Active Quietism

Sitting still allows us to notice the subtle stirrings of the mind.

Small thoughts that lead to suffering are seen early and easily set aside.

Since trouble begins in the mind,we watch the mind with care and trouble is stopped before it begins.

This practice seems so passive and still.

Yet it is the seedling

from which the great tree grows.

It is the single step

that begins the journey of a thousand miles.

If we hurry or force our practice, it slips away from us.

We release ideas

of success and failure.

We patiently take the next necessary step

and everything unfolds as it should.

We lay down our wanting

and pick up our contentment.

We lay down our conditioning

and pick up our true nature.

We gently help all beings everywhere return to their true nature.

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

The Tao Te Ching, with its deep understanding of the energy of Yin and Yang together, presents a revolutionary message — a culture changing message —  in the subtle form of “active quietism.” Its author, the legendary Chinese sage, Lao-Tzu, is often called the “father of quietism” for his emphasis on cooperation with the flow of the Tao rather than imposition of our own agendas upon it. However, each poetic chapter of his classic little book contains a seed, which if germinated, would transform society.

A quietist accepts the world as he finds it, understanding that the complex dynamics of life are not under his control. He does not seek to fix it according to his own agendas not impose upon it his own standards. The activist sees certain aspects of society to be unacceptable and seeks to make changes in these aspects through direct or indirect action. His actions may arise from compassion or simply from anger and frustration. The Tao Te Ching combines the two stances; accepting the world as it is in the moment without seeking to lay blame, argue, or instill hate; and at the same time letting a natural willingness arise to take energetic and focused action at the appropriate time and in the appropriate manner in order to be a part of the natural flow, change, and balance of the Tao.

The quiet activist acts, but does not argue, does not blame, and does not hate; neither does he stop trying to make his actions congruent with his inner convictions and growing understandings of the way life flows. He seeks first of all to align his own life with his convictions before he seeks to impose any change upon the outer world. This is the very heart of Taoist activism and requires courage, sacrifice, and soul-searching honesty. Perhaps I am misquoting this anecdote, but once a mother asked Gandhi to tell her young son to stop eating so much sugar. Gandhi told the mother, “come back in two weeks.” The mother was puzzled, but did as the Mahatma instructed. Two weeks later the mother arrived with her son and Gandhi sat with the boy and told him that it would be best if he stopped eating so much sugar; that it was bad for his health. The mother asked him, “Why didn’t you just say that two weeks ago?” Gandhi replied, “Two weeks ago I was eating too much sugar.” Gandhi embodied the active quietist.

I’m not interested in being a Gandhi. I am very interested in making the Tao a more vital and transformative part of my life. I believe a cultural revolution is necessary and inevitable, and that it will gather its energy from the transformation of individual lives. This leads me to the uncomfortable realization that my many opinions about the ills of society remain separated from the moment-by-moment ways I go about my life. In turn, this leads me to the question of, “What action can I take today, in this moment, to nudge my living more and more into alignment with my deepest understandings?”

“Non-cooperation” is a term Gandhi used to describe a complete boycott of British rule by the Indian people – British goods, British jobs, British schools, British courts, and British honors. It required discipline, sacrifice, and renunciation. I am drawn to the concept of non-cooperation, but in my culture it is a terrifyingly complex subject. I am caught in a spider web of interconnected habits, artificial needs, real needs, and an economy that is dominated by large and powerful institutions. How do I go about not cooperating? First, I must realize that I cannot completely withdraw my cooperation. I drive an automobile. I heat my house with kerosene. I pay taxes to support a government whose policies bring me dismay and embarrassment.

So, I do the best I can. I observe “no driving” days as often as I can. I pay the extra expense to heat with local forest wood as much as I can. I buy from local health food stores as much as possible and I buy brands that are as healthy and sustainable as possible. Nancy and I have shifted our eating habits to a plant-based diet that ends our participation in the meat industry; an industry I consider to be one of the most environmentally destructive and unhealthy industries in existence. I do not have a television nor an internet connection in my home. This enables me to greatly lessen my participation in the cultural myths and illusions that fill the ether. Each day I consider the question: “Has it come time to take another small step away from my comfortable complicity with my culture?”

I am stuck with what feel like imperfect responses. I value my comfort and convenience and undoubtedly rationalize dozens of habits that perpetuate a system I know is destroying the world. Still, I am going to do the best I can in the present moment, and remain open to more radical actions and changes as they arise. That is all that I can do. That is all any of us can do. And these efforts will be our best contribution to the growing momentum of revolution that will heal our world.