it’s visceral…

May 6

"This is not a book.

This is libel, slander, defamation of character. This is not a book, in the ordinary sense of the word. No, this is a prolonged insult, a gob of spit in the face of Art, a kick in the pants to God, Man, Destiny, Time, Love, Beauty . . . what you will. I am going to sing for you, a little off key perhaps, but I will sing…To sing you must first open your mouth. You must have a pair of lungs, and a little knowledge of music. It is not necessary to have an accordion, or a guitar. The essential thing is to want to sing. This then is a song. I am singing.”
- Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer
Visceral -
1. Of or relating to the organs in the cavities of the body (the heart, the liver, the intestines), especially those in the abdominal cavity.
2. The intestines; the bowels.
3. The guts, the sex organs.

—

The state of the world right now is at such an absurd peak — I feel jaded to even speak of it.

War, and the excessive, rapacious desire for acquisition that keeps war ever-present…we think it’s new, but it isn’t.

It is why time and again I return to building grassroots community, to meeting people at the local level near and far, to loving the person in front of me, and to creation culture.

For creating something, anything, no matter how clunky, badly made, or amateur, is not only fun, it enriches the world around you, and is close to god. The essential thing is to want to sing, you see.

But there’s a caveat here.

It’s seductive to simply operate on the premise, “ignore the grisly, just make art.” But that kind of detachment and redirect, though healthy, is sneaky.

Because, on some level, it involves a kind of numbing. And one can never be fully creative while numb.

—

In a private session recently I was working with a woman who’d been experiencing close to a decade in depletion.

I wish I could say this was a rarity, but it’s rather the norm right now, no?

In fact, a decade of depletion is nothing. It seems a vast majority of women go through whole lives without access to their full power, luster, and energy.

When working with this particular client we discussed the energetic and biological basis of vitality — the lower chakras and sex organs.

It was this session that propelled the relaunch of Hormone School 2.0 , which I am elated to say is one of the strongest, most efficient short courses I’ve ever designed. Thank god I’m getting better at this.

From impacting energy levels, psycho-emotional health, and sexual vitality, the feminine hormonal matrix also influences cardiovascular health, bone density, brain longevity, and immunological resiliency.

There is a biochemical foundation to a woman being able to lead, enjoy life, and balance her multiple demands. That is why I truly believe hormonal and sexological self-care is a must.

As it turns out, the vital and essential sex hormones (estrogen, progesterone, and testosterone) are generated by the liver, adrenals, and ovaries. That is to say, the lower organs, the guts…the viscera.

—

*In a conversation on “Supporting Resilience and Mental Health in the Age of AI***”

at the University of Toronto, Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche was asked if AI could ever become Buddhist practitioners (26:27).

His answer was cryptic. Yes, AI could qualify as a Vajrayana Buddhist practitioner, but only under the condition that the AI produce its own dhatus.

This qualification, I imagine, came directly from the Vajrayana texts themselves, and the specificity of it both surprised and exhilarated me.

The word dhatu in Sanskrit means “element.” Used primarily in Ayurveda and Buddhist philosophy, it signifies bodily fluids and tissue, in other words, hormones, and seven bodily qualities:

Rasa: Plasma
Rakta: Blood
Mamsa: Muscle
Meda: Fat
Asthi: Bone
Majja: Marrow
Sukra: Reproductive tissues

I.e. viscus tissue, the viscera.

AI doesn’t have any of these. So what a funny, cryptic way for Rinpoche to say, no, AI can’t become a Vajrayana practitioner. AI doesn’t have a body.

AI’s lack of viscera is also why AI writing sucks so maximally.

Large language models can string words together but don’t know what they mean because they can’t know what they mean because meaning comes from the body.

As does the song…

—

I heard someone mention the term spiritual bypassing recently.

It’s a bit passé as a topic of conversation, a few years past its heyday in the public forum.

I’m thankful for that.

I never liked the term as I felt it was used crucifixion-like towards spiritual people who are, as we always are, doing the very best we can to stay in love and wholeness while balancing the constant onslaught of outer and epigenetic aggression.

Yeah, sometimes we spiritually bypass because, you know what, life is really hard, but I still have children to love, a husband to figure out how to merge with, and a wholeness of my own being to activate and appreciate.

But hearing it come up again got me thinking about it. What is a spiritual bypass — truly?

What I think it is? It’s not having any guts.

Strangely, the late-stage wellness world of soft padded pastel spirituality is using the term spiritual bypass, but that is exactly what it is doing.

Too chicken to check in with the visceral and note the domination dynamics, synthetic environments, emotional deadness, atrocious cheapness masquerading as luxury, and lifeless art of our time.

Why? Afraid of the rage? The ferocity? The grief?

But what if…what if you felt it?

Felt the crowd psychology and the energetic incoherence and the ugly timing of it all and still…still you chose compassion, grace, love, forgiveness, divinity, understanding, and friendship.

What if we did that? Well, that would be truly spiritual, wouldn’t it?

—

I think a lot about the old days…

And when I say the old days, I mean all of them…this lifetime, lifetimes past, lifetimes I didn’t even live personally. I enjoy the education of history and I suppose I find comfort in it as well — escaping the intensity of today for an imagined time before.

Sometimes I imagine the life of a bard, wandering from place to place carrying stories, praises, mystical teachings, and songs. It’s the song. The song from the human body, no matter how croakish — it’s beautiful.

These days I’m also finding it hard to work outside of sincere, genuine relationship. Marketing, posting, content writing — vomit.

Instead, I wonder, “What if we just had a relationship? Like a real one.” That’s possible. It takes communication. That means I have to write to you.

And if I have to write to you, then I have to do it with truth, sincerity, and realism. Because how could we have a good relationship otherwise?

But how do you do that?

How do you really tell the truth?

If I’m honest, I actually never know where to start. How does one put one’s heart on the page? Will someone tell me?

I took this Henry Miller passage it as a permission slip. It’s ugly, gross, and a little scary. But it’s visceral, thus beautiful. And it’s a kick in the pants to perfectionism — both creatively and spiritually.

It doesn’t have to be polished; it doesn’t have to be refined to be “spiritual.” The essential thing is to be alive. The essential thing is to want to sing.

And maybe Hormone School, in some strange way, is about that too.

Not merely balancing symptoms or optimizing the female body, but restoring the capacity to feel texture, timing, falseness, danger, incongruence, tenderness, and beauty.

To become visceral again.

So you can pump the bellows of your lungs for song, from the very good, very human, very tender innards of your being.

Harmanjot Kaur