Verse 21
The Master keeps her mind
always at one with the Tao;
that is what gives her her radiance.
The Tao is ungraspable.
How can her mind be at one with it?
Because she doesn't cling to ideas.
The Tao is dark and unfathomable.
How can it make her radiant?
Because she lets it.
Since before time and space were,
the Tao is.
It is beyond is and is not.
How do I know this is true?
I look inside myself and see.
---
Brent reminded me recently of something his friend Lee told him - "Brent, you're always in eagle. Sometimes you need to be in mouse." That was sort of how a lot of last week felt for me: I couldn't stop seeing the big picture for long enough to actually get anything done - or if I did do something, it didn't feel like I had many any dent in all the things I should be doing. It was at the point where I told Brent a few days ago, "As long as someone is asking me to do something with them or pointing me towards something to do I'm okay. When I have to decide what to do, though, I start thinking about everything there is to do and I freak out a little." I felt bad that I was here leading a relatively cushy life and not really doing anything for anyone else, rather than, I don't know, distributing food and medicine to refugees or helping African farmers develop and implement practices that would increase their yields while being sustainable. I told Brent that I felt like the best thing for me to do if I really wanted to make a living by providing inarguably beneficial services, the most valuable thing I could do would be to become a doctor, but I don't think I have the heart or the head or even the hands for it. He said, "Then that's not the best thing for you to do."
And then there's homework, and all the textbook chapters I feel like I should be reading (it's funny, I can't recall ever spending a whole lot of regular time reading textbooks before, but now I suddenly feel like it's something I have to do), and why haven't I put together a proper curriculum vitae yet so I have something to give to professors who I want to ask for recommendations, or do I not actually want that legislative internship I was applying for next semester, and shouldn't I figure out what to say for my toast at the wedding? And things are never clean, and I'm not spending enough time exercising, I looked so good this summer and now my abs are pretty much gone again, and Brent says it's nice that I look a little softer and curvier, but I should have more time to work on these things.
It's okay. I've been better over the past few days. Felt less like a complete waste of life; been able to focus more on my accomplishments and taking things one at a time and not worrying so much. This weekend I did my postlab and review a couple chapters in my organic chemistry book. I went birdwatching with a group from my animal behavior class. I read the chapter on climate change in my ecology textbook. I did an ab workout and went running with Wilford. I started working on my CV so I can get my recommendations in time for the application deadline for that legislative internship. I breathed.
This, I suppose, is the radiance of not clinging to ideas. It's not having a mindset - being able to switch from eagle to mouse to anything else, as needed. The Tao is flow, which means not letting yourself get stuck. Which means doing things, not overthinking them to the point where you can't do anything. When a task comes up you do it. If you can't do it, you don't. And you feel good, because you are balanced.
The world is dark and unfathomable. How can we be radiant in it?
We already are.
This weekend, for me, has been about remembering to be where I am and what I am. The tasks that I need to do will come to me and I will do them. The tasks that I cannot do I will have to remember not to carry with me - they will only hold me down. Sometimes it won't feel like enough and I'll wonder why I even bother, when nothing I can do will ever be enough. Hopefully then I'll remember the beauty of never being full, and will continue with the task in front of me.
Does anything really matter, when we're talking on scales of before time and space, and beyond is and is not? Maybe not - at least, not any of the things that people think matter. You could take that and turn it into a feeling of uselessness and insignificance. Or you could find the radiance.
I'm not going to say that I'm feeling better now because I've found the Tao. Really, I think, it was just that the funk I was in couldn't last forever; eventually emotional equilibrium will restore itself. But isn't that itself the Tao? The unending cycle of dark and bright, of balance being reached and thrown off and reached again, the joys and sorrows of always seeking and never finding? (Fun fact - dopamine doesn't trigger pleasure so much as it triggers pleasure-seeking. In some ways we are build to be more satisfied with a chase than with a catch. Stillness and motion).
What I've done is always in the past; the present is all learning and trying and reaching. The ungraspable will make you radiant if you let it.
always at one with the Tao;
that is what gives her her radiance.
The Tao is ungraspable.
How can her mind be at one with it?
Because she doesn't cling to ideas.
The Tao is dark and unfathomable.
How can it make her radiant?
Because she lets it.
Since before time and space were,
the Tao is.
It is beyond is and is not.
How do I know this is true?
I look inside myself and see.
---
Brent reminded me recently of something his friend Lee told him - "Brent, you're always in eagle. Sometimes you need to be in mouse." That was sort of how a lot of last week felt for me: I couldn't stop seeing the big picture for long enough to actually get anything done - or if I did do something, it didn't feel like I had many any dent in all the things I should be doing. It was at the point where I told Brent a few days ago, "As long as someone is asking me to do something with them or pointing me towards something to do I'm okay. When I have to decide what to do, though, I start thinking about everything there is to do and I freak out a little." I felt bad that I was here leading a relatively cushy life and not really doing anything for anyone else, rather than, I don't know, distributing food and medicine to refugees or helping African farmers develop and implement practices that would increase their yields while being sustainable. I told Brent that I felt like the best thing for me to do if I really wanted to make a living by providing inarguably beneficial services, the most valuable thing I could do would be to become a doctor, but I don't think I have the heart or the head or even the hands for it. He said, "Then that's not the best thing for you to do."
And then there's homework, and all the textbook chapters I feel like I should be reading (it's funny, I can't recall ever spending a whole lot of regular time reading textbooks before, but now I suddenly feel like it's something I have to do), and why haven't I put together a proper curriculum vitae yet so I have something to give to professors who I want to ask for recommendations, or do I not actually want that legislative internship I was applying for next semester, and shouldn't I figure out what to say for my toast at the wedding? And things are never clean, and I'm not spending enough time exercising, I looked so good this summer and now my abs are pretty much gone again, and Brent says it's nice that I look a little softer and curvier, but I should have more time to work on these things.
It's okay. I've been better over the past few days. Felt less like a complete waste of life; been able to focus more on my accomplishments and taking things one at a time and not worrying so much. This weekend I did my postlab and review a couple chapters in my organic chemistry book. I went birdwatching with a group from my animal behavior class. I read the chapter on climate change in my ecology textbook. I did an ab workout and went running with Wilford. I started working on my CV so I can get my recommendations in time for the application deadline for that legislative internship. I breathed.
This, I suppose, is the radiance of not clinging to ideas. It's not having a mindset - being able to switch from eagle to mouse to anything else, as needed. The Tao is flow, which means not letting yourself get stuck. Which means doing things, not overthinking them to the point where you can't do anything. When a task comes up you do it. If you can't do it, you don't. And you feel good, because you are balanced.
The world is dark and unfathomable. How can we be radiant in it?
We already are.
This weekend, for me, has been about remembering to be where I am and what I am. The tasks that I need to do will come to me and I will do them. The tasks that I cannot do I will have to remember not to carry with me - they will only hold me down. Sometimes it won't feel like enough and I'll wonder why I even bother, when nothing I can do will ever be enough. Hopefully then I'll remember the beauty of never being full, and will continue with the task in front of me.
Does anything really matter, when we're talking on scales of before time and space, and beyond is and is not? Maybe not - at least, not any of the things that people think matter. You could take that and turn it into a feeling of uselessness and insignificance. Or you could find the radiance.
I'm not going to say that I'm feeling better now because I've found the Tao. Really, I think, it was just that the funk I was in couldn't last forever; eventually emotional equilibrium will restore itself. But isn't that itself the Tao? The unending cycle of dark and bright, of balance being reached and thrown off and reached again, the joys and sorrows of always seeking and never finding? (Fun fact - dopamine doesn't trigger pleasure so much as it triggers pleasure-seeking. In some ways we are build to be more satisfied with a chase than with a catch. Stillness and motion).
What I've done is always in the past; the present is all learning and trying and reaching. The ungraspable will make you radiant if you let it.