The Taoist dowager
Bends gently to that before her
Inclined to bless
Those below
Indivisible
To the high and mighty
Wholly touched
Braille beyond the see
Maid of tender harmonies
Composed
Of one, a chord
The maladies of life joyfully singing
Farming the music of our years
Covered by perfect lines
Of what may be
Momentarily forgotten
Only later recalled
By progeny
And prodigy
And even those
Occupying there posterity
Like some kind of bum
Or a baggy lady
Udderly fool of it
From cradle to grave
Fully pampered
Content
To cede generations
For a moment
For hour
A muse meant
This consummate ode lady
Siren from beyond hear
A thirst only quenched
By water on the rocks
Having strung out
Countless improbable moments
A mist
An impossible life
Beyond contemplation
Not getting bent
On 100% proof
With a taste that smacks of grace
A singular savor
Unpalletable to sum
Treated like a fragrant
Bye others
Having
Perfected that groovy hide
From a rash
Of uncommon sense
Fore hers
Such an inconceivable vehicle
As chary it
Like the wind borne
In quiet the mine
A sentience unabridged
Having awe ready arrived
A slow motion ninja
Only to be
In what will be
Carried away
In eternity
This poem emanated from the title phrase, Taoist dowager, that emerged from one of my many ruminations. As is often the case, a phrase that is too good to pass up grows into a complete poem. I am drawn to Taoist philosophy and Eastern thought in that it seems to quite reliably offer balance to Western modes of thought and being. The dowager metaphor is apropos in that it is typically a feminine sensibility that is the antidote to afford balance to dominant and domineering Western male culture. Plus, wisdom is often rightly associated with increasing age and experience, not the least of which is experiencing and reflecting on the vulnerability inherent in senescence. Buddhists make a practice of meditating on their own inevitable death, not as popular a practice among the young and seemingly invulnerable. Nonetheless, Taoism claims the ever-present and eternal as accessible in the now, a certain holy equality, a pathless path, perpetually wooing us with enlightenment experiences that cannot be grasped but hold the key to living in harmony with reality and all living beings. The folly of every age is to try to reduce such knowledge and wisdom to some type of elixir that can be bought, or more to the point, sold. Even after being taken countless times, the allure of the latest snake oil quite reliably rouses our more base instincts. The basest instinct blocking our experience of the Tao, the Way, is to take, for our self to acquire something from an other.
Clearly, in the Way of things, things come our way. However, being given, to receive something, and taking, claiming something as one’s own private possession, are opposite perspectives. Being given, receiving, is an attitude of gratitude and selflessness. Taking is an attitude of greed and selfishness. Now, Taoism is lauded for its mastery of complimentariness, the understanding that opposites interpenetrate each other and are only conceivable in contrast to one another; e.g., you can’t conceive of light without dark, or tall without short. There is little doubt that a deep appreciation for the complimentary nature of reality is a powerful tool to keep us honest and on track in perceiving and aligning our life with reality. Still, there are clues within each opposite to their relationship to the Whole, the Tao. Its conceivable to me that people could live in perfect harmony, without contradiction, with an attitude of gratitude. It is inconceivable to me that people can live as greedy takers without contradictory and irreconcilable selves. In the mysterious light of the Whole, gratitude is more consonant with reality. Further, taking, claiming something as one’s own private possession, without any claim upon it from elsewhere is simply self-assertion.
There seems to be a consensus among philosophers and theologians of all stripes and perspectives that human beings cannot be the ground of their own being. On one end of the spectrum this was most famously articulated by John Paul Sartre in his book, nay tome, Being and Nothingness, which built the intellectual foundation of modern existentialism. On the other end of the spectrum, most human beings throughout human history have claimed life to be a gift from God (or gods). Sartre and some others are content to contend that human freedom is condemned to naked self-assertions, however well-clothed in rationalizations. God-seeking humans have sought a source of life, a ground for their being, a giver who is also a subject, not a happenstance collection of stardust within a serendipitously profoundly ordered universe. The harshest and most minimalist existentialists settle for an existence where subjects cannot truly meet, or, if taken most strictly, cannot even be confident that other subjects even exist. Such a bizarre assertion is welcomed by God skeptics who cannot fathom a Subject, but the corollary laughable denial of other human subjects’ existence is kept conveniently and shamefully out of public consciousness. Taoists and many philosophers of consciousness posit something akin to a Consciousness that all consciousnesses partake in, a whole in which each part is inescapably in relationship with, even if well-clothed in ignorance and plausible deniability. Christians speak of being made in the image of God. Taoists, perhaps the least literal in their claims, allude to a dynamic Whole that informs our being of the Way.
A beloved metaphor often employed by Taoists is water, with all of its life-giving and unusual properties yet part of daily, seemingly-mundane experience. The one who lives fluidly like water moves easily around that which is hardened. Yet water, given time (an equally mysterious aspect of life), wears down mountains [see patience as the mother of all virtues!]. This poem gives a tip of the hat to this water metaphor with the lines: A thirst only quenched/By water on the rocks. Thirst cannot even be conceived without quenching — unless perhaps you have the brutally masochistic tendencies of an orthodox atheist existentialist who braves permanent and absolute alienation (from even one’s self). The line, Siren from beyond hear, intimates the dangerous half of thirst. The water on the rocks alludes to the sober attention needed to recognize that water and ice (on the rocks) are fundamentally the same stuff, just in a different form. Having strung out/Countless improbable moments/A mist/An impossible life/Beyond contemplation. When faced with conundrums and uncertainties, there is a common tendency to hear beguiling Sirens and throw ourselves against the rocks. Sober minds recognize this as A mist/An impossible life/Beyond contemplation/Not getting bent/On 100% proof. In embodying an attitude of gratitude and selflessness connected to the One, one can quiet the mine/A sentience unabridged/Having awe ready arrived/A slow motion ninja/Only to be/In what will be/Carried away
In eternity. May it be so.
