Serenity Now

"Express yourself completely, then keep quiet.
Be like the forces of nature:
when it blows, there is only wind;
when it rains, there is only rain;
when the clouds pass, the sun shines through."

(Tao Te Ching)

That's not the best translation I've found for that section, but it will do.  It's always been my intention (thus the name "The Tao of Patrick") to use this blog as a place to come and share my Taoist views.  I've done that off and on, though mostly indirectly.  And I'm not professing to be an expert, just someone willing to share his thoughts and experiences with those who might find it fascinating, inspiring, or entertaining, or even who simply have nothing better to do with some time.

Some years ago, a few nice young Mormon(?) boys came to my father's door.  I met them with a big grin, determined to have a little fun (at their expense, I admit).  When they opened by asking how my day was, I exclaimed with great flourish that it was absolutely wonderful.  When one, taken aback, asked if that's because I'd found Jesus, I said "No!  I'm a Taoist, and MY FAITH SUSTAINS ME!"

What followed was about 30 or 40 minutes of education in Eastern philosophy for them, and absolutely nothing I didn't already know.  And I did make them stand out on the step the whole time.  I can be a dick, I know, but they expect others to be willing to listen when strangers prattle on about religion, so I don't see why I shouldn't demand the same of them.

Lately, as was the case following my mother's death, I've perhaps been a little more in tune with my religious/philosophical beliefs.  For those who understand Taoism, and understand me, they know what that entails (mostly quiet reflection and discipline).

Today, I've been pondering serenity, and the passage above.

Yesterday, a coworker had a panic attack when he became very frustrated with the fact that he was trying to raise what he considered a very serious issue, but felt as though no one was hearing him or appreciating the gravity of what he was saying.  His reckless passion reminded me somewhat of a younger, more energetic, more naive version of myself.  I appreciate his frustration completely, but I think my expectations for the outcome have become a little more realistic as I've aged.

Years ago, when I was only nine, an incident happened at school where I felt I'd been wronged by the people in authority.  In spite of the fact that most would have characterized me as a "quiet child" (I've often said the same of myself), I stood up to my Grade 4 teacher and attempted to leave class and walk to the principal's office, "going over his head", when he refused to hear me out.  Of course, Catholic boy's school and all, I was dragged back into the classroom and flung into my desk where I would sulk for the rest of the afternoon.

In my teens, when there was a great deal of confusion at cadets about a fight amongst the NCOs, and when our Warrant Officer was conveniently absent as our defender, I again stood up for what I felt was right.  I was demoted.  I would later still make First Class Warrant Officer (and joke "and I had to do two ranks twice!"), thanks to the unswerving loyalty and willful obedience of those beneath me I'd defended that day.

As a young officer I "crossed the line" a few times with superiors and had to be "put in my place".  I was a "no man".  It was well understood.  I got on a lot of nerves, I'm sure.

And yesterday, I was at his side briefly, and when he was gone I was quietly approaching the powers that be and - albeit much more calmly - trying to express those same concerns he was.  I chose my words carefully.  I spoke them softly.  And when all was said and done, I retreated, accepting that nothing was likely to change, that things would proceed in a way that would leave me feeling dissatisfied, and that I would make my peace with it.

Taoism has taught me that 'if even the winds of heaven cannot rage forever, how can you?'.  One must pick one's battles.  One must know when to speak, and when to shut up, and when to lead, and when to follow.  They're not paying me to have the headaches (or at least not that headache), so I should leave it to someone else.  Some day, when it's my turn again, when I have the power of the wind at my back, perhaps things will be different.  Until that day, I simply remind myself that no one has ever said on their deathbed "I wish I spent more time at the office".

So I will find ways (such as this) to put the stress of work out of my head, and welcome my personal life back in to my heart.  I can't control the situation outside; I can control myself.