Found this in the Tao te Ching:
“In the pursuit of learning, every day something is acquired.
In the pursuit of Tao, every day something is dropped.”
From Chapter 48.
When I started off on my so-called Year of Tao, I wasn’t sure what that entailed. I thought I would probably read the TtC everyday (which I am doing) and gain more insights or at least a better sense of it or be confusingly impressed by it (one or another or two or maybe all three of which I think I am doing). I also thought I would be posting some thoughts on what I might be learning. That one, not so much. To even begin to pontificate seems pretentious. Like this for starters: How do I learn if the key is to “unlearn”?
My younger self would have had no hesitation charging in with opinions, but I like to think I’ve learned much since then. But a lot of that learning involved moving myself away from following the Tao. Somewhere in the Bible it talks about putting aside childish things, and that's what I thought I was doing. Being a common-sense rational grownup. I was so proud to do it.
But I begin to have doubts about my so-called adult learned self. Again, I think the Bible talks about being as a little child. (@paperbackwriter, you can flesh this out). And the TtC itself says, "The sage is shy and humble -- to the world he seems confusing./Men look to him and listen./He behaves like a little child."
Chapter 49.
Now I feel myself drawn back, without knowing how to come back. Certainly without being able to clearly articulate it.
But here I go anyway. What the hell is mythical mystical master Lao Tsu saying? For starters there is trust in the way things would happen if left alone, a big thing in the TtC. Jung called it synchronicity. Or as one book back in the 19970’s proclaimed, “Don’t push the river, it flows by itself.”
So I decided to sit back and wait. This morning I saw a book in my library, one I had bought long long ago, and read so much that the spine broke (of course 40 years might cause the glue to dry out in a paperback). Then Iput it away in a box with my other "childish things", to be unpacked only recently . The book is Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, a collection of ancient Zen and pre-Zen writings. (Zen being a cousin or descendant or sibling of Taoism). I opened it and found this as the opening story:
A Cup of Tea:
Nan-in, a Japanese master. . . . recieved a university professor who came to inquire about Zen.
Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor’s cup full and then kept on pouring.
The professor watched the overflow until he could no longer restrain himself. “It is overfull. No more will go in!”
“Like this cup,” Nan-in said, you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup.”
So there’s my first glimmer of answer. My cup runneth over.
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