Tag: tao te ching

Morning walk

Contemplating the first four chapters of the Tao Te Ching.

Nameless origins, non-action and natural order. The first nation’s humble relationship with the world comes to mind. Chickadee appears and as quickly disappears.

“… becomes one with the dusty world.”*

 

*Tao Te Ching, Stephen Addiss & Stanley Lombardo translation

 

IMG_9928

Letting go

Remember when I kept drawing the same card over and over until I realized it wasn’t about the card but the book and I found Tao?

It’s happening again.

Not the mapping of stars writing ancient alphabets hexagrams carefully drawn diagrams of barn renovations or words letter by letter. There’s something else.

 

Last night I dreamed of black bear running back and forth between us like a happy dog fear turning to sorrow as shots rang my eyes opened. Driving to town I saw crow on a wire scratching his head. Later I struck the index finger of my left hand hard with the hammer. The nail will turn from blue to black and be lost. A new one will grow in its place.  

 

 

Following the monarch

Trans Canada Trail on a Sunday morning. Just before the heat sets in. Contemplating an exquisite line from the Tao Te Ching. Slap. Crushing deer flies on my neck. Toss a stick, then a stone and another into the pond for the dog. She swims circles, looks up for more but I’ve already climbed the bank and carried on.

“Just realize where you come from, this is the essence of wisdom.”*

Bones of a large rodent at the edge of the grass. We pass a small monarch. Black and orange flutter in the branches.

Trains used to travel where we’re walking. Earlier in the week I met an older gentleman on a different trail. He was driving a rusty three wheeler he bought new in 1985 before they were outlawed. Born and grew up at “the station” and never really left. He recalled a time without dam, causeway or big industry when his dad and uncles fished all the way up the river. Talked about eating flounder, building trusses and square dancing. Perhaps my wife and I might be interested in square dancing? Sylvester Station remains as a cluster of houses, but the old line runs directly into the water now. Disappears. Remerges somewhere in the alder further down the shore. A trace among animal paths.

We come across the butterfly again on our way back. She’s lovely and stays with us for a good stretch. Wingstroke and drifts along. Sets upon the path, a stalk of grass, branch or hanging bough. Waits and carries on. Finally she turns and I stand for a long time, watching until she disappears.

 

* Tao Te Ching, A New English Version by Stephen Mitchell