Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Tao te Ching: 23

Nature says few words.
For the same reason a whirlwind does not last a whole morning,
Nor does a rainstorm last a whole day.
What causes them?
It is Heaven and Earth (Nature).
If Heaven and Earth cannot make them last long,
How much less can man?
Therefore he who follows Tao is identified with Tao.
He who follows virtue is identified with virtue.
He who abandons (Tao) is identified with abandonment (of Tao).
He who is identified with Tao—Tao is happy to have him.
He who is identified with virtue—virtue is also happy to have him.
And he who is identified with the abandonment (of Tao)—
The abandonment (of Tao) is happy to have him.
It is only when one does not have enough faith in others
that others will have no faith in him.
What a kick in the teeth. To me. This is without going to the Analects of Confucius. This is without going back to chapter 17 and discussing faith in others. This is a common theme in philosophy and parables. Let us look at both parts in sequence.

The first line does reference the Analects of Confucius, chapter 17: verse 19.
Confucius: I do not wish to say anything.
Tzu-kung: If you do not say anything, what can we little disciples ever learn to pass on to others?
Confucius: Does Heaven (T'ien, Nature) say anything? The four seasons run their course and all things are produced. Does Heaven say anything?
Nature does say few words. There is an impermanence in the works of even the most fundamental of all things (other than Tao, which is eternal). Not only does this fit in with the impermanence that is so key in Buddhism, but in other works as well. Impermanence is one of the three marks of existence in Buddhism, along with Dukkha (suffering) and Anatman (also anatta, no-self. I use anatman because it fits nicely with the concept of atman in Hindiusm.) Since everything depends on something else for its very existence, there is nothing that is eternal and unchanging says the basic precepts of the Buddha. But where else do we see this?

We see it in the Jewish folktale where King Solomon sends one of his ministers into the world to find a magic ring that will make a happy man who sees it sad, and a sad man who sees it happy. The minister has 6 months to find the ring and on the very last night, he asks a poor man if he has seen such a ring. The poor man etches some words on the inside of the ring and gives it to the minister. The distraught minister reads it and smiles happily.

The minister returns to Solomon, who believes he could not have found such a ring, and the minister gives the ring to the King. Solomon reads the inscription: gimel zayin yud, or gam zeh ya'avor, which means "This too shall pass." Upon reading this, Solomon realized that he and all his works would eventually be no more than dust.

Where else do we see this? Shelly's poem Ozymandias is a good example as well.
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
And of the second part? Actions define a man, not his philosophy, the things he thinks or the things that he says. It is truly what you have accomplished that others will associate with you.

The last lines relate back to chapter 17, but the concept of having faith in another is something that is very difficult for me. I like to think that I am steadfast, loyal and trustworthy but I have a hard time finding these qualities in others. Perhaps it is the same. If you can't see these in others, then they will have a difficult time seeing them in you even if it is actually there. One has to make the first move at some point. And in the end? It matters not because it will have all returned to sand except for the people that we leave behind. The Buddhists and their belief in reincarnation adds another dimension.

Tao te Ching: 22

To yield is to be preserved whole.
To be bent is to become straight.
To be empty is to be full.
To be worn out is to be renewed.
To have little is to possess.
To have plenty is to be perplexed.
Therefore the sage embraces The One
And becomes the model of the world.
He does not show himself; therefore he is luminous.
He does not boast of himself; therefore he is given credit.
He does not brag; therefore he can endure for long.
It is precisely because he does not compete that the world
cannot compete with him.
Is the ancient saying, "To yield is to be preserved whole,"
empty words?
Truly he will be preserved and (prominence, etc.) will
come to him.

I have meditated on this passage more than any other in all of Taoism. When I find myself looking for a passage in the Tao, I always come to rest here. This is testable. This is true. This is a principle that I find I can live my life by.

Of course, one may need more than just one principle.

If one did not yield, would he not be broken? One cannot withstand the onslaught of work, life, friends, emotion or any other thing without allowing it to wash over them. The torrent is simply too much and some things must be accommodated or you will simply shatter. You will lose your job, your family, your friends, or even your mind. There are moments.

So it is that bending allows one to become straight after the torrent has passed.

If you have little or if you are empty, you truly own the things that you have. What we think of as lacking is actually very rich. Remember chapter 11—"therefore turn being into advantage, and turn non-being into utility." We can and must be more than we think we are because of lack.

To test the veracity of wearing out, work yourself into exhaustion physically and see if your spirit does not buoy up with the completeness of your work and the satisfaction of your accomplishment.

Yet, we stick to chapter 2 and 3 and do not associate ourselves with our works. We do not boast, brag, or glorify our own works and because of that, they last forever. No one is comfortable with the vainglorious advertisements of those that showcase their works.

This is a hard chapter to write for, because I feel like the explanation isn't necessary. Please write below if you have comments. Selah.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Tao te Ching: 21

The all-embracing quality of the great virtue (te) follows
alone from the Tao.
The thing that is called Tao is eluding and vague.
Vague and eluding, there it is in the form.
Eluding and vague, in it are things.
Deep and obscure, in it is the essence.
The essence is very real; in it are evidences.
From the time of old until now, its name (manifestations)
ever remains,
By which we may see the beginning of all things.
How do I know the beginnings of all things are so?
Through this (Tao).

Here essence also means intelligence, life force, or perhaps even soul. It is the animating force that makes a thing what it is.

One of the translators of the many translations of the Tao te Ching calls this the most important chapter of the book in a philosophical sense. Perhaps. I don't find it particularly inspiring. It doesn't give something to test. Still, I see how it forms the backbone of Taoism. It is an elegant restatement of the previous chapters.

Te, the great virtue, comes from the Tao not as a named thing but as a state of grace or virtue falls upon the virtuous one. Is that as redundant as the translation seems? Perhaps, but it is the only thing that comes from the Tao that isn't there because it is so named. Heaven and Earth were born of names. One to two, and two to many. It is not separate from the eternal Tao, but still it proceeds from it.

Te is there in form or objects. The te is in an object we might call a person even without it having a name. It is in the thing itself, not in the label plus name construct. Yet it is also in the label plus name construct. A person may possess Te, and a specific person may possess Te. Whatness and thisness. Quiddity and haecceity.

Not only is Te real, but because it is real we can see the virtue in other things. I think that is what Lao Tzu is saying.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Tao te Ching: 20

Abandon learning and there will be no sorrow.
How much difference is there between "Yes, sir," and
"Of course not"?
How much difference is there between "good" and "evil"?
What people dread, do not fail to dread.
But, alas, how confused, and the end is not yet.
The multitude are merry, as though feasting on a day of sacrifice,
Or like ascending a tower in the springtime.
I alone am inert, showing no sign (of desires),
Like an infant that has not yet smiled.
Wearied, indeed, I seem to be without a home.
The multitude all possess more than enough,
I alone seem to have lost all.
Mine is indeed the mind of an ignorant man,
Indiscriminate and dull!
Common folks are indeed brilliant;
I alone seem to be in the dark.
Common folks see differences and are clear-cut;
I alone make no distinctions.
I seem drifting as the sea;
Like the wind blowing about seemingly without destination.
The multitude all have a purpose;
I alone seem to be stubborn and rustic.
I alone differ from others,
And value drawing sustenance from Mother (Tao).
A Confucianist would never say this. They would sharply distinguish between good and evil and would never advocate abandoning learning. This seems anathema to me, one who likes to learn and test and distinguish but I think I understand what Lao Tzu is getting at here.

Education causes difference. It isn't simply the knowledge, but it fosters the have and have-not system. The better education you have, the better job you get. The better job you get, the better you can provide for your family. The better you provide for your family, the more you can give them including education. The converse is also true.

At the end of the day, does yes or no matter? At the end of the week, year, or decade? Good or evil is a stronger concept in most of our minds, yet we still do "good" and "evil" actions. What does this do to or for us in the long run? We have all done both.

Everyone has preconceptions and goals and ideals. Everyone follows common sense and tradition. Yet the sage does not. The sage makes on distinctions and draws only from the Tao and not from what others value or need.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Tao te Ching: 19

Abandon sageliness and discard wisdom;
Then the people will benefit a hundredfold.
Abandon humanity and discard righteousness;
Then the people will return to filial piety and deep love.
Abandon skill and discard profit;
Then there will be no thieves and robbers.
However, these three things are ornament (wen)
and not adequate.
Therefore let people hold onto these:
Manifest plainness,
Embrace simplicity,
Reduce selfishness,
Have few desires.
Chapter 19 follows 18 closely, prescribing the Tao as an antidote to the ills that Confucianism contrives to correct. The fact that both use the term sage is a little confusing. Remember that the sage in Taoism is not the  chun-tzu of Confucianism. Chun-tzu embraces jen and all of his virtues flow forth from it, while the Taoist sage is impartial to all things.

The sage also has a dual meaning here—that of the learned man. Lao Tzu says to abandon the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake. This strikes hollow for me, and I suspect on some level it strikes hollow for many Buddhists because Buddhism is an experimental doctrine. From Buddha to the most recent Dalai Lama encourage people to explore and test the precepts of Buddhism on their own and not to simply take the word of those that are supposedly further along the path to enlightenment. Still, there is something to what Lao Tzu said. We are the first generation of humans who have the capability to destroy humanity. Our reckless quest to gain knowledge enabled nuclear bombs, germ warfare, and nerve toxins. How odd that we might get these things from poisonous yellowcake ore, the plague-ridden dead, or South American frogs. Yet, if we hadn't, we would also miss out on CT scans, the polio vaccine, and plastics.

Still, Lao Tzu makes the case to abandon jen and yi and by doing so he assurts that we will return to hsiao automatically. Lao Tzu also addresses Hsün Tzu (not to be confused with Sun Tzu, author of The Art of War), the father of the rational (or slightly pessimistic) school of Confucianism. In either case, it was more pragmatic. Hsün Tzu believed mankind's essential nature to be wayward, which conflicts with the beliefs of Mencius (who felt mankind was essentially good.) Hsün Tzu thought that social conventions and codes of conduct were the way to correct this. This is eventually adopted by Han Fei Tzu. Yet at the same time, Hsün Tzu's view of the impartiality of nature harkens unto Taoism. This skill and knowledge is rebuked.

Yet, the skill and profit being rebuked are also the expensive things and great deeds that Lao Tzu cautions against praising in chapter 3. He offers a prescription against the flavors of Confucianism in his last 4 lines.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Tao te Ching: 18

When the great Tao is declined,
The doctrines of humanity (jen) and righteousness (yi) arose,
When knowledge and wisdom appeared,
There emerged great hypocrisy.
When the six family relationships are not in harmony,
There will be the advocacy of filial piety and deep love to children.
When a country is in disorder,
There will be praise of loyal ministers.
Chapter 18 attacks Confucianism directly. It isn't a contradiction of a point here and there to differentiate itself, but it is a direct subversion of Confucianism. I'll go into Confucianism briefly so you can see how this is so, but I'll have to explore it more fully at another time.

There are six things that form the basis of Confucius' philosophy. They are jen, li, yi, hsiao, chih, chun-tzu, and te.

We know that jen means human heartedness, humane, good natured, benevolent and so forth. Confucius says all other virtues extend from it. The Tao does not regard anything with jen but instead remains impartial, thus it is a rebuke because Lao Tzu says that it is only when one gives up the Tao that this must come into being.

The same is true for yi, which is a since of righteousness. It is the moral disposition to be good. It is an instinctive drive to do the right thing, according to Confucianism. "The Right Thing" changes from culture to culture, so accepting yi is actually accepting the impersonal ego of a society, or appropriating the virtues of the culture.

Chih was added by Mencius because he believed that basic human nature was good, and it means moral wisdom. Where yi is instinctive and reactionary and applies an impulse, chih is drawn from the knowledge of good and evil. There is a difference, but that is another long post for when I get to Confucianism, but that is the knowledge and wisdom that Lao Tzu is mentioning here.

So without the Tao, Lao Tzu says that we must try to be humane to others and have a sense of righteousness. Now that we know good from evil and struggle to stay in the good, we have the ability to stray from that path and fall into the wrong despite our yi.

Hsiao means filial piety or reverence. Confucius found that honoring your parents and ancestors were key to his philosophy. They were to be honored and respected because they gave up much for you and you should in turn do much to make your family name well known and respected. This extends not just from physical needs but also spiritual and emotional richness as well. When the parents die, you take up their dreams and continue them for three years. Lao Tzu says that when the six types of family relationships are not in harmony, it becomes a virtue to have them in harmony. The six types of relationships is also a Confucian construct and they are as follows, in pairs: parent to child, elder sibling to younger sibling, and husband to wife.

Finally, Lao Tzu says that when the country is in disorder, we make a virtue out of the ruling power te. These are patterns of prestige and power that are used to rule over a country.

Chun-tzu is the ultimate man, the ideal man. The Taoists might call him the sage except that he doesn't fit the same virtues. To the Confucians, chun-tzu had 5 virtues that all stemmed from the unlimited flow of jen within  him: kindness, rectitude, decorum, wisdom, and sincerity. He was without fear and beyond personal ambition, living at the disposal of others. He doesn't sound too different from the sage, but he was partial all the same and he embraced jen and not wu-wei.

Chapter 18 rebukes Confucianism in every way. If one does not act in accordance with the great Tao, if one is partial and strives and plans, then one must invent an entire system of behavior just to bring things into an operable state. Ruling without wu-wei, having a country without hsü, requires that new virtues be created to accomplish many of the same tasks. Ultimately, rejection of the Tao requires much more work to achieve something that allows a state to operate on a similar level as the Tao. This, of course, violates wu-wei.

Tao te Ching: 17

The best (rulers) are those whose existence is (merely)
known by the people.
The next best are those who are loved and praised.
The next are those who are feared.
And the next are those who are despised.
It is only when one does not have enough faith in others
that others will have no faith in him.
[The great rulers] value their words highly.
They accomplish their task; they complete their work.
Nevertheless their people say that they simply follow Nature (Tzu-jan).
Another passage about how to rule. Sometimes this is how to rule yourself, but this is about how to rule others. Who would you most rather have as your boss? As your president, king, or prime minister? Would you want someone who accomplished things and we simply knew that they were there? If so, it would mean that they spent their time doing their job without pomp and circumstance.

Wouldn't it be nice to have a leader who is loved and praised? Someone we support and proudly follow? Sure it would be, but what does that leader have to do to get us to do so? How much extra effort must they put in to be so visible and so popular?

A ruler feared still commands loyalty. There are consequences to not following his word and those consequences are terrifying enough to cause one to follow him. He is still a poor ruler though, and when the time comes that the consequence can be paid, his rule is at an end. Yet, a ruler who is despised is still a ruler to be obeyed. You could hate your boss and he could be cruel and selfish, but if he was often right and clever you might follow him anyway. Still, no one wants a leader like this.

This is a very self-explanatory chapter except for the difference between the ruler who rules with wu-wei and the one who is loved and praised. Popular leaders have to devote a lot of time and effort into staying popular, and that isn't the job that they have. It takes time and energy that is best spent elsewhere. That popular and well loved leader claims his actions and does things for the consequence they bring (popularity, love, fame, fortune) and not for the reasons that are good (that it must be done).

Tzu-jan is interesting here. It is literally "self evident" or "self so" but it really means to act naturally, or spontaneously, without untoward planning. Following nature is a way of acting in accordance with the sage.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Tao te Ching: 16

Attain complete vacuity,
Maintain steadfast quietude.
All things come into being,
And I see thereby their return.
All things flourish,
But each one returns to its root.
This return to its root means tranquility.
It is called returning to its destiny.
To return to destiny is called the eternal (Tao).
To know the eternal is called enlightenment.
Not to know the eternal is to act blindly to result in disaster.
He who knows the eternal is all-embracing.
Being all-embracing, he is impartial.
Being impartial, he is kingly (universal).
Being kingly, he is one with Nature.
Being one with Nature, he is in accord with Tao.
Being in accord with Tao, he is everlasting,
And is free from danger throughout his lifetime.
The beginning of this chapter is the beginning of meditation for me. To begin, I seek to be empty and the best way to be empty is to be tranquil. Still and quiet all the thoughts rise up in my mind and eventually they fall away again. It is like this with all things in life. If you stay somewhere long enough you see new people come and go, events happen and stop happening.

Returning to your beginning, not geographically, but the empty peaceful mind of young children, is to return to what we are meant to be. To return to that is to return to the Tao.

If we don't, we cast about madly and make mistakes. We have troubles. This is the essence of Zen.

If we know the Tao then we know everything, and if we know all things, we are impartial. We become like the sage, who is like Heaven and Earth in Chapter 5. If we are like Heaven and Earth, then we are in agreement with Tao.

How does this mean that we are free from danger? Perhaps it means that we aren't likely to fall into the traps of greed or a selfish mind. How clever we are, to create things to alleviate our suffering and then create new things to alleviate the suffering that is caused by those inventions. When this happens we are not in accord with Nature.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Tao te Ching: 15

Of old those who were the best rulers were
subtly mysterious and profoundly penetrating;
Too deep to comprehend.
And because they cannot be comprehended,
I can only describe them arbitrarily:
Cautious, like crossing a frozen stream in the winter,
Being at a loss, like one fearing danger on all sides,
Reserved, like one visiting,
Supple and pliant, like ice about to melt,
Genuine, like a piece of uncarved wood,
Open and broad, like a valley,
Merged and undifferentiated, like muddy water.

Who can make muddy water gradually clear through tranquility?
Who can make the still gradually come to life through activity?
He who embraces this Tao does not want to fill himself
to overflowing.
It is precicely because there is no overflowing that he
is beyond wearing out and renewal.
Who are these of old? There are two words for ruler here, one uses shih which means ruler. Other translations put Tao here. That gives me context to believe that we are talking of older rulers that followed the Tao. That they are subtle and profound adds to that, and perhaps because of that, this translation used shih.

Yet these rulers were much like us in other ways. They were cautious, hesitant, and reserved, but yet they were genuine and open as well. It is only by applying the Tao that their waters settled and the precipitates fell away. It is only by applying the Tao that their activity brings life.

So we can do the same, says Lao Tzu. The tranquility reminds me of meditating, at the moment that has so gradually crept upon me that I do not notice that my distractions have likewise precipitated away many moments before.

Again, we also come to the not overflowing, as in Chapter 9. This reminds me of the middle way in Buddhism.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Tao te Ching: 14

We look at it and do not see it;
Its name is The Invisible.
We listen to it and do not hear it;
Its name is The Inaudible.
We touch it and do not find it;
Its name is The Subtle (formless).
These three cannot be further inquired into,
And hence merge into one.
Going up high, it is not bright, and coming down low, it is not dark.
Infinite and boundless, it cannot be given any name;
It reverts to nothingness.
This is called shape without shape,
Form (hsiang) without object.
It is The Vague and Elusive.
Meet it and you will not see its head.
Follow it and you will not see its back.
Hold on to the Tao of old in order to master the things of the present.
From this one may know the primeval beginning [of the universe].
This is called the bond of Tao.
Finally we come back to subtlety, something we first touched upon in chapter 1. The Tao is something that we cannot see, hear, or touch—but it is still there. We simply cannot know more about it. This is because it is Nameless, and if we start naming, measuring and quantifying, we create all the little things under Heaven and Earth.

If you elevate the Tao, it isn't any brighter and if you use it every day, it isn't any the worse for wear. Many chapters have touched upon the idea that the Tao is a tool that can be used without depletion. Here we see that it isn't any more useful or visible if we elevate it.

Hsiang is interesting. Here it means form, but it is deeper than that. Hsiang is a physical manifestation of nature. Hsiang is used in it's traditional sense here, so that it means feature, appearance or form. So this form without object is the ultimate subtlety because we have many ways to describe it, but there isn't any "thing" there to describe. Taoists found this to be much more important than any manifestations of the Tao.

How different this is from Confucianism! In Confucianism, manifestations are key. They said there is nothing more manifest than the hidden (which we take to mean subtle here), and in The Mean, they say that a man who knows the subtle can enter into virtue.

The Neo-Confucianists took another turn and said there was no difference. In The Complete Works of the Two Ch'engs, Ch'eng I says "Substance and function come from the same source, and there is no gap between the manifest and the hidden." This is taken from the I chuan's preface. The Buddhists said much the same, but I haven't found the actual text on that. It may be in a book that I didn't bring to lunch.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Tao te Ching: 13

Be apprehensive when receiving favor or disgrace.
Regard great trouble as seriously as you regard your body.
What is meant by being apprehensive when receiving favor or disgrace?
Favor is considered inferior.
Be apprehensive when you receive them and also be apprehensive when you lose them.
This is what is meant by being apprehensive when receiving favor or disgrace.
What does it mean to regard great trouble as seriously as you regard the body?
The reason why I have great trouble is that I have a body (and am attached to it).
If I have no body,
What trouble could I have?
Therefore he who values the world as his body may be entrusted with the empire.
He who loves the world as his body may be entrusted with the empire.
 This is another chapter that speaks to me. This is a hard one for me to voice my thoughts on because it clicks with me on a level that is difficult to articulate. I'll start by saying that I've seen some translations that say "Disgrace is considered inferior," and I don't think it makes a difference which is actually there. Favor with one is usually disgrace with another and vice versa.

Watch the favor though! If you are in good graces with your boss or your leader, you can surely lose those good graces just as easily. Not only that, if you are spoken well of and talked up, it increases the demands others will want to make on you. This encourages their own ambition and cunning. Not only that, it may inflate your own sense of esteem and inspire you to dismiss hsü and begin to scheme for yourself.

Most importantly, the leader who gives favor or disgrace is not a sage and does not rule with wu-wei. Lao Tzu already explains why this is important in chapter 3.

The second half is as humorous as it is true. I laugh when I read it, or at least I quirk my lips in a wry sort of grin. Can't you see a comic saying, "If I have no body, what trouble could I have?" Still, this has aspects of stewardship and even environmentalism (in a very early 21st century context) in it. We value our body and our health, even if we put it at risk by not exercising, eating terrible food, and practicing vices. One only has to become ill or be involved in an accident to realize how important our body is to us. We do value it, at least for the moment. Perhaps later we will forget again.

So the one who truly values his world as we value our body can be trusted with it.

I want to say more, but much talk destroys truth.

Tao te Ching: 12

What is it like outside? Charcoal gray clouds low against a blue sky that is violet high above. There is a light breeze, cool and redolent with plants and moisture.

The five colors cause one's eyes to be blind.
The five tones cause one's ears to be deaf.
The five flavors cause one's palate to be spoiled.
Racing and hunting cause one's mind to be mad.
Goods that are hard to get injure one's activities.
For this reason the sage is concerned with the belly and not the eyes,
Therefore he rejects the one but accepts the other.
The number five interests me here. It is for purely cultural reasons. The western world has used a seven note scale that repeats at the octave for hundreds of years. We have used others though. This interested me and I found that the Greeks, Scots, and others in the west used pentatonic scales as well. What about the five colors? I can see three easily enough: red, green and blue-violet. We use them a lot. When we paint, we use yellow for green. Pantone uses six colors. A magazine uses cyan, magenta, yellow, and black. So perhaps the five are red, yellow, blue, white, and black?

The five flavors interested me because those I am already familiar with. There is sweet, sour, bitter, salty, and savory, though we never learned about savory when I was growing up. There is a cultural disconnect for me in this chapter, but I think it is the mark of an amazing writer that it still shows so much relevance. Despite the numbers, I have no doubt what Lao Tzu means.

Over stimulating your senses causes those senses to be less acute. Surround yourself with beauty and you will hardly notice it. Racing and hunting are things we still do today, but we could simply put television and World of Warcraft in for those things and the meaning would be clear. Obsessive hobbies slowly drive us mad. The mind races. It locks itself into this world and refuses to come out.

Have you ever known a collector? Someone who has to have every single one of the Fleer 1994 X-Men trading cards, all stock parts on a limited edition automobile, or simply every Pokemon? When you spend all your time collecting hard to acquire things, nothing else gets done. It is always expensive: sometimes in time and sometimes in money, but very often in both.

So the sage puts away the senses, beauty, intense hobbies, and collecting things. All of these would cause him to strive. With these things he has no hsü and by trying he has no wu-wei. The belly is what we need to survive. At the end of a seven course meal or a bland stew of potatoes, all that matters is that your belly is full. What did you eat for breakfast on Monday three weeks ago? Does it matter now? Why did it matter then?

Monday, September 21, 2009

Tao te Ching: 11

Thirty spokes are united around the hub to make a wheel,
But it is on its non-being that the utility of the carriage depends.
Clay is molded to form a utensil,
But it is on its non-being that the utility of the utensil depends.
Doors and windows aer cut out to make a room,
But it is on its non-being that the utility of the room depends.
Therefore turn being into advantage, and turn non-being into utility.
This chapter is the reason I started this blog. I was stunned by the implications of this chapter. Selah. Pause and consider.

When we think of a wheel, we might think of the ancient prototype of a wheel: a stone disk with an axle through it. It is a very Flintstone's image, but primitive carts were made exactly so, though usually out of wood. But when we think of a wheel now, we probably think of something with a hub and a rim with spokes connecting the two. Imagine a bicycle wheel.

Lao Tzu says that these spokes are united around the hub to make a wheel. So we have a wheel. It is here in our hands, and good for us. This is an advantageous thing to have. But why is it advantageous? A wheel helps us do work. It makes it easier to move things. How does the wheel work? We have a hole in the center for an axle. The non-being (the hole for the axle) makes the wheel useful. A wheel with spokes is more resistant to damage than a solid wheel is and it is certainly eaily mended. Were I to drive a solid wheel, at speed and with weight upon it, over a harder rock, it would simply crack or chip. Eventually this would destroy the wheel and a new one would have to be made. Yet, it might only damage the rim or a few spokes and therefore a spoked wheel could be replaced.

What is the difference between a fork and a spoon and a knife? The fork has tines, where a spoon has none. These tines, defined because of the gap between each, allow us to spear our food and eat it. It holds the food more securely than a knife because there are many tines rather than a sharp point. The spoon has a bowl, defined by the absence of wood or metal in the center, so that liquid or soft food may be held. It has no sharp edges and we may use it to put food into our mouths. The knife has a sharp edge and this is useful for cutting. The material removed from the edge makes it sharp, or perhaps serrated, and this lack makes it more useful.

What is a room without windows and doors but a box? One cannot use it because nothing can enter and nothing can leave.

Once you understand this, it will never leave you.

Tao te Ching: 10

Can you keep the spritit and embrace the One without departing from them?
Can you concentrate your vital force (ch'i) and achieve the highest degree of weakness like an infant?
Can you clean and purify your profound insight so it will be spotless?
Can you love the people and govern the state without knowledge (cunning)?
Can you play the role of the female in the opening and closing of the gates of Heaven?
Can you understand all and penetrate all without taking any action?
To produce things and rear them,
To produce, but not to take possession of them,
To act, but not to rely on one's own ability,
To lead them, but not to master them—
This is called profound and secret virtue (hsüan-te).
Don't think about pink elephants.

It is difficult, isn't it? Yet that is exactly what it means to embrace Tao without departing from them. One must be mindful of Tao without trying to be exactly that. It can't be a goal to strive for, because we lose wu-wei and become cunning.

I think it's also important to note that ch'i here means vital force. Mencius makes use of this term as well, but let me try to explain what I think it means here. Ch'i and li are opposites and compliments. Li is propriety. It is a ritual or good conduct. Ch'i is matter, energy, or action. Chinese philosophers didn't seem to make much of a distinction between matter and energy it seems. This is remarkably prescient, because it makes me think of our own modern physics. By virtue of E=mc2, we have a way to translate between matter and energy. In fact, there appears to be little to no difference between the states on the quantum scale. Lao Tzu asks if we can concentrate our ch'i, our essence and our physical being, to achieve a high degree of weakness.

Why would we want to be weak? Water is undeniably weak when sitting in a puddle, yet a torrent of it will erode a mountain into a canyon, and freezing it will shatter the strongest stone. Can we be like water, Lao Tzu wants to know.

Can we be without our preconceptions and our desires and our goals so that we can see things as they truly are? Can we rule with wu-wei and keep our kingdom hsü? Can we dwell within the low and not aspire to great heights, but instead welcome in the things that must be done.

Can you do this without trying to do this?

He then says what must be done. Disclaimer: I'm not a parent. Doesn't his steps sound like the steps an ideal parent should take? Remember, the translator uses the phrase "to rely on one's own ability," and while that's fine, I still think the alternate translation "to not expect any reward" as in Chapter 2 is more appropriate.

So Lao Tzu says that if you can produce things and nurture them, without taking posession of them or trying to control them, but instead leading them to grow without thought of reward, then this is called hsüan-te.

Hsüan-te is a combination of hsüan, which means profound or mysterious, and te which means virtue. Te crops up again and again in eastern philosophy. Virtue often means moral character, but within Taoism it means something more: the Tao inherent in a thing. So hsüan-te is a profound or mysterious virtue that has the Tao inherent within it.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Tao te Ching: 9

To hold and to fill to overflowing
Is not as good as to stop in time.
Sharpen a sword-edge to its very sharpest,
And the (edge) will not last long.
When gold and jade fill your hall,
You will not be able to keep them.
To be be proud with honor and wealth
Is to cause one's own downfall.
Withdraw as soon as your work is done.
Such is Heaven's Way.
This is very practical advice at the beginning. When filling a cup with water, it is better to stop before it overflows rather than waste the water. Sharpening a knife to a razor's keenness means that it will fail soon, especially if you use that knife for tasks like butchering. Bones and gristle will fold the thin edge over, and those burrs are hard to work out.

The second set is for the sage, though we all take its meaning. If you build something magnificent, then others will want it. I suppose it could also mean that if you went for extravagance, eventually even you could not afford it, but that's a harder one to wrap my head around. It doesn't make it less true, but I don't think it is what Lao Tzu is aiming for. If that gold and jade can be taken, if your power can wane, than your pride in yourself and these things can also be taken or can wane. So do your work and then withdraw.

The translator Chan makes an interesting note in the margins:  "Note that one should withdraw only after his work is done. The Taoist way of life is not that of a hermit" I couldn't agree more. He also points out that Mencius even makes reference in Mencius 2A:2 "to withdraw quickly from office when it was proper to do so" to leaving when the work is done. I think this is interesting because chapter 5 is such a strong rebuke of Confucianism.

The ending seems odd, because Heaven is eternal, but we will address this more in chapter 23. That is one of my favorite chapters in the entire book, and I look forward to sharing it.

Tao te Ching: 8

What is it like outside? Blue skies fade to white haze on the horizon, and green trees in yellow sun slowly lose the verdant color of their youth in the cool still air.

The best (man) is like water.
Water is good; it benefits all things and does not compete with them.
It dwells in (lowly) places that all disdain.
This is why it is so near to Tao.
[The best man] in his dwelling loves the earth.
In his heart, he loves what is profound.
In his associations, he loves humanity.
In his words, he loves faithfulness.
In government, he loves order.
In handling affairs, he loves competence.
In his activities, he loves timeliness.
It is because he does not compete that he is without reproach.
 This is one of the most profound chapters I know of in the Tao te Ching. In fact, I think it is the simplicity of it that makes it so profound. Wu-wei? Perhaps. Wu-wei in writing is an interesting idea. I would like it to be true.


The second line sets up the entire chapter. Water is one of the repeating symbols of the Tao, just like the image of the female. Birthing and giving, benefiting all things and seeking the low, earthy places instead of aspiring to great heights, are wonderful virtues. Yet, I don't think this means that a hypothetical planet of Taoists would never have developed great bridges, or airplanes, or medical cures, or would have avoided a moonshot. Sometimes, things must be done. Their hour come round at last, as Yeats might have said.  Taoism doesn't say stay at home and farm your life away. Life still has to be lived, but with leaders that do not aspire to personal greatness and encourages the like from her people, a lot of the acrimony and greed that fills our evening news would likely be swept away.

Lao Tzu says do not compete with others, but benefit all. Love your world, love humanity (this is not jen, the virtue, but a mass of people), be faithful and true, follow order. Do things right and on time. If you do all these things, then no one can speak ill of you because what is there to speak ill of? Man is impartial like the sage, like Heaven and Earth, when he benefits all and does not compete.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Tao te Ching: 7

Heaven is eternal and Earth is everlasting.
They can be eternal and everlasting because they
do not exist for themselves,
And for this reason can exist forever.
Therefore the sage places himself in the background,
but finds himself in the foreground.
He puts himself away, and yet he always remains.
Is it not because he has no personal interests?
Thus is the reason why his personal interests are fulfilled.
 Not only does the sage model himself on the everlasting Tao, but here he also models himself on Heaven and Earth once again. Heaven and Earth regard all things as straw dogs in chapter 5, and the sage should regard all people the same, says Lao Tzu. This impartiality is a comforting thing in that context because we know that the impartiality means that the world isn't out to get us. It's hard not to feel that way sometimes, even for the most rational person. Sometimes misfortune comes in steaks and everything seems to be turning against us. So it helps to be told that this isn't true. That helps for humanity, but the sage is supposed to emulate Heaven and Earth. Why?

When you do something for yourself, it eventually comes to ruin. It requires cunning and ambition to accomplish a goal you set for yourself. You abandon hsü and you abandon wu-wei. Yet, if you do things not for yourself or for others, but for the simple reason that it must be done, then it will last. If you think about working with others, would you rather work with someone who doesn't go to extravagant lengths, always has the job done, and never looks for the reward and praise; or would you rather work with someone seeking glory, with ambition and drive? Ambition and drive will eventually exclude you. Ambition and drive will eventually offend others and block your forward movement. Yet the one who stays in the background accomplishes much without overexertion, and is thought well of by all because of the way that he works. By staying in the background, he is elevated to the foreground. He puts his own goals and interests aside, but by doing so, eventually they are fulfilled because he has done what needed to be done.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Tao te Ching: 6

The spirit of the valley never dies.
It is called the subtle and profound female.
The gate of the subtle and profound female
Is the root of Heaven and Earth.
It is continuous, and seems to be always existing.
Use it and you will never wear it out.
I think this probably means more when taken in a historical context. I don't know what the spirit of the valley is, but Lao Tzu does speak of returning to the dusty earth and later will say that a man should dwell in the low places. This may be the spirit of the valley: the sage in the low place, but I don't think so. I think the spirit of the valley is the Tao. It could be that it is both the sage and the Tao, since the sage emulates the Tao.

So then is the gate of the subtle and profound female what separates Heaven and Earth? It is the root of Heaven and Earth and proceeds from the spirit of the valley, which is the Tao. If so, then this gate always exists, and like the Tao it can be used without wearing it out.

This fits with his earlier chapters, but I haven't even started to comprehend what Lao Tzu is telling us here. Perhaps it is just that Heaven and Earth are just as enduring as the eternal Tao, and they too can be used and will never wear out. I look at the environment as we know it and see that this isn't demonstrably true, unless we consider Earth as all of the cosmos: the physical plane of existence. If so, Heaven is that higher plane that we seem to experience from time to time but have absolutely zero rational evidence for. The worldly and the sublime, descending from the eternal unnameable Tao.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Tao te Ching: 5

Heaven and Earth are not humane (jen). They regard all things as straw dogs.
The sage is not humane.
He regards all people as straw dogs.
How Heaven and Earth are like a bellows!
While vacuous, it is never exhausted.
When active, it produces even more.
Much talk will of course come to a dead end.
It is better to keep to the center (chung).
How horrible this sounds! We live in a world where humanity is a virtue. Merriam-Webster defines humane as "marked by compassion, sympathy, or consideration for humans or animals." This sounds wonderful. Who would not want a compassionate, sympathetic, and considerate person in their life? Jen is also sometimes translated as benevolence, love, goodness or altruism. This doesn't quite catch it all, because it means specific and general virtue.

Mencius, a follower of the Confucian school, differed mostly in the fact that he considered mankind's true nature to be benevolent. Jen was the mind or perhaps the soul, though neither accurately fit our standard definition. It was supposed to be the motive force. What drove people to move forward and do great works. In fact, the chinese character for jen includes both the character for man and the character for world.

But here Lao Tzu is actually giving us a positive thing about Heaven and Earth. It isn't that their lack of jen makes them cruel and uncaring, but rather it should be read that Heaven and Earth are impartial. I have been meditating on this point for a while, and I am undecided how to work with the phrase "straw dogs." Does this mean that everything is just a simplistic representation of something real? Does it mean that they are all equal and not deserving of special consideration and tending? Both sound plausible. The first seems to apply more to Heaven and Earth and the second seems to apply more to the sage. At least the lack of jen is clear; the sage should be impartial. This procedes nicely from the previous chapters, where Lao Tzu cautions against doing things for the wrong reason, and against celebrating treasures and good works.

We return to hsü again with the bellows analogy. The Tao is a tool, an implement like a bowl, and here he refers to Heaven and Earth as bellows. Vacuous (hsü) bellows that are never exhausted when emptied and produce still more when active. How true is this? How can someone test and gage this use as a tool even in the semantic sense? Hsü isn't emptiness, let us not forget that, but instead a purity of mind and a simplicity of being. Lao Tzu says that Heaven and Earth are also pure and simple, and they lack cunning. Once again, they are impartial. But oh! How much they can accomplish when active! And isn't it true of us as well? When we don't plot and scheme, when we do things without thinking of praise or reward, do we not look back and find those our most productive days? Think about days where the chores lasted all day, but the day simply flew by in a whirl of clock hands.

There is an alternate translation of "Much talk will of course come to a dead end" that I particularly like.
Much talk destroys truth.
When the Apollo astronauts landed on the moon, none except Apollo 17 with Harrison Schmitt was a trained scientist. All had scientific training, of course, but they were all in the military or former military, and that shaped their upbringing. No amount of cram studying could give them the education they needed to be a credible geologist. So was it any wonder that Earthbound geologists were so confused by the descriptions the astronauts gave, or the presumptions they made? Yet, Schmitt was credited with taking the most scientifically interesting lunar sample. He also took the photograph known as The Blue Marble, one of the most beautiful pictures ever taken of our home. There was no talking to try to guide Schmitt to an interesting sample, he simply knew because that was what he did.

The above also applies back to the Nameless. As we talk, we label and identify things. I do it now as I write. The words I write are not the same as the concepts in my mind, which are not the same as the actual thing. Names slowly fail us, in this respect, removing us further and further from the truth.

Tao te Ching: 4

What is it like outside? Temperate and sunny, with small white and silver clouds punctuating the blue.
Tao is empty (like a bowl),
it may be used but its capacity is never exhausted.
It is bottomless, perhaps the ancestor of all things.
It blunts its sharpness,
It unties its tangles.
It softens its light.
It becomes one with the dusty world.
Deep and still, it appears to exist forever.
I do not know whose son it is.
It seems to have existed before the Lord.
Instead of showing us what the Tao is good for (peaceful kingdoms, and so forth), Lao Tzu says that the Taois something that can be used by any or all. It never runs out, because the Tao applies to everything. If you lived your life with wu-wei, if you don't exhalt the worthy or seek rewards then you will be living in the Tao. Everything you do can be encompassed in the Tao.

Remember that according to Lao Tzu, it was the Named that separated things from the eternal Tao. First it was Heaven and Earth, and then everything else. Everything was originally part of that original Tao, and everything fits back into it once again. Hence, its capacity is never exhausted. Since everything came from it, it is the ancestor of all things. And because the true Tao is nameless and encompasses all, what progenitor could it have?
It blunts its sharpness,
It unties its tangles.
It softens its light.
It becomes one with the dusty world.
These verses repeat later in chapter 56, but I don't think that these are actions that the eternal Tao actually takes. Since the Tao is the ancestor of all things, it necessarily has all of the above. It has difficult and easy, long and short, just as chapter 2 describes.

Instead, I think this is advice to the sage. Blunt the sharpness of your cunning and your greed. Simplify your life. Do not shine so brightly. Simply be what you were meant to be.

Tao te Ching: 3

Do not exalt the worthy, so that the people shall not compete.
Do not value rare treasures, so that the people shall not steal.
Do not display objects of desire, so that the people's hearts shall not be disturbed.
Therefore in the government of the sage,
He keeps their hearts vacuous (hsü),
Fills their bellies,
Weakens their ambitions,
And strengthens their bones,
He causes his people to be without knowledge (cunning) or desire,
And the crafty to be afraid to act.
By acting without action, all things will be in order.
Finally we have Lao Tzu's why: all things will be in order. A society exists for the benefit of the people inside of it. If you don't have that, then you don't have a society but some othe rcollection of people. The sage, ruling over his kingdom needs to act in accordance with this (or not act, as wu-wei would have it, but remember that it doesn't mean inaction.) The kingdom can be your nation, state, city, household, or even yourself.

Lao Tzu continues with what we should and should not do with our newly discovered opposites. We've come from the Nameless to the Earth and Heaven, to naming all things, to realizing the opposite of things, to a code of behavior toward these things. Don't exhalt beauty, or treasures, and in the previous chapter Lao Tzu told the sage not to act for rewards or recognition. A new dynamic is born, don't seek recognition and praise and don't give recognition and praise when it comes to things. If you do, the category of haves and have-nots are born. The Buddhists recognize this very same concept with the Four Noble Truths. I'll address that in more detail in the next post, because I think it is important to look at how the beginnings of Tao te Ching compare to the most fundamental Buddhist teaching.

There are scary words in this english translation of the Tao te Ching. I try to put a clarifying word next to them in parentheses, especially where the texts I have read have done so. First, we have hsü, which is a state of mind of absolute peacefulness, purity of mind, and freedom from evil thoughts like selfishness and greed. It also means imperturbable. This vacuity is like an empty and calm sea. We can see cleanly through to the bottom and the wind never makes more than a ripple. Remember hsü, because Taoism thinks highly of it and as we discuss it more, we will start to see how it relates to Buddhism.

The other scary part is "to be without knowledge" but the author has already included the clarification of cunning. Cunning is a sly sort of intelligence. Cunning is always figuring out the angles and secrets. Cunning wants things to come out in a very specific way. Cunning is the antithesis of wu-wei. Lao Tzu instead says that the sage should keep his society peaceful, content, and strong, but without cunning goals and ambition toward the "good things" because cunning and ambition leads to greed, and that greed destroys wu-wei and creates the haves and the have-nots.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Tao te Ching: 2

What is it like outside? Light and breezy with pale gray clouds covering the sky. Silver drops of rain rest on green leaves.

When the people of the world all know beauty as beauty,
There arises recognition of ugliness.
When they all know the good as good,
There arises the recognition of evil
Therefore:
Being and non-being produce each other;
Difficult and easy complete each other;
Long and short contrast each other;
High and low distinguish each other;
Sound and voice harmonize with each other;
Front and back follow each other.
Therefore the sage manages affairs without action (wu-wei),
And spreads doctrines without words.
All things arise, but he does not turn away from them.
He produces them, but he does not take possession of them.
He acts, but does not rely on his own ability.
He accomplishes his task, but does not claim credit for it.
It is precisely because he does not claim credit that his accomplishment remains with him.
Lao Tzu and Gautama Buddha might have been contemporaries. Tradition holds that Lao Tzu lived in the 6th century BCE, but the literary style suggests that the book may have been written in the 4th century BCE. It is possible that the Tao te Ching was written by followers of Lao Tzu rather than by the man himself, much the same way that many of the Christian gospels have literary patterns that suggest they were written many years after the events that they describe. It is also possible that hundreds of years of transcription, and possible blatant rewrites, will obscure the actual time frame of writing forever.

The dates of the Buddha's lifespan are a little more firm, placing his birth at 563 BCE and death at 483 BCE. This gives some latitude that leads to an overlap. That disclaimer aside, so we can lay to rest about which school of philosophy existed first, it is assuredly true that Taoism predates Zen (Ch'an). Zen was first taught by early Buddhist masters somewhere between 150 and 450 CE.

This is striking because here we find the origin of the silent teaching.
And spreads doctrines without words.
In fact, the Zen school starts because Chinese Taoism influences Indian Buddhism when it comes to Japan. I'll have to address that at a later time, because that is history and I want to look at the text of the chapter.

Continuing on from the first chapter and the idea that naming the Nameless causes there to be distinct things instead of an inclusive one-ness, Lao Tzu says here that by naming a thing we name its opposite. If we recognize good, we find evil. If we recognize beauty, we find ugliness. He lists several pairs, and I think it is only the art of writing and translation that gives us the different methods of comparing the terms. Each thing listed has its opposite, though I suspect that "sound" in the mention of "sound and voice" is actually melody, as played by an instrument.

We also come upon wu-wei  for the first time here. Wu is non-being, and yu is being. So in wu-wei we have the non-being combined with action, but it doesn't simply mean inaction. It means to take no unnatural action, in this context. So the sage rules his kingdom by taking no unnatural action. He doesn't own his work, he doesn't brag, and he doesn't do it for the money. It doesn't even cover why it is done, yet, but simply how it was done.

I've experienced this. I think that most of us have before. Imagine that you have spent the entire day doing chores and running errands. You have to buy cereal, pick up the dry cleaning, and fold the laundry. At the end of the day there is a positive feeling of accomplishment, but you didn't do it for admiration, recognition, or do anything at all other than the task in front of you. This is the first step.

Tao te Ching: 1

How is it outside? 68, still, misty and darkly overcast.

The Tao (Way) that can be told of is not the eternal Tao;
The name that can be named is not the eternal name.
The Nameless is the origin of Heaven and Earth;
The Named is the mother of all things.
Therefore let there always be non-being so we may see their subtlety,
And let there always be being so we may see their outcome.
The two are the same,
But after they are produced, they have different names.
They both may be called deep and profound (hsüan),
Deeper and more profound,
The door of all subtleties!
Lao Tzu (Laozi is a nother translation) says that the things that you can name and describe aren't the actual thing. I can tell you all about me, I can tell you my name, but it still isn't me. The unnamed thing is the thing.

There is an everything, the one, the Tao and it exists. When you name things, you separate them from the whole. It has become an individual entity. Naming Heaven and Earth separates them from the Tao, and still the thing called Heaven and the thing called Earth aren't really those things. Perhaps, they're not only those things. Still, Taoist philosophy isn't the only one that holds to this. Echos of this reside in Genesis, for instance. Let there be light. Let there be water and land. Let there be stars.

Once we start naming things, we have to name them all, or else how will we know what we're talking about? The Latin word for this is quiddity, which means something's "whatness" or "what it is." From the Tao is nameless, and from that are Heaven and Earth, the first of the named things. We begin to name things.
What is that? That is a chair.
This continues past quiddity into haecceity, which is the quality of "thisness."
What is this? This is my chair, with armrests, that I made. There is no other chair like it.
Haecceity ever increases. Soon it isn't just my chair, but it becomes "this concept" or "this collection of molecules" or "this binding of superstings and subdimensions." The door of all subtleties indeed.

Sleepless Nights

How is it outside? 71 F, breezy and damp. It smells good outside.

If I were a gambling man, I would wager that the number of blogs started in the wee hours of the morning is a sizable one. Instead of picking a spread, there would be options as to why it was started: things like mania or insomnia. I would go with insomnia.

As fortune would have it, I am not a gambler. I never saw the attraction.

I have been thinking about insomnia a lot lately. I've been subject to it all my life. My family, especially my mother, have recurring bouts as well. Most of my friends have it, or have had it.

I once read that insomnia is a sign of depression, and I think that sounds right. Insomnia is also indicated by many other things. For the moment, mine is fueled by a racing imagination. I am anticipating, planning, creating and other things. Sometimes this is good. Sometimes it is not.

Reading and meditation calm my mind, and I have always found inspiration in the Tao te Ching, though it's path isn't that of Buddhism. I'm not married to the idea of being Buddhist though, but because it is testable and functional I stay with it for as long as it continues to be so. I'll start tomorrow with the passages.

This is my first step.