Surfing the World of Opposites: Tao Te Ching 2

2.

Once we perceive beauty in the world, 

we also discern ugliness.

After we gain knowledge of goodness, 

we also recognize evil.

Existence and the void give birth to each other. 

Difficult and easy determine each other.

Long and short measure each other.

High and low position each other.

Tone and silence 

make melodies together.

Before and after 

march in the same parade. 

Therefore, the sage manages life 

without dominating,

and teaches through living, 

rather than preaching.

She lets the living things sprout 

without judging them, 

then lets them flourish 

without trying to own them. 

The sage creates art 

Without making it her identity. 

When her art is complete, she lets it be.

This is why it endures forever.

Reflection

This is an important chapter as it sets forth Lao Tzu’s perspective on the cosmos and also the ways in which opposites reveal each other. Many lines will likely sound foreign to many Western readers. Yet, if we consider that early Christian thinkers like Origen of Alexandria argued that our ability to recognize evil is in a sense an indication that there is a supreme good (thoughfor him this involved a hazy recollection of a perfect reality known to the human soul because it existed in the realm of the heavens before becoming embodied on earth; but that’s a whole different conversation), and St. Augustine’s idea that evil is non-existent, but is a privation or absence of the good, we can see that this isn’t too far off from an insight many sages around the world have encountered.

Some interpreters have worried that this text and other descriptions of the famous yin/yang duality in the world overlook the problem of pain and evil. That’s not exactly how this works. We’ll address this question and try to correct false assumptions about yin and yang throughout the course of this book. What matters at this point is that Lao Tzu observes that the natural world (the “ten thousand things”: as it’s called in the original) comes into observable form. This chapter is about “relativity” only to the extent that our language and concepts are relative to other things. This has nothing to do with the idea that truth is whatever you want it to be, that you can create your own reality through positive thinking, or there isn’t anything that one might say is in fact true. Rather, it’s about the importance of silence, negative space, and the relationships that connect everything and everyone in our world. 

Indeed, right from the start, this chapter provides a conception of enduring truth. The original Chinese word we render “perceive” is zhī (知). The components of this character are interesting. The rectangle represents a mouth. The rest represents an arrow. So, it suggests that truth is about speaking words that hit the target: they are accurate. Truth, then, isn’t so much about accumulating a bunch of facts, it is about being aligned with the facts, and being honest about the state of things. [Note that in the Jewish and Christian tradition, sin is about missing the mark, as when an arrow strays from the target.]

This chapter introduces the idea of “surfing the Tao” or Wu Wei (無為), which some translate as acting by not acting. We’ll learn a whole lot more about what this concept is and isn’t as we proceed through the Tao Te Ching. For now, remember that it is about learning not to force things, letting go of micromanagement, and being as natural as possible as one flows through life, with a bold but tranquil acceptance of truth. 

Note that we’ve decided to use “she” or feminine pronouns for the “Sage” in almost every case. With the exception of Stephen Mitchell’s free translation (which alternates between male and female pronouns), the sage is assumed to be male in almost all English versions. We wanted to go with Lao Tzu’s preference for the feminine principle, but we also wanted to make sure this text is inspiring and accessible to women of all ages, especially those who have too often been excluded from thinking that their calling in life might be to be a Sage. Despite this, be assured that becoming a sage is possible for you, whatever your gender.

We will assume that becoming a sage is the whole point of life and especially the study of this text. Not everyone actually cares to become a sage, of course, but such people will likely not find much of value in these chapters. The original Chinese word behind “sage” is “shen ren” (聖人) which is literally “holy person,” so we could have used “saint,” but that might miss the point of the deep wisdom that’s involved rather than simply a blameless life. The first character suggests a person with both good speech and also listening skills. How’s that for wisdom!

The Tao Te Ching speaks of anonymous ancient sages and the archetypal sage. For this concept, we usually will use “Taosurfer” to describe these ideal folks and “taosurfing” to describe the way in which a sage works to live in harmony with the Tao through non-action (Wu Wei).

Finally, throughout our version, we tend to emphasize life as form of high art and the importance of physical creation as the place where this art take form. In all this, we find that if we have inflated egos and want to live on in glory for generations to come, the best way to achieve this is by not caring about it. That is, the legacies of love we offer to others in this embodied existence are what will outlast our mortal existence. The rest of our empires of dirt will burn up like chaff ultimately. In this, there will be resonances with the Hebrew Bible though not as many with some (false) Christian rejections of embodiment and focus on a disembodied afterlife. [Originally and historically, Christians do not teach that humans become disembodied spirits, playing harps on the clouds, but rather proclaim a renewed heaven and earth to come in the last day.]

If you join us for this exploration into the Tao Te Ching, please don’t be bashful about using our peculiar terms from this translation. We aren’t interested in trademarking “surfing the Tao” or “Taosurfing,” because we think that if it is a helpful way to understand Lao Tzu, and if it’s useful to others, it will outlast us so long as we don’t try to own the terms. After all, if we should attempt to “own” important concepts, people will not use it as shorthand for the complex concept of Wu Wei.

The big takeaway of the chapter is this: a surefire way to be irrelevant is to always care about being relevant. Be present, compassionate, and kind, and you’ll be unforgettable to those who receive your gifts of love. In a sense, this is true even for God’s activities, according to the Hebrew Psalter. Consider this stanza that celebrates the everlasting:

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.

His love endures forever.

Give thanks to the God of gods.

His love endures forever.

Give thanks to the Lord of lords:

His love endures forever.

       (Psalm 136: 1-4)