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Balance: Ancient Chinese Wisdom and Modern Western Culture

Rev. Stephanie C. Barnett

Staff Chaplain St. Luke’s Hospital Allentown Campus

Associated Minister at the Unitarian Universalist Church of the Lehigh Valley

 June 24, 2007

The tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao.  The name that can be named is not the eternal Name.  The unnamable is the eternally real.  Naming is the origin of all particular things.  Free from desire, you realize the mystery.  Caught in desire, you see only the manifestations.  Yet mystery and manifestations arise from the same source.  This source is called darkness.  Darkness within darkness. The gateway to all understanding.

These are the opening words of the Tao Te Ching, or The Book of the Way and How it Manifests Itself in the World, a collection of sayings written more than 2500 years ago and attributed to Lao Tzu.  Very little is known about Lao Tzu, he may have been an older contemporary of Confucius and he may have been an archivist in one of the small Chinese kingdoms at that time.  It is also possible that he did not exist at all, but rather has come to represent a collection of authors whose words of wisdom have trickled down through the ages.  It is not especially important to know who wrote these words; in fact Taoist thought would say it was completely unimportant.  So let us turn our attention to the words themselves.

Taoism teaches that we cannot fully comprehend the Tao because it is beyond our understanding.  It is so many things, and exists in so many ways that as soon as we put a name to it, as soon as we put it into a box we have already restricted what Tao is and we have already missed the point.  Taoism is a way of being and at the same time of not being.  It is a paradox, it is about truly accepting who we are; what we can and can not do; and what is and is not truly important.

We must seek to be who we are meant to be, this sounds incredibly simple, but it is something that we as humans struggle with on a daily basis.  We do not know who we are and so we can not be who we are meant to be.  We decide at a young age what we want to be a doctor, a lawyer, a plumber, a teacher, whatever decision we make at that young age informs our life choices and that is who we try to become.  Taoism asks us to reverse this process, to look at who we are and to be who we are, not who we wish we were.  This idea is further outlined in a story which can be found in a delightfully simple book called The Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff which uses the characters of the Winnie the Pooh story to outline the basic tenets of Taoism.

From the writings of Chuang-tse we read that Hui-tse said to Chuang-tse, “I have a large tree which no carpenter can cut into lumber.  Its branches and trunk are crooked and tough, covered with bumps and depressions.  No builder would turn his head to look at it.  Your teachings are the same – useless, without value.  Therefore, no one pays attention to them.” 

“As you know,” Chuang-tse replied, “a cat is very skilled at capturing its prey.  Crouching low, it can leap in any direction, pursuing whatever it is after.  But when its attention is focused on such things, it can be easily caught with a net.  On the other hand, a huge yak is not easily caught or overcome.  It stands like a stone, or a cloud in the sky.  But for all its strength, it cannot catch a mouse.  You complain that your tree in not valuable as lumber.  But you could make use of the shade it provides, rest under its sheltering branches, and stroll beneath it, admiring its character and appearance.  Since it would not be endangered by an axe, what could threaten its existence?  It is useless to you only because you want to make it into something else and do not use it in its proper way.”

For us, living in the modern western world it is a question of balance.  It is about looking within to find who we truly are and balancing that with the demands that the modern world places upon us.  Demands to get a good job and make lots of money, demands to find a partner and create a home with pets and perhaps children.  Demands to retire at a certain age and then still find ways to contribute to society; these are the demands which constantly make it difficult to find and follow our true path.

But what does it look like to be balanced, what does that mean?  The Tao te Ching tells us: The supreme good is like water, which nourishes all things without trying to.  It is content with the low places that people disdain.  Thus it is like the Tao.  In dwelling, live close to the ground.  In thinking, keep to the simple.  In conflict, be fair and generous.  In governing, don’t try to control.  In work, do what you enjoy.  In family life, be completely present.  When you are content to be simply yourself and don’t compare or compete, everybody will respect you.  In other words, you will be balanced.  So how do we find balance between these two seemingly opposite worlds?

Taoist thought would tell us to look at Wei wu wei or doing not-doing.  This concept, like that of balance, is very simple.  But for those of us who have grown up in a Modern Western World these are foreign and complex concepts.  Not-doing is a state of being when one is completely in balance and completely in touch with one’s place in the universe.

Now, what does all of this mean, how can one do not-doing.  Friends, bear with me, I assure you I have not lost my mind.  Let us for a moment create an image in our minds.  Picture a large clear glass bowl; wide enough to hold a large pizza and deep enough to hold a two liter bottle of soda upright.  Now imagine filling the bowl half-way with crystal clear water.  Take a single piece of cork, perhaps from a wine bottle or an old pair of cork sandals and place the cork in the water.  See how the cork floats effortlessly on the water.

Now push the cork under the water, and what happens, it returns to the top.  Do it again, and again the cork returns to the top.  Now if you were to repeat this process for one hour you would become quite tired, and the cork would remain completely unchanged.  In this example we were doing something, we were pushing the cork, exerting force against it.  The cork however was doing not-doing, it was simply responding without force as is its nature. 

The same principle is found in Tai Chi.  It is a martial art of yielding, of doing not-doing.  Instead of exerting force against force it is an art of moving out of the way, of yielding to and redirecting negative energy; in the same manner that the cork moves and then returns to its former location so does the master of Tai Chi.  This concept is often confused in the West with the idea of passivity.  We see the cork and the Tai Chi Master as passive; victims in a world that they are unable to control.  Chinese classical wisdom on the other hand would see both as masters of their own dominion.  When we see a lack of power and a lack of control, the Chinese see a great deal of power and complete control.  This for us necessitates a paradigm shift.

For the cork; the world is one of water and one of aggressive finger pointing and pushing.  The cork responds by gently floating on the water and when pushed by the finger the cork simply returns to its spot until the finger becomes too tired to push back.  The same is true for the Tai Chi Master.

Taoism teaches that we are like the cork; we are the small specs in the large bowl of water.  We are the ones who must learn to bend and to float in our environment.  However, we see ourselves as the water and the finger.  We see the world as something to be conquered and bent to our will.  It quite simply is not.  We can only live in harmony when we come to realize our true place within the world.  Taoism is about balance; it is about perfect harmony.  We, as humans, are a small part of a much larger cosmic existence and when we learn to live in balance with the rest of that existence we will live in harmony.  This is not easy, if it were we would have done it by now.  We must look within, it find within us our true selves so that we can function as if we were not functioning.  So that it is second nature to us.  It is a way of living such that those things which are most valued; being kind to one another, creating a better society, respecting the inherent worth and dignity of all people are as simple as breathing in and out.  In the words of Lao-tzu:  If there is to be peace in the world, there must be peace in the nations.  If there is to be peace in the nations, there must be peace in the cities.  If there is to be peace in the cities, there must be peace between neighbors.  If there is to be peace between neighbors, there must be peace in the home.  If there is to be peace in the home, there must be peace in the heart.

©2007 Rev. Stephanie C. Barnett