Understanding the Tao: Finding Balance and Tranquility in Nature

Imagine yourself in a boat on a river. The Tao is the river and the boat and you. You are in the boat; you are the persona that floats temporarily in the boat. The boat is the spirit that floats endlessly on the river. The river is the circle that flows endlessly into itself. The Tao is all this. There is nothing outside the Tao.

The Flow of the Tao

You can think of the Tao as both the river and the principle behind how the river flows. The river flows unimpeded. Unless you impede it. The river expects you will flow with it, and you flow with the river when you follow your true nature. You impede the flow when you go against your true nature.

Recognizing Life's True Nature

Consider the example of a child born in a vineyard. They drink wine, like everyone in the family. However, the child does not like wine and their spirit longs for water. As a child, they content themselves with wine, following the Tao. But as they grow into adulthood and long past the time they could have gone off to seek water, they continue to drink wine. They have gone against their true nature, impeding the Tao. People often think there are consequences to this, and the truth is that there are not. The Tao is gentle. The river continues to flow, choppily, and the Tao remains, ready for you to consult.

Embracing the Simple Life

It would probably be better for the child to explain it to the adult. While the adult is worrying about paying bills, looking good, and staying young, the child is jumping in puddles, walking through leaves, and splashing in rivers. Despite the many screens in today's world, the essence of the Tao lies in simplicity and harmony with nature.

Walking in the Forest

I live by the edge of a forest, where there is a path from my house, and its stream flows at the boundary of my garden. When I walk with my children through the forest, they soon forget everything, skipping, picking up stones, poking in the mud with sticks, carrying branches, looking amazed at mushrooms, eating wild berries, marveling at beetles, deer footprints, and wolf tracks. They stand in the stream, hitting it with twigs to make splashes and climbing trees and rocky banks. In contrast, when I walk with adults, they talk of their worries, not stopping. One year after a particular outing, I wrote a poem on my website with the following image:

I am in the forest, my friend is talking. I hear leaves in the breeze as a stream trickles over mossy rocks. My friend is talking, I see shining beetles on wavering flowers and insects twinkling in the sunlight. My friend is talking, and I listen to what she is searching for, I offer it to her through endless silence, but she does not hear.

Adults often want definitions, understanding, knowledge, and to pass it on to others. But the Tao is not defined. It is not intellectually understood, and knowledge of it cannot be increased from what we know at the moment we are born. So, rather than trying to define it, I will offer a sense of tranquility and understanding.

Embracing Simplicity

To get a sense of happiness and space, to feel a silent something that lies within and around untroubled at peace and alight with joy and a love that has no object to cause it to be this way, you need to embrace simplicity. Hold on to the center; man was made to sit quietly and find the truth within.

Conclusion

The answer is in the silent space, the purity of nature, and the simplicity of life. As you walk with sticks, splash around in rivers, feel delighted when you catch sight of a fish, stare in awe as a dragonfly passes, or happily throw mud at one another, you will get a sense of happiness and space. This is the essence of the Tao. Find it in the river, in the forest, and in your own heart.