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The Tao that can be Named is not the Tao

By kunzang shenpen (aka marik)


My wife tells me of a T-Shirt that she liked when she was younger
but confused her for many years.  The shirt simply stated "Change
Your Mind." The ambiguities of language sometimes hide the
greatest of truths.  The solution to most of life's problems really
are contained in that simple phrase on a T-Shirt, but the mind,
drowning amid the shipwreck of itself, often misses the log floating
past that will carry it to safety.

Astonishingly, Laotse's most important statements are the first
lines of the Tao Te Ching.  Most authors develop a thesis slowly
and reasonably, allowing the reader to nod approvingly, flattered
in the complicity of sophistication, at the cogency and elegance
of the argument.  Not so with Laotse, who in the Sixth Century
before Christ placed a satchel charge in the slow carriage of
intellectual thought that even now has not quite detonated,
although the timer is close to zero.

We might argue that the first lines of the Tao Te Ching are
impossible to translate.  I have a variety of translations before
me.  Lin Yutang's:

"The Tao that can be told of Is not the Absolute Tao;
 The Names that can be given Are not Absolute Names."

is as accurate or inaccurate as Victor Mair's:

"The ways that can be walked are not the eternal Way
 The names that can be named are not the eternal name."

Perhaps Thomas Cleary's translation of The Secret of the Golden
Flower, itself, in a way, an exegesis of the Tao Te Ching, is
clearer:

"Naturalness is called the Way.  The Way has no name or form; it
 is just the essence, just the primal spirit."

T.S. Eliot, in the Four Quartets, elucidates the problem:

                               "Words strain
 Crack and sometimes break, under the burden,
 Under the tension, slip, slide, perish,
 Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place,
 Will not stay still."

This is certainly close to Laotse's later statement in the Tao Te
Ching

"As soon as one begins to divide things up, there are names;
 Once there are names, one should know when to stop."

We still don't know when to stop.  General Semantics developed
as an academic discipline in the West only in the last half of the
20th Century, two and a half millennia after Laotse indicated the need.
Spinoza wrote "Nature abhors a vacuum", a phrase illuminating Western
Man's intense dislike of Emptiness.  The West rejects the Tao
because the Tao cannot be named.  What cannot be named must be
empty! That abhorrent vacuum!  The very neural structure of our
brains rejects lack of stimulus.  If you haven't already, try the
simple ganzfeld experiment of cutting a ping pong ball in half and
placing half over each eye. Keep your eyes open, facing towards light,
looking directly at the white diffuse field. Time how long it is before
you begin to hallucinate.  If the brain is not provided with stimulus,
why it just makes it up, as many a meditator is all too keenly aware!

Of course we know now that even in an apparent vacuum particles
come in and out of existence in the flash of a nanosecond.
Contrary to King Lear something does come of nothing (and, a
little more dismally, according to entropy, nothing does come of
something). Laotse writes, in the fifth and sixth lines of the Tao
Te Ching

"The Nameless is the origin of Heaven and Earth
 The Named is the Mother of All Things."

This is presumably why Adam, even before God creates Eve, is
required to name "every beast of the field, and every fowl of the
air....and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was
the name thereof." (Gen. 2.21)  Perhaps God, being of the
Nameless, could not name Creation. This appeals to me somewhat
more than the representation of God, Father and Son, I once saw
in a slide show presented by Mormon missionaries. There the
Divine Duo, glowing somewhat radioactively, the very picture of
White Muscular Christianity, walked down a path in Paradise, deep
in conversation.  I'm afraid that my interest, academic at best,
in Mormonism, dissipated completely when the missionaries affirmed
that Pater and Filius indeed looked exactly like that.  Pathological
nominalism created the absurdity of killing fellow Christians
over whether the wafer and wine of the Mass was the actual body
and blood of Christ or just a metaphor.  If this appears
irrationally medieval consider that President Bush justified the
first U.S. federal execution in forty years by asserting that it
was "justice not vengeance." Naming allows us the illusion that
we can create and destroy without consequence. We delude ourselves
divine.

It is not that Laotse objects to naming.  On the contrary, the
second chapter of the Tao Te Ching, on the rise of relative
opposites, describes clearly the way in which the initial
discriminatory act gives rise to dualism (yin and yang) and the
interdependent multiplicity of the phenomenal universe: "The
Named is the Mother of All Things."  Laotse just insists that we
must know when to stop.

Emerson hailed Laotse as the "circular philosopher".  If we draw
a circle do we perceive the circle by the line that inscribes it
or by the emptiness it encloses?  The Prajna Paramita, the great
sutra of Madhamyika Buddhism, states that "Form is precisely
Emptiness, Emptiness is precisely Form." We will not discover the
wordless through words. The named and the nameless inextricably
interweave in an interdependent dance. Eventually we must learn to
stop, to relax, to cease the striving, to reach the end of our exploring,
where, as Eliot says, we will

              "arrive where we started
 And know the place for the first time."
 
How do we find that place?  It matters very little whether we are
Taoists, Buddhists, Hindus, or People of the Book.  All religions,
sooner or later, direct us to the nameless, to the space between
thoughts, to the silence which is only silent because we have
stopped telling ourselves what the silence is. This is the point Eliot
calls "the stillness/Between two waves of the sea."  This place is
available to us all, requiring only, as the poet says

"A condition of complete simplicity
 (Costing not less than everything)"

 or as Laotse wrote in the Tao Te Ching
 
 "Therefore the Sage puts himself last,
  And finds himself in the foremost place;
  Regards his body as accidental,
  And his body is thereby preserved.
  Is it not because he does not live for Self
  That his Self is realized?"

Is it, or is it not?  Understanding this paradox will lead you to the Tao.


kunzang shenpen (aka marik)

June 2001

marik@aol.com

marik is Mark Defrates, a jeweler specializing in the symbolism
of the world's magickal traditions.  You can view his online
catalog at

http://members.aol.com/marik/jewelry.html