In Western astrology Saturn symbolises old age; it is the most slowly moving planet visible to the naked eye known to ancient astronomers (the planet Ouranos is just visible but remained undetected until modern times). As such, it is associated with the painstakingly careful thoughts that plumb the depths of great knowledge.
The ancient Chinese shared this assessment of this beautiful planet but instead of a stern herald of death, the Chinese regarded Saturn as a symbol of longevity, joy, and beneficence. As such, and with particular regard to its great wisdom, Saturn is central to the philosophy of good health and wit. It is no coincidence that the greatest Chinese sages are not only elderly but usually smiling.
Of course, we do not have to wait until we are old for wisdom to blossom, but we can learn much from the example given to us by our wise elders. To contemplate the fathomless mysteries of nature and life, we need to distance ourselves from the continual distractions of the helter-skelter world around us. By clearing our minds of the clutter of day-to-day chores and trivial thoughts, we begin to give our minds the freedom and time needed to unravel the complex knots that restrict our spiritual growth.
This can be achieved simply by seeking out a quiet, comfortable spot such as an unoccupied lounge, or even a bedroom (the very place you are currently in is probably fine as a starting place) and closing our eyes. Traditionally, though, the dedicated mystic voyager retreats further and further from the mundane world, and many Chinese sages wound up living high in a mountain fastness, pursuing their quest of spiritual enlightenment in splendid isolation.
It is a dreadful irony that such sages are never left alone with their holy meditations; like ducks to water, people are inexorably drawn to visit a hermit. Whether seeking ultimate truth themselves, or hoping for the answer to a particular problem, or simply wishing to be of service to someone they admire; acolytes cluster like children sitting at the foot of their father listening to his wondrous stories.
Eventually these acolytes return to their towns and cities, carrying with them the precious snippets of wisdom they learned from the sage. Sometimes these treasured sayings were collected and memorised by professionals who quoted them as we might quote proverbs, for the instruction of the young or inexperienced. Eventually, some of these collections were committed to writing and, where it was impractical to identify each particular author, were simply generically ascribed to The Elder, The Ancient Sage, etc. The most celebrated of these is the Dao De Jing (Tao Te Ching), ascribed to Laozi (Lao Tzu) - The Old Man; composed in the 4th century BCE.
Describing the idea that you don't need to immerse yourself in the hurly-burly of life in order to understand it, Laozi says in chapter 47: "Without going outside, it is possible to understand the entire world. Without looking out of the window, it is possible to see the Dao [way] of heaven."
And this is a key to gaining the secret located at the heart of the Ba Gua mandala. The attributes of all four arms meet at the infinitesimal point at the centre. All things are contained in one place. To dive off the deep end for an instant we may note that, in an infinite universe, all points lie at its centre: each of us stands at the centre of the universe. In the heart of each of us we are connected to and infused with all aspects of universal life, in perfect proportion and harmony. Finding this inner, cosmic centre is the goal of the sage; it is the gateway to heaven and eternal life.
The Dao De Jing has much to say on the nature of the quest for the ineffable peace that mystical illumination brings. Its final chapter, 81, pays homage to the antiquity of its origins whilst simultaneously making a profoundly contemporary observation. Like the well that is kept perpetually full by the vast reservoir of moisture in the expanse of porous stone around it, the true sage is an inexhaustible fount of wisdom: "The sage does not withhold. Having given everything away, he still has more; having freely dispensed all that he has, his riches are unlimited."
Familiar since birth with the yin/yang concept of interpenetrating and interdependent emptiness and fullness, the Eastern way of thinking can easily accommodate ideas that might seem paradoxical to us. For example, "in order to fulfil its purpose, an emptiness must exist" - the well shaft needs to be dug before it can fill with water. The wheel is useless without the space at the centre where the axle fits.
The Ba Gua is often described in terms of a wheel - the cycle of day and night caused by the rotation of the Earth, the sequence of the seasons around Earth's orbit of the sun, the revolving of our star around the galactic hub - wheels within wheels you might say.
Having a living space in the heart of the whirling chaos of life is desperately important to us all - we all need a refuge from the cut and thrust of the urban jungle, and an oasis in the midst of its often barren emotional wilderness. This peaceful place is, as we have seen above, found within us; but we can also benefit from actually building it into our daily lives by making a haven of tranquillity in our homes. It can become our sanctuary, our own piece of mountaintop where we can survey the world and takes its measure.
Do not think of this place as a purely defensive thing, a mere bolt-hole in times of trouble, into which you can withdraw and be safe; it is much more. It is where we can feel free. Here, we can strengthen the inner core of our being and develop our potential for self-transformation until, like the proverbial butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, we can return to the world refreshed, invigorated and radiant. Even a small daily difference to our attitude and self-confidence can soon amount to a dramatic improvement in our lifestyle.
Creating this dynamic yet restful personal space is the subject of Feng Shui.
© Ken Taylor 2004-2006