"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.