Wanderjahr Jill

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Getting Into Trouble with the Daoists by Wanderjahr Jill http://wanderjahrjill.blogspot.com/ After weeks of sitting in a stuffy dark classroom, Tian (our philosophy teacher) promised to take us on a field trip to a Daoist temple. The object of the outing was simply to sip tea and enjoy beautiful scenery while discussing philosophy in the true fashion of the ancient Chinese. We jumped out of our taxi at a busy tourist path along the West Lake and cautiously dodged traffic. We passed through a long, narrow white-washed alleyway and entered a quiet oasis in all of the hustle and bustle of the city. Two stone engravings of dragons guarded the gate to a luscious verdant garden with pagodas hidden throughout the fragrant purple and pink blossoms. This was the closest thing to silence I had encountered for months. I could hardly believe that it was actually in the middle of Hangzhou. We followed Tian up a circuitous stairway of grotesque rock formations. Short poems had been engraved into the stone and trees along the route. The Daoist temple was perched on a hill surrounded by a thick bright yellow wall. Behind the temple was a dense pine forest and below is the most magnificent view of the West Lake that I have yet to see. Temples are known for being located on the most desired properties, and this was no exception. Two rugged gate keepers set down their cigarettes and took our bright yellow tickets as we entered the temple. (I still have not found an explanation to the significance of yellow other than it was the color that emperors liked to wear.) The compound contained many levels of shrines all connected by a couple of dumpy staircases. Each shrine was elaborately decorated fro ceiling to floor with red, gold, yellow, blue and green vibrantly colored sacred objects. Elephants, lions, and dragons were common motifs throughout the carvings and decoration. Daoist principles and philosophies were written in old Chinese characters across the entrances and the columns scrawled backwards or vertically. The inner sanctum housed shrines of the Daoist deities. The deities were mostly old men with long beards, smiling faces, and fat earlobes (a sign of immortality), but there were also a few warrior-types with finely chiseled muscles. The statuary was surrounded by offerings of incense, candles, candy and fruit. As Tian was translating some of the banners, a Caucasian woman with a camera interrupted to ask if she was allowed to take pictures. Tian said yes so I anxiously whipped out my camera and began shooting. I took a couple of photos of nothing really particularly interesting and ran to catch up with the class. About five or ten minutes later a woman stalked after angrily to scold us in accordance of the rules against taking pictures of the deities. She pointed an accusing finger as Julia, who not guilty of the crime, scowled back and claimed her innocence. I sheepishly confessed and apologized. I felt more sorry for Julia, who more times than this has been mistaken for me or vice versa. Yet more than that, I felt annoyed at this woman. Why hadn’t she simply just said something directly to me as I was taking a picture instead of running to tell my teacher on me? She spoke in very good English and had been staring at me the entire time so I did not understand why she had chosen such a backhanded, embarrassing manner to handle the situation. After seeing all of the shrines and experiencing the photo-police woman’s wrath I was posed with a bizarre feeling as if there was a severe incongruence between the doctrines of Daoism in my understanding and the actual religious practice of Daoism. I began to ponder on what Lao Zi would think of all of this. Being in the compound I felt as if in a stuffy Catholic Church. From the Daoist literature I have read it appeared contradictory. In Zhuang Zi’s Daoist classic, he speaks of a meeting between Lao Zi (Lao Dan) and Confucius (Kong Zi). Confucius asks Lao Zi to speak to him of rites and rituals, and benevolence and righteousness. Lao Zi’s reply is cynical on the topic, disclaiming the importance of such practices. He states, “When mosquitoes or horse flies bite or sting your skin, then you wouldn't be able to sleep through the night. When it happens that benevolence and righteousness sting our hearts and then anger arises within us, that fills us with the worst kind of chaos. My dear sir, if you could cause the whole world to retain its simplicity, then you also could move about as freely as the wind while experiencing your own virtue. Why must you set yourself up as some sort of hero by carrying around a big drum and beating on it as though you were searching for a lost child?...The observations of simple names and notable titles isn't something that needs to be shouted about far and wide. When a stream dries up the fish gather together in a crater on the land. They moisten each other with their saliva and splatter each other with foam. It'd be better for them to be swimming freely in rivers and lakes than to be concerned with having to do these things to keep each other alive.”[1] In such literature Lao Zi continually tells of the need to actually break away from what is called a “religion.” I feel that religious aspects of Daoism are all taken too seriously and muddled from Lao Zi’s original meaning. In fact, on the contrary of his simplistic philosophies people have contrived arbitrary complications on his subject matter. First, I did not understand the placement of the deities. If the Way that is the Way is not the Way and the Name that is the Name is not the Name, then what about the deity that is the deity?[2] Is he really a deity? Can there be such a thing? Even if they are looked upon simply as a saint or role-model, this still seems out of place. Daoist doctrines do not preach of one man’s success over another or that of worshipping something outside of oneself. This, according to Daoist doctrines, simply only generates greedy desires, self-consciousness, and judgment. Religion gets caught up in ceremony and ritual and in many ways loses a basic understanding of a doctrine. Daoist texts do not speak of an afterlife such as Heaven or Hell. Yet in the temple alms are taken to bid loved ones farewell after death and rituals are preformed to ensure their good fortune in the netherworld. Philosophical Daoism states an antithesis on the concept of the beyond. It more focuses on living now in this world in one’s own time and place, and not places such an emphasis on an afterworld that may or may not exist. Tian gave an explanation of the Dao as intuitive wisdom and spontaneous actions in harmony with the environment.[3] When I think of Daoist practitioners what usually comes to mind involves old hermits hidden away in the mountains carving poems onto rocks and talking to the birds. In the works of Zhuang Zi and Lao Zi major themes suggest the embracement of life as a riddle, laughing at oneself, and not taking anything incredibly seriously, least your ego runs out of control. So, in my case, what is my own personal Dao? What if my Dao is to photograph religious icons? Was it the lady’s Dao to keep track of the tourists? Where does ones Dao begin and end? Does everyone’s Dao mesh with everyone else Dao? Or are there conflicting Daos like Yin and Yang? In a passage from Zhuang Zi, Chu Chu’ueh-tzu upon encountering the opposing view of Chang Wu-tzu replies, “Suppose you and I had an argument. If you have beaten me instead of my beating you, then are you necessarily right and am I necessarily wrong? If I have beaten you instead of your beating me, then am I necessarily right and are you necessarily wrong? Is one of us right and the other wrong? Are both of us right or are both of us wrong? If you and I don’t know the answer, then other people are bound to be even more in the dark. Whom shall we get to decide?...Right is not right; so is not so. If right were really right, it would differ so clearly from not right that there would be no need for argument…Forget the years; forget distinctions.”[4] How far can this concept and the Way extend into the modern life of rules and regulations, computers and technology, 50 hour work weeks and daily traffic jams? Can the Dao still be practiced under these circumstances? In this section of Daoism Tian has done a little less explaining and lecturing, leaving it more open to us for interpretation. After all, how can you explain that which cannot be explained? I think Daoist philosophy is more about intuition and harmony than concrete knowledge, knowing and understanding. If I think I know than I obviously do not know. It is almost as if you can feel it, but the mind cannot quite comprehend it. Yet all in all, I am still wondering if Lao Zi would have minded my photography. [1] Nina Correa, “Zhuang Zi Chapter 14: The Movement of the Heavens,” 2006, http://www.daoisopen.com/ZZ14.html, 7. [2] This is a modification of the first two lines of Lao Zi’s Dao De Jing. D.C. Lau (London: Penguin Books, 1963), 5. [3] Lecture, March 26, 2007. [4] Burton Watson, Chuang Tzu: Basic Writings (New York: Columbia University Press, 1964), 44.

Getting Into Trouble with the Daoists by Wanderjahr Jill

http://wanderjahrjill.blogspot.com/

After weeks of sitting in a stuffy dark classroom, Tian (our philosophy teacher) promised to take us on a field trip to a Daoist temple. The object of the outing was simply to sip tea and enjoy beautiful scenery while discussing philosophy in the true fashion of the ancient Chinese.

We jumped out of our taxi at a busy tourist path along the West Lake and cautiously dodged traffic. We passed through a long, narrow white-washed alleyway and entered a quiet oasis in all of the hustle and bustle of the city. Two stone engravings of dragons guarded the gate to a luscious verdant garden with pagodas hidden throughout the fragrant purple and pink blossoms. This was the closest thing to silence I had encountered for months. I could hardly believe that it was actually in the middle of Hangzhou.

We followed Tian up a circuitous stairway of grotesque rock formations. Short poems had been engraved into the stone and trees along the route. The Daoist temple was perched on a hill surrounded by a thick bright yellow wall. Behind the temple was a dense pine forest and below is the most magnificent view of the West Lake that I have yet to see. Temples are known for being located on the most desired properties, and this was no exception.

Two rugged gate keepers set down their cigarettes and took our bright yellow tickets as we entered the temple. (I still have not found an explanation to the significance of yellow other than it was the color that emperors liked to wear.) The compound contained many levels of shrines all connected by a couple of dumpy staircases. Each shrine was elaborately decorated fro ceiling to floor with red, gold, yellow, blue and green vibrantly colored sacred objects. Elephants, lions, and dragons were common motifs throughout the carvings and decoration. Daoist principles and philosophies were written in old Chinese characters across the entrances and the columns scrawled backwards or vertically. The inner sanctum housed shrines of the Daoist deities. The deities were mostly old men with long beards, smiling faces, and fat earlobes (a sign of immortality), but there were also a few warrior-types with finely chiseled muscles. The statuary was surrounded by offerings of incense, candles, candy and fruit.

As Tian was translating some of the banners, a Caucasian woman with a camera interrupted to ask if she was allowed to take pictures. Tian said yes so I anxiously whipped out my camera and began shooting. I took a couple of photos of nothing really particularly interesting and ran to catch up with the class.

About five or ten minutes later a woman stalked after angrily to scold us in accordance of the rules against taking pictures of the deities. She pointed an accusing finger as Julia, who not guilty of the crime, scowled back and claimed her innocence. I sheepishly confessed and apologized. I felt more sorry for Julia, who more times than this has been mistaken for me or vice versa. Yet more than that, I felt annoyed at this woman. Why hadn’t she simply just said something directly to me as I was taking a picture instead of running to tell my teacher on me? She spoke in very good English and had been staring at me the entire time so I did not understand why she had chosen such a backhanded, embarrassing manner to handle the situation.

After seeing all of the shrines and experiencing the photo-police woman’s wrath I was posed with a bizarre feeling as if there was a severe incongruence between the doctrines of Daoism in my understanding and the actual religious practice of Daoism. I began to ponder on what Lao Zi would think of all of this. Being in the compound I felt as if in a stuffy Catholic Church. From the Daoist literature I have read it appeared contradictory.

In Zhuang Zi’s Daoist classic, he speaks of a meeting between Lao Zi (Lao Dan) and Confucius (Kong Zi). Confucius asks Lao Zi to speak to him of rites and rituals, and benevolence and righteousness. Lao Zi’s reply is cynical on the topic, disclaiming the importance of such practices. He states,
“When mosquitoes or horse flies bite or sting your skin, then you wouldn't be able to sleep through the night. When it happens that benevolence and righteousness sting our hearts and then anger arises within us, that fills us with the worst kind of chaos. My dear sir, if you could cause the whole world to retain its simplicity, then you also could move about as freely as the wind while experiencing your own virtue. Why must you set yourself up as some sort of hero by carrying around a big drum and beating on it as though you were searching for a lost child?...The observations of simple names and notable titles isn't something that needs to be shouted about far and wide. When a stream dries up the fish gather together in a crater on the land. They moisten each other with their saliva and splatter each other with foam. It'd be better for them to be swimming freely in rivers and lakes than to be concerned with having to do these things to keep each other alive.”[1]
In such literature Lao Zi continually tells of the need to actually break away from what is called a “religion.”

I feel that religious aspects of Daoism are all taken too seriously and muddled from Lao Zi’s original meaning. In fact, on the contrary of his simplistic philosophies people have contrived arbitrary complications on his subject matter.

First, I did not understand the placement of the deities. If the Way that is the Way is not the Way and the Name that is the Name is not the Name, then what about the deity that is the deity?[2] Is he really a deity? Can there be such a thing? Even if they are looked upon simply as a saint or role-model, this still seems out of place. Daoist doctrines do not preach of one man’s success over another or that of worshipping something outside of oneself. This, according to Daoist doctrines, simply only generates greedy desires, self-consciousness, and judgment.

Religion gets caught up in ceremony and ritual and in many ways loses a basic understanding of a doctrine. Daoist texts do not speak of an afterlife such as Heaven or Hell. Yet in the temple alms are taken to bid loved ones farewell after death and rituals are preformed to ensure their good fortune in the netherworld. Philosophical Daoism states an antithesis on the concept of the beyond. It more focuses on living now in this world in one’s own time and place, and not places such an emphasis on an afterworld that may or may not exist.

Tian gave an explanation of the Dao as intuitive wisdom and spontaneous actions in harmony with the environment.[3] When I think of Daoist practitioners what usually comes to mind involves old hermits hidden away in the mountains carving poems onto rocks and talking to the birds. In the works of Zhuang Zi and Lao Zi major themes suggest the embracement of life as a riddle, laughing at oneself, and not taking anything incredibly seriously, least your ego runs out of control.

So, in my case, what is my own personal Dao? What if my Dao is to photograph religious icons? Was it the lady’s Dao to keep track of the tourists? Where does ones Dao begin and end? Does everyone’s Dao mesh with everyone else Dao? Or are there conflicting Daos like Yin and Yang? In a passage from Zhuang Zi, Chu Chu’ueh-tzu upon encountering the opposing view of Chang
Wu-tzu replies,
“Suppose you and I had an argument. If you have beaten me instead of my beating you, then are you necessarily right and am I necessarily wrong? If I have beaten you instead of your beating me, then am I necessarily right and are you necessarily wrong? Is one of us right and the other wrong? Are both of us right or are both of us wrong? If you and I don’t know the answer, then other people are bound to be even more in the dark. Whom shall we get to decide?...Right is not right; so is not so. If right were really right, it would differ so clearly from not right that there would be no need for argument…Forget the years; forget distinctions.”[4]
How far can this concept and the Way extend into the modern life of rules and regulations, computers and technology, 50 hour work weeks and daily traffic jams? Can the Dao still be practiced under these circumstances?

In this section of Daoism Tian has done a little less explaining and lecturing, leaving it more open to us for interpretation. After all, how can you explain that which cannot be explained? I think Daoist philosophy is more about intuition and harmony than concrete knowledge, knowing and understanding. If I think I know than I obviously do not know. It is almost as if you can feel it, but the mind cannot quite comprehend it. Yet all in all, I am still wondering if Lao Zi would have minded my photography.

[1] Nina Correa, “Zhuang Zi Chapter 14: The Movement of the Heavens,” 2006, http://www.daoisopen.com/ZZ14.html, 7.

[2] This is a modification of the first two lines of Lao Zi’s Dao De Jing. D.C. Lau (London: Penguin Books, 1963), 5.
[3] Lecture, March 26, 2007.
[4] Burton Watson, Chuang Tzu: Basic Writings (New York: Columbia University Press, 1964), 44.