Yesterday the world seemed to be askew, tilted on its axis by all the troubling news from every corner. As the day wore on and my thoughts became more and more agitated I knew I had to go within for answers. These answers always come from a quiet place, from that still, small voice. I just have to remember to be still and listen.
This morning a book popped into my thought shortly after waking. I hadn't opened this book for a few months, but I felt certain I would find something to hang on to, something that would help me move into healthier thinking. I went to my bookshelves to retrieve it and then opened it to what feels like the perfect admonition to myself:
Why scurry about looking for the truth?
It vibrates in everything and every no-thing, right off
the tip of your nose,
Can you be still and see it in the mountains? the pine
Don't imagine that you'll discover it by accumulating
Knowledge creates doubt, and doubt makes you
ravenous for more knowledge.
You can't get full eating this way.
The wise person dines on something more subtle:
He eats the understanding that the named was born
from the unnamed, that all being flows from non-
being, that the describable world emanates from an
He finds this subtle truth inside his own self, and
becomes completely content.
So who can be still and watch the chess game of the
The foolish are always making impulsive moves, but
the wise know that victory and defeat are decided by
something more subtle.
They see that something perfect exists before any move
This subtle perfection deteriorates when artificial
actions are taken, so be content not to disturb the
Discover the harmony in your own being.
If you can do this, you will gain everything, and the
world will become healthy again.
If you can't, you will be lost in the shadows forever.
From Hua Hu Ching: The Unknown teachings of Lao Tzu, translation by Brian Walker.
Painting: "House on a Hill," by Winslow Homer