"Unhindered Minds" - Beyond Questions/Answers Sunrise/Afternoon July 8, 2015

This is  #18 (Tao #56) in a Series of Posts that share Synchronistically-Timely chapters from
Stephen Mitchell's Auspicious book
The Second Book of The Tao

(You can see all photos from today's amazing afternoon beach on this link:
http://dorotheamills.weebly.com/harbour-island-slideshows/unhindred-minds-afternoon-july-8-2015)

∞
PEACE THAT PRECEDES JOY
OR
JOY THAT PRECEDES PEACE?

A MENTAL DISTRACTION!

ALL
(INCLUDING MENTAL DISTRACTIONS)
IS EMERGED IN/FROM/AS
OTG
“OLDER THAN GOD”
ORIGINAL CORE
ew
4:15 AM - 7/8/15
∞

#56

The ancient Masters looked ordinary,
but their wisdom was profound.

They didn’t deviate from the truth.
The clever couldn’t persuade them,
the beautiful couldn’t seduce them,
the rich couldn’t corrupt them.

They considered life and death
to be insignificant matters.

Unhindered, their minds could soar
to the edges of the unknown,
beyond time and space, and plunge
past the beginning and the end.

They could take the most menial positions
and find contentment in their work.

Their virtue filled earth and heaven.
The more they gave to themselves,
the more they could give to others.

The more they gave to others,
the more they had for themselves.

The Second Book of The Tao
Compiled and adapted
 from the
Chuang-tze and the Chung Yung,
with commentaries
by
Stephen Mitchell

COMMENTARY

You never knew when you’d bump into one of them.
  You might be in a public toilet and there he was,
scrubbing the floor,
humming to himself with a little smile.

  Or you’d be buying a piece of salmon at the market,
and the fat old woman behind the counter
would ask an ungraspable question
that would resonate inside you for days.

Or you’d sit down next to a beggar on the street,
one of the lost apparently,
his wrinkles caked with grime,
and when he looked into your eyes,
you’d feel penetrated to the core.

 The ancient Masters had no word for compassion. 
They wouldn’t have understood it,
because they didn’t harbor concepts of “self” and “other.”

The more they gave to others,
the more they had for themselves.

The Second Book of The Tao
Compiled and adapted
 from the
Chuang-tze and the Chung Yung,
with commentaries
by
Stephen Mitchell

#56

The ancient Masters looked ordinary,
but their wisdom was profound.

They didn’t deviate from the truth.
The clever couldn’t persuade them,
the beautiful couldn’t seduce them,
the rich couldn’t corrupt them.

They considered life and death
to be insignificant matters.

Unhindered, their minds could soar
to the edges of the unknown,
beyond time and space, and plunge
past the beginning and the end.

They could take the most menial positions
and find contentment in their work.

Their virtue filled earth and heaven.
The more they gave to themselves,
the more they could give to others.

The more they gave to others,
the more they had for themselves.

The Second Book of The Tao
Compiled and adapted
 from the
Chuang-tze and the Chung Yung,
with commentaries
by
Stephen Mitchell

COMMENTARY

You never knew when you’d bump into one of them.
  You might be in a public toilet and there he was,
scrubbing the floor,
humming to himself with a little smile.

  Or you’d be buying a piece of salmon at the market,
and the fat old woman behind the counter
would ask an ungraspable question
that would resonate inside you for days. 

Or you’d sit down next to a beggar on the street,
one of the lost apparently,
his wrinkles caked with grime,
and when he looked into your eyes,
you’d feel penetrated to the core.

The ancient Masters had no word for compassion. 
They wouldn’t have understood it,
because they didn’t harbor concepts of “self” and “other.” 

Generosity, for them, was like breathing.
  When they gave, it was for no reason, to no one. 
They didn’t expect a grateful response, or any response at all. 
It was always themselves they were giving to.

The Second Book of The Tao
Compiled and adapted
 from the
Chuang-tze and the Chung Yung,
with commentaries
by
Stephen Mitchell