The Spirit of the Fountain dies not.
It is called the Mysterious Feminine.
The Doorway of the Mysterious Feminine
Is called the Root of Heaven-and-Earth.
Lingering like gossamer, it has only a hint of existence;
And yet when you draw upon it, it is inexhaustible.
The term ‘fountain’ in the first line is usually rendered as ‘Valley’, and this symbol, alongside the reference to the Mysterious Feminine are describing the state of passivity. Unfortunately, this is one of the hardest aspect of the text to understand, and has therefore produced many erroneous beliefs that the Tao Te Ching is quietist, and requires of us only that we stay at home and do nothing. But this is far from the truth.
Activity and passivity are both states of the will; activity is purposeful action, passivity is being acted upon by an external will. So far, so good; our problem is that we only recognise one type of will and that is the individual human will power. Passivity, we therefore imagine, is the state when our will is in abeyance, and we are letting other people call the shots.
The passivity that is discussed here in Chapter 6 will only become comprehensible when we have transcended our sense of the human will and are acting in accordance to the will of the Tao. In this state we are therefore passive to the imperatives to the Tao; it is to the flow of reality itself that we have gladly surrendered the individual aims of our mortal being. In practice, this might indeed mean that we are letting other people take the lead – perhaps they are worthy of their authority. But in the next moment we find that we are the leaders and are actively shaping events and lives according to the inner purpose revealed to us.
The religious figure is never the humble subordinate by nature. Human history has shown us that the most spiritually gifted people are truly shapers of civilisations. And yet the churches and the monasteries seem ever to attract those folk who think a simpering spinelessness will please the Divine and book them a place in heaven. The religious texts do so often seem to suggest this: ‘Blessed are the meek’ said Jesus, and for this we may read the term passive. But Christians have the same problem as the Taoists. Until they learn to become channels of God’s will, and their passivity becomes surrender to the Divine, their scriptures will lead them to get pushed around by their more assertive brethren.
The Doorway of the Mysterious Feminine
Is called the Root of Heaven-and-Earth.
It is that empty place from which we see things alternating between the aspect of time and space (Earth: where things exist independently of us), and timelessness (Heaven: where things are impermanent flashes).
Lingering like gossamer, it has only a hint of existence;
We might say that our evolving view of reality has three phases. The first phase is what we are born into and which the overwhelming majority of people stay in for all their lives. It is the view where we are individuals living in time and space amid other independently existing people and things.
The second phase is when the other side of this perspective is seen. It is the recognition that actually there is only one moment when things can be truly known: Now. Nothing can be said with any certainty about anything that is not here and now. And yet this here-and-now is transforming at such lightning speed that it seems to be nothing more than a series of flashes, each one being annihilated by the next.
The third phase is opened up when we realise that that phases 1 and 2 are actually both perspectives of the same thing. So, strictly speaking, the person in phase 3 understands that that there is, and always has been, just this phase 3 (which he is therefore tempted to start calling phase 1 of 1!)
Spiritual teachers don’t generally need to tell us about phase 1: we know it already. They therefore emphasise the vision of phase 2 because understanding this is the necessary pre-cursor to the spiritual realisation that comes with phase 3. The above line about gossamer is, like many lines in the text, a description of phase 2 impermanence. But this over-emphasis on phase 2, though necessary, is also fraught with danger…
If people simply substitute phase 1 for phase 2, and imagine that the ‘truth’ about reality is that it is empty of any existence, they will have committed a grave error. And it is particularly likely to happen because all their beloved teachers' words seem to suggesting precisely that. The Buddhists call this the ‘emptiness trap’, and the characteristic patient, whose symptom profile is an insufferably vague, drifting kind of flakiness in all practical matters, is a familiar figure in all religions. To realise phase 2 is a true spiritual achievement, but it takes a concerted effort to march on realise the truth: ‘the emptiness of emptiness’. When you are reconciled to time and timelessness and dwell comfortably in both realms you find that your own existence is a deeply felt reality, and…
…when you draw upon it, it is inexhaustible.
The kinds of things that exhaust themselves belong to a world you have left behind. You have something that can never be taken away.
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