Ineffable Originator

There are many stories about how the universe came to be. Each culture has its own account—which arose in prehistoric times—that describes how the world emerged. Most origin legends begin with an entity or a being who stood outside the world and brought it into existence, in one way or another... an originator who started it all.

Many spiritual traditions attempt to describe the originator, but some acknowledge that it is beyond our mortal minds to do so. The latter consider the originator to be ineffable—something so great and extreme, as to be unable to be defined.

Taoism captures the ineffability of the prime mover in a few simple verses of the Tao Te Ching—the modest and concise book of Taoist scripture. The first verse of the Tao Te Ching says “The named/ Is not the eternal name.” This is an expression of the fact that the true nature of the Tao is beyond our ability to define. Don't waste your time trying to describe it or even name it—instead put your energy into aligning yourself with it. OK, align myself with what? How do I know to do that, if I can't comprehend it?

There's a later verse that helps answer these questions. It describes some of the qualities of the Tao:

There was something formless and perfect

Before the universe was born.

It is serene. Empty.

Solitary. Unchanging.

Infinite. Eternally present.

It is the mother of the universe.

For lack of a better name,

I call it the Tao.

So here we have delineated some of the features of the Tao—even though its nature is beyond words. Since the Tao Te Ching is written in Chinese, translations into English can have some variation—depending on the inclinations of the translator.

In an attempt to develop a broader interpretation of the qualities of the Tao, I consulted five translations of the Tao Te Ching and sorted the qualities of the Tao into six categories, according to the different English words each translator used. The Tao is:

1. Peaceful: serene, still, quiet, calm
2. Unequaled: solitary, standing alone, independent, perfect
3. Eternal: unchanging, eternally present, ceaseless, never alters.
4. Formless: unbodied, empty, incorporeal
5. Infinite: all-pervading, profound, reaching everywhere
6. Omnipresent: ever-present, circulating, functions unhindered

So that's a list of the qualities of that “something formless and perfect/ Before the universe was born.” I recently listened to a philosopher of Chinese culture who said that he considered the Tao to be the equivalent of the Western concept of God. Look back over my list above. Are these not also the qualities that monotheism assigns to God?

Let It Go to Have It

The older I get, the more I seem to encounter paradoxes—those statements that at first glance seem to be absurd, but upon further reflection reveal a deeper truth. When I was younger and more rushed, I rarely paused long enough to explore a possible paradoxical statement for its truth. In addition, I bought into the tendency in the western world to think along dualistic lines: when two apparently opposing ideas are expressed in the same context, one must be true and the other false. It’s either black or white; no shades of gray are allowed, let alone consider both polarities.

Life is replete, however, with nuances, subtleties, and contradictions—if we take the time to appreciate them. And the epitome of an apparently incongruous situation is a paradox. I have come to enjoy paradoxes, because they invite me to open up my thinking and find hidden layers of meaning in things—layers I would have missed had I quickly seized on a shallower meaning, grabbed one alternative, and then rushed on to the next encounter.

One such paradoxical statement came to me recently, as I was soaking in the outdoor tub: “Let it go to have it; give it up to get it.” At first glance that does sound absurd. If I give something up I no longer have it, do I? If I let it go, it’s gone, isn’t it? If we are referring to material things, such a statement is indeed illogical.

But how about when we’re talking of nonmaterial things like truth and love? These are things that we can never own or hold onto. If I try to capture or own truth or love, they will inevitably slip away from me, or I’ll perpetually find them just beyond my grasp.

Things of real value are also (another paradox here) free. What’s more, they are everywhere. We are surrounded by them. All we need do is recognize their availability and invite them in for a visit. If I let truth go—in the sense of abandoning any attempt to corral it for myself—I’ll discover that it’ll become a part of me. If I give up love—in the sense of showing care and compassion for others—I’ll become bathed in it.

The Tao Te Ching (the spiritual teachings of Taoism) is a paradoxical book. Written some 2500 years ago in China, it’s a small, straightforward text—yet a little puzzling and even somewhat inaccessible to 21st century Americans. Stephen Mitchell has a version, however, that is beautifully understandable. A few excerpts from Mitchell’s Tao Te Ching that express the paradox of “let it go to have it” are:
* “Therefore the Master… lets things arise and she lets them come;/ Things disappear and she lets them go./ She has but doesn’t possess,/ Acts but doesn’t expect.”
* “…the ancient masters said,/ ‘If you want to be given everything, give up everything’…”
* “The mark of a moderate man/ Is freedom from his own ideas…/Nothing is impossible for him,/ Because he has let go…”
* “Rushing into action, you fail./ Trying to grasp things, you lose them./ Therefore the Master… has nothing,/ Thus has nothing to lose.”