Understanding Jains and Jainism| Prof. Padmnabh Jaini

By R. UMA MAHESHWARI
Reflections of Prof. Padmanabh S. Jaini, Professor Emeritus, University of California-Berkeley, on Jainas and Jainism.

JAINISM is a religion, broadly speaking, of “listeners” and teachers, over and above whom are the liberated souls, the ford-makers or Tirthankaras. There was yet another “assembly of listeners” (to borrow a phrase used in one of the edited volumes on Jaina society1), converging in the sweltering heat of Delhi in early June, to listen to Prof. Padmanabh S. Jaini share reflections and insights on Jaina epistemology and the history of the Jaina tradition in India. Jaini was the key resource person at the International Summer School of Jaina Studies (ISSJS) recently held at the Lal Bahadur Shastri Sanskrit Vidyapeeth in Delhi.

The ISSJS was initiated in 2005 as a platform to bring together academics, students and others interested in Jainism and enable them to share the doctrinal and experiential facets of Jainism. The Indian programme was designed to give scholars a course in Jaina tradition through classroom lectures, interactions with the Jaina community and visits to Jaina pilgrim places.
It started with just seven scholars in the year 2005 and the number increased to 28 in 2008, mostly by word of mouth. The ISSJS is also planning to establish research centres in Jaina studies. The first step in this effort is the setting up of the Global Centre for Ahimsa and Indic Research at Parshwanath Vidyapeeth in Varanasi. Organisations collaborating with the ISSJS include the University of Ottawa, the American Institute of Indian Studies and the Shastri Institute of Indo-Canadian Studies. Besides, there are coordinating units or partners in Texas, London, Hawaii and elsewhere.

Jainas have been a minority religious sect for some centuries now. Many would not even know the distinction between Jainas and Hindus on account of the relative obscurity and “silence” on this sect in Indian history and sociological studies. Jainism was one of the original Indian non-theistic traditions besides Buddhism that emphasised individual effort towards self-realisation and ultimate liberation without a god concept. Ahimsa (non-killing), right faith, conduct and knowledge and non-possession (aparigraha) in everyday life takes an individual to that ultimate liberation.

It was founded around the same time as Buddhism (though scholars believe it pre-dated the latter). However, there are relatively few works on Jainas in history when compared with other traditions. And if more and more people, especially in the West, are now turning their attention to Jainism, the credit goes to scholars such as Padmanabh Jaini, Paul Dundas and Peter Flugel.
Although Jaini began his academic career with a study of the Buddhist tradition, it was his work on Jainism (later in his career) that earned him greater worldwide recognition and gave Jaina studies a high profile in the academic community. He is the most respected name among the Jaina community worldwide; Jaini’s scholarship is vast and his knowledge of the scriptures in Prakrit and Sanskrit (not to forget Pali) makes him one of the rare scholars of the old tradition who tirelessly update his knowledge and perspective and constantly writes on various aspects of the Jaina tradition.

Jaina taught at the School of Oriental and African Studies in London before joining the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, in the United States. He retired as Professor of Buddhist Studies at the University of California-Berkeley, where he is currently Professor Emeritus. His best known works include The Jaina Path of Purification (1979), Gender and Salvation: Jaina Debates on the Spiritual Liberation of Women (1991), Collected Papers on Jaina Studies (2001), Collected Papers on Buddhist Studies, and several papers in international journals of repute. Philosophy and epistemology (in both Buddhist and Jaina traditions) have been his forte.

However, Jaini wears his scholarship lightly. He spared his precious time for a conversation with the writer outside his tight schedule of daily lecturing. Following are excerpts from that conversation, supplemented by reflections on his approach to the subject and the course; and excerpts from his well-attended talk at the India International Centre (IIC) in Delhi on June 6, on “Heavens and Warfare in Buddhism and Jainism” (the latter added on request by the Jaina community).

Jaini’s lectures reflected the importance he gave to comparative analysis of religious or philosophical traditions in their contexts. His knowledge of Western traditions – religious and philosophical – to which he made several allusions, is vast. Pointing out the logical limitations within traditions, he would make us see the Jaina point as reflected in the canons and the post-canonical developments in Jaina thought and remind us at the same time that he was not passing judgment on other traditions. His reasoning for those limitations would make us review and revisit some of those limitations from a purely epistemological or logical perspective and draw our own conclusions. His intense lectures brought home the importance of approaching Jainas as a community through its philosophy.

In one of his earlier writings, Jaini had pointed out that Western scholarship to a large extent had been more devoted to Buddhism and Hinduism than to Jainism. This has had its own impact on research in Jaina studies worldwide. The “history of Western scholarship in Buddhism in particular,” he wrote, “is a long and colourful one, covering a period of more than 150 years… (while) in comparison the history of Jaina studies is brief and uninspired: the main portion of Western scholarship in Jainism was completed during a period of about 60 years beginning toward the end of the last century; the scholars of Jainism during this period were interested less in the religion itself than in the linguistic peculiarities of the Prakrit and Apabhramsa in which Jaina works were written. Besides this linguistic interest their religion was approached primarily as a tool for the comparative study of Buddhism….”2

H. Jacobi was among the earliest scholars to bring to the notice of the Western scholar the Jaina canonical text Ayaranga Sutta (Acaranga Sutra) in 1882. Incidentally it is one of the earliest publications of the Pali Text Society. And within Jainism, Western scholarship laid more stress on the Svetambara Jaina tradition than on the Digambara tradition.

Jaini said, “There is hardly anyone working on the Digambara tradition in the West. Though scholarship on any area of Jainism is welcome and needed, the Digambara tradition has most certainly been neglected. We also need more research in regional histories of Jainism (such as yours in Tamil Nadu), and much needs to be done particularly in Karnataka, which I hope scholars working on Jaina studies will do. The Jainas suffered a lot in Karnataka (by way of persecution and marginalisation) and I would be happy if some scholar would look into the Jaina – Lingayat conflict in this region.”

He has been critical also about the influx of – or, the intrusion, in a negative sense – money into the situation so far as some sections of the larger Jaina society3 are concerned. “Money,” he says, sadly, “is for two things – either to destroy your enemies or to give you power by giving hope to your friends and associates of some rewards. Businessmen can only see in terms of loss and gain….”

As for the summer school and its relevance, he said “coming to India itself is an educating experience [for those coming from outside India]. Mere classroom lectures and reading texts cannot be of great benefit as living in a place like Dadabari [a Jaina retreat of sorts in Delhi, where the scholars stayed during the course] can. Dadas are not tirthankaras; and this place is not something traditional Jaina monks would encourage.

“Unless you see these (subtle) things on your own you do not know too much (about practices in Jaina contemporary society). The idea of seeing the location of the religion and tradition is far more important than book knowledge. The scholars who have come here will also be visiting Jaina pilgrim centres which will add to their knowledge and experience of a tradition.”WAR & DEATH

Jaini’s talk at the IIC seemed appropriate in the context of the Sri Lankan situation at present. He believes that the war may be over in Sri Lanka but the struggle is far from over. But he had started to contemplate on the situation by means of a simple question: “Where do you go when you perish in war? Does a person who dies in war go to heaven?” And, as he said at the talk, this question led him to the Buddhist chronicle of Sri Lanka, the Mahavamsa. But, since Jainas were as eager to know what their texts said about the same question, Jaini included reference to the same question in the Jaina canonical text, Bhagavati Sutra (Vyahapannati, Book VII). World religions such as Judaism, Christianity, Islam and the Indian Vedic tradition (and Krishna urging Arjuna to fight) speak of the concept of war and of warriors attaining heavenly abode if they are killed in war. What do the Jaina and Buddhist religions have to say to that?

Speaking of war in these two non-theistic traditions, Jaini said the Mauryan emperor Asoka was the only king in the history of the world who ever apologised for having killed and for war. It was one of the rare occasions where tradition and praxis converged.

The Mahavamsa mentions the war between the Sri Lankan king “Duttha Gamini” Abhaya (101-77 BCE) and the Damila (Tamil) king Elara, where the latter is killed. Apparently, Abhaya ordered the people of his kingdom to pay respects to the fallen Elara by observing silence when they passed the site of his death. Abhaya is filled with remorse that thousands died, and suffers.
Eight Buddhist arhats come to pacify him and absolve him of his wrongdoing (killing in war). Their reasoning, which convinces him, is that he after all killed just one and a half men; the rest were “unbelievers” – those with mithya-ditthi (non-Buddhist in the context of the Mahavamsa). They say to him “as for thee thou shall bring glory to Buddha…” and therefore convince him there are no obstacles in his passage to heaven.

According to Jaini, mithya-ditthi should be understood as a term used for one who does not believe in life after death. But in another text of the same tradition, there is a contradiction. Samyukta nikaya – in a dialogue between a “yodha-jiva” (one who made living from fighting) and the Buddha – gives a different meaning for mithya-ditthi. There the Buddha says that a person who kills is reborn in purgatory (avichi), especially if that person kills with the view (mithya-ditthi) that he would go to heaven therefrom. The Mahavamsa obviously gave a different meaning to the term to absolve king Abhaya of his crime of killing.

In the Jaina tradition, Somadeva Suri (10th century ACE) spoke of defensive war, yet was silent on the idea of death in the battlefield.

An opposite view is given in the Bhagavati Sutra (Vyahapannati, Book VII) where nine Malla and nine Lichhavi tribal chiefs of Kasi and Kosala died in a war. Indrabhuti Goyama (Gautama) and Mahavira have a similar dialogue (as in the Mahavamsa) where Mahavira tells Goyama that those who say these warriors shall go to heaven utter a falsehood. According to Mahavira, only two men attained heaven in this war – the archer Varuna of Vaisali who was a samana uvacaka (upasaka, adherent) and had taken the anuvratas (followed the basic tenets of Jainism) and his friend. Varuna had taken a vow to participate in battle only if ordained by the king and to not shoot the first arrow. In the battlefield, a wounded Varuna bowed his hands in veneration of Mahavira and proclaimed that he would henceforth renounce all possessions and give up all forms of violence until his death. He died instantly and went to heaven. His friend, who said he would do the same, was reborn as a human being. IMPORTANCE OF NON-VIOLENCE
Jaini showed the differences between Jainism and Buddhism on violence and killing. It was only after Varuna offered to renounce all (aparigraha) and give up violence of all kind that heaven became accessible to him; in the Buddhist text, the killing of one and a half (‘only’) “believers” and thousands of “unbelievers” assured king Abhaya a place in heaven. The importance of non-violence in all Jaina texts is highlighted through this story. These are two traditions that do not believe in a god concept. It is important to see their perspectives on warfare and its rationale.
Jaini’s talk was followed by questions on the inherent contradiction within the Buddhist doctrine on war and himsa. Would Buddha have condoned the same? Jaini urged the audience to understand the context, as he often did in his lectures, with a tinge of humour – that Buddha was after all not available at that time. And that violence is not the “privilege” of one community; there have always been enough reasons to go to war in history, but people needed to be reminded as to where they were going if they went ahead with this war.•

R. Uma Maheshwari is a freelance journalist based in Hyderabad and has a doctorate in the history of the Tamil Jaina community from Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi.
1. Michael Carrithers, Caroline Humphrey, eds; The Assembly of Listeners: Jains in Society, Cambridge University Press, 1991.
2. Jaini, “The Jainas and the Western Scholar”, in P.S. Jaini, ed; Collected Papers on Jaina Studies, Motilal Banarsidass, Delhi, 2001; page 23.
3. More often it is the wealthy (Svetambara) Jainas of the north who figure in commonplace perceptions about the Jainas. But there is a relatively hidden, relatively poorer (or middle-class) section among Jainas, and these are most often the Digambara Jainas. Their temples and images of tirthankaras therein are in sheer contrast to the ones found in Svetambara (ornate, rich, marble) temples; in the latter the eyes of the tirthankara image are open (with their bodies decorated with precious stones, jewellery and so on) in striking contrast to the austerity preached in the original Jaina doctrine. Digambaras take umbrage at this representation and there are usually conflicts between these two sects over the takeover of certain older Digambara temples and sacred places by rich Svetambara Jainas. And Digambara Jainas also state that their history and antiquity are being wiped out by the Svetambaras. Then there is the centuries’ old debate between the two sects over the antiquity and authenticity of their scriptures and practice.

Is Taoism, Another Version of Jainism?

by Dr.C Devakumar

Taoism is an ancient Chinese philosophical tradition whose origins extend back to 3000 B.C. The first actual written works to promote the Taoist outlook appeared around 500 B.C. and were attributed to the legendary Taoist sages, Lao Tzu and Chuang Tzu. Taoism has attracted a large number of people from America and other western world. Lao Tzu is the author of the Tao Te Ching (sameecheen dharma ke mahatmiya), currently very popular in the United States with an increasing number of new English-language translations. The writings of Chuang Tzu viz. Inner Chapters (Antaranga bhavanayen) and The Way of Chuang Tzu are gaining wider attention. It is therefore worthwhile to analyze this system from the prism of Jainism.

Jainism as we know owes its origin in this planet in this aeon to 24 Tirthankars and innumerable Kevalins. The 24th Tirthankar lived over 2530 years ago. No wonder, Taoism, as most other Oriental religions owes its roots to Jainism, though there is probably no evidence. It is interesting to note that Jaina thoughts have spread nook and corner of the world even before 3000 BC. The Tamil classic Tolkaapiyam, which describes Jaina principles and philosophy, too is stated to belong to an era prior to 3000 BC.

There are three important principles of Taoism which are identical to Jaina thoughts. These are 1) Tao te 2) ying-yang and 3) wu-wei. For the easy understanding of Jains, I have inserted equivalent Sanskrit terms as and when required. For example Tao te is translated as samyag darshan or sameecheen Dharma. Likewise, I have included the equivalent Sanskrit terms here and there. Taoism deals with the nature of substance and the universe, the way to attain karma nirjara (through wu-wei) and samata bhavana. The concept wu-wei essentially means to do away with the empirical ego clothed with passions, illusion and ignorance. We assume all sorts of doership and ownership roles of respective events and substances which do not belong to us. It also eloquently discusses the dravyartik and paryayartik nayas or viewpoints through ying-yang concept. This concept also reminds us the vidhi (asti) and nished (nasti) tools of analysis of our knowledge.

The text given below is adapted from the articles of Ted Kardash who is the Assistant Director of the Taoist Sanctuary of San Diego where he teaches classes in Tai Chi Chuan and Taoist Philosophy. He is also a licensed Marriage, Family, and Child Counselor with a private practice in the San Diego area.

I invite detailed comparative analysis of each concept with respect to both the schools.

The word TAO itself translates as the Way, or Path or marg or darshan. This meaning includes both the way in which we perceive the world around us (how do we make assessments? what are our values?) and also the way in which we interact with life (how do we behave? what are our actions?). The manner in which we perceive reality influences our way of being in the world, our path of action.

Taoism's central principle is that all life, all manifestation, is part of an inseparable whole, an interconnected organic unity which arises from a deep, mysterious, and essentially unexplainable source which is the Tao itself. Everything conceivable is contained within this principle.

Taoism views the universe and all of its manifestations as operating according to a set of unchanging, natural laws. As an inseparable part of the Tao, human beings can gain knowledge of these laws and become attuned to them. It is these natural laws that constitute the core principles of Taoism. Aligning ourselves with these principles provides a universal perspective and understanding and allows life to be lived in harmony with the Tao. Indeed our way of life becomes the Way (or can we say Dharma), a full expression of the Tao.

Taoism states that all life forces tend to move toward harmony and balance because it is in their nature to do so. From the Taoist viewpoint we, as humans, have the choice of consciously aligning ourselves with the Way, or remaining in ignorance and resisting the natural order of the Tao. To choose the latter means to remain disconnected from our own personal processes, our own Tao, as well as life's grand flow. Taoist teachings direct us toward our own process of self-exploration, growth, and transformation which connects us deeply to ourselves and to the world around us.

Te (samyak)- The Principle of Inner Nature A central concept in Taoist thought is that of te, or samyak. This word appears in the title of the famous work by the legendary sage, Lao Tzu, the Tao Te Ching - The Power of the Way or Samyag Darshan or sameechin Dharma. Te refers to the fact that all things contain an inherent power or strength that comes from their own essential being or true inner nature. This power derives from the fact that our true self is an expression of the Tao, because it is intrinsically connected with the power of the Universe. However, the idea of te is that of power exercised without the use of force and without inappropriate interference in the existing order of things. Our conventional Western outlook is based on the assumption that humans are all separate entities, existing apart from each other and from the surrounding environment. Te, on the other hand, implies a trust and belief in one’s own inner nature and in the interconnectedness of all life.

Lao Tzu writes that "All things arise from Tao (Dharma). They are nourished by Virtue [their own inner nature]. Virtue is goodness [and] is faithfulness."

As a first step, we are asked to believe in ourselves, in our own inherent goodness, in the process that is Tao. "The great Tao flows everywhere. It nourishes the ten thousand things. It holds nothing back," Lao Tzu states, encouraging us not to give in to our doubts and fears.

As a means of developing this trust and belief in the Tao and expressing our inner nature, Lao Tzu counsels us to move beyond conventional values, those social mores and norms which tend to strengthen our view of ourselves as separate egos or selves and which are rooted in doubt and fear. These values only serve to lock us in our sense of separation and rob us of the power of our true being.

The sage tells us: Accept disgrace willingly. Accept being unimportant. Do not be concerned with loss or gain. Love the world as you love your own self. Then you can truly care for all things.

To help manifest our te, Lao Tzu gives us his "three treasures" which assist us in developing our perception of the unity of life and in cultivating a way of being that is harmonious with the Tao. The first treasure is compassion (daya), the second is frugality or balance (samata), and the third is humility (Vinaya), "daring not to be ahead of others."

In this way our te emerges. More and more we find our actions truly expressing our inner nature. More and more they are in harmony with the Tao. As our te manifests we experience ourselves as an integral part of our environment, moving effortlessly and naturally along life’s path.

Yin-Yang (Vidhi and Nished or asti and nasti) - The Principle of Harmony and Change (Dravya and Paryay) Taoism’s central organizing principle is the interconnectedness of all life with its flow of continuous change. Nowhere is this idea expressed in such a unique and exquisite manner as in the concept of yin-yang, which describes the underlying unity of life through the interplay of opposites.

Taoist writings state that all things and all processes contain two primal energies or forces. These two basic aspects of manifestation often are described as masculine and feminine, light and dark, negative and positive, creative and receptive. The original meaning of the term signified the light and dark sides of a mountain. Our common English-language expression, "there are two sides to everything," expresses this concept quite succinctly.

From a Taoist point of view, however, these two polar opposites are not seen as distinctly separate or in conflict, but rather as interdependent and complementary. In actuality, one creates the other. "Is there a difference between yes and no?", Lao Tzu, one of Taoism’s immortal sages, asks. "Is there a difference between good and evil?" His reply is that "Under heaven all can see beauty only because there is ugliness. All can know good as good only because there is evil."

Chuang Tzu, another legendary Taoist sage, states with delightful wit and humor: "Everything can be a ‘that’; everything can be a ‘this.’ Therefore, ‘that’ comes from ‘this’ and ‘this’ comes from ‘that’ - which means ‘that’ and ‘this’ give birth to one another. When there is no more separation between ‘that’ and ‘this’, it is called being one with the Tao."

These two sages are telling us is that the seeming opposites of life - the "yes" and "no," the "good" and "bad," are merely expressions of a deeper underlying unity, the connectedness that characterizes life in all its forms and processes. They advise us to not get caught in these apparent contradictions, rigidly choosing one side against the other. We are urged, rather, to perceive them in their relatedness, to experience how one grows out of the other. In so doing we can partake in the reconciling of opposites, "in blunting the sharpness and untangling the knot," as Lao Tzu states. Nature’s tendency is to constantly move to a state of harmony and balance.

The idea of change leading to harmonious balance underlines another aspect of yin-yang. These two polar forces are not static or rigidly locked in battle with one another. "That which shrinks must first expand. That which fails must first be strong. That which is cast down must first be raised." Lao Tzu is telling us that life is a process. There is constant change, one thing flowing into another, one thing becoming another. Furthermore, within this constant change is a recognizable cyclical pattern, like the alternating of day and night or the turning of the seasons. For all things there is a natural expansion and contraction, on both the most minute and grandest levels. It is the breathing pattern of life itself.

Our thinking has been dominated by a dualistic, either-or approach: either something is good, or it is bad; desirable or undesirable; someone is an ally or an enemy. We perceive experiences to be either positive or negative and we expend much energy in trying to eradicate what we consider to be negative. From a Taoist point of view, this is like trying to erase the negative current from electricity because it is not "positive."

Because we perceive ourselves as separate from others, we often find ourselves in opposition to them, locked into "this" and "that," merely because of skin color, language, or beliefs. Taking these "differences" for the way things "really are" leads to breakdowns in relating, arguing, fighting, and even killing. All because of "this" and "that." We do the same with ourselves. We dislike or disown parts of ourselves and struggle to change, not trusting that our own inner nature, as an expression of the Tao, will of its own accord move towards a harmonious balance.

"Everything can be a ‘that’; everything can be a ‘this’," Chuang Tzu writes. "Thus the sage does not bother with these distinctions, but beholds the light beyond right and wrong."

As strange as such thinking may seem to us, we can recognize that every good negotiator and mediator certainly looks beyond "right" and "wrong" in order to reconcile opposites, to "soften the glare and untangle the knot." By being yielding and receptive, by remaining in relationship with others as well as with ourselves, we learn to flow with life’s myriad of changes. Indeed, we become an agent of change ourselves, rather than resisting it while desperately clinging to one pole, one experience or perception, or the other.

"What goes up must come down," and "Every cloud has a silver lining." Our own language echoes the wisdom found within the concept of yin-yang. Bad luck becomes good luck and crisis contains the opportunity for growth. We can choose to cooperate with this complimentary set of opposites by not denying, suppressing, or struggling against unwanted discomfort or pain, but rather by accepting all facets of our existence, "good" and "bad," as the natural flow of the Tao.By following the path of acceptance and responsiveness to change we can become, in the words of Chuang Tzu, true women and men of Tao.

The true person of Tao "is not always looking for right and wrong, always deciding ‘Yes’ or ‘No’.

The true person has no mind to fight Tao and does not try by her own contriving to help Tao along. Mind free, thoughts gone, brow clear, face serene. All that comes out of him comes quiet, like the four seasons."

The Wu-Wei Principle (Knower but not Doer or akatrutva bhavana)

This unceasing flow of change manifests itself as a natural order governed by unalterable, yet perceivable laws. Paradoxically, it is the constancy of these governing principles (like the rising and setting of the sun and moon and the changing of the seasons) that allows people to recognize and utilize them in their own process of transformation. Gaining an awareness of life's essential unity and learning to cooperate with its natural flow and order enables people to attain a state of being that is both fully free and independent and at the same time fully connected to the life flow of the Universe - being at one with the Tao. From the Taoist viewpoint this represents the ultimate stage of human existence.

The writings of the legendary Taoist sages, Lao Tzu and Chuang Tzu, furnish us with specific principles as a guide to attaining this state of oneness. Through understanding these principles and applying them to daily living we may consciously become a part of life's flow.

A key principle in realizing our oneness with the Tao is that of wu-wei, or "non-doing." Wu-wei refers to behavior that arises from a sense of oneself as connected to others and to one's environment. It is not motivated by a sense of separateness. It is action that is spontaneous and effortless. At the same time it is not to be considered inertia, laziness, or mere passivity. Rather, it is the experience of going with the grain or swimming with the current. Our contemporary expression, "going with the flow," is a direct expression of this fundamental Taoist principle, which in its most basic form refers to behavior occurring in response to the flow of the Tao.

The principle of wu-wei contains certain implications. Foremost among these is the need to consciously experience ourselves as part of the unity of life that is the Tao. Lao Tzu writes that we must be quiet and watchful, learning to listen to both our own inner voices and to the voices of our environment in a non-interfering, receptive manner. In this way we also learn to rely on more than just our intellect and logical mind to gather and assess information. We develop and trust our intuition as our direct connection to the Tao. We heed the intelligence of our whole body, not only our brain. And we learn through our own experience. All of this allows us to respond readily to the needs of the environment, which of course includes ourselves. And just as the Tao functions in a manner to promote harmony and balance, our own actions, performed in the spirit of wu-wei, produce the same result.

Wu-wei also implies action that is spontaneous, natural, and effortless. As with the Tao, this behavior simply flows through us because it is the right action (Samyag Charitra), appropriate to its time and place, and serving the purpose of greater harmony and balance (samata bhavana). Chuang Tzu refers to this type of being in the world as flowing, or more poetically (and provocatively), as "purposeless wandering! (nirvikalpa samadhi)" How opposite this concept is to some of our most cherished cultural values. To have no purpose is unthinkable and even frightening, certainly anti-social and perhaps pathological in the context of modern day living. And yet it would be difficult to maintain that our current values have promoted harmony and balance, either environmentally or on an individual level. Yet, "the Tao nourishes everything," Lao Tzu writes. If we can learn to follow the Tao, practicing non-action," then nothing remains undone. This means trusting our own bodies, our thoughts and emotions, and also believing that the environment will provide support and guidance. Thus the need to develop watchfulness (samiti) and quietness of mind (samata).

In cultivating wu-wei, timing becomes an important aspect of our behavior. We learn to perceive processes in their earliest stages and thus are able to take timely action. "Deal with the small before it becomes large," is a well-known dictum from Lao Tzu.

And finally, in the words of Chuang Tzu, we learn "detachment, forgetfulness of results, and abandonment of all hope of profit." By allowing the Tao to work through us, we render our actions truly spontaneous, natural, and effortless. We thus flow with all experiences and feelings as they come and go. We know intuitively that actions which are not ego-motivated, but in response to the needs of the environment, lead toward harmonious balance and give ultimate meaning and "purpose" to our lives. Such actions are attuned to the deepest flow of life itself.

To allow wu-wei to manifest in our lives may seem like a daunting task. And yet, if we pause to reflect on our past experiences, we will recall possibly many instances when our actions were spontaneous and natural, when they arose out of the needs of the moment without thought of profit or tangible result. "The work is done and then forgotten. And so it lasts forever," writes Lao Tzu.

By listening carefully within, as well as to our surroundings, by remembering that we are part of an interconnected whole, by remaining still until action is called forth, we can perform valuable, necessary, and long-lasting service in the world while cultivating our ability to be at one with the Tao. Such is the power of wu-wei, allowing ourselves to be guided by the Tao.