Finding Oneness

When the relevance of numbers disappears, that’s oneness.  

I thought of this while walking a path bathed in yellow pine needles. With the word “bathed”, I’m trying to express the expanse of the needles. Pressed under my feet, stretching behind me and ahead. Blanketing the woods to either side. Surrounding me in every direction, even beyond my view.  

I think of the process of counting each one. I try to glimpse meaning beyond the absurdity of the task. Absurd because how long would it take to even count the number in ten square feet, never mind the huge expanse in Great Pond State Forest

When the relevance of numbers disappears, that’s oneness.  

My idea is attempting to express the woven unity of this carpet of needles. A vast, interlinked skein. Yes, made of individual shafts, but the repetition speaks to me a giant tan fabric. Is not fabric made of many threads connected? Many elements woven together to make one. 

Envisioning this helps me better understand the Taoist concept of merging the truth of individuality within the connection of totality. Losing numbers in this small world of pine needles connects me to the immense unity that I am a part of and apart from. 

The Activation of Zen

My favorite Zen story starts with a Master walking down a road, carrying a sack on his back. A local wise man recognizes that this is a Zen Master and hurries out to greet him. The Master politely responds, but he keeps walking.  

Understanding that he only has a moment, the wise man says, “Please, Master, I must ask you a question. What is the realization of Zen?” 

At this, the Master stops, takes the bag off his shoulder, and sets in on the ground.  

Understanding this was his answer, the wise man boldly asked another question: “Then what is the activation of Zen?” 

The Master bends, picks up the bag, settles it on his shoulder, and walks on.  


To me, this story teaches about two powerful acts: 

  1. Setting Down the Bag 

I see the Master’s bag as a symbol of what we carry in life. Love and friendships, family and work. Being a person and interacting with people. Burdens and responsibilities.  

By putting it down, the Master relieves himself of the weight of his existence, the load of living a human life. With all of this off his shoulders, he can take a break. He can remember that there is rest from toiling, there is healing for pain, and that love is the balm of attachment.  

In this moment, a regular person could realize that some of the items in the bag are not really that heavy. Letting it down gives space to realize that some weight has been added, perhaps by excess worry or negative thinking.  

I’d like to think that this is a moment when things can be removed from the bag. Old thought patterns, neediness and jealousy, greed and disappointment. Even crusty dreams might finally get their rest on the side of the road.  

  1. Picking Up the Bag 

The Master activates Zen by picking the bag back up. I think this represents the total acknowledgment of living and acceptance of the conditions that we live in.  

Picking up the bag demonstrates that he is choosing the responsibilities and relationships he has. It shows that he wants to carry this weight, that he accepts what he chooses to carry. 

Indeed, the Master and the sack are one thing, even if it can be put down.  


If you’d like to read more of my philosophy, check out Tao of Thoreau.

Letting Go

One of my favorite quotes from Tao te Ching is “Do your work and then let go, the only path to serenity.” I believe in this idea from my practical experience, and I’m definitely happier when I apply it to my job.

This school year, I have a particularly challenging class, mostly due to discipline problems. I found myself perseverating about this group. I realized I was stressing, and it wasn’t helping the situation at all. Losing sleep is not the path to serenity.

I had to change my mindset. What is “doing my work” in this case? It is of course attempting to get the class on track. Some time outside of the class is necessary to think and strategize what to do. That is all part of the job, so it is my work.

I had to let go of the stress and the stop the sleeplessness. I did this by determining my plan to adjust their behavior, and being intentional and clear about what I needed from them. Once I began doing this, I was able to let go of grinding the thoughts about this class, and just focus on my job when I am doing it.

Not surprisingly, not only have I started letting go, but the class has started getting better. Bottom line, listen to the Tao!

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Tao Lesson #3

I’ve been thinking about these ideas a lot recently:

Prevent trouble before it arises.
Put things in order before they exist.
The giant pine tree 
grows from a tiny sprout.
The journey of a thousand miles 
starts from beneath your feet. 

I tend to get a good idea, and rush into action with it. Although I get a lot accomplished, not having a clear plan can be a problem. When I hit a roadblock, it can take away my momentum, stalling the project.

If instead I had taken the time for a little planning, I may have anticipated the problems that could arise.

The second half is a tough lesson for me. Maybe I feel like I’m too far down the road of my journey to revert to having origin thoughts. I’m trying to see how this lesson applies to any new venture we embark on, even if it is an offshoot of something we have already been doing.

Looking at projects and problems as if they just began, or are constantly beginning. Original mind. I think this is something to try for, though I am not quite sure how to go about it.

Tao Lesson #3

I’m going to do just one line today. This particular quote really resonates with me because there are so many examples of it in my life:

“He who tries to shine dims his own light”

I lived this quote before I ever read it. When I went to college, it was a time of freedom and evolution. I was sheltered and unpopular in high school, so when things started to go my way in college, it went to my head. I would become arrogant at times, until I noticed how much this turned off those around me.

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Tao Lesson 2

I find this passage to be a very challenging one. Not in a sense of understanding it: the message is clearly stated. The challenge is in the ideas, and trying to activate them in my life. 

The Master stays behind; 

That is why she is ahead. 

She is detached from all things; 

That is why she is one with them. 

Because she has let go of herself, 

She is perfectly fulfilled. 

Tao te Ching often uses contradictory statements to expose the truth. The message is revealed by pondering the way that seemingly opposite ideas work together.  

One way to look at the idea of staying behind is to think about work. The Master is not rushing to achieve and when she does, she does seek approval for these achievements. Accomplishing the task is the goal. Simply do the thing that needs to be done and move on. Then the idea of being ahead is clearer because it is not about racing from task to task, but about effort and completion of the task in the moment. 

It seems impossible to be detached and still connected.  But what if detachment doesn’t mean ignoring or pushing things away? Instead, it is not asking more than can be given naturally. Let’s use personal relationships as an example. Being detached means allowing a person to be themselves. By trusting like this, the Sage shows she understands a person’s true nature. How can you be more connected than that? 

Letting go is tough for me. I cannot let go of myself: I am still the stage of many plays, and I crave an audience for my performance. Fulfillment is impossible when you need it from others. 

I am trying to learn this lesson. And I think I know how to apply it. I feel a different way calling me, but it means letting go to reach it.  

The quote is taken from the wonderful Stephen Mitchell translation of Tao the Ching.

If you are interested in Taoism, you might enjoy my book Tao of Thoreau.

Tao Lesson #1

I thought I’d share some of my favorite passages from Tao Te Ching and add a commentary about why they are important to me.

Here’s the first:

The Tao is like a well:
Used but never used up.
It is like the eternal void:
Filled with infinite possibilities.

This passage always leads me to two places: energy and creativity.

Whenever I am low on energy, I remember this lesson. All the energy, power or inspiration I need is already there, inside me. The question is: will I tap into this energy, or let the drowsy feelings of being tapped out decide for me?

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Beauty of death and decay

Yesterday, I wrote about how a carpet of yellow pine needles helped me understand the idea of the individual within a greater unity.  

I kept wanting to write about the decay aspect of the pine needles. After all, they are coating the ground because they have fallen. Though they were once growing, attached to twig branch and bole, now they lay where they fell. 

I didn’t write about it because it led me to a different concept. We all are familiar with the circle of life, and we know that death and decay are part of it. But I like examples, they make me think of the deeper parts of a general idea. 

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The end of numbers

When the relevance of numbers disappears, that’s oneness.  

I thought of this while walking a path bathed in yellow pine needles. With the word “bathed”, I’m trying to express the expanse of the needles. Pressed under my feet, stretching behind me and ahead. Blanketing the woods to either side. Stretching in every direction beyond my view.  

I think of the process of counting each one. I try to glimpse meaning beyond the absurdity of the task. Absurd because how long would it take to even count the number in ten square feet, never mind the huge expanse in Great Pond State Forest?

When the relevance of numbers disappears, that’s oneness.  

The idea is attempting to express the woven unity of this carpet of needles. A vast, interlinked skein. Yes, made of individual shafts, but the repetition speaks to me a giant tan fabric. Is not fabric made of many connected threads? 

Envisioning this helps me better understand the Taoist concept of merging the truth of individuality within the connection of totality. Losing numbers in this small world of pine needles, that are losing their color and returning to the earth, connects me to the immense unity that I am apart from and a part of. 

I wrote yesterday about the review I received about my book Tao of Thoreau. Here’s a little more from the review:

Voice and Writing Style: The author’s writing here is good, succinct, and sets forward his premise clearly, without fuss. He has produced a simple little volume in good form.  

I like this one because it reflects exactly what I was going for – succinct, clear and readable. I actually take it as a complement that the reviewer uses the word “simple”. A lot of my effort was taking deep and complicated ideas and presenting them in a readable format that is accessible to anyone.  And Thoreau did encourage us to simplify.

The Tao Te Ching was an excellent model. It’s a remarkable book, with transcendent ideas presented simply. Yet, upon reflection, the ideas are incredibly deep, universal and comprehensive. If my book reflects even a small part of this aspect, I was successful.