MEDITATIONS: TAO TE CHING CHAPTER TWELVE
imagine a soft light of blue-green
imagine a strong red light
imagine a rich yellow light
imagine a bright white light
now imagine the black absence of color
if you look at these lights singly you will know what they are
if you allow them into your eyes all at once
then you will not be able to distinguish one from the other
the twelve musical notes can be arranged magically to create a
joyful noise
the twelve musical notes can also be thrown together without
method
like stones in a hole
that becomes an ordinary activity that denies the hole its usefulness
attempt to
eat something sour
eat something bitter
eat something sweet
eat something pungent
eat something salty
all at the same time and the once pleasant tastes are likely to
nauseate you
ordinary people exceed the basic goodness of the things of this world
in searching for new ways to exceed themselves
the momentum of exceeding unbalances the heartmind
and generates insecurity and a loose footing that denies the true self
for these reasons
the sound person speaks to the unconscious heartmind
requesting instructions on how to nourish the true self
when gently asked
the unconscious teaches appreciation for those things that are within us
all
when gently asked
the unconscious teaches circumspection for those things that are without us
all
—Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching; An authentic Taoist translation. translated by John Bright-Fey
Conflate not inclusion with unity, utility, nor peace. Conflate not progress with improvement, development, nor maturation. These are the lessons of Chapter Twelve following those of Eleven: it is the separation of two things which allows for potential to manifest; it is the exclusion—the sacrifice—of all other possibility which facilitates something becoming anything at all. In short, creation comes from constraint. Perhaps this is why the human will must be brought in accordance with the objective world and not the other way around, because meaning can only be created via the will if it is placed under limitations.
We derive from this that the opposite is also true. If exclusion, limitation, division, separation, confines, and constraints are what bring things into being, then inclusion is a conceptual solvent. Inclusion—the blurring of distinction, the expanding of categories, the permeating of borders, the destruction of difference, of uniqueness, of exceptionalism—erases what was. It is a leveling of hierarchies. In excess of inclusion, good and bad become indistinct, much like a half-rotted onion.
This is because concepts as core as “good and bad,” “right and wrong,” “moral and immoral,” “effective and ineffective,” “efficient and inefficient,” and “preferable and nonpreferable,” are products of exclusion.
Anything truly all-inclusive can never be meritocratic nor accurate, nor just, nor moral. If one’s highest value is inclusivity, then he cannot declare any painting more beautiful than another—for all mixtures of paint must be accepted and no mixtures discriminated against. Likewise, if one’s highest value is inclusivity, then he cannot declare any song more moving than another—for all combination and sequence of notes must be accepted and no combination nor sequence discriminated against. The same then must be said for food and for all things.
By trying to include everyone, we destroy the very enterprise in which we meant to include them. By trying to include every aspect of every iteration of ourselves, we become no one rather than anyone at all. We lose balance and stumble off the path.
Instead of trying to be everything and becoming nothing, it is better to look inward and to recognize the borders of oneself. Who are you? What is it you want? What are you capable of? And what are you not? Seek meaning not in externals, but in living out and according to your limitations—they are what shape who you are and who you could become.
Lao-tzu. “Chapter Twelve”. Tao Te Ching; An Authentic Taoist Translation, translated by John Bright-Fey, Sweetwater Press, 2014. pp.21-2
