Here’s some more advice for you, through me, from Lao-tzu:
Live in your essential nature by rejecting artificial principles.
These principles in descending order are goodness, fairness, rites, and laws. Artificial goodness is an attempt to live by not being “bad,” so you allow others to decide where you fit in on a goodness scale. Affirm: I am of the Tao, a piece of God, and I need no human-made device to confirm it. Goodness and God-ness are one, and I trust who I am and will act from this perspective. I am staying with this truth and not what is false. Furthermore, see that the Tao isn’t concerned with fairness—give of yourself knowing that this is an artificial contrivance that cannot exist from a perspective of oneness. You are from, and will return to, that oneness, regardless of your opinions about it. So open up generously without desiring to be treated fairly.
Abandon outmoded familial and cultural customs.
Relinquish rites that you feel compelled to follow simply because they’ve been that way in your lifetime, and particularly in your family. Peacefully affirm: I am free to live, trusting in the eternal Tao. I do not have to be as my ancestors were. I relinquish ancient rituals that no longer work or that perpetuate separation or enmity. Remind yourself that goodness isn’t accessed by obeying laws; rather, it is what resonates with your essential nature. You don’t need any sort of code to decide what is proper, good, moral, ethical, or legal. Trust yourself to be an instrument of love by surrendering to your highest nature rather than being seduced by mortal laws.
This poem from the 16th-century mystic Saint John of the Cross, titled “A Rabbit Noticed My Condition,” beautifully describes this attitude:
I was sad one day and went for a walk;
I sat in a field.
A rabbit noticed my condition and came near.
It often does not take more than that to help at times —to just be close to creatures who
are so full of knowing,
so full of love
that they don’t—
chat,
they just gaze with
their marvelous understanding.
Do the Tao Now
Spend a day consciously choosing to notice one of God’s creatures, such as a dog, a butterfly, a moth, a spider, an ant, a fish, a cat, a deer, or whatever attracts you. You can learn a lot from them about trusting your inner nature. They are, as the poet says, “so full of knowing.”
39th Verse
These things from ancient times arise from one:
The sky is whole and clear.
The earth is whole and firm.
The spirit is whole and full.
The 10,000 things are whole, and the country is upright.
All these are in virtue of wholeness.
When man interferes with the Tao,
the sky becomes filthy,
the earth becomes depleted,
the equilibrium crumbles,
creatures become extinct.
Therefore, nobility is rooted in humility;
loftiness is based on lowliness.
This is why noble people refer to themselves
as alone, lacking, and unworthy.
The pieces of a chariot are useless
unless they work in accordance with the whole.
A man’s life brings nothing
unless he lives in accordance with the whole universe.
Playing one’s part
in accordance with the universe
is true humility.
Truly, too much honor means no honor.
It is not wise to shine like jade and
resound like stone chimes.
Living Wholeness
We traditionally think of wholeness as something that’s complete. “The whole nine yards,” for instance, implies the entire distance. “I ate the whole thing” signifies having consumed something completely. Lao-tzu, however, seems to view the concept differently: Wholeness, he writes, has roots in humility. When humility evokes our wholeness, we live the reality that we’re pieces of the whole.
With this attitude, you want to exist harmoniously with the entire universe—cooperating with, and being subjugated to, other aspects of the whole. You can’t even consider interfering with any piece of it because you’re one with it. The moment you begin to place yourself in a transcendent position in relation to others, or to your world of the 10,000 things, you’re interfering with the Tao. I encourage you to examine your concept of wholeness based upon this 39th verse of the Tao Te Ching. I can assure you that the world will appear to have changed when you see it through this lens.
Lao-tzu insists that the universe is whole; that is, it’s in a state of oneness. There are no parts needing separation from this state. Sky, earth, spirit, and the 10,000 things are all parts of the whole—and what’s more, that’s their virtue! Now while the sky and the trees may truly be in a unified state, your ego insists that you’re separate, distinct, and generally superior. But if you can modify your ego’s viewpoint, your life will change.
When you’re cooperative and looking for signs of oneness, you’ll begin to see and feel the interconnectedness of everything. For example, your body is a convenient analogy for a universe all unto itself. While it is one entity, it certainly has trillions of individual, although interconnected, cells. Just one cell with an arrogant relationship to the whole makes all the cells suffer and ultimately become extinct, much like the individual who interferes with the Tao by polluting the sky, depleting the earth, and disrupting the equilibrium of the whole. A cancer cell that refuses to cooperate with the cells adjacent to it will ultimately gobble them up, and if left unchecked, will destroy the whole. Why? Because that cancerous cell has no relationship to the whole. It will destroy itself as it
