“Master the art of doing nothing … beautifully.”

When I saw these words run across an ad for a resort located miles from civilization on 5,000 acres of pristine wilderness, I laughed.

These words were music to my ears!

These words resonated with a Spanish proverb that I am especially fond of – How beautiful it is to do nothing and then rest afterward – and tipped my hand in making a reservation.

I’ve sometimes wondered: what is it about doing nothing that holds so much appeal?

In this post, we have a chance to find out.

Tao Te Ching, Verse 37

Lao Tzu is often quoted as saying, the way to do is to be.

This is our first clue in getting to know the appeal of doing nothing, and if doing flows naturally, spontaneously, and effortlessly from being, are we not, in a sense, doing nothing?

The Tao
does nothing,
yet leaves
nothing undone.

If the powerful
could center
themselves in it,
the whole world
would transform
by itself in its
natural rhythms.

When life is simple,
pretenses fall away;
our essential natures
shine through.

By not wanting,
there is calm,
and the world
straightens itself.

In silence,
one finds the anchor
of the universe
within oneself.

Edited slightly to enhance flow and to reflect more inclusive language

Ref: Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao

This verse is a clear invitation to align (and stay aligned) with something, but what exactly?

My Impressions of the Verse

Verse 37 rings true for me, resonating with the wisdom of a natural spontaneous order infused with love.

The Tao
does nothing,
yet leaves
nothing undone.

The cycle of life – birth, growth, decay, death – is a most perfect expression of eternal Doing flowing from essential Being.

If the powerful
could center
themselves in it,
the whole world
would transform
by itself in its
natural rhythms.

Ironically, the most powerful are never really powerful as and when their doing is contaminated motivated by fear of lack or loss.

The invitation here is for the powerful to stop and listen, to center themselves in a place where nothing is left undone, to lose the fear, to infuse being with loving, and to let it all flow from there.

When life is simple,
pretenses fall away;
our essential natures
shine through.

Striving (doing) conditioned and motivated by fear gives way to being (having) infused with love from which doing (allowing) flows naturally.

By not wanting,
there is calm,
and the world
straightens itself.

By releasing any sense of wanting, which implies a sense of lacking or losing, a sense of calm appears to arise naturally, restoring peace to your version of this world.

In silence,
one finds the anchor
of the universe
within oneself.

Be still, and know that you are present.

Implications for Personal Fulfillment

I’m glad I made that reservation. I wrote about it in my introduction to this post.

Without knowing it at the time, my experience there opened me up more fully to the nature and meaning of a couple of key distinctions: (1) being and doing; and (2) loving and fearing.

I got a taste of doing flowing naturally and spontaneously from being even as I was made more keenly aware of the difference between loving and fearing as a mutually supportive contrast.

Without fear, how would I ever know love?

I realized more fully that I am fulfilled as and when I give love expression through my being for my doing.

As I allowed my doing to flow from my being, and as I turned fearing into allowing through the influence of my loving, I approached mastery in the art of doing nothing … beautifully.

How beautiful it is to do nothing and then rest afterward: could this be a way of life?

Next up: Un.Self.Consciously (Living Within Your Own Nature)

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This post is one of many in an ongoing series that began here.

I’m not even sure how to begin this post, and so I’ll begin this post by not being sure.

The image of laboring in obscurity does not excite me, and yet, living in obscurity does hold a certain appeal for me.

I appreciate fully what it means to relish my privacy, solitude, and freedom, but only by coming to know, through experience, how it feels not to have my privacy, solitude, and freedom.

Obscurity … the very word oozes lack of significance.

To be obscure is to be unknown, to be inconspicuous, to be … unimportant (gasp!).

To be obscure is to create, direct, or produce something that is hard to understand.

Wherein lies the wisdom in obscurity? Perhaps Lao Tzu knows something we don’t.

Tao Te Ching, Verse 36

How do you wish to be seen?

How do you wish to be loved?

How do you wish to be known?

How do you wish to be desired?

How do you wish to be enjoyed?

The remedy for finding relief from the shadow of obscurity is so very simple it’s almost painful: see, love, know, desire, enjoy.

Should you want
to contain something,
you must deliberately
let it expand.

Should you want
to weaken something,
you must deliberately
let it grow strong.

Should you want
to eliminate something,
you must deliberately
allow it to flourish.

Should you want
to take something away,
you must deliberately
grant it access.

The lesson here is called
the wisdom of obscurity.
The gentle outlast the strong.
The obscure outlast the obvious.

Fish cannot leave deep waters,
and a country’s weapons
should not be displayed.

Edited slightly by yours truly to enhance the flow of text

Ref: Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao

If endurance is your need, then verse 36 is for you, but then perhaps this verse has more to offer than mere consolation.

Let us see if it does, to know wherein lies the wisdom of obscurity.

My Impressions of the Verse

The rhythmic pacing of the first four stanzas of this verse has much to recommend it, but the verse falls flat on the fifth and dies on the sixth.

Perhaps this is deliberate? Or just a consequence of nuances getting lost in translation?

As you read along, I invite you to entertain your own impressions …

Should you want
to contain something,
you must deliberately
let it expand.

Should I want to contain something natural, like the energy to express myself creatively while attending to an obligation, then I would do well to find a time and place to let this energy expand naturally.

Should you want
to weaken something,
you must deliberately
let it grow strong.

Should I suddenly want to weaken the intensity of a strong feeling or emotion, like anger or fear, then I would do well to enter a space where I can let it grow strong before allowing it to dissipate naturally.

Should you want
to eliminate something,
you must deliberately
allow it to flourish.

Should I want to eliminate clutter in the drawer of my desk, as it makes it hard to find what I’m looking for, then I would do well to allow it to flourish in my own mind so that I can dispel my resistance to it.

Should you want
to take something away,
you must deliberately
grant it access.

Should I suddenly want to withdraw my approval from something, as it seems to cause my discomfort, then I would do well to grant it access to my way of thinking so that I can allow it to inform me fully.

The lesson here is called
the wisdom of obscurity.
The gentle outlast the strong.
The obscure outlast the obvious.

The lesson here is to stay clear of the clouds of judgment so that I might hold the contrast and be the balance I wish to see.

By way of contrast and balance, and with a kind and gentle disposition, I stay calm and I stay warm – obscurity at its best.

Fish cannot leave deep waters,
and a country’s weapons
should not be displayed.

Obscurity has value: know when and where to remain anonymous so as to stay safe and secure.

Implications for Personal Fulfillment

Keeping your balance on the way to fulfillment by way of satisfaction is safe; it’s comfortable, and for many, relatively easy.

It’s also boring beyond belief (to others, not to you).

People have no desire to know you for your ability to keep your balance. They want to know how you lost your balance and then got it back again. They want to know how you keep losing your balance without losing your composure.

They long to lavish you with praise and recognition for being a loser and then a winner, for being a loser while also being a winner.

The winners who never lose, who never give the impression of losing, neither need nor want your praise or recognition. We know such winners by their attitudes and we temper our praise accordingly.

And then there are those who never want to lose, desperate to garner praise at every turn: “heads, I win; tails, you lose!”

But if you’re tired of winning and losing, or if you’re just plain bored with winning and losing, then the wisdom of obscurity would have us realize that a balanced life is enough – and good enough.

We need not go out of our way to be seen, loved, known, desired, or enjoyed to be valued.

We need only see, love, know, desire, and enjoy with easy invitations to reciprocity.

Next up: What if I Do Nothing? (Living in Simplicity)

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This post is one of many in an ongoing series that began here.

Historically, in many circles of influence, pleasure was given a bad name.

At dining tables, ancient philosophers explored, examined, and exercised the notion that “eat, drink, and be merry” is the best you can do. In little cubbyholes, religious ascetics harbored the notion that worldly pleasure invites the devil into the heart of your soul.

Nowadays, spiritual seekers everywhere insist that pleasure, worldly or otherwise, is your birthright.

With all of these conflicting points of view, who is right and who is wrong? Or is there even a right or wrong to be had where the pursuit of worldly pleasures and desires is concerned?

Must the risk of constant indulgence and shameless excess compel us to throw the baby out with the bathwater?

Or can pleasure be rescued from those who would repress it into extinction?

Tao Te Ching, Verse 35

As verse 35 makes clear, Lao Tzu was not a hedonic sage. He was not one to indulge worldly pleasures, not one to seek passing fancies.

Rather, he counselled, rather emphatically, that all of the pleasure you could possibly need or want can be found through your appreciation of, and your participation in, the Tao.

All seekers go to them
who keep to the One.
They flock to them
and receive no harm,
for in them they find
peace, security, happiness.

Music and dining
are passing pleasures,
yet they cause people to stop.
How bland and insipid
are the things of this world
when you compare them
to the Tao!

When you look for it,
there’s nothing to see;
when you listen for it,
there’s nothing to hear;
when you make use of it,
there’s nothing to exhaust.

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 is the way with Oriental thought, much is left to implication.

My Impressions of the Verse

When we think of pleasure, we oftentimes think of food, money, and sex; we think of eating, drinking, and being merry.

Where pleasure and desire are concerned, a clean, clear distinction can be made between pleasurable and enjoyable.

Pleasurable is purely biological; enjoyable is purely psychological. Having sex is pleasurable; making love is enjoyable.

All seekers go to them
who keep to the One.
They flock to them
and receive no harm,
for in them they find
peace, security, happiness.

The phrase, “keep to the One”, is our key to understanding this part of the verse.

To keep to the One is to see pleasure and desire through the eyes of enjoyment and to find enjoyment through pleasure and desire.

This requires that body, mind, heart, soul, and spirit are aligned consistently and harmoniously to the Way, to the One, to the Tao, where peace, security, and happiness reside.

Intuitively, many know this to be true for them: that the laws of creation can be discovered and observed, the fruits of which can be enjoyed.

Those who keep to the One are highly regarded and regularly sought after for these reasons.

Music and dining
are passing pleasures,
yet they cause people to stop.
How bland and insipid
are the things of this world
when you compare them
to the Tao!

This portion of the verse requires some careful interpretation.

Music and dining, in and of themselves, are passing pleasures, whenever pleasure is treated as paramount and enjoyment is bypassed, causing people to exit the flow found with the One.

That is, they abandon themselves to the music with Dionysian fervor after stuffing themselves with rich food and getting drunk on good wine.

What Lao Tzu is saying here is that if you make a habit of divorcing your pleasure from the Way, reducing desire to urge and impulse so that you miss the experience of enjoyment, the things of this world will (eventually) seem bland and insipid.

Pleasure and desire have their time and place with the Tao as and when the restraining influence of enjoyment is given its due.

When you look for it,
there’s nothing to see;
when you listen for it,
there’s nothing to hear;
when you make use of it,
there’s nothing to exhaust.

The formless Tao is invisible, inaudible, inexhaustible in all of its beauty and bounty.

For this reason, a spiritual alliance with the Tao requires discipline, which comes from and through satisfying a biological need for pleasure in tandem with fulfilling a psychological desire for enjoyment.

A fixation on the senses just won’t do.

Implications for Personal Fulfillment

Pleasure, desire, enjoyment: how might we best view them and treat them as we go about living our lives?

The missing ingredient here, the one that links pleasure with enjoyment, biology with psychology, is an attitude of gratitude.

Gratitude is a quality of thankfulness, of gratefulness, a readiness to express appreciation, a readiness to respond in kind.

When we infuse what we already have with gratitude, the need for pleasure is informed, a desire for enjoyment is inspired.

When I return home from a jog after facing icy winds, the adversity I faced stimulates a readiness to express appreciation for the warmth in my home, for the warmth, flavor, and aroma found in a mug of hot cocoa, informing my need of warmth, inspiring a desire to enjoy it yet again.

An attitude of gratitude is a disposition to receive and respond to the gift, the blessing, the offer, the favor.

An attitude of gratitude is the rich, fertile soil at the heart of soul from which the seeds of desire can sprout, grow, and bloom in the face of adversity, in response to the satisfaction of need, for the sake of enjoyment.

Without gratitude, pleasure never reaches fruition with enjoyment; desire turns obsessive and compulsive. Indulgence becomes inevitable.

With gratitude, alacrity welcomes adversity, from which appreciation can flow with pleasure into enjoyment by way of desire.

Next up: Obscurity Wisdom (Living in Obscurity)

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This post is one of many in an ongoing series that began here.