Beyond Our Senses

“Look, and it can’t be seen. Listen, and it can’t be heard. Reach, and it can’t be grasped.” (Lao Tzu)

What is this? A riddle? Whatever it is, it can’t be seen, heard, or grasped. Is it nothing or is it everything? What if the answer is yes? The Tao Te Ching (Chapter 14) shows us what happens when we encounter something too big for our senses to handle—they don’t work anymore. But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing there. What Lao Tzu is talking about is the Tao. And can we trust something we cannot see, hear, or grasp?

“What has it got in its pocketses?” Remember that? It’s spoken by Gollum in The Hobbit. He’s repeating what Bilbo accidentally said aloud when wondering what he’d got in his pocket (which was, of course, the ring). At the time, the two of them were playing a game of riddles and Gollum got upset because it didn’t sound like a fair riddle. After all, how could he possibly know the answer.

When we read Lao Tzu’s words, we may feel something similar. Something that can’t be seen, or heard, or grasped. What could that possibly be? No, it’s not a fair question. But what if it is? This newsletter looks at what happens when we bump up against the limits of what we can sense. It also asks the follow-on question which is, What does it mean to us and what do we do about it?

Our five senses give us lots of evidence about the world that we think is “out there.” Apparently, it contains thousands of separate things and they all seem real because we can see them, hear them, touch them, taste them, smell them—and, of course, name them and talk about them. On top of that, there’s our mind which likes to make what we call “sense” of it all.

What’s more, our mind can also dream up ideas and concepts, have desires, form opinions, and make judgements about anything and everything; including ourselves and everybody else. That’s a lot to name and talk about. As far as we are concerned, this is as real as it gets.

However, to believe this is to make a big assumption. The assumption is that what we can sense (or dream up or think about) is all there is. While this is certainly the reality we experience, is it the only one? What about a reality which cannot be seen, heard, or grasped?

The reality we experience is also something that comes and goes. In other words, it is temporary; constant only in its change. The Tao Te Ching is clearly describing a different reality when it says: “There was something formless and perfect before the universe was born. It is serene. Empty. Solitary. Unchanging. Infinite. Eternally present. It is the mother of the universe. For lack of a better name, I call it the Tao” (chapter 25).

Whatever this reality is, it does not come or go or change. Nor does it look like anything we can see, hear, touch, taste, or smell. What’s more, being formless, it does not even consist of separate parts that we can name and talk about. All we can do is point at it with words like “for lack of a better name.” At this point we may feel like Gollum.

What is Lao Tzu talking about? Could we have a few more clues please? How about “Above, it isn’t bright. Below, it isn’t dark. Seamless, unnamable, it returns to the realm of nothing. Form that includes all forms, image without an image, subtle, beyond all conception. Approach it and there is no beginning; follow it and there is no end” (chapter 14).

Well, I don’t know about you, but I still feel like Gollum. I’m just not getting it. And, whatever it is, how is it relevant to me? What difference does it make? Here’s an answer. “You can’t know it, but you can be it, at ease in your own life. Just realize where you come from: this is the essence of wisdom” (chapter 14). Aha! Now Lao Tzu has got my attention.

Why? Because “at ease in my own life” is something I’d certainly like to feel a lot more of. In my experience, much of the time the world doesn’t measure up to the way I think it should be. Hmm, “should” is a loaded word. What I mean is it doesn’t measure up to the way I would like it to be. And that causes me stress, frustration, grief, or what the Tao Te Ching politely calls “confusion and sorrow.”

I think Lao Tzu nails it when he says “You can’t know it…” It’s like when he says “Look, and it can’t be seen. Listen, and it can’t be heard. Reach, and it can’t be grasped” (chapter 14). He nails it because “knowing it” is exactly what I’m trying to do—and I’m failing. And none of my other senses are working either. And the reason this matters is because he’s suggesting that this is where my confusion and sorrow are coming from.

Okay, time for solutions. The Tao Te Ching suggests that to dwell in the Tao we need to let go of words and thoughts. In fact, we need to let go of the pursuit of knowledge, which aims to name things and pin them down in a struc­ture we can get our heads around. (Actually, to be fair, the words in the Tao Te Ching never suggest we “need” to do anything. Lao Tzu simply points out what tends to happen when we make certain choices. And pursuing knowledge and trying to make sense of everything is a choice.)

Instead, he suggests we replace the pursuit of knowledge with awareness—nothing more com­plicated than that. When we live in awareness, we live in harmony with the Tao, and we discover that words are not needed. This is what the Master does. “Teaching without words, performing without actions: that is the Master’s way” (chapter 43). So, how does he do it? Here’s the answer. “The Master observes the world but trusts his inner vision” (chapter 12).

What does that mean to us? I think it means we accept the apparent reality that our five senses tell us is there, while at the same time remem­bering that it is no more than an illusion that comes and goes. In other words, we accept the illusion but we do not believe that it is real—and, more important, we do not act as if it is real. We observe it; we don’t trust it.

So, what’s this “inner vision” that the Master trusts? “The Master keeps her mind always at one with the Tao; that is what gives her her radiance” (chapter 21). What she trusts is the Tao. When we do this, we live our lives centered in the Tao, and we experience peace and serenity. It is when we live centered in the illusion, that we join what the Tao Te Ching calls the “turmoil of beings” and experience various forms of “confu­sion and sorrow.”

If this is what happens when we trust our “inner vision,” does it matter whether or not it can be seen, heard, or grasped? No, I don’t think it does. It doesn’t even have to make what we like to call sense. All that matters is trust. At least, that’s the way it seems to me. I think this is why Lao Tzu says “You can’t know it, but you can be it…”

What about you? How easy do you find it to observe what your five senses are telling you, but reserve your trust for the Tao? And, by the way, that’s a straight question—not a riddle.

If you have any thoughts you’d like to share, you can get in touch with me by:

• replying to this e-mail (which will include this newsletter)
• sending me a new email, i.e., without this newsletter

Send new email

• reaching me on Facebook at www.facebook.com/FrancisPringMillAuthor
• using the Contact page on my website www.francispringmill.com/contact

Thanks for reading. Please feel free to share this newsletter.

Francis

IN OTHER NEWS...

Past newsletters are here: www.francispringmill.com/newsletter-archive

In Harmony with the Tao: A Guided Journey into the Tao Te Ching is available here. There Is No Somewhere Else: Insights from the Tao Te Ching is available here.

Synopses and reviews for both books are on www.francispringmill.com/books

If you have enjoyed my books and have a spare couple of minutes, I'd love it if you could leave an Amazon review so more people can discover them. (The customer review link for In Harmony with the Tao is here, and for There Is No Somewhere Else is here.)