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THE TAO TEH CHING - part 3 of 5
original filename: taote3-5.txt
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This file is the work of Stan Rosenthal. It has been placed here, with his kind
permission, by Bill Fear. The author has asked that no hard copies, ie. paper
copies, are made.

Stan Rosenthal may be contacted at 44 High street, St. Davids, Pembrokeshire,
Dyfed, Wales, UK. Bill Fear may be contacted at 29 Blackweir Terrace, Cathays,
Cardiff, South Glamorgan, Wales, UK. Tel (0222) 228858 email fear@thor.cf.ac.uk.
Please use email as first method of contact, if possible. Messages can be sent
to Stan Rosenthal via the above email address - they will be forwarded on in
person by myself  -  B.F.

NOTE:
You may find and odd sentence or missing information every now and again in the
files. Hopefully not to frequently. This is because the files were originally
written on a machine using CP/M and had to be converted to dos format. Many of
the 5.25 disks were very old and had bad sectors - thus missing info.
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THE TAO AND ITS NAME

1.   Naming things enables us to differentiate between them, but names are
words, and words easily give rise to confusion.  They do not replace the thing
or direct experience of the thing which they name, but only represent or
describe it.

Consider a thing such as a strawberry.  If we wish to find the word
'strawberry', we look in a dictionary; if we wish to find a description of a
strawberry, we look in an encyclopaedia.  But if we are hungry, we do not go to
the library, but to the field where fine strawberries may be found. If we do not
know where there is such a field, we might seek guidance as to where fine
strawberries may be found.  A book on the Tao is like such a guide.  It can
point us in the direction of the strawberry patch, but cannot provide the fruit
itself.  It can give an idea of the taste of Tao, but of itself, has no taste to
compare with direct experience of the Tao.

Consider now three things: There is the universal principle which enables all
things to be, and to flourish naturally;  there is the name 'Tao', by which that
universal principle is known; and there are words which describe the
manifestations of the Tao.

Even the name 'Tao' is only a convenience, and should not be confused with the
universal principle which bears that name, for such a principle embraces all
things, so cannot be accurately named nor adequately described.  This means that
Tao cannot be understood, for it is infinite, whereas the mind of man is finite,
and that which is finite cannot encompass that which is infinite.

Although we cannot understand Tao, we are not prevented from having knowledge of
it, for understanding stems from one of the two forms of knowledge.  It stems
from that which is called cognitive knowledge, the knowledge born of words and
numbers, and other similar devices.  The other form of knowledge, conative
knowledge, needs no words or other such devices, for it is the form of knowledge
born of direct personal experience. So it is that conative knowledge is also
known as experiential knowledge.

Cognitive  and experiential knowledge both have their roots in reality, but
reality is complex, and complexity is more of a barrier to cognitive knowledge
than it is to experiential knowledge, for when we seek cognitive knowledge of a
thing, that is, understanding of it, the knowledge we gain of that thing is
understanding only of its manifestations, which is not knowledge of the thing
itself.

We may seek to understand a thing, rather than to experience it, because, in a
world beset with man made dangers, it is frequently safer to understand than to
experience.  Tao is not man made, and there is nothing in it to fear.  So it is
that we may experience Tao without fear.

When we cease to seek cognitive knowledge, that is, cease to seek understanding
of a thing, we can gain experiential knowledge of that thing. This is why it is
said that understanding Tao is not the same as knowing Tao; that understanding
Tao is only to know that which it manifests, and that knowing Tao is to be one
with the universal principal which is Tao.  This is to say that knowledge of Tao
is not the same as understanding Tao.  To know Tao is to experience both Tao and
the manifestations of that universal principle.  As human beings, we are born as
manifestations of Tao.

If this seems complex, the reason is because Tao is both simple and complex.  It
is complex when we try to understand it, and simple when we allow ourselves to
experience it.  Trying to understand Tao is like closing the shutters of a
window before looking for a shadow. We might close the shutters to prevent
anyone from discovering our treasure, but the same shutters prevent the
moonlight from entering the room.  All there is in the room is darkness, and in
total darkness we cannot find the shadow, no matter how hard or diligently we
seek.

We call one thing a shadow, and another darkness, but the shadow is darkness,
and the darkness shadow, for in reality, both darkness and shadow are absence of
light, yet we call one shadow and the other darkness.  The shadow is darkness in
the midst of light, but within total darkenss, the shadow seems to disappear,
for darkness is a shadow within shadows.  We may think that the shadow has been
destroyed when all light is removed, but it has not been wiped away; in reality
it has grown, but we need light even to see that form of darkenss which we call
a shadow.

Such is the pursuit of the universal priciple called Tao, that if we seek to
understand it, we prevent the very means by which it may be found, for the only
way in which we might find Tao is through the experience of Tao.  We find Tao
when we do not seek it, and when we seek it, it leaves us, just as the silver
moonlight leaves the room when we close the shutters.   We find and know Tao
when we allow ourselves to find and know it, just as the moonlight returns when
we allow it to return.

We do not need to seek Tao as we seek physical treasures such as jade or gold.
We do not need to seek Tao as we seek such treasures as fame or titles.  We do
not need to seek the treasure of Tao, for although the greatest of treasures, it
is also the most common.  Perhaps it is bacause it is so common that so few men
find it; they seek it only in mysterious and secret places, in chasms and caves,
and in the workplace of the alchemist.  The Tao is not hidden in these places,
and is hidden only from those who frequent and inhabit them, secretively, and
with the shutters closed.

Just as darkness may be known as the absence of light, so to may light be known
as the absence of darkness. When we experience darkness and light as having the
same source, we are close to the Tao, for Tao is the source of both darkness and
light, just as it is also the source of all other natural things.  When we
experience ourselves as part of Tao, as a shadow or reflection of the universal
principle,  we have found it, for it is said that "Experience of Tao is Tao".

1.   KNOWLEDGE OF 'THE TAO', AND EXPERIENCE OF THE TAO.
There is a way in which we may conduct our lives without regrets, and in such a
manner as assists in developing and realizing our individual potential, without
harming others, or inhibiting the realization of their potential, and which is
beneficial to a healthy society.

Such a way of life may of course be conducted without a name, and without
description, but in order that others may know of it, and so as to distinguish
it from other ways in which life may be conducted, we give it a name, and use
words to describe it.

When discussing or describing this way in which life may be conducted, rather
than refer to it in full, for convenience, we refer to it as 'the way', meaning
simply that the discussion is concerned with this particular way, not that it is
the only way of conducting one's life.  In order that we might distinguish it
more easily from other ways, we refer to it also by its original name, which is
'Tao'.
 
By intellectual intent, that is, through thought and words, and by considering
ourselves as non-participating observers of this way of life, we may gain
knowledge of its manifestations; but it is only through participation that we
can actually experience such a way of life for ourselves.

Knowledge of anything is not the same as the thing of which we have that
knowledge.  When we have knowledge of a thing but do not have experience of it,
in trying to describe that thing, all we can describe is our knowledge, not the
thing itself.  Equally, even when we have experience of a thing, all we can
convey is knowledge of that experience, not the experience itself.

Knowledge and experience are both real, but they are different realities, and
their relationship is frequently made complex by what distinguishes them, one
from the other.  When they are used according to that which is appropriate to
the situation, we may develop that way of life which enables us to pass through
the barrier of such complexities.  We may have knowledge of "Tao", but Tao
itself can only be experienced.

2.   LETTING GO OF OPPOSITES.   
It is the nature of the ordinary person, the person who is not yet at one wityh
the Tao, to compare the manifestations of the natural qualities possessed by
things.  Such a person tries to learn of such qualities by distinguishing
between their manifestations, and so learns only of their comparative
manifestations.

So it is that the ordinary person might consider one thing beautiful when
compared with another which he considers to be ugly; one thing skillfully made
compared with another which he considers badly made.  He knows of what he has as
a result of knowing what he does not have, and of that which he considers easy
through that which he considers difficult.  He considers one thing long by
comparing it with another thing which he considers short; one thing high and
another low.  He knows of noise through silence and of silence through noise,
and learns of that which leads through that which follows.

When such comparisons are made by a sage, that is a person who is in harmony
with the Tao, that person is aware of making a judgement, and that judgements
are relative to the person who makes them, and to the situation in which they
are made, as much as they are relative to that which is judged.

Through the experience and knowledge through which he has gained his wisdom, the
sage is aware that all things change, and that a judgement which is right in one
situation might easily be wrong in another situation.  He is therefore aware
that he who seems to lead does not always lead, and that he who seems to follow
does not always follow.

Because of this awareness, the sage frequently seems neither to lead nor follow,
and often seems to do nothing, for that which he does is done without guile; it
is done naturally, being neither easy nor difficult, not big or small.  Because
he accomplishes his task and then lets go of it without seeking credit, he
cannot be discredited. Thus, his teaching lasts for ever, and he is held in high
esteem.

3.   WITHOUT SEEKING ACCLAIM.
The talented person who is also wise, retains humility, and so does not create
rivalry.  The person who possesses material things, and who does not boast of
his possessions, does much to prevent stealing.  Those who are jealous of
talents, skills or possessions of others, easily become possessed themselves by
envy.
 
The sage is satisfied with a sufficiency; he is not jealous, and so is free of
envy.  He does not seek fame and titles, but maintains his energy and keeps
himself supple. He minimizes his desires, and does not train himself in guile.
He thus remains pure at heart. By acting in an uncontrived manner, the harmony
of the inner world of his thoughts and the external world of his environment is
maintained.  He remains at peace with himself.

For these reasons, an administration which is concerned with the welfare of
those whom it serves,  does not encourage the seeking of status and titles; it
does not create jealousy and rivalry amongst the people, but ensures that they
are able to have a sufficiency, without causing them to become discontent,
therefore the members of such an administration do not seek honours for
themselves, nor act with guile towards the people.

4.   THE UNFATHOMABLE TAO.   
The mind should not be filled with desires.  The individual who is at one with
the Tao is aware of the distinction  between that which is needed as a
sufficiency, and that which is a desire, or merely wanted rather than needed.

It is the manner of the Tao that even though continuously used, it is naturally
replenished, never being emptied, and never being as full as a goblet which is
filled to the brim and therefore spills its fine spring water upon the ground.
The Tao therefore does not waste that with which it is charged, yet always
remains a source of nourishment for those who are not already so full that they
cannot partake of it.

Even the finest blade will lose its sharpeness if tempered beyond its mettle.
Even the most finely tempered sword is of no avail against water, and will
shatter if struck against a rock.  A tangled cord is of little use after it has
been untangled by cutting it.

Just as a fine sword should be used only by an experienced swordsman, intellect
should be tempered with experience.  By this means, tangled cord may be
untangled, and seemingly insoluable problems resolved;  colours and  hues may be
harmonized to create fine paintings, and people enabled to exist in unity with
each other because they no longer feel that they exist only in the shadow of the
brilliance of others.

To conduct oneself without guile is to conduct oneself in a natural manner, and
to do this is to be in contact with nature.  By maintaining awareness of the way
of nature, the wise person becomes aware of the Tao, and so becomes aware that
this is how its seemingly unfathomable mysteries may be experienced.

5.   TRANQUIL BUT UNCEASING.
Those things which are in opposition with each other are not benevolent towards
each other, and may even treat each other with contempt or malevolence.

Although the creatures which are born of nature may be in opposition with each
other, nature itself is in opposition to nothing for there is nothing for it to
oppose.  It acts without conscious intention, and it is therefore neither
deliberately benevolent, contemptuous nor malevolent.

In this respect the way of the Tao is the same as the way of nature.  Therefore,
even when acting in a benevolent manner, the sage does not act from any
conscious desire to be benevolent.

Through his manner of breathing like a babe, he remains free of conscious
desire, and so retains his tranquility.  By this means he is empty of desire,
and his energy is not drained from him.

2.   THE MANIFESTATION OF TAO THROUGH COMPLIMENTARY OPPOSITES
All physical things possess certain natural qualities, such as size, shape and
colour. Since the universal principle encompasses all things, so it encompasses
their natural qualities.

Being possessed by all things, natural qualities are general to all things, but
in order to relate to a quality, we think of it as it exists relative to a
particular thing, and to ourselves.  We therefore think of and describe a
quality according to how it is manifested through one particular thing compared
with another. Thus, we judge one thing to be big, compared with another thing,
which we think of as small; one person young, and another old; one sound noisy,
and another quiet.  Equally, we judge and compare by thinking of the aesthetic
quality in terms of its manifestations, 'beautiful' or 'ugly'; morality in terms
of good or bad; possession in terms of having or not having; ability in terms of
ease or difficulty;  length in terms of long or short; height in terms of high
or low; sound in terms of noisy or quiet; light in terms of brightness or
darkness.

Although many of the manifestations which we compare are judged by us to be
opposites, one to the other, they are not in opposition, but are complimentary,
for even extremes are nothing other than aspects or specific examples of the
quality which encompasses them.  Both big and small are manifestations or
examples of size, young and old are examples of age, noise and quietness are
aspects of sound, and brightness and darkness are extremes of light.

It is the nature of the ordinary man to compare and judge the manifestations of
the naturally occurring qualities inherent in things and in situations.  It is
not wrong to do this, but we should not delude ourselves into believing that we
thereby describe the quality rather than a manifestation of the quality.

Whilst all judgements are comparative, a judgement is frequently, if not always,
relative to the individual who makes that judgement, and also to the time at
which it is made. To the young child, the father may be old, but when the son
reaches that age, it is unlikely that he will consider himself old. To the
child, the garden fence is high, but when the child grows bigger, the same fence
is low.  The adult in his physical prime knows that to run ten miles, which is
easy at that time, will become more difficult as he becomes older, but that that
the patience required to walk will become easier.

The sage knows that qualitative judgements, such as old and young, big and
small, easy and difficult, or leading and following, relate as much to the
person who makes that judgement, as they relate to the thing or action
described.  Consider a sage and an ordinary man sitting on a hill in the late
evening, looking down on the road below.  When darkness has fallen, they both
see the light of two lanterns approaching, one yellow, the other red, bobbing
gently as their bearers pass by. From the positions of the two lights, the
ordinary man knows that the bearer of the yellow lantern leads the bearer of the
red.  As he watches, he sees the red  lantern draw level with the yellow, and as
they pass beneath him, the red lantern preceding the yellow.

The ordinary man wonders why the two lantern bearers do not walk side by side.
The sage, who has seen what his companion has seen, thinks it right that the two
travellers should do as they have done, to walk side by side through the night,
neither leading and neither following the other.

The sage is aware that he who seems to lead does not always lead, and that he
who seems to follow does not always follow.  Because of this, the sage
frequently seems neither to lead nor follow, and often seems to do nothing, for
that which he does is natural, being neither easy nor difficult, not big or
small.

Those changes which occur naturally in life, the sage accepts as natural,
accepting them as an opportunity for learning, whilst realizing that knowledge
is not his possession.  Because he knows that the credit for learning is due to
the willingness of the student, he teaches without teaching, but by allowing his
students to observe the virtue of observing natural qualities, rather than only
comparing and judging their manifestations.  He does this without seeking
credit, and continues without contriving to be given credit.  Because of this,
his teaching lasts for ever, and he is held in high esteem.

The gifted person retains humility and thus prevents jealousy.  The person who
does not boast of his possessions prevents stealing.  Only those who have greed
are perplexed by envy. The wise person is therefore satisfied with a
sufficiency, and is free of envy.  He does not seek fame and titles, but keeps
himself strong and supple.  He minimizes his desires, and does not train himself
in guile.  He thus remains pure at heart.  By acting in an uncontrived manner he
maintains his inner harmony.

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