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.

Balance...ecnalaB

The symbol of Tai Ji (you can see the image to the left, under the poem by Ts'ai-ken T'an) is a symbol almost everyone knows, but most just call it the "Yin Yang" symbol. And that is what it represents. Yin and Yang.

What is so cool about this theory is how it really represents a duality in life. Both yin and yang exist. In everything. At all times. Kind of like electron particles behaving like waves. Duality.

Which totally makes sense to me, because I've never truly felt black and white about anything. (Which is probably why my gall bladder keeps acting up. It's supposed to the the main organ involved in decision making. Sigh.)

So you may know that Yang represents the sun, heaven, active, bright. Yin represents the moon, earth, rest, shade. And when I ask anyone around here to quantify those qualities - ask them which are good qualities, which would they have in their lives - they all point to the yang qualities. (Except for moms with newborns. They're always lured by the word "rest.")

So I'm not sure what this means. Is it because our culture (I'm speaking of American culture) that we vibrate to yang qualities? Remember when people used to say "active"? It's not good enough for us, we have to be "pro-active." We've got to be plugged in to something - computer, music, cell phone, gameboys, television, i-whatevers, cube-thingies, x-baggies. Our kids are even trained at a young, young age to think fast, move (in their games, anyway) fast, eat fast.

I read an article by a Buddhist monk who reminisced about a bell that rang three times a day in his village. Every time the bell rang, everyone in the village stopped. They just stopped and became aware.

For several minutes they held that space, filling it with compassion and love. And soon, grounded again, they resumed their day.

Wow. What an incredible thing that must have been. A whole village stopping to just be. Can you imagine the power of that? That would just be the coolest thing.

So, tonight I'm going to try it with my family and then I'm off to teach class and I'm going to try it there, too.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Hey! You try it too. Freak people out at work or in a classroom or in a grocery store: bring in a bell, ring it and then just stand there smiling, appreciating life.

Sung: It's not just for former singers

Hmmm...think about how many times you've been looking forward to just collapsing on the couch with a good movie and a glass of your favorite sippin' juice.

Body is nice and comfy laying there. Sippin' juice is cool - or warm, you know, depending on what you like. Muscles finally able to relax after a long week of working or studying...ahhh...

But what's this?? What do my spidey senses pick up? Outwardly the body isn't doing anything, it's true, but something on the radar is being picked up. An unholy buzz. We look deeper to find it...

A lot of times, even though we think we're relaxed on the couch, our brain continues to analyze... produce thoughts, ideas and opinions. It continues to think critically, pass judgment. The brain is not disconnected from the rest of the body. When the brain is working on all of these ideas, it's also sending out messages for the body to respond. So when something you are watching on television invites you to become involved emotionally, your whole body gets involved.

And it's anything BUT relaxed. The brain sends a message to the adrenals to move out some epinephrine into the system to take care of the incoming stress that is being perceived. The heart rate also increases along with blood pressure. Your organs also respond by slowing down to conserve energy for fighting the perceived stress. Which, in turn, causes gas, diarrhea, or possibly constipation. Maybe a hemorrhoid or two?

Never realized how dangerous laying on a couch could be, huh?

It'll kill you.

Okay, maybe not. What will kill you over time, or at least play a negative role on your longterm health, is stress. And we have to understand the real definition of relaxation.

It isn't collapsing on a couch for an evening, trails of the weeks antics leading your around and around in your mind.

In taiji the word is "sung" (also "song") and it means relaxed, but in a much deeper sense that we in the western world have misplaced somewhere. Sung is a relaxed body, but a body that also has structure. Sung is a relaxed spirit open to its surroundings, but not relying on them. The spirit is even: not overjoyed, not depressed. Sung is a relaxed mind: clear of thoughts that create drama - like a political election or a topic like abortion. When you are sung, these things just are. Not right or wrong. Not good or bad. Not evil or saintly. They just are.

In a sung place it is quiet. It is even. It just is.

And you create sung - whether it starts in a dim room by yourself for three minutes every day, just allowing your mind, body and spirit to be; or when it is during a heated confrontation with a co-worker who you struggle to understand.

With your mind, spirit and body not reacting - it learns to respond...from a place of compassion, love and connection.

Next time you feel exhausted and want to lie on the couch - go ahead. But remember the exhaustion extends to your spirit, your mind and your body. Give them all a break. Breathe in. Breathe out. Follow your breath as it expands and releases your belly. Let your thoughts dissolve and keep following your breath with your mind. Allow yourself to release your anxious spirit and tense body.

Become sung.