The Place Of Death

In The Tao Te Ching, Chapter 50, there’s a line about people who’ve attained the Tao that translates as “they have no place of death to enter,” “they have no place of death in them” or “for them there is no place in the land of death.” I’d not thought much about this chapter or this line until recently until a mix of meditation and stressful events gave me a new understanding.

In analyzing my own fears and concerns, I saw how they would obsess me. I’d worry about things, and thus my fears, from death to petty things, were actually part of me. I’d carry my concerns with me constantly, and as you doubtlessly know that was a heavy burden.

But being isolated, worrying, etc. just cuts me off from myself. It keeps me from engaging with life – with the Tao. It keeps me from being truly alive, freezing me in place. Honestly we all know too well how fears and worries can lock us down and even lead to bad outcomes – sometimes the very ones we feared.

There in my head, is the Place of Death.

Life, I realized, is a dialogue. You’re constantly reacting and interacting with places, people, ideas, food, etc. You make judgements and evaluations, changing or maintaining your course. Being alive, really alive, really there in the Tao, is a conversation.

And you can’t really have a dialogue when you’re hiding away. Life has to be lived, engaged. You can’t freeze yourself in your head or loop with scenarios to “protect” yourself.

Before I had talked about what I call “The Escape Capsule” in psychology and psychoanatomy. We build a walled off part of ourselves, shoving our supposed “self” into a box inside of us to protect it. This produces tension, warps our concept of ourselves, creates physical discomfort, and is quite miserable.

The “Escape Capsule” and “The Place of Death” are close to or are the exact same thing. Trying to get away from a changing world means you carry the changes you fear with you.

Life is a dialogue, really embracing yourself and the universe means you’re engaging. You can’t hide away in that case, you have to be open and vulnerable – because that’s how you have the dialogue with the world. The attempts to escape just lead you to build a mausoleum in your head.

It might be hard, but we can’t run away or stew in our fears. Why have a place for Death in us? Death has its own place in the world. We might as well find our place as well.

-Xenofact

A Different Kind of A-Hole

As regular readers know, I consider myself a Taoist, and am using reading some Taoist literature or other philosophical or artistic writing. Often I find myself fascinated at how much brilliant wisdom people had thousands of years ago – and how often they tried to get someone to listen to them.

Today, I try to imagine exposing certain people to the wisdom of, say, the Taoists. Would they pay attention to warnings about being overburdened with desires? Could advice on not wrecking the environment from fifteen hundred years ago still reach someone wrecking the environment now? Could people maybe not screw everything up for everyone?

I mean how many Business A-holes got The Art of War and tossed it as it wasn’t what they expected There’s a reason I see many copies at used book stores. So I kind of am of the opinion “lots of so-called leaders would ignore good advice.”

So as I contemplated the plight of the political Taoists and their like, something struck me. I was thinking about people who lived thousands of years before me, in vastly different environments. As I’ve written before, such people lived in different worlds, and they dealt with a different kind of A-hole.

I thought about the political Taoists and others like the Confucians attempting to convince some feudal lord of the rightness of their teachings (and the personal benefits). Such a person might be royalty, but because their father or grandfather overthrew the last guy. They still have relatives who may be in the fields or the military or in the mercantile professions. This imaginary feudal lord may hear, see, and smell everyday life in their province – which might be as small as the real-estate of a small city. Droughts, harvests, weather, floods affect them as well as the people under them and they get to fear assassination or conquest.

Oh they may be a-holes. They may be violent, they may not be nice, they may have a strong hand in rulership. But they exist as human a-holes, they have human contact, human feelings. As abstract as royalty may be, there’s a chance they’re still as human as others, even if not nice humans.

There’s a chance such people might listen to your ideas, after all even if they’re a-holes.

Now today, how many leaders exist in bubbles that feudal lords of China and ancient kings could ever imagine? How many people with power exists inside a media echo-sphere worse than any group of sycophantic ministers? We have leaders and supposed rulers who never worry of hunger or pollution, who can’t see, hear, or smell the everyday lives of people.

Such folks seem much harder to convince because they’re not just abstract from people but abstract from humanity. There’s a point where insulation becomes inhumanity or at least mental illness. No wonder some supposed elites suck down psychedelics trying to feel something.

This does not decrease my enthusiasm for the wisdom of the Taoists and those like them. It’s just a reminder that much advice requires you to reach someone’s humanity.

The problem is you have to know how to find that humanity first, and that can be a challenge. Worse, it may not be there.

– Xenofact

Confucians and Conspiracy Theorists

When I first encountered Taoism, I became aware of their conflicts with Confucians. Later when I took a deeper interest, this “awareness” turned into “wow for a while they really mocked the crap out of them.” Later still, I realized this mockery of Confucians really helped me better understand Conspiracy Theorists.

Strap in for this one.

The history of Confucianism, and the period it was in conflict with Taoists, is complicated, but a few trends stood out in my studies. Political philosophy Taoism (embodied in the Tao Te Ching) were more about psychology, frugality, not seeking complexity, and leaving people the heck alone. Confucianism was seen as ritualistic, rote, and about memorization of trivial bits and bobs of culture. The conflict was simple – “real life” and pointless trivialities.

But something began to tickle at the back of the mind in my recent readings and re-readings. The Taoist documents that mocked Confucians mocked them for pretention, ritualism, trivialities, and over-complicated ideas. Even later Taoist/Taoist inspired documents that felt they had commonalities with other philosophies warned against such things. Be it mocking the Confucians or warning against pointless ritualism, something seemed familiar.

Then it struck me. The Confucians that Taoists mocked – and the people that later Taoists critiqued – reminded me of conspiracy theorists.

Conspiracy theorists have huge, complex beliefs they spin into webs, ensaring them – and if possible, others. Conspiracy theorists are often repetitive – in ritual ways – reinforcing their conspiracies (which often need it). Finally Conspiracy theorists are often deep in trivialities, to the point it’s hard to understand what the hell they’re talking about – the cultic conspiracy elements that wall people off others.

Plus, Conspiracy theorists often seem very brittle and ready to use force to control you, something Taoists also mocked in general and specific.

Suddenly I got the earlier Taoist mockery. I’ve watched puffed-up Conspiracy theorists, confidently spewing nonsense, spinning elaborate incoherence, and arguing they get to decide right and wrong, life and death. Be it some earlier Confucian wonk or the latest maniac analyzed by the near-endless podcasts on Conspiracy theorists, they’re the same.

Thus, I get why some people 3000 years ago said “look at those pretentious motherfuckers.”

Now that I have this unusual insight, maybe there’s really some kind of human archetype at work here. The obsessive, trivia-infused, control freak who builds elaborate plans to make the world work – or explain how it works. A warning sign throughout the ages.

And of course, a useful insight on how some things never change, and maybe we need to be ready to warn against the same problem again and again – or just take a page from the Taoists and mock the hell out of it.

-Xenofact