I know, I know, the Tao that can be spoken of is not the constant Tao. The Chinese literally translates to ‘way can speak, not constant way’ (道可道, 非常道). Thus, anything I say beyond that is not the constant, but rather tentative. Even saying that is not the constant. Our mind is capable of perceptions more profound than our thoughts or speech can articulate. So our thoughts and speech always end up beating around the bush. (Although, beating around the bush does flush revelation out of the bush at times.)
The Tao Te Ching does says this much: the tao models itself on that which is naturally so (道法自然). I see nature as the ‘big picture’ word for “that which is naturally so”. Likewise, I see balance as a ‘big picture’ word for nature. From atoms to galaxies, natural processes seek balance. This seems integral to nature’s scheme. When balance is lost, ‘things happen’ until balance reestablishes and stillness returns. Certainly life’s biological processes all seek balance – homeostasis, i.e., (a state of equilibrium or a tendency to reach equilibrium, either metabolically within a cell or organism or socially and psychologically within an individual or group).
Clearly then, ‘the tao’ and balance are closely related. ‘The tao’ models itself on that which is naturally so; balance is the fulcrum upon which nature’s naturally so plays itself out. Consequently, knowing the nature of balance should give insight into the nature of ‘the tao’. Now the question is, how do we know balance when we see it? How do we know the ‘balance’ we see is truly balanced? Certainly, it is easy to see physical balance, e.g., standing on one leg and such. However, balance is profoundly more subtle when considering the ‘big picture’ meta-whole, as I will attempt to demonstrate at the end.
Efficiency is another ‘big picture’ word for nature. As I see it, nature is nothing if not efficient as she flow through time. But, like balance, efficiency in the ‘big picture’ is subtle as well. What often seems efficient to us in the short term (narrow view) is extremely inefficient is the long run. We excel at ‘false efficiency’ with a tendency to willfully innovate while ignorant of the constant (不知常, 妄作凶). For example, housing projects, unbridled technologies, processed foods, mono crop farming, fishing the seas, etc., are pseudo efficient solutions that entail unintended unbalancing consequences. Without a doubt, efficiency without balance is in-efficient and ill-fated. Nature will ceaselessly struggle to rebalance circumstances until false efficiency is replaced with balanced efficiency.
Is living an efficient and balanced life possible?
So far, I have only found this possibility existing ‘here and now’. Careful attentiveness, moment to moment, is the only way I know to notice when my life starts becoming inefficient and unbalanced. The only time I lose that moment to moment watchfulness is when my mind’s eye jumps ahead and out of the moment to an imagined need (desire) or an imagined fear (worry). Of course, need and fear do boost efficiency and balance, but only as long as I know when it is time to stop (知止).
The difficulty encountered when entering ‘the moment’ are two fold: ’focus’ and ‘big space’. Stimuli in the environment awakens attentiveness when it rises above the threshold of awareness. The difficulty here is that focus easily becomes blindingly narrow. On the other hand, when stimuli is absent, attentiveness wanes and wanders off into space.
Too much focus and too much space, are both problematic. Of the two, too much space is probably the greatest innate weakness. Wandering attention enables a predator to take its prey, and thin the heard. Constant awareness, on balance, favors life survival. ‘You snooze, you loose’ as they say. Notice, for example, how birds are always on the lookout for predators.
Essentially, it takes courage (of sorts) to stay awake rather than let the mind wander off. Personally, the idea of fearless in being timid (勇於不敢) speaks to this. When I am ‘fearless in being timid’, I can wait and watch the ‘big space’, the shape that has no shape, the image that is without substance (無狀之狀, 無物之象). The obvious spiritual ideal comes to mind: Stay awake in the moment even without external stimuli. As nice as that ideal sounds, can we really do it? Sure, to some extent. As chapter 71 puts it, it is by being alive to difficulty that one can avoid it. In other words, maintain an ongoing sense of apprehension as if fording a river in winter. If I remain awake to the difficulty of remaining awake, I avoid that difficulty at least somewhat.
Jumping into the deep end
All things (万物) travel a path whose ‘end’ point is perfect balance (Great perfection). Traveling this path, all things ebb and flow, veer left and right, rise and fall, live and die, strengthen and weaken, struggle and surrender, etc., as they continue on the way.
This ‘end’ is not a thing, or a place, or a time, or even an end per se. The ‘end’ I refer to is nothing, and thus no thing will ever arrive ‘there’. In other words, nothing can ever arrive because all things are at the beginning of each moment. Yet, the beginning of each moment is the ‘end’ of each moment – nothing produces something and visa versa. You could say this end is this beginning is this end… and so on. I know this is starting to sound like nonsense, but that’s a good thing in this case.
Now consider the words needed to say this nonsense. Begin and end, live and die, struggle and surrender, awake and snooze… each are poles apart (yin and yang) and not the balanced ‘golden middle’. The ‘end’ is balance. The way to that ‘end’ is via extremes – poles of yin and yang – and the journey is endless because we are already there. Huh? Balance is unbalanced if it lacks a degree of unbalance. In other words, balance and unbalance are also extremes – poles of yin and yang – and so require each other. Thus, to paraphrase the great Taoist disclaimer, “the balance that can be named is not the constant balance“.
When there is a lot of ‘rebalancing’ going on in our lives, life feels unbalanced and kind of nasty, depressed or stressed. However, in the ‘big picture’ all is well and proceeding as nature intends; it just doesn’t feel that way. Our feelings are part of the dynamic; they create the ebb and flow, the balance and unbalance which is integral to nature. Our lives are ‘naturally so’, even when they feel like crap. So, just put a smile on your face, a song on your lips and be happy… to be sad (or visa versa of course).
Here are a few correlations to tie up loose ends and no doubt create new ones. Note how end is in both categories depending on what antonym it is paired with.
| ~Active~ | ~Passive~ |
| end | continue |
| begin | end |
| difference | similarity |
| illusion | real |
| life | death |
| linear | circular |
| movement | stillness |
| new | old |
| rise | fall |
| strengthen | weaken |
| struggle | surrender |
| temporal | eternal |
| unbalance | balance |
| yang | yin |

following a Way has, now brought me here. Greetings. Before looking any further into what #20 means, I presume the TTC verse with an almost harrowing sense of anome and retreat into the arms of “the mother”- the Tao. This verse has always stood unique: “only I am dark”
Carl,
“I know, I know ..” LOL
Aren’t you fighting fire with fire? All these words and concepts in order to support an analysis of how to escape the harmful effect of conceptual thinking with words.
I’m reminded of something I picked up in a creative writing course many years ago (the only thing I picked up): The power of fiction to communicate lies in “showing” rather than “tellng”. A textbook “tells” us what’s going on, a novel “shows” us.
As such, the raison d’être of poetry is that for many aspects of life, an understanding cannot be “told” and the best way to help someone grasp it is to try to “show” it.
I think the Tao Te Ching is using poetry to show us. And one thing it is trying to show us is that “telling” the truth won’t get us anywhere.
Hey, how about science? Fiction and poetry deal with emotions and feeling, while science takes a more rigorous cognitive approach. I am drawn more the later, and so use a ’scientific’ path (i.e., science in its broadest sense from the Latin scientia, meaning “knowledge”) .
Actually, I don’t see anyway to “help someone grasp” anything in this shadowy arena. The more shadowy the arena, the more we interpret what we hear to conform to what we want it to mean. Thus, I reckon a scientific approach is at least as effective as any other.
In any case, I don’t see myself as “telling” anyone anything. At best, like a spokesman, I am putting into words what another may already know, yet can’t find the words to express. At worst, I am just talking ‘out loud’ to myself.
Of course, this is also true of poetry and fiction. For these to resonate, a listener or reader must already intuitively know (often via cultural conditioning). Speakers and writers simply serve as spokesmen. It is also noteworthy that poetry and fiction resonate more easily to more people than science, accounting, math or even history. I imagine that is because, like any art, interpretation is completely in the eye of the beholder.
Finally, doesn’t it really all boil down to the social instinct, no matter what the vehicle or the message? If we were monkeys, I’d be nit picking instead – literally rather than figuratively as I’m doing here. Or, if we were dogs I’d be sniffing your butt instead. Well! How fortunate I’m not a dog.
What is the difference? When the Tao Te Ching begins with ‘‘way can speak, not constant way’ (道可道, 非常道), is that not “telling” it like it is? It couldn’t be more blunt and direct. It flat out “tells” us the truth. Ironically, isn’t it also actually “telling” us that words won’t get us the truth, regardless of whether we’re “telling” or “showing”? For example:
To use words but rarely is to be natural
Only when it is cut are there names. As soon as there are names one ought to know that it is time to stop.
One who knows does not speak; one who speaks does not know
Truthful words are not beautiful; beautiful words are not truthful. Good words are not persuasive; persuasive words are not good.
The Tao Te Ching ignores the essential, instinct driven role that speaking, in general plays, in social life. The Tao Te Ching just keeps on message: Speaking can’t convey truth. If speaking has nothing to do with truth anymore than nitpicking does for monkeys, what does? To paraphrase: True and false produce each other. So, how can I believe in either? I find the less I trust words to represent truth, the whole matter of truth becomes a non issue. All that remains is the instinctive driven role that speaking (whether I’m “telling” or “showing”) plays in my social life. Well, now that I got that off my chest I’ll go tend to the garden before it starts raining.
Look what I found in your commentary on Chapter 43:
“A few words said and then allowing time and nature to take its course is like a teaching that uses no words”
http://www.centertao.org/tao-te-ching/dc-lau/#chapter-1
FWIW. My definitions:
“Telling” is explaining. It’s all about why.
“Showing” is describing It’s all about what is.
You can point to a tree with a word, but as to why it’s there – that has to use concepts that are only in your mind.
Pointing to a tree does nothing to assist you dealing with the tree in the practical real world day to day. The why, what, how, when of the tree allows you the sense of management: Deal with a thing while it is still nothing requires a sense of the scale and time of that ‘thing’, whether it is your life or a tree about to be blown over onto your home during a storm (and so like a stitch in time you trim it back).
The reason we are at the top of the food chain is because we think and attempt to “explain” to ourselves what is going on. The reason we are as unhappy as we are at the top of the food chain is that we believe what we think (i.e., think that we know) – to a fault!
Aren’t you throwing the baby out with the bathwater by drawing such a fine line between “telling”, “showing”, “pointing” and what not? The way I see it, all three are essentially the same. It is not the “concepts” that are our problem, it is putting all our trust eggs in that basket that blinds us.