In chapter 15 of the Tao Te Ching Lao Tzu writes: Do you have the patience to wait Until your mud settles and the water becomes clear? Can you remain unmoving Until the right action arises by itself? There is great wisdom in these two questions for they speak to the heart of what often ails us. When faced with challenging situations (We will consider interpersonal relationships for the sake of this conversation.) we are often overcome with the impulse to react rather than having the patience to wait for them to unfold - at which point we are more likely to recognize right action. With this in mind let’s take a moment to look at these two questions but first, let’s consider the mechanism of our reactivity. When we react to a challenging situation what is actually happening within us? 1) There is an environmental stimulus (e.g., a slight by a coworker, an insensitive comment from a romantic partner, a non-cooperative child, etc.). 2) We judge that stimulus negatively; it doesn’t jibe with the way we think the world should be. 3) We have an emotional reaction as the result of our judgment. 4) We have a physiological reaction as the result of our emotional reaction. 5) We act, in order to alleviate the mental, emotional, and physiological tension that has arisen within us. Understanding this, let look at these two questions. Do you have the patience to wait Until your mud settles and the water becomes clear? While taking action in the midst of challenging situations can be cathartic it is often not productive because we take those actions under mental, emotional, and physiological stress. That stress is the stuff of Lao Tzu’s mud metaphor. That is, when we act under conditions of stress our vision is “muddy” and we incorrectly perceive the situation. Incorrectly perceiving the situation we often take wrong action. Hence Lao Tzu’s counsel to have the patience to wait until our mud settles (stress dissipates) and the water becomes clear. Can you remain unmoving Until the right action arises by itself? Having patience means to “remain unmoving;” not to take action. There are two benefits in not taking action until the mud has settled. First, not taking action until the mud settles prevents us from taking unproductive (or even destructive) action. Second, not taking action until the mud settles allows clarity of vision to give rise to right action. Note the language here - “give rise to right action.”
Lao Tzu tells us that “right action arises by itself” and this is true. The action needed in a given situation tends to emerge of its own accord when we can occupy a neutral position relative to that situation rather than being overly identified with it (Hopefully the reader recognizes this as different language summarizing what we’ve just discussed.). It can be hard to understand or have faith in this when we are in the midst of challenging situations, when the cathartic impulse to act is so strong. However, if we can manage to heed Lao Tzu’s counsel to have the patience to wait until the mud settles we will see, even after just a few instances, that he is correct. There is a popular poem by Rumi that begins: The way of love is not a subtle argument. The door there is devastation. There is much that can be said about this part of the poem, especially about the relationship between love and devastation but I will save that for another post at another time. What I want to discuss today is the second half of this poem: Birds make great sky-circles of their freedom. How do they learn it? They fall, and falling, they are given wings. I have a thing for raptors. I have always been mesmerized by their ability to stay aloft on invisible air currents. Sure, I understand the physics of all this. Nevertheless, I find the sight mesmerizing. Visually, it strikes me as an incredible act of freedom. Indeed, I spent many an hour one particular summer taking in such sight while seated on a butte in the Badlands of South Dakota. This is probably why the second half of Rumi’s poem interests me so much. Those “great sky-circles of freedom” reflect my own deep desire. Like Rumi, I, too, wonder, “How do they learn it?” Rumi gives the answer. “They fall, and falling, they are given wings.”
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a bird leaving the nest for the first time, hundreds or thousands of feet above the ground, never before having taken flight - falling… falling… falling… before ever having used your wings? What a tremendous act of faith that must be! What a risk taking! What a thrill! What fear! What hope! Yet without leaving the nest that first time, without tumbling into the unknown one cannot fall and if one cannot fall, one cannot be given wings. Of course Rumi is using this as a metaphor, by means of which he wishes to convey a spiritual lesson. In simple terms that lesson is this: one must let go of what one knows before one can become what one will become. Risk, Rumi is telling us, is the prerequisite for spiritual growth. What is it that Rumi wants us to risk? Everything! Spiritual growth requires that we free ourselves from the narrative we hold in our heads about who and what we are. We must relinquish our identification with everything from the historical facts of our being to the subjective experience of our being. That is, we must let go of things like birthdates, achievements, family dynamics, financial successes (or lack thereof), and romantic successes (or failures). We must let go of things like addictions, aversions, anxieties, pleasures, and neuroses. These historical facts and subjective experiences comprise the narrative that we hold in our heads about who and what we are. This narrative is our psychological nest. Rumi is telling us to let it go - to tumble into the unknown. Leaving this nest would seem an easy thing to do but it is not. The truth is that we are adamantly attached to that narrative. It is our identity, for better or worse. Relinquishing it is a daunting prospect. But until we do, until we leave this nest through an act of faith, until we take that risk, until we experience the thrill, the fear, and the hope such leave taking entails, we will not fall and if we cannot fall, we cannot be given wings. Come! Soar with me! Namaste Alex |
Archives
March 2023
Categories
All
|