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The Way of the Tao Is Harmony
The great sage Chuang-tzu, who was absorbed in the wisdom of Lao-tzu, found it quite perplexing to see how the civilization of his time gave name and form to the philosophy of that which is beyond name and form. Chuang-tzu lived in the classical period of Chinese philosophy known as the “Hundred Schools of Thought” (諸子百家), which flourished from the sixth century BCE to 221 BCE, during the Spring and Autumn period (771–476 BCE) and the Warring States period (475–221 BCE) of ancient China. Unlike Lao-tzu, Chuang-tzu’s existence can be verified. In that classical period, he was at the heart of an epoch of change that was sweeping across humanity.
This epoch is almost identical to our present day, where unbelievable changes are taking place whether we like it or not. Something is compelling humanity to grow out of a dysfunctional state into a harmonious one. Everything in our current epoch is either decaying or transforming in much the same way as in Chuang-tzu’s time. Ideologies, theologies, religions, and culture all underwent a radical change. The beliefs that were not open to change evaporated like snow on a summer’s day. Chuang-tzu knew that it was the Tao that changes something spontaneously out of its extreme rigidity. The Tao through Chuang-tzu’s eyes is within everything, not just the movements of the bodies or seasons, but also within the transformation of human civilizations and the new patterns of thought that give birth to them. Out of spontaneity an evolutionary burst of energy takes place, because spontaneity is the Way of nature. So evolution in relation to humanity is the spontaneous growth of consciousness.
These bursts of expansive growth within the collective consciousness are scattered all throughout history. If Chuang-tzu could speak to us, he would add that these epochs can be dangerous because of incorrect guidance through misinterpretation. This danger is evident in our present day, as we see how the Tao of Lao-tzu has been deformed by rigid traditions that have lost sight of its inner meaning, not to mention the misinterpretation of Eastern philosophy as New Age nonsense.
This classical period of Chinese philosophy saw the universal text of the Tao Te Ching come into existence to explain the Way, which is discovered by few. But by the time Chuang-tzu was touched by its depth, the Tao Te Ching had been molded and shaped into a medicine for the society rather than the individual. Confucian ideals and older animistic and shamanic traditions nurtured and then cloaked the Tao. Chuang-tzu could perceive this, but he met such peculiarities with humor and sarcasm. Being absorbed in the Way of the Tao, he was naturally disinterested in anything culture, religion, or society could offer, and as a result he found great joy in poking fun at its temporality. Similarly, today we discover a multitude of individuals who are waking up to the frivolousness of the society, culture, and religions we have built.
When our consciousness evolves, what we once couldn’t perceive or imagine soon becomes perceivable and then becomes direct knowledge. How could this be if we are to accept the conventional model of linear evolution? The mechanical linear model of the universe is the common, indoctrinated perspective on life. But there is no categorical evidence to support this view. The laws of nature do not follow a linear model. All forms of life in nature grow spontaneously into a design of differing distinguished patterns that all fit together. Spontaneity is the essence of patterned structures within nature, which work harmoniously together in a common union. This perspective encompasses Lao-tzu’s wisdom that the Tao is the Way of nature.
Nature’s constituents are inseparable and arise out of the Tao, which gives the differing aspects of nature their energetic signatures in the form of complex patterns. The Tao dwells deep within the pattern of the form that has spontaneously arisen. Perceiving the Tao in nature is an accomplishment of the enlightened sages. Chuang-tzu once stated, “When there is no more separation between ‘this’ and ‘that,’ it is called the still-point of the Tao. At the still-point in the center of the circle one can see the infinite in all things.”1
Chuang-tzu could have only attained this enlightened perception from following the Way of nature. His life was in accord with the Tao. In this alignment the Tao nourishes one who is of its original essence. Chuang-tzu’s humor is a testament to his own natural spontaneity. Those who have revealed Lao-tzu’s Way of nature in their own lives stand back in awe at the complexity of the linear system we have built in opposition to nature’s rhythm. The nonlinear world of natural organisms are harmonious within their own patterned design, even though these patterns conflict with our linear worldview.
THE ORGANIC PATTERN OF LI
There is an organic pattern, or we could say order of the universe, that is a blueprint for nature to express its beauty. In Chinese this is called li (理; see figure 3.1), which I briefly mentioned in the introduction. Li is usually translated as the markings in jade, grain in wood, and fiber in muscle. It is supposed to signify a definite pattern that originates within an organism as its nature and comes into existence when an organism harmonizes with the Tao. This li principle is usually thought of as Neo-Confucian rather than Taoist, because it differs from the Confucian virtue of li (禮), which is based on correct understanding and practice of rites and ceremonies. The Confucian concept of li has no relevance to the Way of Lao-tzu or to the harmony of nature. Nor is it relevant to wu-wei. Nature exhibits the Taoist li 理) always, as the mineral, plant, and animal kingdoms are not intelligences that could try to disrupt its harmony. The human kingdom, on the other hand, being the highest form of intelligence on this planet, constantly seeks to challenge nature’s laws and rhythms.
Humanity has a schizoid sense that we are somehow alien to this planet. Yet we depend on nature for everything that gives us life. Without the food that we eat or the air that we breathe, we would not have evolved out of the lower kingdoms. We feel alienated from all other life because we perceive only a linear world. From this convoluted view, we build our communities on linear systems. The society is a construct of designed systems, such as organized culture, government, politics, and religion, which all oppose natural laws and swim against the current of Tao.
We erroneously uphold these systems because we feel that life would be nothing without them. Yet they are built on the notion that we can control nature’s pattern, li. The destruction of nature for material gain is a result of these systems’ effect on the human mind. We pay more attention to our own indoctrination than to the actual world that gives us life. Nature, being nonlinear, cannot be understood by a humanity shaped by a linear perspective. From this standpoint, we seek to lord it over nature because we do not understand it. Yet according to Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu, this is the very problem that will lead us into complete and utter annihilation, because in not understanding nature, we do not understand ourselves.
Figure 3.1. Li—universal organic pattern By Dao Stew
The Tao that Chuang-tzu could perceive in everything does not exclude human life. Human life is an intrinsic part of nature because a human being is nature. The fight for control of nature stems from humanity ignoring its own nature, which we do when we adopt external influences that transform us into machines. Our psychology in turn resembles the repetition of a machine rather than the spontaneity of nature.
The mind of the average individual is solely focused on the maintenance and upkeep of a linear system. Such a person is unlikely to allocate any energy toward her own inner world, because that would conflict with her linear habits. But this orientation toward the outer world is going to lead us into the arms of annihilation if we do not realize that all natural growth comes from within the organism. And all of nature’s constituents, including human beings, function according to this universal pattern. Nature’s harmony can be disturbed but never eradicated, because the Tao courses through the patterns of li. Organisms that challenge this order do not fare well.
We generally ignore the fact that the organic pattern and principle of li are within the human organism too. The organic pattern of li within the ecosystem is the same intelligence that is found in our nerves, senses, and ultimately our cognitive functions and psychology. This is why those who practice spiritual cultivation usually have a harmonious biological and psychological disposition: they show respect to their bodies and minds by refusing to overstimulate them with excessive consumption. The Taoist philosophy of li affirms that anyone can attain a liberated state of harmony with the world, but only if we act in the same way as nature. The ecosystem of nature is nothing like the average modern life of a human being. What, then, would it take for a human to act as nature intended?
Nature’s Way is harmonious because each of its components follows its own li, its way of harmonizing with other manifestations of Tao. This mutual resonance and interdependence is known as ying (應: Wade-Giles ying, Pinyin ying, see figure 3.2) in Chinese, and is another key aspect of Taoist philosophy. It is an essential principle for understanding the effortless mind. The mutual resonance and harmony of nature are only possible in the way they are as the Tao is.
When we look into nature, we do not see the busyness and complexity of, say, a city. On the contrary, we perceive a simple world in harmony through the stillness of Tao. Chuang-tzu said that from the still point of the Tao in the center of the circle, one can see the infinite in the world of forms. This means that the mind that is completely empty and still can perceive reality as it truly is. The Tao liberates the mind from its linear constraints by enabling it to follow the Way of nature.
Figure 3.2. Ying—mutual resonance and interdependence By Dao Stew
To act according to nature requires becoming receptive to the forces of the cosmos, which can only be received in the complete stilling of the mind. The process of settling the ripples of the mind is known as nirodha in Sanskrit, which in Patanjali’s classical yoga means “restriction,” the process of stopping the “whirls” (vritti in Sanskrit) of the mind. This stilling of the mind is the key objective of many forms of meditative practices and Eastern wisdom. Yet, paradoxically, the objective can never be attained if it is thought of as a goal to achieve. This is because the stillness of mind that many people hope to attain is actually our natural state right here and now and not at some future destination. But this realization is veiled by the hypnosis that we have acquired from the external world.
Enlightenment right here and now is the sage’s axiom. A sage would ask us, how could we ever attain or achieve something that is already our true nature? This may look simple for sages to realize, but keep in mind that they were also once on a journey of self-discovery. They too had to undergo the process of thinning out their conditioned personality so that they could ultimately recognize that consciousness is naturally transparent and reflective like water.
Water acts in the same way as mind. When water is disturbed, it is not transparent or reflective, as the waves and ripples obscure its essence. But when water is completely still, it is in its pure, true state of transparency and reflectivity. The nature of mind is stillness, which is beyond effort. Yet the waves and ripples of conditioning obscure this truth. Emptying your mind of these conditioned habits and latent tendencies, you come face to face, so to speak, with the Tao. The Tao of the Absolute is within our natural stillness, and this natural state is where spontaneity is effortlessly born. Stillness is where the virtue of wu-wei is lived. If we come into contact with the still point of the Tao, then we begin to nourish the rest of existence through the art of living wu-wei.
LIVING THE ART OF WU-WEI
We cannot nourish the rest of existence if we are acting out of our old patterns of conditioning, and if we are trying to provide such nourishment for humanity, it will never be attained. These paradoxes are interwoven into the fabric of the universe. They often confuse us, leaving us to feel completely helpless about the correct way to act or be in this world.
Many people have a deep feeling that the world needs to be saved, but the world doesn’t need to be saved. There are always two sides of a coin, something is and at the same time isn’t. We are always determining right or wrong and see the good and bad side to every argument. Exploring this phenomenon deeply, we discover that everything we are discerning in the field of opposites goes according to the conditioning we have been indoctrinated with.
Our personality, then, wants to save the world, to align the world with what is pleasurable according to the personality. But the truth is that the world does not need to be saved, or, rather, the one who is attempting to save the world is the one whom the world needs to be saved from. We are trying to save the world from ourselves. Our conditioned personality conflicts with the world and with other beings because the hypnosis of one person is not the same as the hypnosis of another, so the possibility of mutual resonance in this state is nil. This leads us to complete helplessness, as all of our striving is a hindrance to our conscious growth.
This recognition of our helpless position, what Hubert Benoit called a blind alley, is the key that opens the door to that liberated state known in its various forms in Sanskrit as samadhi, moksha, and nirvana, and as satori in Japanese. This helplessness allows you to let go of all preconceived notions of how life is and how others should be. You can realize samadhi, moksha, nirvana, and satori after your personality is deflated and you realize that all your striving, struggling, and suffering are useless, because what you are seeking is already yours.
We play this mental game of striving, struggling, and suffering because this process makes us feel that we are on a path of achievement. This process of achievement abides by a linear model of reality, which has humanity running toward a goal that can never be reached. Assuming that we can achieve any goal this way is a mechanical construct. It is an attempt to control fate, while natural, nonlinear spontaneity always changes our controlled plans for life. The conditioned personality wants to enforce what it associates with pleasure upon the world by attempting to bypass the universal reality of spontaneity. Individual suffering is the result, because we are going against the grain of nature in Tao.
Suffering in life has nothing to do with nature. We suffer because our perception of reality is constantly changing, which conflicts with our rigid beliefs. We cling to a certain concrete template of life and resist change. The definite interpretation we seek in life is always changing according to our conscious growth, as the external world will mirror a different meaning to each individual’s inner world. In complete helplessness, we discover that life has no categorical “right” interpretation, as all interpretation is still within the field of a linear model built on opposites. Trying to interpret life is only a way of perpetuating old patterns that need to be transformed. These patterns keep us “seeking” stillness to provide nourishment for the world, as if it were not already in our possession. Aligning with the Tao cannot be sought after, especially from a conditioned mental state. What we are really searching for can only be lived.
Our linear circuitry is a complex web of psychic phenomena that builds the illusion of a separate identity in our minds, eclipsing our nonlinear nature. Living the Tao can only be realized when this linear circuitry is brought into the order of nature. The art of living, as Lao-tzu would put it, is not a step-by-step process of unfoldment, as the linear world would suggest. Instead it is a way of living your own li, which then harmonizes with all other aspects of nature. Our natural patterns can never be realized if our conditioned patterns continue to plague our awareness. The more we cling to life, the more we continue to suffer from these patterns.
Instead of acquiring more, Lao-tzu would suggest less. We take pride in ourselves when we are armed with a lot of intellectual knowledge, yet stillness can never be lived if we have not emptied out our faculties.
Emptying the mind does not mean that we become stupid. On the contrary, we can only make use of what we have learned in life when what we have learned is not an intellectual attainment. What we learn is merely a set of tools. Problems come when we believe the tools are who we are. To unlearn, as Lao-tzu would suggest, is to not be bound by anything life has to offer. Even the idea of unlearning or emptying the mind should not be thought of as a definite route to spiritual liberation, because such states should come naturally to an individual. It is only when we reach that complete state of helplessness that a real spontaneous growth can sprout within our consciousness. When we realize that there is totally nothing to be done to recognize our true nature, we finally let go of all the limitations and deviations of the mind that held us hostage. The old regime of thinking is transmuted into a higher cognitive state of receptivity, simplicity, and humility.
Loosening the grip of conditioning sometimes requires a lot of inner strength on our part. But it is only from there that the stillness of Tao will speak to our inner ear of intuition. When we are not attached to life, life shines brightly, because our perception has been cleansed.
We believe that the external world endows us with the wisdom of the universe. Yet that concept runs against all principles and laws of nature. As an artist endows a blank canvas with paint, so do we endow the external world with life. A blank canvas remains blank until an artist endows it with what is within him. Art is not produced from without to within; it is the function of nature in the individual. Art is expressed from an individual’s li from the inner world to the outer world, no matter whether it is writing, painting, music, filming, or gardening. In our modern world there are not many people who express their own natural art because their organic pattern of li is polluted with linear systems. This is why some of the greatest artists throughout history have lived lives detached from the limits of society, religion, and culture. To be deeply touched by their art is to realize that they were inspired by Tao.
Following our own li allows the Tao to enter the canvas of life. This is exactly the same as the Christian theme of “bringing Heaven to Earth.” Inspiration helps others to realize their own innate potential, and, if their conditioning is not deeply rooted, they will begin to explore their own potential li. Inspiration means to be “in spirit,” but it could also be seen as the space that enters an individual’s consciousness when she is inspired. Expressions of art inspire human life and bring it back into harmony with nature.
When one follows one’s natural li, the art it produces inspires the world and creates mutual resonance, ying. During this process, the formless Tao enters the world of form. Just like in nature’s ecosystem, following one’s own li harmonizes one with everything else in the world, generating a mutual resonance. This is the Way of real human nature. It contradicts linear conceptions of forcing and controlling life as a means of gain. Our natural li is only discovered when we cease our search for power.