Month: June 2004

Tao Teh Ching: Chapter 64

For awhile yesterday I toyed with the idea of searching all the links that pf provided yesterday and choosing what I felt was the best translation of section 64 and then presenting that version here instead of offering the two different versions as I have been doing here. After a few hours lost in the land of Tao, I realized that I had no real basis for making that decision other than my inner ear for poetry.

That started me off on another tangent, as I made my way to Amazon to see what editions of the Tao Teh Ching were available. I was a little taken aback as I reviewed the possibilities. What I ended up doing was ordering three very different versions of the Tao Teh Ching, one by John C.H. Wu, one by Red Pine, and one by Ursula Le Guin, all for very different reasons. The one by Wu seemed to be generally regarded as the most “scholarly” edition available, I own three Chinese classics that have been translated by Red Pine and have enjoyed all of them, and, coincidentally, I have two books of short stories by Le Guin waiting to be read, though that’s a long story I’ll share another time. Hopefully those three editions will give me a better appreciation of the Tao Teh Ching.

For the moment, though, I’ve decided to trust the wisdom of my college instructor and finish this look at the Tao the way I began.

Here’s de Grazzia’s translation of chapter 64:

What remains still is easy to hold.
What is not yet manifest is easy to plan for.
What is brittle is easy to crack.
What is minute is easy to scatter.
Deal with things before they appear.
Put things in order before disorder arises.
A tree as big as a man’s embrace grows from a tiny shoot.
A tower of nine storeys begins with a heap of earth.
The journey of a thousand Ii starts from where one stands.
He who takes an action fails.
He who grasps things loses them.
For this reason the sage takes no action and therefore does not fail.
He grasps nothing and therefore he does not lose anything.
People in their handling of affairs often fail when they are about to succeed.
If one remains as careful at the end as he was at the beginning,
there will be no failure.
Therefore the sage desires to have no desire.
He does not value rare treasures.
He learns to be unlearned, and returns to what the multitude has missed.
Thus he supports all things in their natural state but does not take any action.

and here’s Van Over’s translation:

Guarding the Minute

That which is at rest is easily kept hold of; before a thing has given indications of its presence, it is easy to take measures against it; that which is brittle is easily broken; that which is very small is easily dispersed. Action should be taken before a thing has made its appearance; order should he secured before disorder has begun.

The tree which fills the arms grew from the tiniest sprout; the tower of nine stories rose from a (small) heap of earth; the journey of a thousand li commenced with a single step.

He who acts (with an ulterior purpose) does harm; he who takes hold of a thing (in the same way) loses his hold. The sage does not act (so), and therefore does no harm; he does not lay hold (so), and therefore does not lose his hold. (But) people in their conduct of affairs are constantly ruining them when they are on the eve of success. If they were careful at the end, as (they should be) at the beginning, they would not so ruin them.

Therefore the sage desires what (other men) do not desire, and does not prize things difficult to get; he learns what (other men) do not learn, and turns back to what the multitude of men have passed by. Thus he helps the natural development of all things, and does not dare to act (with an ulterior purpose of his own).

While I certainly appreciate and understand the wisdom of the first passage, I’ll let this picture of my study provide my comment on how well I actually follow that advice:

As a life-long gardener I certainly appreciate the wisdom of pulling weeds before they become miniature trees.

Unfortunately as a teacher I also discovered that the busiest time of the year also coincided with the ideal time for weeds to germinate and thrive. The complex web of obligations we weave for ourselves make it difficult to practice true wisdom, but if such advice was necessary before the birth of Christ perhaps it has always been so.

My favorite line is probably “He who grasps things loses them” for it occurs to me that those who want the most, have the least, and we could all do far worse than to remember that “” the sage desires to have no desire.” Not wanting something, at least something material, is the same as having it, and probably preferable, because things, like people, bring their own obligations with them.

As a lover of literature, I’m pretty sure I’m violating the principle of “He learns to be unlearned,” and ordering three new copies of the Tao Teh Ching probably proves that beyond a doubt.

Tao Teh Ching: Chapter 38

Perhaps the most obvious indication that a work is a great work is that it seems relevant to the life you’re living no matter when you read it. I underlined and commented on this section when I read it twenty years ago, and yet it almost seems ripped out of today’s headlines

de Grazia translates Chapter 38 of the Tao Teh Ching:

The man of superior virtue is not [conscious of] his virtue,
And in this way he really possesses virtue.
The man of inferior virtue never loses [sight of] his virtue,
And in this way he loses his virtue.
The man of superior virtue takes no action, but has no ulterior motive to do so.
The man of inferior virtue takes action, and has an ulterior motive to do so.
The man of superior humanity takes action, but has no ulterior motive to do so.
The man of superior righteousness takes action, and has an ulterior motive to do so.
The man of superior propriety takes action,
And when people do not respond to it, he will stretch his arms and force it on them.
Therefore, only when the Tao is lost does the doctrine of virtue arise
When virtue is lost only then does the doctrine of humanity arise.
When humanity is lost only then does the doctrine of righteousness arise.
When righteousness is lost, only then does the doctrine of ritual arise.
Now ritual is a superficial expression of loyalty and faithfulness and the beginning of disorder.
Those who are the first to know have the flowers [appearance] of Tao but also the beginning of ignorance
For this reason the great man dwells in the thick [substantial], and does not rest with the thin [superficial].
He dwells in the fruit [reality], and does not rest with the flower [appearance].
Therefore he rejects that, and accepts this

while Van Over translates the same section:

About the Attributes

(Those who) possessed in highest degree the attributes (of the Tao) did not (seek) to show them, and therefore they possessed them (in fullest measure). (Those who) possesses in a lower degree those attributes (sought how) not to lose them, and therefore they did not possess them (in fullest measure).

(Those who) possessed in the highest degree those attributes did nothing (with a purpose), and had no need to do anything. (Those who) possessed them in a lower degree were (always) doing, and had need to be so doing.

(Those who) possessed the highest benevolence were (always seeking) to carry it out, and had no need to be doing so. (Those who) possessed the highest righteousness were (always seeking) to carry it out, and had need to be so doing.

(Those who) possessed the highest (sense of) propriety were (always seeking) to show it, and when men did not respond to it, they bared the arm and marched up to them.

Thus it was that when the Tao was lost, its attributes appeared; when its attributes were lost, benevolence appeared; when benevolence was lost, righteousness appeared; and when righteousness was lost, the proprieties appeared.

Now propriety is the attenuated form of leal-heartedness and good faith, and is also the commencement of disorder; swift apprehension is (only) a flower of the Tao, and is the beginning of stupidity.

Thus it is that the Great man abides by what is solid, and eschews what is flimsy; dwells with the fruit and not with the flower. It is thus that he puts away the one and makes choice of the other.

I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who I felt was a “true” Christian I didn’t like, admire, and, perhaps, even, envy a little. They were invariably people who went out of their way to help others and who, though they attended church regularly, made little or nothing of being “Christian” because for them it was simply a given.

On the other hand, I have little regard for those who make a show of their “Christianity.” I often suspect they must doubt their own beliefs when they feel a need to attack those who don’t believe exactly what they believe and worship exactly the same way they do.

This section also reminds me that Jesus said “when thou prayest, enter into thy closet” and admonished against praying in public, probably for the very same reasons stated here. Those who truly believe and act according to their beliefs do not need ritual to insure their faith.

Avoiding hypocrisy may not fall under the Ten Commandments, but may well be the greatest danger in religion since it’s far easier to advocate religious principles than it is to live them.

Of course, it’s not much of a stretch to apply the principles of the Tao Teh Ching to other concepts like patriotism, for instance. When “Patriotism” is wielded like a sword to silence those who oppose current policies or to force dissidents to conform to the prevalent view, it undermines the true needs of the country while simultaneously promoting a false sense of well-being that may actually be the greatest threat of all.

No wonder Taoists taught these principles as the proper way to rule the Empire.

Tao Teh Ching: Chapter 11

The more I read Japanese poetry the more I find myself looking back at Chinese influences in order to understand the underlying ideas. For that reason, recent purchases include not only translations of Basho and Buson, but translations of much earlier Chinese writers like Meng Hao-jan, Cold Mountain and Stonehouse.

Before beginning to read these works, though, I felt a need to go back and review some of the material I covered in my grad classes on Chinese literature. In particular, I felt a need to review the ideas in the Tao Teh Ching, that seminal work of Chinese Taoism. It is a work that nearly stunned me with its radical concepts, at least radical to my western mind, when I first read it twenty years ago, and it still seems almost startlingly new as I re-read it today because it expresses a mindset diametrically opposed to much of what is found in western philosophy.

Although I prefer the poetic presentation of the Tao found in Sebastian de Grazia’s Masters of Chinese Political Thought, I decided to also consider the prose translation offered by Raymond Van Over in Chinese Mystics, because it is, after all, the meaning of the idea behind the words that it is most important.

I still remember being struck by the striking metaphors found in Chapter 11.
Grazia translates it:

Thirty spokes are united around the hub to make the wheel,
But it is on the non-being [the area of the circle] that the utility of the wheel depends.
Clay is molded to form a utensil,
But it is on the non-being [its hollowness] that the utility of the utensil depends.
Doors and windows are cut to make a room,
But it is on the non-being [its empty space] that the utility of the room depends.
Therefore turn being into advantage, and turn non-being into utility.

Van Over translates it:

The Use of What Has no Substantive Existence

The thirty spokes unite in the one nave; but it is on the empty space (for the axle), that the use of the wheel depends. Clay is fashioned into vessels; but it is on their empty hollowness, that their use depends. The doors and windows are cut out (from the walls) to form an apartment; but it is on the empty space (within), that it’s use depends. Therefore, what has a (positive) existence serves for profitable adaptation, and what has not that for (actual) usefulness.

In one sense, at least, this made perfect sense to me because when it comes to architecture it always seemed to me that in the best work “form followed function.” The best design is the simplest design that effectively fulfills the object’s function. Eliminate the clutter and you have Shaker or Danish modern furniture, personal favorites.

That may also explain why my favorite cooking utensils are still an old-fashioned carbon-steel Chinese wok, without a non-stick surface, thank you, and a simple carbon steel, medium-weight cleaver that is carefully honed before each use.

On a more important level, of course, such lines establish the philosophical basis for meditation, a form of non-thinking generally neglected or rejected in the Western world. After all, what could be a greater waste of time than sitting around thinking about nothing? If you’re going to be wasting time, you at least need to be out and about doing something, spending money on a hyperactive video game (which I, unfortunately, do happen to be fond of) or, better yet, roaring across the water on the latest, greatest version of a Skidoo, which, perhaps, irony of ironies, generally seems to be a product of the Far-East rather than the West.

Too often even when meditation is endorsed, it is endorsed because it refreshes the individual enabling him to think more clearly and accomplish more in the future. The ultimate goal still remains to “get things done.”

What would happen if we turned the western world on end and argued that the greatest value of having money is simply to allow the individual time to meditate, to allow the individual to escape worry long enough to find the inner silence that is at the heart of true wisdom? Perhaps the greatest value of money isn’t the ability to acquire things, but, instead, to free man from the need to acquire things, to allow the individual to simply “be” free.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Despite the fact that it’s been a particularly tough year for the Seattle Mariners, already trailing the division leaders by 12 1/2 games, we (or perhaps, I) decided that we needed to get out and support them when we recently watched a televised game with a half-full stadium, a relatively rare phenomena here in the Northwest in the last few years.

So, today after a short drive to Seattle we ended up at:

and spent a rather delightful day watching

and Brett Boone lead the Mariners to a 8-1 victory over Montreal and complete their first series sweep of the season.

I’m not sure that this is really a sign of better things to come, but at least I feel better knowing that I supported the team, winning or not.

Now I can go back to the relative comfort of watching them on television at home and retreating to the comfort of my computer when I get disgusted with their inability to produce run even after a pitcher has pitched eight innings of shut-out baseball.