The old lady on the road was right. I probably knew more about China than most foreigners, but I had still barely scratched the surface. But, I was discovering words and ideas on my “journey” that I kept bumping into, no matter where I was in China, and many of them led back to Lǎo zǐ (老子) and the Dào Dé Jīng (道德经), that 5000 character, 81 chapter canon which forms the foundation of Daoism a.k.a. Taoism. There is something compelling and homegrown about the character “道 dào”, which translates as “path” or “way”. Growing up in the West where the scientific method makes one search for answers. Paths and ways must have beginnings and end points. . . mustn’t they? Yet, according to the Dao De Jing, 有 “yǒu”（to have） and 無 “wú” (to lack) are born from one another. Difficult and easy complement each other. It is only because people accept certain ideas of beauty, that the concept of ugliness even exists. Does contrast define? Can there be a path with no beginning and no end point?
Laozi forced me to think differently. The lessons are often simple and profound which makes them even more difficult to translate into English. Take for example, wú wéi (無爲 ). Wu wei is often translated as “non-action”, but what is action? Is it movement? Can you be involved in “action” without instigating or influencing action? Wu wei does not mean non-doing or non-action, but rather not attempting to influence action.” Sort of a ‘go with the flow.’ Indeed, Laozi said that the highest good was like water. Water is content with wherever it is. But even when water moves, it is never the instigator of the move. Water is powerful like the Dao.
Laozi said that the space where there is nothing is the most important space. It is into the space of a cup where there is nothing that tea is poured. It is into the space where there is nothing that light flows into a building. And it is into the space where there is nothing that a wheel moves into. Just as we appreciate and take advantage of what is, we should also recognize the usefulness of what is not.
In the Dao De Jing, we are introduced to the simplicity and the power of the “uncarved block” and asked to question both wisdom and knowledge and to embrace selflessness and lessening of desire. Once the block is carved, there will be names. Like Zhuangzi’s “ugly tree” (see CO 2), Laozi believes that straight only manifested itself next to the crooked, that it was the hollow that could be made full, and that one can be defined without defining oneself. Laozi warns us that we should not tamper with Heaven and that those who tamper with it, lose it. One does not glorify nor boast about what one has done. One of my favorite passages is where Laozi said that when Dao was lost, only power remained. When power dissipated, there was human kindness; after human kindness left, there was morality; and then ritual. Laozi said that ritual was “the mere husk of loyalty and promise keeping” and eventually led to brawling which is “the beginning of folly.” (Laozi and Arthur Waley. The Way and Its Power: A Study of the Tao Tê Ching and Its Place in Chinese Thought. New York: Grove Press, 1958. Print.)
Laozi says that the loftiest power can appear as an abyss; the way into the light can seem dark; the purist state can look faded and disheveled; and the loveliest music can have the subtlest notes. The Dao is often hidden in plain sight. One can therefore see without looking and by doing nothing can achieve everything.
I was on the edge of the precipice and staring into the west of China – the void. I knew how to float and to swim. It was time to leave that part of China where I could touch the bottom of the pool and move into the deep end.
Chinese Odyssey 50
“You think you know China,
you’ve been to the core.
Your journey’s just started,
Go west and see more”
How could she have known that
from “reading” my face?
Yet her message was clear,
no doubt. Not a trace.
The Panda in the Room PD 