surrenders.” The Life Force itself is joyous. All we have to do is get ourselves out of the way and enjoy it.

Does writing about the Joyous Mountain make one joyous? I don’t know. What do I know?

All one can do is bring the palms together in a salute to all beings. May they lose the attachment that makes for suffering. Life can be good – if we plant the proper seeds. The way of joy is best. Climb the Joyous Mountain.

All metaphors aside, when it comes to serious mountaintops any professional mountaineer will tell you they are wonderful places to visit but you really don’t want to stay there. I’m not referring to the oversized hills some call mountains, rather those peaks that jut up and slice high into the sky like Mount Everest or Kilimanjaro. Those mountaintops are cold, the air is thin and the wind blows. The weather changes on a dime and there is no shelter. Getting there is an exhilarating experience, but you need to get started downward almost as soon as you finish going upward – or you could run into trouble. Maybe the daughter on the mountaintop is perfectly placed after all.