
Daily Musings
This month, several living beings that have been part of my life have moved on–and one more, I feel, is about to.
This Daily Musing is not about death as “loss.” Instead, it’s about that window of time, just before and just after–and the gentle ripple of effect that rolls out and touches those who allow themselves to be aware (and how it seems to bounce off those who are unaware). The window all living beings will one day experience–and its connection to illusion.
A family friend, best friend of my stepfather, died last week. Lung cancer. Within a few days, my mother and stepfather’s dog, a best friend for over 20 years, also died. It was just the kind of thing that has to happen. When it’s time to move along your journey, it’s just a matter of finishing the final chapter in one book and starting the next. As Chuang-Tzu reminds us, it’s like a butterfly emerging from a coccoon. There was a time before you existed, and there will be a time after you exist (the way you do now). Holding onto transient things only drains you.
As some out there in the world are closing the cover and picking up the next volume of existence, there are others who are just beginning new chapters. Opening the cover for the first time. Friends whom I’ve known for years are brimming with life. Children. New things to work on. Projects. Pets. Picnics. Life. The cycle is always at a different place for each person, for each set of people, for each living creature–turning for everyone, always rolling along without judgment or expectation. It’s fascinating, thrilling, engaging to see this.
As my former boss (a gigantic private investigator who used to play football for the Oakland Raiders) used to say – “It is what it is.” It’s what his coach always said. It’s been deemed a meaningless statement by the media, yet it’s really very Tao in depth. Why does it happen? Because it happens.
A lady I have known for 4 years is finishing her book very soon. She is 98 years old. I have this feeling she’s close to complete, that her Jing is nearly gone. It’s not bad or good. It just is.
The same day I found out about her situation–the silliness of the unimportant world pops in.
A friend’s 18-year old son verbally scolds her for being 45 minutes late to pick him up from class, when her lunch and doctor visit take longer than expected. The same boy is ungrateful for a brand new car his parents bought just for him–because he thinks it’s a “chick car.” While he broods over whether vehicles are “girly,” another friend is now facing huge damages to their only car, because someone was careless and drove recklessly, without insurance, without anything–and rammed into the side of them. Their only form of transportation, now crippled, is held onto with respect and care, while some who are given cars and access and money are simply annoyed at the brand they’ve been “stuck” with. Still another friend is concerned about not being able to purchase an (unnecessary for daily survival) $8,000 item as fast as she wants, while other friends can barely pay their electric bills.
I am struck by the strangeness of what Taoism calls the “illusionary world.” The world of things which don’t really matter–like Starbucks and desks, 9 to 5 days, brand names, identitiy labels. We live with them all the time, yet many people cling to them like they matter more than anything else. While some living things are going through transformations, others are mired in the illusion, almost without (or perhaps ignoring) compassion for others.
And yet–illusion and reality are both part of the same big ball. Neither is better or worse. They are just tied together. Balancing yourself between both worlds (being able to exist in both, while letting neither side control everything) is key.
Be happy with what you have. Consider how your actions impact those around us. Dammit, enjoy Starbucks and a good video game when you can–but don’t be fooled into thinking that owning all the latest games and guzzling 5 gallons a day is the way to true happiness and balance.
Excerpts from the Tao Teh Ching, translated by Stephen Mitchell:
10
Can you coax your mind from its wandering
and keep to the original oneness?
Can you let your body become
supple as a newborn child’s?
Can you cleanse your inner vision
until you see nothing but the light?
Can you love people and lead them
without imposing your will?
Can you deal with the most vital matters
by letting events take their course?
Can you step back from you own mind
and thus understand all things?
Giving birth and nourishing,
having without possessing,
acting with no expectations,
leading and not trying to control:
this is the supreme virtue.
16
Empty your mind of all thoughts.
Let your heart be at peace.
Watch the turmoil of beings,
but contemplate their return.
Each separate being in the universe
returns to the common source.
Returning to the source is serenity.
If you don’t realize the source,
you stumble in confusion and sorrow.
When you realize where you come from,
you naturally become tolerant,
disinterested, amused,
kindhearted as a grandmother,
dignified as a king.
Immersed in the wonder of the Tao,
you can deal with whatever life brings you,
and when death comes, you are ready.
Can you step back from you own mind and thus understand all things?
Beautiful post
Stephen Mitchell’s translation is wonderful. I think if I buy another book, it must be this one.
I have noticed, more than anything else these past two months, how saying yes to what life wants translates in everyday living. It is vastly different than trying to make things happen, than “getting a life”.
There is an effortlessness that enters into the spaciousness around all content and form when life is greeted with a simple yes. Then living is easy and the changes you describe are able to express their own beauties and truths.
XOXOXOXO