MEDITATIONS: TAO TE CHING CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
hold and embody
be the one who will hold and embody the tao way of life
by shaping yourself with the great ultimate symbol
by holding yourself within the confluence of its meeting rhythms
be the one who centers themselves between heaven and earth
and move about in the field of unlimited possibilities
you will breathe with your skin
you will shine with every breath
and quicken the way you lay, sit, stand, and walk
this is the true breathing that inspires and attracts true life
this is the true breathing that inspires and attracts the tao source of life
each breath is an illumination
there are many illuminations
the ancient child asks
what follows
what flows in and flows out
sturdy comfort
abundant rest
organized serenity
and a smile
a silent song of the sweetest music
a sweet taste of honey swallowed gently
a desire to play, dance, paint, and sing
I am actually singing in a world that is somehow
bigger
brighter
funnier
more wondrous than I could have possibly imagined
I want to reach out to strangers and passersby
I want to visit with them
I want to talk with them
I want to laugh with them
the ancient child asks
are these ghosts or real people
it doesn’t matter
complete the ritual
draw the words in a ghost’s sandbox
don’t stop until it’s time
your guests want you to complete the contract
remember
you stand between heaven and earth
you are the middle place
the ancient child asks
can you feel my hand on your spine
yes I can
my spine is part of a roof that protects me
the ancient child says
yes it is
paint the changes you feel in your spine
show me where life rushes into you
show me where life rushes out
I paint the symbols
heaven, earth, wind, water, mountain, fire, thunder, and lake
the ancient child asks
what do you see
I see a circle of jade
the ancient child asks
what do you hear
I hear a woman singing
the ancient child asks
where are you
I am in a church or a temple
the ancient child asks
what color is the road outside
it is blue-green
the ancient child asks
what are you doing now
I am rocking back and forth
I can not stop
and my hair is tickling me
the ancient child asks
what are your emotions
I feel anxious
your hand is hot on my back
the ancient child says
think of a warm waterfall
focus on your brush and continue to paint
my family is all sitting around a table reading and talking
the ancient child asks
is the table upstairs or downstairs
our dining room is upstairs
the ancient child asks
what do you see
a bowl of fruit in the center
the ancient child asks
where are you
I am on a farm
the ancient child asks
what time of year is it
it is my birthday
these places can not be seen or heard
these places are innumerable and inexhaustible and subtle
you have the power to go to any of these places
if you will but return there often
visit, commune, and rest there
don’t speak of them
because words as drugs and words as labels are coarse
they will rob them of their real taste
instead
simply
remember
return home
—Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching; An authentic Taoist translation. translated by John Bright-Fey
What does Lao-tzu mean to “hold and embody?”—to be in possession of while simultaneously being that thing. I believe he means that we ought to bear the wisdom while at the same time acting upon it, that each of us ought not only to know but also to live out the Tao way of life by each of us finding our own balance—to come to be properly represented by the traditional Taoist symbol, the Yin-Yang—that which incorporates conscious and unconscious elements, that which in mythology produces the divine hero from the meeting of feminine and masculine elements—he who reconstitutes stultified order by incorporating and ordering chaos.
From here, we enter into something akin to a dream-interpretation.
To “breathe with your skin” is to make the borders dividing the self from the external world permeable, inviting in “breath” or air or inspiration. To “shine with every breath” is to bring radiance of the light of consciousness, in other words, psychic integration of previously unconscious elements. Together they are the dissolving of the former self and the transmuting of what is found in the dark into something brilliant (this is how the alchemists describe the transmutation of the philosopher’s stone).
This transformation touches every aspect of the self, so much so that even mundane actions brighten those around the enlightened. He who embodies the Tao way of life becomes a vessel for inspiration and therefore a vessel for the Tao source of life. This interpretation makes clear the stanza, “each breath is an illumination / there are many illuminations.”
Then, further in, our described vision becomes also a discourse with our familiar Child archetype. He asks what follows, flows in, and flows out; and Lao-tzu answers him describing peace of mind and an absolute love of life. He describes an attitude which imparts a desire to sing and dance and commune with others, one which makes the world more beautiful and pleasurable that can be imagined—to which the Child asks, “are these ghosts or real people?”
The Archetype is questioning whether the pleasant reality is really real or merely constructed—merely projected as an illusion over the true state of the world. Strangely, Lao-tzu replies that, “it doesn’t matter.” And this makes sense, given that people and the world as we know them are everywhere and always known only through the illusion of our human perception. What difference does it make if that illusion is reconstructed so long as we embody the Tao way of life. In fact, Lao-tzu argues, it is in the hearts of others that we “complete the ritual” and more and more become luminous vessels for the Tao source of life—for in doing so, we become the middle ground, the heroic mediators of order and chaos. We become the firm foundation on which the can find their own stability to stand.
Our vision and discourse shift: the Child archetype touches Lao-tzu’s “spine” which he promptly describes as being “part of a roof that protects [him].” What is meant here? Clearly the “spine” is a symbol. The spine is our backbone, that which keeps us up-right, courageous, and connected with the rest of our body. Given this, no wonder the Child archetype makes contact here. The Child is the Jungian herald of the Hero—the instinctive image of bravery, moral character, and the ability to overcome formerly impossible obstacles. The “roof,” then, is a form of order or structure. It is a set of standards, a way of being, a pattern of thought and behavior.
Touched by the reconstitute archetype of the Child, Lao-tzu is then asked to paint—to visualize—where life rushes in and out. From this we are given many images, many of which I do not possess the knowledge to understand. I will do my best at interpreting them:
“heaven, earth, wind, water, mountain, fire, thunder, and lake”—traditional Chinese elements, perhaps. Base elements, like those brought together to create the rotundum, an unrefined component refined to create the philosophers stone.
“a circle of jade . . . a woman singing . . . a church or a temple,” and a “blue-green” road—a roundness, ring, or enclosure of precious stone; a feminine harmony, or perhaps harmony with the chaos, the unconscious, or the unknown; and a place of transcendence, where one comes to contemplate how properly to think about and at within the world.
The result of these vision is something akin to an anxious break down. Perhaps it is the Taoist equivalent to the Nigredo, the blackness of melancholia entered into by the alchemists. It is a necessary and initial step, as it is shown to be in the case of Lao-tzu. He is soothed and encouraged to continue his painting—to continue his vision.
Next, he sees his family sat at a table in a dining room upstairs (the floor this room is in is given extra importance as a place of elevated height). At the center of this family table is a bowl of fruit, a round vessel of sweetness and nourishment (or perhaps a vessel of consequences). This place is a farm and the day his Lao-tzu’s birthday—a place of sowing and growing seeds at a time of celebration of one’s own existence. Let us try to put them all together: At the height of consciousness is a state of being surrounded by loved ones at the center of which are the pleasant fruits produced from working the unconscious all in celebration of own’s existence in the world.
This is a state of being that should be kept wordless and nameless, for it is of the essence of the Tao source of life that cannot be named. It is an internal home in which one can find peace. It is where we can come to embody the Tao way of life and find intrinsic meaning.
Lao-tzu. “Chapter Thirty-Five”. Tao Te Ching; An Authentic Taoist Translation, translated by John Bright-Fey, Sweetwater Press, 2014. pp.69-72
