A Good Start

In the garden stands a tree. In springtime it bears flowers; in the autumn, fruit. Its fruit is knowledge, teaching the good gardener how to understand the world. From it he learns how the tree grows from seed to sapling, from sapling to maturity, at last ready to offer more life; and maturity to age and sleep, whence it returns to the elements of things. The elements in turn feed new births; such is nature's method, and its parallel with the course of humankind.
~ Chapter 1, Verses 1-5 of The Good Book: A Humanist Bible by A.C. Grayling ~

In a recent email, Baroness Radon suggested I might be interested in this book. So, after looking at a review or two on the web, I decided to check it out from the local library to see if it might be something I would want to add to my future book purchasing list (it's been added).

It's been said that one shouldn't judge a book by its cover and that should also extend to its first few lines. I have read quite a few books that start out well, only to peter out the farther I went. While this might be the case with this book, I must say that the lines quoted above make me very hopeful that this won't be the case this time. I don't know about you, but the quoted snippet really speaks to me.

I've been asked before why philosophical Taoism points towards nature so much. In my mind's eye, nature is utilized because it presents an unvarnished manifestation of Tao or the Grand Mystery. While humans are a manifestation too, we are corrupted by ego and desire. We erect psychological dams that block our natural flow and internal nature.

But these barriers do not exist on a windswept beach, sunlit meadow or misty mountain forest. We are afforded the opportunity to see the nature of life and death in its naked splendor. We can experience the design of life without the encumbrances of ego and desire. We can learn what it means to be free from worry, expectation and anxiety. In the stillness of the dusk, we can get a glimpse of utter authenticity.

Humankind has a place in this web, but I feel we err when we try to delude ourselves into thinking that the web was weaved for us and us alone. Each of us is but one grain of sand on an endless beach or one speck of dust blown by the wind. We are each a thread in a grand tapestry and every life -- regardless of size or duration -- plays an integral role in the constitution of the fabric.