Thoughts on the Tao Te Ching 26

Poem 26

The heavy is the root of the light.

The unmoved is the source of all movement.

Thus the Master travels all day

without leaving home.

However splendid the views,

she stays serenely in herself.

Why should the lord of the country

flit about like a fool?

If you let yourself be blown to and fro,

you lose touch with your root.

If you let restlessness move you,

you lose touch with who you are.

Rocks on Donabate Beach

Commentary

As we have outlined many times before in these pages, spiritual writers like to proceed by way of pardox, by setting up contradictions to make the reader or aspiring disciple think, ponder, meditate and contemplate.  Spirituality engages all faculties, not just that of the intellect.  It takes into account all the dimensions of the human being - intellect, heart, feelings, the unconscious, the non-rational and the irrational at times.  The last two lines make me ponder and wonder and they are worth re-quoting even at this close juncture to their former mention:

If you let restlessness move you,

you lose touch with who you are

These lines in the third stanza of the 26th poem brings the early philosopher and theologian St Augustine of Hippo to my mind.  Augustine (354 - 430 A.D.) often described himself as a restless seeker more so than a systematic and profound thinker.  He tells us in his Confessions that he restlessly sought out the truth (or the Good or God) behind the so-called world of the senses.  He declared that he had sought God everywhere, in his many travels around the then known world and in his relationships - some of them failures in worldly terms - and studies.  He tells us that he finally found God in the stillness of his own heart - within himself rather than in the world without. Those Augustinian thoughts seem to contradict outright what the Taoist poet is getting at. Once again, the contradiction is only apparent at one level.  I constantly refer to the predilection of spiritual writers with the healthy tension of opposites.  We have it here, both in Augustine and the Taoist poet. Augustine realised finally that truth or the Good or God could really only be found within his inner self, or heart or soul. So restlessness led Augustine to find rest for his weary soul within his own soul or heart through prayer of meditation, a process of contemplation or meditation he called "interiority" or the "interior way."  In this sense, he is actually in agreement with the Taoist author.

Icon of St Augustine of Hippo

In ways, even if we do not travel in a physical sense, we can travel in our inner selves or minds.  If we are seekers of peace, we shall certainly only find it within ourselves after much meditation and facing and integrating our own individual shadow as Carl Gustav Jung recommends. 

If we are overwhelmed by the weather, it is often good to recall that it is the inner weather of our minds that is the most important thing in anyone's life.  Then, no matter where we go, we will not need to complain about the outer weather.  A good traveller is one who is "at home" in his or her own mind, comfortable with themselves, happy with the lives with which they have been gifted.  In this sense, then, a good traveller never gets homesick.  Let us now add to the above paradoxes by suggesting that a person who stays at home because of some anxiety or depression or other mental problem can be a very restless traveller in his/her own mind.  In fact, they simply are not "at home" with themselves - and this is a very painful mental disequilibrium.

Once again, I invite any reader of the above lines to read over the above Taoist poem and let a word, phrase or line vibrate like a mantra in their minds for at least five minutes of peace and restfulness. 

Thoughts on the Tao Te ching 25

Poem 25

There was something formless and perfect

before the universe was born.

It is serene. Empty.

Solitary. Unchanging.

Infinite. Eternally present.

It is the mother of the universe.

For lack of a better name,

I call it the Tao.

It flows through all things,

inside and outside, and returns

to the origin of all things.

The Tao is great.

The universe is great.

Earth is great.

Man is great.

These are the four great powers.

Man follows the earth.

Earth follows the universe.

The universe follows the Tao.

The Tao follows only itself.

Commentary

Who knows what came before the beginning of the universe?  In these big questions theoretical physics, philosophical theology and spirituality-meditation are paradoxically similar or parallel.  In psalm 110 we read:

A prince from the day of your birth 

on the holy mountains;
from the womb before the dawn I begot you.

According to Christian tradition this psalm foretells the birth of Jesus which, according to the psalmist, was preordained from before the beginning of the universe or from before the initiation of time.  In other words, this psalm like the Taoist poem attempts to describe the mystery of the origins of the universe.  The Taoism poet puts it in equally paradoxical and poetic terms:

There was something formless and perfect

before the universe was born.

Alexander Vilenkin contends that the Big Bang wasn't a one-off event, but merely one of a series of big bangs creating an endless number of bubble universes.  In this model, there is neither a single Big Bang nor a single beginning.  Instead the universe continually goes through oscillating cycles of expansion, contraction, collapse and expansion anew. (See HERE) 

Of the above three accounts, one could contend that The Taoist poet offers us a Taoist take or Taoist myth of creation; that the Biblical author offers us a Jewish take or Jewish myth of creation and finally that Alexander Vilenkin offers us a scientific take or scientific myth of creation.  Here, obviously, I am using myth in a particular sense and certainly not in its usual sense of an unfounded or false notion or contention.  I am using the word "myth" in the sense that humankind always needs to propose a meaning and an explanation for the existence of the world in which he lives as well as a meaning for his own life.  Fair enough, the first two accounts may be pre-scientific, allegorical or metaphorical or even literal efforts at explaining existence in ancient times - however, they are legitimate efforts even if somewhat fanciful.  I use the term "scientific myth" in a similar way, that is, as a modern presentation of the meaning and significance of life in the twenty-first century which will itself appear more than a little pre-scientific to thirtieth century humankind.  Myth for me represents any valid and authentic attempt at explaining the meaning of life in any particular culture at any particular time, in any particular context.  Now re-read the first stanza of our Taoist poem above. 

There was something formless and perfect

before the universe was born.

It is serene. Empty.

Solitary. Unchanging.

Infinite. Eternally present.

It is the mother of the universe.

For lack of a better name,
I call it the Tao.

One of the best attempts to link theoretical physics and spirituality/meditation is surely that of Dr Fritjof Capra's classic The Tao of Physics (1975) wherein Dr Capra argued that Theoretical Physics could be reconciled with Eastern Mysticism.  Near the end of this book, the author summed up his motivation in the following words: "Science does not need mysticism and mysticism does not need science, but man needs both."

The interpretation of a literary text is a complex process that involves much learning and not a little intuition.  A good reader of a text is aware of its many layers: literal, allegorical, metaphorical, poetic, aesthetic, historical, linguistic and structural and so on and so forth.  It is when the reader insists on reading the text at any one level solely that problems emerge.  As we have seen from the recent horrific massacres wrought by a fundamentalism of one kind, literalism can lead to sheer terrorism. Needless to say, fundamentalism in "-isms" of all kinds from fascism to communism to scientism can and will lead to the same bloody conclusion.

Finally, let us read the above poem reflectively letting a word or phrase suggest itself to us as a mantra for a five or ten minutes reflection.

Namaste, friends. 

Thoughts on the Tao te Ching 24

Poem 24

He who stands on tiptoe

doesn't stand firm.

He who rushes ahead

doesn't go far.

He who tries to shine

dims his own light.

He who defines himself

can't know who he really is.

He who has power over others

can't empower himself.

He who clings to his work

will create nothing that endures.

If you want to accord with the Tao,

just do your job, then let go.

Commentary

Deepak Chopra: Author, Spiritual Guide, Medical Doctor

Wisdom is bought at a high price - the price of experience.  We all essentially learn the hard way. How often have we heard our elders say that they went to the "school of hard knocks!"  One of my special needs students said the following the other day:  "Life does not get any easier; you just have to learn to laugh harder!"  Pure wisdom, that! The poetry, whether of the Psalms in the Old Testament or the poems in the Tao Te Ching, attempts to capture some wisdom by sheer dint of paradox or seeming contradiction; by setting up polar opposites; by stretching language to its breaking point.

Sometimes when we try too hard we don't achieve the results we want at all.  It's as if the ego gets in its own way and trips itself up.  The ego stretches itself up on tippy toes in a vain effort to see what's going on.  However, on a physical level, as we know, we are only able to maintain our bodies on tippy toes -  in such a stretched mode - for literally several moments as we strain say to look over a high fence.  On tippy toes we simply cannot stand firm. Anyone who runs or jogs will know that such exercise needs to be paced properly.  If the runner or jogger sets out on their chosen route at far too quick a pace. he will not be able to complete it in the proper time or indeed in the proper state of well-being.  Hence, the lapidary piece of wisdom in the above poem: "He who rushes ahead doesn't go far!"  I remember an old teacher I had at school used often say: "The longest way round is often the shortest way home!"  Why?  Well, the longest way round might not have as many obstacles as the shortest way!!

  

Clinical psychologist, Psychotherapist Dr Carl Rogers

I simply love the line: "He who tries to shine dims his own light."  Again, it appears to this reader and meditator that this is all about our ego getting in the way of the wisdom that naturally lives in our True Self (Deepak Chopra) or Real Self (Carl Ransom Rogers), in our Soul (religion/spirituality) or in our Heart of Hearts (traditional phrase meaning inner and true feelings).  It is so obvious when people are boasting of their abilities or attempting to get "one up" on us (one upmanship) or pretending to be something they are not.  Likewise, any person who thinks he can define himself clinically or precisely is simply deluded.  Just as the author puts it, this person "cannot know who he really is."  There is a mystery that lies at the heart of us all and we only gradually get to know that mystery.  Indeed, I believe we cannot really comprehend, apprehend or grasp that mystery in its entirety or fullness.  However, we do get glimpses of our True Self.

Then we come to one of the most corrupt impulses of the ego, namely the drive for power.  Persons who do not know themselves properly, or who have failed, as Carl Jung puts it, to properly integrate their shadow nature, all project their worst fears and hatreds onto others.  Hence we get breakdowns in the various relationships between husbands and wives, managers and staff, leaders and teams and indeed between different states.  When people exercise power over others in this egoic way they actually have failed to empower themselves to simply be their truest selves.  Likewise, if we cling to our work in an effort to gain some identity, we set up a state of dependence on our workaday activity to give us a sense of our true self and such a state of dependence only leads to a false sense of self!

Letting go is the answer, and indeed it is the answer given by all religious and spiritual traditions. What are we asked to let go of?  We are asked to let go of our Ego, of our desires to cling to sensual pleasures, to cling to others, to cling to ideas, to cling to our partners, to cling to our jobs, to cling to our pride, to cling to all false ideas of who we are.  We are asked, in short, to let go of the False Self and embrace our True Self.  This is not easily done, but by constant practice of meditation and other spiritual acts like writing, composing poems or music, sculpting, pottery making and so on and so forth, we gradually chip away at our masks and bit by bit expose our True Self to the light of our consciousness.  Indeed, none of us ever gets there.  Rather like the asymptote we only get there way out at infinity.

Example of two asymptotes: horizontal and vertical

Conclusion:

Once again, perhaps some word, phrase or clause in above poem strikes a chord with you.  If so why not use it as a mantra for a short meditative practice for five or ten minutes.  Namaste, my friends.

Thoughts on the Tao Te Ching 23

Stanza 23

Express yourself completely,
then keep quiet.
Be like the forces of nature:
when it blows, there is only wind;
when it rains, there is only rain;
when the clouds pass, the sun shines through.

If you open yourself to the Tao,
you are at one with the Tao
and you can embody it completely.
If you open yourself to insight,
you are at one with insight
and you can use it completely.
If you open yourself to loss,
you are at one with loss
and you can accept it completely.

Open yourself to the Tao,
then trust your natural responses;
and everything will fall into place.

The good old worker bee,  I took this photograph in 2010

Commentary

The above poem is essentially about the twin skills of openness and listening.  Both these skills lie at the heart of the practice of meditation.  When we sit to meditate we firstly relax our bodies and de-stress it bit by bit.  Then we concentrate on the rhythm of our breath as it oxygenates our body and expels carbon dioxide through our nostrils - that basic process physiologists and biologists call respiration.  In meditation circles we call the attention to our respiratory apparatus simply "the act of returning to or paying close attention to the breath." This simple act is one of sheer receptivity to the breath that keeps our very body alive in this moment in time.  In holistic practices like that of Focusing, invented by Dr. Eugene Gendlin the person engaged in the process focuses on the "felt sense" of some problem,  Essentially focusing like mindfulness uses those skills used for thousands of years by the different masters and practitioners of meditation in the various religious traditions.  

The sand on Donabate Beach, 2013

In focusing one is literally listening to how we hold certain feelings in our bodies.  I would argue that meditators actually do that very naturally anyway.  It is also my contention that mindfulness is secular meditation and that modern authors who peddle their wares in the form of books, CDs and DVDs on mindfulness stole the clothes of the traditional meditators, but that is a story for a different post than this one.

Another major theme in the above poem is that of self-expression.  Such expression can be done in many creative ways: in art of all kinds, in literature, in poems, in music, in dance, in mime and in sculpture and architecture and so on.  Then, once one has expressed how one feels, the author recommends that we learn to keep quiet.  This is good wisdom as we must for sure express all our emotions, especially negative ones as unexpressed feelings will eat and gnaw away at us forever until they are given expression through one medium or another,  However, there is nothing worst than someone who continually repeats the same old moan and never has the courage to do anything about it.  Such is not what our Taoist writer has in mind.  He (or she) sees the expression of feelings as being therapeutic once expressed.  In this way, the person gets whatever is weighing them down or even lifting them up off their minds.

The second stanza sings the praises of openness which it also sees as essentially healing and therapeutic.  Such openness allows us to feel empathy with our inner self, with others and indeed with the source of all life which some of us dare call God.  Interestingly, the poet recommends that we be open both to negative and positive experiences: On the one hand we can be open to the positive experience of insight and by being so open we become one with it.  On the other hand, we can be open to the negative experience of loss and in so doing becoming one with loss.  Such an openness paradoxically helps us accept that loss and learn to live with it from day to day.  In short, such openness allows the human spirit to heal.

The author invites us in essence to open ourselves to the Tao and in so doing we open ourselves to the healing powers of the universe.  The final stanza works like a chorus and is worth repeating as it is really a summary of the whole poem:

Open yourself to the Tao,
then trust your natural responses;
and everything will fall into place.

In conclusion, some word or phrase or line may suggest itself as a matra for meditation or as a thought to inspire a short period of contemplation.  I wish the reader of these few words peace and happiness in the now of experience.  Namaste, friends!

Thoughts on the Tao Te Ching 22

Stanza 22

If you want to become whole,

let yourself be partial.

If you want to become straight,

let yourself be crooked.

If you want to become full,

let yourself be empty.

If you want to be reborn,

let yourself die.

If you want to be given everything,

give everything up.

The Master, by residing in the Tao,

sets an example for all beings.

Because he doesn't display himself,

people can see his light.

Because he has nothing to prove,

people can trust his words.

Because he doesn't know who he is,

people recognize themselves in him.

Because he has no goad in mind,

everything he does succeeds.

When the ancient Masters said,

"If you want to be given everything,

give everything up,"

they weren't using empty phrases.

Only in being lived by the Tao can you be truly yourself.

My father's headstone in Fingal Cemetery, Balgriffin

Commentary

It is difficult to avoid repetition in these short commentaries because like most poetic and spiritual texts there is much recapitulation in the Tao Te Ching. Once, when the modernist poet T.S. Eliot was asked to comment on his constant repetition of several themes, he replied that while he may have re-iterated those topics he never recorded them in the same way.  There is much wisdom in Eliot's words as one can approach a theme from many different angles and give different perspectives on the one subject.  In that sense, one is never, as such, engaging in a boring repetition.  In fact, you are adding to the theme's nuances and resonances, to its denotations and connotations.

Again, the author engages in making lists of opposites:

• partial vs whole
• crooked vs straight
• empty vs full
• birth vs death
• receiving vs giving
• showing vs hiding
• self-denial vs self-indulgence

and so on.  Once again, it is in the tension of opposites that truth lies.  This is a deep wisdom because there is no such thing as either extreme on its own.  It would seem that most realities contain some of both polarities.  In other words, to cite a simple polarity by way of illustration: how can be know what dark is if we don't know what light is and vice versa?

There are also parallels in the above stanza to certain verses from the New Testament, e.g., the statement by Jesus that " whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.  For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?" corresponds to the verse in the above Taoist stanza that runs: "If you want to be reborn, let yourself die."

Identity of the self comes through finding oneself by living in the Tao.

By way of conclusion, once more, perhaps there is a word, a phrase or a line that catches your attention.  Repeat that quotation as a mantra for a short meditation.

NAMASTE

Thoughts on the Tao Te Ching 21

Poem 21

The Master keeps her mind

always at one with the Tao;

that's what gives her her radiance.

The Tao is ungraspable.

How can her mind be at one with it?

Because she does not cling to ideas.

The Tao is dark and unfathomable.

How can it make her radiant?

Because she lets it.

Since before time and space were,

the Tao is, 

It is beyond is and is not.

How do I know this is true?

I look inside myself and see.

Commentary

The Yin Yang is perhaps one of the most known of the symbols of Taoism.  It is a symbol made up of two halves that together make wholeness. Yin and Yang are also the starting point for change. When something is whole, by definition it is unchanging and complete. So when you split something into two halves – into its Yin  and its Yang, it upsets the equilibrium of wholeness. This starts both halves chasing after each other as they seek a new balance with each other. As you will notice from the diagrammatic representation of this symbol one half of the circle is white (or Yin = masculine, logic, head and so forth) with a small black dot (that is a small amount of the Yang = feminine, feelings, heart and so on); the other half is black or dark (or Yang = feminine, feelings, heart and so on) with a small white dot (that is a small amount of Yin = masculine, logic, head and so forth).  It is interesting to note that the word "Yin" comes out to mean the “shady side” or mysterious side of something like the dark side of the moon and Yang “sunny side” or bright side of something.  

It is also worth noting that neither Yin nor Yang are absolute in themselves alone. In short, nnothing is completely Yin or completely Yang. Each aspect contains the beginning point for the other aspect. For example: day becomes night and then night becomes day gradually as one welcomes the other to the fore and vice versa. Yin and Yang are interdependent upon each other so that the definition of one requires the definition for the other to be complete. And so in keeping with this healthy tension of opposite our translator links two sexual poles male and female in calling the "Master" a she, i.e., in referring to "her mind."  Also the Tao or its truth is ungraspable in its entirety.  This Master is "at one" with the Tao insofar as she does not "cling to (hard and set) ideas."  Another polarity is that of the Tao's being dark and mysterious on the one hand and yet fully radiant on the other.  Here we are at the very heart of what the Yin Yang symbol represents - the complexity and mysteriousness at the very heart of existence.  Another opposing pair in this spiritual reality is "is" ("being") and "is not" ("non-being").

Man contemplates life on Monasterace Beach, August 2015

Looking inside is no mere navel-gazing or solipsism as meditation requires one to check one's experiences with those of the community of meditators, with the various traditions and their teachings to which the meditator belongs in the first place.  Wisdom arises or is experienced within a culture or a community and simply cannot be accessed alone. (Here, I am not, of course ruling out the thrust towards eremitism as this latter only occurs when the hermit has been fully schooled within the community in the first place: all hermits break away from monasteries or sanghas where they first learnt to meditate with a master in a community setting.)

Once more, by way of conclusion, I invite the reader to reflect contemplatively on the above short poem.  Perhaps a word or a phrase or a line may suggest itself to you as a mantra for a short five or ten minutes meditation here.

Namaste, Shalom, Peace!!

Thoughts on the Tao Te Ching 20

Poem 20

Stop thinking and end your problems.

What difference between yes and no?

What difference between success and failure?

Must you value what others value?

Avoid what others avoid?

How ridiculous!

Other people are excited

as though they were at a parade.

I alone don't care,

I alone am expressionless,

like an infant before it can smile.

Other people have what they need;

I alone possess nothing.

I alone drift about

like someone without a home.

I am like an idiot,

my mind is so empty.

Other people are bright,

I alone am dark.

Other people are sharp,

I alone am dull.

Other people have a purpose,

I alone don't know.

I drift like a wave on the ocean,

I blow as aimless as the wind.

I am different from ordinary people.

I drink from the Great Mother's breasts.

Commentary

Elsewhere it is written that the reality of the Tao transcends the human power of reason and simply has to be grasped or apprehended intuitively: "It is beyond words, beyond all differences and distinction; it is the unchanging, permanent reality of constant change; it is the ground of being and non-being; it is akin to the Hindu concept of the Brahman" (See HERE). Hence, when we read a poem from the Tao Te Ching or any work of perennial philosophy or spirituality we must rely on our instincts, our intuition and our inner wisdom or heart to guide us.

The opening stanza repeats an old gem of wisdom, namely that too much thinking is very bad for us.  With too much thinking we can create a problem that was not there in the first place. People who are stressed or under pressure and those who are depressed or suffer from some mental illness most times fail to go to sleep at night because their minds are so over-wrought that they simply cannot turn their thoughts off.  Often people drink or take drugs to attempt to shut their over-wrought and troubled minds down.  Beginners especially, but also improvers and skilled practitioners can and do experience difficulty in shutting out distracting thoughts.  That's why the books and experts all recommend returning to concentrating on the breath or a simple mantra to dispel such distracting thoughts or at least to minimise them as far as possible. 

Once again the writer of the Tao Te Ching proceeds by way of paradoxes and seeming contradictions and by equating opposites; by suggesting that there is no difference between a yes and a no.  He even sees no difference between success and failure.  This is all the stuff of koans; in the wisdom tradition of Zen, it is akin to asking the meditator to listen to the sound of one hand clapping. Somewhere in these paradoxes, in these enigmas and koans there lies a deep, deep wisdom that stretches beyond our ken.  Yet, there is a truth within them that draws us ever onward in contemplation like a powerful hidden magnet. 

Once again, here I would like to return to the wisdom of that wonderful American President Abraham Lincoln who endured much failure in his life as a prelude to his successes.  He was able to see failure as that which helps us put things in perspective.  He was granted a philosophical mind and a spiritual insight that helped him gain from such real failures, failures he could see contained within them the seeds of his later success.  Moreover, I love the Irish wit and wisdom of one of our famous international novelists, the great James Joyce, that his intention in life was "to fail bettter."

The "I"  and its voice in the poem are, of course, that of the Tao himself/herself/itself.  The Great Mother, mentioned in the final stanza, is also the Tao.  She(he/it) is "expressionless", the very countenance of a baby before it can smile, possessing nothing, with an empty mind, dark and mysterious, drifting with the ease of a wave and blowing as aimlessly as the wind.  She/he/it is the quintessence of mystery itself.  To reflect on this twentieth poem is to dive into the mystery of mysteries.  Don't expect to be enlightened.  Just ponder and wonder at the very darkness of the mystery.

Conclusion:

Finally, I invite the reader to ponder the above poem contemplatively and let any line, phrase or word suggest itself to you as a mantra for a ten minute meditation.

Namaste, Friends.

Thoughts on the Tao Te Ching 19

                                                                              19

Throw away holiness and wisdom,

and people will be a hundred times happier.

Throw away morality and justice,

and people will do the right thing.

Throw away industry and profit,

and there won't be any thieves.

If these three aren't enough,

just stay at the centre of the circle

and let all things take their course.

Commentary

The Tao Te Ching, like all serious books of wisdom, works by way of paradoxes and the setting up of oppositional tensions between ideas.  Why? Well, quite simply, wisdom, like truth,  is "rarely pure and never simple.” (That quotation on truth comes from The Importance of Being Ernest by Oscar Wilde).  John Keats implies this same understanding when he says that we humans must make sense of life's deeper mysteries by what he termed a process of "negative capability" that he described quite paradoxically as that attitude of mind "when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason."  One could say that this encapsulates something similar to what Eastern spiritualities and practices, especially Zen, mean by the practice of contemplating koans.

Sand on Donabate Beach, summer 2015

With that simple introduction, let us reflect on the above stanzas of Poem 19.  Holiness and Wisdom which parade themselves as proclaiming the answers to big questions are mere sham and pretence.  Real wisdom and holiness don't parade themselves in front of others and belong to a natural and real humility.  Morality and Justice, when likewise paraded before others inasmuch as they signal a superficial application of both virtues, are also mere sham and pretence.  A society where "industry" and "profit" are all that count will inevitable invite more people to commit crime out of sheer frustration at being at the bottom of the heap.

The writer of these stanzas calls the reader back to the centre point or the still point of being where the meditator, the contemplator or the disciple will achieve a state of equanimity, an attitude of mind that is untroubled by life's vagaries.

I will finish this brief post with my usual invitation to the reader to reflect on the above stanzas in a meditative way and allow a phrase or word from those stanzas to stir the spirit within.  Happy meditating.

NAMASTE

Thoughts on the Tao Te Ching 18

18

When the great Tao is forgotten,

goodness and piety and appear.

When the body's intelligence declines,

cleverness and knowledge step forth.

When there is no peace in the family,

filial piety begins.

When the country falls into chaos,

patriotism is born.

Commentary

Once again, paradox lies at the heart of the Tao.  The above poem is seemingly, or at face value, contradictory.  As Oscar Wilde once said: “The truth is rarely pure and never simple.” Goodness and piety in the above poem are looked upon as lesser, more superficial qualities than the wisdom that comes from the Tao.  Piety, uncoupled from just actions, is simply hollow and even hypocritical. Goodness that is self-serving and egotistic is certainly not loving kindness.  When the wisdom of the body is forgotten, even ignored, cleverness and knowledge come to the fore.  Cleverness smacks of striving either to impress the hearer or of attempting to ridicule his arguments.  Filial piety is merely respect out of duty rather than out of real respect for the person as person.  Patriotism often emerges from conflict and chaos and even bloodshed.

Unusually shaped tree, Newbridge House, Donabate, Co Dublin

Conclusion

Read over the above poem reflectively and allow a word or phrase to strike your imagination.  For five or ten minutes use that word or phrase as a mantra for a brief meditation.

Thoughts on the Tao Te Ching 17

17

When the Master governs, the people

are hardly aware that he exists.

Next best is a leader who is loved.

Next, one who is feared.

The worst is one who is despised.

If you don't trust the people,

you make them untrustworthy.

The Master doesn't talk, he acts.

When his work is done,

the people say, "Amazing:

we did it all, all by ourselves.

Commentary

A. Lincoln: a great Leader

These stanzas of the seventeenth poem are a reflection on good leadership and all that it entails.  Over a 35 year career I have observed many leaders at work in a school setting.  The best leaders amongst them worked away unobserved most of the time and they achieved much. The worst of them were micro-managers seeking to control others.  Managers who were into control and power, or to put it in other words, were obsessed with their own EGO were disliked, caused acrimony among the staff and achieved little.  The above poem is a very perspicacious and wise comment on the style of a good manager where the term "Master" can be substituted easily with the word "manager." 

Conclusion

Once again I invite the reader of this blog to read over the above poem meditatively and to pick out a favourite word or phrase and to use the same as a mantra for a short period of reflection, say five or ten minutes.  Namaste, friends.