I once thought that striving was the only way to go. Before “let it be or make it so?” became a question for me, letting the world come to me, as and when it does, was foreign to my way of thinking.
At some point in my life, however, the business of striving felt more and more like compensating. These days, I favor a striving that feels naturally, effortlessly, organically conveyed or expressed.
I prefer to invite, welcome, receive, and allow desired effects, results, and outcomes. Rather than strive to compensate, which feels artificial, I prefer to thrive naturally, effortlessly, and organically in the absence of compensatory striving. I wonder: do I strive to compensate for what I do not or can not have?
Why not show up feeling relaxed and refreshed with pure and perfect moments, with a pure and perfect appreciation for who I am and what I love to do? More to the point, why not just be who I love to be, so that I can do more of what I love to do, so that my having can look after itself?
Or, to put a personal spin on Rumi: let the beauty of what I love be what I do.
With whom do I love to spend most of my time? With whom, if anyone, would I love to spend most of my time? Is anyone in my life giving me a hard time? Or am I letting someone give me a hard time?
What comes easily? Could I set aside stress, struggle, and strain for a while and just say ‘yes’ to effortless ease? Just could I? Would I? If so, when would this be? Do I feel at all deserving of fulfilling my wholesome desires? Do I feel at all equipped to dispatch less than wholesome desires?
Would I rather fulfill desires that cultivate? Or fan the flames that compensate?
These questions, and more, are addressed in the verse that follows . . .
Tao Te Ching, Verse 20
In verse 20, Lao-Tzu does something unusual: he counsels us to give up learning.
But does he really and truly? What is his interpretation of learning? Perhaps what he is actually doing is counselling us to give up on learning to strive and to give up on striving to learn what we think and feel we must learn so as to compensate for what we do not or cannot have . . .
Give up learning
and you will be free from all your cares.
What is the difference between yes and no?
What is the difference between good and bad?
What is the difference between beautiful and ugly?Must I fear what others fear?
Should I fear desolation when there is abundance?
Should I fear darkness when light shines everywhere?In spring, some go to the park and climb the terrace,
but I alone am drifting, not knowing where I am.
Like a newborn babe before it learns to smile,
I am alone, without a place to go.Most people have too much;
I alone seem to be missing something.
Mine is indeed the mind of an ignoramus
in its unadulterated simplicity.I am but a guest in this world.
While others rush about to get things done,
I accept what is offered.
I alone seem foolish, earning little, spending less.Other people strive for fame;
I avoid the limelight, preferring to be left alone.
Indeed, I seem like an idiot: no mind, no worries.I drift like a wave on the ocean.
I blow as aimless as the wind.All seem to settle into their grooves;
I alone am stubborn and remain outside.
But where I am most different from others
is in knowing to receive sustenance
from the great Mother and Father.Edited slightly to enhance flow and to reflect more inclusive language
Ref: Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao
As I read this verse, my imagination is stoked: alone and without a care in the world, the ever watchful, peaceful, blissful, playful sage known as Lao Tzu goes about his way, and his day, sensitive to signals from the Source, receptive and responsive to the appearance of experience.
My Impressions of the Verse
This verse is the longest I’ve seen so far in the Tao Te Ching.
It’s almost as if Lao Tzu had a burst of inspiration and could hardly wait to share his perspective on what it means to be all one (alone) in the world ~ to be really, truly, and simply alone . . .
Give up learning
and you will be free from all your cares.
What is the difference between yes and no?
What is the difference between good and bad?
What is the difference between beautiful and ugly?
A compensatory striving to learn implies the imposition of will ~ on yourself, others, and the world at large. Conversely, remaining open to experience implies listening, observing, and witnessing whatever is presented. To wit: to look implies striving, to see implies arriving.
Lao Tzu: what difference does it make whether I slap a label on this, that, or the other thing with a yes or no, real or fake, true or false, good or bad, right or wrong, wise or foolish, beautiful or ugly?
Lao Tzu: it is what it is; acknowledge the experience for what it is: be receptive, reflective, and responsive; be part and parcel of the pattern; find the lesson in the darkness and be a party to the blessing; extract the gift from the dung and be someone who can appreciate them both.
A morally divisive consciousness, while instructive, gives way to a spiritually unitive consciousness.
Must I fear what others fear?
Should I fear desolation when there is abundance?
Should I fear darkness when light shines everywhere?
These questions suggest many lessons:
Embrace your own sovereignty as a person.
Both sides of duality serve to provide contrast.
Observe and receive and respond to what is there.
Be a pattern for the world; be a pattern for your world.
Remember: this too shall pass … as will this, and this, and …
In spring, some go to the park and climb the terrace,
but I alone am drifting, not knowing where I am.
Like a newborn babe before it learns to smile,
I am alone, without a place to go.
Sounds like a riddle, but it’s actually a potent metaphor of what is happening when you’re “going with the flowing,” beyond the realm of routine, not striving to anticipate what comes next, but instead trusting that the next event, the next occurrence, is happening, not to you, but for you.
Most people have too much;
I alone seem to be missing something.
Mine is indeed the mind of an ignoramus
in its unadulterated simplicity.
It’s not so much that those who seem to be missing something have given up on striving for more and better and different, while assuming the risk of appearing simple-minded, of seeming too simple and ignorant for their own good; it’s that they’ve given up on assumptions altogether.
I am but a guest in this world.
While others rush about to get things done,
I accept what is offered.
I alone seem foolish, earning little, spending less.
In a world of busy, busy, busy, where frantic souls and spirits serve as hosts and hostesses in the press for more and more, rushing hither and thither to “get things done,” Lao Tzu assumes the role of guest and graciously accepts what is offered, seeming foolish and out of place.
Other people strive for fame;
I avoid the limelight, preferring to be left alone.
Indeed, I seem like an idiot: no mind, no worries.
With no mind or care for striving to make a name for himself, Lao Tzu is content to be left alone ~ outside the limelight. Those who crave fame and fortune, on the other hand, know little or nothing of those who remain content to bask anonymously in solitude, privacy, and freedom.
I drift like a wave on the ocean.
I blow as aimless as the wind.
This is Lao Tzu’s way of paying homage to nature (and to his own nature in particular) as the consummate expression of Tao. In effect, “I trust the comings and goings of my experience.”
All seem to settle into their grooves;
I alone am stubborn and remain outside.
But where I am most different from others
is in knowing to receive sustenance
from the great Mother and Father.
Source consciousness (the Tao) is sometimes portrayed and conveyed to those who venture unexpectedly to The Other Side as both a Mother and a Father to its manifestations and creations. To wit: it is rarely if ever “this or that,” but “this and that.” Alive, awake, aware, and alert, Lao Tzu cannot settle, trusting and following the Way as and when he feels called to trust and follow.
Implications for Personal Fulfillment
If I do not strive to realize the outcome of my desire, wherein lies the fulfillment of my desire?
Verse 20 makes us wonder whether artificial striving is even worth the time and the trouble. Certainly, some sense of personal fulfillment is possible with successful, artificially induced striving, or else no one would bother to do it, but is there an easier, more fulfilling alternative?
Even in the morning of life, as and when artificial striving serves up many lessons, I’m willing to believe that most of us have had glimpses of effortless ease arising out of contentment, out of being receptive, reflective, and responsive to our respective worlds without resistance.
In the afternoon of life especially, people are generally more interested in turning these glimpses into panoramic views. The question for me is “how might I begin to approach living without striving (artificially) so as to transform these panoramic views into perpetual arrivals?
How might I forgo the pain of artificial striving to embrace the pleasure of natural striving?
From my experience, here are some vital clues to consider . . .
- the more relaxed I am, the more receptive and creative I can be
- when I turn striving into arriving, I can allow the world to come to me
- with awareness and sensitivity, I can explore the edges of my own limits
- with a vital sense of separation, I need not plug into other nervous systems
- as I stay tuned to the present moment, I can be aware of how I feel at all times
- saying “no” to push, push, push, I can step back and make good on clues 1 to 5
I let go and I let be; I respect limits, even as I transcend perceived limits; I remain sovereign in my presence and my promise; I receive, reflect, and respond, expressing as required or desired; and I remain at choice about when to stop, when to go, and when to go with the flow.
I respond and react to life with the awareness and alertness of presence and promise, with a mindful, heartfelt “yes, yes, and yes.” I allow and accept the way it is, whatever it is, even as and when I understand and appreciate that the here and now is good ~ and good enough.
That is, the here and now is happening for me, not to me.
My thought process goes from “something, anything, other than this” to “oh, I see . . . this.” Attempts or efforts to control the outcome give way to pure reception and reflection in relaxation.
Ceaseless doing and constant reacting yield to a contented being and a gracious responding; dramatic acts and melodramatic re-acts settle into a natural, effortless, organic being and becoming.
I say no to artificial, effortful striving and yes to natural, effortless striving. I am, I know, I love, I trust, I care, heeding the Way as I feel called to heed, care, trust, love, know, and be the Way.
Revised: August 15, 2020
Next up: The Supreme Virtue (and the Elusive Paradox)
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This post is one of many in an ongoing series that began here.