In my years of teaching Philosophical Daoism, there is one parable that my students consistently remark on as the most helpful. This came from a collection of writings known as the Huainanzi (18.7) from the 2nd century BCE and paraphrased here: A farmer's horse escapes, and his neighbors come to console him at this misfortune, to which the farmer responds, "We'll see." The horse returns with several wild horses, and the neighbors come to celebrate his good fortune, but again, the farmer says, "We'll see." Then, the farmer's son breaks his leg while trying to tame one of the wild horses; again, the neighbors come to console him at this misfortune, but the farmer maintains his stance and says, “We’ll see.” Later, when conscription officers come to the village to draft young men into the army, the farmer’s son is spared due to his broken leg, an event the neighbors now deem fortunate. Yet again, the farmer says, “We’ll see.” The Daoists illustrate the distinction between an event and the value we judge it to have. The neighbors judge each of these events (the horse’s escape, the horse’s return with more horses, and the son’s leg breaking) one way, and then the judgment is reversed over time. Judging an event as unfortunate leads to negative emotional reactions, and judging an event as fortunate leads to elevated emotional reactions. On the other hand, the farmer maintains a more tranquil emotional equilibrium by not adding a judgment to the event but instead taking it as it is. Next time you get upset about a situation, try telling yourself, “We’ll see,” and then paying attention to how things unfold. You may be upset over something that transforms into something very different from your initial judgment. Shakespeare made a similar observation when he wrote: “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” (Hamlet, Act II, Scene 2)

The Daodejing (Tao Te Ching) uses a colorful phrase for simplicity: uncaved wood (often wrongly translated as uncarved block). Uncarved wood is an interesting metaphor, as wood in its untouched state is unique. No two pieces are exactly the same. We might be tempted to think that a carved block is simpler, as just a basic shape. But carving wood into basic shapes to make them simple is to confuse simplicity with uniformity and conformity. The Daodejing invites us to recognize the uniqueness of wood that has grown in harmonious balance with its environment as simple. The effort to impose a uniformity, to enforce a conformity, to generalize and abstract — this is in fact the complexity. Join the Kinship Cafe discussion this week as we explore uncut wood and simplicity in chapter 28 of the Daodejing (Tao Te Ching). Find the link in the calendar.

Just came across this quote from the introduction to the Tractatus that I think would apply perfectly to the Daodejing.

Do you remember when people could have disagreements but still get along? Why is everyone so quick to draw a line in the sand, to blame others, and keep score? Is our world any better for doing so? Does anybody learn or grow in an environment like that? Is there another way? Join the Kinship Cafe discussion this week to explore these questions and an alternative approach that is found in chapter 27 of the Daodejing (Tao Te Ching).