Growth Mindset (Tao Te Ching 49)

49

The Sage is not closed-minded 

but considers what ordinary folks

have on their minds.

I am good to those who are good.

I am good to those who are not good.

This is the goodness of Te.

I hope in those who are hopeful.

I hope in those who are hopeless.

This is the hope of Te.

The Sage is engaged with the world.

She brings balance to the world 

by carefully uniting her heart with it.

Ordinary folks, hearing her wisdom

turn their attention to her actions.

So she sets a wise example for them

as if they were her own children.

Written Reflection (by Jeff Mallinson)

I must confess that I can see—all too clearly—ways in which this chapter might be misread and lead to unhealthy relationship. Over the years, I’ve poured a lot of energy into what some call energy vampires, folks who suck the life out of others without nourishing them. At first, this doesn’t sound so bad from an altruistic, spiritual angle. After all, by loving unconditionally, establishing non-transactional relationships, and loving even our enemies, aren’t we doing what saints and sages have always commended?

Before we can understand what hoping in the hopeless is about, or what being good to the wicked might mean, it’s first important too recognize that there are in fact predatory, parasitic, and poisonous relationship traps all about us. We need not walk amid them in fear, but it does us no good to ignore their potential damage. True relationships are built on mutuality. Surely there are times when we lend a hand to someone who is stuck in a rut, but at the core of everything must be true camaraderie. The alternative is what they call codependency.

With that aside, we can look at the positive application of this text.

First, the wise person is never closed off to the thoughts, perceptions, and ideas of even the lowliest members of society. Indeed, in a business, community group, or sports team, there are often quiet observers who can add some insight to systems and operations. In spirituality, we can be quick to dismiss—through labeling and condemning—everything that seems foreign or threatens our view of the world. But ask yourself, if you have to shield yourself from other opinions, do you really have an ideology that can stand up on its own?

Only with humility and courage can we realize what truly is good, true and beautiful in the world. And thus, the openness of the sage to ordinary folks is not a matter of condescension but of personal growth and transformation. The sage isn’t wishy-washy or interested in looking woke; rather, she realizes that—many times—the folks on the fringes of the system or at the bottom of the hierarchy might have wisdom to share, wisdom she might not be able to find anywhere else.

Then, there’s a more miraculous and joyous spiritual gambit discussed in this chapter. By hoping in those who seem hopelessly deluded, radical transformation can occur. We’ve seen this in our own lives. By prayerfully committing to treat our enemies as objects of mercy and believing that there still a spark of goodness in them—like the dying Anakin Skywalker—or the chance for their hearts to grow a few sizes larger—like the Grinch, but not like cardiomegaly —we have seen people turn around dramatically.

The key to all of this is not naiveté or gullibility but rather the power of Taosurfing to heal and attract those who have lost their way.

Having studied the history of religious people and their attempts to navigate “the world,” it is clear that there are some folks who think that the spiritual path is to withdraw altogether from material existence. This is not the prescription here. Rather, the sage mixes with the dust of the earth. She gets planted in the fertile soil. And like Jesus, when he was accused of getting his hands too dirty with the profane world. Consider Luke 7:31-35:

“To what, then, can I compare the men of this generation? What are they like? They are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling out to one another: 

‘We played the flute for you, 

and you did not dance; 

we sang a dirge, 

and you did not weep.’

For John the Baptist came neither eating bread nor drinking wine, and you say, ‘He has a demon!’  The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and you say, ‘Look at this glutton and drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ But wisdom is vindicated by all her children.”

In other words, the way of Jesus was not ascetic but engaged everyday life and the folks who lived it. The last line of the citation above is one of the most helpful pieces of advice for all who seek to outfox religious wolves and other manipulators. The message is this: we must always ask what sort of people a way of thinking produces. So, if a guru, movement, idea, or institution produces nasty children, move along for your own good. Or at least keep things at arms’ length. This is harder to live out that it may seem, since it often turns out that our closest associates and connections might be bringing you into a bad mental and spiritual space by their misguided and poisonous perspective.

But by moving on, we don’t mean total abandonment. Rather, with Walter Wink (Engaging the Powers, 1992) we can affirm that the powers of this age are fallen but redeemable. Not in their present form, granted, and not in the sense that they can remain dominating powers. But all things can grow into a better, more beautiful existence.

So can you. Do you have the humble courage to give it a shot?