13
Great renown is more deadly than disgrace;
To impugn your bodily nature is self-loathing.
Fear is the blood of fame;
Your own imbalance is the fuel
Of favor-seeking and the lust for praise.
The only real misfortune
Is to look at Nature and see affliction.
When the treasure is split from its source,
Body and nature become a well of sorrow.
Cherish your bodily being;
Reconnect with the Source.
Creating and dissolving are one in the Cosmos:
Honor the life of the body, and your care will extend
To the formless Essence.
Throughout the Tao Te Ching, the error of the pursuit of fame is exposed. In this verse, Lao Tzu shows how the desire for fame arises from a view of the self and of Nature as somehow limited, stained, or at fault. To thus "look at Nature and see affliction" means that one must do something to rise above this Cosmic affliction, this inborn insufficiency of the self and the universe. Frequently this means seeking renown or other recognition according to a group norm, usually in the service of intellectual or spiritual values. In most religious and cultural ideologies, this means belittling or demonizing the body and its functions as part of one's "lower nature." This act of dividing nature, especially one's own nature, into higher and lower aspects, is to "split the treasure from its Source." It is a fundamental error of human thought, and is entirely unnecessary: our bodies are the formed expression of the Tao, the vessels of chi, the life force that pervades the Cosmos. Within the living body, cells are created, dissolved, and recreated continuously; this is the way of Nature, the way of transformation.
14
Look for it-it is invisible;
Listen for it-it is silent;
Try to grasp it-it is not solid.
Its nature is bodiless,
Yet it is the essence of body.
Its darkness is the source of light,
Its infinitude, the ground of time.
It is the Formless One
From which all forms arise.
Pursue, and it eludes you;
Follow, and it vanishes.
Thought cannot hold it,
But you can抰 think without it.
It is the thread of all being,
The origin, the pulse of time.
It is the wave upon the strand of life:
Pervading, defining, nourishing.
15
The one who wrote these bone-old words
Set out to draw the veil of Mystery
From the truth of his moment.
It was impenetrable to logic,
But the subtle dance of verse
Could pierce the appearance,
And neutralize the profundity.
He was cautiously humble,
As if walking on ice.
Ever conscious of danger,
He approached his undertaking
With watchful reserve,
Like a visitor to far-off shores:
Pliant, like ice in the spring,
Malleable, like fresh yew,
Open, like a mountain valley.
In utter stillness, he watched himself
As if he were a murky pool of water;
Until his mud had settled
And clarity had been restored.
He learned to shed excess, and to seek fulfillment
Solely through diminishment.
In renouncing want, he received abundance in his old age,
In surrendering advantage, he shredded the wisdom of his era
And thus transformed it.
Under the guidance of the Sage, I have recast this poem as a description of Lao Tzu himself, and his approach to exploring the Tao through this marvelous set of teaching poems. This is really a very short step from traditional translations, which have Lao Tzu describing the experiences of "ancient Masters." Clearly, Lao Tzu is not in the camp that deifies ancient masters, and he would certainly be horrified at his own deification at the hands of religious Taoists in the centuries after him.
This was revealed to me in a meditation image as I began the work of this rendering of the Tao Te Ching: I saw Lao Tzu standing uncomfortably on a very high pedestal of glistening ivory. I approached the pedestal, looked up at him, and then kicked hard at the base of the pedestal, which shattered, collapsing the whole. The old philosopher came tumbling down but landed on his feet. He smiled, reached out his hand toward me, and said, "thanks." This meditation (aside from providing me a great laugh) taught me a great deal about how to approach a new rendering of the Tao Te Ching, and it also taught me that Lao Tzu is still very much present in consciousness, and that he remains available to help and to teach梟ot as a god or a legend of an old and revered book, but as a living, conscious presence. In reference to this poem in particular, the Sage showed me that Lao Tzu had unconsciously written a sort of inner autobiography in verse, and that this is how I could present it in English.
Everyone, without exception, has the inner wherewithal to experience art and nature this way梛ust look within make that peculiar connection with the Tao that only you can make with it.
16
While sitting in stillness,
Connect with the Cosmic Harmony.
By clearing the space within,
In steadfast quietude,
Let your true self observe
The numberless compressions of consciousness:
How they arise and recede,
Coming into being and blooming;
Retreating at last toward the Cosmic Origin.
Return to the root, to the primal nature,
Is the way of all beings.
Let your awareness contemplate
The eternal cycle of return,
And your insight will deepen in this.
The understanding that is nurtured
On the dispersion of ignorance
Perpetually broadens its perspective.
To embrace the way of return,
To feel the immutable equality of being,
Nurtures equanimity and justice.
To live in the Tao means abiding in the eternal-
Perceiving completely, with all one抯 being:
Life is never exhausted;
It is only delusion that dies.
This poem again reveals Lao Tzu's familiarity with the I Ching, for it evokes and draws upon Hexagram 24 of that text, which is called "Returning." To the poet(s) of the I Ching, 揜eturning?is about feeling the cycle death-and-life in every moment, in the same way that beauty and truth become one within an open heart.
This is an accurate summation of the theme of Chapter 16 of Lao Tzu as well, for it is what the poet means by "the dispersion of ignorance," and "it is only delusion that dies."
Also in Hexagram 24, the original text of the Judgment says, "to and fro goes the way." This is the dance of form and non-form described by Lao Tzu in this poem: forms arise and recede; they are born, flourish, and then retreat to their Cosmic Origin. And indeed, "life is never exhausted," for this return to non-form is followed by transformation back into form as the dance of consciousness endlessly perpetuates. We can truly experience this Cosmic Principle of returning, by "clearing the space within" in meditation, and by separating ourselves from the rigid prejudice of ignorance and false belief. This process of allowing inner clarity to develop opens understanding and "nurtures equanimity and justice." It is a self-perpetuating and deeply nourishing inner experience that never seems to run its course, but is always complete in itself, each time we allow it to arise.
Chapter 16 is a deeply moving poem. It is a literary meditation on death-as-life: forthright, dignified, and utterly free of false sentiment or ideology. To inwardly perceive the Cosmic principle of returning is to see beyond the realm of the apparent; it is the natural and most nourishing movement of the human heart.
17
The truly developed self
Is ever aware of the Cosmic Presence.
Another may abide
In love and praise of it;
Still another might fear it;
And finally there are those
Who hold it in contempt.
Trust is not built on faith;
It is nurtured on experience.
One following the Sage uses words sparingly,
And lets his natural action speak;
His work is not enslaved to a goal-
Its accomplishment is his statement.
Then progress happens
As if no one had tried.
18
Wherever the cosmic order is neglected,
Goodness and morality are born.
When the heart抯 awareness is repressed,
The intellect is led into hypocrisy.
When the family loses its natural harmony,
The rules of duty and honor are enforced.
When the natural society is disrupted,
The dragon of state arises,
And powerful leaders take over.
Separation from the Cosmic Whole is misfortune because it starves the true self in a suffocating act of oppression. This can happen at an intimately individual level (within the heart), among a family, or within an entire society of people, and the result is the same: a forced and false limitation of the natural self, the natural family, or the natural society. The I Ching refers to this type of oppression as "galling limitation" in Hexagram 60, Limitation. It adds that this "galling limitation must not be persevered in."
Lao Tzu reminds us that when the cosmic order is repressed, families, communities, and nations are then turned into food-chain style hierarchies梡ower structures supported by rigid and superficial notions of morality, intelligence, duty, reward, and obligation. An entire spectrum of sacrificial self-images arises from these ideas: images of the obedient spouse, the sacrificing parent, the hero in society, and the honor of god, country, family, or of the self as defined in the context of the collective, and the forced duties that this honor demands. In the next poem, Chapter 19, and several others, Lao Tzu encourages us to destroy self-images梐s individuals, families, and nations梑y ridding ourselves of the false ideas that feed them. As he suggests in Chapter 19, we all have the "inner discernment" to detect deceit and oppression; once we nurture and use that natural ability, we can then simply release ourselves of the ideas that further oppression.
19
Separate from spirituality;
Extinguish wisdom,
And there will be benefit for all.
Discard all pretence
To piety and benevolence,
And the people will help one another.
Close the academies;
Extirpate the feudal rites,
And sorrow will be annihilated.
Banish investment vehicles,
Impoverish the profit-takers,
And there will be neither thieves nor frauds.
These are the ornaments of my teaching,
But hardly the essence, which is this:
Rely upon your inner discernment;
Return to your original purity;
Wear down your ego;
Break out of the circle of desire.
20
t down your intellect, and answer:
Between yes and no, spoken from within,
How little a difference is there,
Compared to that between success and failure?
Why would I fear what others do?
Why must I give my inner consent
To the values of the collective?
Oh! How the desolation around me
Has reached its utmost sunken limit!
The lusty mob is buried in busyness,
As if gathered for a sacrificial feast
(Yet who or what is being sacrificed?)
But I alone-as if from an outpost of vigilance-
Am apart: blank and unmoved,
Like an infant who hasn抰 yet learned to smile.
Isolated and withdrawn, I am like a homeless man.
Others are absorbed in getting and spending;
While I appear broken and bare of influence.
Others shine with the luminous glow
Of progress, brilliance, and daring;
But I am like a simpleton, vapid and raving.
The world around me teems with cleverness;
I alone retreat into dullness.
With what fathomless depth,
Like a sea-born whirlpool of sound and storm,
Do they ponder and debate-
Ceaseless, directionless, and adamant-
But I alone am obtuse, disturbed, thickheaded,
Like some coarse cloth, unrefinable
And therefore worthless.
Yes, I am different, as are my values:
For I drink from the breast of the Sublime Mother.
21
The greatness of modesty is fulfilled
In harmony with the Cosmic Source.
Its nature seems elusive, ephemeral;
It is evanescent, indefinable;
But only because its action is unforced.
It is the very center of the self,
Yet we don抰 know where it is.
It is the active voice of being:
Formless, and impenetrable to thought,
Yet manifest in every natural act
Through the furthest memory of Time.
It never arrives, never departs;
Its expression fulfills Nature.
It is the child of discernment,
The parent of action.
By what do I know this Essence?
From the formless truth within me.
In this poem, Lao Tzu introduces the concept of Te, or, as I have been guided to render it, the cosmic principle of Modesty. It is a principle that informs natural action, of inner clarity that is inseparable from the outer movement or activity that it inspires. This outer movement is known as wu-wei, or unforced action. It comes from "the very center of the self," where the accretions and distortions of belief and analysis do not exist.
Te is the point at which the Sage, the teaching heart of the Cosmic Whole, intersects with and expresses our deepest true nature. You can't pin it down with definitions because it isn't fixed or formed; it gently and playfully eludes the clutches and machinations of ego (thus, the gentle humor of this poem, and others following, in which the poet sings of Te).
Te is neither attainment nor achievement, because it has never been apart from us: how can you attain something that you've always had, and how can you achieve something that you have always been? It speaks clearly, but does not persuade; it works, but does not strive. Modesty is not the shrinking violet of consciousness, as it is often represented culturally ("rather shy" is one definition of modesty in the Oxford American Dictionary). The modesty that Lao Tzu is encouraging us to discover is expression and action molded from the personal and formless truth within: it is nothing less (or more) than the manifestation of Tao.
22
Yield to the outer, and you remain
Firm and complete within.
Appear crooked to others,
But be straight and true within.
Empty yourself, and be made full;
Strip yourself of excess
And you will know true rejuvenation.
Thus does diminishment attract abundance,
While accumulation nurtures conflict.
