Know the male,
yet keep to the female;
receive the world in your arms.
If you receive the world,
the Tao will never leave you
and you will be like a little child.

Know the white,
yet keep to the black;
be a pattern for the world.
If you are a pattern for the world,
the Tao will be strong inside you
and there will be nothing you can’t do.

Know the personal,
yet keep to the impersonal;
accept the world as it is.
If you accept the world,
the Tao will be luminous inside you
and you will return to your primal self.

The world is formed from the void,
like utensils from a block of wood.
The Master knows the utensils,
yet keeps to to the block;
thus she can use all things.

-Lao Tzu-
(Tao Te Ching, chapter 28, translation by Stephen Mitchell)

We have been talking about how our relationship with the world is indicative of our relationship with the Tao. When we see the world as self, our connection with the Tao is what it what it should be. But when we see the self as self, our connection with the Tao is not what it should be. That is the eternal reality, the way things are. Humans are one of the four great powers. It is because we follow the Earth, which follows the Universe, which follows the Tao. It isn’t hard to pick up on the natural rhythms, the vibrations, of the Tao as it flows through all things, inside and outside, and returns to the origin of all things. To pick up on it, you merely have to observe yin and yang as they bring about balance and harmony, the emergent order.

Today, Lao Tzu continues talking about how the world and your self relate to each other. And once again, yin and yang are front and center. Three times, Lao Tzu says, know the yang, yet keep to the yin. Male, white, and personal are all yang. Female, black, and impersonal are all yin. Now, all we need to do is understand what Lao Tzu means by “know” and “keep to”. He doesn’t mean that we are to prefer one over the other. Yin isn’t good and yang bad. Or vice versa. Ultimately, they balance each other out. And that is what he means by saying, know the yang yet keep to the yin.

He begins by saying know the male, yet keep to female. The result will be, you receive the world in your arms. This is powerful imagery to me. Receiving the world in your arms like a little child. The union of male and female produces a little child. And, when you see the world as self, that little child you receive in your arms is your self. The Tao will never leave you. That is what the balancing of yin and yang produces in your life.

He tells us to know the white, yet keep to the black. When you let white and black balance out, you are a pattern for the world. There is a progression here, if we are paying attention. Knowing the male, yet keeping to the female meant receiving the world in your arms like a little child. Now, that we have that little child, what are we supposed to do with it? Well, what is the responsibility of parents? Be a pattern for that child. Don’t read more into this than what I intend. I don’t mean we are the parents of the world. I am merely using the metaphor of the world as little child. But, of course, the world is your self. So, you, too, are that little child. Be a pattern for it, and the Tao will be strong inside you and there will be nothing you can’t do. Do you see how your relationship with the Tao depends on the relationship of your self with the world? It is vital that you do.

You and the world are like a little child. You are a pattern for the world. But now, here is where it gets real interesting. He tells us to know the personal, yet keep to the impersonal. This just screams out to me, “Don’t take things so personally!” And what Lao Tzu is talking about is accepting things we can not change. We make things personal. And we won’t let go. We then have desires to interfere, well up within us. We simply must accept the world, just as it is. Oh, we can hold it in our arms, we can be a pattern for it. But beyond that, it is time to accept the world, just as it is. Then, the Tao will be luminous inside you and you will return to your primal self.

You will return to your primal self. What does he mean by that? Remembering that you are to see the world as your self, Lao Tzu explains how the world is formed. There is a lesson here for all of our selves. The world is formed from the void, like utensils are formed from a block of wood. The Master knows the utensils; in other words, the Master knows the way the world is. Yet, the Master keeps to the block; continuing the analogy, that means the Master keeps to the void. Yes, this is yang and yin, again. Your primal self is your connection with the eternal void. That connection with the Source, with the Origin, puts you in a position to use all things. I liken it to being on the event horizon of a black hole. You are there, right there, where you can use whatever comes your way.

Use it however you want.

A good traveler has no fixed plans
and is not intent upon arriving.
A good artist lets his intuition
lead him wherever it wants.
A good scientist has freed himself of concepts
and keeps his mind open to what is.

Thus the Master is available to all people
and doesn’t reject anyone.
He is ready to use all situations
and doesn’t waste anything.
This is called embodying the light.

What is a good man but a bad man’s teacher?
What is a bad man but a good man’s job?
If you don’t understand this, you will get lost,
however intelligent you are.
It is the great secret.

-Lao Tzu-
(Tao Te Ching, chapter 27, translation by Stephen Mitchell)

Yesterday, Lao Tzu talked a lot about traveling. He said our travels (our every movement) is light. But, if we want to avoid flitting about like fools, we need to be rooted in something heavy, the unmoved. That, he called our home. Not a physical house, but our selves. We must never lose touch with who we are. If we don’t want to be blown to and fro, we need to stay serenely in ourselves, no matter how splendid the views. If we let restlessness move us we will lose touch with who we are.

Yesterday’s emphasis was on the heavy. But, yin and yang, being what they are, you just had to know he would be talking about light, today. We understand the importance of the heavy. Now, we will see the importance of embodying the light.

So, what does he mean by embodying the light?

To explain himself, he uses three metaphors to describe humans. The first, a good traveler, makes sense, since our context from yesterday involved traveling. We are all travelers in this life. Our every movement is traveling. But some of us may not think we are very good artists or very good scientists. And some, no doubt, think you couldn’t be both at the same time. Of course, art and science, just like travels, yesterday, have other connotations than we may at first realize. I find myself thinking of the Tao Te Ching, as the art of living. Living is an art. So, in that context, you and I are very much artists. Likewise, what is science, if it isn’t observing the world around us and seeing what makes the world go round? We are all observers of the natural order, seeing the ebb and flow, and going with it. In that sense, we are all scientists, as well.

So, we are all travelers, artists, and scientists. But, it is embodying the light that makes us good travelers, artists, and scientists. But, I still haven’t answered the question, “What does he mean by embodying the light?”

Remember, yesterday, when he said to never lose touch with who you are? It is because we have lost touch with who we are that we flit about like fools. Never lose touch with your self. Remember, also, not to see the self as self. Instead, see the world as self. I and the world, are one. That is who we are.

Realizing that, embodying the light means being available to all people and not rejecting anyone. It means being ready to use all situations and not wasting anything.

How does a good traveler do this? In order to embody the light, a good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving. Those fixed plans and your intent make you unavailable to people. You’ll have to reject some. Situations will arise that you won’t be ready for. There will be lots of waste. We can be good travelers. But we can also be bad travelers.

How does a good artist embody the light? To do this a good artist lets his intuition lead him wherever it wants. The art of living is intuitive. You need to learn to be intuitive, and trust your intuition, letting it lead you, where it wants. When we aren’t led by our intuition, we won’t be available to all people. Some people will be rejected. And we won’t be ready for every situation which may arise. So many opportunities will be wasted. We can be good artists. But we can also be bad artists.

How does a good scientist embody the light? A good scientist has freed himself of concepts and keeps his mind open to what is. All good scientists know this is true. Every time you make an observation that doesn’t jive with the way you think things should be, that has to make you rethink the ways you are thinking things. Somewhere along the way you have messed up. Either your results are wrong, or your concepts were wrong. You can’t be bound by those concepts. You need to be free. Your mind must be open to what is, the eternal reality. We can be good scientists. But we can also be bad scientists. We can be rigid in our thinking, insisting that everything has to be just so, regardless what we observe to the contrary. But when we do that, people and ideas get rejected. Situations, that could have been a source of enlightenment, are wasted.

We can be good and we can be bad. This isn’t a discussion of good vs. evil. Bad, here, just means we aren’t good at what we are doing, whether it is traveling, art, or science. And that leads us to Lao Tzu’s point on why we need to embody the light. When Lao Tzu is talking of the good man and the bad man he is talking about the relationship between the master and the apprentice, the teacher and the student.

What is a good man but a bad man’s teacher? What is a bad man but a good man’s job. If you are a good man, you can be sure that opportunities will abound, situations will arise, where bad men will be put in your path. The same is true if you are a bad man, in need of a good man. We need to embody the light to be available to all people. So we won’t have to reject anyone. We need to be ready to use all situations, and not waste anything.

We were worried yesterday about flitting about like fools. That is why we wanted to make sure we were rooted to the heavy. Never losing touch with who we are. But embodying the light is just as important. If you don’t understand this, you will get lost. And it won’t matter how intelligent you are. Sometimes the most intelligent get the most lost. Why? Because, often, the things we think we know keep us from realizing the great secret.

We need each other. That is the whole point of seeing the world as self rather than the self as self. We need each other. Good men need bad men; and, bad men need good men. Realize this great secret and you won’t get lost.

The heavy is the root of the light.
The unmoved is the source of all movement.

Thus the Master travels all day
without leaving home.
However splendid the views,
she stays serenely in herself.

Why should the lord of the country
flit about like a fool?
If you let yourself be blown to and fro,
you lose touch with your root.
If you let restlessness move you,
you lose touch with who you are.

-Lao Tzu-
(Tao Te Ching, chapter 26, translation by Stephen Mitchell)

Yesterday, Lao Tzu referred to humans as one of the four great powers. Today, he refers to us as lords. Like I said, yesterday, Lao Tzu thinks very highly of us, humans. It could be said that he thinks so highly of us, he sometimes scratches, or shakes, his head and wonders, “Why?” as in, “Why should the lord of the country flit about like a fool?” He has enough respect for us, that he confronts us when we are behaving like fools; and he sets us on a better course. That is what today’s chapter is about.

Once again, Lao Tzu brings us back to yin and yang. That is something we have been talking about since chapter two: Yin and yang create each other, they support each other, they define each other, they depend on each other, they follow each other.

We were talking, yesterday about how we humans follow the Earth, the Earth follows the Universe, the Universe follows the Tao, and the Tao follows only itself. That word, follow, is so important because it demonstrates our relationship with the Tao. We follow the Tao as it flows through all things, inside and outside, and returns to the origin of all things.

And, yin and yang follow each other to bring about balance and harmony, order emerging out of chaos. Today’s yin and yang are the heavy and the light, the unmoved as the source of all movement.

To illustrate the relationship between yin and yang, the heavy and the light, the unmoved and all movement, Lao Tzu points, again, at the Master. He says the Master travels all day without leaving home. Home, here, is the heavy, the unmoved. While the Master’s travels are light, all movement.

Travels, here, are whatever you are doing throughout your day, whether near, or far away from home. That word, travels, doesn’t just mean you are on some long journey. Perhaps your travels are from your bed to your computer, or to the kitchen, or to the bathroom. Perhaps it is out your back door for a stroll in your garden. Perhaps it is to town. Or, to work. Or, perhaps it is on some journey far away from home, whether for business or pleasure. It doesn’t matter. Lao Tzu’s point is that travels are light. They are your every move.

The Master’s every move is rooted. Her light is rooted in something heavy, something that remains unmoved. Each and every day, that is her source. That is where she “stays” no matter how very far she may roam.

Home is the master’s root. It is where she stays. Home, here, isn’t referring to a physical house. To use a well-known cliché, home is where the heart is. Where her heart is, is herself. It is who she is. That is her root. It is the unmoved source of all her movement. No matter where her travels may take her, no matter how splendid the views, she stays serenely in herself. She never loses touch with who she is.

She is our example for how to live our lives, for how to stay serenely in ourselves, for how to never lose touch with our root, for how to never lose touch with who we are.

We humans are one of the four great powers. We have the power to choose our own destinies. We don’t have to sit idly by, while forces we are the lords and masters of, blow us every which way. “Letting” is a powerful force we have at our disposal. But there are some things we shouldn’t “let” happen. Like, letting ourselves be blown to and fro. Or, letting restlessness move us. Why should the lord of the country flit about like a fool?

What moves you? Is the unmoved your source for all movement? Or, is restlessness what moves you? Are you rooted? Or, are you blown to and fro? Don’t be a fool! Don’t lose touch with your root! Don’t lose touch with who you are!

There was something formless and perfect
before the universe was born.
It is serene. Empty.
Solitary. Unchanging.
Infinite. Eternally present.
It is the mother of the universe.
For lack of a better name,
I call it the Tao.

It flows through all things,
inside and outside, and returns
to the origin of all things.

The Tao is great.
The universe is great.
Earth is great.
Man is great.
These are the four great powers.

Man follows the earth.
Earth follows the universe.
The universe follows the Tao.
The Tao follows only itself.

-Lao Tzu-

(Tao Te Ching, chapter 25, translation by Stephen Mitchell)

Back in chapter twenty-one, we were talking about how ungraspable, dark, and unfathomable the Tao is. Lao Tzu said, “Since before time and space were, the Tao is. It is beyond is and is not.” Today, he returns to talking about that “something” that is both before and beyond. How do you even begin to talk about “something” like that? How can something be without form and perfect? This oxymoron can only be explained by saying the Tao is beyond is and is not.

Lao Tzu goes way, way back in today’s chapter. Back to before space and time were. Back to before the Universe was born. There he points at what, for lack of a better name, he calls the Tao. Serene. Empty. Solitary. Unchanging. Infinite. Eternally present. These are all words, pregnant with meaning. And what else would we expect? The Tao is, after all, the Mother of the Universe.

None of those are new concepts for those of us that have been reading along in the Tao Te Ching. Lao Tzu has been describing the Tao, all along, using terms very much like these. Our concern is with how we can possibly be at one with it. And Lao Tzu has already confirmed it is impossible for us to do anything to make it happen. Impossible, save one very important thing. We can’t make it happen. But we can let it happen.

Letting it happen is a matter of realizing its flow through all things. As we realize how it flows inside and outside, always returning to the origin, we find we, too, are going with that flow. It isn’t a matter of exerting the right kind of effort to make that happen. It is a spontaneous and intuitive reality. When we are open to the Tao and trust our natural responses, everything just falls into place.

I call that “everything falling into place” the emergent order. It is the eternal reality, the way things are. And, today, Lao Tzu offers us just a glimpse at how it all flows.

He speaks of four great powers in descending order of greatness. Of course, he lists the Tao first. The Tao is the origin of all things. The Tao precedes them all. It has no beginning and no end. The Tao is the greatest of the great powers. Because the Tao precedes everything, it follows only itself.

The Tao gives birth to the Universe. How long has the Universe been around? I don’t know. It is very old. The only thing that precedes it is the Tao. The Universe follows the Tao; that is what makes it the second of the great powers.

Some time after the Universe was born, the Earth was formed. How long has the Earth been around? Once again, I don’t know. I just know it came after the Universe. Because it follows the Universe, the Earth is the third of the great powers.

Some time after the Earth was formed, along came humans. Trying to decide how long humans have been around, is just as challenging as trying to figure out the age of the Earth, or the age of the Universe. I saw in the news earlier this week, how a burial site was discovered in south Africa. Because the bones that have been discovered cannot be dated with any degree of accuracy, and given that these “humans” had brains a third of the size of modern humans – yet, they are thought to have been performing burial rites we have heretofore reserved for more modern species of humans, it throws into question a lot of our understanding of human evolution. This story fascinates me, because I think the whole question of what it means to be human is a fascinating one. I don’t doubt that as we continue to evolve, future “humans” will look back on today’s humans. and consider us primitive. Perhaps, too primitive to be called “human”. But maybe that whole discussion would be best saved for another platform. Lao Tzu has a very high opinion of us humans. He calls us one of the four great powers. Because we follow the Earth, we are the fourth greatest power.

I said this is Lao Tzu giving us a glimpse into how it all flows; how everything falls into place. I said that humans follow the Earth; and that is what makes us great. And that word “follow” doesn’t just mean “we came after” the Earth. Over and over again, Lao Tzu enjoins us to learn to follow the Tao. Yet, that would seem to be completely beyond anything we could ever do. The Tao is before and beyond; it is ungraspable, dark, and unfathomable. But Lao Tzu shows us how we are to follow the Tao. It is all about our relationship with the Earth. And the Earth’s relationship with the Universe. And the Universe’s relationship with the Tao. Our relationship with the Earth is our model for learning to follow the Tao, as we follow the Earth, as it follows the Universe, as it follows the Tao.

That is how everything falls into place. We are one with the Earth, which is one with the Universe, which is one with the Tao. But, I don’t see this as some kind of top-down hierarchical relationship. We aren’t only able to follow the Tao in a second or third-hand way. The Tao isn’t some far off thing. It flows through all things, including ourselves. The Universe isn’t some far off thing. It is all around us. Saying we are great because we follow the Earth is merely an expression of our relationship with the Tao. We follow the Tao by following the Earth.

The Tao follows only itself. This isn’t just an expression of its preeminence. Notice how it does this. It does this by flowing through all things, inside and outside, as it returns to the origin of all things. How does the Universe follow the Tao? How does the Earth follow the Universe? How do we, humans, follow the Earth? We do so by going with that flow through all things, inside and outside, returning to the origin of all things.

He who stands on tiptoe
doesn’t stand firm.
He who rushes ahead
doesn’t go far.
He who tries to shine
dims his own light.
He who defines himself
can’t know who he really is.
He who has power over others
can’t empower himself.
He who clings to his work
will create nothing that endures.

If you want to accord with the Tao,
just do your job, then let go.

-Lao Tzu-
(Tao Te Ching, chapter 24, translation by Stephen Mitchell)

We have been talking about being lived by the Tao. This doesn’t mean that self is sacrificed to some greater good, like the world, or the Tao. It means a completely different way of looking at your self. Instead of seeing yourself as separate, as alone, you see your oneness with all things. And, since we aren’t sacrificing the self, Lao Tzu wants us to express our selves, completely; this opens us to be lived by the Tao. This opening of ourselves to the Tao, opens us to both insight and loss. We may not care too much for the idea of being opened to loss, but we do need to accept it, completely. The only way to be given everything, is to give everything up. Yesterday, Lao Tzu said that when we open ourselves to the Tao, we can trust our natural responses. This is how we cooperate with the emergent order, the eternal reality, the way things are. Everything falls into place, without any need for any system of control.

Yesterday, Lao Tzu told us how to be: Like the forces of nature. Natural. Today he contrasts that with how we, too often, are.

Why do we stand on tiptoe? Usually because we are reaching for something, just out of reach. Forget, just for a moment, about the reasons that the vertically-challenged have to stand on tiptoe to reach for a plate or a glass in a cupboard. That isn’t what Lao Tzu is talking about, here. It is a metaphor, duh. He is talking about standing on tiptoe on a somewhat perpetual basis; always reaching for things, just outside our grasp. Why are we reaching, grasping? If it is just outside our reach, then, perhaps, it would be for the best, we leave it alone. Wait for it. Or forget about it. You can’t stand on tiptoe and stand firm. How easy it is to be toppled from this unnatural position.

If we aren’t reaching and grasping for things, often, we will try to rush ahead. What is your hurry? Nature’s way is slow, but steady. Why are we so impatient? The same principle is involved as with standing on tiptoe. When we rush ahead, we get ahead of the Tao. What are we thinking? Why would we want to be anywhere, but in the right place at the right time with the Tao? It just isn’t natural. And we won’t go far.

There is such a difference between letting your light shine and trying to shine. When we are in accord with the Tao, all our doings will be effortless. There is no trying. Are we trying to out shine others? Is that what we are about? Is life some great, big competition to you? You have to outshine everybody else? How very sad for you. Because the more you try to shine, the dimmer your own light becomes.

This next one is a particular challenge for me. Defining myself. I say I eschew labels; but really, I have all sorts of self-ascribed labels for myself. All very well thought out and clever ones. But I get what Lao Tzu is saying, immediately. I think I know myself so well. And I pride myself on my clever labels. But the reality is, I don’t know what I think I know. I need to practice knowing not-knowing, here. Then, insight will arise naturally. Until then, I can’t know who I really am. Oh, I know, I know, we don’t want others labeling us. But why do we fear that? Why do we fear anything? Because we are thinking of the self as self. A big no-no. Forget about labels; or be content with letting the Tao define you, as you are lived by it.

So much of what Lao Tzu has to say in the Tao Te Ching, is to those who think they have, or aspire to have, power over others. And what does Lao Tzu have to say? Your so-called power is nothing, when you can’t even empower yourself. If you want to accord with the Tao, focus on your self, not on others. Leave other people alone. Don’t try to control them. Empower yourself, by being one with the Tao.

It cannot be said enough, philosophical Taoism is a very individualistic approach to living. It is all about your self. You focus on you. And let others take care of their selves. This isn’t being selfish. For we don’t see the self as self. We see the world as self. And that means we can truly care for all things. We just don’t do it by interfering, by trying to control. We accord with the Tao. We let the Tao work in and through each one of us, bringing balance and harmony.

There is work to be done. We have talked so much about doing not-doing; but I don’t want anyone to be confused about what that means. You have work to do. Yet, all your actions can and should be effortless. We are letting, instead of trying. Letting all things fall into place as we do what comes naturally. We can trust our natural responses; and there is work to be done.

But we must not cling to our work. Clinging is as unnatural as reaching and grasping. When we cling to our work, we end up creating nothing that endures. If you want to accord with the Tao, just do your job, and let go; of it, of everything. Trust the Tao.

I am saving this last little bit for last. I am sure we are all quite tired of hearing about the Kentucky county clerk. I promise not to be offended if you don’t care to read any further. I just think today’s chapter is timely and relevant. And this advice from Lao Tzu to just do your job, then let go, is even more timely and relevant for that Kentucky clerk. You don’t have to be a philosophical Taoist to take this advice to heart. I think you can even be a very conservative Christian. Why did she cling to her work, when she was faced with a choice of whether or not to be true to her religious convictions? What if she had simply done her job, and then let go, trusting her God to sort things out? Or, why not just leave her job, if she could no longer, in good conscience, do it? So very clingy. So very not in accord with the Tao.

Express yourself completely.
Then keep quiet.
Be like the forces of nature:
When it blows, there is only wind.
When it rains, there is only rain.
When the clouds pass, the sun shines through.

If you open yourself to the Tao,
you are at one with the Tao,
and you can embody it completely.
If you open yourself to insight,
you are at one with insight
and you can use it completely.
If you open yourself to loss,
you are at one with loss
and you can accept it completely.

Open yourself to the Tao.
Then trust your natural responses;
and everything will fall into place.

-Lao Tzu-
(Tao Te Ching, chapter 23, translation by Stephen Mitchell)

Who wants to be partial, crooked, and empty? Who could be content to be those things? And yet, when we see the self as self, that is exactly what we find we are. We were talking about this yesterday. The only way to become whole, straight, and full is to see the world as self. But how do we so that, without losing our selves in the process? Lao Tzu told us how. First, we have to be content to be what we are; partial, crooked, and empty. Then, we have to be lived by the Tao. This is giving everything up, letting go of all our desires. This is how we become whole, straight, and full. This is the only way to truly be ourselves. I said, yesterday, being content is letting. Letting yourself be what you are, and letting yourself be lived by the Tao. If you want to be content, you start by being content. If this sounds circular, maybe, it is because it is. The Tai Chi symbol is, after all, a circle, representing everything that is; with yin and yang in a constant state of flow, within it. And where does Lao Tzu tell us to stay? In the center of the circle.

But fret not, Lao Tzu doesn’t leave us with just that as an explanation. In today’s chapter, he tells us exactly how to be lived by the Tao. Remember, we start with being content with being what we are. Now what? Now, express yourself, that partial, crooked, and empty self, completely. Don’t hold anything back. Don’t leave anything in reserve. Get it all out, and be done with it. Then, keep quiet. Often, we either jump the gun on being quiet, without first, completely expressing ourselves; or, we just keep on expressing ourselves, long after it should be complete, never becoming quiet.

That is a pretty common problem; so Lao Tzu offers this metaphor, to help us understand exactly how he wants us to be: Be like the forces of nature. Philosophical Taoism is nature’s way. When the wind blows, there is only wind. When it rains, there is only rain. This is how the forces of nature express themselves completely. Expressing yourself completely is like clouds in the sky. And when the clouds pass, after the wind and the rain, the sun shines through. The sun, here, is a metaphor for the Tao. Express yourself completely, like the wind and the rain does. Then be quiet. When the clouds pass, the sun will shine through.

We wanted to know how to be lived by the Tao. Well, we have to open ourselves to the Tao. That is how to be one with it. The clouds have to pass for the sun to shine through. But remember, the sun was always there, right behind those clouds. So, express yourself completely; and then let the clouds pass; keep quiet, you open yourself to the Tao in this way. You and the Tao become one. You are able to embody it completely.

I want to be clear, here. This involves knowing not-knowing and doing not-doing. There are two things that are going to happen when we open ourselves to the Tao. First, you are opening yourself to insight. Practicing knowing that you don’t know, opens yourself to insight. Let that happen. Become one with it. Use it completely. Second, you are opening yourself to loss. Don’t balk at this. Don’t resist, don’t interfere, don’t try and force or rush things. Keep quiet. Remember what Lao Tzu said yesterday. “If you want to be reborn, you must let yourself die. If you want to be given everything, you must give everything up.” You are opening yourself to loss, when you open yourself to the Tao. You simply must become one with loss. You must accept it completely.

If you will do this, if you open yourself to the Tao, then you will be able to trust your natural responses. Your body’s intelligence has been restored (see chapter eighteen). And everything will fall into place. How everything falls into place is the emergent order (see chapter three). It is the eternal reality, the way things are. Always, just beyond the clouds, if we will only let them pass.

If you want to become whole,
let yourself be partial.
If you want to become straight,
let yourself be crooked.
If you want to become full,
let yourself be empty.
If you want to be reborn,
let yourself die.
If you want to be given everything,
give everything up.

The Master, by residing in the Tao,
sets an example for all beings.
Because he doesn’t display himself,
people can see his light.
Because he has nothing to prove,
people can trust his words.
Because he doesn’t know who he is,
people recognize themselves in him.
Because he has no goal in mind,
everything he does succeeds.

When the ancient Masters said,
‘If you want to be given everything,
give everything up,”
they weren’t using empty phrases.
Only in being lived by the Tao
can you be truly yourself.

-Lao Tzu-
(Tao Te Ching, chapter 22, (translation by Stephen Mitchell)

I keep coming back to what Lao Tzu said, in chapter thirteen, about seeing the world as your self, and loving the world as your self. I call that intentional empathy. It is how to truly care for all things. But Lao Tzu said something else in that chapter. It is the problem we have been addressing for several days, now. Hope and fear are phantoms which arise from thinking of the self as self. When we don’t think of the self as self, we have nothing to fear.

I believe all the turmoil, we experience in the world, has to do with how we think of our selves. Some, no doubt, are concerned about this thinking of the world as self, as somehow erasing or sacrificing self to the world. But that would be seeing the self as world. A completely different thing. If you are having a problem with this distinction, please message me, I want to explain, better, what I think Lao Tzu means.

Today, I want to turn my attention to what Lao Tzu has to say about how we see the self, in today’s chapter. How do we see the self? Perhaps we see the self as partial, as crooked, as empty. That is seeing the self as self.

We see the self as self, and that causes us all kinds of turmoil. So, we want to become something other than what we are. We want to become whole, straight, full. That would be seeing the world as self. But, then, how do we go about making that transformation a reality in our lives?

Lao Tzu remains consistent in his approach to the art of living. If you want to become whole, let yourself be partial. If you want to become straight, let yourself be crooked. If you want to become full, let yourself be empty. That is, let yin and yang balance each other out. We may bristle here. You mean I have to be patient? I have to wait on the Tao?Yes! That is exactly what he means. We must practice knowing not-knowing and doing not-doing. What we think we know, and the things we do to try and interfere with the way things are, is exactly what causes all the turmoil in our lives.

We want to be reborn. We want to experience a rebirth. But we fail to understand, that means we will have to let our selves die. Your self has to die for you to be reborn. You have to let that happen. But I can’t let that just go by, without explaining what I think Lao Tzu means by letting your self die. I don’t think it means that your self is dead and gone. I think it means that you see your self in a whole new way from the way you have always seen your self. You no longer see your self as self. Once again, this isn’t something you do to your self. You don’t make it happen. You let it happen.

If you want to be given everything, give everything up. Don’t get confused here, and think Lao Tzu is talking about thinking you are owed anything. People who just want to be given every thing without working. That is a whole other plane of thinking from what Lao Tzu is meaning. When he speaks of being given everything, he is talking about all the things we want to become. If you want to become whole, and straight, and full, you need to give up the whole notion of becoming those very things. Everything you want to become, give it up!

These aren’t just empty phrases. If you want to experience rebirth, you have to let yourself be lived by the Tao. This is the only way to truly be yourself. As long as you see yourself as partial, and crooked, and empty, and you aren’t content to be those very things; you are not being truly yourself. You are partial, crooked and empty, yes. But you aren’t letting yourself be lived by the Tao. Being content is letting.

The Master, as always, is our example; because he resides in the Tao. It is because he doesn’t display himself, people can see his light. It is because he has nothing to prove, people can trust his words. It is because he doesn’t know who he is (in other words, he sees the world has his self), people recognize themselves in him. It is because he has no goal in mind, everything he does succeeds.

The Master keeps her mind
always at one with the Tao.
That is what gives her her radiance.

The Tao is ungraspable.
How can her mind be at one with it?
Because she doesn’t cling to ideas.

The Tao is dark and unfathomable.
How can it make her radiant?
Because she lets it.

Since before time and space were.
The Tao is.
It is beyond is and is not.
How do I know this is true?
I look inside myself and see.

-Lao Tzu-
(Tao Te Ching, chapter 21, translation by Stephen Mitchell)

Yesterday’s chapter was a very personal one for Lao Tzu. He used the personal pronoun, I, twelve times. I believe this was an amazing display of intentional empathy on his part. He identifies with our suffering, with our “aloneness”. It is when you see your self as self, as separate, as alone, that you feel cut off from the rest of the world. But, you are not alone. That is why you must see the world as your self. Then that intentional empathy carries you along. How so? Lao Tzu described it as drinking from the Great Mother’s breasts. You are held in Mother’s arms. You are nourished with Mother’s milk. You are different, extraordinary.

Today, Lao Tzu explains further, how it is the Master can keep her mind always at one with the Tao. It is what gives her, her radiance.

It doesn’t seem even possible. The Tao is ungraspable. We all know this is true. How can her mind be at one with it? Obviously, grasping at it, won’t be of any use to us. The Master doesn’t have any magical powers that allow her to do the impossible. So, what then, can we do? As soon as we ask the question, we suspect we know, at least, the first part of the answer. What can we do? We can do nothing. When confronted with something you cannot grasp, what can you do? When you can’t grasp, then don’t cling.

Our problem isn’t what we think it is. We think our problem is that we need to grasp the ungraspable. That would be a problem, if we really needed to grasp it. Because that is impossible. It can’t be grasped. But that isn’t our problem. Our problem is all the things we think we know. The ideas that we cling to. That is what holds us back from being at one with the Tao. What the Master does, is let go of all the things she thinks she knows. She doesn’t cling to ideas. Grasping is impossible; so stop clinging.

But what gives her, her radiance? The Tao is dark and unfathomable. We all know this is true, as well. How can it make her radiant? It is her practice of doing not-doing. She does nothing. She doesn’t do anything to make herself radiant; and, she also doesn’t do anything to prevent herself from being radiant. She simply doesn’t interfere with that dark and unfathomable Tao. And, the dark and unfathomable Tao does nothing; yet, through it, all things are done. She is at one with it. She lets it make her radiant.

Understand, very little separates you and I from the Master. We can all be masters. What makes her different, extraordinary? She practices doing not-doing. And, knowing not-knowing. Practice those two things, and you, too, will be radiant, at one with the Tao.

Behold the ungraspable, dark, and unfathomable Tao! It is both before and beyond; before time and space were, and beyond is and is not. How do I know this is true? This isn’t something that I can point at outside of myself. I can’t point to some distant horizon and say, “See there, there is the Tao!” And, I certainly can’t point at something closer and say, “Here it is!” It isn’t outside of me. The truth isn’t out there. Sorry, to all you “X-File” fans. The truth is inside of us. Inside you, and inside me. If you want to realize the truth, you will have to look inside your own self to see it.

Stop thinking, and end your problems.
What difference between yes and no?
What difference between success and failure?
Must you value what others value,
avoid what others avoid?
How ridiculous!

Other people are excited,
as though they were at a parade.
I alone don’t care.
I alone am expressionless.
Like an infant before it can smile.

Other people have what they need.
I alone possess nothing.
I alone drift about.
Like someone without a home.
I am like an idiot, my mind is so empty.

Other people are bright.
I alone am dark.
Other people are sharp.
I alone am dull.
Other people have a purpose.
I alone don’t know.
I drift like a wave on the ocean.
I blow as aimless as the wind.

I am different from ordinary people.
I drink from the Great Mother’s breasts.

-Lao Tzu-
(Tao Te Ching, chapter 20, translation by Stephen Mitchell)

Yesterday, we were talking about the refuse we must not refuse to throw away. Lao Tzu concluded yesterday’s chapter by saying, “Stay in the center of the circle and let all things take their course.” And, I said this “staying in the center of the circle” requires that we stop thinking and stop doing. In today’s chapter, Lao Tzu continues where I left off.

Today’s chapter is easily the most misunderstood chapter in all the Tao Te Ching. Is Lao Tzu in the throes of depression? Is he experiencing some “dark night of the soul”? Twelve times he uses the personal pronoun, I. Seven of those times, he says, “I am alone.” Over and over again he violates his own, earlier instructions, not to compare and contrast ourselves with others. The tone of this chapter just seems wholly uncharacteristic of Lao Tzu. What is going on here? One translator (not Stephen Mitchell) referred to this chapter as, “One of the most pathetic expressions of human loneliness, from lack of appreciation, ever written.” Wow! I was stunned when I came across that critique. Really? This, from a so-called friend? Who needs enemies?

I admit I used to struggle with today’s chapter, which seemed so out of place. It took me awhile to get so familiar with the Tao Te Ching, that I no longer struggled to find the context which has to rule any interpretation of a particular chapter. But this critique was coming from a translator, surely they had familiarized themselves with what they were translating? Or, maybe they just were translating from the Chinese to English, without any thought for context? Either way, I shouldn’t call the translator, Shirley.

But let’s take a look at the criticism, to see if it has any basis in reality. Is this a pathetic expression of loneliness, perhaps the most pathetic ever written? Does Lao Tzu show no appreciation for his many blessings?

I think this particular translator couldn’t have been more off target. And, here is why: While the chapter does take on a very dramatic change in tone and style, I think that can be explained, if you don’t try to read it as a stand-alone chapter. You have to read it in its context. Keep in mind, the division of this work into 81 chapters was a later addition. When it was originally penned, it was one complete work. I like being able to take a chapter each day; but I always understand that each chapter just continues where he left off. Sometimes, the chapter divisions aren’t even, necessarily, good places to stop.

What have we been talking about in the chapters leading up to this one? He has been talking about the turmoil and chaos that results when people don’t realize where they come from. When the great Tao is forgotten, people stumble about in confusion and sorrow, contriving systems to try and fill the vacuum created by their own lost connection with the Tao. Lao Tzu has told us what we need to do. Observe the turmoil of beings, yes; but contemplate their return to the Source. All those contrived systems need to be thrown away, so we will begin to remember the Tao. Lao Tzu isn’t being pathetic in this chapter. He is being empathetic.

That is the point of all the first person pronouns. He is taking on our suffering, as his own. This isn’t mere sympathy, where he feels sorry for us, or pities us, but can’t possibly understand exactly what it is we are going through. Oh, he knows and understands very well, what we are experiencing. He experiences it, as well.

The context is so obvious to me now, I wonder how I ever struggled to see it before. We said, yesterday, that staying in the center of the circle, and letting all things take their course means “Stop thinking and stop doing.” And how does Lao Tzu begin today’s chapter? “Stop thinking, and end your problems.”

He is talking to himself, yes. But this is that intentional empathy we have spoken of before. He sees the world as his self. “What is the difference between yes and no, between success and failure? Must you value what others value and avoid what others avoid? How ridiculous! How can we possibly empty our minds when we can’t stop thinking? Stop thinking, and all your problems vanish.

Lao Tzu understands just how “alone” we can feel at times. That is why a complete, seven times, he says, “I am alone.” It is that sense of being alone that Lao Tzu empathizes with. So, he compares and he contrasts between the one who feels that, and all the others, who seem to be other than him. They are the ordinary ones. He is so very different. It feels like a very solitary path. Other people are so excited. Why is it that I don’t care? Other people have what they need? I alone have nothing. I just drift about, without a home. My mind is empty. I am an idiot. The reason Lao Tzu feels this way is because we all have felt that way.

Other people are bright, sharp, and have a purpose. I alone am dark, dull, and drift about like a wave on the ocean. Is it any wonder he is talking, or should I say mumbling, to himself?

This is all ridiculous! But he doesn’t call it ridiculous to mock us. The point of calling it ridiculous is to show us that it is completely okay to feel alone, while realizing you are not alone. That is where the empathy comes in. You are not alone. No matter how very alone you feel. You are not alone. And, it is okay to be different. We are all different, unique, individuals. Our empathy with each other never erases our individuality. It is okay to be different. What wouldn’t be okay, would be for us to all be the same. How very ordinary, that would be!

But we are different! Which makes us extraordinary! So, stay there, in the center of the circle. Let all things take their course. Just drink from the Great Mother’s breasts.

Throw away holiness and wisdom,
and people will be a hundred times happier.
Throw away morality and justice,
and people will do the right thing.
Throw away industry and profit,
and there won’t be any thieves.

If these three aren’t enough,
just stay in the center of the circle
and let all things take their course.

-Lao Tzu-
(Tao Te Ching, chapter 19, translation by Stephen Mitchell)

Yesterday, we talked about the chaos that results when the great Tao is forgotten. It was a rather depressing chapter. I concluded my commentary by saying, “We need to start remembering. And the sooner we do, the better it will be.” Today, Lao Tzu offers us the way to go about remembering.

Keep in mind, just because the Tao has been forgotten, and people are stumbling about in confusion and sorrow, that doesn’t mean the Tao is not still, very much here. The Tao is not lost; only our connection to the Tao has been lost. The reason we best be remembering, is because the sooner we restore that sense of “connectedness”, the sooner we return to our natural state. Let there be no regrets for lost years. Some people, dare I say, most people, suffer from a lifetime of regrets. But we need to leave the past in the past, where it belongs. The Tao is always present. To realize where you come from is to be always present.

Yesterday, Lao Tzu talked about the ways we contrive to go on with our living, having forgotten the Tao. They are poor substitutes, sure. Such things as goodness and piety, cleverness and knowledge, filial piety, patriotism – these are all signs of the turmoil that our lives are suffering. Today, we are on the road to recovery, a recovery of our connection, our harmony, with the Tao.

Today, Lao Tzu tells us (it seems, somewhat cavalierly), there are certain things we will simply need to throw away – if we want to restore that lost connection. The problem, Lao Tzu is addressing, is getting rid of our dependence on contrived and forced methods for living our lives. Holiness and wisdom, morality and justice, industry and profit. Some of these may be near and dear to a lot of my readers. The temptation to want to hold onto these things, rather than throwing them away, might be very strong. What is wrong with holiness and wisdom, with morality and justice, with industry and profit? I hear you asking. And, I sympathize. And the answer is, there wouldn’t be a thing wrong with any of them, if they flow voluntarily and naturally from the core of our being. The problem is, we have a blockage. You could think of it as some major constipation, if you wanted to think of it in those terms. That is certainly one metaphor you could use. Another, is less crude. Think of it like a blockage in your heart. These things don’t flow voluntarily and naturally from the core of our being. We are stopped up.

And some of you may think, “Of course, I understand that; but can’t we wait to throw them away until after they are no longer useful? Can’t we wait until after the blockage has been cured? Can’t we rely on these “crutches”, as we have been, for quite some time – until we regain our connection with the Tao?” But, even as you are asking these questions, you must already know the answer. Whether, or not, you realize it. Throwing them away, is the cure.

We can’t just wait for people to be a hundred times happier, before we throw away holiness and wisdom. We can’t just wait for people to do the right thing, before we throw away morality and justice. We can’t just wait until there are no more thieves, before we throw away industry and profit.

The question isn’t, “Can we get by with anything less than throwing them all away?” The question is, “Will even that, be enough?”

I want to reiterate that the Tao has gone nowhere. It is still where it has always been, deep within the core of your being. And as long as we insist on using these “crutches”, we will never “get well”. The only way to remember what we have lost, is to rid ourselves of all the poor substitutes we have contrived, for that which is lost.

I really need to add this about Lao Tzu’s list of throwaways. I used to have a love/hate relationship with these things; holiness and wisdom, morality and justice, industry and profit. When I came to this chapter in the Tao Te Ching, I would have this battle inside me, as I both loved and hated these things Lao Tzu said, must be thrown away. I wrestled, and I struggled. But, I have come to a new conclusion. You could say I had an epiphany, a revelatory moment. We have put all these things on a kind of pedestal. That is why we don’t want to give them up. And some of us just can’t see what could possibly be wrong with them. “Industry and profit” took me an especially long time to be willing to throw away. My epiphany came, when I realized (yes, there is that word, again) that these things, we have on the pedestal, are but ideas. They are intangibles. They aren’t real. What are any of these things? What is holiness and wisdom? What is morality and justice? What is industry and profit? What is it, apart from what you have been programmed to believe it is?

Because I had an especially hard time letting go of industry and profit, let me just talk about it. Let me assure you, you can do this exercise with all of them. I had become a sort of anti-capitalist capitalist. I want “freed markets”. So, I ask myself, “How do I work within our present system, a system of industry and profit, to get where I want to be?” Because, let’s be clear, our current system of industry and profit, is anything but, a free market economy. It may, or may not, be fair to call it capitalism. But I don’t have the energy or the time for that kind of debate. It simply doesn’t interest me. My only question is, “Can I can work within this system, to bring about a very different reality?” Once you start asking those kinds of questions honestly, I don’t think they are very hard to answer. Must industry and profit be thrown away, for there to be no more thieves? Duh! That is a no-brainer. The same is true, trust me, for all of Lao Tzu’s throwaways. We aren’t throwing away these ideas, we are throwing away the systems we have artificially put into place to promote these ideas. I hope that helps to clear up any confusion. If you are still confused, message me.

Now, to answer the question of whether, or not, throwing away our “crutches” will suffice, Lao Tzu only adds this: “Just stay in the center of the circle. Let all things take their course.” It sounds both, entirely too simple, and entirely too complicated. I have asked the question, “But, how?” so many times, I am rather ashamed. It is very simple. It is only difficult because we are approaching it from a completely different mindset. We refuse to throw away the refuse, the systems we have contrived. Staying in the center of the circle and letting all things take their course, is simply practicing knowing not-knowing and doing not-doing. What makes it so difficult are the things we think we know; and, our addiction to being in control; the will to power, to force, to interfering. Stay in the center of the circle; that is, stop thinking, and stop doing. Let your mind empty and your core fill, to overflowing. Just realize where you come from, and you won’t stumble about in confusion and sorrow any longer.