In my previous studies of world religions, I was told a story about the Chinese wise man Lao-Tzu, a man born 500 years prior to Christ. As the story goes, Lao-Tzu decided to leave the province where he lived because he became disillusioned with the corrupt decaying dynasty that ruled it. (Very similar to how many of us currently feel about the corruption and decay running through our government and country here in America.) When he arrived at the border, a guard asked the wise old man if he would write a book before he left, instructing seekers in “the art of living.” Lao-Tzu willingly agreed. He called his book the Tao Te Ching. When it was completed, he left China and was never seen or heard from again.
The Tao Te Ching is the sacred text of the Chinese religion known as Taoism and one of the most widely translated books of all time. Its followers strive to live according to the principles of the Tao which they believe governs the order of the Universe. Similar to Zen, Tao, or “the Way”, is a spiritual path; it must be intimately experienced instead of intellectually comprehended if insights are to be discovered. One of its main themes is unity, based upon yielding rather than resisting. When a seeker commits to “the Way”, he or she sheds all expectations, becoming an empty vessel to be filled to the brim with both the yin and the yang energies of life; career and home, dark and light, sadness and joy, intimacy and solitude, aggression and passivity, etc.
How can the enigmatic advice of an ancient Chinese philosopher help any of use to get our own lives in order? If our souls are so preoccupied with undoing, how does anything ever get done.
The truth is that is gets done by pausing. By reflecting on the way in which our life proceeds day in and day out. What works and what doesn’t work. As we pause to reflect before doing, before speaking, before reacting, we come to an awareness of how the nature of all things – even the minutia of domestic life – contributes to the harmony of the whole.
One of the illuminating lessons that Lao-Tzu left us is that “naming is the origin of all particular things” and that “mystery and manifestation arise from the same source” I have taken this wisdom to heart and have learned that even drudgery can be transformed through a willing and open heart. It can be changed into labors of love.
Begin with the words that describe, or name, your creative efforts. Let “chores” becomes “tasks” Stop calling your daily round “housework” and try calling it “home caring”. Start enjoying that job of walking your dogs as a time to enjoy nature. Redefining our work casts a subtle but powerful spell over the subconscious mind.
Our daily work, be it at the office or domestic theophanies, are visible manifestations of the devine throughout our lives. We find them by looking for Mystery in the mundane, seeing the Sacred in the ordinary. Lao-Tzu urged seekers in “regard to the small as important” and “to make much of the little”.
Today, dear reader, try to glimpse everything you do, no matter how insignificant it may seem, as a part of your journey to wholeness and creativity. Remember that each day is wonder-filled.
You just have to pause, look around, and see the wonder of it all.
I want to think of life itself as a kind of lovemaking… the chance to appreciate what I live with and cherish to is fullest.
