The Sad State of Spiritual Literature, Part 1

I doubt that there is a better-read mystic than yours truly. Moreover, I doubt that there is a living mystic with my overall knowledge and understanding of mysticism and spiritual philosophy. As I read book after book, it is apparent to me that I have no peers in the field of spiritual exegesis and elaboration.

I wish this weren’t the case. I wish that I could point people to living spiritual masters and great spiritual writers, but all I see is a vast wasteland of mediocrity (and less-than-mediocrity). There are some high-integrity spiritual teachers, and a few teachers who are true experts in a specific tradition – but no one, other than me, seems capable of putting it all together, in forging a deep and wide esoteric perennial philosophy.

In the forthcoming weeks, I will, for both fun and educational purposes, be commenting on some of these teacher-writers (as well as some dead ones, too). Dale Carnegie is probably turning over in his grave right now, wondering why I would “stir up a hornet’s nest” by “digging into the Dharmas” of these teachers. But unlike me, Dale Carnegie didn’t have Scorpio rising and five planets in the eighth house. So stay tuned for the forthcoming “fun and education.”