Month: November 2007

A Sunny Fall Day

Despite the fact I’d already attended my 6:30 T’ai Chi class and my 8:00 Pilates class, and taken Skye on his 30 minute walk, when I read that yesterday was predicted to be the only sunny day all week, I headed out to Nisqually, tired knees, sore ankle and all, and I wasn’t in the least disappointed though I doubt I took a single photograph that will last past the next editing session.

I’ll admit I WAS a little disappointed to discover that Taco La Fuentes, my favorite Mexican-restaurant-in-a-bus was closed and that I had to settle for a glass of Porter, barbecued chips, and a Reuben at a nearby bar instead of my usual fare before heading out to take photos. Sometimes roughing it leads to better photos.

Not today, though. Instead, I found myself taking pictures of summer’s leaves floating in a creek that next spring will Spring forth with new life,

Leaves floating in Pond

wondering why we insist on cleaning up leaves when they seem to produce such abundant new life when left to Fall naturally.

And here in the wilds of the Pacific Northwest the dropping of leaves doesn’t mean bare trees because with the sudden increase in light, ferns suddenly burst out in vivid greens from bare branches:

Fern growing from tree branch

But there are no new birds, and most of the day is spent taking more shots of birds that I’ve already taken too many pictures of, in some vain hope of getting a better shot than I already have, forced in the end to settle for the sheer joy of seeing what I’ve seen many times before:

Cedar Waxwing eating fruit

Still, even when you’ve seen it all before, there’s a certain thrill in seeing the first American Bittern of the season, especially after having spent most of the year looking in vain:

American Bittern

And perhaps, even, the slightest bit of pride in being able to share the discovery with visitors who have walked by it but are excited to see the bird for the first time.

Judge Not Lest

I’d like to say that I remembered section 2 as well as I remembered section 11, but I’m afraid I’d be lying if I claimed that. In fact I didn’t remember it all, probably because in grad school I was so busy learning the best way to judge what is good or bad that this idea had no chance to register.

2

All the world knows beauty
but if that becomes beautiful
this becomes ugly
all the world knows good
but if that becomes good
this becomes bad
the coexistence of have and have not
the coproduction of hard and easy
the correlation of long and short
the codependence of high and low
the correspondence of note and noise
the coordination of first and last
is endless
thus the sage performs effortless deeds
and teaches wordless lessons
he doesn’t start all the things he begins
he doesn’t presume on what he does
he doesn’t claim what he achieves
and because he makes no claim
he suffers no loss

It should be obvious to anyone who reads my blog that I occasionally, perhaps more than occasionally, make judgements about the world and what I see. To do so seems human nature, at least part of my nature. It’s certainly part of our culture, and a large part of what I learned to do in the nineteen years I attended school.

I’d like to think that carrying my camera around and looking at the world more closely has helped me to be less judgmental, to see the beauty in all things if I can but see them in the proper light — at least that seems true in the natural world.

Perhaps when I’m a little further along toward self-enlightenment I shall become less judgmental on other matters. At least I’m far enough along that I can see the wisdom in several of the wise men’s comments on this passage that Red Pine cites:

LU HSI-SHENG Says, “What we call beautiful or ugly depends on our feelings. Nothing is necessarily beautiful or ugly until feelings make it so. But while feelings differ, they all come from our nature, and we all have the same nature. Hence the sage transforms his feelings and returns to his nature and thus becomes one again.”

WANG AN-SHIH says, “The sage creates but does not possess what he creates. He acts but does not presume on what he does. He succeeds but does not claim success These three all result from selflessness. Because the sage is selfless, he does not lose his self. Because he does not lose his self, he does not lose others.”

SUNG CH’ANG-HSING says, “Those who practice the Way put an end to distinctions, get rid of name and form, and make of themselves a home for the Way and Virtue.”

Noted

Just a quick note to let you know that I added a couple of Galleries to my blog photo album. All the photos are taken from past entries, so if you’re a long time visitor “Just keep on moving. Nothing to see here.”

To make it easier to actually find the galleries, I’ve also added links over in the left-hand column, with the title for the four galleries I’ve completed so far.

I expect to do more, but I’m always a little surprised at how many photos I’ve published and how long it takes to sort through them, list them, and then import them into Galleries. I.e., don’t count on any more for a week or two. Oh, and you can thank Mike for these since he requested a link for a friend.

Back to the Tao

I first read the Tao Te Ching in a graduate class more than twenty years ago and section 11 made such an impression on me that I still remember it today. Like all great poetry it made me see the world in a different way, in a way I had never considered before. Here’s Red Pine’s translation of section 11 of Lao Tzu’s Taoteching:

Thirty spokes converge on a hub
but it’s the emptiness
that makes a wheel work
pots are fashioned from clay
but it’s the hollow
that makes a pot work
windows and doors are carved for a house
but it’s the spaces
that make a house work
existence makes something useful
but nonexistence makes it work

And here are three of several different interpretations of this passage that Red Pine cites:

LI-JUNG says, “It’s because the hub is empty that spokes converge on it. Likewise, it’s because the sage’s mind is empty that the people turn to him for help.”

WU CH ‘ ENG says, ‘All of these things are useful. But without an empty place for an axle, a cart can’t move. Without a hollow place in the middle, a pot can’t hold things. Without spaces for doors and windows, a room can’t admit people or light. But these three examples are only metaphors. What keeps our body alive is the existence of breath in our stomach. And it is our empty, nonexistent mind that produces breath.”

TE-CH’ING says. “Heaven and Earth have form, and everyone knows that Heaven and Earth are useful. But they don’t know that their usefulness depends on the emptiness of the Great Way. Likewise, we all have form and think ourselves useful but remain unaware that our usefulness depends on our empty, shapeless mind. Thus existence may have its uses, but real usefulness depends on nonexistence. Nonexistence, though, doesn’t work by itself. It needs the help of existence.”

When I first read the passage I was struck by the same ideas that Wu Ch’Eng begins with. It is the hub that holds the axle and makes the wheel useful, and yet we ignore it. We admire the color of the China, but it’s the empty shape that is most important. I suppose I paid less attention to the last line “nonexistence makes it work,” or, if I did, I cannot remember what I thought it meant.

After several years of reading Asian literature and practicing meditation, though, it’s the last line that seems most significant. On one level, perhaps, the Tao itself is “nonexistence,” and it is the Tao that makes existence work. If you’ve spent much time meditating, you can begin to believe that “empty mind,” makes the rest of your life work. Empty mind leads to awareness, and awareness makes everything else possible.