celebrating mystery

Look at it: nothing to see.
Call it colorless.
Listen to it: nothing to hear.
Call it soundless.
Reach for it: nothing to hold.
Call it intangible.

Triply undifferentiated,
it merges into oneness,
not bright above,
not dark below.

Never, oh! never
can it be named.
It reverts, it returns
to unbeing.
Call it the form of the unformed,
the image of no image.

Call it unthinkable thought.
Face it: no face.
Follow it: no end.

Holding fast to the Way,
we can live in the present.
Mindful of the ancient beginnings,
we hold the thread of the Tao.

Lao Tzu
Ursula K Le Guin’s version

How does one define the Tao?

I suppose this is it. I have shockingly little to say about this poem, except that it’s an important one. It’s full of the paradoxes and contradictions inherent to the Tao, to humanity. Within there, it encompasses so much.

And I think your affinity to the Tao will be found in the emotional resonance of this poem. If it makes you feel nothing, it’s not because you’re wrong or missing out, or because the Tao is inconsequential.

It may just be that this way of thinking, of living isn’t for you. If you find nothing here, it may be because there’s nothing for you to find.

But if you find something here. If this resonates with you. If you feel the poem physically, emotionally, than you may be coming home. Home to a way of thinking and living that you never knew existed.

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