New
On The Tao of Pooh and Being Busy
A blog post | 9/12/2024
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"A man hated seeing his footprints behind him and his shadow. He thought he could outrun them, so he ran fast. But the footprints and shadow were still there. He reasoned he wasn’t running fast enough and increased his speed. He kept running faster and faster until he finally collapsed from exhaustion and died. If he’d simply stopped moving, there would have been no footprints. If he’d stopped in the shade, there would have been no shadow."
This is a story from the writings of Chuang-tse, which I recently discovered while reading the Benjamin Hoff book The Tao of Pooh. This book was recommended to me at a point in my life (now) when I've been taking careful inventory of my mental health, my life, goals, and what truly makes me happy. This is a common exercise of thought, I believe. I doubt any one of us hasn't sat down to think about those things at one point or another. But recently I've found myself sitting at what seems to be the most important crossroads of my short life. But Devin, you say, this crossroads is somehow more important than choosing whether or not to go to college? Choosing your major? Going on a mission? To marry Gaby? To have kids? And I would pause and reflect for a moment before answering, yes! More important than all of those things. Not that this thing is more important than any of those things, but the act of sitting at this crossroads has put me in a place I never would have pictured myself—and has weighed on me more heavily than all of the previous things listed because, I knew, of course, that they were right for me. There was no question. Of course I wanted to marry Gaby. Of course I wanted children. Of course I would graduate college, etc etc.
But this crossroads has blindsided me in such a way that I never could have guessed. And the worst part is, I cannot define it. I feel that I am standing at a threshold, teetering above a precipice, and before me there is nothing but fog. For the first time in my life I don't have a thing on the horizon. I am not preparing for marriage. Not preparing to welcome my first child into the world. It seems as though. . . I have arrived. Wherever the hell it is that I am.
What next? What next? The question is asked by friends, family, and myself! What am I working towards? What goals do I have for the future?
"Our [busy] religions, sciences, and business ethics have tried their hardest to convince us that there is a Great Reward waiting for us somewhere, and that what we have to do is spend our lives working like lunatics to catch up with it. Whether it's up in the sky, behind the next molecule, or in the executive suite, it's somehow always farther along than we are—just down the road, on the other side of the world, past the moon, beyond the stars. . ." (Hoff, The Tao of Pooh)
The rat race. The next big thing. Your career. Her start-up. Their side-hustle. His hobbies. The great "what's next?"
It's all so. . . exhausting to me. I don't think it works for me. Am I alone in this?
The Tao of Pooh is brilliant. I have always been fascinated with Taoism as a philosophy that I can subscribe to, but I have never really started to "get it" until now. Benjamin Hoff uses Winnie the Pooh to describe principles of Taoism in easy-to-digest morsels, or as Pooh might say, smackerels. Here is a short sample that illustrates the Wu Wei, or natural order of things:
"Say, Pooh, why aren't you busy?" I said.
"Because it's a nice day," said Pooh.
"Yes, but—"
"Why ruin it?" he said.
"But you could be doing something important," I said.
"I am," said Pooh.
"Oh? Doing what?"
"Listening," he said.
"Listening to what?"
"To the birds. And that squirrel over there."
"What are they saying?" I asked.
"That it's a nice day," said Pooh.
"But you know that already," I said.
"Yes, but it's always good to hear that somebody else thinks so, too," he replied.
"Well, you could be spending your time getting educated by listening to the radio instead," I said.
"That thing?"
"Certainly. How else will you know what's going on in the world?" I said.
"By going outside," said Pooh.
"Er... well..." (Click.) "Now just listen to this, Pooh."
"Thirty thousand people were killed today when five jumbo airliners collided over downtown Los Angeles..." the radio announced.
"What does that tell you about the world?" asked Pooh.
"Hmm. You're right." (Click.)
"What are the birds saying now?" I asked.
"That it's a nice day," said Pooh.
I don't have much more to say than this, today. Jumbled thoughts, further muddled by election season, a widening gap in my empathy, and a growing sense of confusion about how other people work. I'd bet I could get to the bottom of it if I sat by a fire with everyone, one by one, and just talked. But we are all too busy to talk. What do we all really want?
I want a nice day. And I want the birds to tell me that it is a nice day.
There is power in not being busy. I am scared of my footprints and my shadow, and I don't want them to catch up with me. So I will sit in the shade and be still. At least, until the night comes. Then I will walk slowly back home where I will not see my footprints nor my shadow, obscured by the darkness as they will be.
-DBS
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Current Writing Projects
The Fell Hymn of an Emissary - Draft 2 - 100% (ready for final edits and printing)
Kisarazu, 1998 - Draft 1 - 2%
Forgotten Skies - Worldbuilding/Plotting