“The Tao is like a well;
used but never used up.
It is like the eternal void;
filled with infinite possibilities.”
In these days of drought and climate change, wells can run dry, so the metaphor doesn’t work as well as it once did. But the meaning remains: The Tao is inexhaustible.
But the void? Completely empty space. Nothingness. That’s another thing altogether. This metaphor perfectly captures the Tao’s limitlessness.
I imagine a night sky, black, empty, without stars. I imagine universes being born from this emptiness, this nothingness—innumerable planets, with incalculable possibilities for life. I imagine our planet, bringing forth all its diversity from the largest mountains to the tiniest grains of sand, from viruses and bacteria to dinosaurs and elephants. Everything is born from the void. Over eons, I, too, have come from the void; so have you.
I think about the proposition that emptiness is the source of all possibility. Makes sense to me. When nothing exists, everything is possible. When nothing is occupying a space, whether that space is physical, mental, or emotional, there is the potential for anything to be born into it. If the cosmos arises from emptiness, perhaps the small empty spaces I open in my life will provide room for creative possibilities.
Lately I’ve been emptying my space, the space of my days, the space of my mind and heart. I’m even trying to empty some space in my home. I’ve been doing so with the long view of my ultimate death. I’ve been letting go of activities, commitments, and objects, trying to create space for possibilities in my life. I’ve been trying to make fewer plans and avoid new projects and obligations. Instead of striving toward a goal, I’m opening time to do nothing: unprogrammed time, a void, if you will.
I’m wondering what might be born into this freed-up space. Never mind infinite possibilities; at my age, as a woman, in this time and place, I’m dreaming about even finite possibilities. What might be born in my new spaciousness? Authenticity, love, humility, insight? Such appealing possibilities! Might there also be pain, loneliness, boredom, and meaninglessness?
That’s the thing about the void. Anything can rush in to fill it. I’m not going to try to soften this reality for myself or for you. Do we want to open to whatever possibilities manifest—welcoming, accepting, learning, and adapting to them?
Unlike many people I know, I’m rather partial to the popular phrase, “It is what it is.”
Here’s the Taoist parable behind that modern-day adage, which I believe captures the spirit of the lines from Verse 4 at the top of this post.
A farmer’s horse runs away. His neighbors come to sympathize, saying, “Too bad, you lost your horse.” He replies, “We’ll see,” or “It is what it is.” The next day, his horse returns, bringing with it three wild stallions. His neighbors stop by to say, “What good luck!” He responds, “We’ll see,” or “It is what it is.” A few days later, when his son tries to tame one of the stallions, he falls off and breaks his leg. The neighbors come again and express their sympathy: “What will you do without your son to help you on the farm?” The farmer replies, “We’ll see,” or “It is what it is.” A little while later, the army press gang shows up to conscript his son, but since he is injured, they leave him alone and move on. And so on and so forth.
The farmer’s openness to whatever arises mirrors the Tao’s quality of entertaining infinite possibilities without judging any as good or bad.
It’s the nature of possibility that you can’t know exactly what it will mean or how it will turn out. As Alan Watts, an expert on Taoism, sums up: “The whole process of nature is an integrated process of immense complexity, and it’s really impossible to tell whether anything that happens in it is good or bad — because you never know what will be the consequence of the misfortune; or, you never know what will be the consequences of good fortune.”
The Tao is like the eternal void: filled with infinite possibilities. So I’ll keep making room, perhaps not for infinite possibilities, but for the few that matter most to me at this stage in my life—and hope to greet whatever arises with a calm “It is what it is,” or “We’ll see.”
