Introduction to Tao

Tao may not be defined, although people are always trying to define it.
The dictionary gives it a shot:
     ...the course of life and its relation to eternal truth.
     ...that in virtue of which all things happen or exist.
And here's a very interesting definition: 
     ...it is the open road of escape from the solitary confinement of individuality.
Taoism is easier to define, since it describes what certain people do:
The dictionary, again:
...philosophical system developed by Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu advocating a simple honest life and noninterference with the course of natural events.

And according to a crow:
Tao: That which one did not realize one was part of.
Taoism: The one thing that one should never do.
Taoist: One who still thinks in terms of labels.

The Fool welcomes you...

...to the final post in this series. 
Everything here is original. No quotes, no re-runs.
It exists for one reason:
Online "taoists" are thick on the ground. 
But taoism is exceedingly rare. 
Few understand it, still fewer demonstrate it. 
So here it is, experienced for real, all I  have learned, 
from the source, itself.  As seen by a fool.

That's right: a Fool. 
For what is a crow, if not a fool? 
Is This Fool a taoist?
NO! It is NOT! 
It is a FOOL! 
But even better: it is a crow :) 
Who will be the first to say:
"He's doing it wrong"? 

Tao. Twenty Five.

Asked "What is tao?", 
the Master only smiles. 

His answer is his smile.

No words convey it, no teachings need be quoted.
No thoughts demand framing, no sermons clamor to be preached.

Why is this?

Tao does not live inside words, or thoughts,
manners or actions.

Anyone may learn words, and succeed in repeating them back.
Many do.
Anyone may learn to be, and merge mysteriously into the moment.
But few do.

His answer is his smile.
Tao is smiling him.

Calm: Twenty Four.

The Master does not own an iPod. 
Thus his mind is his own. 

He doesn't own much else, either.
No mobile phone, no mp3 player, no laptop...

Observe people, everywhere:
see how they bop and jerk to the beat of  various stimuli.
Hear the drone of radios in every workplace,
every restaurant, surgery, dental clinic, hospital.
Even parking lots have piped music.

It is becoming increasingly difficult to escape this rhythmic intrusion.
People even carry it around with them, wherever they go.
Madness results.

Search out silence, and the muted sounds of nature.
Your mind will become your own again.
And you will sleep better.

Charity: Twenty Three.

The Master may choose to offer help. 
He may also choose not to.

One may think an enlightened being would be disposed to run around helping people.
But an enlightened being might see things differently.
What is help anyway?

Industry is necessary to survival.
One may industriously perform those tasks that are necessary to provide food and shelter.
Or one may choose, by inactivity, to be cold and hungry.

Seeing someone who is cold and hungry,
The Master may decide to be charitable.
Or he may see that this coldness and hunger are the inevitable result of laziness and sloth.

Help is only help if it helps.
It is of no help at all, if it results only in dependency.

The Master is not charitable in order to feel good about himself.
He feels neither good, nor bad.
He is the Master.

Identity: Twenty Two.

The Master has no identity. 
None know who he is. 
He left who he was 
at the gates of heaven.

Enlightenment is a state that none may achieve
unless they are able to leave their identity behind.

People speak often of ego, not knowing what ego is.
Ego is who you think you are.

Who you are, seems important to those who have an identity.
While having no importance at all, to those who do not.

Abandoning your identity can fill you with a great dread.
With courage, and trust, you may discard yourself.

To discover that, without yourself,
you are far, far more than you were before.

Serenity: Twenty One.

The Master welcomes mosquitoes and allows them to feed. 
Others think him mad. 
Others itch and scratch, 
While The Master remains serene.

Mosquitoes. Who could like them?
I have never met anyone who does.

I have come to see mosquitoes as things of fragile beauty.
Teachers who teach without teaching.

Like anyone, I used to jump up and down, swatting and cursing.
Then I would itch, and then I would scratch.

Now I share my blood with them: realizing I have plenty to share.
I wait for them to finish, since to interrupt might injure or kill.

And now I do not itch.
And now I do not scratch.

Pretense: Twenty.

The Master finds it easier to be what he is, 
than to try to pretend he is what he is not.

There is value in doing what comes naturally.
There is less value in expending energy, unnecessarily.

Being what you are requires no effort,
unless you have forgotten what you are.

Remembering what you are, may be difficult, requiring effort.
But this effort is well spent, and need never be repeated.

Learning: Nineteen.

There is nothing to learn.
That is why it is so difficult to learn it.

Enlightenment arrives with a delighted laugh.
The realization that it is all so simple!

And it really is.
There is no great secret, no arcane ritual to perform.
Nothing to learn and nothing to know.
The abandonment of every notion leads to contentment.

Let it all go.
Be calm.
Simply.
Be.

Travelling: Eighteen.

The Master does not engage in meditation... 
...any more...

Meditation is like a bus trip.
Having a goal in mind, we must undertake a journey.

We board the bus, and quietly sit.
Our usual thoughts are let go, as we notice new and more interesting things go by, outside the windows.

By and by, we near our destination.
We return to the moment, arise, and disembark.

There we are.
Our journey is complete.

It is necessary to stop, if the journey is ever to be completed.

Ownership: Seventeen.

The Master owns nothing, 
but has everything.

Ownership is an important part of any civilization.
Money is paid, a deed of ownership given in exchange.
It is important to remember that this is an illusion...

I own a small forest.
But it could be more accurately said
that the small forest owns me.

Lying back and gazing into the treetops,
filled with birds, squirrels and raccoons,
I am aware:

I do not own this small forest:
I am the forest, and the forest is me.

Truth: Sixteen.

Truth may not get you what you want. 
Truth will get you what you get.

What do you want?
Be careful: Wanting something may be dangerous.

Speaking truthfully has consequences.
Just like speaking untruthfully.

By speaking the truth, you will never deviate from your own, unique path.
By not speaking truth, you have left the path of what could have been, and embarked upon the path that was never yours to travel.

Words Of Wisdom: Fifteen.

Words of Wisdom are a description of wisdom. 
They are not the wisdom itself.

Read, reflect, contemplate, digest.
Here are words that best describe a life.
They are but entertainment.
Second-hand.

In these words are tears and blood,
joy and sorrow.
In these words are experience.
But not yours.

Wisdom, if sought, can be found.
Its price is high.
It will cost you your life.
But, happily, you can afford this.

Without experience, there can be no wisdom.

May your life be filled with challenge.
May you live in interesting times.

Mind: Fourteen.

The master thinks when he chooses to. 
He is able to choose not to.

The mind is very useful:
It is able to look back.
It is able to look forward.
But it is not able to see where it is.

Looking back, it can learn from what has been.
Looking forward, it can learn what might be.
Like an eye, it has a blind spot:
It is unable to see itself, or where it is.

Awareness allows existence.
Without it, there is no present moment.

Stopping the mind allows the stopping of time.
Awareness is all that remains.

The master uses his mind as he chooses to.
But his awareness is where he lives.

The Master: Who is he, anyway?

The master does not know who he is. 
He has forgotten, while discovering what he is. 


Sometimes people ask if "the master" to whom I often refer, is me.
No. He is not. Although, sometimes, he might be...

Mastery is something to which I aspire.
Knowing full well, that I miss the mark more often than I hit it.
If, at moments, I am the master, the last thing I consider, is to call myself that.

The master is an attainable state.
Like the weather:
Calm, sunny, benign.
Or a cyclone, wielding unimaginable fury.

The Crow - the actual crow - after whom I pattern a part of myself, was a master.
But he did not know it.
How could he? He was only being what he was.

And we, foolish people, concerned with who we are, and how others see us:
We might do well to consider the crow: we alone, it seems, have no idea of what we are.