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CHAPTER TWO INTERIOR PEACE

The writings of the ancient Taoist masters tell us that healing must begin from within the self. When the mind, heart, and body work as one harmonious unit in tune with nature, a new inner peace emerges. The mind is no longer ruffled by the criticism or praise of changeable human associates. This new self is not worried by blame, avoids praise, makes no negative or harmful judgments, in fact avoids making any judgment at all. The rules for this kind of life filled with Taoist harmony are found in the books of Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu.

The book of Lao-tzu, the Tao-te Ching is a brief eighty-one paragraphs. When a novice approaches a Taoist master to become his or her disciple, the master insists on three things: read and practice the book of Lao-tzu; take the vows or promises of the Taoist way of life; and reject any fame, glory, or wealth accruing from the way of self-cultivation that the master teaches.

These three rules may at first seem excessive. Without understanding the Tao-te Ching, one cannot follow the way of emptying meditation. Without practicing the Taoist way of life, self-healing is impossible. The simplicity and selflessness of the Taoist way of life preclude accepting any recompense for healing. The master warns the disciple that wisdom cannot be purchased, as can a work of art or an education. To demand a price for healing is to turn a profit on illness. To do this would make the healer ill and his or her wisdom no longer priceless. No matter how simple the rules may seem, the Taoist novice must prove that he or she observes them before learning from the master.

The very first phrases of the Tao-te Ching state that the transcendent, eternal Tao cannot be spoken about. "The Tao that is spoken is not the eternal Tao." if one calls it wu, nonbeing or transcendent being, then the role of Tao as gestating heaven and earth is named. If one calls it yu, holding on or pregnant, then Tao is seen as a mother giving birth to nature. Therefore, if one would know the ultimate, transcendent Tao from within, one must let go, wu, be entirely empty. If one looks outward contemplating the yu, infinite variety of things in the universe, one can see "mother" Tao nourishing the greatest and smallest things of nature.

Any judgment, that is, the joining of a noun or concept with a verb, is relative. To say "He is short" is a judgment. A person is only relatively tall or short, a work relatively hard or easy, the Tao wu (transcendent) or yu (immanent). "A speaker needs a listener," "Before has an after," "What goes up must come down," are examples of relative judgments. One should try instead not to make any judgment. Meditation is best that does not put a verb to a noun. When judgment is suspended, then one suddenly becomes finely tuned to the workings of Tao in nature. Beginning with this state of suspended judgment, one begins to learn Taoist healing meditation. This meditation is not done through the mind's knowing or by the heart's willing but in the belly's power of intuition and direct awareness of a transcendent presence.

I use the word transcendent here not in the connotation that many Western sinologists assign the word, but simply as a convenient way to avoid using the cliche "nonact" or "nonbeing," since, in the true Taoist use of the word, the Tao of wuwei "gives birth" to taiji, yang, yin, and the myriad-creatures. This manner of act is called transcendent, rather than nonact, in these pages.

The Taoist way of contemplating is described in the texts of the Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu summarized below. Its goal is to achieve a peaceful and tranquil mode of existence both when contemplating Tao's presence and when living an ordinary daily life.

LAO-TZU ON HEALING

MEDITATING ON NATURE

Nature does not "hold on" like humans do to possessions or judgments. Nature makes no judgments. It gives birth and lets go, does its work and moves on. When we sit in quiet contemplation and suspend judgment, we see Tao working in nature, the Taoist master teaches. We begin to understand how to contemplate, to look without making judgment. When we cease to make judgments, time passes quickly. An hour seems like less than a minute. The person who stops making negative judgments does not grow old mentally, and sees much more deeply into the world of the inner self and into the outer world of nature.

MEDITATING ON EMPTINESS

The person who becomes adept at not passing judgment soon becomes very peaceful. There is no need to flatter the powerful, pander to the wealthy, or lust after beauty in things or people. Inner peace of heart is more precious than all these external things. People with power, wealth, and beauty come to the Taoist to be healed of their inner cares and turmoil. The Taoist master teaches from chapter 3 of the Tao-te Ching that it is more important to:

Empty the heart-mind, fill the belly,

Weaken selfishness, strengthen the bones,

Let go, Tao will rule!

The Tao that breathes life and beauty into nature is like a bowl filled with good things that are never used up. These good things of nature sprout in spring, ripen in summer, are harvested in fall, and "die" in winter, a cycle repeated annually in nature. Morning's dawn, noonday heat, evening's sunset, night's rest are a smaller version of human birth, growing up, maturity, old age, and death. Life is a process of giving and emptying.

Nature's Tao blunts the sharp edges in our lives, unties the knots, gives from its bowl of plenty. Tao is as equally at home with the bright and fresh as with the soiled and dusty. By suspending our judgments of what is good and bad in others, or how they approve and disapprove of our lives, we become suddenly aware that Tao does not have favorite people. We must be like Tao, treat all things in heaven and earth as sacred objects.

MEDITATING ON TAO AS A NOURISHING MOTHER

The Tao of nature is like a mother who is always spinning forth primordial energy, yuanqi (ch'i) or life breath, nurturing all things in nature.¹ She eternally gives this life breath, qi, to all of nature and never plays favorites. Tao always nourishes, eternally spins forth life breath, because it does not use up its qi in judgmental thoughts and selfish desires. This is why it can heal and does not die.

The "three fives" are joined together in the Yellow Court or Gold Pavilion and contemplate Tao. Ch'ing dynasty woodblock print from Xingming Guizhi. Left column text: Jing, qi, shen depend on me to be joined as one. Right column text: body, heart, mind, who ever separated them?

MEDITATING ON QI

Healing life power for the Taoist is called qi, primordial life breath. Each of us has life breath within us, stored in the belly (the lower cinnabar field) and regenerated in the pineal gland (the upper cinnabar field) in the brain. During the day we use up our life energy each time we make a judgment, lust after something with desire, worry, are angry or sad. Life breath is restored each night by sleeping, and during the day by meditating and by qi exercise.² Qi exercise and meditation are important daily practices in the Taoist healing tradition.

MEDITATING ON WATER

Water is a very important concept in the Taoist healing and meditation system. With qi energy it symbolizes the action of Tao in nature. Water always seeks the lowest place, can fit into any space, and brings life to all living things. Though it is soft and yielding, nothing can withstand its power, not even the strongest metal or hardest stone. Since water always seeks the lowest place, it is closest to Tao. Since it is supple and yielding, water does not "contend," fits any container, and always attains its goal. Thus we are told to meditate on and be like water in our daily lives.

MEDITATING ON HEAVEN'S WAY

Know when enough is too much.

A blade too sharp will soon be dulled,

A room full of gold will soon be emptied.

Let it go! Do your work and move on.

It is the way of heaven and the four seasons to do their cyclical work and move on, never holding on to the good things of nature's abundance. Spring gives rain for plowing and planting. Summer gives heat for ripening. Autumn gives up its abundance in the harvest. Winter is for rest and contemplation. Nature always lets go of the good things it produces. Too much of any one thing brings floods, droughts, rotting crops, and freezing.

Moderation is a strict rule for the Taoist way of health. Never eat or drink too much. Always stop short before satiety in eating, and maintain sobriety in drink. The Taoist master will accept a modest drink of alcohol at a banquet or when toasting a guest, but ordinarily does not drink strong spirits. Monastic Taoists do not eat meat, fish, eggs, or milk products but do use garlic, spices, onions, and pepper. The rule of not eating meat is not absolute. When invited to a banquet or to a family feast, it is better not to offend the host. Taste small bits of meat or fish proffered at a banquet. Know how to stop before becoming full.

The rule of Buddhist ascetics forbids for religious reasons the use of spices and meat or other living creatures. For health's sake, the Taoists do not eat animal substances, but they do occasionally partake of meat when invited to a banquet, or when not to do so would offend the host. The rule of good manners, respecting the other, and positive judgment are always foremost in Taoist manners.

MEDITATING ON A CHILD

"Be like a child," the Taoist master teaches. A newborn child cries all day and is never hoarse. It has no hangups on sex. It eats, sleeps, does not carry weapons or contend. It does not get stung by bees or mauled by tigers. Its bones are soft, but its tiny fingers hold on to its mother with great strength. It is aware of breathing, does not say no, and thus can contemplate or "see" the transcendent Tao.

MEDITATING ON THE HOLLOW CENTER

"Be like a mother's womb," give birth and nurture, and then let go. Be like the empty hub of a wheel. If the center of the wheel is not hollow, an axle cannot be inserted, and the thirty spokes of the wheel are useless; they cannot turn. A bowl must be hollowed out to hold water. A room must be uncluttered and have windows and doors to be lived in. Only when we are empty, unselfish, are we good to ourselves and others.

MEDITATING ON WHAT'S INSIDE

Colors blind the eye, sound deafens the ear,

Flavors dull the taste, lust hurts the heart.

Value what is inside [Tao], not what is outside.

When the mind is filled with colors, sounds, tastes, and sensations, it cannot be aware of the presence of the Tao deep down inside. Tao eternally gestates life breath in all of nature. When the mind is emptied of concepts and images and the heart lets go of desire for things, the work of the Tao gestating in nature can be observed by the instinctive powers of the belly. In Taoist philosophy the mind is for knowing, the heart for desiring, and the belly for intuiting or sensing. By meditating from the center of the belly rather than from the mind or heart, one can intuit Tao's presence.³

MEDITATING ON LIFE'S DIFFICULTIES

One of the most important attitudes taught by Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu is that disapproval, scoldings, opposition, and contradiction must be expected and welcomed as long as we are alive and functioning. "Be happy when scolded, fearful when praised," Lao-tzu Jokingly warns us. By the very fact that we are alive and successful at our work, difficulties and contradictions come to us. If we were dead, then difficulties would not occur. So value opposition as you value your life. Run from praise and adulation with distrust. Do not depend for your self-image on what others think of you. Only when we are totally selfless, when we lose the need for praise or approval, can we be entrusted with ruling ourselves, our families, and the state. The Chuang-tzu (see later in this chapter) is filled with stories illustrating this principle.

MEDITATING ON AN UNCARVED BLOCK OF WOOD

The uncarved block of wood is a symbol of simplicity used by Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu. If the mind and heart are carved into pieces by arguments and worries, the body becomes ill. Chuang-tzu tells of a huge gnarled tree too twisted to be used for lumber. Because of this children come to play in its shadow and birds to nest and sing in its branches. Lao-tzu tells the Taoist healer to go wading in a cold winter creek, to shiver in its purifying coldness. Live in a crowded tenement without bothering the neighbors. Be thoughtful of the host's feelings when invited as a guest; be sensitive as thin ice about to melt in spring, unspoiled as the flowers in a wild meadow, clear like a pool of still water unruffled by wind, fresh like new green grass by the side of a stream. To do these things one must envision oneself as an uncarved block of wood.

MEDITATING ON A GOOD RULER OR EMPLOYER

Lao-tzu warns the Taoist healer that the best ruler, teacher, or healer is scarcely seen or known. The next best is loved, the third best is feared, and the worst is hated. If workers don't trust their employer or political leader, students their teacher, or patients their doctor, nothing lasting will be accomplished. The best ruler or healer says little, and when his or her work is done, the worker or patient says, "I did it." This is because healing must be in the patient, and work must b&done by the worker.

MEDITATING ON STANDING ON TIPTOE

One cannot stand on tiptoe for very long, or walk very far on one's knees. Violent winds last less than a day and a torrential rainfall but a few hours. Heaven and earth make sure that violence does not last. Only when We are at peace within ourselves can we experience permanent health and wholeness. Food that is left over, deeds that require great and continual effort, a person who acts for glory and fame, are like people walking on tiptoe in a violent rain. None can last very long. Our hearts must be freed from all desires that are like a violent rainfall or walking on tiptoe, that bring tension and stress. Our minds must be purified of all violent and negative images in order to remain calm and constant. Good deeds should not be seen, and well-spoken words leave no target for envy. Lao-tzu jests:

Good accounting needs no ledger,

Well-locked needs no key or bolt,

Well-tied needs neither rope nor knot

The Taoist healer helps all,

Turns none away, whether they are likeable or not

MEDITATING ON HEALING

The Taoist healer turns no one away, weak, poor, crippled, or outcast, and never deliberately harms anything.⁴ The person who is "one with the Tao" brings peace, great happiness, and nourishment for all, never rejecting anyone. When nourishing never try to preach or boss. "Be one with Tao" is the only message.

Because they are one with Tao,

Heaven is bright, earth at peace,

The soul is spiritual, the valley fertile,

Nature gives birth, leaders pure and simple.

MEDITATING ON HARMONY

Tao gives birth to One [qi breath];

One gives birth to Two [yang, heaven, male];

Two give birth to Three [yin, earth, female];

These three gave birth to all other things.

It is because they are in harmony

That they can do this.

(Tao-te Ching, chapter 42)

MEDITATING ON A HEALTHY BODY

The healer and the patient must realize that the body is the most important of our assets. The body's health is more important even than acquiring fame, wealth, and success in business. Profit and loss in business can bring on ailments. To fall madly in love is a great misfortune. The most successful person always leaves a little undone so that others too may succeed. The straightest line bends with the earth. One must move a little so as not to freeze, rest a little so as not to perspire. The person who does not bend becomes ill. Wait patiently for the best pottery, which comes last from the kiln. Listen quietly for the Tao from within the body's center, the belly, where the best music is silence. Those people are whole and endure who listen from within the body's center.

MEDITATING ON GOODNESS

The person who would be a healer of other people's ills must be good to the kind and the unkind, true to the faithful and the unfaithful. Tao gives qi breath to all, plays no favorites, smiles on everyone. A person who is filled with goodness walks through the battlefield unscathed by death. The tiger's claws don't scratch, a sword doesn't cut, a bull doesn't maul goodness.

Goodness is defined by Lao-tzu as an interior-quality that helps all others, whether good or bad, loyal or unloyal, useful or useless. Like the Tao, it sees all things as sacred and looks on all as something in which Tao dwells.

MEDITATING ON WUWEI, TAO'S ACTIONS

The Tao makes little things important. To those with little it gives much. It requites anger with goodness, tackles difficulties at once, while they are still easy. It rewards three precious things: kindness, care, and those who do not put themselves over others. In fact, it rushes to the aid of those who show kindness. It helps each thing find its own way, never telling others what to do. Tao hides behind coarse clothes. It is to be found deep inside the meditator.

MEDITATING ON THE OCEAN

The reason the ocean is the greatest of all creatures is because it is the lowest. Therefore, everything flows into it. (Tao-te Ching, chapter 66)

MEDITATING ON OTHERS

Never be weary of others, and they will not be weary of us. Our influence is greatest when others don't fear us and when we don't meddle in their lives at home. Meditate on all others with the greatest respect. When they come to see us, they will be better because of our respect.

MEDITATING ON NOT KNOWING

The most difficult things to heal are knowledge, concept, and image. Memories of what others have said about us, what injustices they have done, the images of what bad things could happen, fester in our minds and injure our stomachs. To heal, empty these concepts.

Disputes about philosophy and reason bring illness. The Taoist healer doesn't get ill, because he or she doesn't catch the "know-all" sickness. (Jao-te Ching, chapter 71)

MEDITATING ON BENDING

That which is dead is hard and brittle. That which is alive bends and is supple. To be healthy, be yielding like water, supple like grass, fresh and giving like Tao. Human ways are different from Tao. Humans in business and politics take from those who have little and give to those who have plenty. Tao gives of its plenty to all. Giving with joy makes one like Tao.

OF ALL THE eighty-one chapters of the Tao-te Ching, the religious Taoists consider chapter 42 (Meditation on Harmony, page 37) to be the most important. Qi, yang, and yin are able to give birth to the myriad creatures only because they work in harmony. In order that the people of the village who come to the temple for healing and renewal understand this message, the Taoists act it out in mime, drumming, music, and dance. The rite is as follows:

First, when it is dark, three new candles are set on an altar in the center of the temple for all of the villagers to see. If there are too many people to fit into the temple the table is brought out into the village square so that all can witness the drama.

Next, all of the lights in the temple are extinguished. The Taoist strikes a new fire from flint and sings "The Tao gave birth to the One." At this point the first candle is lit. The Taoist chants how the first candle represents primordial breath, yuanqi, the breath of the Tao gestating. Then the second candle is lit for yang, and the third candle for yin. The reason the myriad creatures could be gestated, the Taoist chants, is because these three shine together in harmony.

At this point all of the lights, candles, and lanterns in the temple are lit, so that the night becomes as day. Tao gestating the cosmos is acted out in song and dance. The forty-second chapter, on harmony, is thus brought to the attention of the whole village by a rite that anyone—children, elders, and foreigners—can understand, even if they have never read the obscure text of the Tao-te Ching. Ritual is thus a vehicle to explain the philosophy of Lao-tzu.

MEDITATING ON THE CHUANG-TZU

The Lao-tzu Tao-te Ching is the first book given to an aspiring Taoist to follow. The Chuang-tzu is used at the next stage of meditative practice, as a prelude to the third and highest level of apophatic emptying meditation, found in the Gold Pavilion classic. Following the practice of the Taoist contemplative tradition, I have paraphrased here the first seven chapters of the Chuang-tzu, as a prelude to learning the meditations of apophasis.

The Chuang-tzu is one of the most literary and highly respected works of Chinese literature. Confucian, Buddhist, and Taoist scholars all attempt to read and comment on its difficult passages. The mystic philosophy it proposes for the reader is explained in humorous stories and parables, based on the teachings of Lao-tzu. The first seven chapters are considered the most important for the master of Taoist healing. Some of its major ideas and the stories that explain them follow.⁵

WANDERING IN THE WORLD OF RELATIVE JUDGMENT

Once there was a great fish that lived in the depths of the northern sea. Its name was Kun. Its back was more than a thousand li [Chinese miles] long. Suddenly it changed into a bird whose name was Peng, whose back was also more than a thousand li in length. Startled, the bird took off from the sea and flew away. Its wings obscured the whole sky like a cloud. This bird, flying over the skies, eventually journeyed to the southern realm, the lake of heaven.

Ji Xie, a historian of the exotic, recorded the following: "When Peng took off for the south seas, its wings first flapped just above the water for three thousand li. Then it rose on an updraft to ninety thousand li. Its flight lasted for six months; then it rested."⁶

All judgments are relative to the judger. We must not use the great Peng bird as a standard to judge small birds. Water deep enough to float a cup is not sufficient to hold a boat. Peng's wings touched the water as it flapped, until it reached a height of ninety thousand li. The cicada and the dove do not need so much space to fly. Kun the great fish (a symbol of yin, autumn and winter) changed to Peng the great bird (yang, spring and summer). Each has its function in nature. One is not better than the other. We think they are different, but in fact one changes into the other.

All human judgments are relative to the judger. A mushroom sprouts in the morning and does not last a month, while a butterfly lives for a season. A magic mushroom in the southern Chu state lives a thousand years, and the dachun tree for two thousand. A tree or a person is not good or bad because of how long it lives or how people judge and talk about it.

Some people have enough talent to do well in a small business, while others rule a company. Others yet become governors of an entire kingdom. The whole world may admire one of these and despise the other two. Yet they are no better or worse within themselves for what others say about them or judge them to be. Liezi (Lieh-tzu) was a great Taoist sage who could ride off on the wind for fifteen days at a time. Yet Liezi depended on the wind to move, just as ordinary men depend on their legs to walk. What if there were someone who could mount into the heavens and descend into the earth, ride the six breaths of change (cold, heat, drought, rain, wind, fire), and wander in the transcendent ultimate (Tao)? Would this person make Liezi look bad? in fact, the person who has truly attained the Tao is selfless. The true spiritual person has no merit. The holiest sage has no fame. What others say of them is Irrelevant.

There was once a spiritual person who lived in the Guyi Mountains. Though very old, his skin was like snow and his body young and graceful. He did not eat any of the five starches but subsisted on wind and dew. He could ride away on clouds of qi breath, his chariot a flying dragon, into the world beyond the four seas, outside the realm of Confucian logic. The most important thing about this person, Chuang-tzu states, was his inner peace of spirit. His presence harmonized village life and nature. The villagers who lived nearby were saved from illness and each year harvested good crops.

This last quality alone was for Chuang-tzu the sign of the true Taoist sage. No matter what powers and virtues are extolled in the sagely person, it is because of interior peace alone that his or her presence brings blessing. Inner peace heals all natural and human calamities.

King Yao, after visiting the holy sage of Mount Guyi, decided to give up his kingdom.⁷ All the good things that come to the ruler of a kingdom were useless when compared with the inner peace of meditation. He compared the goods of the kingdom to a merchant who tried to sell fancy hats and shirts to the people of the southern kingdom of Yueh. The people of Yueh had no use for hats or shirts. They tattooed their bodies with bright colors instead. The values of Confucians, politicians, and modern consumer society are wasted on those who live lives of peaceful simplicity.

Huizi asked Chuang-tzu what to do about a huge gnarled tree that could not be sold to carpenters for wood. Plant it in the realm of wuwei (Taoist action), Chuang-tzu replied, and go there to meditate. A thing that is useless will not be harmed by the world of politicians, consumers, or war. The values of consumer society chop down all things (and all people too) who seem useful for making a profit. The preservation of nature, a peaceful society, and a healthy human body are more important than profit

ON ABSTAINING FROM JUDGMENT

A famous Taoist sage named Nan Guozi Ji (Nan kuo-tzu Chi) was meditating peacefully While sitting at a table. He looked up to heaven while practicing quiet breathing. In doing this, he seemed to have suspended his conscious judgmental mind.

His friend Yan Chengzi Yu stood in front of him and asked, "Are you still there? Can the body's form become dry wood and the mind like dead ashes? This person meditating by the table is not the same person who was here meditating a while ago."

"Yan," said Nan Guozi Ji, "It's a good thing that you ask me about it. Just now I had forgotten to make judgments. Would you like to know how its done? You've heard the sound of human music played on the flute, but not the sound of the earth's flute. If you hear the music of the earth's flute, you still haven't heard the music of heaven's flute!"

Yan asked Nan to continue. The sound of the earth's flute, Nan Guozi Ji explained, is heard in the wind playing on the hollows of trees, caves, mountains, and valleys. The sounds of earth are sometimes soft and quiet, sometimes loud and strident. The sounds of heaven's flute are heard only when all other sounds cease. One must listen to the intervals between the sounds of earth and humans to hear the music of heaven.

The sounds of human music are made on flutes and vocal chords. Human words produce arguing, judging, agreeing, and disagreeing. Human sounds are more strident than the violent storms of earth. When humans compete with each other, there are plotting and scheming, indecision and concealment, apprehension and distress, reserve and fear. The human mind is like a spear that flies forth deciding what is right and wrong. Some minds are firm, others change like weather. Some are mired in sensuous pleasure, others are plugged with hardened ideas like an old drain, unable to be cleared.