MINDING MOTIVES

by Hugh M. Lewis

The spirit of the valley never dies.

This is called the mysterious female.

The gateway of the mysterious female

Is called the root of heaven and earth.

Dimly visible, it seems as if it were there

Yet use will never drain it.

(Verse VI, Book One of the Tao Te Ching, D.C. Lau, 1963:62)

I've grown accustomed to myself, and I am happy with who I am. Though no one wants to stay my friend for very long, and though I've long been poor and jobless.  In spite of the many mistakes I've made in my life, I would not trade places with anyone. I no longer need other's approval or disapproval of my being, their approbation or respect, and I no longer permit others to interfere with my inner sense of being in the world. I no longer blame myself for my predicament, nor do I blame others, and I do not feel dissatisfied or regretful of my position. I no longer find fault in others, or blame them for their predicament or lots in life, or for their sometimes desperate actions to alter their plight.

The pathway has twisted and turned in unseen directions, and there have been many alternate ways to take. I have found many dead-ends, and retracing my steps, I've learned that we are in a labyrinth in a forest. I've slowly learned my way through to the other side. There are many ways through the forest, and each traveler must find their own way. We cannot judge the directions others go in, unless we walk in their footsteps.

Each sees the forest in their own different way, and each comes to know their own parts of the whole separately. The analogy of the forest is a profound one, because it allows us to understand how much we are subjectively situated, and confounded, within a larger, surrounding objective world. We cannot know the whole for its many parts, and everyone's view of it is a little different.

Walking along the way in life entails making many decisions about which direction to go in, what pathway to turn down, and which to pass by. Sometimes we mind our motives for why we are walking the way we are, and sometimes we forget our motives or change them in midstream.

Sometimes our motives mind us along the way. Sometimes we are not fully aware of our motives, and sometimes we just walk for the sake of walking, mindlessly, without anywhere in particular to go. And sometimes we make up our motives as we go along to fit whatever we find along the way. Sometimes we discover new motives along the way, or discover that our original motives were misguided or mistaken. Our motives sometimes run out along the way--carrying us only part of the way, leaving us stranded somewhere inbetween. We may start out without any motives, and sooner or later discover them along the way.

Waking, motioning, walking, all entail eventually "minding" what our motives are, whether it is "re-minding" ourselves what we've forgotten, or minding something new that we hadn't known before. Coming to know our motives "make up our mind" for us in the same way that increased involvement leads to increased commitment.

Minding motives rarely comes all at once. It often requires a lot of time and seemingly much wasted effort before we can begin bringing our motives together and making sense of them in relation to the wider world. Sometimes it never "happens" to us, even if our hidden motives have always been "minding" us anyway.

Bringing our motives into clearer focus gathers a kind of momentum of movement and minding that creates its own sense of direction and purpose which becomes difficult to simply change or stop. Our motives connect us to the wider world, realizing within us parts of the world as its on-going history. Minding our motives sooner or later makes us in the world.

Whether we are ever aware of them or not, we always walk in the world with our motives. They push us, pull us along, entice us, order us, prod us, energize us, constrain us, liberate us, direct us, imprison us, and render our lives meaningful, giving it purpose, sense, a reason for being, a destination, a sense of fate and destiny in the world. However repressed, hidden, or secret they may be, we cannot escape the sense of Kharma and prophesy they confer upon our lives.

Motives make our world happen to us, but never very directly. They always work in roundabout ways that are often difficult to understand. Minding our motives becomes a matter of trying to bring them to clearer focus, to manifest themselves upon the surface of our being in clear manner. Sometimes our motives are mixed, confused and even self-contradictory. Minding them is a way of straightening them out into a reasonable sense of order, thereby putting a handle upon them in order to better control their influence upon our lives.

Understanding our motives becomes important in our lives, because if we fail to understand them and control them, then our motives come to exert an unconscious, compulsive influence upon our lives and come to control everything we do without our full awareness or ability to resist.

But understanding our own motives is not all there is to walking in the world. Through this understanding we come to know better the motives of others we meet along the way, and thus we become better able to mind the ways of others in the world. It leads to the way of wisdom in the world.

Though we may be constantly minding our way, mindless we remain along the way. Our motives are never pure, but always come to our consciousness already mixed. We may live our lives with the illusion of the purity of our motives, and never founder upon the rocks of doubt and despair, but without some anchor point, some distant shore-line, our lives are spent floating aimlessly in whichever direction the mysterious winds and currents of change carry us, without ever realizing that we were traveling at all.

Discovering the imperfection of our own existence, and the ultimate uncertainty of our motivations and our movements is the first step, and the first choice taken in our journey. Though we may have been journeying all our lives, our way is always just beginning.

The way never brings our feet closer to the mountain, but moves the mountain closer to our feet. However far we may travel, the horizon is never closer to our view.

Our lives are made of many reasons that we may be unaware of, and which may seem contradictory and at odds with our own willpower and best interests. Our life along the way will be spent in discovery of the hidden treasure buried both within the earth and within ourselves.

The way of the world will not be found in words or even in deeds. Thoughts and acts and the many material things of the world are but figments of the imagination that trick the mind into believing in the illusion of their reason and importance. When we die the only thing we take with us is the way.

little Alyce

living in a strange world of words

dinosaurs and cock roaches

candy and cookies

poopoo and peepee

and Popeye the Sailor Man

a world of fragile feelings

harsh hurtful words

ready-made tears and nonsensical laughter

a world of physical constraints and obstacles

climbing and falling

running, jumping and dancing

sleeping and dreaming

an imaginary world of unlimited possibilities

just waiting to be explored

high and mighty

big bad Brahman

doing double duty

in the business of salvation

keeping his appropriate distance

classless, careless carcass carrier

a penniless, part-time existence

gaining only intermittent employment

without the possibility of transcendence

still keeping his distance

Proud and Humble

Living in the same small village

dwelling in different worlds

existing in different villages

in the same small world

you are a priest

and I am a shaman

you deal with high-minded ideals

I traffic in lowly matters

you're a professional

I'm the amateur

you're a person

of a very important position

and I am a classless fool

without any pretension

Our ways come together

many different times and places

but never the twain shall meet

face-to-face

eye-to-eye

or hand-to-hand

I interpret loosely

you analyze strictly

I delight in disorder

you impose rigid structures

you must suffer my satirical seriousness

I suffer your great comical ego

you're clearly on top

and I'm somewhere at the bottom

but this world is always changing

three bare trees

standing starkly against the gray winter sky

with a squirrel on a lower branch

two red robins in the other tree

a bright red crested male and its partner

and another blue bird in the third tree

up above the construction site

with all the pedestrians walking along the paths

little creatures in the trees

sitting and safely viewing the human world

solitary squirrel

inconspicuous creature

suddenly lost and alone in a human world

scampering about the pavement

trying to dodge the sea of human feet

slowly you make your way across the street

and then quickly dive into the bushes

few of the students even take notice of your presence

if you search for friendship in the world

then you have not looked deep enough

into the shallow pools of reflection

if you need a walking companion

look at the shadow trotting along beneath your feet

strength will not be found

by leaning against this knarled old tree

if you pick up your feet

you will find it there

sewn to the souls of your shoes

trailing far behind 

in your many

forgotten footsteps

one

once and for all

not many

no more need for the part

just the whole

difference eliminated

all deviance controlled

one structure

universal

at heart

a purist

smiting

secretly

every foe

intolerance

of intolerance

hatred

of all hatred

anger

smoldering

in the soul

suffocating

all spirit

begging

the obvious

sitting in class

weighing up the brains

measuring the measure

sizing and fitting human

how small the container

how convoluted the case

how great the capacity

comparing modern virtues

competing

for the same prize

sleeping Sorrow

head tucked

between two

drawn up

pigeon-toed legs

sitting just inside

this glass door

at the end of a long corridor

it is early yet

and you still need your sleep

go home young girl

and come back

later

so much command authority

such firm action

it leaves me authentically awestruck

a very impressive persona

incarnate of the absolute and the apparent

the veil of greatness transcends

the air of wonderment

in the very breath of your being

maybe in our pretentious arrogance

we may aspire to be reborn as highly as you are now

instead of being reborn as humble little ants

that crawl across the floor

if we submit our applications

and then await official approval

maybe we can thus aspire to salvation

to escape this wheel of suffering