Silence Speaks

“Those who know don’t talk. Those who talk don’t know.” (Lao Tzu)

Sounds witty, doesn’t it? This is the Tao Te Ching (Chapter 56). Interesting how know-it-alls tend to be talkative. After all, how else can they impress you with their knowledge? Well, to be fair, talkative people may not always be trying to impress you. But if you know enough to know you know hardly anything, then there’s hardly anything to say. And when you realize that ultimately you know nothing, then there is nothing to talk about. The reason those who know don’t talk is because they know that they don’t know.

Our human lives involve a lot of talking. I’m sure humans have been talking ever since we figured out how to do it. And we talk most about what we know or what we want to know. And, make no mistake, this is often very useful.

In our caveman days, I’m sure it was useful to be told “There’s a saber-toothed tiger behind you” or “There’s food in the next valley” assuming, of course, that such talk was true. (The words themselves are not important; all that matters is hearing sounds that convey the intended meaning.) But what’s Lao Tzu getting at when he says those who know don’t talk, and those who talk don’t know? This newsletter explores an answer.

In a nutshell, I think he’s referring to things which are matters of perspective, opinion, and judgment rather than matters of fact. And why should such things not be talked about? Okay, time to slow down. A lot.

For a start, I just used the word “should.” If there’s one thing that Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching does not do, it is to tell us what we should or should not do. All Lao Tzu ever does, as I see it, is make observations. And they are neutral. He doesn't say his observations are good or bad or right or wrong or that we should or should not to do anything with them. He simply makes his observations and then lets us do with them whatever we like—including ignoring or forgetting them.

Case in point. Saying that those who know don’t talk is not the same as saying we “should” not talk. Similarly, saying those who talk don’t know is not the same as saying we “should” not listen. He doesn’t say “should.” He doesn’t imply it. He doesn’t even suggest it. He just makes his observation and lets go. (If we choose to read more into it, or jump to conclusions, then he can’t really help that, can he?)

So if we resist the urge to jump to conclusions, then what’s there for us? Why does Lao Tzu make his observation? What’s the message? Here’s my shot at an answer. I think he says it to help us do what I just failed to do. And that is to slow down. A lot. Let’s say more about that.

It seems to me that much of our lives is spent in a hurry to get somewhere. Where? Well obviously, somewhere we’re not—at least, not yet. What’s more, we typically act as if the sooner we get there the better. And for that we need knowledge, or know-how, so that’s what we talk about.

However, suppose we happen to be talking to someone who knows (by whatever means) that there is actually nowhere we need to get to, that we already are exactly where we need to be, as it were. It would be like wanting the know-how to get from here to there when, in reality, there is no “there.” In this case, the person who “knows” this would have nothing to say, would they? They would be one of the people who know but don’t talk.

So, we’d likely ask our question another way. We’d explain why we need to know. We’d want to know what other people have already found out so that we can learn from it, or comment on it, or judge it as right or wrong, or have an opinion about it. We’d be doing a lot of talking. We’d be one of the people who talk but don’t know.

Is there anything wrong with this? No, of course not. It’s just humans being human. It’s what we do. But in doing it we often cause a lot of what the Tao Te Ching refers to as “confusion and sorrow.”

What if much of this confusion is caused by how we see ourselves as separate from everything else? Or by how we think the present moment is no more than a stepping stone to a future which we think will be somehow better? Or by how we think everything “out there” is simply raw material to be fashioned into whatever we believe will satisfy our desires?

Lao Tzu offers another approach. “The Master sees things as they are, without trying to control them. She lets them go their own way, and resides at the center of the circle” (chapter 29). If we talked to the Master about our questions, what would she have to say? The answer is nothing. After all, if you see things as they are, and let them go their own way without believing you need to control them, then what is there to talk about?

So what does the Master do all day? Well, for start he is in no hurry to get somewhere else. “Therefore the Master takes action by letting things take their course. He remains as calm at the end as at the beginning. He has nothing, thus has nothing to lose. What he desires is non-desire; what he learns is to unlearn. He simply reminds people of who they have always been. He cares about nothing but the Tao. Thus he can care for all things” (chapter 64).

When you reside at the center of the circle, and care abut nothing but the Tao, then what’s the hurry? Where are you trying to get to? What is there to talk about? The Master leads by example, not by talking about it. This is how he or she cares for all things. “The Master, by residing in the Tao, sets an example for all beings” (chapter 22).

An example that’s true for me is when I don’t see things as they are. Instead, I see them in terms of what I want them to be. I can even become quite articulate in describing the gap between the present moment and the way I want things to be in the future. Words like “should” come readily out of my mouth as I talk about what “needs to be done” for things to be “better.” Yes, I’m doing a lot of talking.

Lao Tzu’s words remind me to slow down, to consider “letting things take their course,” and to ask myself where I’m coming from. Am I residing at “the center of the circle” or am I seeing myself as separate, residing somewhere on the edge, and trying to rearrange the world around me? The answers to these questions don’t come in words that can be talked about. So if I’m still doing the talking, it’s likely I still don’t know this.

How about you? Do Lao Tzu’s words resonate with you? Do his observations about how the Master approaches living suggest ways in which you could perhaps reduce the “confusion and sorrow”? On the other hand, if you’re patiently listening to me and smiling, perhaps you’re one of those who know but don’t talk. And that’s fine too. Thanks for listening.

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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.

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