This chapter address the theme of power in the context of the relationship between large and small countries. Like other chapters addressing nations and government, this chapter can also apply to individuals – how we govern ourselves and how we relate to others.

A large country is like a river delta
The lowest point where all streams converge
Manifesting the receptive stillness of the feminine
It absorbs the power of all the water that flows into it

The Tao Te Ching often uses the image of water to describe the natural movement and energy of Tao. Water naturally flows towards the lowest point. The character for low 下 is used nine times in this chapter and can also mean underneath or humble.

The chapter goes on to describe the relationship of large and small countries, explaining that harmony between them is fostered not by force but by mutual respect and humility. An image that comes to mind is the practice in some cultures of bowing, each party offering respect rather than demanding it.

Bowing is often a part of martial arts ritual. Teachers and students bow to each other. Higher and lower ranked students bow to each other. Sparring partners bow to each other before and after combat.

Humility is sometimes confused with weakness or passivity or being taken advantage of. Or humiliation, which is a function of ego, whereas humility is a relinquishment of ego.

As we see in this chapter, humility is a quality of strength and power, like the power of the ocean that lies below all the waters of the earth. True power comes not from force, as anyone who practices martial arts will tell you. There will always be someone stronger. True power comes from alignment with the natural energy of the universe, allowing that energy to flow unimpeded.

Humility is a quality we used to value. It is one of the fruits of the spirit listed in the Bible. But as we look at nations and world leaders today, as we look at those who excel in sports, and those who attain celebrity status for reasons no one can identify, it seems that self promotion and self aggrandizement are the coin of the realm.

This chapter has led me to contemplate the place of humility in my own life. Is this a quality of the people I admire? Do I catch myself when ego puffs up? Do I value the opportunities I have to learn from others and to be in caring relationships when I check my ego at the door of life and bow to the beauty of every moment’s blessing?

I’m practicing....

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. ~Matthew 5:5

Tao is the honored source of all creation
The awakened person treasures it
The unenlightened are protected by it

This chapter is an ode to the natural beauty and humble majesty of Tao. Similar to the Bible’s observation that the sun shines and the rain falls equally on the just and the unjust, here we are told that Tao gives life to all, without reference to worthiness. All are equal before the loving generosity of the universe. The only difference is between those who are aware and those who are yet in ignorance.

Greater than emperors and ministers
More valuable than precious jade
Is sitting quietly and offering Tao to the world

Wisdom teachings and wisdom teachers from all traditions and time periods offer a “better way” or a “different way.” All aspire to liberate us from the suffering we cause ourselves by our unenlightened thoughts, words, and actions. And all offer assurance that relief is ours for the asking.

From ancient times Tao is honored
For those who seek receive
And are freed from their mistakes
Thus is Tao treasured by all under heaven

When I consider the choice between holding onto the “precious jade” of my opinions, judgments, fears, resentments, anger, and unforgiveness, and the boundless riches of my natural inheritance, well, hmm....

Recently I became aware of resentment I was holding against someone. I knew that it was blocking my own joy and separating me from divine union, but still there was something about it I savored. I liked to talk about it with others, to get sympathy and to reinforce my righteous outrage. I would start to let it go and then snatch it back again, not quite done with feeling betrayed and hurt.

And then, sitting on my meditation cushion trying all the “techniques” I know to ease my grip on what I knew was causing my own suffering, I suddenly saw an image. In this image I was underwater, sinking with the weight of the rock I was grasping. I treasured this rock and did not want to let it go. But as I sank further from the surface, the value of the rock began to fade as my desire for the light and air above became more urgent.

Finally, as you can guess, I wanted to rise back to the surface and breathe that precious air more than I wanted anything else. The rock was killing me, and as much has I had valued it, I now cared not a jot what happened to it and let it go.

If we really understood what our choice is, we would drop like a hot potato anything that blocks our true and only real treasure. We would, as Pema Chodron say, practice like our hair is on fire. We would live in humble gratitude and deep joy.

So think carefully about what you value above all else.

For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. ~Matthew 6:21

Act without acting
Engage without engaging
Know without knowing

These opening lines present the paradox of Tao, especially the first line which returns to the theme of non-action. People sometimes misunderstand this concept to mean that we all should sit around binge watching our favorite show instead of going to work, taking care of the kids, paying bills, pursuing hobbies, and all the things that make up our day to day lives.

How do we act without acting? We act without acting when we have a sense that action is happening through us but not by us. When we are fully present and respond naturally to our circumstances rather than trying to force other people or circumstances to conform to how we think things should be. This ability to respond naturally results from an inner alignment and harmony with reality.

Big small many few
Respond to injury (hatred, bitterness) with Te

This, to me, is the central and essential practice of the Tao Te Ching. First, all injury (by whatever name you want to call it) is the same, in the sense that every injury gives us a choice of how to respond. Second, our response to any injury can be the same, meaning that no matter the nature of the injury, we can respond from that place of alignment and harmony. In that case, the response is not a reaction from a defensive/offensive perspective. Rather, our response is an allowing of grace (Te) to manifest through us.

A Course in Miracles teaches that everything we do or think or say is one of two things: an expression of love, or a call for love. Everything.

When we have misperceived ourselves as separate and in conflict, we often call for love through anger, judgment, fear, manipulation. When we correctly perceive ourselves as connected and in harmony, it is easier to allow love to express itself through us and out into the world.

Let me be clear. No, the Tao Te Ching is not teaching us to go hug a serial killer. It is teaching us to practice compassion as we make sane choices about our safety and boundaries. Then, just like the arrows Buddha turned into flowers, injury is transformed into the gift of grace. Effortlessly. Action without acting.

Hatred never ceases by hatred, but by love alone is healed. ~Buddha

This uncharacteristically long chapter comprises several parts that may at one time have been separate. It reminds me of the book of Proverbs in the Bible, which contains many pearls of wisdom that can be considered as stand alone verses. Because of its length, I’m going to break discussion of this chapter into two posts.

Some key lines from the first part:

Peace is easily sustained

This is an interesting pronouncement in a world where peace has been elusive, from families to nations, across millennia. To me, this speaks to our natural state of alignment and harmony, easy to maintain if we refrain from interfering. The history of conflict at all levels and at all times in this world, has almost always been caused when we have shifted out of alignment because of fear. A Course in Miracles teaches that this fear results from our mistaken belief in separation, from each other and from God. Fear makes us want to control outside circumstances that are beyond our control. Inner conflict is then manifested externally.

What has not yet happened is easy to prepare for
Manage things before trouble arises

These lines remind me of the old adage “A stitch in time saves nine.” It also reminds me of how our practice prepares us for the unexpected. If my balance is improved by practicing tai chi, for example, I am less likely to fall if I miss a step or trip over something. If my inner alignment is rooted through practicing meditation, I’m less likely to be buffeted by an unanticipated challenge.

A long journey begins under the foot

This wisdom is often phrased as “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” The character in this line, however, is actually the character for “foot” and the following character means “under.” This gives me a slightly different sense of this proverb. No matter where I’m headed, my present location is always exactly under my feet. No matter how many steps I take, I am always in the same “place,” that is, over my feet.

It’s like breathing. I will breathe my way all through my life’s journey, but the breath that matters is the one I’m taking right now.

No matter how you interpret this line, I think the point is that, to use another saying, “no matter where you go, there you are.” The present moment, standing on this ground, breathing this breath, is where I exist.

As I said, this chapter is more like pearls on a string rather than one big pearl. I hope these lines offer something helpful for your contemplation. I will continue the chapter in the next post.

As I explained in Part 1, this unusually long chapter resembles a string of proverbs. Picking up from the earlier post, here are some key passages from the rest of the chapter.

Action leads to failure
Grasping leads to loss
Thus the sage refrains from action and does not fail
Refrains from grasping and does not lose

Once again we encounter this perplexing concept of non-action. Refraining from action to avoid failure reminds me of the athlete who said that you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. We are encouraged to try and try again, to learn from our failures.

But remember that non-action in this context does not mean sitting around doing nothing in resignation or fear. It means not engaging in ego-driven action. It means allowing one’s actions to be guided by inner wisdom and alignment such that action is effortless and unforced.

And as we know from the Buddha’s teaching, grasping is at the root of suffering. Impermanence is the nature of the manifested universe. Our attempts to hold onto something that is changing create a struggle that we will inevitably lose.

Thus the sage desires no desire
Does not value material treasure
Allowing all things to return to their true nature
By not presuming to act

The Chinese characters for true nature are hard to translate. Literally, they mean “self so.” They sort of mean “what is so of itself” or “what is, as it is.” This pair of characters appear throughout the Tao Te Ching and, like non-action, represent a foundational concept in this ancient wisdom teaching.

When we refrain from ego-driven action or interference, and follow our inner guidance, then what is, as it is, naturally unfolds. We no longer create suffering with futile struggles with reality. We are aligned with the universal energy that manifests through us with effortless harmony.

Sounds too good to be true? It isn’t. It is who we are. It isn’t a matter of becoming. It’s a matter of remembering.

The Tao is not about grasping, but allowing, like water. ~Wayne Dyer

Like other chapters which address principles of governance, this chapter applies just as well, and perhaps with more relevance, to how we govern ourselves.

In ancient times rulers who followed Tao
Did not teach people to be clever
But rather encouraged people to follow their true nature
Governing by manipulation brought ruin
But governing in alignment with Tao brought good fortune

I have taken great liberty with the translation here because the use of certain characters in this particular chapter seems atypical in the context of the Tao Te Ching. I hope I have captured the essential meaning. I think the point, expressing a theme throughout the text, is that nature has its own wisdom that we cannot improve on. And when we try, our interference causes chaos and suffering.

To know the difference between these two (the natural way vs interference)
Is called mysterious Virtue (Te)
Mysterious Virtue reaches deep and far
Linking all things to the Source
In perfect harmony

As I’ve noted before, the “Te” of the Tao Te Ching is often translated as “Virtue.” However, this does not mean virtue in any moralistic sense, but rather means the expression of Tao in the manifested universe. I think it is comparable to the fruits of the spirit in Christianity, which are not moral rules but rather the natural expression of being filled with the holy spirit.

Maybe I’m just getting too tired as I get older to expend a lot of energy trying to force things to be a certain way. I find more and more that when I allow things to run their natural course, everything turns out all right. In hindsight I see the wisdom of how things unfold, even if at an earlier stage it seemed that everything was going the wrong way. “Wrong,” of course, according to me and my limited vision and anxiety at the time. I’m learning to suspend judgment and take the approach voiced by a friend. “Let’s just see what happens.”

When I’m able to do that, all the moving pieces do indeed seem to settle into harmonious resonance. And it is perfect.

Trust the process. ~Kyle Cline

This beautiful chapter is about leadership, comparing a good leader to the sea, resting patiently in the lowest position, allowing all water to return according to its own path.

The sea is king of the hundred valleys
Because it lies well below them

This passage blends two thematic images in the Tao Te Ching – water and valleys. The valley is open, receptive, guiding the water that flows through it, and nourishing all that grows in its embrace.

Water is the most common metaphor for Tao. Water’s power comes from following its nature, flowing in harmony with gravity, ever downhill around over or under all obstacles, returning to its source in the vast ocean.

Thus one who would rule others must support them from underneath
One who would lead others must encourage them from behind

This reminds me of the Bible passage that says those who are first shall be last, and those who are last shall be first, thus describing the concept of the servant leader. When a leader understands this principle, the chapter goes on to observe that the people are neither burdened nor hindered. Good leadership embodies humility, not arrogance.

Because the sage does not contend
No one under heaven can contend with the sage

I experience the validity of this passage all the time in martial arts. One of our training slogans is “Don’t insist. Don’t resist.” This holds true in everyday life, as anyone who has found themselves in a battle of will with a two year old (or a teenager) can attest. When we compete, we divide ourselves into winners and losers. In doing so, we all lose the opportunity for connection, for relationship, for peace.

Water does not contend, yet achieves its purpose effortlessly, in harmony with all nature. When we live according to our true nature, in harmony and humility, we open a channel for the energy of the universe to manifest through us. And nothing is more powerful than that.

Our deepest fear is not that we are powerless. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. ~Marianne Williamson

Be water, my friend.  ~Bruce Lee

I have three treasures
Which I hold closely and cherish
First is compassion
Second is simplicity
Third is humility
Compassion generates courage
Simplicity allows generosity
Humility creates enduring potential

This chapter reminds me of Matthew 6:21. “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

Compassion, simplicity, humility, all bring us into harmony and alignment with our true nature, with others, with our environment.

What are your treasures? What values to you hold closely and cherish? In what way do these values manifest in your life?

When I asked my eight year old grandson before his basketball game what was most important, I wasn’t sure how he would answer. I was delighted when he said, “Have fun. Do your best. Be nice.”

This chapter cautions us that the qualities that manifest, like generosity for example, come from the treasure. The quality, to be genuine, is naturally expressed, not forced. Indeed, the chapter goes on to caution us:

When compassion is rejected, yet courage is contrived
When simplicity is missing, yet generosity is pretended
When one abandons humility, and insists on being first
Death follows

This doesn’t mean a literal, physical death. It means that being false in any way drains our life force and empties our soul of its intrinsic strength. Conversely, when we are aligned with our true nature, the power of the universe flows through us and out into the world. Effortlessly. Beautifully. Perfectly.

The chapter ends with the observation that of the three treasures, compassion is the most essential. Like the Bible says about faith, hope, and love, “the greatest of these is love.”

My religion is kindness. ~The Dalai Lama

This chapter is about power and the use of power. It starts out with four lines, each beginning with the character for “good.”

A good warrior is not violent
A good fighter is not enraged
A good conqueror does not engage the enemy
A good leader humbles himself

The ancient treatise The Art of War counsels that the highest victory is won without engaging in battle. This reminds me of lessons in tai chi. Tai chi “sparring” usually begins with two people facing each other and lightly touching one or both forearms. A master I studied with said that the instant he came in contact with an opponent, he “knew” everything about the other person and basically took all his energy away from him.

This would sound crazy if I hadn’t witnessed this tiny 80 year old man easily deflecting attacks by younger, bigger, stronger, skilled martial artists. He never moved very much, never broke a sweat, and had a twinkle in his eye.

I know I do best in martial arts when I remain relaxed, neutral, neither afraid nor aggressive. And, as I’ve said before, what I love about martial arts is that what I learn there applies so well to life in general.

One of Aesop’s Fables tells the story of the wind and the sun, competing to see who is stronger by seeing who can remove a man’s coat. The wind blows strong and cold, but the man just pulls the coat around him more tightly. Finally the wind is exhausted. The sun takes his turn and simply shines warmly. The man is soon too hot and removes his coat.

This fable is one of my favorites because it teaches us not only that force is not as effective as gentleness, but also that force exhausts the one expending it. Consider this next time you are trying to get a two year old to do anything.

The chapter ends by relating this nonviolent approach to De (the “de” or “te” of the Tao Te Ching). De does not strive, and this is the source of its power, which effortlessly manifests in  perfect harmony with heaven.

This chapter invites us to contemplate our relationship to power. When do we feel powerful? Powerless? How do we try to gain power? How do we use it? With what results? We are invited to watch ourselves and learn how power operates in our lives. Let’s see what we discover!

The day the power of love overrules the love of power, the world will know peace.  ~Gandhi

This chapter carries forward the teaching in the last chapter about power and conflict.

Warriors have a saying:
I do not presume to be the host (aggressor) but would rather be the guest (defender)
Rather than advance an inch, I would retreat a foot
This is called going forward without advancing

This passage reminds me of the martial art of aikido, which I’ve never practiced, but is described as a purely defensive martial art with no offensive moves. An interesting concept.

I confess that when engaged in any sort of martial art sparring, my tendency is to go on the offense. I do this because it gives me the delusion of control, and I often persist even when it is clearly not to my advantage. My challenge and practice in martial arts is to empty myself out, to be alert and responsive to what is happening, rather than try to force a particular outcome.

I have found that this works best in daily life. I wrote about an experience when I was confronted by some young men looking for trouble and was able to deflect their intention just with words. Retreating a foot in that case was definitely “going forward without advancing.”

Grasp without arms
Control without weapons
Capture without hostility

The last line can also be read as capturing without an enemy. I love the wisdom in these three lines. As soon as we set ourselves up in an adversarial dynamic by labeling someone as an enemy, as soon as we react to someone with hostility, we have set up a win/lose conflict that might win a battle but will not bring peace.

When I taught law students how to draft contracts, they would often say that they wanted to draft a contract that would hold up in court. My response was often a surprise to them. “If you are in court over your contract, you have already lost.” Because no matter what the judge says, a litigant has already lost the benefit of the bargain that the parties agreed to. The relationship has broken down, trust has been betrayed, time and money have been wasted. A successful contract is one that the parties perform.

In our culture, we are so locked in to an us/them, win/lose mindset that we cannot see what is lost by the adversarial stance we take with our families, our politics, our religion, our planet.

It is hard to write anything these days without a mention of the virus spreading across the earth. Yes, there is Covid-19, but there is a more intangible virus spreading through the hearts and spirits of those who see only danger and feel only fear. Gun sales are up in the United States. Disturbing. I joked to a neighbor passing by that someone was going to get shot over toilet paper. He replied in all seriousness that he had his guns and was prepared to use them. Very disturbing.

The chapter ends with this:

Thus when opposing warriors meet each other
The one with compassion will win indeed

Indeed.

This is a beautiful chapter that acknowledges how elusive something so simple can be.

My words are very easy to know
Very easy to put into practice
Yet under heaven no one is able to know them
No one can put them into practice

When people ask me to explain Tao to them, or ask me what they need to do to live according to the Tao, I’m always a bit stumped. As we’ve known ever since the very first lines of the Tao Te Ching, the Tao that can be understood or explained is not the eternal Tao. So no matter what I say, I will fail to answer the question. My aim is, then, as one teacher says, to fail well.

I was asked a few months ago to give a presentation on Taoism to a group of people who were studying a book comparing major “religions.” I put that word in quotes because my first hurdle was to figure out how Tao can be neatly packaged into a religion. I’m pretty sure it can’t be. It is, as the Tao Te Ching teaches, without form, without name, without substance. It has no creed, no doctrine, no structure, no ritual (although the Taoist religion, as it has developed over millennia, has pretty much all of these things). It is, to use Bruce Lee’s description of his approach to martial arts, the way of no way.

Why is it so easy? Almost a thousand years ago, Li Hsi-Chai explained it best: “It is easy because there is no Tao to discuss, no knowledge to learn, no effort to make, no deeds to perform.” (translated by Red Pine)

It is, as I explained to the study group, as easy and natural as breathing. In fact, breathing is our best model of Tao in action. Breathe in, breathe out. Manifesting into form, returning to formlessness. Fluid like water. Natural. The only breath that matters is the one right now. Now this one. I cannot hoard or store my breath, or borrow future breath on credit. I cannot hold on to it (for very long) but must release it to allow the next breath. Everything we need to know is not in a book or in the words of a teacher. Everything we need to know is in the breath.

So why is it so hard? Finishing Li Hsi-Chai’s quote: “It is hard because the Tao cannot be discussed, because all words are wrong, because it can’t be learned, and because the mind only leads us astray.”

That made me laugh out loud. I know. I have a strange sense of humor. But didn’t Li Hsi-Chia perfectly capture the human brain’s frustration with not being able to name, classify, anazlyze, evaluate, and attain intellectual clarity and moral conviction? “I think, therefore I am” gives us the great mental pleasure of certainty. “Don’t believe everything you think” throws us right back into the terrifying (to the brain) unknown.

Most of us are thinking, okay great, I get this, sort of, but what do I do? What does this look like?

It looks like this: breathe in, breathe out.

For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. ~Jesus

Understanding that we do not know is wisdom
Believing that we know the unknowable is suffering

First year law students often arrive expecting that they are going to be told all the answers to legal questions. After a few weeks of hearing professors say, “That depends on ...,” they begin to suspect that the professors know the answers but for some pedagogical or sadistic reason are keeping the answers a secret from the students. It takes a while to convince them that legal analysis does indeed rest on a number of factors and variables.

Oprah Winfrey’s magazine always ends with a column titled “What I Know for Sure.” I used to joke that I was in awe of Oprah because she knew something for sure at least twelve times a year. 

Buddha understood that attachment or desire is the root of suffering. One of the things our brains are wired to desire is unchanging certainty. So strong is this craving, that our brains will grasp onto a false answer rather than tolerate the discomfort of not knowing. Once securely attached to an answer, the brain resists the trauma of releasing it even when a better answer is presented. I have seen my own brain do this. It’s kind of amazing. 

And it leads to suffering. Because on some level we know that we are floating in an ocean of mystery paddling a leaky raft. Our soul swims lazily alongside, beckoning. “Come on in; the water’s fine.” And we just paddle harder. 

Until we don’t. Until we are so tired of the suffering we cause ourselves, that we are willing to dive into our fear because we are less afraid of the murky depths than of staying where we are.

And guess what. The water is fine. And so are we. 

You know nothing, Jon Snow. ~Ygritte, Game of Thrones

When people do not fear power
Great power appears

These first two lines have been translated and interpreted so many ways, it’s difficult to find any footing in a particular meaning. Like many passages in the Tao Te Ching which seem to address governance, this couplet could refer to actual political government, and could also refer to the way we govern our own individual selves internally. I tend to lean towards the internal application of these passages, because harmonious external governance is rooted in harmonious internal alignment. 

With that in mind, the power referenced in these lines is not necessarily the external imposition of superior force, but could mean the power inherent in all of us when we allow the limitless natural energy of the universe to move in us, through us, and manifest outwardly. This is not the power of individual will, but rather the power of all creation when our own individual will is surrendered in alignment. 

The power of this universal energy is blocked by fear. As Marianne Williamson said, “Our deepest fear is not that we are powerless. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.” Thus, great power appears when fear is released. Sit with that for a moment.

The chapter continues by observing that this power is not oppressive. It does not interfere with or disrupt or burden people’s lives, but rather operates in natural harmony with the people’s homes, families, and activities.

Thus the sage is self aware without seeking recognition
Loves herself without arrogance
Moves freely without attachment

Here is a description of inner balance and freedom. When I read this I get a sense of someone who delights in life, walking humbly in service to others, appreciating the miracle of each moment. 

Do justice. Love mercy. Walk humbly. ~ from Micah 6:8

If people are not afraid of death                                                            How can death be used to threaten them

These opening lines remind me of the story of the monk who was threatened by a marauding soldier with a sword. When the monk sat there calmly, the solder yelled, “Aren’t you afraid? Don’t you know I can run you through with this sword without blinking an eye?” 

The monk replied, “Don’t you know I can be run through with your sword without blinking an eye?” At the point, so the story goes, the soldier released his sword and dropped to his knees, begging to be the monk’s disciple.

The chapter goes on to say that if people are afraid of death, they act out of fear. To put it another way, they are no longer in alignment with the natural flow of energy in the universe. They are no longer acting in harmony with all of creation. Acts of fear are often attempts to control our circumstances or other people. They are often met with resistance as fearful people vie for the upper hand, the classic power struggle. 

The chapter finishes by observing that those with the upper hand then use their power to force others into compliance. This is not the way of nature. It is like trying to usurp nature’s power, or, to put it in other terms, it is like playing God. 

And, as many of us have learned in our lives, such attempts often backfire, bringing more harm than good to all concerned. 

Whenever I find myself in an anxious or fearful state, my first impulse is to try to control something or someone in order to relieve my own distress. I can usually find some justification, for example, thinking that circumstances or someone left me no choice. I can usually find some pure motivation, for example, thinking that I am improving the situation or helping someone. But really, if I’m honest, I’m trying to make myself feel better or safer or happier. 

And how does that work for me? Hmm, usually not so great because I’m basing my sense of well being on things I can’t really control, like circumstances and other people. So even if I get relief in the immediate situation, the underlying impermanence of, well, everything, leaves me on some level still unsettled. 

What if, instead, I addressed the underlying root of all my unease – fear. What if I made my peace with the fluid movement of all creation, always changing, always manifesting and returning in cyclic rhythm. What if I found this natural energy wondrously magnificent instead of scary and threatening. What if I allowed it to move freely in me and through me, and gave up the exhausting and futile quest to be in charge of everything and everyone. 

Might be worth exploring....

A moment of Radical Acceptance is a moment of genuine freedom. ~Tara Brach

PS -- As an example, I continue to struggle with the new Blogger interface. I just spent 20 minutes trying to get things spaced the way I wanted. Hmm, perhaps I need to practice some radical acceptance....