Tag Archives: Laozi

Daoist Contemplation and Chinese Medicine, Part 1: History and definition of contemplation in Daoist texts

Different forms of contemplative practices have been one of the key elements in Daoist tradition. This essay will appear in four parts dealing with:

1. History and definition of contemplation in Daoist texts

2. Contemplative practices and concept of body-mind

3. Contemplation and dietary practices

4. Contemplation and art of medicine

In these short essays I define contemplative practices, look historical relevance and how has it affected the development Chinese medicine and what does it has to do with ideals of art of medicine. Some concepts presented might no longer fit to current understanding of Chinese medicine, but they have played consequential role in formulation of ideas and have been influential cultural context for ancient doctors who wrote some of the foremost classics of Chinese medicine. While reading these essays please keep in mind, that heart and mind are same word (xīn 心) in Chinese.

Defining Daoist contemplation

To be able to track down history of contemplative practices we first need to be able to define what we mean by contemplation. Modern practitioners usually prefer to use trendy terms like mindfulness often defined as conscious awareness and non-judgmental acceptance. While this might work well for some forms of practices, for more historical study we have to to rely on Daoist and Chinese Buddhist terms, definitions and context.

Mindfulness research literature often takes terms sati (Pāli) and smṛti (Sanskrit), which directly translates to Chinese niàn 念, to mean contemplation and mindfulness. Niàn means memory or recollection; to think on or to reflect upon something; to read or study. In Daoist context this term can be used for studying scriptures and contemplating or holding an object or idea in mind. Sometimes this is done by concentrating on a deity.

However, most of the Daoist texts use term guān 觀 in Chinese literature. It translates to looking and observing. Very often it is used in connection with word nèi 內 which means inner or internal to denote the nature and direction of observation. Therefore nèiguān 內觀 could be translated as inner observation. Nèiguān also serves as literal translation of Buddhist concepts of vipassanā (Pāli or vipaśyanā in Sanskrit). Inner contemplation or nèiguān is set of practices where one directs his awareness within himself. In different types and stages of the practice object of awareness can be body as whole or some part like an organ. Object can be an emotion and how it is experienced within body-mind in level qì or energy. Many of these techniques concentrate on breathing. Some of the breathing meditations are similar to what is described in Buddhist Ānāpānasati Sutta (Pāli) or Ānāpānasmṛti Sūtra (Sanskrit). However Daoist practitioners often start their practice by concentrating on subtleties of breathing felt on lower abdomen instead the mindfulness of breathing itself.

The aim of contemplation has usually been, especially in Daoist practice, to be able to slowly shift ones attention to mind itself. This is usually seen as the key element of the practice in Daoist context as the “real” contemplation is apophatic in nature, striving to attain total emptiness and complete negation or detachment from desires, concepts and contents of the mind. This emptiness is obtained by silencing the mind with sustained non-interfering observation or Nèiguān. The famous Qīngjìngjīng 清靜經 explains:

能遣之者,内觀於心,心無其心;外觀於形,形無其形;遠觀於物,物無其物。三者既悟,唯見於空。觀 空以空,空無所空。所空既無,無無亦無。無無既無,湛然常寂。寂無所寂,慾豈能生?慾既不生, 即是真靜。

“These [desires] can be removed by internally contemplating the heart (mind). The heart is not this heart. Externally contemplating form. The form is not this forms. From distance contemplating things. These things are not these things. After these three have been realized and [you are] just seeing these as emptiness, contemplate this emptiness with emptiness. Emptiness does not exists in emptiness. In [this] emptiness there is still [further] non-existence. Non-existence of non-existence is also non-existing. [When] non-existence of non-existence is non-existing, there is deepest and eternal stillness. In stillness [where even] stillness does not exists, how could desires arise? When desires cannot arise, it is true peace.”

Despite the epilogue by Gě Xuán 葛玄 (164–244) who attributed the text to goddess Xīwángmǔ 西王母, in reality the text is probably written during early Tang-dynasty (618 – 907)[1]. The wording is clearly influenced by Buddhism but it gives the essential idea about contemplative practice and its apophatic nature. Following this nature we can start tracing contemplative practices through history. This nature is crucial for understanding continuation of the practice, its ideals and importance to Chinese medical and philosophical culture.

Early views and history of contemplative practices in China

Nèiguān practices that flourished in China during Tang-dynasty (618 – 907) are usually thought to have their origin in Buddhism. Buddhism started spreading to China during the 2nd century CE and one of the most well known Buddhist missionaries during the time was Ān Shìgāo 安世高 (c. 148 – 180) who translated Buddhist texts to Chinese language[2]. Among these texts there was also Ānāpānasati Sutta containing outlines of same idea used in practice of nèiguān. But even before that the practice was already well known in China. One of the oldest and synonymous expression to nèiguān is kǎonèishēn 考內身 which can be found from scripture titled Báixīn 白心 or Purifying the mind. In Báixīn there is a passage which says:

欲愛吾身,先知吾情君親六合,以考內身。以此知象,乃知行情既知行情,乃知養生。

“Desires and affections [arise from] our own body. First we understand our emotions, ruling sentiments and six harmonies by looking inside the body. Then we’ll know images after which we understand movement of emotions. By knowing movement of emotions we then understand cultivation of life (yǎngshēng).”

I translate kǎonèishēn here as looking inside the body. It might have been more easily understood by Western readers of spiritual practices, if I had translated it to inspecting inner bodies but that might be a bit stretching for context of early Daoist texts. Therefore the word body (shēn 身) needs bit clarification. The view of body in many archaic Chinese texts was much more broad than our modern use of the word. It was not just torso with four limbs but more a vessel composed of and containing different energies, spiritual influences and essence (jīng 精). It was seen intimately connected to time and world around us. I’ll come back to nature of body-mind in next part but the important thing here is that Báixīn gives advice to turn our attention into our body-minds to become aware of emotions and mental images. Báixīn also belongs to the earliest texts using term yǎngshēng or cultivating life which later formed a central concept in many medical and religious practices.

Báixīn dates back to 285 – 235 B.C. being from last period of Jìxià Academy (Jìxià xuégōng 稷下學宮)[3]. It is included in collection of political and philosophical texts named Guǎnzǐ 管子. The collection contains three other meditative texts namely Xīnshù shàng 心術上, Xīnshù xià 心術下 and Nèiyè 內業. Both Xīnshù texts speak of emptiness of the heart or mind. “Empty it (mind) from desires and Shén (Spirit) enters its domain. Clean from impure and Shén will remain in its place.” (《心術上》:虛其欲,神將入舍。掃除不潔,神乃留處。)

Xīnshù texts expand the ideas presented in older text called Nèiyè and transform individual meditation practice to fit the fields of economics and politics. They advocate importance of contemplative mindfulness practice to rulers and bureaucrats. The ideal ruler must remain detached from confusion of emotions and doubts. Their mind must remain clear in order to rule efficiently. Xīnshù xià states that:

心安,是國安也。心治,是國治也。… 治心在於中,治言出於口,治事加於民;故功作而民從,則 百姓治矣。

“When mind is peaceful nation is at peace. When mind is governed nation is [under] governance…When governed mind stays at its center and controlled words come out of mouth then governed actions are guiding the subjects. Thus good results are achieved and people will follow. In this way the common people are governed.”

Many texts from Huáng-Lǎo School promote contemplation to gain understanding of laws of governing people and contemplation was seen as a mean to understand universal way or law which also controlled the society. This discourse is highly interesting when we compare it to modern mindfulness movement and especially mindful leadership where we see similar claims and uses. Meditative texts of Guǎnzǐ do not demand worship, divination or other ritualistic techniques. They are plain and simple self cultivation practices written by the literati to other members of ruling class of their time. The fact that these texts were included in highly political text collection gives us an impression that these practices were wide spread and not known only in religious circles. This is especially evident as many of the texts in Guǎnzǐ belong to strict Legalist school that saw tradition and softer values as weakness to be cut down[4].

The Guǎnzǐ collection also includes scripture called Nèiyè 內業 or Internal practice, which is probably the oldest of surviving Chinese meditation manuals and dates back to circa 325 B.C. The poetic style of Nèiyè suggests oral tradition and therefore even older origin.[3] Nèiyè presents very clear and plain description of meditation. Its themes are similar to many Tang-dynasty meditation texts and Nèiyè defines connection of man to universe, reason for contemplation, different attitudes and key elements for practice. The text begins with idea how human being is connected to cosmos:

凡物之精,比則為生下生五穀,上為列星。流於天地之間,謂之鬼神,藏於胸中,謂之聖人。

“From the essence of every being comes their life. Below it gives birth to five grains, above forms the constellations. Its flow between heaven and earth we call as spirits and gods. When it is stored within center of chest we call him a sage.”

During writing of Nèiyè the idea of essence (jīng 精) was still developing. The essence was seen as something having nature of divinity or spirit. Later it became described more substantial and bit liquid like as in texts like Huángdì Nèijīng Sùwèn 黃帝內經素問. The concept of Jīng-Shén 精神, which is usually translated as life-force or vigor it still retained its early intangibility. Some of the early texts see essence as one of the “bodily spirits” or shén.

The text proceeds defining how all the sorrows arise from the heart and they are ended with the heart. The heart was seen to effect everyone around us, bringing with it our fortunes or misfortunes. Only cultivation of the heart was seen as means for real moral development and thus Nèiyè states that:

賞不足以勸善,刑不足以懲過。氣意得而天下服。心意定而天下聽。

“Rewards are not sufficient to encourage virtue, nor punishments enough for disciplining. [Only] when qi-mind is obtained, that what is under the heaven will be subjugated. Only when heart-mind is stopped that what is under the heaven will obey.”

Same idea of shedding false morals, ethical values and empty rituals and replacing them by true nature was recurring theme in even earlier Zhuāngzǐ 莊子.

Author(s) of Nèiyè also pondered how or what in the mind can observe itself:

何謂解之,在於心安。我心治,官乃治。我心安,官乃安。治之者心也,安之者心也;心以藏心,心之中又有心焉。彼心之心,音以先言,音然後形,形然後言。言然後使,使然後治。不治必亂,亂乃死。

“How to explain that which is in peaceful heart? [When] I (ego) and heart are regulated, officials (organs) are regulated. [When] I and heart are at peace, officials are in peace. One regulating them is heart. One pacifying them is heart. There is heart hidden within heart. In the center of the heart there is another heart! This heart within heart is the voice before the words. From the voice follow forms, from the form follow the words. From the words follow actions and from the actions follow governing. [From that which] is not governed follows chaos and from the chaos follows death.”

As non-controlled mind was seen as main reason for chaos and destruction the often emphasized benefit from cultivation was freedom from internal conflict and outer catastrophes. In Nèiyè this freedom is describes thus:

中無惑意,外無邪菑,心全於中,形全於外。不逢天菑,不遇人害,謂之聖人。

“Without confusing thoughts within, one is externally without evil and disasters. Heart maintained in the center and form is maintained externally. [Thus one does] not encounter heavenly calamities nor face human troubles [therefore] we call him a sage.”

Freedom from human suffering later became exaggerated more and more until it became immortality and total untouchability during Han-dynasty and was still aim of contemplative practitioners during Tang-dynasty. See for example text called Preserving Shén and refining Qì.
The themes of freedom, emptiness and cultivation of heart were also present in many other writings of the time, but were often less instructive and more ambiguous in their poetic or prosaic expression. Of these texts Dàodéjīng 道德經 and Zhuāngzǐ are famous examples. Zhuāngzǐ for example describes fasting of the heart in following quote:

回曰:「敢問心齋。」仲尼曰:「若一志,无聽之以耳而聽之以心,无聽之以心而聽之以氣。聽止於耳,心止於符。氣也者,虛而待物者也。唯道集虛。虛者,心齋也。」

“[Yán] Huí said: Could I ask about fasting of mind?
Zhòng Ní answered: When having singular will, you’ll not hear with ears but you hear them with heart. When not hearing with heart you’ll hear them with qì. Hearing stops to listening with ears. Heart stops to symbols. The Qì is emptiness that receives things. Only Dào gathers in emptiness. Emptiness is fasting of the heart.”

Dàodéjīng as the best known Daoist text has collected many different translations around it. The text describes contemplation in its 16th chapter:

致虛極,守靜篤。萬物並作,吾以觀復。夫物芸芸,各復歸其根。歸根曰靜,是謂復命。復命曰常,知常曰明。不知常,妄作凶。知常容,容乃公,公乃天,天乃道,道乃久,沒身不殆。

“Reaching the utmost emptiness and guarding stillness and honesty, 10 000 things are working in union. Contemplating this, I’ll return. Countless humans and beings all return to their root. Returning to the root is called stillness. It is also described as returning to life (fù mìng is literally returning the destiny). Returning to life is called eternity. Knowing eternity is called enlightenment. Not knowing eternity [you just] arrogantly cause disasters. By knowing eternal you’ll accept. From accepting follows fairness. From fairness follows completion. From completion follows heavenly and from heavenly follows Dào. From Dào follows continuation and [then even] disappearance of body is not fatal.”

Considering this particular chapter we have to take into account that Dàodéjīng, as we now read it, was edited by Wáng Bì during early third century. The chapter found from the Mǎwángduī excavation, dating to second century B.C.[5] is very similar but a century older Guōdiàn[6] version does not mention contemplation at all. The importance of observing with empty mind is prominent in many other chapters as well.

Taking into account textual evidence about these contemplative practices and the idea of using them for returning to original state or to finding true nature had clearly been already developed before end of Warring States period. The Chinese still remained isolated from India centuries after writing the meditative texts of Guǎnzǐ or Dàodéjīng and Zhuāngzì. It was only at the first and second centuries during which trading of goods and thoughts between China and India really begun. If we consider the possible dating of historical Buddha to be somewhere around the commonly agreed 566–486 B.C.[7], it is hardly likely that Buddhist influence at the time could have induced such a wide spread of contemplative ideology in China. Buddhist tradition speaks of teachers Ārāḍa Kālāmalta ja Uddaka Rāmaputta as well reputed teachers, so we can say that these practices were also more wide spread in India during that time. But with lack of active trade routes, cultural exchange and having textual sources showing more wide spread cultural use of the contemplative ideas in China, we may conclude that it is highly likely that contemplative practices were developed independently in China and the Buddhist influences merged to Chinese contemplative ideologies and practices only later.

Rise of Buddhism in China however sparked new interest in contemplative practices. Old texts were edited, new texts were written and older classics were interpreted from viewpoint more fitting to contemplative practices. Zuòwàng lùn 坐忘論, which quotes heavily on Dàodéjīng and Zhuāngzǐ, is good example of reinterpreting older scriptures. The spread of Buddhism also influenced other areas of practices like dietary taboos and ethical codes. What remained the same was apophatic nature of contemplative practice. To quote a Tang-dynasty text called Nèiguānjīng 內觀經 – Classic of inner contemplation:

道也者,不可言傳口授而得之。常虛心靜神,道自來居。

“Dào cannot be put to words. By mouth it cannot be given or obtained. [By having] constantly empty heart and tranquil spirit, Dào naturally returns to its residence.”

 

References

  1. Verellen Franciscus and Schipper Kristofer. The Taoist Canon: A Historical Companion to the Daozang. University Of Chicago Press, 2005.
  2. Greene Eric M. Healing breaths and rotting bones: On the relationship between buddhist and chinese meditation practices during the eastern han and three kingdoms period. Journal of Chinese Religions, 4(2):145–184, 3 2014. (www)
  3. Roth Harold D. Daoism in the guanzi. In book Liu Xiaogan (editor), Dao Companion to Daoist Philosophy, pages 265–280. Springer, 2015.
  4. Rickett Allyn W. Guanzi: Political, Economic, and Philosophical Essays from Early China. Princeton University Press, 1998.
  5. Harper Donald. Early Chinese Medical Literature. Routledge, 1997.
  6. Meyer Dirk. Meaning-Construction in Warring States Philosophical Discourse: A Discussion of the Palaeographic Materials from Tomb Guōdiàn One. Doctoral thesis, Leiden University, 2008. (www)
  7. Heinz Bechert, editor. The Dating o fthe Historical Buddha. Die Datierung des Historischen Buddha. Symposien zur Buddhismusforschung, IV, 1, 1991. (www)

Healing the Heart: Meditation and Healing in Daoist Philosophy

Guest post by Park Seung-Hyun

Bio: I am HK Research Professor at the Institute of Mind Humanities, Wonkwang University. I received my B.A. and M.A. at the Department of Philosophy, Chung-ang University in Korea, and completed my Ph.D at the Department of Philosophy, Peking University. My thesis was titled “A Study on Huainanzi and ZhuanhXue in early Han Dynasty.” I believe that the true meaning of philosophy emerges only when the essence obtained by pursuing theoretical issues is implemented in real life. In this regard, I believe that philosophical questions should be focused on how human dignity can be realized in the real world. My research interests go to the subject of philosophical counseling and healing, where the issues of human pain are dealt with in various perspectives. My working project lies at the intersection of the train theory and the subject of mind healing. 

 

Recently, there has been burgeoning interest in healing for illnesses of the heart.1 People living in developed civilizations are burdened by heavy workloads that force them to live busy lives. As people produce more, they also consume more. It is common knowledge that in modern society, people are often treated as tools of production, and are valued for their utility rather than their being. Human dignity is determined by one’s degree of usefulness, and thereby humanity loses its true meaning.

Why do people today place such high value on material civilization to the detriment of living a happy life? Perhaps they suffer because of an incorrect interpretation of what it means to live a happy life. They seem to believe that happiness is not a matter of the heart, but instead depends on external material conditions. They strongly believe that happiness requires a certain status or social success, and to secure such a happy life, they are taught to believe that they must triumph through fierce competition to secure wealth and status. They believe that they should desperately use all means and methods to achieve such an esteemed life. However, owing to such beliefs, life can spiral downwards. Social pathologies and pain arising from misguided beliefs can only be resolved when one’s viewpoints and attitudes change.

A change in viewpoint and attitude toward life must begin by reflecting on oneself. We should reflect on our wrong belief, and attempt to distance ourselves from it. Distancing ourselves means changing our viewpoint. However, a shift in viewpoint cannot be achieved simply by way of intellectual exploration. Intellectual work, which pursues the knowledge of the objective world, is just an auxiliary means to resolving pain. Beyond this intellectual effort, we should also look at the disposition of our mind, and practice resting the mind. This is the starting point of meditation.

Meditation, in my view, is not about pursuing external objects, but a disciplined way of looking for the lost self. Meditation is an attempt to search for the origin that gives the self his or her identity. The ordinary active mind is formed by our habits and experiences, as well as by our education. In this frame of mind, we can distinguish right from wrong according to our life standards, but can always easily slip into self-centered thought and act according to our own biases. When we do this, discrepancies in opinions arise, causing disputes and contributing to a painful life. Meditation aims primarily to distance ourselves from such an ordinary, habitual mind. It further seeks to eventually find the true self.

Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism all uphold the goal of a perfected human being—represented by a saint, an immortal, or Buddha, respectively—and promise that this is a state human beings can reach through various practical disciplines taught by each tradition. From the viewpoint of all three Asian traditions, the realization of such an ideal human life lies in the search for one’s inner foundation. In all cases, discipline and practice starts with overcoming the self, specifically, with winning the fight against the selfish persona. This paper discusses how this practice appears in the Chinese Daoist classic, the Book of the Way and its Power (Daode Jing), by Laozi.

Meditation in Laozi

Laozi’s Daode Jing does not mention a specific meditation technique. However, there are hints of Laozi’s ideas about how to practice. He instructs: “Close the mouth, shut the doors. Blunt the sharpness, untie the tangles. Soften the light, become one with the dusty world. This is called profound identification.”2 This expression suggests three stages of meditative practice.

The first stage, “close the mouth and shut the doors,” is the pre-meditation stage. Although it mentions only the mouth, the implication is we must close all of our sensory organs. This closes the doors through which qi exits, and via which our life energy is wasted. If we thus sit quietly, we are not distracted by the temptation of external objects.

Laozi’s second stage of mediation is to “blunt the sharpness and untie the tangles.” This is the stage of mental discipline in which we refine the roughness of our mind. In this stage, it is important to forsake unnecessary desires that cause conflicts with others. Laozi also warns against pursuing futile knowledge. If we do so, we can be free from worries; we can empty our mind and remain serene.

In this serene condition, we can see the true nature of all things, which is the third stage. This transformation cannot come simply from philosophical thoughts, but must be achieved through a transcendental consciousness that is beyond the ordinary state of mind. That is the realm where light is softened, and one becomes one with the dusty world. This last stage of the discipline is called xuantong, “becoming one with the mysterious.”

Unfortunately, the Daode jing does not give more detail about specific methods involved in meditation. But, Laozi presents various ideas in the text about the practice and its benefits.

Laying down desires

The path of cultivation laid out by Laozi involves modesty, humbleness, and surrendering. By overcoming problematic situations caused by the bondage of the selfish self, we can heal a confused heart. Laozi sternly warns of the results of endlessly expanding material desires: “There is no greater woe in our lives than not knowing our satisfaction.”3 The more desire we have for wealth, power, and sensuous pleasure, the further we pursue them. People always seem to want to be satisfied, to stay ahead of other people, and to feel happy by pursuing sensuous desires. If we do not step away from the pursuit of these worldly values, we will not be able to attain peace of mind and a sense of balance.

In constrast, Laozi finds the true value of human life in remaining simple: “People around me are very bright, but only I seem to be dull. People around me have a calculating and careful mind, but only I remain in the dark. Quietness seems like a sea, and gusts of wind seem to run wild. People around me are all useful, but only I am uncivilized and outdated. Only I, different from others, see it important to move toward the Way.”4 It seems that, compared with others who seem to be moving at a fast pace in response to changing times, Laozi might look like a fool or outcast. However, unlike people who pursue their immediate interests in daily life, his mind is focused on the Way, which is the origin of things. This state of mind is not to be gained naturally, but must be reached through the practice of meditation.

People with Laozi’s “foolish mind” can deal with everyday situations with a flexible attitude. They will not manipulate people, and will not resort to acting immorally. They will handle work naturally. Laozi expresses such a life attitude as “soft.” He insists, “When human beings are alive, they are soft, but when they are dead, they become firm. As plants grow, they are flexible, but when they are dead, they become hard. Those things that are dead are hard and strong, and those things that are living are soft and weak.”5

Though a person who is like water might be humiliated by a strong person, hardness will always eventually be subjugated by softness. “There is nothing in the world softer than water, but when water accumulates and grows bigger it can penetrate even the hardest material. Everyone knows that something feeble can win against something strong, and something soft can win against something hard, though they do not properly practice this principle.”6

Worldly people continuously consume their lives competing with other people to attain more wealthy and honorable positions. In contrast, Laozi emphasizes that we should stay humble, yield to others, and live in a low position that is not usually favored. He says, “Rivers and seas allow all streams to flow into them because they stay low. Therefore, they can become the king of the streams.”7

Laozi believes that this concept of non-competition can help remove the roots of social injustice, and open the way to accept other people’s position. A person with a water-like mind is able to restrain him or herself from fighting with other people. Laozi says, “Water benefits all things, does not pick a fight, and yet it stays where many people disdain it. It resembles the Dao.… It avoids fighting and thus, it has no transgressions.”8 Likewise, “A saint, although seated above, does not feel like a heavy burden to people, and he, although seated in the front, is not like an obstacle to people. Therefore, all people willingly honor him, but they are not bored with him. He does not fight with other people, and so he has no enemies.”9

Thus, Laozi, through his suggested methods of being flexible, keeping a low profile, and being non-competitive, intends to open the way for each of us to restore our own nature and to allow all things to realize their own nature. Through such efforts, we can aim to step away from being bound by our immediate desires and consumption, instead cultivating a yielding and modest mind that looks for a mutually beneficial situation for everyone.

Overcoming artificiality and affectation

However, while modesty and humility are desirable, our habitual, ordinary mind easily falls into temptation and vanity. We seek to resolve our life problems in a simple way rather than in a right way.

Laozi warns against “artificial doing” (youwei, or renwei), which can also be translated as “affectation.” Laozi says in this regard, “A person, with heels up, cannot stand long; and a person, with legs spread wide, walks clumsily and cannot go far. A person, if claiming his insistence, is not bright; a person, if insisting on being right, is not bright; a person, if showing off himself, loses his meritorious achievements; and a person, if boasting of himself, will not sustain his presence long.”10 A person with heels up, a person walking clumsily, and a person showing off or boasting are people who act unnaturaly. Such acts are all deemed “redundancies from the viewpoint of the Way.”11 Vanity is an unnecessary attitude one carries with them when doing a particular act. Such vanity hampers the course of a normal life, and, in worse cases, it leads to unhealthy situations. Laozi notes the diversity of affectations in our lives driven by vanity, and asks us to escape from them.

The causes of such artificiality can be explained in three ways. The lowest level of artificiality refers to the intemperate pursuit of sensuous desires. The stronger and more diverse the stimuli received from external sources through our sensory organs, the further our consciousness is pressed by and subjected to such external stimuli, and the further disabled the mechanism to look upon ourselves becomes. Laozi says, “Five colors blind people’s eyes, five sounds deafen people’s ears, and five tastes hurt people’s mouths.”12 In other words, stimuli of all kinds dull our sensory organs, making us more and more numb. Obviously, the pursuit of temporary pleasures like these does not lead to true happiness. Furthermore, sometimes, manipulation in the pursuit of pleasures leads us directly to pain.

The second level is psychological or emotional artificiality: feelings of pleasure, anger, or numbness when showing off and employing one’s skills to gain favors from others. The third and last level is manipulation through thoughts,  theories, and ideologies. These three levels—sensuous desires, vanity, and ideological distortions—all lead people to manipulate others and to lose their true nature. Such loss of nature causes them to plunge into non-freedom.

To oppose and negate the manipulations of “artificial doing” (youwei), Laozi presents the concept of “non-doing” (wuwei). For Laozi, non-doing does not simply mean inaction. Non-doing is the positive action of refusing to give rise to the factors that lead to the abovementioned manipulations. The verb wu in wuwei can mean “to negate” or “to remove.” The target of such negation are mental states like dependence, falsehood, manipulation, and externalization. Human beings, if bound in these states, will become unnatural and devoid of freedom. Thus, Laozi asserts that, in order to escape from pain and move towards freedom,  these need to be negated and removed.

Non-doing is thus a training to negate and remove artificiality and affectation from the mind. It can be reached only through the course of strenuous discipline, paying attention to each moment in meditation. Only when this practical meaning of Laozi’s philosophy is properly disclosed, can the healing aspect of discipline be clearly understood.

Cultivation of a serene heart

In Laozi’s text, the goal of meditation is to produce a serene heart, through which we can escape from the bondages of life and pursue ultimate freedom. Stopping our desires and our artificial thinking is not merely to sit idle or stay in a dull state, but has the purpose of making us clearly awake and allowing our life to be guided intuitively.13

This state is described by Laozi as “empty” (xu) and “serene” (jing).14 He emphasizes one must become “wholeheartedly” empty and serene. This means concentrating our heart/mind on one thing.15 If our heart/mind is confused, we cannot achieve anything, and we will be driven by external influences and only be troubled. But, if our heart/mind remains truly empty and serene, our life is undisturbed by the movement of external objects.  “Although all things around me are turbulent, I can return to serenity.”16

Laozi closes with this sentence: “If we do not know steadfastness, we will become irrational and wild.”17 This is what we always experience in our routine lives. If we are continuously agitated by external objects, we experience never-ending suffering. We need to stop this situation. If we stop, we can distance ourselves from such situations, and clearly see ways to return to the origin. Then we can regain our stability and search for a steady way of life. However, most people do not properly understand the way to a steady life, and instead are consumed by external things and become ill because of their sensuous desires.

Pursuing meditation is different from the pursuit of external knowledge. Laozi says, “Acquiring knowledge requires daily accumulation; practicing Dao requires daily reduction.”18 Acquiring knowledge can be thought of today as the main pursuits of the natural sciences, social sciences, and other empirical fields. Knowledge pursued in these arenas are obtained outside oneself. On the other hand, practicing the Dao requires the person to look within. Elevating oneself is possible not by filling but by emptying, not by the external but the internal.

Through this inner awakening, we can obtain a clear and pure mind, and discover our true nature beyond our specific environment. Nonetheless, Laozi’s pursuit of mental freedom through meditation is not to suggest we neglect our daily activities. Daoist philosophy is not simply about staying in the area of theoretical exploration. Laozi writes: “Embracing light with our heart and becoming one with the dusty world,”19 we should endeavor to purify and clarify our mind so we can apply these truths in real life. Daoist philosophical approaches thus are part of a practical system of overcoming pain and healing the heart.

Notes

  1. The Korean sim (Chinese xin)⁠ is an East Asian word connoting both mental and emotional qualities in addition to the physical heart organ. For readability, I have most often used the translation of this term as “heart,” although in certain cases, I have opted for “heart/mind” in order to make clear what I am referring to.
  2. DDJ 56
  3. DDJ 46.
  4. DDJ 20.
  5. DDJ 76.
  6. DDJ 8.
  7. DDJ 66.
  8. DDJ 8.
  9. DDJ 66.
  10. DDL 24.
  11. DDL 24.
  12. DDJ 12.
  13. Kim⁠ 2011.
  14. DDJ 16.
  15. The discipline method of emptying the heart to obtain serenity shown in Xunzi, jiebi, comes from Daoism.
  16. DDJ  16.
  17. DDJ 16.
  18. DDJ 48.
  19. DDJ 56.

References

  • DDJ: Laozi. 2007. Daode jing. Translated into Korean by Lee Gang-su. Seoul: Gil.
  • Kim Jeong-ho. 2011. Mentoring on mind control and meditation. Seoul: Bulkwang.