The Sacred Mountain

Written by Mikhayah
Sunday, 28 January 2007

Every religion has a mystical dimension to it. Judaism has Qabalah, Islaam has the
Sufi `urafaa’, Taoism has those who accept more than the cultural (and often
tribal), interpretations of the Tao, Buddhism, those who adhere to more than the
cultural affiliation with their religious nominalism, Hindus have those who see
the Pantheon of “gods” as nothing but allegory for the Divine Singularity of
Being, Christianity too has the mystics of an era long gone; Saint Catherine of
Genoa, Hans Denk, Meister Eckhart, and the notorious Saint Francis of Assisi.

All of these hold relatively similar views; so similar in fact that in many cases
the linguistic phraseology of one could easily be swapped out for that of another
cultural manifestation of “mysticism,” and there would be no demonstrable
difference in what was actually being said. This is certainly a good thing.

Those who are able to penetrate beneath the layers of sociological baggage that so
often obfuscates the meaning underlying man-made religion, are the heirs to a
Universal truth that is bound by no language, no culture, and even no specific
prophet. However, there is a problem that lies just below the surface of this
purported doctrinal “Enlightenment.”

Among the Exoterists, there is constant observable and notorious bickering,

leading to sectarianism and all to often murder in the name of one’s chosen
conceptualization of “God.” Those proclaiming “mysticism” in these same
traditions, often see themselves above this (and there is no doubt that to some
degree they are). However, a more passive form of conflict arises with the
question of “which mystical tradition should I follow?”

When the seeker comes to a Rabbi, Shaykh or Priest and asks this question, there
is more often than not a sales pitch for why their chosen path is the path which
should be followed. Conversely, and somewhat more rarely, there are those who
spiritually “throw up their hands” and suggest that the seeker should follow
whatever path most culturally fits with them. The latter of the two can be said to
have a somewhat less attached perspective than the former. However, in neither
case is there a true sense of Universalism; as it must be understood in the
context of unfettered spiritual discipline.

It has often been said, in various traditions, Buddhist, Qabalist, and the like,
that the goal of spirituality, of religion, even of “mysticism” (if you will), is
akin to the goal of climbing to the top of a Mountain. The Mountain itself has
many possible ways up it, and so too – the allegory purports – are there many
potential paths up it. Nevertheless, the point is that once the climbers have
reached the top, they are all in good company with each other…

This illustration is not flawed so much as it is incomplete. Being inherently

circular in nature, the analogy of the Mountain is reduce and simplified to the
inorganic concept of a conical shape; with a base of 360°. That being said, a
Mountain is organic in nature, and the 360° are flattened and distorted along
ridges and crevices that are anything but uniform.

Just as the Mountain itself forms naturally and inorganically, so too do the paths
that trek up its steep face. All paths form by the sojourner either treading a
path beneath them – thus more easily facilitating the path of those who follow
them – or by hacking away the growth to form a path. It can be said that the
Prophets themselves were those given the tools, a machete of sorts, to carve out a
path for their followers. All prophets, being born on different sides of the
mountain, started up the easiest and most route before them (according to the
relative information they had of the geography of the Mountain itself).

Thus, we are left with a mountain bearing the scars of many paths carved out along
the ascent. The problems arising in the absence of these prophets, who etched out
these paths, are many. In some cases the paths lead to an expansive plateau; where
those who journey thus far set up camp and trek no further (believing there lies
no further path ahead of them). Some amongst them are aware of a continued path,
but have navigated it for a few yards and decided that it would be far easier to
remain on the plateau with their friends and family who have set up camp. If they
began their journey with such individuals, or if they got to know them along the
way, then it can certainly be a difficult decision for them to continue on with
out them. Most who know of the path's continuation, therefore, determine with a
sense of deliberation, to remain behind.

In other cases, the paths lead to a headwall, where the face of a mountain
steepens dramatically; in which case only the very experienced climbers can
progress further. There is more path ahead, but to reach it one must be able to
overcome the obstacle in their way. These are the paths carved out by the
exceptional climbers who had exceptional companions on their journey. For them it
was not impractical to make such a climb. However, to climb in such a manner
(often the most direct route), the leader must assemble companions for the climb
based upon their quality, not upon quantity.

Some paths zig-zag to the left and to the right, in order to make the ascent less
abrupt. Some paths take an even longer time to ascend. They circle around the
mountain, almost spiraling upwards. They encircle the mountain many, many times,
giving names to each spiral of ascent. They continue on in this manner until they
reach the point where circling no longer becomes possible. At that point they must
either chose a direct path, or they must bring their ascent to an abrupt halt.

In most cases, the climber will climb the path that his father, and his
grandfather climbed before him. If you ask him why he climbs this way, he will
either answer you with introspection – admitting that he climbs it because it is
the only path he knows – or he will relay to your some old stories that his
Grandfather passed down to him about how only their path will reach the summit,
and why those on other paths are fools.

In other cases, the climber will become more skeptical of their father’s path, and
will forsake it for another one once an obstacle is reached. They will scoff at
their “foolish” ancestors, and will abrogate their way for the way of a path more
remote to them. They assure themselves that on the other side of the mountain
there simply must be less obstacles to face.

As time marches on, these paths carve out a strange network of mazes along the
face of the mountain. To those near the bottom looking up, it seems an veritable
labyrinth to enter. The more rational-minded tell themselves that the likelihood
of successfully reaching the summit is improbable. Most of them turn around and
return to the cities and towns that do not concern themselves with making retreat
to the Summit. Others are aware of the stories of their Grandfathers, and they
assure themselves that their path will take them directly up the mountain. Once
they step foot on the path, they immediately shut down all objectivity and become
mockers of those on other paths in the case of the Exoterists, or become salesmen
for the Esoteric:

“Here, here on this path, we have a secret route that is better than even the
other paths' secret routes. Come join us on this path.”
Within all of these complexities lies the problem that the mystical analogy does
not address. The fact that these paths do all lead to the Summit does not in any
way simplify things, nor resolve the conflicts that emerge when these paths
intersect along their ascent.

When two paths intersect, more often than not the climbers face off and refuse to
let the other pass. In some cases they will insist that the person they
encountered convert to using their path. In the worst cases still a fight ensues
and one, or both of them are killed in the process…

Nevertheless, the mystic tells themselves that this is reality of the mountain
itself and that it cannot be avoided. The mystics so often adhere to this notion
that the following of these individual, winding, twisting and turning paths is the
only way up the mountain. However, time brings about a change in what is best.
This is the process of evolution; whether biological, sociological, or even
spiritual.

As a new generation gazes upwards at the labrynth of paths, there are some who
begin to question. They do not question the validity of the paths, but they do
question the exclusivity of the paths:

“Look at the way the paths all cross each other. Look at the twists and turns that
they have in common; running parallel to each other in some places. Look at the
points where the intersect and then diverge; often both in directions that soon
thereafter encounter obstacles. Look at all of the fighting, look at all of the
killing at this point and that point.”

A new idea, beyond that of mere acceptance of the paths’ validity, begins to
emerge…

“Why not avoid these places of conflict altogether? Why not make certain to unite
along the ways that these paths run parallel? Why not avoid the places where the
paths run into difficulty that is easily bypassed by this path here and that path
there? Why simply follow into problems that we see are so easily avoided by this
path or that path?”

This new generation realizes that the paths that came before had to come for them
to observe and analyze what worked and what did not work for them. They do not
hold blind affinity, nor hatred for any path. Instead, they come together to carve
out the most straight and direct path foreseeable up the mountain. They realize
that, through their efforts in carving out this direct route, the subsequent
generations (who can see past the blind allegiance to the legends of superiority
passed down by their forefathers), with have a safer and more direct path. They
commit their work to them (not merely for their benefit, but because to act for
there benefit is righteousness); a future for those sojourners that is not plagued
by avoidable problems.

This they do while bearing in mind that one day their descendents will likely
learn from and improve upon their work as well. In this realization, they do not
grow emotionally attached to their path either. They simply seek to do whatever
works the best; all with the ultimate goal kept at constant attention and
intention, that the purpose of the path is found in the Summit, not in the path
itself. Whether or not that path is reached in one individual lifetime is never
the concern; rather that the intention to reach the Summit is maintained as one
strives along, never finding contentment in the plateaus, and never being
distracted into conflict at the crossroads. This is the way of the mystic, the way
in harmony with the spirit of the prophets who themselves carved out these paths
in the days of old. This is the approach that we take.