Showing posts with label Psalms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Psalms. Show all posts

Sunday, September 6, 2015

Thoughts on the Tao Te Ching 14

Poem 14

Look, and it can't be seen.
Listen and it can't be heard.
Reach and it can't be grasped.

Above, it isn't bright.
Below, it isn't dark.
Seamless, unnameable,
it returns to the realm of nothing.
Form that includes all forms,
image without an image,
subtle, beyond all conception.

Approach it and there is no beginning;
follow it and there is no end.
You can't know it, but you can be it,
at ease in your own life.
Just realise where you come from:
this is the essence of wisdom.




Reflections

I have remarked already that the poems of the Tao Te Ching bear some little similarity to the Book of Psalms in the Old Testament.  However, they also contrast with the psalms in one major respect. Take the following quotation about wisdom from Psalm 111:10 for example: The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom: a good understanding have all they that do his commandments: his praise endureth forever.”  Notice here that the Psalms are essentially theocentric (or God-centered) in their approach to answering the mystery with which life confronts us, while the Tao Te Ching  is essentially anthropocentric. The last two lines of the final stanza above tells us that the essence of wisdom lies not in the fear of an external power like that of God, but rather in the internal realisation of one's depth of being. This is not surprising given the more psychological or anthropocentric approach of Eastern spirituality.

The above poem is basically describing the elusiveness of the Tao.  It also indicates its ineffability and mystery by using once again that union of opposites, that tension of polarities, that balance of binaries or axis of antinomies to which I have alluded many times in these reflections.  This tension of opposites essentially, then, captures skillfully the elusiveness and ineffability of the Tao. 

Raphael's painting, "The School of Athens." Plato is the bearded central figure


"Image without an image" is paradoxical in the extreme, though it bears some little parallelism with the thought of Plato.  Plato believed that any object was but a physical representation of the abstract idea which was in a sense "more real" that the actual material thing.  For example, a physical table is a representation of the abstract idea of table (the original form). In consequence art was very much a cheap representation as it was merely a copy of a copy of the original image or idea. [Plato's theory of Forms or theory of Ideas asserts that non-material abstract (but substantial) forms (or ideas), and not the material world of change known to us through sensation, possess the highest and most fundamental kind of reality. When used in this sense, the word form or idea is often capitalized.] Image of an image we can all understand as we can a copy of a copy.  However, image without an image is working as it were in the other direction towards the original idea or form which needless to say is totally ineffable and totally indescribable.  Once again, it is worth repeating here that when we are dealing with religious, psychological and spiritual depths we put language under great strain to express them.


Monday, August 24, 2015

Thoughts on the Tao Te Ching 8

Poem 8

The supreme good is like water,
which nourishes all things without trying to.
It is content with the low places that people disdain.
Thus it is like the Tao.

In dwelling, live close to the ground.
In thinking, keep to the simple.
In conflict, be fair and generous.
In governing, don't try to control.
In work, do what you enjoy.
In family life, be completely present.

When you are content to be simply yourself
and don't compare and compete,
everybody will respect you.

Commentary





Having lived for approximately the last half of the twentieth century as well as the first fifteen years of the present, one might forgive oneself for entertaining a certain psychological sophistication.  In that respect, one could forgive oneself for having thought that the above poem was written in contemporary times.  There is a freshness and modernity about the above stanzas that would lead one to believe that they were penned by a modern psychologist or psychotherapist.  Indeed, one of the major distinguishing features of Eastern spirituality  vis-à-vis its Western counterpart is its psychological profundity.  Western spirituality on the other hand is more one that falls down in awe praising the wonder of the divine revelation rather than one that explores the effects that encounter has on the personality of the believer.  Be that as it may, at the risk of generalization, I contend that Eastern spirituality to a large extent partakes of what we may term a perennial philosophical take on life that is concerned with the mental welfare of the humble follower of the path.

The first stanza above is essentially about the taming of the ego or of humankind's pride or hubris.  Our ego, unless it is tamed, will not bring us happiness or contentment.  However, when it is tamed and brought into check, it can of course bring us much happiness.  Many leaders are happy people because quite simply their egos are controlled.  Balance is a word much spoken about in spirituality, as indeed it is in psychology and psychotherapy.  The poet speaks graphically about how naturally water helps all things to grow without despising the low places.  Indeed, it naturally seeks to avoid the high places.  Here, then, it is an image of humility and yet immense power in nurturing growth and life.

The words of wisdom offered by this poem are indeed proverbial and do contain that perennial wisdom adverted to above.  Indeed, one could be reading from the Biblical book of Psalms.  We are advised to live close to the ground, or to be truly in tune with nature. Indeed, here it is interesting to mention than the etymology of the very word "human" is the Latin root "humus" which means "clay."





In thinking and indeed teaching, one should keep the thought processes clear and simple. As a teacher involved in education for some 35 years now I have been long convinced of that piece of rich advice.  When I was a university I was taught by some wise lecturers and fellow students to differentiate the true teacher/lecturer from the poor ego-ridden one by noting whether they were setting out to impress, confuse and mystify rather than inform, clarify and encourage the learner.  The next line recommends being fair and generous in conflict, an aspiration that is an ideal indeed, but somewhat depressing in reality as it would seem that most victors are neither fair nor generous as the sad history of human warring has taught us.

I especially delight in the proverbial wisdom of the line: "In governing, don't try to control." All good leaders, in my experience, have never tried to control, while the bad ones have indeed done so, thereby hurting and alienating many as well as slowing all progress down. Those who try to control are often micro-managers: those who cannot allow their staff to get on with the job without sticking their nose in.  A good leader allows his or her staff the freedom to achieve and no good boss is ever jealous of their achievements, but rather rejoices in them for he/she has allowed that person the freedom to achieve X or Y.  In that special way, the are responsible for the success of their staff.  I remember, a wonderful teacher and great Irish writer Bryan McMahon once remarking that a good teacher delights in the success of all pupils even those who will go on to outshine him intellectually and so on.



Amazingly, the piece of wisdom that recommends that we should work at what we enjoy sounds very contemporary indeed.  There is much sound wisdom in it, but few of us ever get the luxury of doing so.  The most that we can do is to get to know ourselves as deeply as possibly and avoid taking jobs that we might detest or promotions that might ruin our peace of mind.  Knowing our own strengths and playing to them is obviously the best course of action for us in life.

Once again being present to others in our family is a wonderful piece of advice that will lead to harmonious relationships.  Through meditation and other spiritual practices we learn gradually to be present (i) to ourselves, (ii) to others and (iii) to the source of life some of us dare call God.  Being present in the moment is the central recommendation of every spiritual tradition.

Finally, as I've already remarked, we could be reading a modern article in a popular psychology magazine or book when we peruse the final few lines of the above poem. Learning to be content with oneself; being able to be and to sleep with an untroubled conscience; not desiring to compete with anyone else and certainly never needing to compare oneself with others are achievements consequent on much spiritual practice and no little dedication to matters of the soul.

I will finish these few reflections with the usual recommendation to the reader of these lines to re-read the above Taoist poem and to let whatever line, phrase or word spring into your mind and then to close your eyes and use that phrase as a mantra for five or ten minutes. May you always be at peace.

Namaste,  friends.

Sunday, August 23, 2015

Thoughts on the Tau Te Ching 6

Poem 6

The Tau is called the Great Mother
empty yet inexhaustible,
it gives birth to infinite worlds.

It is always present within you:
You can use it any way you want.


Commentary

The mother always has a central place in the life of all offspring, animal or human for obvious reasons.  Consequently, most cultures and religions have feminine gods as well as male ones. The act of physical birth is central to  life, and birthing also has its close psychological counterparts in the personality itself.  There is also a growing body of research that shows that babies in the womb feel, taste, learn, and have some level of consciousness.



The Blessed Virgin: an example of the Mother archetype

Chronic anxiety in the mother before birth can set the stage for a whole array of problems later: complications of birth, miscarriage, death, anxiety and/or depression in the child after birth and so on.  The opposite is also true, thankfully, and when a mother is feeling healthy and happy she produces the hormone oxytocin that is often called the molecule of belonging. The presence of this component creates feelings of bonding and strengthens the immunity in the baby. The message imprinted on the baby's brain through stimulated neurotransmitters communicates a sense of safety and peace, care and security. (See HERE)



Another example of the Mother Archetype
The famous psychiatrist Carl Gustav Jung invented the concept and term archetype.  In brief, an archetype may be defined as a representative model or universal example of something.  He saw them as essentially the basic elements or contents of what he termed the collective unconscious.  In essence, this means that they are symbols of abstract spiritual needs that are often projected onto other people to help individuals understand the world in which they live and grow and die.  The mother archetype that we often encounter in our dreams can be experienced as the archetypal nurturer or carer on the one hand or as a mother who abandons her child on the other - in which case the dreamer encounters an archetype with exaggerated flaws and complexes. This archetypal mother plays a dramatic part, consequently, in much storytelling, mythology and lore, and as a result also exercises an important role in psychology and psychotherapy.

Another important image associated with motherhood is that of womb which also exercises a central role in human psychological development.  It is interesting to note that the Latin word "matrix" originally meant "womb" and that it comes from the same Indo-European root that gives is the following words: "mother," and "mater" and other equivalents.  

Further, it is also interesting to note that a womb-tomb theme has been explored for instance in a recent archaeological book on the Newgrange Passage Tomb here in Ireland: Newgrange: Monument to Immortality (The Liffey Press by journalist, photographer and amateur astronomer Anthony Murphy.) In Irish archaeology we also find ancient carvings in stone called Síle na Gig (or Sheela na Gig or Sheila na Gig).  These ancient carvings are of women with exposed genitalia and are, interestingly and unusually, found in churches, usually near the doorway, and also in castles.  However, they are not erotic carvings as such as the women portrayed are old and are certainly not glamorous and some hold their genitals apart while others seem to be screaming.  Also, these Síle na Gigs are not unique to Ireland and they are also found throughout Britain, France and in some parts of Germany. One theory put forward for these carvings is that the Sheelas represent goddesses of birth and fertility and are pre-Christian artifacts in spite of their being found in churches which were in fact pre-Christian shrines or temples before they were Christianized.


Sile na Gig from Kilpeck Church (Hereford)  England


One way or another the archetype of the mother and the centrality of the image of the womb to civilization shoots through all cultures so it is not surprising to see them as being central to Taoism.  


I will finish these reflections here with a line that resonates with the above Taoist poem from the psalms of the Bible (also poems): "A prince from the day of your birth on the holy mountains; from the womb before the dawn I begot you." (Psalm 110).