6
The Wisdom of the Taoist Sage
WHAT IS A SAGE?
Historically, sages have been the most revered persons in the human community. They possess profound wisdom, vast compassion, and deep moral responsibility. The sage is often a lonely figure, standing apart from the conventions and comforts of family life. The sage upholds truth and holiness. The sage is commonly pictured as a male figure, although there have been numerous influential female sages throughout history. The sage is concerned only with sustaining purity and the completion of yang Chi, or celestial energy. We view the sage as the culmination of wisdom and immortality. Through the sage’s embodiment of wisdom and purity, we are made aware, in our earthly existence, of the defining line between heavenly spirits and earthly souls. With the aid of the example and inspiration provided by the sage, we can rise above our circumstances in this human life.
In Chinese culture, the sage is regarded as a link between heaven and earth, and as an ideal for human beings to emulate. Taoist inner alchemy cannot teach us “what” a Taoist sage is, but opens the mind to many “ways” in which we can strive to become a Taoist sage, as transmitted to us by the sages themselves. The sage speaks with God’s exalted tone, acts on behalf of God’s will, and represents God’s most favored child.
Taoism is a philosophy and faith that offers an ideal connection between man and heaven and a profound understanding of the relationship between the power of ego and the freedom of mind.
In the Tao Te Ching, the term sage is the most frequently used, appearing in twenty-one chapters. In those chapters, Lao Tzu depicts the sage walking through his human life within sagehood. He places a greater emphasis on the importance of being a sage than he does on the meaning of hearing of Tao. A sage is a meditator who has mastered the cultivation practice of body/mind into that of a newborn baby. He is a carrier of kindness whose moral goodness nurtures people’s hearts and souls, but is not clearly understood in their minds. He is a light in the world whose conduct imparts a state of being, whose position is lowly, and whose method is utter simplicity.
The sage knows that the intellect possesses the wisdom of simplicity when there is no desire in the mind; when captured by demands, it becomes crafty. The sage knows that action is kind when there is no competition; while searching for perfection, it becomes possessive. When Lao Tzu describes a sage, he employs the qualities of “wise” and “kind.”
Lao Tzu calls himself a sage. He writes that the sage wears shabby cloth but holds a treasure within (72:4) and The sage holds Oneness as the shepherd of the world (23:2). The sage carries a great burden of responsibility, and potentially has a great deal of influence in this world. The sage understands and fully embraces this responsibility, with a lightness of being.
Therefore the sage says:
When I am inactive, people transform themselves.
When I abide in stillness, people organize themselves lawfully.
When I am disengaged, people enrich themselves.
When I choose non-desire, people remain simple.
(57:4)
To be a sage and to live a sage’s life is neither easy nor impossible. It is a life devoid of desire, ambition, name, competition, wealth, and possessions. The sage carries the aura of immortality, a quality that cannot be defined socially and culturally. To reach immortality is to become self-effacing. The sage exercises only the right conduct of speech and action, doing no more and no less than what is required. It is acting at the right time with the right person within the right space, expressing no self-explanation and no self-aggrandizement. The sage demonstrates dispassionate compassion. Tao is transformed into the virtuous Te of kindness. While the Tao can be construed as obscure, abstract, or removed, the sage’s behavior illuminates the Tao as alive, active, and achievable.
The Body of the Sage
Relaxing the body, the body comes to the fore.
Beyond the body, the body comes to the fore.
Beyond the body, the body exists of itself.
Not even relying on selflessness
Enables the self to be fulfilled.
(7:3–4)
The sage is the individual and universal persona in which the Tao, the meaning of virtuous action (Te), and the role of human being are embodied and characterized.
Through extensive cultivation of the Taoist transformational path, the sage’s body becomes an androgynous Chi body. The sage’s body is in unity with the mind, and the body and mind are no longer in tension or a mutual burden. Because of this total harmony, a sage’s body is a friend of life, not an object to be displayed. With its unique ability to rejuvenate, a sage’s body is a womb for producing the zhenren, the pure person.
The idea of relaxation in the verse above is comparable to the Buddhist idea of readiness: no sickness, no frustration, no restraint, and no expectation. It is the overall meaning of presence. [Coming] to the fore is permitting the body to bypass mental calculation and expectation, being free to move with its own rhythm, at its own pace, measured with its own strength, and in its own time. Thus, the mind reaches beyond the body, yet the stillness within holds it at bay.
Lao Tzu says that In the world, the sage inhales (49:3). This sentence characterizes the manner in which the sage lives his life. In order to live in the world, the sage gathers Chi through inhalation, through physical and cosmic breath. This inhalation is not the shallow and surface breathing done through the nostrils. It is the embryonic and total body breathing learned by Taoist practitioners. This breath of life is the nutrition, energy, information, and wisdom that sustain the body and mind.
The sage knows the world without stepping out of the door (the gate of life), knows the Tao without peering through the window (eyes) (47:1), and smiles like a child (49:4). This is called unifying the world of in and out. The world of in is the source and the world of out is the mechanism. They exist as matter and energy, structure and motion, process and outcome. Source is the breath of life, the nutrition of vitality, and the energy of light. Breath is the state of vapor, vitality is the state of fluid, and light is the state of solid. Light is the central focal point, vitality is the generating force, and air is the inclusive space. By inhaling in this embryonic way, the vast space and cosmic presence are instilled in the flesh, the awareness, and interaction of the body. The world is known, the self is charged, and action is pure and simple in itself.
Action in its profundity is like a newborn baby.
Poisonous insects and venomous snakes do not sting it.
Predatory birds and ferocious animals do not seize it.
Its bones are soft and its sinews supple, yet its grasp is firm;
Without knowing the union of male and female, its organs become aroused.
Its vital essence comes to the point;
Crying all day, its voice never becomes hoarse.
Its harmony comes to the point.
(55:1–2)
When the body comes to the fore on its own, poisonous insects and venomous snakes do not sting it. Its bones are soft and its sinews supple, yet its grasp is firm. The central and essential action occurs in the right environment at the right time; this is engaging in right bodily conduct. This is why the mind must be relaxed. The arousal of organs supplies the power for voice, for response, for harmonious organic vibration. Softness creates the space of firmness.
Why to “value the trouble as you do the body”?
It is only because I have a body that I have trouble.
If I did not have a body, where would the trouble be?
So, if you value the world as you do the body,
You can be entrusted with the world;
If you love the body as you love the beauty of the world,
You can be responsible for the world.
(13:3–4)
Because the sage values the world as he does the body, he can be entrusted with the world. Because he loves his body as he loves the beauty of the world, he can be responsible for the world. As strength, will, and harmony are achieved, the value of body is displayed, its treasure as a sacred vessel is realized. The sage is free to be fully in the world and fully responsible for the world.
WU WEI: THE ACTION OF THE SAGE
Therefore the sage lives in actionless engagement,
And preaches wordless doctrine.
(2:3)
Begetting but not possessing,
Enhancing but not dominating.
This is Mysterious Action.
(10:2–3)
Eminent action is inaction,
For that reason it is active.
Inferior action never stops acting,
For that reason it is inactive.
Eminent action is disengaged,
Yet nothing is left unfulfilled;
Eminent humanness engages,
Yet nothing is left unfulfilled; . . .
(38:1–2)
The sage embodies the principle of Wu Wei, which means “actionless action” or “nondoing.” Wu Wei refers to action or response that arises spontaneously and effortlessly from a deep sense of nonseparation between oneself and one’s environment. It is not inertia or mere passivity. Rather, it is the experience of going with the grain or swimming with the current. Wu Wei refers to behavior occurring in perfect response to the flow of the Tao.
If we are to understand the principle of Wu Wei, we must consciously experience ourselves as part of the unity of life that is the Tao. Lao Tzu teaches that we must be quiet and watchful, learning to listen to both our own inner voices and to the voices of our environment in a noninterfering, receptive manner. In this way we also learn to rely on more than just our intellect and logical mind to gather and assess information. We develop and trust our intuition as our direct connection to the Tao. We heed the intelligence of our whole body, not only our brain. And we learn through our own experience. All of this allows us to respond readily to the needs of the environment, which of course includes ourselves. And just as the Tao functions in a manner to promote harmony and balance, our own actions, performed in the spirit of Wu Wei, produce the same result.
The spontaneous, natural, and effortless actions that are the expression of Wu Wei flow forth from the sage. These actions are virtuous action, Te; they are right action, appropriate to the time, place, and circumstance, and serving the needs of the harmony and balance of the Tao.
Through living in actionless engagement and preaching wordless doctrine, Lao Tzu discovered that the myriad creatures act without inquiring, nourish without possessing, accomplish without claiming credit. In ordinary life, we are educated and trained to project a possible outcome before taking action, to foresee a planned result through ego-guided action. We expect acknowledgment or reward for our efforts. But when the ego is in remission, the mind does nondoing, engages in non-affairs, and savors non-flavor. The essence of Wu Wei is “not to act with desire,” “not to engage egoistically,” and “not to become possessive.”
Not even relying on selflessness
Enables the self to be fulfilled.
(7:4)
Success is consequent to all affairs.
It does not proclaim its own existence.
All things return.
Yet there is no claim of ownership,
So it is forever desireless.
This can be called small.
All things return.
Yet there is no claim of ownership,
This can be called great.
The sage accomplishes greatness in not acting great.
Thus can he accomplish what is great.
(34:2-3)
Not even relying on selflessness enables the self to be fulfilled. There is no thought of self, there is no thought of selflessness.
Success is consequent to all affairs. It does not proclaim its own existence. All things return, yet there is no claim of ownership, so it is forever desireless. For the sage, there is no self-consciousness, there is no self-assertion, there is no desire, and there is no aversion.
This can be called small. This is because the tranquil mind can seek what is difficult with ease and effect what is great while it is small. From natural observation Lao Tzu realized that the most difficult things in the world are done while they are easy. The greatest things in the world are done while they are small, since what is easy necessarily entails difficulty. Thus the sage, through extreme trials, ends up with no difficulty.
The myriad creatures
Act without beginning,
Nourish without possessing,
Accomplish without claiming credit.
It is accomplishment without claiming credit that makes the outcome self-sustaining.
(2:4–5)
The sage responds spontaneously to what the Tao, to what the situation, calls for. There is no thought of oneself accomplishing something or claiming credit for accomplishing something.
The sage never plans to do a great thing.
Thus, he accomplishes what is great.
(63:5)
The sage accomplishes greatness in not planning a great thing and not acting great; as it turns out, he accomplishes what is great. Through non-acting action, the sage does not fail. Not clinging, he does not lose.
Lao Tzu explains that when the self is inactive, the body transforms itself; when the self abides in stillness, the body organizes itself; when the self is disengaged, the body enriches itself; when the self chooses nondesire, the body remains simple. Because he has rid his mind of murkiness, the sage regains self-awareness, self-clarity, and self-expressiveness, and desire and demand disappear naturally.
THE CHARACTER OF THE SAGE
In addition to Wu Wei, several other important qualities characterize the sage: Wu Zheng (noncompetition), Shan (kindness), and Xian (wisdom). We will discuss each quality in tern.
Wu Zheng, Noncompetition
Wu Zheng means far more than noncompetitiveness. It suggests not competing and not striving as demanded from the ego. It further represents mental confusion and unease through disputing or arguing. The essential meaning of Wu Zheng is “not to strive for what is beyond self and not to pursue what does not belong to self.”
People tend to have a negative attitude toward the literal meaning of noncompetition. The term noncompetition may connote a person who is too magnanimous, overly generous, too accommodating, too capitulating. Another negative image is of a person who is lacking confidence and self-respect, and who has no ability to protect or defend him- or herself.
This is not the ideal of the Taoist path. The nature of Wu Zheng is like the nature of water: it is yielding and fluid but infinitely strong. In Wu Zheng, there is no assertion of ego, with its false and forced needs and reactions. But there is a natural expression of being. In the complete expression of Wu Zheng, there is neither giving in nor giving up. Everything receives its due naturally, without manipulation.
The sacred mechanism of the world cannot be manipulated.
Those who manipulate it will fail,
Those who hold on to it will lose it.
(29:2)
The sage trusts the way of the Tao, and thus feels no need to manipulate anything. The sage feels no need to hold on to or resist anything.
So the sage abandons extremes, extravagance, multiplicity.
[He] desires not to desire and does not value goods that are hard to get.
(29:4; 64:8)
As one continues on the path of Taoist cultivation and lets go of all attachments, there is no negativity remaining as the desires and fears of the mind are transformed into subtle awareness. The final competition will not be about gains, success, name, and possessions, but the death of them all. Whoever overcomes death overcomes life, whoever lives beyond death lives beyond life.
The sage does not collect.
As soon as he exists for others, he has more.
As soon as he gives to others, he has more.
So the Tao of heaven benefits and does not harm.
The Tao of humankind exists and does not compete.
(68:2–3)
The sage realizes that when he exists for others, when he gives to others, he has abundance. At this level, the sage is able to manage the loss that causes all losses; he uses all negative influence as the treasure of teaching. Thus:
Being a good warrior does not entail power.
A good fighter is not angry.
One who is good at overcoming the enemy does not contact him.
One who is good at leading people acts humbly.
This is called the Action of noncompetition.
This is called leading people.
This is called the Ultimate as old as heaven.
(70:1–2)
Shan, Kindness
[The sage] is kind to those who are kind.
He is also kind to those who are not kind.
It is the kindness of Action itself.
(49:2)
Shan refers to kindness, goodness, or compassion. Lao Tzu emphasizes that kindness is the virtue of action: The sage is kind to those who are kind. He is also kind to those who are not kind. It is the kindness of Action itself. It is a dispassionate compassion. In this regard, the kindness of Action is not judged by the hun’s conscious activity, nor is it grasped at or repelled by po’s egoism. In the expression of kindness there should be no hope for personal gain. Nor should kindness be withdrawn if personal or social recognition is not forthcoming.
By employing kindness the sage has the ability to further the good of all. No one is left out and no talent is wasted. Those who are slow or weak are encouraged and supported by kindness. At the same time, those who show talent and are quick-thinking will unfold and explore their full potential through kindness. Lao Tzu calls this being in the tow of enlightenment . . . For everything that is good is the teacher of the good person. Everything that is bad becomes a resource for the good person. No need to honor the teachers. No need to love the resources (27:2–3). This is because both yin and yang are emerging from and being generated by the action of kindness. The body and mind, the inner consciousness and outer behavior, mirror each other.
Eminent goodness is like water.
Water is good at benefiting all things,
It retires to undesirable places.
Thus it is near to Tao.
Dwelling in good places,
Drawing from good sources,
Supplying from good nature,
Speaking with good trust,
Governing with good rules,
Conducting with good ability,
And acting within good time.
For this reason,
There is no competition,
There is no concern.
(8:2–4)
By employing kindness, the sage acts with compassion. The sage does exactly what must be done in response to each situation, no more and no less, out of the compassion that arises from knowing the unity and interconnectedness of all of life.
Lao Tzu says that if a sage must fight, he has nothing to fear, no concern. He must make a careful and complete judgment of his surroundings when confronted with danger. He must defend himself and others; there is no miscalculation, nothing is neglected. All that should be protected is secured.
Xian, Wisdom
To know others is to be knowledgeable,
To know oneself is enlightenment;
To master others is to have strength,
To master oneself is to be powerful.
(33:1)
Only those who are not slaves to life are wise to the value of life.
(77:2)
It is thus, without desire, that the wise see.
(79:4)
The nature of Xian in the Tao Te Ching concerns wisdom. The sage possesses deep wisdom. He or she may or may not demonstrate intellectual prowess in a wide variety of subjects; this is not necessarily the fruit of wisdom. To be wise is to see clearly, without the distortion of false desires, attachments, and fears. Only those who are not slaves to life are wise to the value of life defines the true power of wisdom. Only those who are not slaves to life have the inner freedom to see things as they truly are. It is thus, without desire, that the wise see.
Through discrimination, I have the knowledge to walk in the great Tao.
(53:1)
To be wise is to know the way of all things, to know the Tao. The wise are able to discriminate clearly and express and demonstrate that clarity in response to all the changing circumstances of life. It is thus that the sage exists without ownership, accomplishes without holding on.
The Chinese term Xian is equivalent to the word “sage” in English. The Chinese ideograph for Xian is a clear visual description of the life of the sage. It is composed with strokes of “human” (ren) and “mountain” (shan). In early forms of written Chinese language, the human stroke appears at the top and the mountain stroke at the bottom. It could be translated as “the human who stands on the top of a mountain.” The mountain is the ideal location for the wise man; nothing on earth is higher. Only the wind, clouds, and the standing tower of a human form can loom above the mountain peak. When the character was later rearranged, the “human” stroke was placed at the left side, and the “mountain” stroke was set at the right side. Perhaps the change was made because the mountain symbolized such a cold, windswept, and lonely form. Or perhaps the emperor resented a human form other than his own occupying the highest position on earth. He ordered the linguists to reconstruct the character, placing a prone sage sleeping side by side with the mountain. In this position there was no one standing at the top to threaten his image; his prestige and unequaled power were restored.
The soul seeker, the wandering pilgrim, anyone on the spiritual quest prefers to dwell in a mountain cave rather than a warm house or grand palace. Mountains are the symbols of life on earth. The generating, developing, and transforming power of earth lies in the vastness of mountains. In contrast, valleys are a resting ground, echoing place, and rejuvenating resource. The contrasting images of mountain and valley parallel the dualities of life and death, male and female, heaven and earth, being and nonbeing. Mountains generate the forces of winds and clouds, rain and snow, plateau and plain. They are the most sacred places on earth. In their nurturing atmosphere consciousness is expanded and sickness is detoxified. Walking the Taoist way becomes a returning journey; the external search becomes internal embracing. The sage embraces the wisdom and holiness, the Xian, of the mountains.
THE PATH OF THE SAGE
Knowing the Tao
Pursuing the Tao is an act of spiritual cultivation. Without the Tao, it is impossible to walk the spiritual path. Without the Tao, cultivation has no source, no root, no power, and no meaning.
To pursue the Tao is to become centered in one’s speech and conduct, to be grounded with a foundation, to be connected with nature, and to be harmoniously balanced between subjective inner experience and worldly affairs.
When eminent persons hear of Tao,
They practice it faithfully;
When average persons hear of Tao,
It seems that they practice it, and it seems they do not;
When inferior persons hear of Tao,
They ridicule it.
Without such ridicule, it would not be Tao.
Thus, the aphorism that suggests the way is:
Knowing the Tao seems costly.
Entering Tao seems like retreating.
Becoming equal with Tao gives birth to paradoxes.
(40:1–3)
When one truly recognizes the Tao, one recognizes its inestimable value and is compelled to align oneself and one’s life with it: When eminent persons hear of Tao, they practice it faithfully. This practice brings a big loss: knowing the Tao seems costly, entering Tao seems like returning, and becoming equal with Tao gives birth to paradoxes. It takes living life to know the Tao. Entering the Tao is consuming the life force you have been given; becoming equal with the Tao stands with two legs, grabs with two hands, views with two eyes, grounds with two feet, dances with two hearts, and sleeps with two worlds. All of this is the paradoxical nature of body and mind.
Gusty winds do not last all morning,
Cloudbursts do not last all day.
What makes this so?
Heaven and earth will not last forever,
How could a human being last!
So the person who works according to Tao unites with Tao.
In the same way he unites with action.
In the same way he unites with loss.
Uniting with action, the Tao becomes action.
Uniting with loss, the Tao becomes loss.
(24:2–5)
Heaven is eternal, and earth is long lasting. But gusty winds do not last all morning, cloudbursts do not last all day. Existing with the eternal Tao of the self and the temporary breathing of the Tao within us is the true duality, the true paradox. With each breath the sound and meaning of the Tao is exercised, thus one hears the Tao. By hearing and entering the Tao through its returning process, the thirst for knowledge is quenched by the light emitted through the gate of heaven. This ensures the complete knowing suggested by Lao Tzu.
Knowing the Tao is different from worldly knowing. Worldly knowing is driven by a self that wants to become rich with what the world offers. When one no longer feels compelled to be a knower in this way, the sickness is over; enlightenment is achieved.
Knowing the Tao is a spontaneous interaction between the self and the environment. It cannot be taught, repeated, or recorded. There is no need to attempt to explain the inexplicable and to search for the invisible. This is why Lao Tzu concludes simply that to know oneself is enlightenment.
Knowledge that is shared, taught, repeated, and recorded is no longer that of self-knowing. It is simply a learning process; it is not the alive, present, spontaneously interconnected experience of self-knowing. To know others is to be knowledgeable, albeit limited, bounded, restrained. Our limited knowledge is never sufficient to explore the comprehension and understanding of others. Shared knowledge merely promotes further searching, reaching out to grasp the power of mastering and endless control. In this manner, pursuing knowledge becomes a consuming desire, a fixation, and a possessive action. It is upon this mental persuasion that Lao Tzu kindly advises that to know what is sufficient is to be rich. He also distinguishes the actual knowledge the mind has acquired from the mental appraisal of ourselves as knowledgeable. He states that knowing that you don’t know (everything) is superior and not knowing that you don’t know (everything) is a sickness. Only hearing and entering the Tao can be known.
Embracing Simplicity
[J]ust let things be.
Observe the plain and embrace the simple.
Do not think much and do not desire much.
Get rid of learning and worry will disappear.
(19:2–3)
This is the way of hearing and entering the Tao. When we observe the plain and embrace the simple, we can be simply present; we are at peace, at rest, undistracted by worries and complexities.
Plain is the foundation of diversity, complexity, uncertainty, and unpredictability. Simplicity is the initial stage for growth, expansion, development, and completion. The anticipating and planning mind and the desire for results are cast out when these two are embraced. Learning will be simplified with total, mindful engagement. Lao Tzu clarifies this as: It is easy to sustain what is at rest. It is easy to plan for that of which there is not even a sign (64:1). Knowing this, Lao Tzu asserts that though simplicity is small, the world cannot treat it as subservient. If lords and rulers can hold on to it, everything becomes self-sufficient (32:2).
Also, simplicity supports efficiency. Lao Tzu advises that we [s]eek what is difficult with ease and effect what is great while it is small, since the most difficult things in the world are done while they are easy. The greatest things in the world are done while they are small. Because of this, the sage never plans to do a great thing. Thus, he accomplishes what is great (63:3-5).
Lao Tzu says that the sage keeps the mind simple and is always without his own mind (49:1,3). Simplicity of mind rather than complexity of mind is the heart of kindness. Simple mind is what Zen Buddhism calls “no-mind”—the largest expansion of mind—and the highest clarity of mind. No-mind means no ego-mind. It is a boundless expanse of awareness that allows spacious room for all that arises and resists nothing.
Living with simplicity is the practical side of cultivation. The sage lives for the world and not for himself. How? First of all, the sage keeps the mind simple: there is no distraction of attention, no waste of energy, and no confusion of mind. He is not restlessly struggling and striving for the things of the world. He is free from self-concern.
Secondly, the sage the sage engages with others simply, and he does not impose himself on others.
[S]ince the sage wants to elevate the people, his speech is down to earth.
Since the sage wants to advance the people, he positions himself at the back,
So that when he is at the front, people do not harm him.
When he stands above, people do not feel pressure.
The whole world supports him untiringly.
Since he does not rely on competition, the world has nothing with which to compete.
(66:2–4)
Thirdly, the sage is open, flexible, and not attached to specific outcomes. He is sensitive to others. The hope of people is his encouragement and their sorrow is his misfortune. When people want him, the sage is already there, waiting; when people need him, the sage is the pillar that braces them.
The Virtue of Frugality
When we embrace the plain and the simple, frugality becomes an important value. Frugality involves calculating the most direct and effective use of energy. As a result, waste is eliminated, and there is no debt, no regret, and no punishment. This is why the idea of loss is important in Lao Tzu’s teaching. When the cost of ego is reduced to zero and when bodily metabolism functions at its optimal state, energy is consumed for the benefit and good of others. Frugality ensures a simple way of life that supports the good of all.
Frugality has no connection to the selfish strategy of meanness or greed. Meanness and greed have their source in fear and obsession; the entire world becomes solely a source to satisfy the ego’s insatiable wants, lusts, and perceived needs. When gripped by greed, people constantly fear loss and lack. This has infinite worldly manifestations. True frugality is entirely different. There is no energy waste resulting from selfishness, fear, grasping, self-concern.
When frugality is the measure of daily life, one neither indulges in extravagance, nor allows selfishness to control. There should be no pollution in energy consumption; no ego anticipation in action; no contamination of heart; no confusion of mind; and no negativity arising through action.
Lao Tzu applies this to society by saying this:
For governing people . . . nothing is better than frugality. Only frugality enables the preemptive measures. Preemptive measures mean a great accumulation of Action. A great accumulation of Action leaves nothing to be conquered. When nothing needs to be conquered, no-boundary is known. When no-boundary is known, it allows the country to exist. The country, existing from its source, can endure. This is the Tao of having a deep root, a strong stem, a long life and an enduring vision.
(59:1–3)
In this way, neither the individual nor society need be concerned with, or consumed by, self-concern or self-protection. There is trust in life, trust in the Tao.
When frugality is maintained at home, one is perfectly grounded, and one quietly preserves the tranquility that masters the restless life. The virtue of frugality is the peace of not wanting. One is steadfastly reaching the ultimate emptiness, and resolute in concentrating on the central stillness (16:1). It is only through such qualities that all things work together. There is no bad luck, no backfire, no punishment, because one has no expectations, has done nothing wrong, and wasted nothing. One has no need to gain anything or fear losing anything. The harmony of the world becomes a true friend.
Nondualistic Mentality
In the world,
Everyone recognizes beauty as beauty,
Since the ugly is also there.
Everyone recognizes goodness as goodness,
Since evil is also there.
Since being and nonbeing give birth to each other,
Difficulty and ease complete each other,
Long and short measure each other,
High and low overflow into each other,
Voice and sound harmonize with each other,
And before and after follow each other.
(2:1–2)
Emerging through the “door” of the mysterious is the duality of creation and destruction. These are mutually dependent and mutually necessary processes. All of the dualities of life are mutually dependent and mutually necessary.
When one searches only for beauty, one stigmatizes the ugly. When people see beauty as pure beauty, they view the ugly disparagingly. In valuing the good as purely good, their judgment is based upon their idea of bad. But the universal manifests through the division of two from one, each depends on its opposite. The interaction of the many dualities that emerge from oneness is what makes one truly individual. This in turn makes an individual a non-individual. Beautiful or ugly is but two sides of the same coin. How much difference is there between beautiful and ugly? (20:1) It is a fine line.
Based on these paradoxes, Lao Tzu proposed that being and non-being give birth to each other, difficulty and ease complete each other, long and short measure each other, high and low overflow into each other, voice and sound harmonize with each other, and before and after follow each other (2:2). Yet, individual character is a middle ground between individuality and totality. We still discriminate, we still make choices.
The net of heaven is broad and loose, yet nothing slips through (75:5). Large or small, many or few, reward or punishment, are all done through Action (63:2). This is the measure of virtue and right judgment. Because of virtue, internal conscious intention and external physical performance are integrated, and nothing is left behind. A good traveler leaves no tracks. A good speaker is without flaw. A good planner does not calculate. A good doorkeeper does not lock the door, yet it cannot be opened (27:1). What this means is that we need to know how to interact without imposing ourselves or being locked in by our mental projection. There should be no mental imprinting, no residue of any kind, left behind; thus, no sickness results. This differs from the commonsense approach of doing something and then letting it go. It is a matter of clearing off the steps before one slips and falls. In order to reach this state of being we can only be what we are, and know—be aware of—what is around us. This is all that we can do:
Since hanging on to it will cause overflow; better to let go. Forced consent does not endure (9:1). Those who boast of themselves lose their stance. He who displays himself is not seen. He who justifies himself is not understood. He who lashes out does not succeed. He who builds himself up does not endure (22:1). The natural outcome is: He who does not display himself is seen. He who does not justify himself is understood. He who does not lash out succeeds. He who does not build himself up endures. Therefore, only the spirit of noncompetition makes things noncompetitive. So the old saying goes: “Yield, and retain integrity” (23:3-5).
The Wisdom of the Sage: Childlike and Ancient
The ancient sages of Tao are subtle and mysteriously penetrating.
Their depth is beyond the power of will.
Because it is beyond the power of will,
The most we can do is describe it:
Thus, full of care, as one crossing the wintry stream,
Attentive, as one cautious of the total environment,
Reserved, as one who is a guest,
Spread open, as when confronting a marsh,
Simple, like uncarved wood, opaque, like mud,
Magnificent, like a valley.
From within the murky comes the stillness.
The feminine enlivens with her milk.
Keeping such a Tao, excess is undesirable.
Desiring no excess, work is completed without exhaustion.
(15:1–5)
Lao Tzu vividly illustrates the psychospiritual quality and biological balance that the sage retains. Even though the sage returns to a childlike spiritual tranquility and lives within a refreshed bodily condition, he is not literally like a young child. There are important similarities between the body/mind state of the child and that of the sage—that is why sagehood is often compared to childhood. Yet there are important differences. The sage has the wisdom of experience that a young child does not have. In Memories, Dreams, Reflections, Jung writes that
Lao Tzu is the example of a man with superior insight who has seen and experienced worth and worthlessness, and who at the end of his life desires to return into his own being, into the eternal unknown meaning. The archetype of the old man who has seen enough is eternally true. At every level of intelligence this type appears, and its lineaments are always the same, whether it be an old peasant or a great philosopher like Lao Tzu. This is old age, and a limitation.
The word “old” in this context refers to the nearly completed state of biological manifestation, and to its expanse of personal and social experience. It is the rich quality of a long life’s journey. It is also the last stage before death. Jung portrays the stage of life ahead as a “limitation” because it represents death, mentally and spiritually. Yet for the sage, there is no fear. He has seen all, and is ready to “return into his own being.”
The sage retains the innocence, freshness, and lack of prejudice of the child, yet at the same time possesses the wisdom of life experience. The sage can be seen as an “ancient child.” The ancient child begins to withdraw from the world at the end of life not because he is sickened by the world, but because he is drawn into the heart. What attracts the eyes outward toward the world and the changing manifestations of form; what attracts the heart inwardly is the formless, changeless, and unfathomable eternity.
The main difference between the sage and the child is the life experience. Being cautious while crossing the winter stream describes a measured conscious awareness that comes through experience. Being attentive means being aware and focused; being reserved means being humble and acknowledging. Spreading open is the unrestrained mental space, simplicity is the ability to remain refreshed and energized, opaque is the quality of being Oneness within and without, and magnificent is the ability of retaining and rejuvenating the oneness within.
The wisdom of the sage is old and new, experienced and fresh, knowledgeable and humble, ready to die and ready to fly. He has a memory of life but is not restrained by memory; he has the richness of life experience but is unbounded by the meaning of life experience. He is a teacher and friend, guide and companion, destroyer of the old and protector of the new, a battery for generating and recharging everything. He is a body of soul and a heart of spirit, an upholder of justice, a voice for the nation, and a symbol for the human race.