Tag Archives: insight

“Tao Teh Ching: Chapter 38” by Lao Tzu

1579 drawing of the Great Chain of Being from Didacus Valades

High Virtue is non-virtuous;
Therefore it has Virtue.
Low Virtue never frees itself from virtuousness;
Therefore it has no Virtue.

High Virtue makes no fuss and has no private ends to serve:
Low Virtue not only fusses but has private ends to serve.

High humanity fusses but has no private ends to serve:
High morality not only fusses but has private ends to serve.
High ceremony fusses but finds no response;
Then it tries to enforce itself with rolled-up sleeves.

Failing Tao, man resorts to Virtue.
Failing Virtue, man resorts to humanity.
Failing humanity, man resorts to morality.
Failing morality, man resorts to ceremony.
Now, ceremony is the merest husk of faith and loyalty;
It is the beginning of all confusion and disorder.

As to foreknowledge, it is only the flower of Tao,
And the beginning of folly.

Therefore, the full-grown man sets his heart upon the substance rather than the husk;
Upon the fruit rather than the flower.
Truly, he prefers what is within to what is without.

This is an extremely challenging passage, and I can only interpret it based upon other mystic/occult ideologies with which I am somewhat familiar. Specifically, I see this as a parallel with the concept of emanation as put forth by Plotinus.

Emanationism is an idea in the cosmology or cosmogony of certain religious or philosophical systems. Emanation, from the Latin emanare meaning “to flow from” or “to pour forth or out of”, is the mode by which all things are derived from the first reality, or principle. All things are derived from the first reality or perfect God by steps of degradation to lesser degrees of the first reality or God, and at every step the emanating beings are less pure, less perfect, less divine.

(Source: Wikipedia)

So in emanationism, the Divine One is in the center of all existence, and then there are series of emanations moving away from the source, each being less divine than the previous. I see Lao Tzu’s example as being similar: the Tao is the divine center, and all other virtuous forms that emanate out are less and less like the Tao, until we get to the point where there is nothing but a shell of what was once the Tao.

If this is the case, we can use this hierarchy as a map to get back to the Tao, or center. If we begin by practicing ceremony, we may attain morality. If we continue living moral lives, then we may reach humanity. Once humanity is incorporated, we can work towards gaining Virtue. Finally, as we reach the state of High Virtue, we can step across the threshold to the Tao.

This is some very heady stuff, and I again emphasize that this is only my interpretation. For me, it makes sense, but I am open. If you have other insights into this passage, I would love to hear them. Feel free to share your thoughts in the Comments section below.

Blessings, and thanks for stopping by.

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“Tao Teh Ching: Chapter 37” by Lao Tzu

Tao never makes any ado,
And yet it does everything.
If a ruler can cling to it,
All things will grow of themselves.
When they have grown and tend to make a stir,
It is time to keep them in their place by the aid of the nameless Primal Simplicity,
Which alone can curb the desires of men.
When the desires of men are curbed, there will be peace,
And the world will settle down of its own accord.

Wow! When I read this passage this morning, I was struck by how pertinent it is to our current paradigm. Our reality is dominated by complexity, the antithesis of simplicity. This global complexity only serves to fuel desire: desire for more wealth, desire for newest technology, even, ironically, the desire for simplicity.

How can we escape this situation and return to Primal Simplicity? I don’t think there is a simple answer. Complex problems require complex solutions. For myself, I have been meditating regularly, trying to live consciously and scale back, and minimizing my exposure to news hype and social media. Another thing I have been attempting to incorporate into my life is something I heard Anderson Cooper talking about on the 10% Happier podcast. Cooper said he has stopped multitasking and instead practices “monotasking.” It was so counterintuitive to the dominant thought of most people, myself included at the time, that it struck me as the obvious slapping me in the face. We think that multitasking will help us manage our time more efficiently, but it doesn’t. It only adds to the complexity that is overwhelming our society and our selves. We can all stand to simplify.

I am getting ready to go out for breakfast with my family. I will not look at my smartphone during that time. I will simply sit, eat, and share time with the people I love.

Thanks for stopping by, and please feel free to share any suggestions you have on how to move closer to simplicity.

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“Tao Teh Ching: Chapter 36” by Lao Tzu

What is in the end to be shrunken,
Begins by being first stretched out.
What is in the end to be weakened,
Begins by being first made strong.
What is in the end to be thrown down,
Begins by being first set on high.
What is in the end to be despoiled,
Begins by being first richly endowed.

Herein is the subtle wisdom of life:
The soft and weak overcomes the hard and strong.

Just as the fish must not leave the deeps,
So the ruler must not display his weapons.

On the surface, this appears to be a very simple passage. The implication is that the firm will eventually yield to the subtle, which is a common metaphor in the Tao Teh Ching. Visualize the stream eventually carving out a canyon through the rock. But as I sat and contemplated this passage, a deeper meaning made itself apparent to me.

I started envisioning the examples Lao Tzu presents in the reverse; for example, “What is in the end made strong, begins by first being weak.” The truth remains the same for every reversed example. I began to see this passage more as an acknowledgment of the continuity of change, of the eternal cycles inherent in all areas of existence. The weak becomes strong, then becomes weak again, and continues. Life leads to death, which leads again to new life. For me, this is the hidden wisdom within this passage.

That’s all I will share about this verse, but I encourage you to read it again and sit and contemplate it.

Thanks for stopping by, and have an inspired day.

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“A Path with Heart” by Jack Kornfield

I recently attended a party at my friend Sonia’s house, and she had a copy of this book on her living room table. Since I am ever fascinated with books and which ones my friends are reading, I picked it up and scanned it quickly. I immediately realized that it was a book I needed to read, so on my next trip to the bookstore, I purchased a copy.

The book is essentially a how-to guide for meditators, offering practical suggestions for how to develop your practice and address certain challenges that may arise. In addition to being insightful and helpful, it is extremely well-written. Jack weaves in wonderful stories to elaborate upon his ideas, and does so in a style that is engaging and never dull.

There is a wealth of rich material in this book, and if you are interested in meditation, I encourage you to read it. But I would like to share a few passages that really resonated with me.

The first passage I would like to share concerns the pitfall of dramatic spiritual experiences.

The dazzling effect of lights and visions, the powerful releases of rapture and energy, all are a wonderful sign of the breakdown of the old and small structures of our being, body, and mind. However, they do not in themselves produce wisdom. Some people have had many of these experiences, yet learned very little. Even great openings of the heart, kundalini processes, and visions can turn into spiritual pride or become old memories. As with a near-death experience or a car accident, some people will change a great deal and others will return to old constricted habits shortly thereafter. Spiritual experiences in themselves do not count for much. What matters is that we integrate and learn from the process.

(p. 129)

I have had a fair amount of powerful and profound spiritual experiences, and I confess in my younger days they lured me into complacency, as well as down some less-than-wholesome paths. But it was all a learning process that brought me to the place I am today. I now try (yes, I only try) to practice humility as I progress along the path, and I am searching for ways to incorporate what I learn from my spiritual practice into my daily life. Because, really, all we have is this moment and we need to be the best we can be right here and right now.

These are extraordinary times for a spiritual seeker. Modern spiritual bookstores bulge with texts of Christian, Jewish, Sufi, and Hindu mystical practices.

(p. 157)

How true! And this does not even consider the wealth of digital texts available through online libraries. Rare texts that were once only available to academics and clergy are now readily available to those who seek the wisdom and insight. I have often pondered why I was fortunate enough to make it through the difficult stages of my life, especially when I saw many of my friends suffer an early demise. I can only assume that I was meant to be here, to explore the vast abundance of spiritual wisdom that is now a click or purchase away. It is certainly a great time to be alive, in spite of all the obvious social and environmental challenges that we face.

And with that, I would like to close with a quote that succinctly sums up the power of spiritual practice.

Spiritual practice is revolutionary. It allows us to step outside the limited view of personal identity, of culture, and of religion and experience more directly the great mystery of life, the great music of life.

(p. 325)

Yes, I believe that the next human revolution (or evolution) will be one of the spirit. Our species cannot survive unless we let go of our fear, our greed, and our hatred, and instead embrace and nurture that which we all share—the spark of the divine which exists within each and every one of us.

Thanks for taking the time to share my thoughts. I hope you found them inspiring.

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“Tao Teh Ching: Chapter 35” by Lao Tzu

He who holds the Great Symbol will attract all things to him.
They flock to him and receive no harm, for in him they find peace, security and happiness.

Music and dainty dishes can only make a passing guest pause.
But the words of Tao possess lasting effects,
Though they are mild and flavourless,
Though they appeal neither to the eye nor to the ear.

This passage is a wonderful example of the beauty of this text. Lau Tzu expresses a wealth of wisdom in a mere six lines.

In the first stanza, we are presented with a leader who has incorporated balance into his life. The Great Symbol is the yin and yang, representing the balance of opposing energies and ideas. Because this ideal leader embodies balance, people feel comfortable and safe around the leader. They know that this person will govern from a place of fairness and not from ego or the desire for power.

In the second stanza, Lau Tzu uses “music and dainty dishes” as a metaphor for lavish entertainment intended to distract individuals from what is truly important. Truth and wisdom are often less enchanting to the casual observer, but this is the place from where lasting goodness and compassion spring. Sound and steady guidance may be less appealing to the eye or ear, but it is much more appealing to the heart and spirit.

While this passage was intended as guidance for a leader, on a personal level I find it applies to my own spiritual path. It is easy to be dazzled by transcendent visions, or ecstatic states of consciousness, but these can often distract a seeker from the path to wisdom and enlightenment. It is the steady practice of meditation, of incorporating spiritual values into everyday life, that will ultimately bring you the greatest spiritual growth. I have had some intense spiritual experiences in my life, but I try not to focus on recapturing those states. Instead, I do the less appealing spiritual work: study, meditation, self examination, and so forth. I see this passage as an affirmation of the path I am on.

Thanks for sharing in my musings. I would love to hear your thoughts on this passage. Feel free to post in the comments section below. Cheers!

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“Tao Teh Ching: Chapter 34” by Lao Tzu

Image Source: Wikipedia

The Great Tao is universal like a flood.
How can it be turned to the right or to the left?

All creatures depend on it,
And it denies nothing to anyone.

It does its work,
But it makes no claims for itself.

It clothes and feeds all,
But it does not lord it over them:
Thus, it may be called “the Little.”

All things return to it as to their home,
But it does not lord it over them:
Thus, it may be called “the Great.”

It is just because it does not wish to be great
That its greatness is fully realised.

As I read this passage and contemplated it, I got the sense of the Tao as both the source and the destination. Consider the metaphor that Lao Tzu uses of the flood. All water has the ocean as its source, and all water eventually flows back to the ocean. It is the same with the spirit. All spirits have the Divine as their source, and all spirits return to the Divine. And just as a flood can be both destructive and nourishing, so can the human soul be destructive and nourishing. But ultimately, it is all part of the same flow.

I frequently need to remind myself that there is always a balance between the positive and the negative. So much attention is focused on the negative that it is easy to overlook the fact that there is exactly the same amount of positive in the universe. One can never exceed the other. It then just becomes a question of where do we want to focus our attention. For me, I try to just acknowledge the negative while focusing on the positive. That seems to work best in managing the broad swings of the pendulum.

Thanks for taking the time to read my musings, and I hope you have a blessed day.

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“Tao Teh Ching: Chapter 33” by Lao Tzu

He who knows men is clever;
He who knows himself has insight.
He who conquers men has force;
He who conquers himself is truly strong.

He who knows when he has got enough is rich,
And he who adheres assiduously to the path of Tao is a man of steady purpose.
He who stays where he has found his true home endures long,
And he who dies but perishes not enjoys real longevity.

This is one of those passages where every word resonates with truth. I read this short section three times and found it so perfect in its brevity and wisdom.

The second line really made me think about the word “insight” in a way I never really did before. To have insight is to see beneath the surface, to peer deep within yourself, and grasp the true nature of your being. To have real insight is a tremendous accomplishment. I feel like this word has become trivialized through overuse. If you stop and think about it, very few individuals gain a deep understanding of themselves, hence very few of us ever gains true insight.

The first line of the second stanza also struck me as profoundly true: “He who knows when he has got enough is rich.” We westerners, ensconced in our consumer society, never seem to feel we have enough. There is always something else to strive for, something better which we desire. But how much material stuff do we need, and is real wealth measured by how much stuff or money you have? I suspect that to be rich in the way Lao Tzu is describing is to be content with having your necessities met, and being fulfilled spiritually.

Finally, I thought about the last line a lot. What does it mean to die, but not perish? At first I considered that it may mean becoming one with the divine source after leaving this mortal world. And this is still a valid interpretation. But then I wondered if death here symbolizes something else, something that is connected with the rest of the passage. I began to suspect that maybe to die, as Lao Tzu suggests in this passage, means to end the constant materialistic striving which defines the lives of so many of us. Maybe dying is letting go of our grip on the material world and embracing the spiritual. Doing so will fill us with wisdom, a treasure which remains with us after we free ourselves from the body.

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