"When a wise person hears Tao,
he practices it diligently.
When an average person hears Tao,
he practices it sometimes,
and just as often ignores it.
When an inferior person hears Tao,
he roars with laughter.
If he didn't laugh, it wouldn't be Tao.
Thus the age-old sayings:
The way to illumination appears dark.
The way that advances appears to retreat.
The way that is easy appears to be hard.
The highest virtue appears empty.
The purest goodness appears soiled.
The most profound creativity appears fallow.
The strongest power appears weak.
The most genuine appears unreal.
The greatest space has no corners.
The greatest talent matures slowly.
The greatest voice can't be heard.
The greatest image can't be seen.
Tao is hidden and has no name.
Tao alone nourishes and fulfills all things."
My illumination came out of this:
My father, lying on the table in the hospital, eyes and mouth half open, filmed over, not breathing. "His spirit is still in that room," my mother said. What did I know about that then? When all of a sudden life forces you to believe something you've never been confronted with before.
Not two days after Robin Williams's death, I heard about a friend's suicide attempt. He survived, thank God.
Even I'd thought about it from time to time. Imagined it so deeply my heart seemed to stop. Wondered about my weapon of choice. Once I went through the motions with a knife, sawing back and forth as it descended through the air to raise the barest scratches on my arm.
I always thought I was just too chicken. But my illumination came out of this:
Staring death in the face and knowing, I'm not ready to go there yet.
he practices it diligently.
When an average person hears Tao,
he practices it sometimes,
and just as often ignores it.
When an inferior person hears Tao,
he roars with laughter.
If he didn't laugh, it wouldn't be Tao.
Thus the age-old sayings:
The way to illumination appears dark.
The way that advances appears to retreat.
The way that is easy appears to be hard.
The highest virtue appears empty.
The purest goodness appears soiled.
The most profound creativity appears fallow.
The strongest power appears weak.
The most genuine appears unreal.
The greatest space has no corners.
The greatest talent matures slowly.
The greatest voice can't be heard.
The greatest image can't be seen.
Tao is hidden and has no name.
Tao alone nourishes and fulfills all things."
My illumination came out of this:
My father, lying on the table in the hospital, eyes and mouth half open, filmed over, not breathing. "His spirit is still in that room," my mother said. What did I know about that then? When all of a sudden life forces you to believe something you've never been confronted with before.
Not two days after Robin Williams's death, I heard about a friend's suicide attempt. He survived, thank God.
Even I'd thought about it from time to time. Imagined it so deeply my heart seemed to stop. Wondered about my weapon of choice. Once I went through the motions with a knife, sawing back and forth as it descended through the air to raise the barest scratches on my arm.
I always thought I was just too chicken. But my illumination came out of this:
Staring death in the face and knowing, I'm not ready to go there yet.
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