Part II.
Historians are uncertain of the historical facts regarding Laozi, founder of Daoism. The name itself casts doubt on Laozi's identity. Ad verbum, it simply means: old sage. Colloquially, the term Laozi in modern Chinese has come to mean an arrogant version of "yours truly". The earliest documented information on Laozi appears in the classic Record of History (Shi Ji), written by historian Sima Qian in 108 B.C. during the Han dynasty (B.C. 206-220 A.D.). It describes Laozi as a person named Li Er (born around 604 B.C.) who worked as a librarian in the court of the State of Eastern Zhou (Dong Zhou) during the Spring and Autumn period (Chunqiu 770-481 B.C.). Laozi was reported to have met only once the young Confucius (551-479 B.C.) who was fifty-three years his junior. If intellectual exchanges took place at that celebrated meeting, Confucius had to be at least in his late twenties thus placing Laozi in his eighties when the two sages purportedly met. Confucius did not become widely known until 500 B.C. at the age of fifty-one, which would put Laozi's age at 104 if they met as two intellectual celebrities. No wonder the pundit was called "old sage".
Laozi is generally accepted as author of the Book of Virtuous Path (Daode Jing), although evidence would later be uncovered to suggest that it had actually been written by others long after his time, albeit based on ideas ascribed to him. The Book of Virtuous Path is written in a style that is both cryptic and enigmatic. The true meanings of its messages are difficult to elucidate definitively. Zhuangzhou, a Zhou dynasty skeptic and mystic who lived in fourth century B.C., in his classic, Zhuangzi, expounded on many of Laozi's doctrines with original insight, ingenious construct, incisive witticism and delightful charm. Drawing on Daoist concepts, Zhuangzhou opposed and ridiculed the moral utilitarianism of Confucius (551-479 B.C.).
Dao, a Chinese word meaning: "way" or "path", delineates an enlightened perception of the mysterious ways of life. The path of life is revealed professedly only through spontaneous insights and creative breakthroughs. The alternating, self-renewing and circular phenomenon of nature such as day following night following day is an illuminating Daoist paradigm. The life-regenerating cycle of the seasons is another example. Daoists believe all in life to be inseparably interrelated. Daoists consider conventional views illusionary. They point out that concepts are merely cognitive extremes of a consciousness continuum. Extremes exist only as contrasting points to give distinctive meanings to the unthinking, but in truth these extremes are inseparably interdependent. There can be no life without death, no goodness without evil and no happiness without tragedy. Light shines only in darkness. We only know something had been forgotten after we remember it. Behind this dualistic illusion, an unifying, primary principle of life endures. It is called Dao. To Daoists, the essence of life can be appreciated by observing the flow of water. The word: alive (huo) in the Chinese language is composed of the root sign of water (shui) and the modifying sign of tongue (sh‚), suggesting that flowing speech is the essence of living. Water, that fluid substance with no shape of its own, is capable of assuming the most intricate shapes of its containers. Any substance with a rigid form becomes prisoner to that form, unable to adopt to changed surroundings. Humans, whose lives are subject to infinite constraints, should attempt to adopt the flexibility of water to accommodate the intricate dimensions of the containers of life. Water, always taking the path of least resistance and natural flow, seeking rest at the lowest point, preserving a level surface over irregular bottoms, overcoming stubborn obstacles, smoothing rough surfaces and rounding sharp edges of hard materials, provides a Daoist model for an enlightened man's approach to life's imperfections. In moderate amounts, water is a life-giving substance. In excessive amounts, it can be cataclysmic and it can drown life. Like water, life reacts violently and becomes destructive when forced. It can be peaceful and good when guided gently.
According to Daoist precept, roushu (flexible method) is an approach to be preferred over violent confrontation, which tends to be self-defeating and counterproductive. Meditation and calm contemplation are the means to spiritual liberation. They are the true instruments to man's salvation from obsessive fixations and from illusionary and distracting agitations of the physical senses. To attain without effort is nature's way. To attain with forced effort is an unenlightened man's folly which will always be self-defeating. Judo, Japanese art of physical combat which seeks to turn the opponent's own strength against himself, is derived from a Tang Daoist fighting style called roushu. Every action reduces the range of one's options. Not taking premature or unnecessary actions keeps all of one's options open, so that the most appropriate action remains available. Action always elicits reactions. Each action taken provokes reactions from all quarters which, taken together, are always more powerful than the precipitous action itself. It is the ultimate definition of the inescapable law of unintended consequences. To follow the dao (path) of life is to go with the natural flow of life and to avoid going against it. The ethical theories of Daoism (Dao Jia) lean toward passive resistance, believing that evil, by definition, will ultimately destroy even itself without undue interference. But it would be a mistake to regard Daoism as fatalistic and pessimistic, instead of the ultimate sophistication in optimism that it is. Controlled quantities of the bad can be good. Excessive amount of the good can be bad. Poison kills. But when handled properly, it can cure diseases. Without poison there can be no medicine. To employ poison to attack poison is a Daoist principle which would be validated in modern medical the practice of vaccination, the use of antibiotics and chemotherapy treatments.
Only by not applying effort can one achieve that state in which nothing is not attainable effortlessly (Wu-wei ze wu-sou-bu-wei). Every Daoist knows this famous Daoist assertion, although none can fully explain it. Translated, it reads literally: Only by avoiding effort can one achieve that state in which nothing is not attainable effortlessly. This famous Daoist assertion, the inherent paradox of which defies logic, is still effortlessly driving students of Chinese philosophy insane.
A person's role in modern economic life, when observed with detached insight, illustrates the truth of the famous Daoist dilemma of aiming to be effortless. Before one chooses a profession, one has the option of a wide range of endeavors with which to satisfy one's interest and to enable one to be useful in life. One can become an artist, a politician, a teacher, a scientist, a lawyer, a doctor, etc. As soon as one decides to be a lawyer, for example, then one can no longer afford to spend much time on other fields of endeavor, thus greatly narrowing one's options. If, in order to be the best in one's field, one devotes all of one's time and effort to the study of law and nothing else, one ends up being ignorant of other aspects of life. One can therefore end up aimlessly as a useless expert. Thus the exclusive study of law may neutralize one's original purpose which is to lead a useful life by promoting justice. For a specialization to be truly useful, it needs to be defined so inclusively that excessive specialization itself becomes a pitfall to avoid. The corollary is: the desire for one's objective will block one's attainment of it. This is so because the distracting impact of one's desire will obscure one's focus on the objective itself. It is better not to act unless and until one is certain such action will not foreclose other options, rendering one paralyzed. But fear of action is paralysis itself. Unenlightened persons seek fame and fortune to achieve happiness, only to find that through obsessive seeking of fame and fortune, they destroy the very chance for happiness. They mistakenly regard fame and fortune, superficial trappings of happiness, as happiness itself. They slave after fame and fortune without realizing that it is that very slavery that will rob them of their happiness. Incidentally, happiness in the Chinese language is expressed by the term: kuai-huo, which literally means fast-living.
It is a Daoist axiom that intellectual scholarship and analytical logic can only serve to dissect and categorize information. Knowledge, different from information, is achieved only through knowing. Ultimately, only intuitive understanding can provide wisdom. Truth, while elusive, exists. But it is obscured by search, because purposeful search will inevitably mislead the searcher from truth. By focusing on the purpose, the searcher can only find what he is looking for. How does one know what questions to ask about truth if one does not know what the elusive answers should be? Conversely, if one knows already what the answers should be, why does one need to ask questions? Lewis Carrol's Alice in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1865) would unknowingly be a Daoist. Daoists believe that the dao (path) of life, since it eludes taxonomic definition and intellectual pursuit, can only be intuitively experienced through mystic meditation, by special breathing exercises and sexual techniques to enhance the mind and harmonize the body. They believe that these mind-purifying undertakings, coupled with an ascetic lifestyle and lean diet, would also serve to prolong life. Daoist philosophy is referred to as Xuanxue, literally meaning: mystic learning.
Daoists consider the duty of a ruler as that of protecting with minimal
interference his subjects from harm, thus avoiding the overriding injury
that excessive intervention would bring.
A truly wise ruler should act in the way nature's unseen hand gently
protects the good, the definition of which is complex and
philosophical. The word: governance (zhi) in Chinese is composed of the
root sign of water (shui) and the modifying sign of platform (tai),
suggesting that to govern is similar to preserving stability of a
floating platform on water. Excessive and unbalanced interference, even
when motivated by good intention, does not always produce good results.
Periodic, mild famines may be considered good in the long run because
the people will learn lessons from them on the need for grain storage.
Excessive prosperity may be considered bad because it leads to wasteful
consumption with environmental and spiritual pollution that eventually
will destroy the good life. Modern economists would come to appreciate
the desirability of sustainable moderate economic growth over the
alternative of fluctuating booms and busts.
Daoists consider Confucian reliance on the Code of Rites (Liji) to guide
socio-political behavior as oppressive and self-defeating. The Code of
Rites is the ritual compendium as defined by Confucius (551-479 B.C.) to
prescribe proper individual behavior in a hierarchical society. Daoists
regard blind Confucian penchant for moralistic coercion as misguided.
Such coercion neglects the true power of roushu (flexible method).
Daoists think that in the ultimate, great success always leads to great
failure because each successful stage makes the next stage more
difficult, until, by definition, failure inevitably results.
To Daoists, the assertion that nothing succeeds like success is false.
In truth, nothing fails like success. Success is always the root of
future failure.
Since the only way to avoid the trap of life's vicious circle is to
limit one's ambition, why not eliminate ambition entirely? Would that
not insure success in life. But a little ambition is a good thing.
Total elimination, even of undesirables, is an extreme solution, and it
is therefore self-defeating. Besides, the paradox is that eliminating
all goals is itself a goal, thus guaranteeing built-in failure. An
example of this is the futility of a compulsive organizer who make a
list of ways to relax.
>From the traveller's point of view, no matter how many times he changes
direction, he always ends up where his is heading.
Life is a prison from which one can escape only if one does not try to
escape. It is the desire to escape that makes a place a prison, and the
desire to return that makes it a home. Home is not where one is, it is
where one wants to return.