William Martin's Blog, page 11

Outrage – Fire or Wave?

This has been a humbling and difficult post to write. It began with great energy after I read a report of a recent event that demonstrated once more the lunacy and cluelessness of modern society. I searched and selected powerful images that would illustrate my point. I wrote several paragraphs of highly entertaining prose that would make all of you who agree with me smile and shake your heads in wonder, “Boy, Bill sure hit the nail on the head there.” It felt good to express the energy of pure outrage that cascaded through my mind and body. How could a person not feel appalled at the injustice, destructive ignorance, and greed that fuels the economic engines of our society?

But what is the next step? What comes after outrage? Too often the habitual next steps are some combination of depression, despair, denial, and distraction. These responses are part of the conditioned process that keeps everything in line for the benefit of the few. A depressed and despairing population will quickly turn to some form of denial and distraction that keeps the engines of destruction purring along. I’ve lived with the teachings of Lao-Tzu for long enough now to realize that his quietist philosophy is not born of despair and denial. It arises from an ocean of serenity in which the outrage and fury, which are natural responses to destruction and injustice, can be transmuted into an energy that moves with the fluid and unstoppable power of water rather than the destructive fires of anger.

I tried for several days to find a fitting conclusion for my rant of self-righteous outrage. I began to see that my own feeling of outrage was, itself, a distraction. Everyone feels outrage. Some feel it at things that I think are actually helpful. I feel it at things that don’t bother others in the least. But outrage itself is rampant and media flocks to it like vultures to a carcass. I became aware that the post I was writing to share my outrage at a truly “outrageous” event, was itself just another diversion, another post of “ain’t it awful” at which we can shake our heads and then return to our own private sleep. Even at this moment I feel the urge to sneak in a comment about just exactly how outrageous this event really is; some snide slap at idiocy and lunacy. What would that accomplish? How would it bring me one more step along the path of Waking Up?

I have made a vow to use everything in my experience to see how I habitually go unconscious and asleep, so that I might wake up and discover my oneness with the Tao in all of its Mystery. So I stood and put on a DVD made by Lee Holden, my Qigong teacher, and did 20 minutes of practice in transferring that furious energy into the waves of Qi coursing through my body. By the time I was finished, the destructive fire that was burning in my mind and body had been changed to the power of water and I started writing a new post, not with blind anger but with all the clarity and compassion I could muster.

Nothing is more important than Waking Up and learning to pay attention to What Is. This task is ultimately a personal one. No one can take it on for me. It requires the mobilization of heretofore undiscovered personal resources, personal courage, and unflagging willingness. I must pinch myself awake hundreds of times each day, not so I can be a “good” person but so that I can experience more and more connection with the Mystery that is Life; so that I can open myself to the flow of resources and wisdom that are deeper, higher, and broader than any small conditioned human mind. This is the only answer to despair; the only way to transmute the fire of outrage into the cleansing wave of Tao; the only way to save the Earth.

Perhaps the melting of polar ice is a metaphor. As our polar caps melt and return to the ocean, the ocean will rise and begin to quench some of humanity’s hubris. You and I are like frozen drops of ocean water. As  frozen drops, we are pretty much powerless. But if we allow ourselves to melt back into the ocean, we reunite with That which is Infinite, Powerful, and the Only Energy that can cleanse the Earth. It is not enough to unite with other frozen drops in a protest march. We must melt, dissolve, and let our experience be that of Ocean rather than ice. We are part of Tao, God, Buddha, Brahman, Great Spirit, the Nameless Mystery. Only as we become That can we do and be what is necessary.

Only a Consciousness greater than the conditioned mind of humanity can restore balance to our world. Connecting with that Consciousness is the most important individual task for each and every person alive. What must we do to transmute our outrage and anger? We must take every moment of life as an opportunity to use our own personal practices of waking up; to melt, reunite, and become That Which We Are. Then, and only then, will justice surge through our lives and actions.

We Are Drops of Water – Guest Post by Nancy Martin

This post is used by permission of Nancy Martin – editor of Eating for Revolution

My relationship with water has been expanding this summer. Being born and raised in the southern Arizona desert, I have always loved water in its many forms: streams and rivers, thunderstorms and flash floods (gully washers we used to call them); lakes and pools. It is only recently that I am expanding that appreciation to the water which makes up 90% or more of most plants and animals; trees and grasses; the veggies on my plate and the cells of my body.

I remember a folk hymn chorus: “We are drops of water, in a mighty ocean. We are sons and daughters of one life.” I am not sure of its origin, but the words have rippled through my mind recently.

The Lakota Sioux at Standing Rock and their fight for the rights of water, bring them to mind. It strikes me, (accurately or not), that they are battling not only for their right to have access to clean water, but for the right of the water in the river to remain free and clear. There is something powerful about seeking to nurture and protect the water which nourishes and enables our lives. It goes far beyond environmental impact and the legal issues of who “owns” the water. There is the call to conscious relationship with water not as a resource to be used, but as our life’s blood. We all share in this water-filled existence of humanity.

Our northern California home is on a forested hillside. Our well provides some of the most natural, clean, balanced water in the world. The question comes to me, how do I honor the water that passed through my life?

I have begun a couple of simple practices. One is to have a clean water bowl for the kitchen sink. We use it to rinse fruits and vegetables and to splash over the dishes at the end of a meal. It’s also there to catch the water when I am waiting for the tap water to turn hot. Several times a day I carry it out to one of the trees or bushes that surround the yard and offer it back to the earth – rather than feeding it down a drain and into a water treatment system that it does not need. It is not a ceremony, just a thought of gratitude and wishing it well as it nurtures other living things in my environment.

I hold that same thought when I add water to the pond for the deer, squirrels and birds who share this bit of land. When I turn the sprinklers on, I celebrate the way the water is free to evaporate or settle to the soil – to change form in order to refresh its nature and continue its journey to the sea.

There is a sacred nature to water – worthy of our gratitude and our protection. I hope to keep discovering ways to live in humble awareness of being a drop of water in a mighty ocean of life.

Hurry, Hurry, Hurry

Do you have the patience to wait till your mud settles and the water is clear?

Can you remain unmoving till the right action arises by itself?

From The Tao Te Ching, Chapter 15 – trans. Stephen Mitchell

The modern mind is addicted to urgency. It is conditioned to hurry, fix, solve, adjust, fiddle with, arrange, and put things in order as quickly as possible. It is uncomfortable when something is, “left undone.” It cannot abide, “loose ends.” If the water is muddy, the conditioned mind will  stir it even faster, hoping that the energy of the stirring will somehow put things right. The idea of sitting patiently until “right action” naturally arises all by itself seems like idle nonsense, a sure-fire way to left behind in a world of constant tumultuous activity.

I experience this addictive process every day in countless ways. I will peruse my email inbox and certain emails will flash a message to my brain that gets translated as, “You forgot to attend to this, you dummy. Handle it NOW!” Handling it now, of course, involves dropping the book chapter I had been working on, getting in the car, and driving five miles into town where a wifi signal is available – in the process forgetting the letter I wanted to mail while out. The book chapter fades away and an email response that could easily have waited another day is handled in a hurried, less than thoughtful manner.

Another type of conditioned urgency I feel is when I am working on a project and hit a snag of some sort. I want to finish the project, whether it is a household task, a website format, or a piece of writing. It was going so well and now it’s stymied. So I push ahead, forcing the pieces to fit together. Suddenly the whole thing disintegrates before my eyes and I am left farther behind than I was yesterday. Sadly, I often then redouble the effort in an urgent attempt to catch up.

A third urgent process in which my mind indulges doesn’t even involve action. My conditioned mind just spins away all on its own – making up an urgent task; telling me all sorts of nasty truths about myself for not having taken care of it earlier; then telling me why I can’t work on it now; then slipping quickly into another urgent message and repeating the process. All this is, of course, occurring while I am sitting trying to read a pleasant novel.

When I remember Lao-Tzu’s advice and step back from the gyrations of my brain I experience the marvelous way in which urgency naturally dissipates and settles down. I turn my attention to a quieting activity such as Qigong, meditation, a walk, immersion in a good book,  preparing food, chopping wood, or anything else that gives time for the message of, “Do this now!” to be exposed for the habitual fabrication it really is.

Some things naturally should be handled now, in the moment. But if I watch carefully, even these  things are not accompanied by the addictive urgency that always hinders clarity and effective action. If you ever have had the chance to watch an experienced Emergency Medical Team in operation you know the kind of action I mean. Emergency Responders are at their best when they are completely immersed in what is called for by the moment at hand. They move with astonishing speed and skill, but without any sense of anxiety or agitation that would hinder their best service. Their work is almost a moving meditation and emerges from the quiet still place they have cultivated within their minds through extensive practice and training.

The pseudo-urgency that so clouds some of my daily responses does not have to continue to plague me. I know the antidote. I know the practices that would gradually loosen and disconnect the conditioned pathways within my mind that keep the process in place. This short essay has been an case in point for me. Several times over the past half-hour I have watched a synapse within my brain flash like a neon light, telling me of something I need to go take care of, NOW. “You can return to your writing later. You’ll feel better if you get this taken care of NOW.” This is the classic message of addiction, “You’ll feel better if you do what I tell you. I’ll make you more and more anxious until you finally do what I tell you.”

This typical addictive process is always a lie. It never delivers what it promises. All it gives us is the temporary relief from the anxiety that its very own messages have created, setting us up for a repeat performance in the near future. Instead of listening, I have stopped typing for a moment, taken some deep breaths, let my thoughts settle, reminded myself that nothing is urgent, and then returned to my writing. As a result I am finished with this short piece. I will post it tomorrow or the next day. There is no urgency in that. I’m going now to sit on the porch and read the new Michael Connelly thriller about detective Harry Bosch – a complete waste of time, no socially redeeming value whatsoever.

Enjoy your day.

Nothing’s Wrong

I’ve been using some rather colorful language the past couple of evenings. Nancy has been away visiting friends and I have been reasonably comfortable with my solitude. I do well, as we all do, when things go “according to plan.” A much-needed computer cord was due to arrive from Amazon yesterday by 8pm. “It’s on it way,” the tracking page boasted. “It’s out for delivery!” it chortled. “It’s been delivered and signed for by W. Martin!” it finally boasted.

Not.

I don’t know who signed for it or where it was delivered, but it wasn’t this W. Martin. Now I knew that Amazon, when contacted the next day, would bend over backwards to see that a replacement was delivered. This was no big deal. So why the stomping, swearing, and scaring the cat? Because, “this was wrong! This shouldn’t happen!” No wonder I avoid reading the latest on the national election farce. If I can call a missed delivery, “wrong,” imagine what words I would use for the chaos of culture.

But really, there is nothing wrong. Everything simply is. Cause and effect is a will-o-the-wisp that cannot be followed, for everything is the result of an infinite regression of causes and a convoluted intertwining of actions and events. Of course some things are sad, some are frustrating, some are tragic, and some manage to go “according to plan.” When all is said and done, things simply are. I may decide to take action to seek to change some things, to solve some problems, to be helpful in difficult circumstances, but all is predicated on acknowledging that what is, is.

So I am perfectly free to consider Donald Trump an unmitigated fool; to see political posturing as a cultural folly; and to bemoan global warming as a human-induced tragedy. I can mourn the loss of life in war, feel despair at the sickness of a child, and weep at the death of a close friend. I am also able to take action to solve problems and provide what I hope to be helpful outcomes. What is not helpful, however, is to internalize the assumption that, “something’s wrong.” Each time I make that assumption I create a sense of separation from life, a feeling that I am right and someone, something, “out there” is not.

We are not separate little separate beings to whom this thing called “Life” is happening. We are Life. Therefore we do not need to find some hidden reason why things happen. We only need to ask, “what shall I do with this moment, as it is?” As an inseparable part of Life, we are able to draw on the insight, wisdom, and capabilities of the “Whole” as we make our choices and determine our actions. This is why Lao-Tzu says, “Can you be still and let the mud settle and the water clear before taking action?” The ability to be still, quiet, and receptive to the deeper Wisdom of which we are an intrinsic part is an essential skill for contented living.

Of course we experience a huge feeling of “wrongness” when we consider the world from a certain perspective. This is understandable. What I notice, however, is that this feeling never, ever, helps me as I seek to understand events and determine appropriate action. It always puts me in an adversarial relationship with Life and such a relationship is not necessary. There is an intrinsic virtue that flows in all beings, a power or energy that knows the most helpful, compassionate, and appropriate action in each moment. Such an energy is found only when we become still, let the energy of anger channel into compassion, and take the next small step that is waiting in front of us in every situation.

Easy to say. Hard to do. Important to know.

Our First Live Chat

Ok, we're going to try something out. In recent months at Taoist Living we've been exploring online presence, engaging with communities on Facebook and Twitter. Next Thursday, we are going to host a live chat on a Facebook event page. It's an "Ask Me Anything" style conversation; we can cover anything from favorite ice cream flavor to activism or the intersection of Taoism and the practice of parenting.
Here's the event page: https://www.facebook.com/events/21378...

You can post a question in advance that will be addressed on Thursday, or join us live, 7:30pm Eastern time, 4:30 Pacific.

See you there!

“Ways”

I just finished reading, in two extended sittings (unusual for me) the new edition of Kent Nerburn’s, Neither Wolf nor Dog. It is a semi-fictional narrative of an actual friendship between a white man and an elderly Indian that unfolds gently and gracefully, with a humor and an openness that allows the sorrow, shame, and anger felt by the older man to be expressed in ways that both instruct and inspire.

Nerburn avoids the twin traps that ensnare most non-native writers – either an anthropological distance from or a romanticized veneration of native culture. The dialogue that emerges from the characters is honest and earthy. The relationships are real rather than idealized. The story unfolds without being weighed down by literary frills, yet the writing is often beautiful and moving.

Native American philosophy/spirituality has many similarities to the Taoism of Lao-Tzu. This seems only natural as both arise from a quiet mindful observation of the “Way Things Work.” Both “Ways” assume that human beings function best when they align themselves with the flow of nature and perceive themselves as part of a larger Whole. Both assume that silence is more helpful than words; that patiently waiting is better than precipitous action; that actions need never be hampered by a false urgency; that the best work is done without thought of gain; that an internal virtue flows through all beings; that a cooperative anarchy is the best form of government; and that leaders should be humble guides rather than rulers.

I enjoyed the descriptions of the patient and quiet silence that permeated the lives of the older Native Americans in the story. I was also aware that I rarely experience such a quality in my own life or in the culture around me. I could feel the white narrator’s discomfort as he continually fell into the trap of speaking too soon, saying too much, and being unaware of his own cultural biases. He does not idealize native culture and makes it only too clear how difficult it is for the modern Indian to “Walk the Way.” Perhaps it is as difficult as it is for me to walk my own “Tao/Way” in a world that ignores and dismisses all ancient “Ways” as uncivilized, impractical, and quixotic.

I write of my experience with this wonderful book because I believe it is an excellent expression of the Tao as it manifests itself in a culture other than my own or that of ancient China. If you have the chance to read it I would hope that you catch a glimpse of Taoist living from a different perspective. Looking at the Tao through different cultural metaphors I believe we gain a deeper understanding of how this Path might manifest itself in our own lives. We’re not alone in our longing for a more authentic life. We are not alone in our sorrow over something we’ve lost that we can’t quite articulate. Billions of people in this modern world suffer from some sense of displacement, grief, and rootlessness. Perhaps if we acknowledge this common thread, we might move closer to a common understanding of the pilgrim path that winds through all our cultural wastelands. Perhaps by walking it together we will gain enough strength to reestablish it as the Way of Life for all peoples.

Walking the Tao

I have translated and interpreted the Tao Te Ching for thirty years and I never tire of exploring its fathomless depths. Recently I guided a group of students from several different countries through an intensive email exploration of this classic book. As part of that exploration titled Walking the Tao, I wrote a new translation especially for these fellow travelers. I wrote it from my current (2016) understanding and life situation and it emerged quickly and easily. I meant it simply as a touch point for this small group of students. However the feedback regarding this translation was so overwhelmingly positive that I have decided to incorporate it into a little ebook.

It is now available on Kindle at Amazon for $4.99. If you don’t like to “e-read” I will be glad to send you a PDF version which you can print out. Both versions include my short commentary on each chapter plus some suggested reflections.

Amazon Kindle Edition

PDF Printable Edition

(this will take you to my PayPal link where you can pay by credit card – or if you prefer, you can send a check to me at PO Box 982, Mount Shasta, CA 96067 – make sure and include your email address. When I receive payment I will send out a PDF)

Making a Contribution

I’ve mentioned Rob Greenfield several times in the past few blogs. His life is quite dissimilar from mine. He is 29 years old, I am 71 years old. He has bicycled across America. I’d be reluctant to bicycle down to the end of my driveway. He is outgoing and at home in the world of video and the Internet. I am introverted and at home, well… when I’m at home. For all the dissimilarities, I have found this young man to be for me, a true prophet – one who speaks truth with clarity and whose very life is an invitation to change and to action.

His enthusiasm and deep commitment have been a wake-up call for me. His message has gently nudged me to examine a fundamental assumption that has, all my life, kept me from all the joy and freedom I intellectually know is possible. Ever since leaving the profession of Engineering over forty years ago, I have been living with one foot lightly on the gas pedal of commitment to making a contribution to others, and the other foot heavy on the brake pedal of trying to live a successful, comfortable, and secure life as defined by my society’s standards. I don’t have that many years left and it is time for me to take my foot entirely off the brake.

I do not diminish the reality that I have made contributions. I have written eleven published books and have taught hundreds of students in several different venues. Many readers and students have expressed their appreciation for my work. Yet I have never really let their appreciation sink into my consciousness. Expressions of gratitude have always made me uncomfortable, not because of any virtue of humility, but because it hasn’t been real for me. I have been too immersed in “trying to make a living.”

My books sell thousands of copies each year and are translated into seven different languages, but it hasn’t been enough because it hasn’t afforded me a “living.” I honestly believe in living a simple life, free from the constraints of a consumer culture, but my belief has been counteracted by a subconscious frustration that I haven’t been “successful” in cultural terms. So I try to live simply while still clinging to the unconscious assumptions that run counter to that simplicity.

The only way out is to completely redefine my purpose for the remaining years of my life. Instead of trying to find the finances to keep myself comfortable and secure, I will simply try to make a contribution – without developing a strategy to make that contribution “pay.” I will face the fundamental question: Can I trust the Flow of Tao? I have purported to trust that Flow, but have constantly waited for and concentrated on the “inflow” before ever considering the “outflow.” It is time to fully open the other end of the pipe.

What does that mean? Like most of my life, I’m figuring it out as I go along, but there are some basic understandings I am working with:

I want to move toward needing the least possible income necessary for a simple healthy life. To do this I will have to eliminate some outstanding debt and rearrange my priorities. This may take a couple of years to iron out.
I want to focus my writing on helping to make a contribution to happiness, health, and freedom for as many people as possible, and to make that writing available as widely as possible.
I want to step outside my introverted comfort zone and interact with people in new and authentic ways, giving what I have to give in any way I can to students, readers, and friends. One step in this direction will be opening this blog to comments. I do ask that your comments be in the spirit of sharing ways we can each give our gifts to a wounded world.

I will keep you posted in the coming days as I look for ways of making my life a contribution rather than a struggle.

Blessings,

Bill

Growing Old American

I’ve been reading the blog and viewing the videos of a remarkable young man, Rob Greenfield. Rob is indeed as he describes himself, “a Dude making a Difference.” He brings vitality and enthusiasm to a life of simplicity and service.

When a young person chooses a life of radical simplicity, I sense that he is an inspiration to others. However, when an older person settles for a simple, uncomplicated life he is often dismissed as being dissociated from the world, even a bit depressed. “He’s narrowing his life,” relatives complain. “He doesn’t seem interested in things any more.” It translates into a mild pity that he somehow has not been successful at living the American Dream and arriving at a retirement age able to travel and play in serene comfort.

How does someone in his seventies “make a difference?” Who pays attention to this person? Indeed, why should this person care whether or not anyone pays attention? Yet, when a culture is clearly in its decaying decades, is it not the responsibility of each person to speak a word of truth and endeavor to live a life by the light of new, more sustainable, compassionate and counter-cultural principles and assumptions?

Let’s be clear. America will never be “great again.” It may find its footing and take its place in a new and different world, but it will never be “great” in the manner that is being trumpeted today. It is not the greatest nation on earth. It ranks well behind other nations in education, health care, life expectancy, standard of living, happiness, and social services. It leads only in military spending and consumption of natural resources.

There may be times when a community can work out differences in a manner which satisfies all concerned, but only when there is a fundamental consensus as to the nature and purpose of the community itself. Without that consensus, what we idealize as “democracy” is merely the tyranny of a slim majority over a large minority. Lao-Tzu saw government as able to be effective only when it was a slightly modified form of anarchy; the willing cooperation of like-minded people, bound not by rules but by a common objective.

Many people in the country seem to want limited social services, tightened borders, increased military spending, diminished environmental regulations, and unlimited growth. Many others want universal health care, limited military spending, tighter environmental controls, limits to growth, and open paths to citizenship. These are fundamental differences in understanding of the social contract.

I don’t believe I can, by argument, persuade any portion of the population to give up their views and agree with mine, nor can they persuade me. Must we tolerate a win-lose situation where half the country watches the whole country go in a direction they deeply oppose? When Barack Obama won the 2008 election, the Tea Party arose immediately. I considered them as crazy as the Tea Party in Alice’s Wonderland, but they were sincerely opposed to a direction that I sincerely favored. Are we going to continue to try to force our way upon each other every four years? Can we continue to function under the tyranny of a slim majority of either side? I fear that process will soon lead to a true overt tyranny under a demagogue leader; and thus increase the possibility of violent rather than peaceful revolution.

The constant yo-yo between “my way!” no, “my way!” has led to the gridlock in government that has plunged our nation into decades of inertia. I see no way to break this fundamental stalemate other than some form of, “You go your way, I’ll go mine.” My mind stutters at the complexities involved, but there may be no other non-violent viable choice. In the meantime, I have no choice but to consider how I, as an individual, can “go my way” and create a simple, authentic, free, and compassionate life separate from most social assumptions and structures, and therefore free from the tyranny they impose.

I have no commitment to the future of America. I do have a deep commitment to doing everything I can to live a compassionate life toward all beings. If a government were to dedicate itself to finding ways of fostering this compassion, I would be delighted, but I have been disappointed for so many decades that I no longer hold out much hope of that. None of us can afford to wait for any government to lead us into a compassionate future. Politicians ask us to “get on board” their campaigns. Rather let them “get on board” with the thousands of individuals who are turning their lives to new and creative ways of being alive on the planet earth.

Resources:

Feed Back  and  Food Shift  – two organizations fighting food waste and world hunger

Into The West

All trouble begins in the mind.

If we cultivate a mind that’s still and calm,

spacious and open,

we can deal with trouble before it starts.

A tree grows naturally, without effort,
beginning with a tiny seedling.
A thousand mile journey is taken, without effort,

beginning with a single step.

So don’t let a restless mind
lead you to aggressive action.
If you force events, you will fail.
Be patient.
Let your actions emerge from a quiet place.
In this way all beings will be blessed.

The Tao Te Ching – Chapter 64 – trans. William Martin

There are two images that the phrase, “Into the West” evokes in my imagination. One is the haunting song by Annie Lennox that concluded the Lord of the Rings film trilogy. These poignant lyrics echoed a sense of the soul’s final journey, not to an end, rather to something entirely new and wonderful; a leaving behind the known lands and venturing into the green hills of a new beginning. Plaintive and sad, it is also affirmative of a passing into something marvelous.

The other image is one that has been with me for decades, formed by several classic paintings: “Lao-Tzu travels into the West.” Tradition has it that the founder of philosophical Taoism, after many decades of teaching a peaceful and natural “way” of living, became so disillusioned with the politics and economics of his culture that he mounted an ox and withdrew into the West. “West,” for him was out of the Capital city and through the Han Gu Pass over the mountains. This pass was guarded and the border sentinel recognized the sage and refused to let him pass without leaving his written teachings behind. Lao-Tzu resisted, saying, “If I write it down, it won’t be the Tao.” Eventually he relented and wrote the eighty-one brief poetic chapters that became the Tao Te Ching – perhaps the most translated book in history outside of the Bible. He then left the country and was never heard from again.

The Passage into the West is an essential journey for each of us. It must be taken, gladly and willingly or with great resistance and frustration. Without such a journey we become trapped by the illusions of culture and end up failing to find the kind wisdom, inspiration, and encouragement that is necessary for cultural transformation. Lao-Tzu had to leave before his true gift to the world could be passed on. He had to step outside of the illusion in order to have the final clarity he needed to write his classic masterpiece.

The Passage into the West is unique for each of us. There are some general signposts, but each person must travel a somewhat different road. There are, however, many pilgrims on the path whose fellowship and encouragement is available. The general direction of the journey is away from the honeyed cultural traps that would immobilize us and drain us of our life force and natural initiative. Our path turns us away from the fantasies, illusions, and downright lies that have motivated us for so long. It is a difficult passage, much like the legendary journey of the Israelites out of Egypt into the desert. When faced with the realities of desert life, most of the escaped slaves wanted to turn back; “At least we had something to eat in Egypt.”

I know the feeling. Nancy and I are at the Han Gu Pass and feeling all the hesitation and resistance. But freedom is available and we are not going to turn it down. Like Lao-Tzu, perhaps the greatest contribution any of us can make to society will come from a vantage point that is, at least to some degree, outside of the myths that society. Of course we are still “in” society in many concrete ways. We use money. We buy and sell. We depend on a web of commerce to some degree. We find that the Han Gu Pass is really a place in the mind through which a person passes and is then able to be free of the conditioned demands, the fears, the distractions, the gladiator games of politics and entertainment, and the bread and circuses of a dying culture. These things exist, but no longer have any power in our moment-to-moment experience of life.

Lao-Tzu could have been accused of abdicating responsibility. Even the sentinel’s pressure was part of the cultural myth, “You must remain within the given paradigm or you will be a pariah, an outcast, shunned. It is your duty to remain.” By “remain,” the myth means; continue to believe the lies, continue to participate in the games, and continue to support the systems. In fact, the only responsible act is that of stepping away from the co-dependent life, the life of continually hoping that if we just try harder we can make the addictive system function once again. Once we’ve gone through the Han Gu Pass, we can begin to see what actions are truly needed. Until then we see only dimly, weighed down by myths and assumptions, fears and fancies. The Pass is located in your mind. You don’t have to travel to pass through it. You simply have to take that single step, that internal step, away from the illusory safety and comfort of the known, and start out on your own journey Into the West.

Happy Trails,

Bill

Some potential fellow travelers:

Rob Greenfield – A Dude Making a Difference

Colin Beavan – No Impact Man