Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Chapter 22

Bend and you will be whole.
Curl and you will be straight.
Keep empty and you will be filled.
Grow old and you will be renewed.

Have little and you will gain.
Have much and you will be confused.

Therefore, the Sage embraces the One,
And becomes a Pattern to all under Heaven.
He does not make a show of himself,
Hence he shines;
Does not justify himself,
Hence he becomes known;
Does not boast of his ability,
Hence he gets his credit;
Does not brandish his success,
Hence he endures;
Does not compete with anyone,
Hence no one can compare with him.
Indeed, the ancient saying: ‘Bend and you will remain whole’ is no idle word.
Nay, if you have really attained wholeness, everything will flock to you.

The analogy often given here is the swaying grass, which although flimsy, survives the same storm that brings the mighty oak tree crashing to the ground. 

Life constantly requires us to change and to adept.  And in those rare moments when we are happy to live spontaneously in the flow, we see that we might be soft in some situations, stern in others; with our friends we might be open and serious, with our colleagues reserved and superficially light-hearted.

Our problem arises when we start to imagine that we should  be a certain way; or more commonly, we have a fixed idea about the kind of people we really are and then stick rigidly to these ideals despite their inconvenience.

Nothing in nature remains always in the same form.  There is nothing essential about any one of the innumerable manifestations our characters adopt in the course of a single day.  Opening up to the fact that there is nothing distinctive about our personalities, allows us to adopt a much more adaptable and flexible attitude to life.

Keep empty and you will be filled.
Grow old and you will be renewed.

Once we have become aware of, and taken refuge in our true spiritual identity, we are free to let the circumstances in our life come and go as they like.  If we are not in this state of spiritual security we will become attached to those outer situations that we judge good or beneficial for our isolated individual selves.

But when we cling to things in this way, we start to notice that after a time, they become harder to cling to.  It feels like there is some invisible demon seeking to rob us of their comfort; this makes us cling to them all the harder.

We do not realise that, should we let the demon have its way, we immediately create a vacancy in our life for something that is new and fresh to come in.  By letting ourselves go empty, we ensure that we will be refilled.  Life lived this way is truly rewarding.  Not only do we learn to trust the universe to supply us; what it supplies seems ever timely, fresh and appropriate.  It takes great trust to live this way, but we shall be amply rewarded.

We must also be prepared and happy to grow old, to decay.  As a society we have practically no idea of the benefits that can arrive when we accept the ageing of our bodies, and not always resist it medically or otherwise.  The ultimate test of our trust is when we face death with the attitude that death too shall bring renewal.  To those acquainted with their spiritual selves, this is not only perfectly likely, but even obvious.  To those who aren’t, death presents us with the final and inevitable opportunity to realise who we really are.

This is the benevolence of the Tao!  If the Tao were truly heartless, it would not permit our physical bodies to die!

Have little and you will gain.
Have much and you will be confused.

This is the sentiment most commonly associated with Jesus – the camel passes through the eye of the needle easier than the rich man enters heaven.  Actually, it is a common observation in all the religious teachings, and it is perhaps Islam which most effectively ensures that all are materially equal.

Being poor is not a virtue in itself.  It is not a ‘good thing’ to deliberately deprive yourself of material wealth just for the sake of it.  But, the fact remains, that those who are wealthy will find it much harder to locate the spiritual treasure that lies within them, every moment of every day.  It is harder for the rich because they have the power and the opportunity to console themselves with all the wonderful goods on the outside.

The poor do not have this problem; the road to heaven lies straighter and with less obstacles.  But they still have to make the journey! The poor man who lies complacent, accusing the rich while applauding their own lack is going nowhere.  In fact they are worse than the rich – who at least are ‘enjoying their present reward in full.’

It is significant, however, that the text uses the word confused when talking about the rich.  The rich person always has so many options available to them.  Their life has so much potential because activities are not withheld from them through lack of funds. 

But this makes it hard to feel confident in the path they steer.  That sense of security and trust that we all develop in times of constraint does not come easily to the rich person.  The perfection of each moment is tarnished by the consciousness that it might have been different, had they spent their money differently.  Their individual will, and the inconsistencies and vagaries of that will, presents itself in a much more vivid fashion than it does to the poor man.  This is why having much leads us to confusion and faithlessness.

Therefore, the Sage embraces the One,
And becomes a Pattern to all under Heaven.

When we forget about our individual will and live in accordance with the Tao, an entirely different set of behaviours ensues.  Our sole purpose in life is no longer about securing individual comfort and well-being. 

Something new comes in, something much higher than mankind.  The people recognise in the sage one who is not like them, does not live as they live.  They cannot help but suppose that this comes from a higher place, from God in Heaven.  This is why the sage becomes a pattern to all those who are still on earth.

He does not make a show of himself,
Hence he shines;
Does not justify himself,
Hence he becomes known;
Does not boast of his ability,
Hence he gets his credit;
Does not brandish his success,
Hence he endures;
Does not compete with anyone,
Hence no one can compare with him.

These can all be summed up by some simple advice: Cease to attach importance to your acts, and the fruits of your acts, and those acts will be performed to a level of excellence that exceeds all others who attempt them.

When we have already attained all that we ever wished to attain – and I am talking about the inner bliss of spiritual realisation – we could never again get too wrapped up the works we perform on the outside.  Just as the dancer only excels when he stops thinking about where to put his feet, we as people shall only live our lives beautifully and skilfully when we stop taking our silly fool’s errands so seriously.

Everything we do is quite useless, ultimately.  But who has the courage to actually face this fact and see themselves so belittled?  We fear the nihilist in society, the one who can see no meaning anywhere.  We don’t want to hear his pessimism, and yet it is through nihilism that we can come to the realisation that it is precisely the meaningless of the world that makes it so adorable, beautiful and joyous.

Indeed, the ancient saying: ‘Bend and you will remain whole’ is no idle word.
Nay, if you have really attained wholeness, everything will flock to you.

Success brings rewards, and there is no one more successful at simply living than the saint. But these rewards are taken as they come, with the same unattached liberality which enabled them to accrue.  The realised sage is free to enjoy the goods of the world, and has none of that anxiety of eventual loss and failure which haunts the successful man of the worldly world.


Previous                                                 Chapter index                                                       Next


No comments:

Post a Comment