Being

Quiet drops develop. There they are. Just being. Quiet within the noise. Stillness within movement.

Taking sides

Verse 5 of the Tao Te Ching

The Tao doesn't take sides;
it gives birth to both good and evil.
The Master doesn't take sides
she welcomes both saints and sinner.

The Tao is like a bellows;
it is empty yet infinitely capable.
The more you use it, the more it produces,
the more you talk of it, the less you understand.

Hold on to the centre.



I don't know about you, but I was raised to take a stand. If there was an injustice, I was taught to expose it, shame the producers of it, and then eradicate it.

I was the offspring of Civil Rights Movement parents who really worked toward equality between black and white people in the United States. They worked to erase redlining in housing districts, put an end to police violence and profiling, balance the massive educational inequalities, and obliterate inhumane treatment of African Americans. Civil Rights advocates brought justice to criminals who carried out racist acts or allowed them to happen. Advocates worked to remove racists from office or at least jail them for their crimes. It was a divisive time. People were polarized. Even those working to erase racial lines were drawing lines of their own: Rich vs. poor. Young vs. old ("Don't trust anyone over 30"). Republican vs. democrat.

It was fuel for the fire of change.

So talking about not taking sides isn't an easy one for me. Clearly, aren't sides important? Wasn't all of that work for equality for a reason? Clearly, CLEARLY, we have things to accomplish still in the area of civil rights - but doesn't the civil rights movement beautifully illustrate that taking sides, making a stand, IS important?

So living in "Tao" is living without taking sides? How can I possibly do this in this world of inequality, oppression, hatred? How can one do that when we so value describing people things as beautiful or ugly, smart or stupid, worthless or an idol?

The first time I read this, I shook my head. That is, until I read the last sentence. Hold on to the centre. That stuck me in the gut. And the image I have in my brain, looking back (although I was pretty darned young during the 60s and 70s), is that we, as a nation, were so far away from the center that a jolt back to it had to come. The country was so divided. So angry. So opinionated. So frustrated (hmmm...this sounds familiar...). So oppressed.

Something had to give. Something bold had to explode from such a culmination of the energy of a nation of people at a boiling point.

And maybe it knocked us back toward the center. Maybe that was the overall point.

Living closer to the center, i.e. in balance, I know that I no longer feel the need to take a side, judge good and evil, separate sinners and saints. When I'm balanced, the need just isn't there. And honestly, I have the ability to be both saint or sinner for a reason. We need both - balance.

I'm not advocating going out and committing crimes, and then turning around and sincerely apologizing in order to stay in balance. But I am beginning to see that evaluating what is right/wrong, good/bad, painful/pleasant is useless because in the long run it all just...is. In the big picture, not in specific circumstances, it all just is. Whether by mistake or by intention.

What happens in life, whether it's on a personal or national level, just is. Like the bellows opening and closing. It may be fanning the flame to make it grow. It may just blow the flame out. Either way it isn't the end. Just a shift. Another flame comes. Infinitely capable.

So now I'm going to quit chatting about it, clear out the drama, stay centered and live.

See ya.




Other translations:

Nature is not kind;
It treats all things impartially.
The Sage is not kind,
And treats all people impartially.
Nature is like a bellows,
Empty, yet never ceasing its supply.
The more it moves, the more it yields;
So the sage draws upon experience
And cannot be exhausted.

translation by P. Merel


Nature acts without intent,
so cannot be described
as acting with benevolence,
nor malevolence to any thing.

In this respect, the Tao is just the same,
though in reality it should be said
that nature follows the rule of Tao.

Therefore, even when he seems to act
in manner kind or benevolent,
the sage is not acting with such intent,
for in conscious matters such as these,
he is amoral and indifferent.

The sage retains tranquility,
and is not by speech or thought disturbed,
and even less by action which is contrived.
His actions are spontaneous,
as are his deeds towards his fellow men.

By this means he is empty of desire,
and his energy is not drained from him.

-S. Rosenthal

Defining the Undefinable

Tao Te Ching Verse 4
I'm a bit warmer to this translation but I'll add Steven Mitchell's below it:

The Tao is an empty vessel; it is used, but never filled.
Oh, unfathomable source of ten thousand things!
Blunt the sharpness,
Untangle the knot,
Soften the glare,
Merge with dust.
Oh, hidden deep but ever present!
I do not know from whence it comes.
It is the forefather of the emperors.

Steven Mitchell's version:

The Tao is like a well:
Used, but never used up
It is like the eternal void:
filled with infinite possibilities.

It is hidden but always present.
I don't know who gave birth to it.
It is older than God.


I used to think that the Tao was another name we could give 'love'. Love is unending. Like the eternal void in this verse. Filled with possibility. Love guides, connects, fills.

When I feel really connected, not only with people around me, but with the moment (you know, not spending this moment thinking about all of the things I have to do, or maybe should have done, or possibly could have done...) I feel love. I am moved to act in loving ways. Listening deeply. Responding instead of reacting. Being instead of doing.

But there have been just as many times when I've been moved by anger...seemingly unending anger! Usually it happens when I've allowed myself to take on much more than I'm able to do and I've had enough. Enough deadlines, caretaking, phone calls, cleaning, emotional drama, disrespect from clients and family, cat hair. You know: enough. And to cut it all off quickly I throw out a few select sharp words in a tone and volume no one can misunderstand - and just for good measure some loud noise like a door slamming or a pounding fist. Whichever seems to be the most effective in making a quick change in the immediate circumstance. The anger gave me what I needed: solitude, disconnection, clearing out. I said yes to too many people, let my boundaries down and I had to have a quick and dirty retreat. At the moment anger was a means to an end.

So if love is Tao, shouldn't anger be Tao also? Anger sometimes feels unending: used, but never used up. Many times filled with infinite possibilities.

And I think back to all of the times anger has saved me over the years. Anger, initially, can spark dramatic change. I remember giving birth to my first child. The umbilical cord was prolapsed, cutting off oxygen to my daughter. The doctor told the staff to prep me now for immediate surgery, so they started milling about to prepare. The doctor dropped into a fury: "I SAID NOW!!" he boomed. His anger (and fear of possibly losing the baby) shook them up and we were in surgery in no time. It was amazing. It was also anger that saved me, when in college, from being pulled down an alley by two drunk young men - fighting and yelling in anger made them take off. It was initially anger, a few years ago, that made me defend several young kids who were being lured into a fight by boys seven to eight years older.

Anger isn't the Tao. No emotion is. Not love. Not peace. Not anger. Tao is not a feeling.

But we always feel better when we can define, describe, compare, evaluate what something is. We have such a need to define that we sometimes do it by what it is not! Because with these descriptions, definitions, comparisons, evaluations...we feel that we know. We understand.

And above all, we have to understand. Wrap our brains around it. Know.

This is how I approached understanding "Tao". This was the only way I knew how to approach it. Break it down into what it's made of, how it works, what it feels like, looks like, tastes like, smells like.

But Tao is different. I had to get over that. Because it is none of those things. It just is.

And to understand it, I really had to work hard. I worked to blunt my sharpness: to stop defining what everything is and is not. Worked to untangle my knots: my stress, anger, love, happiness, curiosity. I had to soften my glare: no more judgment, evaluations, constant thinking. I had to merge with the dust: for a moment, just a moment, believe that I am not separate from anything - ANYTHING: from the stained carpet beneath my feet, from the barking dog outside, from wars beyond my country's borders, from miniscule ants living under rocks, from the garbage lying in the bins outside.

The more I am able to smooth, untangle, soften, merge life's circumstances, that's when I begin to understand Tao, and only then. Because when I don't get it, I realize I'm trying too hard.

There really isn't anything to get.

There is only to be.

Part B: Tao Te Ching V. 2

I posted about this verse earlier in the month, but I had to split it up because there's such depth to its simplicity. For those who haven't read it, I've pasted a copy of the entire verse at the end of this post.

Lao Tzu spends a great amount of time writing about the worthlessness of spending time judging and evaluating: whether it's about a situation, a person, an act, a behavior. What he simply states is that seeing things as they are, without having to qualify, evaluate, or label leads to a much happier, less stressful way of living. Living in the flow of life, rather than fighting against it.

Put yourself into a situation where you might judge someone. In fact, I'll offer up a scenario that I've seen play out. Let's say you just moved into a new home. It's spring. Everything is green and lush. And as the summer approaches you notice little flags decorating your neighbors' yards warning people that their lawns have been doused with chemicals. "Idiots!" you cry as you watch your cat walk across the neighbor's lawn looking for small rodents to chew. "These idiots care more about their curb appeal than they do the environment they're poisoning!!" You run after your cat, ready to give your neighbor an earful of organic gardening advice.

Or, if that doesn't fit, try this one: let's say you just moved into a new fixer-upper home. It's spring. Everything is green and lush. As the summer approaches you notice little yellow dandelion heads emerging from your neighbors' yards. Your yard is the only one that is tightly manicured. "Idiots!" you cry as you watch your cat walk across their weed-ridden lawn looking for small rodents to chew. "These idiots don't give a damned about their homes! Look at this street! No matter what I do to this house, there's no way it'll sell well with these surroundings!" You charge outside ready to give you neighbor an earful about lawn maintenance.

"When people see some things as beautiful,
other things become ugly.
When people see some things as good,
other things become bad."

Now, what Lao Tzu offers as an alternative to hating your chemical- or organic-happy neighbors is this: we will all be faced with life situations that challenge us to either judge or observe. So when he writes the following:

Being and non-being create each other.
Difficult and easy support each other.
Long and short define each other.
High and low depend on each other.
Before and after follow each other.

what he is saying is both sides of every story, of every event, of every life situation will always be there. Whether difficult or easy, long or short, high, low, before, after. These will always be. Do you want to wrap yourself up in the emotion of these situations? Do you want to increase your anger, irritation, frustration? Or would you rather observe the situation, connect with those involved, agree to disagree and move on without the drama?

'Well, sure, Lao. I'd rather observe to save my blood pressure. But you don't understand, cause your old. And dead. Here's the deal: People who spray their lawns are idiots! I need to let them know this. I must educate them.'

He's got an answer to that as well:

Therefore the Master
acts without doing anything
and teaches without saying anything.
Things arise and she lets them come
things disappear and she lets them go.
She has but doesn't possess,
acts but doesn't expect.
When her work is done, she forgets it.
That is why it lasts forever.

You act without doing anything: you just live. Work on your organic lawn. Who knows, maybe you'll inspire a neighbor to do the same. But Lao Tzu doesn't even care about that egoic thought. He's just sayin': live, without expectation, without judgment, without evaluating every step. Just live. Go, without ego, GO.

I don't know about you, but to me, THAT's the way I want to live. Simple.

But not easy.

Oh, man, it takes work to be an observer. A couple of nights ago at a movie theater I watched a couple bring their young children into a violent "R" rated movie. I had a really hard time "observing" that one. I have a hard time"observing" anything I read or watch that is political. I have a hard time "observing" the bagger lady who beats up my groceries.

But those times when I can? Like when someone cuts me off on the highway? Or when my purse or phone is stolen? Or when I am dismissed in a business meeting because I'm female (yes, it still happens). But for some reason, those things don't trigger my judge. Although I may not agree with the situation, I can understand it. I understand people who may be in a panicked rush on the highway. I understand people who are desperate enough to steal. I can understand prejudice. It just is and I understand it.

The practice of observing doesn't mean that you agree or disagree. That's making a judgment. The practice of observing is allowing it to be: no rising blood pressure, no frustration, no excitement. Not attached to the outcome.

I always get the image of a screen filter. When I'm observing, the mesh of the filter is very forgiving and open. It allows things to flow. My emotions are even and welcoming. I feel warm and inviting.

When I'm critical and full of evaluations, the filter is speck fine. Everything gets trapped. I feel irritated. I don't let anyone get away with anything. I feel critical, calculating, frustrated, angry.

During those times, I really need tai chi.

For me, Tai Chi puts into a physical form the ability to observe. Moving through the postures, I empty my mind of everything (...or try) and bring my intention and attention to the present moment, feeling my way through each movement. I observe the texture of the movements, the inhale, the exhale. I feel them without judging, without criticizing myself for not doing it "perfectly." It's minutes out of a day where I practice holding the space of "being." And working toward taking that space with me for the rest of the day.

Peace.

Verse 2

When people see some things as beautiful,
other things become ugly.
When people see some things as good,
other things become bad.

Being and non-being create each other.
Difficult and easy support each other.
Long and short define each other.
High and low depend on each other.
Before and after follow each other.

Therefore the Master
acts without doing anything
and teaches without saying anything.
Things arise and she lets them come'
things disappear and she lets them go.

She has but doesn't possess,
acts but doesn't expect.
When her work is done, she forgets it.
That is why it lasts forever.