Old River

Excellent, excellent, excellent book. I do miss my copy.

Clarity

^^^ re:Hinton --- "a book I did not want to end"

Finished David Hinton's Hunger Mountain -- a book I did not to end. It had some great insights into Chinese culture and etymology-- a higly recommended read for anyone interested in Daoism. Today I began delving into an anthology, Transcendentalism: A Reader, which covers not just the usual suspects (Emerson and Thoreau), but those figures who are less read today (Margaret Fuller, A. Bronson Alcott), as well as figures on the fringe of that zeitgeist (Dickinson, Douglass). It gets off to a great start with a sermon by William Ellery Channing, who was a "proto-transcendentalist" so to speak-- you can see the themes that Emerson would later take up in his work. Such great insights, even if the theistic language seems foreign. But they were seeking something outside the unhealthy confines of Calvinism, but also the arid Unitarianism, groping for a different kind of metaphysical expression of humanity and nature. An absolutely fascintating facet of American history that is overlooked far too much today. Emerson, Thoreau, and Whitman encountered the Bhagavad-Gita and other Indian and Middle Eastern texts in translation which inspired them as well. They didn't know the Dao De Jing, but I imagine Thoreau would have nodded in approval.

I have mentioned before (here, and in another thread I believe) that I have decent job and a modest car, etc. -- and by comparison, I still think I live an affluent lifestyle -- while others would think my lifestyle spartan (hardly!). I think people, if they want to live with less clutter in their lives, have to do it gradually and find the right balance at that time of one's life. It took me years to get to where I am, and I may go further yet one day. This was a gradual decision, not a sudden purge. Finding the right balance at the right time in life is the key. Kafka's aphorism puts it best: 'Two tasks of the beginning of life: to keep reducing your circle, and to keep making sure you're not hiding somewhere outside it.'

It does matter insofar as more time is devoted to upkeep. More things to look after, more bills to pay, more things to weigh on the mind. That's time and energy taken away from things that matter far more to myself, so yes, it is a choice. The reduction of material goods have allowed me to tap into my potential in a way I could not if I were busy maintaining a large house, etc. I know what I'd rather devote my one life to-- call that gradually evolving decision what you will. My life is certainly far better for it. If others wish to sacrifice their time and energy aspiring to amassing external goods, conforming to what they've been tacitly or explicitly told by society is 'success,' they are free to do so-- in fact, most people do. I don't see that changing either. But it seems to me it has brought more trouble than it's worth. The quality of one's life is not dependent upon quantifiable external goods, no matter what a consumerist society says-- rather it depends upon something that cannot be bought or sold: one's own character. The best things in life don't have a price tag.

There was never any more inception than there is now, Nor any more youth or age than there is now, And will never be any more perfection than there is now, Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now. ~ Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

Karl, I didn't even have hedonism in mind (that's low hanging fruit anyway)-- I mean the seeking "respectable" job, the "respectable" status, or in the US what they call the "American Dream." Seeking those things makes life an awful lot more complicated than necessary. You become less worried about things that in the end don't really matter one way or the other. Daoism and Epicureanism (the real Greco-Roman philosophy, not the caracature of it) have this much in common-- the more simple your life, the more enjoyable it becomes-- I can certainly say this has been my own experience. Once upon a time my ex-wife and I lived a very affluent lifestyle and we were good little consumers. The funny thing was, the more money you make, the more you spend-- so we moved to a bigger place, got a new car, had a more expensive overhead. We put money back too of course-- we didn't fritter it all away, but it only made our lives more hectic (we were living in Dallas at the time). In the end, we moved back home and lived a more modest life. It was a "sacrifice" well worth making because we had more time to enjoy the beauty that nature had to offer, and I had much more time to enjoy reading and writing (please do note the emphasis there...) There are things far more important than what any society has to sell. In fact it is an inner peace that can't be bought or sold. It's not about "sour grapes" nor about "giving up happiness" or enjoyment, but asking: "Will owning a big house crammed with things really make me happy?" Or is this more clutter to keep up with? This is, after all, one of the main points that the Dao De Jing makes repeatedly.

The problem is that we don't simply eat, sleep, and work-- especially in a society dedicated to consumerism. The question is why are you eating this? why are you working? why are you doing what you are doing-- and the answer is hardly simple, but motivated by myriad and oftentimes conflicting desires-- it is running a rat race in order to buy that new car, an even bigger house, the latest x-box, etc. Bigger, bigger, and bigger. All these inner motives carve up our whole experience so that we end up with a more fragmented life. It turns one into a dog forever chasing his own tail. So it isn't a matter of learning how to do these things the "right" way, but rather unlearning all the ways we do things which are actually resistant to nature-- and which in turn pull you away from your true (unconditioned) nature. You won't find peace in that rat race-- and so the question is: what kind of life do you want to live? Chasing after material wealth, status, fame, and power -- or listening to a silence that exists within yourself prior to all that hustle and bustle, and discover a peace than none of those external things can give you? This doesn't mean you have to become an ascetic living off in the hills somewhere, but it does imply a change in values. I have a modest car and a decent enough job which I am good at -- but I have no interest in getting the Next Big Thing or fighting for a promotion. Its just a car. Its just a job. Some things matter far more than living in consumerist nightmare. Jesus put it this way: "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

"If we affirm one single moment, we thus affirm not only ourselves but all existence. For nothing is self-sufficient, neither in us ourselves nor in things; and if our soul has trembled with happiness and sounded like a harp string just once, all eternity was needed to produce this one event—and in this single moment of affirmation all eternity was called good, redeemed, justified, and affirmed." ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Having the same problem. Firefox and Chromebook won't connect for some reason. I only got into the forum by doing a Google search and clicking the link there. Odd.

True, though I doubt any of the folks in that article or the video would call themselves "sages." But even hermits (who only live in near isolation) have their own gentle influence on the world (I think of Ryokan, playing with the children, feeding animals, helping passersby). Perhaps such virtues aren't published for all the world to see, but they have their place in the world, which is sufficient. Many of the first Daoist practitioners withdrew themselves from society as far as they could, but they were hardly misanthropes (nor all of them sages I'm sure). All that said, society is highly overrated. There's nothing wrong with keeping those social ties to a comfortable minimum where possible. In a society run almost entirely by extroversion and gregariousness, a little more solitude in the world wouldn't do it any harm.

Oh, and I meant to add: Great documentary.

On modern day Chinese hermits: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/wires/afp/article-2875587/Chinas-mountain-hermits-seek-highway-heaven.html "The wise man knows that it is better to sit on the banks of a remote mountain stream than to be emperor of the whole world." ~ Zhuang Zi

An interesting bit of linguistic trivia: One of the better translation of the Dao De Jing is by John C.H. Wu, who was also a Christian. He also translated the New Testament from the Greek into Chinese. For John 1:1, he translated "In the beginning was the Word ["logos" in Greek]" as "In the beginning was the Dao." Not that Wu intended to make a literal connection between the two, but "logos" had a similar "spiritual depth" as the word "Dao." Consider the lilies....

Naps *are* refreshing... Welcome.

You can see the basic principle of Daoism in the so-called Chinese finger trap: the harder you pull on it, the more difficult you make matters-- you won't be able to pull your fingers out that way. Instead of forcing your way out of the finger trap, you have to gently wiggle your way out-- a counter-intuitive action. Broadly speaking, without getting bogged down too much in jargon, Daoism's essence is a matter of trusting *this* moment. This is something we tend not to do, for a variety of reasons-- but primarily it has to do with our (mis-)perception of the world and the inter-relationship between ourselves and everything else. We erronously see ourselves as independently existing entities, even though everything rises and falls in a vast network of interdependence. Implicit in this idea is a "me against the world" attitude which leads us to exert all kinds of force to control our daily environment-- which only gets us stuck, just like the Chinese finger trap. There are reasons why this sense false sense of separation arise, which I won't get into here! Dao, being "the way things are," points to a way of being which "precedes" (I don't mean chronologically) this distrust-- a kind of fundamental innocence of existence prior to all conceptualizing (that would include everything I'm writing in this post!) Daoism consists of a variety of approaches in order to realize our own fundamental place in the greater whole so as to work *with* the whole rather than against it. In doing so we will also realize our own unique individual nature, but integrated now organically with the world, rather than as something separate. This is a VERY broad summary obviously, and their are a variety of understandings and applications which open many other cans of worms. But all of the above mentioned principles can be found in the Dao De Jing (or Tao Te Ching -- these are just different Romanised transliterations of the classical Chinese). Zhuang Zi (or Chuang Tzu) is another early text, but probably not as good for beginners-- but he's excellent textual resource as well. I hope this helps, and good luck!

However, there are words in other languages that do not translate into, say, Engkish at all-- such as the Portuguese "saudade" the Japanese "mono no aware." At best, we can attempt to approximate such foreign words, but our different cultural backgrounds make those interior senses still inaccessible. Language operates like the keys of a piano, but there are certain experiences which don't always carry over-- like notes "between the cracks" which the piano cannot play. So-called "blue notes," for example, can only be approximated on the piano, whereas a guitar or human voice can easily hit those "in between" notes.

Not "Digin"--- "Dogen"!

Yueya, I love the Zhuangzi and John Grey commentary. Thanks for sharing. Gray has been on my radar the past several months, but I've yet to read any of his books (only articles online so far)-- something I'd like to remedy this year.... What book is that Gray quote from? I did want to add that to be fair, not all Buddhism gets stuck in the r"eal vs illusion" trap -- certainly not in Digen and Soto Zen at any rate. And Mahayana in general became aware of the contradiction and had its own ways to work through this false dichotomy (Nagarjuna being a chief example). But Zhuangzi does say it more straightforward way, which I admit I prefer.

Dustybeijing, I think I can say I agree, certainly insofar that the notion of "souls" almost always rests upon essentialism. Who "I" am (as "consciousness") fluctuates from one moment to the next. I *may* refer to myself when I was 40, 30, 20, or 10-- but to some degree this isn't accurate, as "I" am not that same person. It's a grammatical fiction, and a useful one in certain situations-- but not all-- situations. The root problem of so much of the world's sickness lies in the intersection of grammar and metaphysics, in our tacit belief in essentialism.

Fascinating. The Talmud I suppose would be part of the response to this discovery -- the Torah didn't simply spell things out plainly, but naturally needed to be interpreted. What's the saying: ask two rabbis a question and you'll get three answers?

...Is this stanza "true" or is it "false"? ...... We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, remembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning; At the source of the longest river The voice of the hidden waterfall And the children in the apple-tree Not known, because not looked for But heard, half-heard, in the stillness Between two waves of the sea. Quick now, here, now, always— A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flames are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one. (T.S. Eliot, from "Little Gidding," Four Quartets)

But Karl, you've given an extrinsic explanation of a poem-- but an extrinsic explanation fails to appreciate a poem intrinsically. Not everything falls into the categories of "true" or "false": ask ten different people what a poem means and you'll get ten different answers. Engaging with the text, none of these readers are right or wrong (this would include the poet who wrote the poem). Many years ago, I met a novelist, Charles Baxter, who, with amusement told me of one of his short stories being anthologized in a text books. One of the questions was "What does the red bird symbolize?" (as if symbols were mere variables in an algebraic equation with one correct answer). He told me that HE couldn't answer that question! (incidentally, this is one of the reason Plato disliked poets-- they can't give a "straight answer"). Most poetry doesn't operate as simple allegory, where an image merely stands for something else, but rather is pregnant with suggestiveness. This is what makes great literature continue to live centuries later-- its not simply exhausted of "information." Poetry doesn't trasmit information, but sets the whole mind in motion, making all kinds of connections. This is why people, especially in this day and age, can't connect to poetry-- all they know is some kind of discursive thinking. We are no longer acquainted with it, which is a pity. Language at best works differently in different contexts: science, or symbolism in religion or literature, roughly corresponding to discursive reason and intuition respectively. There is no one absolute universal way in which language operates, otherwise we'd all be Vulcans. Some things can only be told "slant," as Emily Dickson said. The world is too much in flux to be understood 100% of the time in fixed empirical terms-- at best language can approximate it for certain situations. Forgetting this inadequacy of language in those differing contexts only leads to less, not more, clarity. I'm puzzled as to what Ayn Rand's so-called objectivist ideology has in common with Buddhism or Daoism. Epistemologically, metaphysically, and morally I'm not sure I see any connection except a purely antithetical one. To each their own, of course, but it is still peculiar.