February 1-6, 2007

February 1
11
We join spokes together in a wheel,
But it is the center hole
That makes the wagon move

We shape clay into a pot,
But it is the emptiness inside
That holds whatever we want.

We hammer wood for a house
But it is the inner space
That makes it livable.

We work with being,
But non-being is what we use.

Doesn’t need much explication, does it? But the two things I take from it today are the obvious – there ought to be a calm, empty center at my core. Empty of all the things we’ve been talking about that have to do with self: desire, will, obsession, worry, etc. But the second is equally valid, and helps me sort out some of the difficulties I’ve been having. Because we still have to do. We still need the spokes, the clay, to chop down the wood. We have to work with being. I have to teach my classes and write articles. I can’t just sit around being a still center.
The trick is to balance these things, and to shift one’s identification from the port or spokes or wood to the empty inside. That’s where I should be – then walking away from one’s work, accepting the good and the bad . . . all that would become easy.

February 2
12
Colors blind the eye
Sounds deafen the ear
Flavors numb the taste
Thoughts weaken the mind
Desires wither the heart

The Master observes the world
But trusts her inner vision.
She allows things to come and go.
Her heart is open as the sky.

Sounds at first like a description of meditation, how hard it is to shut the world out and focus on the empty center. But of course that translates to real life. How easy it is to be tempted off the path one knows is the right one for you. I connect it also with Piaget’s schemas. I’ve been lecturing on that. And he would say one is healthy and well-developed if one changes the inner schema to fit “reality,” the outside world. Lao-tzu is saying the opposite: trust your inner schema, accept the world, “reality,” for what it is, but don’t be misled by it.

February 4
13
Success is a s dangerous as failure.
Hope is as hollow as fear.

What does it mean that success is as dangerous as failure?
Whether you go up the ladder or down it,
Your position is shaky.
When you stand with your two feet on the ground
You will always keep your balance.

What does it mean that hope is as hollow as fear?
Hope and fear are both phantoms
That arise from thinking of the self.
When we don’t see the self as self,
What do we have to fear?

See the world as your self.
Have faith in the way things are.
Love the world as your self;
Then you can care for all things.

Of course he’s right. As soon as one hopes for anything it is immediately obvious that the hope is self-centered. If I hope it snows, I’m hoping that other people’s plans are spoiled; if I hope It warms up, I’m hoping for the ruination of all the snow-boarders plans. This is a simple example, but profound. Because to me it shows that even the smallest things hoped for are a reflection, a sign of, one’s self-centeredness – even selfishness. If I hope Jim gets a job, I’m hoping others are denied it.

Even with something big, like world peace, how do I know for certain world peace is the best thing right now? In hoping for that, am I preventing the learning that has to take place? Am I really wise enough and knowledgeable enough to know what is best for the world for me to hope for?

I find this really useful. Instead of just telling myself I need to live in the present, this exercise, running through in my mind all the ways my hopes are others’ nightmares, should be much more effective in helping me to stop hoping and fearing and just take and appreciate things as they are.

It follows that one would gradually learn to see the world as one’s self, and begin to care for it on the level that Jesus and Buddha and the Upanishads and Muhammad were talking about. These cognitive strategies, the appeal to logic, always work better in me – actually help me to really change, better than other strategies. I’m grateful for this one. It gives me something concrete to work on.

February 5
14
Look, and it can’t be seen.
Listen, and it can’t be heard.
Reach, and it can’t be grasped.

Above, it isn’t bright.
Below, it isn’t dark.
Seamless, unnamable,
It returns to the realm of nothing.

Form that includes all forms,
Image without an image,
Subtle, beyond all conception.

Approach it and there is no beginning;
Follow it and there is no end.
You can’t know it, but you can be it,
At ease in your own life.
Just realize where you come from:
This is the essence of wisdom.

A good reminder of the immensity, the eternity, and the mystery of the Tao. Our humbleness before it. But not so we can shake in our boots (at least not all the time) but so we remember we are folded into, embedded within, take all our life from it. Our forms are part of its form. Remember the Great River, the Great Mother, from which I draw vitality, life’s energy. The river from which I was born, the river that flows through me.

I can’t know it with my brain, though the brain and words are tools I can use to help maneuver myself into the right place, with the right aspect. But I can be it. Not a promise, but the simple statement of a truth.

“To be at ease in my own life.” Isn’t that the goal we all strive for? It’s what pushes us to seek fame and fortune and the esteem of our fellows. All because we think these things (like tenure or good student evals, or my mother’s approval), will make us more at ease in our own lives.

The great lesson of all the Eastern philosophies is that we don’t need all those things. We already have all we need. How can you be more at ease in your life? Just be at ease! Don’t look to some future, mythical time. Don’t hope for wealth or fear poverty. Live this moment, right now. Appreciate not only what you have, but also who you are today. Do the work that is yours to do, but don’t worry about what “ease” it might bring you.

How do you deal with poverty? Well, it isn’t poverty if you aren’t comparing and desiring and hoping. It is just a day, with whatever materials are available. How do I cope with the pain? I take it for what it is. Don’t compare it with days that seem mythical (and thus are, because I don’t remember them) in which the pain wasn’t there. Don’t compare it even with moments where it was less. Pain is here now. This is what is. It is part of the bundle of things and people and sensations and emotions and thoughts that are me, right now. Imagine if you’d been born just this instant. Would you judge pain as good? Or bad? Maybe not. Maybe it would just be part of what is, part of life. This wonderful, amazing thing called life. How can we begrudge one instant?

This is life. LIFE. I’m getting it! What a precious and perfect thing life is. How sad and silly to waste it noticing all the things that are “wrong” about it. How silly to even label anything wrong or bad or ugly. This is life we are talking about. Consider the alternative. Maybe we don’t do that enough. Our lack of attention to death in this culture leads to less appreciation for life.

When things are bad, would any of us really prefer nothingness? Void, inert, invalid? Non-existence? Some, a few, might. But most suicides don’t believe that. They believe they’ll get another chance at living either in reincarnation or some kind of heaven. As the Upanishads say, we all want to be. And here we are, being! Amazing! Why don’t we spend more time being happy about that? Being at ease in our lives because of that? Instead, we spend an awful lot of time, as humans, trying to secure more life. We waste the lives we have in that lust and greed for more.

I want to be at ease in my own life. That means no comparisons, no worrying/fearing the future – it will take care of itself. No hoping. That’s the hardest. The Judeo-Christian tradition focuses so much on hope for the future. And the belief that things will one day be better. And that we should work toward that better day.

I think it is wrong to interpret Taoism, Buddhism and Hinduism as being fatalistic. And I don’t think their wise men are saying not to work toward the future. They aren’t encouraging hedonism while one’s children starve and the world burns down. But I haven’t figured out how to bridge this. How to be comfortable with both accepting things as they are and trying to improve myself and my surroundings. I’ve written about this tension before, in the context of reading the Gita. Times like this, it would be nice to have a friend, a teacher.


February 6
17
When the Master governs, the people
Are hardly aware she exists.
Next best is a leader who is loved.
Next, one who is feared.
The worst is one who is despised.

If you don’t trust the people
You make them untrustworthy.

The Master doesn’t talk, she acts.
When her work is done,
The people say, “amazing!
We did it all by ourselves.”

All of that applies to teaching. And is really good advice.
Another tension – Lao-tzu seems correct in advising that good leaders (and teachers) are not seen. But the race for tenure means one has to toot one’s own horn – make it clear how much you did, and all the ways you’ve made the world and school a better place. How does one do both? Another challenge for me to ponder.