William Martin's Blog, page 9

The Picture of America

Oscar Wilde’s iconic novel, The Portrait of Dorian Grey, is a telling and powerful metaphor for the America that created the Trump presidency. In the novel, the young and handsome Dorian has his portrait painted by an artist who is enamored by his beauty. Dorian is seduced in various ways into a hedonistic, materialistic, and immoral lifestyle in which he uses people, abuses them for his own amusement, and eventually commits murder. Along the way he makes a Faustian pact that insures that he will always remain handsome and youthful on the outside, while his portrait, hidden safely away in the attic, will bear the signs of his aging and dissipation. In the end, Dorian tries to reform but even that reform is self-centered and superficial. He finally confronts the horribly disfigured portrait and, in despair, plunges a knife into the picture. His servants below hear a cry and rush to the attic to find their master, wrinkled and repulsive, on the floor with the knife in his chest.

As a nation, we have kept our image polished over the years. We have convinced ourselves, though lately not that many others, that we are young, handsome, and altogether lovely. Oh, to be sure, we have admitted to a few flaws, but in general we have considered ourselves to be actually quite admirable. Our own Faustian bargain has allowed us to pursue a lifestyle that is chained to conspicuous consumption and closely held comforts while boasting an image of independence and freedom. All the while Donald Trump has been the portrait hanging in the attic.

Now the portrait has emerged from the attic and we have to look directly at what we’ve become. And it is indeed “we,” not, “they,” for we have all, to some degree, been complicit in reaping the benefits of our history and allowing fear and greed to infect our national soul. Is there time for repentance? I believe so. But unlike Dorian Grey’s, our repentance must be deep and authentic. It must begin with a difficult and courageous period of standing in front of the portrait and letting the true horror sink in. Then will come the arduous task of acknowledging the myriad ways in  which we have chosen, tacitly or deliberately, to let this come about. Only then can we begin to undo the harm and learn to make new choices; choices based on a fresh sense of humility and a willingness to do the difficult work of building a truly compassionate and principled nation. This work will be a hero’s journey into the heart of our spiritual and social life. Like all journeys it will begin with a single step, then unfold one step at a time into an unknown future.

Unlike Dorian Grey, we will not plunge a knife into our heart. We will instead paint a new portrait of ourselves, an honest and authentic portrait of a new nation, dedicated to the principles of universal compassion and abundant love.

(One helpful model is this link to a resolution, adopted by the San Francisco Board of Supervisors: )

The Time is Now

When the best seeker hears of Tao he strives with great effort to know it.

When an average seeker hears of Tao he thinks of it now and again.

When the poorest seeker hears of Tao he laughs out loud.

Tao is always becoming what we have need for it to become.

If it could not do this

it would not be Tao.

There is an old saying,

The clear way seems clouded.

The straight way seems crooked.

The sure way seems unsteady.

The greatest power seems weak.

The purest white seems stained.

The abundant seems empty.

The stable seems shaky.

The certain seems false.

The Great Square has no corners.

The Great Vessel is never filled.

A beginner may be clumsy,

but after practice – what talent!

A large drum may sit silently, but when banged – what noise!

Tao lies hidden,

yet it alone is the glorious light of this world.

The Tao Te Ching, Chapter 41, trans. Jonathan Star

Dear Friends,

It has been awhile since I communicated and I apologize. I have posted a few blogs on Taoist Living since the election, but have pretty much kept myself in a winter hibernation mode, doing the things that nurture me and waiting to see what might come next on my path of Tao. Needless to say, I am dismayed at the new “face” of this country but have gradually come to realize that it is really the face we have worn for many decades, albeit often well disguised. In that sense I am grateful for the election. It is a clear alarm bell that alerts me that the American Dream has become a nightmare and it is time to wake up. If Hillary Clinton had become President I would have sighed, turned over, and gone back to sleep. That would have been a tragic mistake.

Some have been sounding this warning in various ways for decades, even centuries. But we have been too deeply asleep or too distracted to pay much attention. Some have heeded and joined the chorus of writers, healers, seers, philosophers, farmers, poets, scientists, and public figures who have tried to raise the alarm to little avail. I don’t know what the addition of my voice will do, but it seems to be what is mine to offer at the moment. I know I have written of the need for a revolutionary transformation of our society in books and essays over the past three or four years, but I confess that, honest as these writings have been, they have emerged from a half-awake, half-asleep state, as if I were mumbling the truth in a somnambulant trance, saying things but not really listening to myself.

I am waking up, still a bit groggy, but waking up. The crisis point of our world is no longer a vague date in the near future that we might be able to avoid by voting for the right government, enacting the right laws, or marching in the right protest. It is here; it is real; and it is now. It is no longer some “future generation” that is at risk, but our very own children and grandchildren, even our own selves. We can no longer wait for leaders to emerge and save us. We must do it ourselves. Lao-Tzu suggests in The Tao Te Ching that such is the way it has always been.

I am not calling for armed rebellion or violent confrontation. To take that path would be to accept the premise that solutions can emerge from the very paradigm that has caused the chaos in the first place. I’m thinking of action that is far more radical, far more transformative, and far more difficult than picking up an automatic weapon. Our lives, my life, must be reformed on a radically new economic, social, educational, and spiritual basis. I don’t know the details. More visionary and creative people than I will have to step up. All of us will have to combine our ideas, gifts, courage, and sacrifices if a viable future is to be formed. I do know some beginning steps that I am going to take and see where they might lead.

I’m returning to my spiritual practices with renewed commitment and willingness to connect to the Reality of Life. I call it Tao, for lack of a better word. Tao means “Way” and it is a mysterious, even mystical Way, that involves a spiritual connection with the entire cosmos. Like its more austere cousin, Zen, Taoism can be practiced as a somewhat sterile philosophical system that skims over the deeper ecological and spiritual truths. I have often fallen prey to this surface intellectualism, happy to stay locked in my mind pondering the imponderable and scrutinizing the inscrutable. I am thankful that the Tao Te Ching does not let me get away with this for it contains ample corrective verses that remind me to sink into my Source, return to my Origins, and become One with the Mother Tao. Lao-Tzu’s mysticism and earth-centered spirituality continually remind me to connect my mind, my heart, and my spirit; to let the energy of the Cosmos flow into and through me, uniting me with the Mystery in which I live and reminding me of my fundamental identity as a child of the Mother Tao. This identity will be essential to remember in the coming days.

Nancy and I have shifted to a plant-based diet for three reasons. Reason one is to disengage from the meat industry – perhaps the most environmentally destructive, health degrading, and cruel industry in existence. Every second of every day a football field sized area of rain forest is destroyed to allow grazing for livestock. That meat is exported to the United States. One hamburger requires the permanent destruction of 55 square feet of rain forest. It is this rapidly diminishing rain forest that is the primary weapon we have against global climate change. It is the source of the biodiversity upon which all of life depends.

The second reason for this dietary shift is health care. It seems evident that the government is going to back away from any health care responsibility so we will have to create new models of personal and community care. Most chronic illnesses, including heart disease, type 2 diabetes, and cancer can be best prevented, treated, and even reversed by a shift in diet away from animal products. Kaiser Permanente is the largest HMO in the United States with 182,000 employees, including 17,000 physicians. It has now endorsed a plant based diet as a vital part of total health care. Here is an excerpt from the Spring 2013 Kaiser Permanente Journal:

“Research shows that plant-based diets are cost-effective, low-risk interventions that may lower body mass index, blood pressure, HbA1C, and cholesterol levels. They may also reduce the number of medications needed to treat chronic diseases and lower ischemic heart disease mortality rates. Physicians should consider recommending a plant-based diet to all their patients, especially those patients with high blood pressure, diabetes, cardiovascular disease, or obesity”

Kaiser has published a helpful booklet on the subject. link: https://share.kaiserpermanente.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/The-Plant-Based-Diet-booklet.pdf

The third reason is compassion. Two years ago I easily ignored the reality of  the “factory farms” that produce most of the beef, chicken, and pork we consume in this country. Something has shifted within me and I now see that cruelty to any living being hardens the heart in such a way that cruelty, violence, and torture of human beings becomes more and more a part of “the way things are.” These three connections: environment, health, and compassion are not easy to make because we are so conditioned to use meat without conscious thought. I’ve included some good resources at the end of this essay you might consider.

Health care has caused Nancy and me to make some other changes. Both of us have experienced the healing effects of Qigong – the Chinese system of “energy work” that has been used for thousands of years by Chinese healers, including modern hospitals. Nancy is also trained as a Reiki Master. Reiki is essentially the Japanese version of Qigong – the use of “universal energy” as a healing force. We are rededicating ourselves to the use of these practices, both for ourselves and for our community in whatever way we are able.  We will also rely on alternative medical care and use western medicine only in cases where no other option exists.

These changes are modest and simply the tip of the iceberg of the coming transformation. It will be a revolution in which the cultural lifestyle undergoes radical change. Nancy and I are working on changes in spending, housing, and driving that will dramatically shift our way of life. A transformation in the understanding of simplicity and the good life is the most effective tool we have at our disposal. This transformation will disempower the dysfunctional systems of our culture by removing our participation, energy, and money. Without these, such systems cannot survive.

There is no possibility of return to business as usual. The Tao is leading us into an unknown future, full of peril and possibilities. A new way of life is possible, but not inevitable. The choice is up to us and the future will be based on the decisions we make today. I’m serious. I can’t prescribe exactly what you should do, but you must do something – something radical, courageous, and now! Up the revolution!

Bill

(I use this mailing list only for special mailings. If you would like to follow my blog postings on Taoist Living please use the little envelope icon “follow” to sign up to receive notices when new blogs are posted)

Sample Resources:

The Happy Herbivore

Kaiser Permanente Booklet on Plant-based Diet

A Different Kind of Luxury

12 by 12

Impulse Society

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

I’m learning that creating a simple life requires a lot of patience. Simplicity, I discover, cannot be found in the same energy that fills my current society. It’s not one more thing I need to manufacture or “produce.” It cannot be forced nor can it be a product of impulsive actions. There is the rub: impulsivity cannot produce simplicity. Yet I live within, and am a part of, a society dominated by impulsivity.

The phrase, “Instant gratification takes too long,” used to be a line from a comedy movie. Now it is tragically accurate in its description of the economic and personal habits that keep us from the simplicity for which our souls long. I can understand why we behave impulsively. Buying things and entertaining ourselves are about the only powers we retain. The power of secure employment, effective government, and stable forms of community care have all been taken from us. “Things may be in chaos but I can still buy a smart phone and a flat-screen TV, then post whatever I want on FaceBook, by god!”

Long-term planning seems futile to us. We don’t trust the economy or the government to maintain a sustainable future, so why not “get it now?” In fact, this lack of trust in the future is an essential element in the immediate maximization of profit so vital to today’s corporate world. From a CEO’s point of view, an impulsive consumer is more likely to buy expensive gadgets on credit, thus benefiting both the maker and the financier (often the same entity).

Our tendency toward impulsivity has made the internet what it is today. Impulse purchases are the cornerstone of on-line marketers. “Buy Now” buttons are considered essential, and expensive overnight delivery is becoming more and more popular with consumers. Likewise, we don’t have to wait for our emotions to settle down until we can see clearly before we express ourselves. We can post immediately on FaceBook or Twitter and have instant feedback to our half-formed opinions and feelings. For every post of authentic sharing among family and friends, there are hundreds of rants, pseudo-news reports, diverting videos, useless memes, and the separation of people into “friends” and “not-friends” based on the most superficial of understandings. Our recent travesty of a national election was fueled primarily by FaceBook and Twitter; not at all what the ideals of thoughtful democracy intended.

I do not deny that the internet has a positive element. I live in a rural area where the necessary supplies of our business (hand-bookbinding) are not available. Nancy orders all of her supplies – paper, cloth, pastes, paints, cover boards, brushes, presses, etc. – from dealers who specialize in this particular craft. The ability to browse through hundreds of patterns of Japanese paper to find just the right one for a particular book is a wonderful convenience . Nancy benefits and so do the suppliers such as the man in Petaluma who specializes in inexpensive hand-crafted bookbinding equipment from whom she bought her favorite binding press. We are also distant from our family and from many of our friends so we are grateful for the ability to share photographs, updates, and news with each other in a simple efficient manner. Yet we must not underestimate the downside of a technology and a society that depends upon and fosters impulsivity. How do we manage such massive habituation?

Here are some strategies that make sense to me:

Don’t follow any news sources that have commercial advertisements. The bottom line will always be the advertising dollar. Find a even-handed non-commercial source that provides you with news that is actually helpful and practical for you. Disengage from sound-bite news entirely (regardless of whether or not you agree).
The New York Times published this helpful little piece of advice regarding social media:  Take a moment before you log on to your phone or computer. Evaluate your intentions.  Before posting anything on social media, ask yourself three questions:  Is it true?  Is it kind? Is it necessary?  Post only if the answer to all three is yes.
Another helpful article on Facebook is at this link from Psychology Today
Consider disconnecting cable television altogether and use only DVDs. This will encourage more mindful and less impulsive use of the entertainment we allow to shape our minds.
Never buy something on-line on the day you search for it. Always wait at least a day.

Use the slower method of shipping.
Do not join “clubs” that charge a fee and promise faster shipping and other discount benefits. They are one more proven method to get people to buy impulsively because, “it’s a bargain!”
When you make a purchase make sure and indicate that you do not want to receive promotional material. Unsubscribe from all promotional email.

There are so many subtle influences that undermine our natural patience with a sense of artificial urgency. Be patient with yourself as you watch these habits unfold throughout the day. Ask yourself gently, “Is this really necessary and urgent? What would happen if I waited a day? What would happen if I just didn’t do, read, link, etc. this at all?”

Here’s to our continuing patient movement toward the simple life: for our sake and for the sake of the planet!

Prayer

The Tao fills the universe with Itself.

All that is, is part of It and It cannot lose a single atom of Itself.

Since nothing is outside of It,
It needs no thanks or honor.
It makes no claim of ownership.

It wants nothing from us.
It needs no worship.

No wonder we love it so.

It is our very Self.

From The Tao Te Ching, Chapter 35 – trans. by William Martin in Walking the Tao

On, Saturday, November 26, 2016, Nancy and I spent 30 minutes in prayer. We joined other people from around the world and from many spiritual traditions in a coordinated effort. We all meditated and prayed according to our own understandings along with the indigenous people at Standing Rock. We prayed for their vision of an Earth made whole and an environment healed of the scars of ignorance and greed.

I haven’t prayed for decades. I’ve meditated, mused, thought, hoped, and practiced Qigong but I haven’t prayed. I left prayer behind when I could no longer tolerate the idea of an external separate god to whom I was supposed to pray, to whom I was supposed to give adoration, and of whom I was supposed to ask favors. The relief I felt at surrendering to the mysterious Tao, or “The Way Things Flow,” was so soothing that I have had great resistance at returning to any forms that remind me of those days of wondering how to please and manipulate a desert god who was jealous, fickle, and cruel.

Now, however, I have rediscovered the value of prayer; a Taoist experience of prayer. As Lao-Tzu expressed, the Tao cannot be named or addressed in a personal manner because it is the Mystery of mysteries, the Whole of which I am a part, the Energy that forms and sustains the entire Cosmos. But I am personal. The manifestations of the Tao I call the “world” are personal. The cat purring on my lap is personal and real. The snow falling outside my window is personal and alive. The Tao cannot be addressed, but its myriad forms can certainly be addressed.

What is Taoist prayer like? At the moment my understanding of it is as a, “May I …” rather than a, “Will you…?” The natural virtue of the Tao that flows through me and through all beings, called “Te” by Lao-Tzu, is always available but seldom do I acknowledge its power or seek to align myself with its nature. So my prayers are addressed to the mysterious “Nature of the Te,” and take the loose form of, “May I be aware of and responsible to the Virtue inherent in me and in all beings.” It has much the same quality as some of the prayers from Native American traditions, Sufi traditions, and Buddhist traditions. It does not ask for external changes but seeks internal change.

As I prayed this afternoon I stood by my bedroom window looking out at the snow drifting softly down and the Mountain Quail taking refuge under the tent-like boughs of the fir trees. I was blessed by a visit from a six-point buck who strolled through the back yard just as I began my prayers. I used a basic Qigong form; raising my hands above my head and slowly bringing them down to my heart with my fingertips touching to form an open sphere. While doing this I would invite strength, power, wisdom, and clarity to flow into me. Then I would push my hands outward and down and ask that I might be of service to my community, to the Earth, and to all beings. Next I would bring my palms up again to my heart and hold them there open while inviting the healing energy of the Earth to cleanse my intentions and my wounds that keep me from seeing clearly. Finally I would open my arms and palms down toward the ground and imagine letting go of anything that blocked the flow of Te within and through me. I did this form slowly and simply for 30 minutes.

At the conclusion of this half-hour period, I felt energized, relaxed, and grateful for a more personal connection with Life than I had felt for quite a while. The Tao is mysterious and cannot be anthropomorphized, but human experience of this Mystery is indeed personal and I’m delighted to have recovered a touch of something important that got jumbled up and thrown out with the garbage I jettisoned decades ago.

Blessings to everyone.

Bill

Yin and Yang

We can’t speak of beauty without knowing ugliness.

We can’t speak of virtue without knowing vice.

We can’t speak of life without knowing death.

We cannot achieve without knowing failure.

We cannot find silence without knowing noise.

From The Tao Te Ching, Chapter 2 – trans. William Martin

The above lines from chapter two illustrate the essential duality of life. Everything gives rise to its opposite and nothing can exist separate from this paradox. Yin and Yang are inseparable. One part of Newton’s Law of physics echoes this theme, saying that, “for every force applied, there is an equal and opposite reaction force.”

The shadow side of our culture has been dominant for a long time; decades, perhaps centuries, but it has been well disguised. It has effectively masqueraded as progress, advancement, and freedom all the while being energized by greed, acquisition, oppression, and the plundering of the Earth’s resources. Now we have the opportunity to see the face and shape of this shadow and where our path has been leading us all along. In retrospect, it is no surprise. It is indeed “who we are.”

The blessing of this is that otherwise we would likely have continued to believe the masquerade. Now we have been unmasked and have been given the opportunity to discover what true power, authentic compassion, genuine freedom, and actual justice might be. Notice the Yin/Yang symbol above: In the middle of the greatest width of the dark always dwells the seed of light.

The eternal wheel will continue to turn. We will find the power of wisdom waiting within us as we watch idiocy have its day. We will find that our hearts are truly compassionate as we watch the opposite manifest in government. We will find that freedom will come from a return to community, simplicity, and mutual support rather than force of arms.  And we will begin to live lives of justice in our everyday actions and relationships rather than receive it from our leaders.

Make no mistake. We are in for difficult times because we have all been asleep and waking up is hard to do. Misogyny, ignorance, and bigotry are a real and present part of this shadow. Women and non-white persons are rightfully worried for their safety, their dignity, and their civil rights. We must work together as people, businesses, and communities to insure that everyone is protected, valued, and insured of justice. True science is being framed as “just your opinion.” Literature is being replaced by twitters and tweets. Arts are being dismissed as impractical. Prejudice is replacing wisdom. We must work together to teach our children and ourselves the power of science, literature, the arts, and the wisdom traditions.

Simplify. Open yourself to the needs of others. Cooperate in every way possible in schools and communities. Find new ways of sharing tools and resources, feeding the hungry, housing the homeless, healing the sick. Open your hearts in compassion. Refuse to cooperate with oppressive systems, rules, and attitudes. The wheel will turn so let’s start the momentum going.

Below is just a sample of the thousands of resources, inspiration, and support available to us in these times. I would be interested in knowing others that you have noticed. Let me know and I’ll share them in my next post. (email me at williaminshasta(at)gmail(dot)com)

Blessings to everyone and have a nice Day of Gratitude

Bill

 

Vegetarian Resource Group – I have become convinced that a diet that eliminates or greatly reduces animal products is an essential part of a new society for three primary reasons: compassion, environmental responsibility, and healthcare.

Rob Greenfield – Rob remains an archetypal example for young people. His values, energy, and commitment are the core values of a new society.

Uplift – This site gathers many positive articles from various wisdom traditions (including Taoism!) and is a good antidote to “news.”

Guitars in the Classroom – This organization is just one small example of the ways in which committed groups of ordinary citizens can impact the education of our young. Think of all the ways we might form “…. in the classroom” groups. (Art, science, poetry, woodwork, pottery, etc.)

Insecurity

Hold to your own nature.

A strong wind does not blow all morning.

A cloudburst does not last all day.

The wind and rain are from Heaven and Earth and even these do not last long.

How much less so the efforts of man?

One who lives in accordance with the Truth becomes the embodiment of Tao.

His actions become those of Nature, his ways those of Heaven.

It is through such a one

that Heaven rejoices,

that Earth rejoices,

that all of life rejoices.

The Tao Te Ching, Chapter 23 – trans. Jonathan Star

The vast majority of people who have existed on this small blue dot of a planet have experienced lives filled with uncertainty and insecurity, yet have still managed to create beauty in the midst of ugliness, compassion in the midst of hate, and courage in the midst of fear. My grandparent’s generation saw millions of young men die in the carnage of the trenches of World War I. Half a century earlier their own grandparents watched a civil war tear the country apart. My parent’s generation lived for years not knowing whether or not the darkness of the Third Reich would engulf them. The American Revolution itself turned on a dime and those we call “Founding Fathers” could easily have been hanged as traitors and terrorists and we today might well be, along with Canada, part of the British Commonwealth.

The wonder for me is not the existence of hatred, fear, and intolerance. The wonder I feel is for the existence of compassion, courage, and acceptance in the midst of such primal energies. Armies have marched across continents for millennia and yet people still sat by firesides and told stories, loved one another, and looked up at the night sky in wonder. In fact, the most difficult of times have given birth to the most marvelous lives of courage and resilience. Among the thousands of examples I think of the French Resistance, the German families who hid Jewish families, the Underground Railroad that helped slaves escape to freedom, and the ever-present willingness of many people to share their homes, their food, and their lives with those in need.

In the midst of increasing insecurity I don’t doubt that we will be writing our own stories of courage and compassion. Individually, and in community groups, we will be creating our own versions of sanctuary for ourselves and others. We will be turning our creative attention to mutual support, new forms of community, simple generosity, and the better angels of our humanity. We have been blessed to live in “interesting times.” Let’s make the most of it.

Letting Go

If we hold on to thoughts, judgments, and opinions,

our minds will be cluttered and useless.

If we hold on to possessions,

our minds will contract in fear of loss.

If we hold on to the opinions of others,

our minds will be confused and exhausted.

The only path to a satisfying life

lies in letting go.

The Tao Te Ching, Chapter 9 – trans. William Martin

Holding on, Lao-Tzu seems to say, is the major obstacle to the simplicity we are seeking. When we cling to our possessions, ideas, or opinions we create a corresponding fear of losing them; the fear causes us to cling all the tighter and the increased clinging ratchets up the fear. It is a cycle of suffering that is very difficult to break. By the time we are adults, most of us have this noose of clinging/fear wrapped tight about our mind.

Consider what hanging on does to life. Houses, instead of being simple places of warmth and rest, become vast live-in storage sheds. Minds, instead of being free-flowing perceivers of marvelous Reality, become closets stuffed with fears, desires, and tangled nets of confusing thoughts. The stream of Life becomes a sludge-filled stagnant pond upon which we row around in circles.

Our favorite supermarket is in the town of Yreka, about thirty miles away. We make the trip about once a week, always driving on the old highway which meanders through beautiful ranch country instead of taking the interstate freeway. It is a lovely quiet drive during which we seldom see another vehicle. On my last trip my mind was cluttered with anxious thoughts and fearful scenarios regarding politics – useless thoughts stirred by a brief dip into media. I call the thoughts useless because they had nothing to do with any action I could take or not take to change anything. They were simply clutter. I completed the whole thirty miles without seeing or experiencing a single bit of reality. I pulled into our driveway and realized that my chock-full mind had no room whatsoever for the blessings of the drive.

In retrospect, the Taoist approach to that lost drive to Yreka would not have been to push away the political fears, but to simply let the view of Mount Shasta fill my senses. Then let it slip away and watch the fears return, only to empty back out as the golds, greens, and browns of the countryside flowed in. Soon the expansive reality of the actual here and now of my life would be flowing through unimpeded. My habitual clinging to and ruminating on my thoughts would be replaced by the greater pleasure of being alive in this place at this time.

The same process holds true with the things in my life. Every thing I own takes up a specific amount of physical and psychic space. The questions arise: How much space do I want to devote to storage? How much energy do I want to devote to providing this storage space? What am I missing in the meantime? How is my unconscious and habitual holding on to things creating a blockage that prevents my deeper satisfactions from flowing in?

Clinging impedes the flow of the Tao. The Yin and Yang of the Tao is a constant process which empties in order to fill; then empties once again, to again fill up. However, “trying” to let go is simply another form of clinging; it’s hanging on to the idea of letting go. In my own experience, letting go is not something done by force of will. It usually comes when I have the realization that my holding on is keeping me from something that is important to me; when I wake up to the realization that I can’t have both what I’m clinging to and what is beckoning me forward. It is the classic case of the cake we want to have, yet eat.

Life is meant to be eaten and digested fully, not sealed in a glassed-in case and kept safe for all to admire. Let’s learn to empty out. It is the only path to finding true full-fillment.

Ownership

Within the Tao

all forms come and go.

Holding to the forms,

we suffer great loss.

Holding to the Tao,

we are content and happy.

The forms that come and go

are exciting and compelling,

so we try to grasp them,

keep them, make them endure

and make them work

on our behalf.

We end up exhausted.

The Tao is impossible to grasp,

yet only it can satisfy.

From Tao Te Ching, Chapter 35, translated in “Walking the Tao”  by William Martin

So much of the Tao Te Ching offers me food for thought as I continue to explore the theme of simplicity and the reasons it is so difficult to bring into our lives. Today I am looking at the myth of ownership and the complicated web it weaves in our lives. Nancy and I live at the base of a small wooded hill. All around us is forested land with Pines, Firs, Spruces, Cedars, a few Oaks, and lots of Manzanita growing thick and offering home to countless species of insects, birds, and animals whose names I could not recite (other than the common deer, black bear, hornets, bees, quail, and jays). A combination of trails and dirt roads forms a three mile loop from our front drive that lets us immerse ourselves in this lovely sylvan landscape anytime we feel the urge.

Most of the trail takes us through land that is undoubtedly “owned” by someone, somewhere, but no houses have been built and no improvements have been made or look to be made in the near future. One area, however, off to the left as we skirt the edge of a hillside before descending into a small meadow, has an overgrown rutted remnant of a road that disappears up the side of the hill. About twenty paces up this unused road, nailed to the side of a Cedar, is a sign stating: “Private Property. Keep Out! This means you!”

I often pass this sign without a second thought. Today, however, I stopped and payed attention to the implications that bounced around in my mind. I’ve seen lots of “No Trespassing” signs in my life, usually on fences marking off an industrial area, an abandoned building, or sometimes a warning not to hunt on the property. These warnings make a bit of sense to me. When a sign in the midst of acres and acres of untouched forest shouts “private!” something else is going on. It’s not a “grow” area as we are too close to town to offer shelter to an outdoor marijuana crop, nor does it refer to the prohibition of hunting as again we are too close to town. It seems simply to be the stern statement that, “This is mine! Never mind that no one ever comes to the property, it is still ‘Mine!’ so stay off.” I certainly will honor the intention of the “owner” but the feeling I am left with this morning is one of sadness.

I am not a Communist. The idea of government “ownership” is no more appealing to me than is the idea of private “ownership.” Either is an economic fiction, a mental construction of boundaries imposed for a brief instant of time on a Reality that has no boundaries. We who call ourselves owners are believing a convenient illusion. No one owns land or resources except in the destructive economic fiction of modern society. Huge financial institutions collect vast sums of money from a continuous progression of so-called “owners.” We’re all just passing through and are taking brief responsibility for the territory through which we pass and the things we use. As a current renter, I take that responsibility as seriously as if I were the technical owner and always leave the property cleaner and nicer than I found it.

The Shasta Tribe of Native Americans who once flourished in this area would build villages in a convenient location and inhabit them for a time. When they moved to a new location they left the huts and houses behind, knowing that another group would soon need to move in. The concept of private ownership was unknown to them. The tribe belonged to the land, not the land to the tribe. This is still the fact of our existence, even though we have created the erroneous belief that land belongs to us. This erroneous belief is one of the major complicating factors in our lives, and is leading us in a terribly destructive direction.

I think the reason for my reaction this morning is that such a sign on this beautiful forest trail called forth the images of oil pipelines, tar sands, fracking, private pumping of water into plastic bottles for resale, and the artificial attempt to carve up Wholeness into private parts. Once again, simple enjoyment of the natural resources of life is being complicated by the creation of “mine” and “yours.” Something as natural and exhilarating as a walk in the woods is becoming another commodity that is bought and sold, owned and controlled.

This myth of ownership is yet another strand in the complex web of suffering we have superimposed upon what was meant to be a simple and joyful life. Think of the stress that “ownership” brings to our lives. Do we really need to work so hard to “own” all this stuff? Couldn’t we share at least the lawn mower, snow blower, and an auto or two? I wonder if we might even recover some of the old “hippie commune” energy of my vaguely remembered university days, in a form that would work for those of us who have been so conditioned to be completely isolated and independent in our illusion of ownership?

What are your thoughts?

Stuff

In daily pursuits each day something is added.

In the practice of Tao, each day something is dropped.

Eventually there is nothing left.

No one to do anything.

Nothing to be done.

Yet everything is done smoothly.”

From The Tao Te Ching, Chapter 48 – trans. William Martin

It sometimes seems that life is all about addition, or even multiplication. If one is good, two is better, four is better yet. Accumulation is the name of the game and the winner, of course, is the one with the highest score. Keeping this game alive requires that societies ignore the advice of teachers such as Lao-Tzu, Jesus, and Buddha. Each of these three clearly taught that addition was  the mathematics of unhappiness; and that subtraction was the path to joy. In the above chapter, Lao-Tzu indicates that the goal of life is to end up with “nothing left; no one to do anything; nothing to be done.”

I am encouraged by the popularity today, especially among young people, of the minimalist movement. Environmental concerns, the freedom to work at jobs that have meaning and purpose,  and the desire to avoid massive debts is causing more and more twenty, thirty, and even forty-somethings to radically downsize. Some in this minimalist movement advocate never bringing a possession into your life without letting one move out the other side. As one who has moved residence many times over the years, I can certainly understand the benefit of that approach. I try to live a simple lifestyle, but things kept sneaking in under the radar and pretty soon – here is all that “stuff” again.

The little book, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, by Marie Kondo, offers gentle guidance in this difficult art of letting go. The title and style of the book belie the depth of wisdom it contains. Nancy and I followed the author’s program two years ago and found ourselves ready and able to make some powerful transitions. We are looking forward to going through the process once more and again lightening our life load as we prepare to move to a smaller residence in the spring.

Many of us are holding on to things, “for the sake of the children.” I can appreciate that desire but it is a process fraught with complications. An inheritance, whether it is money, possessions, or both, is the soil in which often grows a tangled vine of conscious and unconscious expectations, resentments, and disappointments. We received a modest inheritance from Nancy’s parents and it proved to be a very mixed bag. Though we appreciated the boost it gave us, we both often feel we would have been freer, happier, and more authentic without it.

I am grateful to my father, who lived very simply though he was a successful pharmacist. When he died he left a tiny rustic cabin to my sister and a small savings account to me. His business affairs were contained in one manila folder and his will was one page long. I have known many who, when facing the probate of their parent’s estate, find themselves faced with rooms full of debris, whatnots, forgotten knickknacks, furniture, books, paper, safe deposit boxes, and bank accounts. Siblings fight for years over property, houses, and heirlooms. Is this really the type legacy we want to create?

Throughout my life, when I have had the resources I have shared them with my children. Why would I want to leave a muddle behind for them to have to sort, move, store, or sell? If there is some thing of mine that they covet, why don’t I let them have it now? However even that seemingly generous impulse needs to be examined, for why impose on them a load I am looking to lay down? Though it may not be the cultural sign of a successful life, I would be satisfied, when my time comes to return to the Mystery of the Tao, if I could look about my environment and feel a sense of, “Nothing left. No one to do anything. Nothing to be done.”

Simplicity is Complicated 2 – The Myth of Improvement

Do you want to improve the world?

I don’t think it can be done.

The world is sacred.

It can’t be improved.

If you tamper with it, you’ll ruin it.

If you treat it like an object, you’ll lose it.

From Tao Te Ching, Chapter 29 – trans. Stephen Mitchell

As I continue to explore the reasons that inhibit our natural simplicity, I find that among the most sacrosanct of cultural truths is the idea that improvement is a good thing. Who could argue? The very definition of improvement is, “to make better.” Actually the root of the word means, “to make a profit from,” which might serve as a bit of a warning to us. In a college economics class I was hammered with the idea that all economics is the process of adding value to some resource and thus generating the mysterious necessity called, “profit.” We are therefore faced with an economy that depends on the “added value” of things that might better be valued simply for what they are.

I live now in a society where our homes, cars, food, water, and even our relationships strive to be “new and improved,” “bigger and better,” and “sexier than the old one.” Lao-Tzu once again slaps me alongside the head with, “you can’t improve the world. If you try, you’ll ruin it.” What? Aren’t we all taught, “you should leave the world a better place than you found it?” But this presupposes that I can make things better by “improving” the world. Herein lies the problem. When I am led to believe that I can, by my actions, “add value” to the world, I must therefore see that world as a commodity. How does one “improve” a commodity? By tinkering with it and making it bigger, faster, more efficient, more desirable, sexier, and more convenient; by refining it, repackaging it, and reselling it.

As I age and finally start to drop away some of my cultural conditioning, I see that new and improved does not mean more useful, that more is not necessarily preferable, and that bigger is not better. The whole concept of improvement has, over the years, isolated me from the pure experience of nature; wind, water, air, forests, cold and heat, winter and summer, seasonal eating, and fireside pleasures. Do these things really need improving?

Making something new can be creative work. Making a process more efficient and less costly can certainly be a helpful act, but we should not assume its benefit without thought as to the implications. The very nature of seduction implies a disregard of consequences. Convenience is a seductive thing and consequences are seldom considered. “Adding value” to some process or product easily becomes the goal that replaces the intrinsic value of the thing or act itself. As Thoreau said in Walden, “They are but improved means to an unimproved end.”

How often have we heard the cry, “New and Improved!” to tout the latest “upgrade” to this or that? As a long-time Apple Computer fan, I feel a growing dismay at the diminished quality of a once simple and usable product. Not only is their hardware is less reliable and durable than it was a few years ago, I am also urged to “upgrade” one application or another almost every week. Each time I succumb to the temptation to “download the new version here,” I find myself with a program that has dropped one or two essential elements I had been using and added some superfluous bells and whistles, reformatted the design, and changed the menu options – all under the masquerade of “improvement.”

Food is no longer the marvelous bounty of the Earth, given to us freely and healthily with a modest amount of labor on our part. It is now a commodity and its “value added” is from refining, enhancing, fortifying, altering, modifying, packaging, and seducing buyers with advertising. Value is also added by producing it in what are essentially “factories” with the cheapest possible labor force and the maximum profit to the factory owners.

How many things do we own that now have a “new and improved” version available that, sooner or later, is going to whisper its seductive, “buy me” in our ear?  So our longing for simplicity meets yet another hurdle. It now must confront the constant barrage of “improvement” that has been unleashed on the world, stealing its simple pleasures, repackaging them, and selling them back to us; then doing it all over again.

So we have “improved” our food, our water, our clothes, our homes, our transportation, our communication, and our weapons. Lao-Tzu warned us more than two millennia ago about “improving the world.” If we truly want to benefit the world and the life within it, let’s dedicate ourselves to the task of becoming more compassionate, patient, and honest human beings, for this is a noble endeavor. But let’s stop  trying to improve the world. That will only lead to its ruin.

Possibilities:

So, how can we improve our ability to let go of the need to improve everything? I offer some thoughts simply as examples. I would be interested in the “improvements” you notice that may be unnecessary, even harmful.

Consider purchasing a refurbished computer or cell phone instead of a new one.
Put as many “plain” or “whole” foods on your shopping list as possible – foods that have as little “value added” as possible in terms of processing, refining, additions, and packaging.
Consider the “basic” versions of appliances and electronics and refuse the upgrades unless absolutely necessary.
Deliberately choose a bit of discomfort and/or inconvenience now and then in some everyday task – washing the dishes by hand instead of using the dishwasher; dressing a bit cooler or warmer than usual just to feel the temperature; parking farther away from your destination than usual; calling or writing a letter rather than texting.
Most importantly, be aware of the seductive nature of “improvement.” If you pay attention, you’ll notice its subtle influence in countless places, adding yet another needless layer of complication to the life we secretly long to be simple.