It Can't Always be Stormy (Tao Te Ching 23)

23

 Follow nature’s example,

and say only what you need to say,

then rest in silence.

Storms blow across hills in the morning,

then give way to stillness.

Rain bursts from thunderclouds in the afternoon,

then the evening sky enjoys silence.

Why is this? 

It is the way of heaven and earth.

So, if even the storms of heaven and earth

don’t rage on ceaselessly

why should we humans?

Those who surf the Tao

flow with the Tao.

Those who channel Te

embody Te.

Those who focus on loss,

wallow in loss.

Those who surf the Tao discover

that the Tao gladly receives them.

Those who channel Te find

that Te is on their side.

Those who focus on loss learn

that misery loves company.

Those who are overly suspicious

are suspect.

Written Reflection

This chapter presents an important invitation to release from inner torment, so long as we are clear about what is not meant by it. If we misunderstand this chapter, we fall into a tragic problem found within some popular New Age, and Christian televangelist charlatanism: that people who suffer are responsible for their own misery. This is indeed a delicate subject. On the one hand, there is of course a way in which we reap what we sow, and there is certainly a way in which focusing on bad aspects of any situation makes matters worse. On the other hand, there is such a thing as gratuitous, underserved suffering that cannot be overcome simply by a positive mental attitude or the law of attraction or some self-willed sort of “faith.” 

Most importantly, people who have experienced trauma need to be freed from any false shame they experience, along with the primary manifestations of their suffering. Unfortunately, when injustices come to innocent and vulnerable people, they often are prone to interpret this in a way that maintains a sense of moral order to the universe—which entails that they deserve their fate—even at the expense of compassion for themselves. 

With that caveat, it is also notable that this chapter provides real wisdom about our ability to find agency within a world that includes both joy and suffering. We allude to the adage “misery loves company” in our rendering because it seems to us to capture this ancient Chinese wisdom, which invites us to ask ourselves: In which mental space shall we choose to live? If we want to dwell on pain, pain is happy to welcome us to the pity party. If, however, we want to learn to surf the Tao and flow peacefully with life, the Tao is also glad to welcome us to that flow.  

As Alan Watts once remarked about Taoism, it seems like cheating to many religious people, regardless of their identification. Religious people, after all, are often tempted to take pride in the seriousness of their commitments, the pedigree of their gurus or clergy, and the rigor with which they pursue the spiritual path. They resent the idea of Lao Tzu and others that we might simply stop playing the religious game altogether and, ironically, find ourselves in possession of the peace sought by those who have spent years in prostration, flagellation, fasting, kneeling, and pilgrimages. He illustrates this by comparing the spiritual quest to a locomotive engine uncoupling from a long train of boxcars. One might go through the trouble of detaching each car from the back, one by one. This is a common religious approach. One might also learn a “cheat,” however and simply detach the engine from the front and roll away from the heavy load with ease. This is the way of grace (which U2’s Bono describes as traveling “outside of Karma”) and the way of the Tao surfer. 

It isn’t cheating, in the end, it’s the answer to the whole riddle. It’s the prize. And it’s yours if you can let yourself trust in it, even as it seems too good to be true. Now, it’s not easy in the sense that it’s not easy to trust, and it’s hard to keep ourselves from sabotaging our own joy. But the point is that the universe will welcome you to the joyful party, if you’re ready for it. To use theistic language: God isn’t some old grey-haired dude in the sky out to get you any time you start to feel happiness and joy. Whatever that voice is, it’s appropriate to call that Satan (for Abrahamic traditions) which means “accuser,” what Siddhartha Gautama experienced as Mara, the tempter who confronted him beneath his Bodhi tree.  

The lesson is that there are a bunch of forces and people that would invite you into their pity party. But there is also an invitation extended to you to the party-party. We know it’s hard to breathe deep in faith sometimes, especially when we’ve been let down so many times before. But if you are in a self-imposed hell, don’t be afraid love yourself enough to unimpose it.  

So, don’t hyperventilate. Instead, wait for your moment, and when the time is right, feel free to roar. Then, after roaring, return to noble tranquility. Behold the beautiful landscape you’ve cleared of imps and ghouls partly through your trust in a holy power that was always yours but maybe was sometimes unseen. You’ve got this.