No More

Scott Bradley

"And then Chen Jen was no more — just as he had never been."

This, the final line in the Book of Chen Jen, is one of my favorites. I can't know how it affects the reader (if at all), but it challenges me in many ways.

Of course he had never been; I made him up, after all. But are we not all in some sense made up? Are not the life and death of a fictional character ever much as real (or unreal) as our own?

I struggle(d) with whether to include an "if": "just as if he had never been". If he had been 'real', wouldn't it have been too definitive a statement to say he had never been? "If" adds a necessary ambiguity. In the end, I decided that the "if" could be implied by those who would read it thus.

But have any of us ever truly been — do any of us ever exist?

One thing that intrigues me about death is how the dead are so quickly and completely forgotten. How many billions have been plowed under without a trace? Cavemen, Egyptians, Assyrians, Phrygians,...your great, great grandmother. "Count me among the dead / so long forgotten / as to have never been." I shared this slice of a 'poem' with a friend steeped in Zen, and he said, "What's to count?" But that's the point.

Since I have presumed to quote from Chen Jen, it might be appropriate to add that, though I was greatly inspired through the writing, and still find in it much that continues to inspire, I also find much of it embarrassing. It is largely amateurish and trite. But then, like these posts, it was just an exercise, and not intended as an end in itself.

You can check out Scott's other miscellaneous writings here.

The Sage Is No One

The Sage Is No One
by Scott Bradley

The sage is no one.
You hoped for a blazing star?

The sage behaves as he does.
You expected a paragon of virtue?

The sage cares not for appearances,
nor a known sage to be.

What does it mean that the sage is not
what you would have her be?

The final question in this saying of Chen Jen is the heart of the matter. Whatever image we have of what a sage should be speaks more about who we are than how a theoretical sage actually might be. The question assumes that we wish to at least approximate the character of a sage. If you do not, well, then these words are not for you. Perhaps you are already free of the folly of wanting-to-be. This may mean you are yourself a sage. Or it may mean you have yet to experience the unraveling and un-becoming of a growing self-awareness.

What we expect in a sage reveals a great deal about the nature of our own bondage. We want that a sage should wow us; we would like to wow others. We want that a sage be serene and holy; there is a right way to be. We would have a sage behave just so, because we are bound by concepts. They may be concepts tempered by the discrimination of right and wrong, but they are first and foremost just ideas. Ideas are not reality and only serve to insulate us from a direct experience of reality. They mediate. And mediation is a necessary tool. But they do not touch the thing-in-itself.

The paintings we have of Zen masters by Zen masters are, I suspect, no mere iconography. What might be the point of these imaginary depictions of the legendary Bodhidharma? Study them. He glares at us. Is he mad? He is a heavy bearded barbarian from out of the West (India). Inscrutable. Unapproachable. He is a slap in the face of our sensibilities, our preconceived ideas of how things should be.

Lin-chi, hoe in hand, glares at us over his shoulder. Whatta want? You lookin' at me? Get on with your own work, and I'll get on with my own. I'm not you, and you won't find yourself in me. Nor am I who you imagine me to be. If he had his staff, he might crack us a good one.

There is the story of how a young monk, after hearing his master screaming most unnervingly at his death at the hands of robbers, despaired that he had not been so holy after all. You silly fellow, remonstrated a senior monk, he screamed because he was being murdered. It was a great scream! Get over mentally boxing yourself and others in a crate labeled how-things-should-be.

You can check out Scott's other miscellaneous writings here.

Chen Jen on Laozi - Chapter 5

Heaven and Earth are the named. We call them Nature — this vast, inexplicable up-welling of apparent existence of which we are a part. Its Source is Nameless.

Nature does not care.

A spring of endless giving,
Yet of giving nothing knows.

A fledgling falls,
A world dies.
Endlessly transforming,
Where is there a fixed identity?

Let us not impose our artificial values on Nature — purpose, meaning, benevolence. Let us rather harmonize with the way of Nature. Herein is peace.

If there is caring, let it be an expression of the up-welling within you, not a reified value imposed from without.

Straw-dogs are formed, have their day in the sun, pass into oblivion. Let us not assign them a fixed and lasting identity.

Yes, your precious self, too, is a transient thing — to release it from your fearful grip is to realize harmony with Reality.

How vast and unfathomable, this great up-welling of apparent existence! Our words are meaningless! You will find the fathomless much deeper within you.

This post is part of a series. To view the index, go here.

Chen Jen on Laozi - Chapter 4

Tao is empty. Would you experience Tao? Be empty. Yet know, too, that in emptiness there is no Tao. This is Tao.

Always, to speak of Tao is to aspire to be Tao-like. This is to experience Tao.

Tao is fathomless. Return to the fathomless up-welling of life within you. This is to unite with Tao.

Tao is one with the dust. Be thou likewise. This is to follow Tao.

This post is part of a series. To view the index, go here.

Chen Jen on Laozi - Chapter 3

Where does a sage now govern? When has one ever governed?

Is it not rather that when so-called sages — Confucian, Mo-ist, Taoist, or Buddhist — gain a foothold in the courts of power that they oppress all the others? And is not this but a further expression of what led them to seek this influence? This is the use of means. This is the way of power.

Rather, let the sage govern herself, and that, by non-governing. Abiding in spontaneity, her influence will also so arise.

There will be no Utopia that does not self-arise. This is the way of spontaneity.

This post is part of a series. To view the index, go here.

Chen Jen on Laozi - Chapter 2

Is there ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ on the moon? Or in the unfathomable reaches of empty space?

It is you who introduces opposition into the world.

But if you are to blame, so am I for calling you ‘you’. Without ‘I’ there is no ‘you’, Without ‘you’ there is no ‘I’. Yet we know and love each other because there is other. And without ‘you’ and ‘I’ there is no ‘moon, no ‘space’, no ‘world’.

Tao manifests. Manifestations are Tao. One generates Not-one. Not-one generates One. This is the human experience. This is Tao.

Wholeness is to dwell in both One and Not-one. The Whole Person lets One generate his Not-one and his Not-one generate One. This is to dwell in spontaneity. This is harmony. This is Walking Two Roads.

This post is part of a series. To view the index, go here.

Chen Jen on Laozi - Chapter 1

This is not about Tao. It is about you. What else asks after Tao? Where else could Tao be found?

The Ultimate cannot be conceived and thus has no name. To name It is to miss a way.

This gate yawns wide within you. You need look no farther. Surrender utterly into Mystery. Cast off every line. Drift in Flow. This is Tao.

There is only Tao. Being human, we see its manifestations. This too is manifesting. All that you are, all that you do, is Tao manifest. Your every thought, your every joy, sorrow, fear, trust, pride and shame, is Tao manifest. All that is you is Tao. You need seek no farther. This gate yawns wide within you.

Free from every desire, you are free to express them all. Free from every manifestation, you are free to wander joyfully among them all.

What is not Mystery? Tao and its expressions, all is Mystery. Mystery within Mystery, darkness within darkness, black on black—this is harmony. The way to the Unknown is Unknowing. This gate yawns wide within you. You need look no farther.

This post is part of a series. To view the index, go here.

Chen Jen Bonus

Well, after nearly two months, we've come to the end of the Book of Chen Jen. However, before he "shoves off" for greener pastures, I'm going to share with you five more posts (starting tomorrow morning) in which Chen Jen provides commentary for the first five verses of the Tao Te Ching.

Until tomorrow...

Interview with the Author - Part 14

This last section of the manuscript for The Book of Chen Jen has been broken down into several posts and this post represents the final one. To see all the posts in chronological order, go to the Book of Chen Jen Index Page (scroll down to Section 3). For the sake of these posts, the questions posed by the interviewer, Sue-tzu, will be in bold and the answers by the author will appear as regular text.

You have suggested that we bring this interview to an end. Is there any way I could get you to summarize what your heart has taught you?

No. But I will say this: Knowing nothing, believing nothing, and surrendering therein — this is my gateless gate, my means and my end.

Might Chen Jen have a final imperative for us?

It’s all about letting go. It’s only letting go. Let go of everything until there is nothing left to let go and no more letting go. This is emptiness and rest and harmony with Flow.

Can we expect to hear from Chen Jen again in the future?

Who knows? But I expect not; I think he has said his piece and Tzu-yu had it right when he wrote: “Then Chen Jen was no more — just as he had never been.”

Interview with the Author - Part 13

This last section of the manuscript for The Book of Chen Jen is broken down into several posts. To see all the posts in chronological order, go to the Book of Chen Jen Index Page (scroll down to Section 3). For the sake of these posts, the questions posed by the interviewer, Sue-tzu, will be in bold and the answers by the author will appear as regular text.

Chen Jen shares a great deal more than you.

Yes. And this is one way in which we are dissimilar. There is a great deal of what I call ‘content’ in Chen Jen. He seems to have a message and a desire to share it. I have neither. Chen Jen is a finger pointing to the moon. His way has arisen from his heart, but it is his heart and his path — not that of his readers. The value of his book to his audience — if there is one — is by way of example; seeing that he has found his path, perhaps they can find their own.

Another thing about Chen Jen that I find curious is his extensive use of the imperative — especially in the Sayings. The imperative — telling others what to do — is not an attribute of indifference or of not-knowing. He redeems himself a bit in the Wanderings where he is much more careful to avoid such statements, although they appear there as well. But then, I suppose it is somewhat unavoidable if we answer enquiries about our way. I have only just now given you an imperative: ‘Follow your own heart.’

It struck me that oftentimes when Chen Jen is using the imperative he might be speaking to himself. For instance, when he says “Lay down the burden ...” or “Let your dragons be ...” he is instructing himself. He is grappling with his own experience, trying to follow the pointing of his own finger.

Yes. That is very insightful. And it points again for the need for the reader to see Chen Jen as an instructive example, not as some kind of realized guru whose teaching we are to adhere to.

I find it ‘curious’ — to use your word — that you sometimes disagree with Chen Jen even though you created him.

Forgive me for being pedantic, but I ‘created’ no one — but I think you have understood that. Just as Nature arises spontaneously from Mystery without apparent volitional intention and is thus not ‘created’, so what arises from spontaneous human endeavor is likewise not ‘created.’

But let’s look at this from a more psychological point of view. As you insightfully commented, Chen Jen might very well have been teaching himself, rather than any prospective reader. He was working it out for himself. Might it not be that Chen Jen’s finger pointing was my pointing, as well? And finger pointing, by its very nature — not being the reality itself — is necessarily a fallible activity? This being so, having seen my moon, the finger pointing is clearly seen in its fallibility.

Chen Jen in his writing was engaged in an exercise whereby he was in a process of realizing harmony with Mystery. I tagged along for the ride. Maybe.

Perhaps it might be worth mentioning at this point that I do not find all of Chen Jen’s writings — especially in the Sayings — to be of equal quality. Some of them, for me, facilitate ‘an experience of understanding’ — an experience of insight beyond mere understanding. But many others leave me uninspired. And although I will admit to having edited some out altogether, for the most part, I felt it was best to let them stand. They did, after all, arise. Those that did not seem to so arise are the ones I have discarded. And I might have missed some, having become enamored with their words or ideas.

Interview with the Author - Part 12

This last section of the manuscript for The Book of Chen Jen is broken down into several posts. To see all the posts in chronological order, go to the Book of Chen Jen Index Page (scroll down to Section 3). For the sake of these posts, the questions posed by the interviewer, Sue-tzu, will be in bold and the answers by the author will appear as regular text.

Could we explore a bit your relationship with Chen Jen and his philosophy of life, as you have called it? Do you have a ‘philosophy of life’ and if so, how is it similar or dissimilar to that of Chen Jen?

Not anymore.

You had a philosophy, but you . . . lost it?

Yes. It’s more like I forgot it. There is Life. Life needs no philosophy. A philosophy of life, or ‘a way’, if you wish, is very much like the proverbial finger pointing at the moon; once you have seen your moon, you forget the finger.

You have seen the moon?

I have seen my moon. I know no ‘the moon’; just as I know no ‘The Way’. There is only that which arises from the surrendered heart and this does not prescribe for others. I have followed the teachings of my heart—this has been my path. When the path has been followed, what lies behind is forgotten.

I am struck by the radical individualism of your . . . approach. It comes through pretty clearly in Chen Jen, as well. Are we all on our own then, on this journey?

I can only speak from my own experience. No one else has ever shared my consciousness — within the context of my awareness I have only always been alone. Perhaps you have had a different experience?

No. Even my dearest intimacies have not penetrated my inner awareness.

This being so, it is your individual journey. That is not to say that we cannot have camaraderie along the way or that that camaraderie cannot be helpful. Yet what we most often see is co-dependence — the support of the ego-self through identification with a guru and his followers or with a certain system of ideas. Identity is identification — first with the ego-self and then, subsequently, with another self or a group of selves or with ideas and beliefs adhered to. Yet the loss of identity, in my experience, is at the heart of the transcendent experience.

I find Chuang-tzu’s allusion to a certain species of fish most helpful in this regard. These fish, he tells us, when their pond runs dry, gather together and slime each other until there is water once more. However laudable this may be, he suggests that it is a much better state of affairs when there is plenty of water and the fish forget each other in their enjoyment thereof. This ‘water’ represents the Tao, and its absence is not a given but the consequence of bondage to identity.

And the ‘slime’? What is this slime? It represents the teachings, ideologies, and beliefs whereby we attempt to compensate for the lack of Tao. We all can slime, but there are also those who have become master slimers. These are easily detectable because they have a message and followers who live thereby.

It is important to remember that every ‘message’ is something external to us. What am I to do with this ‘message’? It did not arise from my experience, but stands outside my experience. Am I to believe it? “Believe it — try it — you will experience it,” some might say. But I say that this is putting the cart before the horse and that it is the method which has led humanity in its entirety into bondage to one form of belief or another. Do you remember when you asked me about enlightenment and I asked you, given that you had not experienced it, where this idea, which you apparently believe in, came from? This is slime—one more concept to ‘unlearn’ before you can get on with your journey.

Can you describe something of what it’s like to see your moon?

What!? You need some slime!? No, I can’t describe it. And were I able, I would not do so. Follow your own heart; your path will arise.

Interview with the Author - Part 11

This last section of the manuscript for The Book of Chen Jen is broken down into several posts. To see all the posts in chronological order, go to the Book of Chen Jen Index Page (scroll down to Section 3). For the sake of these posts, the questions posed by the interviewer, Sue-tzu, will be in bold and the answers by the author will appear as regular text.

Not entirely! There is an element of fatalism in his teaching that also ‘disturbs’. For instance, you say he says ‘all things are as they must be.’

I suspect that Chen Jen found it difficult to find the words to express his meaning. Again, ultimately, all flows to the Source. There is one Unity. This does not mean that one cannot choose to do one thing or another. And whether that constitutes free-will or not does not matter. Death, I think, offers us the easiest example of what he means. Death is inevitable and unavoidable. How and when it is experienced might be determined by one’s actions or the actions of another. But from the point of view of death, that is of little or no import. Death will come. Death must be. Death is the great equalizer. All humans die, and in the context of death, where never-having-been is the existential equivalent to no-longer-being, all things are equal and cannot be other than they are.

When Chen Jen talks with the bandit leader, remember how he suggests that the bandit’s death in time—hung up and dried on the city’s walls—may differ from that of the ‘righteous’, but that in the end — in eternity — it is no different at all. The point is: nothing one does in life affects his gathering to Tao — whatever that might entail. There are no cosmic rewards and punishments—no heaven or hell, no karmic load. There is no state of being which, when achieved, changes one’s eternal destiny.

This means, of course, that any experience of ‘enlightenment’ — whatever that might be—is of only temporal effect and has no bearing on one’s fate beyond the grave. Perhaps we could say that what it does do is transform the human experience from what might be burdensome into a careless lark.

But wait. I am making declarative statements about which I know nothing. Chen Jen knows nothing about what death entails — only he would scoff at the burdensome myths of humanity that claim they do know and would thereby bind us in ignorance. What Chen Jen has experienced is harmony with what IS and this leaves him with no apprehension regarding the portal of death. He contentedly drifts with the flow of IS toward that necessary gate.

All this is spoken from the human point of view, of course. And that point of view is of such little import in the universe as a whole as to make the entire discussion ridiculous. The universe goes through its transformations as it must. Just as the deer gather together in the forest and the birds flock together in the trees. There is but one great quality to it all: givenness. Things are as they are. And this is what Chen Jen means when he says things are as they must be. Harmony with IS is the realization of this givenness. And the complete affirmation of and acceptance in surrender to givenness is the expression of this harmony.

Again, I feel compelled to say that all these words and the ideas they wish to convey are just dust in the wind. Chen Jen has passed through the gateless gate and only those who have done likewise can understand their meaning as meant to be understood.

Interview with the Author - Part 10

This last section of the manuscript for The Book of Chen Jen is broken down into several posts. To see all the posts in chronological order, go to the Book of Chen Jen Index Page (scroll down to Section 3). For the sake of these posts, the questions posed by the interviewer, Sue-tzu, will be in bold and the answers by the author will appear as regular text.

Well, that’s another aspect of Chen Jen’s teaching that I find ‘disturbing’ — his extreme quietism.

Yes, that’s a corollary. But let’s finish with the larger issue of ‘nothing matters’ first. In his last saying on that subject he exclaims, “What freedom!” To be free one must be free of all care and to be free of all care, one must be free of all caring. And this is possible because he has realized in his being that all things are ultimately as they must be by virtue of their simply being so. Tao encompasses all. Nothing escapes its net. Everything flows to the Source. All things resolve to a common end, however or whatever the nature of their temporal existence. There is nothing to worry or care about.

Let’s consider, for a moment, a theoretical sage. He is empty of ego-self and its identity. He has let go of every care. Nothing can affect his composure — not death or pain, not good fortune or ill. He roams carefree in the world, internal and external, without meaning or purpose. He knows neither hope nor despair, right nor wrong, happiness nor sadness. All is transcended and his awareness is unencumbered. He has realized that nothing matters because all things matter by virtue of their being of Tao and because they are of Tao they are as they must be. This is the supreme freedom.

And when he comes upon an injustice or the infliction of pain, on an innocent child for instance, what does he do?

What did Chen Jen and Tzu-yu do when they met the refugees from the earthquake?

They gave them all their money so they could buy food.

Why?

Not because it was the right thing to do — the application of an external moral principal — but because it was in their innate natures to do so.

You’ve got it! This is wu-wei, non-intentional doing — doing unintentionally. There is no contradiction between transcendent not caring and actually taking care of others, because the caring for arises spontaneously as an expression of humanity. The sages felt no obligation to help, or anger that an earthquake occurred. Though we might say they were moved to compassion, they were not burdened by compassion.

At this point, I cannot but re-iterate that all this discussion to demonstrate the nature of this unburdened awareness has nothing to do with that awareness. The point is to be it, as Chen Jen says, and that does not happen by discussing or understanding it. In fact, there is no understanding it.

How does this apply to saving the whales? The Chen Jens of today are unlikely to come across whales in their endangerment, yet they are endangered nonetheless and only activism would seem to offer them any help.

Is there a difference between seeing a need and hearing of one? Could not our sage likewise be moved to help whales upon hearing of their need?

Perhaps the saying that speaks most to this is “Can you forget the world?” There is no doubt that if we are disturbed by quietism this saying will leave us aquiver.

Yes! That one really gives me problems; especially the part that asks, “Can you forget all others?”

Yet if we take the saying as a whole I think it is saying this: Engagement in the world by one who has realized supreme indifference is more effective than engagement by one who engages the world on its own terms. It’s like fighting for peace. It’s a merry-go-round of unending cause and effect. To have realized supreme indifference is to have stepped off the merry-go-round and to bring peace through peace.

There, now I have sanitized Chen Jen and we can live with his radical indifference and quietism!

Interview with the Author - Part 9

This last section of the manuscript for The Book of Chen Jen is broken down into several posts. To see all the posts in chronological order, go to the Book of Chen Jen Index Page (scroll down to Section 3). For the sake of these posts, the questions posed by the interviewer, Sue-tzu, will be in bold and the answers by the author will appear as regular text.

“What matters? Nothing matters.” Why do you find this disturbing?

Well, it would seem to rob life of all meaning and purpose—not to mention morality.

But these are precisely the things which Chen Jen tells us are illusions. In harmony with what IS, there is no meaning or purpose or morality. What you call disturbing, he would say is at the very heart of total freedom.

It doesn’t matter then that someone harms another? So, I can do as I please irrespective of the consequences to others?

Of course it matters! But only in a relative sense. What Chen Jen is telling us is that ultimately nothing matters. But you cannot realize this unless you are in harmony with IS, in which case you will not do gratuitous harm to another. “Nothing matters” is not a concept which must be understood and then applied; it arises. This understanding is a consequence of a transcendent way of being. For this reason, Chen Jen would probably look askance at our discussion — this is not something which is discussed, understood and then applied. Indeed, there is nothing in Chen Jen that can be realized by such a method. This is the problem with words: they always put the cart before the horse, the concept before the reality. “Nothing matters”, as a way of being, is not something that can be understood or applied except by one who has realized that way of being.

Nevertheless, Chen Jen asks the question, “What matters?”

Yes. In fact there are three sayings which begin with that question. He is giving us the opportunity to gain insight. He is not trying to get us to apply a principle. When he merely asks a question, and provides no answer, as he does in the first saying, it behooves you to consider it carefully. Have you done so?

Well, yes ... and no, I guess. Chen Jen is a lot of work, when you get down to it. And I don’t always give him the time and contemplation he requires.

That’s not surprising. As a mere object of contemplation, we could mull over the question for a lifetime and still not reach a sure answer. But, as Chen Jen says, you have no business reading his book if you are not engaged in a transformative process. So, let me ask you: What matters, ultimately?

Well, many things matter in a relative sense . . . but ultimately I guess I can say in a theoretical sense that nothing matters. I say ‘theoretical’ because I cannot claim to have actually experienced this awareness. One exercise I tried when considering this question was asking this question: If the sun were to supernova at this moment and all the solar-system were to vaporize in a fraction of a second, would it matter?

And if it did matter, to whom?

Exactly. It would not matter because there would be no one for it to matter to.

Just as what happens today does not matter to the multitudes now dead.

And this shows the relative nature of our belief that things matter.

Yes. This belief is a completely anthropocentric and egocentric point of view. Chen Jen would have us transcend that belief.

And it is important to realize that no immorality arises from this amorality. Indeed, the life of the sage so realized, has a more palliative effect upon the world than any moral exertion.

Interview with the Author - Part 8

This last section of the manuscript for The Book of Chen Jen is broken down into several posts. To see all the posts in chronological order, go to the Book of Chen Jen Index Page (scroll down to Section 3). For the sake of these posts, the questions posed by the interviewer, Sue-tzu, will be in bold and the answers by the author will appear as regular text.

“Realize your humanity, there is nothing else to be.” Can you explain what Chen Jen is saying here?

Why do you ask at this moment?

Well, because it seems to tie-in with what you just said. Chen Jen seems to eschew all metaphysics, all talk about what he has already said is beyond all knowing. He seems to approach human experience without reference to any ‘higher’ spiritual realities.

Yes, that’s true. If it is beyond words, ‘shut up!’ That’s Chen Jen’s word on metaphysics. But there is also his understanding of harmony, which is an experience — not a concept. Essentially, he would say that in the realization of the innate nature of his humanity is his fulfillment in harmony. Nothing is added. No bolt of spiritual lightning shoots out of the ether and enlightens him as a reward for his diligence. No, Chen Jen realizes what it is to be human and that is all. He does not transcend his humanity; he allows it to blossom into its full form. He is ‘realized man.’

He believes in an ‘innate nature’?

I appreciate your critical discernment. No, he does not believe. He experiences what is there. And that experience is had in spontaneity. It is just as all we see in nature; all creatures do what they are. It is only in the human being that it is possible — for reasons beyond our knowing — to want to be other than we are. I offer the fear of death and the wish for immortality as examples. I know there are those who, reading this, might say they have no desire for immortality, but I doubt that they would not prefer that to total extinction. We fight what IS.

Isn’t that our ‘innate nature’, then — to fight against what IS?

Good question. It is certainly a part of who we are. But are we, as a race, dysfunctional? Or, more to the point, are you, Sue-tzu, dysfunctional? Are you “good in your skin”, or are you in conflict within?

I am to some extent in conflict with my own self — my behavior and my responses to that behavior. I guess you could say I am dysfunctional. But is dysfunctionality my innate nature?

If it were, it wouldn’t be dysfunctional. Sorry. That’s just semantics. Your question is a very important one and I think we should try to answer it as best we can. Or rather, let’s consider what Chen Jen would say. What do you think he would say?

I don’t think he would say much of anything. He’d laugh and just go on enjoying transcending that narrow view of human experience.

Exactly. Experience is all. He has experienced more than conflict. He has experienced harmony and knows that there is greater potential in the human nature than the conflictedness which arises from the ego-self.

So, he is saying something about the human condition, nonetheless. Humanity, for some unknown reason, is dysfunctional and fails to realize its full potential. Some see this as a ‘Fall’—a fall from some previous pristine state. The philosophical Taoists, like Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu, explained things this way. Others, more scientific, might say that it is merely an evolutionary stage — having recently acquired self-consciousness, we are only beginning to grapple with the experience and have taken temporary refuge in an ego-self. We are experiencing growing pains. But no explanations are necessary, or even possible. It’s the givenness of our experience that matters. We are conflicted. We can transcend our conflictedness. And, in doing so, we are able to embrace our humanity in its totality, including that conflictedness. Nothing is rejected. All is affirmed. We are not in conflict with conflictedness.

It is important to remember that Chen Jen is presenting a philosophy of life, not a system of metaphysics — he leaves that to the myth-spinners.

There’s something else about his philosophy that seems a bit disturbing: “Nothing matters,” Can you explain that?

I can try. But, first what do you say we take a break and have something to eat?

Sure. And another beer.

Interview with the Author - Part 7

This last section of the manuscript for The Book of Chen Jen is broken down into several posts. To see all the posts in chronological order, go to the Book of Chen Jen Index Page (scroll down to Section 3). For the sake of these posts, the questions posed by the interviewer, Sue-tzu, will be in bold and the answers by the author will appear as regular text.

You said harmony might also be described as emptiness. Can you elucidate on that a bit?

I said that? I thought it was Chen Jen.

You’re right, it was Chen Jen. What did he mean?

Perhaps it might be best to first make clear that there are no characteristics of this harmony which can be separated one from the other. Harmony is emptiness is surrender is freedom is thankfulness is affirmation is transcendence . . . . They are all one and only represent different ways of describing the same reality. You could not possibly experience one without the others.

Emptiness is the human experience transcendent of the ego-self and its identity. Take one human being and remove ‘me’. This means the absence of all opinion, likes and dislikes, knowledge of things transcendent, belief, attachment, and any need for answers, purpose or meaning.

And this human being is self-aware?

Yes. But remember, self-awareness does not mean in possession of a self in the traditional sense of the word. It is awareness aware of itself. We can call it ‘emptiness’ only because it has this context of self-awareness, much as we might say a cup, for instance, is empty.

So emptiness is distinct from the Void?

Chen Jen has little to say about a Void, as I recall. I have nothing to say myself. What he says seems somewhat tentative to me. “There is no Void in emptiness, it is but the limit of the mind” — that’s the only verse that comes to mind. I think we can substitute Tao for Void here. The Void is that which, being beyond all knowing, presents itself to us as nothingness. But how could we pronounce on nothingness without simply descending once again into the morass of metaphysical hocus-pocus? Transcendent and empty, there is no Void, just as there is no Tao, just as there are no questions to make us posit them in the first place.

Interview with the Author - Part 6

This last section of the manuscript for The Book of Chen Jen is broken down into several posts. To see all the posts in chronological order, go to the Book of Chen Jen Index Page (scroll down to Section 3). For the sake of these posts, the questions posed by the interviewer, Sue-tzu, will be in bold and the answers by the author will appear as regular text.

What is ‘Tao’?

‘Tao’ is a word. There is no Tao. We could not possibly express or fathom what is Tao; therefore we cannot say anything about it. ‘Tao’ stands for the Unknown—that which underlies and embraces all that is and is not. Chen Jen uses the term because it is part of the cultural context in which he speaks. I do not use it myself because, like the word ‘god,’ it comes with too much baggage. I like ‘Unknown’ or ‘Mystery’ or ‘IS’. The Tao is all that IS and we truly know nothing of the essence of anything.

Tao is beyond all knowing, yet Chen Jen speaks of ‘harmony’ with the Tao.

Picture yourself in a vast river the banks of which are beyond your vision, indeed, beyond your ability even to imagine. ‘Harmony’ with this river would be to let go and go with its mighty flow. There is no need to understand. It is unnecessary to find a shore. All this would be to fight the current, to be in disharmony with what IS. Harmony with the Tao is complete and total acceptance and affirmation of all that we experience. It is surrender. It is the letting go of all resistance to IS as it touches upon our experience. It is letting go until there is nothing left to let go and no longer any letting go.

If I stub my toe...

If you stub your toe, say ‘ouch.’ Or ‘fuck!’ But do not blame IS. Do not blame the toe or the object upon which it stubbed. Blame your careless self, if you must, but then accept and affirm that you have a careless self which is not only careless, but also foolishly assigns blame. Another way to describe letting go is transcendence. There is a hurt toe and a careless, self-blaming self, but you transcend them. You are not these things. Does the toe hurt? Yes, but the hurt has no meaning, nor do you assign meaning to it. In the same way, the self hurts in its blaming but you do not identify with it. “Let your dragons be.” This is what ego-selves do. But you have transcended this ego-self. It is not you.

Who am I then?

‘You’ are the one who need not—would not—ask the question, if free of identity. Only the ego-self asks such questions. Remember Chen Jen’s saying? “There are no answers in emptiness, questions do not arise.” When you have transcended the ego-self you simply are — whatever or whatever not — you are. This is the freedom of simply being.

Interview with the Author - Part 5

This last section of the manuscript for The Book of Chen Jen is broken down into several posts. To see all the posts in chronological order, go to the Book of Chen Jen Index Page (scroll down to Section 3). For the sake of these posts, the questions posed by the interviewer, Sue-tzu, will be in bold and the answers by the author will appear as regular text.

Can I come back to ‘the heart of your way’? You have Chen Jen say a great deal about not-believing and not-knowing as a . . . I want to say ‘means to harmony with Tao’, but I know you don’t recognize a distinction between means and ends.

To tell you the truth, I feel more like Chen Jen had me say these things rather than the other way around.

You mean you ‘channeled’ Chen Jen?

God help us!! I don’t know what this ‘channeling’ is, nor do I want to. Is there no end to all this hocus-pocus?! I can think of nothing scarier than browsing through the New Age section of my local bookstore. No, I meant that the words which Chen Jen wrote arose without my intention. They arose in spontaneity. This pre-empts the question why I wrote Chen Jen. There is no ‘why.’

Can you tell me then about ‘the heart of your way’?

Is there no escape? Okay, let me tell you about what Chen Jen said and I will keep it within that context — that is, he speaks, not I. Do you understand what I mean?

You do not want to teach or espouse a teaching?

Correct. Chen Jen has realized harmony with ‘Tao’. This harmony might be described as emptiness. Emptiness is a way of being in which consciousness, though self-aware, has transcended ego-self. Ego-self is an illusion created by self and is expressed primarily in a sense of personal identity. This sense of personal identity is sustained through belief. The exposure of this and all belief to the light of emptiness burns them away. One is empty. To be empty is to have no beliefs, including the belief that one knows something about the nature of ultimate reality. But to be empty is also to be full. Emptiness is freedom. It is freedom from fear — fear of death or of any event that might overtake one. It is freedom from need — the need to know, to achieve, ‘to be someone’, to have a purpose, or meaning in life. And because self-awareness remains, emptiness is full of thankfulness and joy and the serendipitous freedom of being.

There are many ways I can say the same thing though with different emphasis. Chen Jen has realized harmony with ‘Tao’ through letting go of everything within himself that is in conflict with the flow of what IS. He does not contend with death, the absence of meaning or understanding, or the hazards of life. All is affirmed. Nothing exists outside the all-encompassing embrace of ‘Tao.’ Everything is part of the great flow of ‘Tao’. Everything returns to the Source.

Or I could say: Chen Jen has transcended the captivity of self-identity. He has realized a transcendent view in which he is free of the burden of a belief in his own existence. For him, ‘self’ is awareness which neither has nor needs a reason to be. It Is, and is accepted as such.

Interview with the Author - Part 4

This last section of the manuscript for The Book of Chen Jen is broken down into several posts. To see all the posts in chronological order, go to the Book of Chen Jen Index Page (scroll down to Section 3). For the sake of these posts, the questions posed by the interviewer, Sue-tzu, will be in bold and the answers by the author will appear as regular text.

I think I will just jump into the deep-end and ask you: Are you enlightened?

What?! What a question! I don’t even know what ‘enlightenment’ is, so how could I answer the question? But let me ask you the same question: Are you enlightened?

No.

If, then, you are not enlightened — have not had this theoretical experience of enlightenment — how can you ask about it? Where did this idea come from? Who put it in your mind and gave you a concept which has no basis in your experience but in which you have now invested belief and, most likely, have created a goal to achieve? Whoever he was, might he not have done you the greatest disservice? He gave you something to believe. And, believing, you now can strive to achieve. Are believing and achieving the means by which we might realize harmony with what IS? How could this be the case if this harmony is the absence of belief and striving? And how could anyone who had this experience turn it into the object of a teaching? Does this not betray the very claim to enlightenment?

Then the Buddha was not enlightened?

I have no idea whether such a person ever was, had an experience of enlightenment, or, should he have had such an experience, immediately went about turning it into a mess of doctrines and beliefs. But I would suggest that if Gautama did have this experience it was not he, but the un-experienced who betrayed it. Let’s examine the message for a moment — consider what this experience of enlightenment purportedly entails. Is it not, in part, the cessation of all desire? What possible motivation, then, could Gautama have for gathering about himself a bunch of devotees and spinning out a system whereby he leads the world to enlightenment? I have no doubt that there are great ‘enlightened masters’ who can explain it all to us. And, hey, what do I know? I have not studied the sutras, sat at the feet of the enlightened, put in the obligatory years in a Zen monastery in Asia, learned a vast lexicon of Sanskrit and Pali terminology, or read the plethora of literature about the how to’s and how not’s of enlightenment.

You’re a radical iconoclast.

Iconoclast: ‘one who breaks idols.’ Yes, I guess that expresses my way, in part. Every belief is an idol. Every belief. But I don’t care about your idols — you’re welcome to them — it’s only my idols which I break.

Judging from the Book of Chen Jen, that’s at the heart of your ‘way’.

That belief, you mean?

(Laughs). Yes. Is it a belief?

Everything is an idol if you make it so. But that is a very difficult question to answer and one which cuts to the quick of the entire enterprise: Do I believe in something — whether a hypothetical state of being or a method to achieve it? And my answer will answer your original question. No.

No, you do not believe . . . ?

Correct.

Then, ‘yes’, you are enlightened?

I cannot answer that question. What was it that Hawkins called that event beyond all physics? The ‘event horizon’? The ‘singularity’? Not that I understand him any more than I understand all this about ‘enlightenment’. It is an event beyond all knowing and comment. In any case, I am going to fall back on Lao-tzu: “Those who know do not speak.”

Interview with the Author - Part 3

This last section of the manuscript for The Book of Chen Jen is broken down into several posts. To see all the posts in chronological order, go to the Book of Chen Jen Index Page (scroll down to Section 3). For the sake of these posts, the questions posed by the interviewer, Sue-tzu, will be in bold and the answers by the author will appear as regular text.

A common theme in Chen Jen is this idea of ‘arising’ and you have used it already in this discussion. Can you tell me more about what you mean by ‘arising’?

This is the heart of wu wei — non-doing, or perhaps, non-intentional doing. When allowed to just be what they are, things do what they are. When a person is empty of self-identity, the innate nature of his humanity expresses itself as a matter of course. This is spontaneity — the unintentional arising of one’s humanity.

‘Wu-wei’ being a term used by Taoists. You seem very much influenced by Taoist thought. Is there any one work that has particularly inspired you?

Yes, what I like to call ‘philosophical Taoism’ — that is, non-religious Taoism — has pointed me in the direction I seem to be going. And Chuang-tzu is by far my favorite exponent of that philosophy. In fact, I have plagiarized him unconscionably throughout Chen Jen.

And that’s okay — to plagiarize Chuang-tzu’s work?

It’s all fiction. Who really wrote The Book of Chuang-tzu? There were many authors, no doubt. And who did they plagiarize from? Whoever they were, they made loose with the facts of history and put words in the mouths of those who either never existed or, if they did, would never have said them. But what difference does it make? Everything is many times removed from ‘fact’; everything is hidden behind veils of obscurity. And this is just as Chuang-tzu would have had them be. The less able we are to find a fact or personality to grasp upon, the better.

I have wondered about the term ‘dark sages’ which you frequently use to describe Chen Jen and his friends; is this what you mean—that they are obscure and hidden?

Yes. They have made it a point to remain as anonymous as possible. They have no followers and would flee should some seek to be so. The appellation is found in Chuang-tzu, variously translated as ‘dark sages’ or ‘obscure sages’. They are grouped together with ‘uncrowned kings’. Their greatness resides not in being known and applauded, but in remaining hidden and unknown. It’s not just that they do not seek fame, but that they would see it as falling short of the Tao to have it. For all our talk of the Tao, it remains unknown.

Are you getting hungry? Shall we break for lunch?

Yes, let’s do.