There’s much we don’t know, and can’t pinpoint exactly about Daoism, but that doesn’t have to be a problem for people who are drawn to read the Daodejing. We do know that Daoism developed about 2500 years ago in China; we do have a text called the Daodejing said to have been written by a man named Lao Tzu.
This text is the most translated “religious” text next to the Jewish and Christian Bibles, though many would say that Daoism is not a religion at all.
Dozens of translations exist in English, the first starting in the late 19th century. For the first 50 years after translation, many westerners tried hard to find parallels between Christian ethics and Daoism, and they were successful because people often find what they’re predisposed to discover, and because mystical texts often have some similar messages of inversions of power and paradox and compassion: “If you try to grasp it you lose it,” When you think you have it, you don’t.”
Parts of Ralph Waldo Emerson can be read as Daoist, as can Henry David Thoreau’s recognition of unity in nature and the cyclical pattern of reality. Henry David Thoreau once said, “I have traveled extensively in Concord,” pointing toward his ability to notice so much so close to home. A verse from the Daodejing goes like this: “Without going outside, you may know the whole world./ Without looking through the window, you may see the ways of heaven./ The farther you go, the less you know./ Thus the sage knows without traveling;/ Sees without looking;/ works without doing.” (47).
In the nineteen-sixties, the Daodejing was read for its messages of mysticism and anarchy, its rejection of customs and laws and rules. If you want to reject the established order, this is the book for you! Part of its appeal is the multiple layers of meaning in each verse. While it’s impossible to be certain of the meaning of some of the chapters (I have three translations and often go back and forth among them and note the subtle differences). -- like poetry, or one of Shakespeare’s plays, you don’t have to reject one meaning to hold another – you can hold them both -- regardless of the meaning intended by the writer. There is not an authoritative final reading on the Daodejing, and there probably never will be.
Dao is translated as The Way, the way things work, the order of the universe, the natural order of things. Everything is a part of it, and it’s in the workings of everything, like the water cycle that goes on providing clean water for millions of years. It’s impartial; it doesn’t react or punish or blame -- or praise, for that matter --it just is. Maybe there’s a tipping point in the natural order of the water cycle. Not as a threat. Not as a judgment. Just as a reality. This much pollution is too much pollution. That’s the way things work.
Not only do we get to hold the multiple meanings for each verse in the Daodejing, we also get the unknowability of Lao Tzu, its author. There’s no conclusive proof as to whether he actually existed, and yet it doesn’t matter whether he did or not, because his story is part of the Dao. As the story goes, his name means “Old Boy” and he was born already as an adult man. He taught the Dao, and at a very old age, decided he was done and wanted to leave China. Before he could leave, he was stopped at the border, and was told to write his ideas before parting ways with China. Reluctantly, he sat and quickly dashed off the slim 81 chapters now known as the Daodejing, to leave a record of the dao that can’t be spoken. Using inadequate words with which to write it, he then vanished never to be heard from again.
The first two lines: “The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao. The name that can be named is not the eternal name.”
Each chapter is little more than several stanzas of a poem.
The Daodejing was written for rulers at a time when China was divided into warring states, in what must have seemed like endless war. China’s philosophers were at odds with one another too. Lao Tzu and Confucius were more or less contemporaries and according to the texts they may have met, though Confucius is an historical figure and Lao Tzu may not have been an actual person.
(Wordsworth asked readers to willingly suspend disbelief in order to get a truth from literature, and that’s what we must do here.) The Daoists criticized the Confucianists, mostly for their strict adherence to rules and their ideas of manners and authority and education, which, according to the Daoists, interfered with the natural way of things. In Daoist literature, Confucius plays the role of the scribes and Pharisees in the New Testament, the ones who insist on the rules. I sometimes think of Confucius as being like Ben Franklin in Poor Richard’s Almanac: “A penny saved is a penny earned,” “waste not want not,” “a stitch in time saves nine.” I’m grateful for people with such practical wisdom! And Lao Tzu? Maybe like Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., an aging truth teller, adept at turning ideas on their heads. Someone I wish I’d had a chance to meet, to sit over coffee and talk about the world. The title, Daodejing, means “The Way and its Power.” It’s directed to rulers, who, if they are wise, want to bring peace to the country. They can do this by heeding the Three Treasures: humility, compassion and moderation. The famous example for how a wise person should rule a country includes a recipe for cooking fish: “Ruling the country is like cooking a small fish.” In other words, don’t mess with it too much or it will fall apart. This concept serves other situations as well: perhaps parenting, friendship, writing, being part of a congregation or any group should be approached like cooking a small fish. . .trusting that without interference others will happily, naturally be themselves.
What is the basis for noninterference according to the Dao? The cycle will come around on its own. Too much effort brings its opposite. Trying to control someone else always leads to resistance, both in people and in countries. And all that is born eventually dies. So, why force things?
Wu Wei is the term for not doing, the not doing that gets everything done.
Instead of interfering, wise people practice notdoing. It’s an attitude. A deep knowing that makes the sage powerful. I have an example of this from parenting. I noticed early on that when I was uncertain as a parent, my uncertainty led to chaos and questions—and as a young parent, I was often uncertain. I also noticed that when I was deeply clear – often with few words or no words, just plain deep down certainty – the result was peace and cooperation.
The same holds in negotiations , and in mediation. Doing less, forcing nothing, and everything gets done. The power that comes from not contending, from the three treasures: moderation, compassion, humility. And it’s practical: as many commentators mention, by following this way, one is more likely to get what one wants.
Wu wei is about trusting that noninterference may be the wisest choice.
From the Daodejing: “Those who think to win the world/ by doing something to it,/ I see them come to grief./ For the world is a sacred object./ Nothing is to be done to it./ To do anything to it is to damage it./ To seize it is to lose it” (29).
I have an example from my backyard: Since spring has arrived my husband and I have been spending time in the yard. We were looking at the birch tree that died in the backyard 6 or 7 years ago, branches fallen, leafless. We’d talked about removing it. But never got around to it. It’s now home to thousands of bugs and worms, wonderful decomposers who then become snacks for dozens of birds that we can watch from our back porch. By doing nothing, we have benefited -- and so have countless living creatures, grubs and birds alike. And I guess eventually the birch tree will be reclaimed by nature.
Simplicity recurs in this text. In addition to the advice on cooking small fish, Lao Tzu returns to ideas of smallness. Have smaller desires. Notice that he doesn’t say have no desires. Just smaller ones. He also says to attend to problems while they’re small. Deal with the small while it’s still easy and the great while it’s still small (63) .
“See simplicity in the complicated./ Achieve greatness in little things./ In the universe difficult things are done as if they are easy./ In the universe great acts are made up of small deeds.”
“Peace is easily maintained; / Trouble is easily overcome before it starts./ . . . / Deal with it before it happens./ Set things in order before there is confusion” (64).
Maybe all of us have the ability to preempt problems, to ease a conversation onto more helpful ground, to pay attention to what’s in front of us, to go to the root of the thing and touch the natural order, to set things in order before there’s confusion. Lao Tzu writes modestly about moderation: “He who stands on tiptoe is not steady./ He who strides cannot maintain the pace./ He who makes a show is not enlightened./ He who is self-righteous is not respected./ He who boasts achieves nothing./ He who brags will not endure./” (24).
And in another verse he says: “Therefore he who knows enough is enough will always have enough” (46).
Again: “Nature doesn’t make long speeches./ A whirlwind doesn’t last all morning./ A cloudburst doesn’t last all day./ Who makes the wind and rain?/ Heaven and earth do./ If heaven and earth don’t go on and on/ certainly people don’t need to” (23). And, a favorite: “Give up sainthood, renounce wisdom,/ And it will be a hundred times better for everyone./ Give up kindness, renounce morality,/ And men will rediscover filial piety and love,/ Give up ingenuity, renounce profit,/ And bandits and thieves will disappear./ These three are outward forms alone; they are not sufficient in themselves./ It is more important/ To see simplicity,/ To realize one’s true nature, / To cast off selfishness/ And temper desire.” (19).
Lao Tzu was clear that even nonaggression can be aggressive. He also said that any aggression is regrettable.
Daoism has been called the watercourse way by one of my old favorites, Alan Watts. The symbol of water recurs in the imagery of the Daodejing. Water cuts through rock, settles into the lowest places, benefits everything. “The highest good is like water./ Water gives life to the ten thousand things and does not strive./ It flows in places men reject and so is like the Tao./ In dwelling be close to the land./ In meditation, go deep in the heart./ In dealing with others be kind and gentle./ In speech , be true./ In ruling, be just./ In business, be competent./ In action, watch the timing./ No fight; No blame.” (8) “Nothing in the world/ is as soft, as weak, as water;/ nothing else can wear away/ the hard, the strong,/ and remain unaltered/ Soft overcomes hard, weak overcomes strong./ Everybody knows it,/ nobody uses the knowledge” (78).
These lines are a celebration of water! When I read them, I think of Pete Seeger and his work on the Hudson River, his steadfast work. A local humble hero.
These words of 2500 years ago still echo. So simple and yet courageous. The Dao is an impersonal, reliable, dependable, impartial force of nature that everything is a part of; we are part of the cycle and cannot make it otherwise. According to Daoism, it’s the way things work. Lao Tzu doesn’t presume to tell us what to do; he just tells us how things work.
So, of what use is this 2500 year old philosophy? I can only know that as a Unitarian Universalist, the Dao’s practicality, its right brained good humor, its indifference to contrived power, its wholehearted acceptance of noncompetitive , humble, compassionate, moderate power, its inversions, its willingness to be foolish and wise and humble all at the same time both appeals and serves as an antidote when my left brain needs a break. Our history too holds a willingness to break from convention, to question, to freely observe the way things work.
One of my favorite teachings says that “the (lower case) way to the (upper case) Way is the (upper case) Way.” The order of things will always get our attention, wherever we are on the path, whatever path we’re on. There’s no way we can get lost. And, finally, I will share two of my favorite Daoist quotes:
1. If you try to know it you have already departed from it. (Lao Tzu says that trying interferes with doing.)
2. One word of explanation already misses the mark. (I have this one taped to the desk beside my computer.)
Lets sing together. Turn, turn, turn
Closing words and benediction:
The final words of the Daodejing: “True words aren’t charming, / charming words aren’t true/ Good people aren’t contentious,/ contentious people aren’t good./ People who know aren’t learned,/ learned people don’t know./ Wise souls don’t hoard;/ the more they do for others the more they have,/ the more they give, the richer they are./ The Way of heaven profits without destroying./ Doing without outdoing/ is the Way of the wise” (81).