verse Thirteen

Having graduated law school and passed the bar, I am now in line with thousands of other recently minted attorneys looking for work. Humbling experience to understate things. And then there's loans.

Verse Thirteen opens with a slap. Accept disgrace and misfortune graciously. Sh!t happens. Disgrace is equated to complacently being unimportant. I am not unimportant in all spheres. None of us is unimportant in all spheres...There are some ways in which I do not want to be important - the infamy conferred by getting caught screwing up badly, for example, I am happily doing without. No hit and runs, no random assassinations, no corruption charges.

The kind of importance where I make a difference outside my comfortable sphere, that kind of importance I crave. And without a job, it seems the farthest thing from possible (although volunteer opportunities are helping me fulfill those leanings).

Misfortune, says the Tao, is a natural by-product of having a body. cf: my post on running hills. But I get it. No one gets to the end of the race without confronting adversity in many forms. Physical pain, conniving competition, tactical failures. To avoid emotional pain I think the Tao is saying not to expect gold medals to drop onto one's neck: be humble, don't worry about winning, simply take care of doing what it is needs to be done. That's where to find satisfaction. That's how to be if not important then authentically human  - by doing what must be done, not by trying to be important.

Having never seen the show about Snooki (Jersey Shore?) I can't really say, but I'm guessing that's where the striving to be important leads you. And there's another lesson for politicians - hearing the siren call of taking care of the world in a doing-what-needs-to-be-done sort of way is tantalizingly close to the taking-care-of-the-world to be important way. The striving, I think, the Tao frowns upon. The striving, I think, leads to injuries physical and mental, and harm to the connected community that is the planet. In a big-picture kind of way. (The small picture kind of way lands you in op-ed columns and cable talk shows as an example of "Don't.")

I confess to a neurotic fear of driving in snowy conditions. I get through by reminding myself to drive the road I'm on. Maybe it's not slippery, maybe it's not hilly. Maybe it is - aside from moving to someplace warm year round I'm stuck where I will sometimes have to drive snowy roads. Perhaps driving (or running) the road I have will lead to the last line of verse thirteen: if I love the world as myself I will be rewarded with the gift of being able to care for all things. Perhaps life under the radar will fulfill. Perhaps my rising panic about not having the vehicle of a job to work through will send me off the rails into the icy median strip a few more times before I sort things out. All bets are off. I accept not knowing the future (and all blame for mixing up one big batch of metaphor that last sentence).

I am driving the road I'm on (running, walking, talking, reading, thinking). Is that the best I can do? The Tao tells me to avoid the value judgment. I'm not sure I can but when all else fails it's a good place to start.

To Run Like a Dog

(yes, it's been awhile. this is what blogs do best, collect dust...)(I will get back to the Tao where I left off...promise!)

I have a new sense of empathy for my little house wolf, a fluffy but sturdy cockapoo approaching 3 years and 30 pounds.

We run together, sometimes, for half an hour, an hour depending on the weather. She would follow me anywhere, and pretty much has. She doesn’t speak English. Just accepts the collar, the leash, and trots on hunting for good smells and markers to pee on. She doesn’t get to decide where we go, how far, how fast. She doesn’t get to decide how long her little pit stops last, either, beyond what I allow for her biological necessity.

My fast friend and I have been running together a couple times a week for half a year. We do two speed workouts a week. My fast friend and I are well-matched: I don’t quit and she doesn’t slow down.

Here’s where the inter-species empathy comes in.

Mondays are hill days. On hill days, I run like a dog. We have a route set that goes up gradually more challenging hills. Probably too many of them. I’m breathing heavy. My heart is pounding, my lungs are burning and if I am lucky my knees don’t buckle.

But I am not going to stop. Maybe I am two paces behind my friend. We crest a hill, pick a landmark and turn around. I catch my breath on the downhill only to go through the whole process again. And again. We live in a very hilly neighborhood.

The workout takes about 40 minutes. After our warmup, I cannot distinguish where my will stops and my friend's starts. Unlike my dog and I, there’s no leash. Just commingled intent to chase up and down hills repeatedly until we have completed the route. By the time we’re cooling down, a combination of exhaustion and the animal instinct to get home usually prevent me from holding a conversation in English or any other language.

Like my loyal dog who runs with me, I relinquish control over the route, the time, the pace. I tether my will to my friend’s pace and she probably tethers her pace to my endurance. Together we run farther and faster than we would have alone.

Tellingly, neither of us has tried the hill route solo.

On Tuesdays, to make sure Monday’s run did no lasting harm, I click my dog into her collar, leash and head out for a nice easy run. On Tuesdays I am back in charge of the pace, the route, the distance -- quite mindful of the creature tethered running next to me unable to express anything but the run and occasional need to relieve herself. And the ancient domesticated dedication that wakes her when I do, ambling downstairs with a stretch and a hope that this day is not Monday, that I will bring her along so she can run like a dog.

verse 12: more concrete abstractions

Oversimplifying modern life, probably oversimplifying life 2500 years ago even, the Tao cautions that the five colors, five tones, and five flavors get old fast. So stop racing around seeking sensation already, because exposure to same has worn out the receptors.

"Racing and hunting madden the mind..." Road racing tends to sharpen my focus, at least for a little while. Perhaps they mean rat racing, an interesting concept for life in ancient Asia. Wonder what that meant? I don't think subsistence farmers were all about trying to stock up seeds and buy their neighbor's lands or anything. Perhaps this is aimed at mid-level bureaucrats, of whom I am sure there was a surplus of those even then.

Hunting. Hunting for food is one thing - I just read "Born to Run" and was fascinated by the description of hunting/runners wearing out their prey by tenacious, patient outrunning it. Makes my little jaunts seem pathetic. And I am sure my dog things I am pathetic, all these times we go out running and never once come back with any meat. Hunting at a big-box retailer is quite another. (cf peopleofwalmart.com)...

"Precious things lead one astray." Define precious and I'll contingently go astray. Dark chocolate? Yes. Inhumanely mined diamonds? No. But I can see the gist of it. Craving what the other guy wants to afford can only lead me to take on more burden. More debt. More of a job than I might want. I have read tons of stories of people who work enough to live the life they want, not the one that they are being sold. Conscious choice is a big part of it. Choosing the less expensive life without HD tv, big screen, expensive internet access, fancy cars.

But this smacks of the smarmy clever philosopher-kings keeping me under their control, no? Or does it. If I choose not to shackle myself to an oversize, hyperstress desk job, am I being a submissive citizen or a subversive?

The sage, in all of this, which according to the Tao is someone I assume I am supposed to emulate, is guided by feeling, not "what he sees." Not what is on the earth, or the tv screen, in front of him.

So stop racing around in search of stimuli, already. One of the gifts of my daily without-headphones runs is just that. I get the natural stimuli of the feeling in my legs. The weather on my face. The sound of the wind - sure, cars and stuff, and bus exhaust sometimes, and (*&*&* cigarette smoke are man-made stimuli and probably qualify for inclusion in the five whatsis rubric above. I might drink some water, I hear what's around me, I feel what I'm made of.

To get to that point for me means racing around. Well, running slowly anyway. I am not in a place where I can find that by sitting down and shutting up for any length of time. But at least I know where to find it.

verse Eleven: the useful parts

After yesterday's metaphysical foray, v11 makes me very happy. It's concrete. Tangible. It's all about what you can touch as contrasted with what you can use.

You can touch a doorframe. The useful part of a doorframe is the empty space that it surrounds. Without the space, I'd walk right into the wall. Hm. Even do that with lots of space between the doorframes.

Profit comes from what is there, usefulness from what is not. The big phrase that keeps going through my mind that must resonate somehow is that one gets stronger not on the days one runs, but on the days one rests. Profit comes from grappling with challenge after challenge; usefulness comes from what is left in one's head as learning from the problems 1 through n-1.

In my life, what is not here are the answers to what happens next. What is here are the tracings of things that have happened before. From which I can learn (both good and not-so-good lessons). Trust. Sometimes I get so wired up that I cannot see that I will solve problems with the same intentionality that has brought me successfully to this point. As if I am starting over each time I'm ruffled. Too stressed. Or taking that uncarved block idea a little too literally. If I really am one with everything, then I have all the possible answers in my back pocket. And I am old enough to know that there is more than one right answer to any situation.

I think about politics, and Microsoft's old marketing strategy. Establish a beachhead and then go backfill. M'soft used to announce all kinds of products that were barely more than half-baked, fresh off the laser printer. Then they'd take months or years to actually sell whatever did what they promised up front. Good way to zamboni competitors. Politicians get into trouble, or announce things, and then they have to solve the problem. Attention spans being what they are today, it seems like there is only one shot to get something right. But that's only true on live TV. Movie scenes get more than one take. Politicians get more than one news cycle, unless it's something truly abysmal like getting caught engaging in homosexual acts after a lifetime of preaching and voting homophobia.

But I digress. Profit comes from what is in front of me (these days, usually an enormous unknown challenge); usefulness comes from the spaces around that challenge. And I run much more often than I rest, but I don't lift weights every day. Fuel comes from the food I eat. Usefulness comes from that which I don't - because if I did eat everything else, it wouldn't be fuel anymore.

verse ten: I like eleven better

Can I skip v10? I like v11 better. v10 rambles. And it is all paradoxical. Be brand new and fully-formed, be inchoate and fully functional. Carry body and soul and embrace the "one" can you be all that at once? Can you rule without cleverness? Hmm. Don't get me started.

"Opening and closing the Gates of Heaven, Can you play the role of woman?" First off, this is probably not referring to the reform Jewish prayer book. Second off, what's a gate of heaven? The obstacle between my profane earthly self and my divine? (what divine?) And what does the role of woman have to do with it, other than that obvious birthing metaphor. Giving birth comes up explicitly later - bearing yet not possessing. Our children are not our children, right? And make me one with everything.

Understand and be open to all things but at the same time the Tao values holding all that plus at the same time doing nothing. Nothing is really hard for me to do. I used to excel at it.

Work yet not take credit? Oh, that's a tough one. I have too much ego for that. I suspect most people do.

To lead without dominating is the primal virtue. All about controlling people again. To lead without dominating, be patient enough to get the other guy to think it was your idea. I guess that leads back to working without taking credit. But it smacks right into ruling without cleverness, which I suspect is impossible.

Does this have anything to do with running? Carrying body and soul starts off good. Embrace the one. Hit the wall. It's all impermanent, all of it.

I still count my miles and minutes-per. I wonder how long I'm going to get away with it, but I look back on how long I already have and I am grateful. Smartass, but grateful.

Ok. I made it through v10. v11 sings to me. v10 just drones on.

Verse Nine: easy peazy

Verse Nine is about restraint. Stopping before ruining things. My high school art teacher took pains to teach us to do just enough on our pieces, not too much. Here the text reminds us that oversharpening knives makes things worse. Filling a cup too much makes a mess. Totally practical advice, no? Wealth just makes an attractive target that's hard to defend. Power leads to disaster.

Well, they had me until the wealth and titles leading to disaster part, though thanks to the evolution of a diffuse and grassroots citizen journalist movement, I suspect a lot more disaster that follows power comes to light. The mighty certainly do fall. This is not the first lesson that those of us who weren't born to wealth and power are taught, though, that we should guard against disaster - since we weren't born to these things, we strive for them. In striving school, they don't explicitly say keep your nose clean or else your fall will be swift and damaging. I suppose thinking about it that that should not have to be said. It's a kindergarten lesson - keep your hands to yourself, wait your turn, there's enough crackers for everyone.

The really interesting line of thought involves how you know when enough is enough. Recently, I fought with that dilemma preparing for two separate simulated hearings. Eventually, I felt simultaneously over and underprepared, in equal measure, so I knocked off and went for it.

I know if I run too much I'll get injured. After about 15 years as a self-identified runner, however, I am still working to figure out how much is too much & under what circumstances...

If I spoil the dog I'll wind up with an incorrigible beast. But knife sharpening? Trial preparation? Watercolor painting? To me it seems that the ability to know when enough is enough isn't always an intuition thing for most of us. It's a grunt lesson learned through experience, not by letting go of everything and letting heavenly powers or the Tao or the Force handle things for us.

I'd love to cut and run and trust that situations I need to perform in handle themselves. Brain surgery? No, I'd prefer the surgeon have trained, studied, practiced, and not just stayed at a Holiday Inn Express the night before. I want her expertise earned, not emergent as an article of faith.

Perhaps v9 is another repackaged way to keep the proletariat from amassing wealth or power, by scaring us off it and reassuring us that life will be better if striving to achieve is disfavored.

Dull blades cause trouble, too. Undersharpening, underpreparing, and not putting enough acorns away for the winter cause problems. The Tao can't help me with all of that; I have to take care of my own business. Maybe it worked for the (Grateful) Deadheads, and maybe it works for the Taoists and the twelve-steppers, but I'll take my responsibility with a side of invested effort, hold the let-go-let-god thing, thanks.

Verse Eight: Go with the Flow

Water makes its first appearance in the text. This Tao thing is supposed to simply flow, like water, wherever it wants. Water, of course, goes when it's aiming downhill. These days, I am on all fronts aimed uphill. Squarely. Steeply.

Water is to be exalted because it doesn't decide to go. It just goes. Is there even an analog for personhood? Without getting all wifty about it. I am who I am, that's for sure. And the more things I have to do at once the less I censor what comes outta my mouth, so my mouth is the Tao? What comes out of my mouth is not to be exalted, that's for certain, especially not when I'm stressed.

I read recently that embarrassing moments stick so vividly in memory because they are whole-body experiences. The more my mouth runs, the more stupid stuff I say, the more sticks in my embarrassed brain and shames me. It's a vicious cycle. But if I am to be the Tao, exalted like flowing water, then I go with it. And maybe eventually callous up to the fallout of my obnoxious mouth - there must be people out there with hides of teflon for all the things that get done and said in public that are so much stupider than my own transgressions that probably aren't half as bad as I think they are.

The rest of the verse is about how to be good: meditate deeply, live close to the land, be kind and just, competent, and strategic. Ending with "No fight: no blame." So if I don't fight anyone on that which comes outta their mouths, then I leave that to reflect on them not me. If no one fights me, then I can't blame anyone for what smartass remark I just made. Not that I would, I am well aware of my mouth problem.

These are bigger concepts. I wish I could write them, run them, applicable to something besides my big mouth, but that's what's in front of me at the moment. And that, I suppose, is good Tao. Working as best as you can with what's in front of you.