(NOTES: This post may cover some of the same ground as my earlier post about Philosophical Daoism. Also, when I italicize Zhuangzi or Liezi,
it refers to the book known by this name, while when I do not italicize
Zhuangzi, it refers to the historical person who wrote at
least the first seven chapters of the book that bears his name, and when I do not italicize Liezi it refers to the historical author of the book of the same name.)
The central practice
(or non-practice) of Philosophical Daoism is wuwei, a term which literally means doing nothing. In practice, wuwei, as best as I can describe it, consists of not thinking, not trying, and not being. It is spontaneity in all situations. It is not mere laziness, however. One who lives a life of wuwei still acts in the world, but "does not by his likings and dislikings do any inward harm to his body -
he always pursues his course without effort, and does not try to
increase his store of life" (Zhuangzi Chapter 5, Section 6). However, it is not possible to engage in the
practice (more correctly, the non-practice) of wuwei (at least consistently) without first training the mind to be
calm, collected, and detached from all mental objects. This is where meditation comes into
play.
Philosophical Daoist meditation, at least from what the Zhuangzi indicates, incorporates practices known from South Asian traditions like breath control (in Chapter 6, Zhuangzi writes "[the] breathing [of the sages or true men/true people of old] came deep and silently. The breathing of the true man [true person] comes even from his heels, while men [people] generally breathe only from their throats"); concentration of the mind, withdrawal from attachment to the world, overcoming one's exclusive identity with one's sense of separate self-identity or ego, and transcending the opposing dualities of past and present and life and death (described in Chapter 6, Section 4); and mindfulness or awareness, or simply allowing the mind to reflect whatever arises (described as follows in Chapter 7, Section 6: "When the perfect man [perfect person - men and women can both do this] employs his mind, it is a mirror. It conducts nothing and anticipates nothing; it responds to what is before it, but does not retain it"). This concept of using the mind as a mirror or understanding the mind as a mirror can also be found in certain Buddhist traditions, particularly in the Chan/Zen tradition (it appears in verses from the sixth patriarch Huineng, which are some of the most famous in the history of Zen Buddhism).
Philosophical Daoist meditation, at least from what the Zhuangzi indicates, incorporates practices known from South Asian traditions like breath control (in Chapter 6, Zhuangzi writes "[the] breathing [of the sages or true men/true people of old] came deep and silently. The breathing of the true man [true person] comes even from his heels, while men [people] generally breathe only from their throats"); concentration of the mind, withdrawal from attachment to the world, overcoming one's exclusive identity with one's sense of separate self-identity or ego, and transcending the opposing dualities of past and present and life and death (described in Chapter 6, Section 4); and mindfulness or awareness, or simply allowing the mind to reflect whatever arises (described as follows in Chapter 7, Section 6: "When the perfect man [perfect person - men and women can both do this] employs his mind, it is a mirror. It conducts nothing and anticipates nothing; it responds to what is before it, but does not retain it"). This concept of using the mind as a mirror or understanding the mind as a mirror can also be found in certain Buddhist traditions, particularly in the Chan/Zen tradition (it appears in verses from the sixth patriarch Huineng, which are some of the most famous in the history of Zen Buddhism).
Philosophical Daoist meditation, at least the type described in the Zhuangzi, also features the practice of trying to snap the
mind out of its ordinary modes of cognition through paradox (see this passage from Chapter 2 of the Zhuangzi, for example), turning logic
against itself (much of Chapter 2 is dedicated to this), wondrous anecdotes (such as the opening passage of Chapter 1 and the very famous "Butterfly Dream" at the end of Chapter 2), and profound but unconventional ideas (which are almost,
but not quite, antinomian). In these respects Philosophical Daoism is
similar to Chan or Zen Buddhism and the koans
or paradoxical statements and stories of the latter. This is no
accident, as Philosophical Daoism exerted a major influence on the Chan
tradition when it was developing in China.
Besides these meditation practices and wuwei, Philosophical Daoism encourages people not to seek fame or merit, to not get involved with politics (Zhuangzi taught this during a turbulent time of political turmoil, while Laozi was expressly concerned with politics - one of the main purposes of the latter in the Daodejing was to provide counsel on the best way to rule a country), and to not worry about the conventional moral notions taught by the likes of Confucius and Mozi.
Besides these meditation practices and wuwei, Philosophical Daoism encourages people not to seek fame or merit, to not get involved with politics (Zhuangzi taught this during a turbulent time of political turmoil, while Laozi was expressly concerned with politics - one of the main purposes of the latter in the Daodejing was to provide counsel on the best way to rule a country), and to not worry about the conventional moral notions taught by the likes of Confucius and Mozi.
The Zhuangzi
excels at presenting evocative stories and ideas that question
conventional wisdom and jolt the mind into a state of greater awareness
and lucidity. Daoism takes non-duality to the limit
(meaning it is fully, rather than only partially non-dual), as its non-duality
applies to all facets of existence, and does not even accept conventional or
antinomian ideas as valid in a qualified way.
It is thus the most profound of all traditions, and its sages,
particularly Zhuangzi, are, in my opinion, the wisest people in human history.
There
is
one area in which the Philosophical Daoism is not quite as strong as
other traditions. Overall, the three major texts of the tradition lack a
systematic methodology for realizing the Dao, or the unknown and
unknowable
(through conventional means, anyway) source of all things. The texts (especially the Zhuangzi)
have some passages that describe various helpful practices, like those
mentioned above, but they do not present them systematically. Nonetheless, I think that it is possible to construct a basic methodology based on what the Zhuangzi teaches.
In addition to the teachings mentioned above, Zhuangzi taught that "if a man [or woman] follows the mind given him [or her] and makes it his [or her] teacher, then who can be without a teacher? . . . . [T]o fail to abide by this mind and still insist upon your rights and wrongs . . . is to claim that what doesn't exist exists." (Complete Works of Chuang Tzu, tr. Burton Watson, Chapter 2, pp. 38-39). I interpret this passage as encouraging people to discover wisdom and enlightenment on their own, since it is immediately available in the mind of every person. One can realize the Dao without relying on an external guru or teacher, and in fact, an external guru or teacher is wholly unnecessary. This teaching is at odds with the teachings of Chan/Zen Buddhism, which emphasizes the importance of having a master; Advaita Vedanta, which (apart from Ramana Maharshi, at least, who was technically never initiated into any traditional lineage) emphasizes the importance of having a living guru; the tantric traditions teach that it is dangerous to practice tantric rituals and meditation without the aid of a qualified guru (although the tantric traditions, as well as most other traditions that teach the necessity of having a guru or master, never seem to recognize the dangers of giving individuals as much power over others as gurus and masters ordinarily have over their disciples); and many other traditions as well, including Sufism and the Western esoteric traditions (such as Hermeticism and Freemasonry), as well as the two major organized forms of Daoism, Quanzhen and Tianshi Dao (these are not the only two organized forms of Daoism historically, but they have had the most influence in Chinese history), teach that it is necessary to have a guru or master in order to advance spiritually.
I want to clear something up before moving on. I am a Philosophical Daoist. I consider myself a student of Philosophical Daoism above all other traditions. I am a student of the Zhuangzi above all, but I greatly respect the Daodejing and Liehzi as well. Sometimes, I prefer not to identify myself as a Daoist at all, because in my opinion the organized traditions of Daoism such as Quanzhen and Tianshi Dao have virtually nothing in common with the teachings of these three great texts, and I do not wish to be associated with those organized traditions in any way. I am a student of the Lao-Zhuang (or, as I would call it, the Zhuang-Lao) school of philosophy, whatever one may wish to call it. The distinction between Philosophical Daoism and Organized or Religious Daoism is not the creation of modern Western scholars. The distinction was originally drawn by Han Chinese historians about 2,000 years ago, as Daojia and Daojiao. The former refers to the school of philosophy associated with Laozi, Zhuangzi, and Liezi, while the latter refers to organized traditions like Tianshi Dao. I identify myself with the former, not the latter, and I believe that they should be regarded as separate traditions altogether. Chinese popular religion or "folk religion" is, in turn, different than both Philosophical Daoism and Organized Daoism, as it incorporates at least as many elements from Confucianism, Buddhism, and the indigenous pre-literate traditions of what is now China as it does from Philosophical Daoism and Organized Daoism.
In addition to the teachings mentioned above, Zhuangzi taught that "if a man [or woman] follows the mind given him [or her] and makes it his [or her] teacher, then who can be without a teacher? . . . . [T]o fail to abide by this mind and still insist upon your rights and wrongs . . . is to claim that what doesn't exist exists." (Complete Works of Chuang Tzu, tr. Burton Watson, Chapter 2, pp. 38-39). I interpret this passage as encouraging people to discover wisdom and enlightenment on their own, since it is immediately available in the mind of every person. One can realize the Dao without relying on an external guru or teacher, and in fact, an external guru or teacher is wholly unnecessary. This teaching is at odds with the teachings of Chan/Zen Buddhism, which emphasizes the importance of having a master; Advaita Vedanta, which (apart from Ramana Maharshi, at least, who was technically never initiated into any traditional lineage) emphasizes the importance of having a living guru; the tantric traditions teach that it is dangerous to practice tantric rituals and meditation without the aid of a qualified guru (although the tantric traditions, as well as most other traditions that teach the necessity of having a guru or master, never seem to recognize the dangers of giving individuals as much power over others as gurus and masters ordinarily have over their disciples); and many other traditions as well, including Sufism and the Western esoteric traditions (such as Hermeticism and Freemasonry), as well as the two major organized forms of Daoism, Quanzhen and Tianshi Dao (these are not the only two organized forms of Daoism historically, but they have had the most influence in Chinese history), teach that it is necessary to have a guru or master in order to advance spiritually.
I want to clear something up before moving on. I am a Philosophical Daoist. I consider myself a student of Philosophical Daoism above all other traditions. I am a student of the Zhuangzi above all, but I greatly respect the Daodejing and Liehzi as well. Sometimes, I prefer not to identify myself as a Daoist at all, because in my opinion the organized traditions of Daoism such as Quanzhen and Tianshi Dao have virtually nothing in common with the teachings of these three great texts, and I do not wish to be associated with those organized traditions in any way. I am a student of the Lao-Zhuang (or, as I would call it, the Zhuang-Lao) school of philosophy, whatever one may wish to call it. The distinction between Philosophical Daoism and Organized or Religious Daoism is not the creation of modern Western scholars. The distinction was originally drawn by Han Chinese historians about 2,000 years ago, as Daojia and Daojiao. The former refers to the school of philosophy associated with Laozi, Zhuangzi, and Liezi, while the latter refers to organized traditions like Tianshi Dao. I identify myself with the former, not the latter, and I believe that they should be regarded as separate traditions altogether. Chinese popular religion or "folk religion" is, in turn, different than both Philosophical Daoism and Organized Daoism, as it incorporates at least as many elements from Confucianism, Buddhism, and the indigenous pre-literate traditions of what is now China as it does from Philosophical Daoism and Organized Daoism.
The Quanzhen, or Complete Reality/Truth
school of Daoism, has useful meditative and internal-alchemical techniques, but
unfortunately (from a Philosophical Daoist perspective) this school has embraced much of Buddhist and Confucian morality
(including a large part of the vinaya
or monastic code of the former and most of the social morality of the
latter,
both of which Laozi, Zhuangzi, and Liezi would have rejected), and so is
far less compatible with Philosophical Daoism than many of
the schools of other traditions (such as Chan/Zen Buddhism) (see Livia Kohn, Daoism and Chinese Culture, pp. 160-162, available at the link provided, for details on the Quanzhen school's moral code). This is
so because Philosophical Daoism explicitly rejects moralism like that which Confucianism
and Buddhism (with the exception of Chan/Zen, at least in some cases, and some
forms of Vajrayana Buddhism) proffer as wisdom and truth.
The Tianshi
Dao, or Heavenly Teachers school of Daoism, has elaborate magical
rituals and has historically featured the rigorous observance of moral
precepts (see Kohn, pp. 72-73),
but has almost nothing in common with Philosophical Daoism other than the term Dao and ritual observances involving Laozi and the Daodejing (as far as I can tell). In the Tianshi Dao, Laozi is deified, and so has little in common with the purported author of the Daodejing, who was simply a wise old man, not an immortal being. Furthermore, the use of the term Dao does not automatically create common ground with Laozi, Zhuangzi, or Liezi, as the term Dao
is not even exclusive to
Daoism. (For example, Confucius and Confucians have historically used
the term Dao to refer to the universal moral law
they believe in, and C.S. Lewis used it [and spelled it Tao, based on
the then-prevalent Wade-Giles system of transliteration] for his own
purposes in this sense in his book The Abolition of Man, but most emphatically not in the
Philosophical Daoist sense).
The Dao known to the
Philosophical Daoists, and particularly to the greatest of them, Zhuangzi, is beyond
all dualities, including all value judgments.
It is beyond good and evil, which are relative categories made up by
human beings based on putting too much stock in arbitrary preferences (which
vary from species to species, culture to culture, and person to person – and
thus have no universal validity). One
must transcend the duality between good and evil, as well as the dualities
between truth and falsehood and life and death, in order to realize the Dao.
(Many people will scoff at the idea of going beyond good and evil, and
will question the practicality and wisdom of transcending the
distinction between life and death, but only those who do these things
can ever experience the infinite freedom of the Dao.)
This does not mean that one should embrace antinomian
morality as opposed to conventional morality.
Rather, both types of value systems are based on arbitrary notions of
good and evil that must be transcended in order to gain authentic wisdom and
sagehood. Wisdom and sagehood exist in
potential form in all people, but can only be realized by knowing the Dao,
which is not known by those caught up in duality, whether that duality is
moralistic, metaphysical, epistemological, physical, aesthetic, or any other
variety.
Those caught up in duality
have, at best, a highly limited form of wisdom that applies only to very
limited worldly situations. Their
wisdom, if they can be said to have any, is represented by the quail, cicada,
and dove in the opening passage of the first chapter of the Zhuangzi, as opposed to the limitless
wisdom of the Perfect Man (i.e., Perfect Person) / Sage / Holy Man (i.e., Holy
Person), whose authentic wisdom is represented by the Peng bird, or Roc, in this passage. That passage can be accessed here.
Sometimes Philosophical Daoism, and especially the Zhuangzi,
is considered a foray into relativism or an example of skepticism in
Chinese philosophy. While the three major texts of Philosophical Daoism
can all be read this way (the Daodejing can also be read as Rousseauian romanticism or simple nature mysticism, while the Liezi
is plainly hedonistic in spots), I believe that all three are attempts
to describe the way the world is experienced by those who have become in
tune with the Dao, who have recognized the Dao that cannot be told and
live in total awareness of the Dao at all times. The Dao is ultimately
indescribable, but the Zhuangzi (along with the other two texts
to a lesser degree) successfully describes the way the world is
experienced by those who have realized the Dao. In my opinion, that is
the primary purpose of the text (and the other two mentioned), although
like everything related to the Zhuangzi and the other two major texts of Philosophical Daoism, that is up for debate.
RECOMMENDED READING:
The Complete Works of Chuang Tzu, translated by Burton Watson (the most famous and popular translation of the Zhuangzi into English, and my personal favorite).
A shortened version of the above, Chuang Tzu: Basic Writings, has almost all of the best (or most popular) chapters of the text.
One can find an English translation of the Zhuangzi with Chinese characters at http://ctext.org/zhuangzi.
My favorite English translation of the Daodejing is the translation by Stephen Addiss and Stanley Lombardo. It balances the lyrical nature of the text with a serious scholarly attention to the difficult task of translating ancient Chinese into modern English.
Another famous English translation of the Daodejing is by D.C. Lau.
Stephen Mitchell also has a translation of the Daodejing that many people like. It is less literal (in fact it takes great liberties with the original text in spots), but generally captures the brilliance of the original, and flows better than many other translations.
A.C. Graham's translation of the Liezi is the most well-known English translation of that book.
Finally, Livia Kohn's Daoism and Chinese Culture does a great job situating these texts in the context of Chinese history and Daoist religious, alchemical, magical, divinatory, monastic, and self-cultivation traditions, and provides an informative overview of those traditions.
RECOMMENDED READING:
The Complete Works of Chuang Tzu, translated by Burton Watson (the most famous and popular translation of the Zhuangzi into English, and my personal favorite).
A shortened version of the above, Chuang Tzu: Basic Writings, has almost all of the best (or most popular) chapters of the text.
One can find an English translation of the Zhuangzi with Chinese characters at http://ctext.org/zhuangzi.
My favorite English translation of the Daodejing is the translation by Stephen Addiss and Stanley Lombardo. It balances the lyrical nature of the text with a serious scholarly attention to the difficult task of translating ancient Chinese into modern English.
Another famous English translation of the Daodejing is by D.C. Lau.
Stephen Mitchell also has a translation of the Daodejing that many people like. It is less literal (in fact it takes great liberties with the original text in spots), but generally captures the brilliance of the original, and flows better than many other translations.
A.C. Graham's translation of the Liezi is the most well-known English translation of that book.
Finally, Livia Kohn's Daoism and Chinese Culture does a great job situating these texts in the context of Chinese history and Daoist religious, alchemical, magical, divinatory, monastic, and self-cultivation traditions, and provides an informative overview of those traditions.
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