Winter 1996-97
The Church of the Whimsical Way began as a pretext for Halloween outfits that Virginia and I designed and wore to a party in 1981. I wore a long, green hooded robe, and announced that I was a high priest in the Church of Whimsy (the church's original name). Virginia created a glittery costume that made her look like an elf pretending to be a princess/wizard. We told the curious that she was an "Exogenous Variable," and that it was she who was the bedrock for the belief system in the Church of Whimsy.
Exogenous variables, we explained further (to the few whose eyes had not yet glazed over) are those factors that one fails to take into account when making plans and making decisions. They are the variables that insure that things will always turn out differently than planned (such things as hurricanes, new technologies, accidents, and friends who drop by unannounced.) Because of the pervasivenous of exogenous variables, members of the Church of the Whimsy give as much or more credence to intuition as they do to rational planning and decision-making.
Since the Church had no real members, it languished somewhat for the next 15 years. It was reborn, however, one Sunday morning in December, 1995. Fortunately, I captured that moment in last year's Winter Holiday Letter. (Those of you who have already seen that letter, can jump to my account of the unexpected, tremendous growth of the Church of the Whimsical Way.
Last year for the first time in years, I found myself unable to write my Winter Holidays letter. In previous years I’d written about family life, about rural life in our "intentional neighborhood," and about my work. Last year I tried writing about my spiritual life-but I couldn’t strike the right tone, one that would avoid both sappiness and irreverence without being tendentious and soporific. (Don’t reach for your dictionaries. Tendentious means "advancing a definite point of view or doctrine," and soporific means "sleep inducing." After both words sprang to mind, I had to look them up before deciding that they were precisely right.)
This year I’m going to try once more to write about spiritual matters. Perhaps I can keep you awake by telling you about the Sunday Morning Sauna.
Recently, the seven households in our neighborhood, with help from many friends, completed the construction of a very roomy sauna (9 feet wide, 12 feet long, and 10 feet high at its peak) located near the beach on our neighborhood’s secluded little lake.
The sauna is cedar-sided, cedar-paneled, candle-lit, and can be heated to excruciating temperatures by a very efficient wood stove. The basic idea is to spend enough time experiencing the sauna’s dry heat so that a quick dip in the near-freezing lake feels exhilarating instead of bone-chilling.
For the past few weeks I have been incorporating the sauna experience into the Sunday morning rituals that I have practiced for years; and I have begun inviting others to share in the experience. The Sunday Morning Sauna begins at 9:00 a.m. with the lighting of the stove and an hour of simple exercises based on T’ai Chi Ch’uan and an Okinawan soft-style of karate called Ouechi Ryu. With the sauna at normal room temperature, we then engage in a half hour of silent meditation followed by a half hour of group chanting. After that, we crank up the stove, shed our clothes and drop all formality as we perspire, jump into the water, shriek wildly, and head for the heat again.
Actually, although I just described the Sunday Morning Sauna as a group experience, yesterday morning was the first time anyone has done it with me. Joining me were four members of the men’s group with whom I’ve been meeting quarterly since the early 1970s. After our Saturday night meeting, they had camped overnight in a cabin near the lake. On Sunday morning they were in a mellow mood and were poised to pierce any pretensions I might display.
Noticing at once the absence of a congregation, they queried me about the doctrines behind my Sunday morning rituals. I realized that a serious discussion of Taoism was not in the offing, so I told them that as the Shaman of the Sauna, it was my duty to help them realize the importance of, and indeed the preeminence of, Exogenous Variables in all of our lives.
I explained that Exogenous Variables take on many forms, and that their essence resides in their unpredictability. Exogenous Variables consist of those factors that are outside of our awareness as we make plans. They are those unforeseen circumstances, forces, and events that alter immeasurably the probability calculations which we explicitly or implicitly make in deciding upon courses of action. Once we accept Exogenous Variables into our lives, I said, we realize the importance of cultivating our mental and physical flexibility, agility, and openness to change.
As we cranked up the stove and the heat in the sauna grew more intense, we played verbally with these concepts, and I stressed that the doctrines of the Sunday Morning Sauna were still evolving and would be a product of the thinking of the entire congregation. They applauded such a democratic approach, and they noted that democracy would no doubt be easy -- since I was the only member of the congregation.
I replied by pouring water on the stove -- and a shockingly hot wave of moist heat squelched further conversation before we ran from the sauna, jumped into the lake, shrieked our lungs out...and together paid homage to Exogenous Variables.
MAY YOU HAVE
a Merry Christmas! a Happy Hanukkah! a Cheerful Kwanza! a Wonderful Solstice! And a Happy New Year!
I had not predicted at all the incredible reception that my 1995 Winter Holiday Letter would receive (which, of course, was totally in line with the teachings of the Church). I was, however, completely prepared for the onslaught of applicants (since being prepared for the unexpected is also a basic tenant of both Taosim and the Church). In less than 10 months, the congregation has increased by 100% !
Not only am I attending services every Sunday, but also Daniel, one of the members of my men's group, has been coming to the meditation nearly every week for the past few months. Although he did soon declare that he was starting a splinter group, his very presence is a testament to the power of the Whimsical Way.
But seriously, folks:
Someday I may try to explain the roots in Taoism and Tai Chi Chuan that make the Church of the Whimsical Way more than a pretext for Halloween costumes and a satirical Holiday Letter. I hope in the process to emulate Alan Watts, who I once heard confess to a packed auditorium in Cambridge, Mass., that he was "only a philosophical entertainer." In my wildest dreams I would like to be only that.
In my paper on Tai Chi & Striking Bag Meditation, I explore the biographical roots of some of the current rituals in the Church's liturgy.
Return to David's Personal Home Page