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Chapter 2: My Author & his Agenda

Because I am a book I have an author. So who is this author of mine? What are his credentials and motivations? Actually he’s not really much, but I love him because he’s all I have. Although my topic is China, he is no specialist. But that might not be so bad. Some are so academic they lose her soul - others are so specialized they lose her essence - while others are so political they lose track of her spirituality. Coming from a preacher background my author has the proper mind set. I wish he had been trained professionally but then he might have been corrupted by an obsession with details and facts, losing sight of my forest, while studying the trees. So who is the Author of mine, who is so sadly deficient in certain areas, but never loses sight of me? Here’s a conversation that conveys something of his meager background and his justification for these scribbles, which are me. In his own words:

Sources & Readers

We pass through a door with a roughly scrawled sign on the front that says ‘Potential Readers’. We enter into a courtroom, where many official looking people are already seated. These officious personages sit on a raised semi-circular platform, looking down upon a small circular area, talking amongst themselves.

Editor: “Let the author stand forward to justify this book before this panel of potential readers.”

A human being steps forward.

Critic: “Tell us why we should even begin this audacious work.”

Author: “Let us begin with the title, Tao of China.”

Chinese expert: “Tao of China, what a presumptuous title.”

Critic: “The audacity of the statement is appalling.”

New Ager: “I think it’s kind of cool.”

Expert: “Before proceeding into this enormously bloated work, we need to know a little about the author.”

Scholar: “Who could have the credentials to tackle such a project?”

Editor: “State your credentials, please.”

Expert: “To justify these voluminous papers we see before us now.”

Author: “Lest we proceed upon false pretenses, let me first strip away my face. I’ve never been to China, I’ve never even taken a class in Chinese language, history, or philosophy.”

Expert: “Fraud, sham. Probably self-indulgent hippie poppycock. Why are we wasting our time?”

New Ager: “Even I like to see some credentials, even if they are a bit off beat. Why should I be here?”

Editor: “Let the defendant continue.”

Author: “I have taken Taiji classes for just over a decade from Master Ni, a native of mainland Chinese man.”

Expert: “A decade is not really that much.”

Cynic: “Who is this Master Ni?”

Author: “He was born near Shanghai, China on July 1, 1914. He lived there until 1950, when he left with the Nationalist government to go to Taiwan. He was 36 years of age. Then when he was 60 years old he left Taiwan to come to Santa Barbara, California, USA to teach Taiji. That was 1974. He has been here ever since. He is still teaching Taiji 24 years later at the age of 84 in 1998.”

Expert: “What are this Master Ni’s credentials, if you are to use him as an expert witness.”

Author: “I’m not really using him as an expert witness. Lest any misconceptions arise, he doesn’t speak much English or otherwise. He is a Taoist. Taoists don’t talk much. I’ve really talked to him very little about Chinese culture and history.”

Editor: “Why did you even bring him up then?”

Expert, sarcastically: “As a character reference, perhaps?”

Author: “I am going to be quoting him regularly throughout the novel.”

Expert: “Novel? I thought this was supposed to be a historical exposition.”

Author: “Sort of. It’s actually a historical novel, with China as my main character.”

Scholar: “Are you saying that this is historical fiction?”

Author: “It is fiction like Herodotus wrote. It is history with meaning. The historical story of China has an intentionality that will not be concealed behind the need for the scientific precision of a physical scientist.”

Scholar: “You are going to ignore the facts?”

Author: “The facts known to my ignorant personage will be revealed in all their incompleteness.”

New Ager: “Intriguing. How human.”

Expert: “Trivial, coming from one with such a pathetic background.”

Author: “Further with my Irish background, I tend to stretch reality, whatever that is, for a good story.”

Scholar: “The implied imprecision is horrifying.”

Author: “We focus upon the imprecision of live meaning versus the precision of dead facts.”

Expert: “Sounds a lot like that New Age feel-good gibberish that is so popular right now.”

Foreman: “Returning to the topic of sources: You’re going to be quoting this Master Ni? Has he been published?”

Author: “He has not been published. He has no credentials. Taoists have no credentials. I have no credentials.”

Scholar: “Then how can you quote him ?”

Critic: “Why do you quote him?”

Author: “As an example of a Taoist from Mainland China who teaches taiji in the US.”

Expert: “Self-proclaimed Taoist, I suppose.”

Author: “Actually, not. Here is his first quote.”

Master Ni: “I teach Taoist meditation, but I am not Taoist. I am a free man.”

Author: “Although I call him Taoist, he resists the label.”

Expert: “Great. Just Great. Your main source is not even a Chinese Taoist, but a ‘free man’. He sounds eclectic, certainly not representative of the Chinese as a whole.”

New Ager: “I, too, would like to have a real Taoist. This source even sounds shaky to me.”

Editor: “What other sources do you have?”

Expert: “He is probably channeling through the Yellow Emperor or some such New Age thing. Why are we wasting our time?”

Author: “My main sources are books, which I quote regularly throughout.”

Scholar: “That’s refreshing.”

Expert: “I trust that these books have been written by current experts in the field.”

Author: “I use some classics, some generalized text books, some out-of-date reference books, and some modern introductory books. A smattering of this and that. Whatever seemed relevant.”

Expert: “My confidence is not building.”

Scholar: “At least the novel is grounded in the facts of books, instead of wild imagination.”

Author: “There is some of that too. The thrust is that this book is written as a collective response to many other books. The issues and themes are built on real life experience combined with the literary world. Master Ni and I provide the limited real life experience which grounds the literary world in reality.”

Editor: “Anything else?”

Author: “I did audit an upper division class in the Religious Studies Department at the university on the Chinese novel, The Journey to the West, The professor who taught the class is fluent in Japanese and Chinese and specializes in Chinese religions. He has offered me some advice and encouragement on this paper.”

Expert: “You audited one class? Whoopee!”

Scholar: “At least he has a University Professor to ground his studies.”

Editor: “What is his name?”

Author: “He’d rather not give it out. He doesn’t want to call attention to himself.”

Critic: “He’s probably embarrassed to be associated in any way with this book.”

Author: “Whatever.”

Expert: “We have just established the author’s lack of credentials.”

Editor: “How do you justify your work?”

Author: “Let us return to the title of the work, Tao of China.”

Skeptic: “The Tao of China? What’s that supposed to mean? Is this like the Tao of Pooh or the Tao of Computers .”

Editor: “Probably something attempting to tap into the current interest in Eastern thought.”

Cynic, sarcastically: “The Flow is groovy. Let it all happen. Flow like a river, downhill. How quaint.”

Skeptic: “Yeah, probably stuff like that. New Age mantras and the like.”

Editor: “Is this what we are to expect, when reading this book?”

Critic: “You know. New Age drivel and the like.”

New Ager: “I resent your implications, but will try to love you anyway. I just love stuff written about the Tao. It’s so free-flowing.”

Skeptic: “The Tao, the Way, the Path, the journey is the experience. Wow! Far out! Groovy! How many times have we heard this theme before?”

Cynic: “One of those God type words, which all religions specialize in. The West has God; the Buddhists have Buddha; and the Taoists have the Tao. All is one.”

Scholar: “Joseph Campbell has already established this correlation in his life’s work. What more can be said?”

Editor: “Is there anything more than this? If there isn’t, let us close down these hearings and all go home.”

Author: “As I said, before I was interrupted, let us return to the title of the book, Tao of China .”

Cynic: “Let us start? Why do you use the collective pronoun ‘us’, when it is you, singular, that is going to be telling us about the book.”

Scholar: “Presumably from your vast reservoir of experience.”

Author: “I will use the collective pronouns throughout because I, the author, am only a small part of the process. My ‘us’ has at least three distinct levels. The first ‘us’ is my books and me. I am only attempting to transmit what others have said. I am merely a conduit to a modern context.”

Cynic: “Oh great! Another psychic channeler. Just what we don’t need.”

Author: “The second ‘us’ is me and the Reader. In using the collective we, I am attempting to engage the Reader in the decision-making process. I am not attempting to be right. I am merely arranging some facts together in an intriguing sequence.”

Skeptic: “Participatory reading. How quaint!”

Author: “I want to journey with the Reader through this exploratory experience. I am no expert, as has already been established. I’m just assembling facts together for this historical narrative. I just want the Reader to join with my books and me to explore China, from the beginning to now. This is another reason for the collective we. Inclusive ‘we’ rather than the exclusive ‘I’.”

Cynic: “Count me out.”

Scholar: “Count ‘us’ collectively out.”

Common man: “We want to be told the truth; we don’t want to figure it out for ourselves.”

Author: “This book is certainly not for everyone. Those who want to be spoon-fed the truth should probably look elsewhere. There is no truth here.”

Skeptic: “A pack of lies, just what we suspected.”

Reader: “Come on guys. Quit arguing. I am no expert. My cup is not full and I am curious about China. I like this interactive element. I hate being told the truth. I like making up my own mind and am a bit skeptical of experts like you. I want to hear what this author has to say.”

Scholar: “Oh great. Just what we like, the spread of misinformation.”

New Ager: “No offense, but scholarly writing gets so hung up on detail at the expense of essence, that it puts me to sleep.”

Scholar: “I can see that this discussion is degenerating into anti-intellectualism and lack of rigor. I’m leaving.”

Author: “As I’ve said this book is not for everyone. It is certainly not for those who are so obsessed with a few years or centuries, or a specific time period, that they have lost interest in the whole picture. If you, the present Reader, are a specialist in mentality and need some specific scholarly truths, close this book now and go back to your studies. It is not for you. You will only be frustrated by the inherent ambiguity of the topic. As I said there is no truth here.”

Skeptic and Scholar: “We the experts and specialists are leaving. The author just said this book is not for us.”

Maximizing growth potentials

Editor: “Who is this work for then? It is not for the experts or cynics. It is not for the Common Man. Who is left?”

Author: “In Chinese there are a few different words for person or human. One is rén and the other is zî[i]. Rén has a simple symbol, a presumed stick figure of a man with two legs and nothing else. Rén represents the common ordinary man, any man, every man, who lives and dies.

From the Oxford Chinese-English Dictionary rén is defined as “human being; man; person; people”[ii] and is associated with concepts of humanity, populations, and the human world. Hence rén tends to refer to the bulk of humanity. This book is not meant for the bulk of humanity. It is not meant to be a best seller, palatable for the masses. Instead it is meant for a special individual, although not necessarily a specialist.

This other type of person is represented by the Chinese word zî.

Zî has many meanings. Let us look at its definitions to get a sense of its deeper implications. Zî is defined as “I 1. son; … children 2 seed; egg… 3. something small and hard … 4. person.”[iii] It is associated with seeds, small animals, grandchildren, words and characters. Hence the son and children represent the seeds of the future generations. Zî represents the seed person. It does not represent every-man nor does it represent the master or the king, but instead it represents a person who has growth potential, a seed for future generations.

An incredibly important book in Chinese history is the Kong zî, which is normally translated as The Sayings of Confucius or Analects of Confucius but could just as well be translated The Seeds of Confucius. Within the book are many saying of Confucius. Nearly each of these sayings begins with the two words, zî yuê, normally translated as ‘Confucius says’.

However zî does not mean Confucius but instead refers to Confucius, like a pronoun would. As we’ve seen however the word zî, refers to a person with growth potential. These sayings are the seeds of Confucius, who is a growing person.

Further Confucius regularly refers to jünzî, which is normally translated as Great Man or Superior Man.

In our dictionary the phrase is translated “a man of noble character, gentleman.” Jün by itself refers to an exalted person. While we in the West tend to think in terms of fixed points, the Chinese tend to think in terms of process. Hence we think of someone as possessing a noble character, while the Chinese think of someone attempting to behave nobly. The translation ‘Great Man’ implies that the person has reached the state of greatness, while the phrase ‘Growing Person’ implies someone who is in process. Hence the Seed/Sayings of Confucius are intended to instruct the individual on how to be a seed person, a growth person, with lots of potential. Hence this is not a state that we are attempting to reach but instead a way of being that we are attempting to emulate in order to maximize our growth potential. The translation Great Man or Superior Man creates a idealized human who is almost beyond reach, while the translation Growing Person, can apply to all of us instantaneously. Most of us seed people seek to increase our growth potentials. This is different from the common people who just seek to live and die.

Hence this book is addressed to those who are seeking to increase their growth potentials, to the Seeker who is open to change, curious about maximizing personal possibilities, and whose cup is not full. It is not addressed to the bulk of humanity, rén, who just live and have no curiosity. It is also not addressed to those whose cup is already full, the masters and experts. Our Potential Reader, the Seeker is only a seed person and hence needs water in order to grow. This volume is intended to be the water that nourishes the seed person and allows them to grow intellectually and interpersonally. This study of China and her ways is intended to stimulate our seed persons potential for growth. Nothing more.”

Reader: “I, the seed person, am interested. My cup is empty, ready to be filled. I am tired of entertainment and abstract facts. I am ready to increase my growth potentials in this study of China.”

Third ‘us’, me and my selves

Editor: “Master Ni, a variety of books, and an unnamed university professor. Are there any other sources.”

Author: “Not really, except just us.”

Editor: “Us?”

Author: “Ourselves. That is my third ‘us’; me and my selves.”

Expert: “Great! Yourselves? That has a lot of credibility.”

Author: “All of my selves have joined together to create this work. While most of the times they agree, sometimes they don’t.”

Expert: “Who are these selves.”

Author: “Well for instance, all of you here are some of my selves.”

Cynic, sarcastically: “Right! I am my own person. I refuse to be associated with this drivel in any way.”

Editor: “Surely you don’t think that I am one of your selves.”

Scholar: “Nor I.”

Author: “You are all my various selves pretending to be real.”

Reader: “Without me, this book is just a bunch of lifeless wood pulp.”

Editor: “Or electronic blips.”

Author: “No, all of you are just like little kids playing dress-up.”

Cynic: “Is this guy for real?”

Scholar: “I think it might be time for some serious therapy.”

Editor: “You really don’t think that we are real.”

Author: “I didn’t say that you weren’t real. You are all very real and are all helping me to write this novel.”

All: “What?”

Scholar: “More than a few of us don’t want to have anything to do with it.”

Author: “Sorry but you’re part of the package. You’re all necessary to balance this exegesis.”

Cynic: “Not me.”

Author: “You’re necessary to balance the New Agers lurking within, thinking they’re me.”

Cynic: “Get rid of them.”

Author: “They’re necessary to balance the nihilism inherent in cynicism.”

Scholar and Expert: “We belong at the university. We’ll be on our way, now.”

Author: “Hold it right there. You’re both necessary to balance my tendency to go with my flow of consciousness. You both demand hard-core facts. You are always telling us that we need more facts and better sources.”

Editor and Reader: “We are the only real ones here.”

Author: “Uh. Not really. I need you, the Editor, to publish my work and I need you, the Reader, to read it.”

Editor and Reader: “See! We are real.”

Author: “No. Sorry about that. You are just my imaginary selves that motivate me to keep this work readable. With the Scholar and Expert in charge, I have a tendency to get a bit pedantic. When the Cynic takes command the work gets dry and pessimistic. You, both, are needed desperately to give the book focus.”

Editor: “For me to do my job, I need to know who the Reader is. If the Reader is an expert then I will edit differently than if I think the Reader is a novice.”

Author: “That was why it was so important to get to know the Reader.”

Reader: “I am a Seeker, a seed-person. I’m into fulfilling my destiny, expanding my potentials, personal and collective transformation, and am very curious about the nature of Reality, whatever that is.”

Scholar: “And what’s this idiotic literary device, of a dialogue in the introduction.”

Author: “I thought that the dialectic might be a readable way of introducing some major characters and themes.”

Cynic: “I thought it stinks.”

New Ager: “I sort of liked it.”

Editor: “The jury is out.”

Reader: “I thought it showed a lot of vitality.”

So if you’re looking for an academic paper, forget it. But if your cup is not too full and you would like to explore spiritual essence through China’s prism read on to discover the tao of your inner kingdom.