Stillness as Seeing
Calm is a skill.
We live in the world of phenomena. And the phenomenal world is constituted of ever-present noises, distractions, and allures. It seems inevitable that, sometimes, we can take the appearances of things to be a solid substance, which we call reality.
Generally speaking, we are inclined to believe that we are rational beings, capable of making choices for ourselves. We are constantly interpreting things, reading meaning into the social web, and defining our modes of existence with actions.
But, at some point in life, we would wonder, are we trapped in a loop? Is there an end to all of this repetitive cycle of striving, rest, and hustling?
How do we get through all the inevitable loss, grief, disturbance, and sufferings?
The message from Mahayana Buddhism suggests that we might start by reassessing our perceptions of relations with the external world.
The notion of the “I” is dubious in the sense that it is the receiving end of the outcomes of the interactions between the senses and the external world.
The idea of our existence is cast into doubt as our knowledge, feelings, attachments, and distinctions in the mind are connected to something fundamentally impermanent, fluid, and transitory. Is the phenomenal and material world, the realities and things associated with the currents and undercurrents of change, real and solid?
Taoism says that the moment we start identifying with the elements of the external world, entanglements and attachments become inevitable. In other words, if we do not see through the desire to be identified with external things, we run the risk of being possessed by them. This is a spiritual bondage.
The more attachments we have, the less aware we become, and the less self-control we have. Being dictated by attachments can make us tools to satisfy desires and material things.
This view is closely associated with seeing the inherent potential of the individual. In this sense, we are a process from an actual existence to a spontaneous possibility.
Anchoring the heart-mind
Inner calmness is the key to self-control, the gateway to self-actualization. But it is probably one of the most challenging things to master in everyday life.
We are entangled with all types of disruptions at both the macro and micro levels. Internal conversations with ourselves, endless thoughts, and expectations drive the heart and mind into various directions.
..if good men and good women seek the consummation of incomparable enlightenment, by what criteria should they abide and how should they control their thoughts? 雲何應住 雲何降伏其心
A. F. Price and Wong Mou-lam, The Diamond Sutra and the Sutra of Hui-neng (Boston: Shambhala, 1990), 18. Can we make the heart-mind centered while going through the shifting waves outside? Not anchored to the past, not projected to the future, but dwelling in simplicity and calmness.
To live in this world, we inevitably become part of social dynamics. That is to say, navigating the rules of systems, hierarchies, and organizations in the human world is just an essential part of living. Within these structures, we are dealing with the invisible, subtle, and complex norms and rules.
There is no escape from all this. They are the backbones of the various cultural worlds we inhabit. Yet, we can still engage with all of it with an empty self, reminding ourselves that detachment and living lightly lead to spiritual liberation.
Let things be, but don’t allow things to treat you as just an object, then you cannot be led into difficulties! 1
Things in the phenomenal world are impermanent. They are constantly evolving, in a cycle of destruction and construction, without an end.
To get into the state of allowing the heart to roam in the infinite Tao, without being shackled by external things in the mundane world, without depending on expectations and external conditions, is to be spiritually free and to be at ease with life.
Everything is in a constant flux. Change is essentially positive and negative. When we venture into the world in search of self-realization, we are inclined to have expectations that things will turn out to our favor.
Yet, achievements depend on favorable social conditions and the complex interactions of various factors. This requires us to stay aware of the proper timing as we make our efforts. More importantly, things operate and evolve spontaneously, with regularities and irregularities, with variables beyond our control and understanding.
Compared to the ups and downs associated with the journey of making things happen, how we get hold of it becomes an even more challenging task. After all, inner tranquility is attained through witnessing the vicissitudes of fortune.
A more relevant and vital question is, is it even possible to hold onto whatever it is we deem precious and important?
If the fundamental reality is inconstant and pliable, then our fixations and obsessions are simply wishful thinking, like the act of trying to catch the moon in the river.
Then, what do we do? What attitude should we adopt toward life?
I think Chuang Tzu’s notion of “being at peace with life’s occasion and following the natural course” (anshi er chushun 安時而處順)2 captures the Taoist spirit.
It does not represent a passive or defeatist attitude, but a responsive openness and acceptance, derived from an understanding of the nature of change.
It does not suggest seeking joy and happiness, but a state of mind resting in peace while flowing with change.
With an understanding of its fleeting and unpredictable nature, it suggests embracing the precious moments of life with earnestness, sincerity, whole-heartedness, and most importantly, a detachment.
You must not let your heart-mind be dictated by the shifting tides outside.
Guarding the autonomy and wholeness of your spirit is the key.
Self-knowledge, gained through concrete, authentic living, from your intuitive insights and reflections, by interacting with the world, is the path toward your natural transformation.
Seeing the self within
When your heart-mind is still, your inner clarity grows. You see things as they are.
The water flows naturally in the creek. The sunlight shines through the pine trees. The clouds, slowly but steadily, move in their own direction.
You see your Self, not blurred by any lens, artificial layers, and transitory perceptions.
There is this self, constantly interacting with the external world, its senses intertwined with the outside.
It is always in motion. It tells you that you should do this or chase that, get this or indulge in that, and believe this or reject that. It makes you think that all the choices you’ve made are natural, reflecting who you are and what you desire in life.
Yet, there is also another self that is hidden beneath that self. It silently observes the external self.
At some point, you can clearly feel the dissonance between the two. That’s when inner disturbance starts to arise. You begin to wonder: Who am I? What voice should I follow?
This internal doubt will always emerge, as long as life continues and entangles us in its ever-flowing stream.
Spiritual tranquility is a state of the heart-mind and skill. Attaining it enables us to connect with a greater sense of self-awareness, witnessing the self being dissolved and merged with the myriad things.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about this story from Chuang Tzu.
Yan Yuan, a disciple of Confucius, told his master that he once asked a ferryman with superb skill if it was possible to learn how to handle a boat. The ferryman replied that a good swimmer could get the knack of it immediately without necessarily seeing a boat. Yan Yuan was confused by this.3
Confucius explained that a good swimmer can forget the water, and knowing how to handle a boat is like seeing the water as dry land and regarding the capsizing of a vessel as similar to overturning a cart. His heart and mind are not affected by these external things — everyday and unexpected encounters.
In a competition, when you bet on tiles, you act skillfully and lightly. When you compete to win buckles, you are a bit worried. And when you bet on gold, you are nervous about outcomes.
We are shaped by our choices. In making a decision, are we aware of what we are betting on, at what cost?
We are driven by material, emotional, and psychological desires. When the heart-mind is filled with these desires competing against one another, our spirit is always in a state of turmoil.
Yet, it is impossible to desire the absence of desires. This is against our human nature.
Conquering small material desires can be followed by larger, psychological desires. Some people want to be recognized and liked, and some are attached to labels, approval, and belonging.
All this can be said to be gripped by desires arising from identification with the world of phenomena. Yet, such a world is always in a cycle of destruction and construction.
Can we get hold of our heart-mind in the concrete moments of living, such that we do not mistake muddy currents as clear water?
This post is part of an ongoing series — “Essential Taoism for Life.”
Martin Palmer, with Elizabeth Breuilly, Chang Wai Ming, and Jay Ramsay, trans., “The Huge Tree,” in The Book of Chuang Tzu (New York: Penguin Books, 2006), 168.
Burton Watson translated this idea as “If you are content with the time and willing to follow along.” See Watson, “The Secret of Caring for Life,” in The Complete Works of Zhuangzi (New York: Columbia University Press, 2012)21.
Burton Watson, “Mastering Life,” 148.
In writing his parables and stories, Chuang Tzu likes to use Confucius as a character to illustrate his point.




Beautiful 🖤
Thank you for this thoughtful post. One concept I’m struggling with - what is your take on what it means to identify with the external world?