MEDITATIONS: TAO TE CHING CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
the very best students of the tao way of life
try their best to be open to its mysteries
by using their higher intuition and naturally entering its
transcendental shape
they simply look
they simply see
the typical students of the tao way of life
try their best to let the mysteries in
but get in their own way by thinking into it too much
they look halfheartedly
they can not see clearly
those students of the tao way of life that are worthless
can not be said to really be students at all
because they can not sense, see, or reason
when they hear about the mysteries
they laugh, ridicule, and demean the whole idea
what they do not realize
is that they are only seeing
their own blindness
what they do not know
is that laughter
is the taoist way of seeing
laughter outlines the great mystery
the ancient child asks
what are the first qualities of a student of the tao way of life
higher intuition and the ability to laugh with a full heart
if you cannot laugh
you can not know the tao way of life
a wisdom thread that stretches back to antiquity tells us
what is real and true and how to recognize it
the bright path seems dim
cloudy
the direct path seems crooked
obscured
the smooth and level path
actually bobs and weaves
true strength of character seems weak to the ignorant
authentic white always carries a part of blackness with it
true abundance is actually empty
can you see it
the greatest stability is actually tenuous
can you feel it
the highest certitude is actually a lie
can you find truth that easily
the transcendental shape has no walls or limit
can you move into it
the transcendental shape is small and unfillable
can you fill it up
the greatest talent requires time and work to ripen
can you patiently wait for it
practice does not make perfect
practice is perfect to begin with
can you really behave that way
the greatest sound is actually silent
can you hear it
living the tao way of life is so ancient and natural
that it has no name
it is so accessible and pervasive
that you can not see it
yet it is both the beginning and the end of everything
that lends its profound magic to the entire world
—Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching; An authentic Taoist translation. translated by John Bright-Fey
“An eye on the goal is an eye off the path.” I believe that is how the Zen Buddhist aphorism goes, though I know not precisely where or whom to attribute it to. None the less, it is part of the central message of Chapter Forty-One. Accept imperfection. Perhaps the whole of Taoism is this, or perhaps a sudden personal revelation has colored my vision; either way, that dictum seems to touch at the core of the purpose of Taoism, Stoicism, and other philosophies which wrestle with the meaning and purpose of life.
The best students of the Tao are able to see clearly. Their intuitions are open. Why? Because they realize that it is desirable for their vision to be fallible. They are willing to make mistakes. Perhaps they want to make mistakes, for to desire otherwise is to desire to be a perfect being—and no being is perfect. This is why the typical student of the Tao (myself perhaps?) struggles. The desire to understand correctly, to see correctly, to be intelligent, perceptive, and profound are all the same as wanting to be perfect. But perfection is an illusion; reality is imperfect. And so, as a consequence, the typical student becomes either afraid to act or else frustrated when he does act. Things never turn out as he planned. Even when he can accurately model the consequences of his actions, he cannot accurately model how he will feel or react to those consequences. He does not realize that the world is not his map. He does not realize that he is mistaking his preconceived notions as to how the universe ought to be for the Tao source of life itself.
But fret not (I say also to myself), for there is a worse fate. There are those that scoff at such questions in the first place. There are those who laugh at the very idea of meaning and purpose. They are those who assume they understand themselves and the world around them. They are those who presuppose their own correctness. They are the Child who refuses the call to adventure, who refuses to become the hero, and so they turn against life instead. They worship their own maps and models of the world and laugh at all others. They do not understand that the Taoist sees laughter as a bless and not a curse—because the best students of the Tao seek to embrace their own imperfection.
And how does one embrace his imperfection without falling into the trap of the “sickness of the mind” (the desire to be perfect in pursuit of accepting imperfection, similar to the riddle of Buddhism, letting go of the desire to let go of desire)? Through humility and compassion for the self. One must realize that his mode of greatest balance is at his lowest point. It is good to be able to laugh at yourself, and it is good to be laughed at and to join in the laughter. It means that one is enjoying life, even in its moments of suffering. To laugh and smile at one’s own imperfection is to overcome the paradox that is the Tao. It is to find peace, tranquility and happiness in even the miserable aspects of our human existence. It is to truly love one’s fate for what it is and not what one wants it to be. It is to love the process of living each moment to moment, to be present engaged with what one is doing. It is to realize that perfection is the imperfect practice. It is the Tao—the Way to and not the destination.
Accept imperfection.
We are the only ones standing in our own way.
Lao-tzu. “Chapter Forty-One”. Tao Te Ching; An Authentic Taoist Translation, translated by John Bright-Fey, Sweetwater Press, 2014. pp.82-4