Next to Confucianism, the most important stream in Chinese thought is Taoism (pronounced with a "d" rather than "t" sound and also spelled as Doaism). It was in large part a philosophy of retreat and withdrawal on the part of thinkers who were appalled by perpetual warfare, instability, and death and so turned away from the struggle for power, status, and wealth. In the face of infinite time and space, they accepted the unimportance of individuality except as human beings are individual manifestations of vast cosmic forces. This philosophy constituted a protest of common men against the growing despotism of rulers. It also expressed the rebellion of the very uncommon man of intellect or sensitivity against the growing rigidity of the moralists, who were following in the footsteps of Confucius. Where both the moralists and the rulers sought to bring men into conformity with social patterns, the Taoists stoutly championed the independence of each individual, whose only concern, they maintained, should be to fit into the great pattern of nature. This was the Tao, literally the "Road" or "Way," a term used by Confucius to describe the social system he advocated but given a metaphysical interpretation in Taoism.
Some scholars have associated early Taoism with the state of Ch'u in the Yangtze Valley, suggesting that it may represent an enrichment of Chinese thought derived in part from "barbarian" sources. Its attempt to fit human life into nature's rhythms may also represent a philosophical expression of the interest of the early Chinese in nature deities, fertility and the ruler's role as mediator between nature and man. Taoist mysticism, which may have been at the core of the movement, might also have derived from the early shamans. The latter, through self-induced trances, had communicated directly with the spirits; the Taoists, through "sitting and forgetting" and "fasts of the mind," experienced trance-like ecstasies in which they achieved the state of the "true man" and directly apprehended the oneness of the universe. Such practices may have been influenced by Indian yoga, for the Taoists, like the Indians, emphasized breathing exercises
Our chief knowledge of Taoism of the Zhou period is derived from three books of unknown authorship and somewhat doubtful date. The most venerated of these is the Lao-tzu or Tao te ching (The Classic of the Way and Power.) It is a composite text, probably dating from the third century B.C., though attributed to a presumably mythical sage known as Lao-tzu, or the "Old Master," whose traditional dates have been fixed to give him a slight edge in seniority over Confucius. Terse and cryptic in style, the Tao te ching has given itself to diverse interpretations by later Chinese, thinkers and a startling variety of translations into Western languages.
The second text is the Chuang-tzu, also probably of the third century B.C. but attributed to a man of this name of the late fourth century. Consisting of parables, metaphors, and poetic passages, it is a work of high literary merit and represents the most important formulation of early Taoist thought. The third work, the Lieh-tzu which in content and style is much like the Chuang-tzu is variously attributed to the same period or to the third century A.D.
The Taoists found it difficult to express their basic ideas in words. As they said, "The one who knows does not speak, and the one who speaks does not know." The Tao is founded on a nameless, formless "Non- being" which is, in essence, the totality of the natural processes. Despite constant flux the Tao is unitary, having no distinctions of big or little, good or bad, life or death. The relativity of all things and the dependence of any quality on its opposite are constant Taoist themes. As they say, "Water, which is life to fish, is death to man," and "It is only because everyone recognizes beauty as beauty that we have the idea of ugliness."
The man who can transcend mundane human distinctions and become one with the Tao is "beyond all harm" and achieves "tranquillity in the midst of strife." The key to merging with the Tao is wu-wei or "doing nothing." By this the Taoists did not mean complete inaction but rather doing what comes naturally: "Do nothing and nothing will be not done." If left to itself, the universe proceeds smoothly according to its own harmonies. Man's efforts to change or improve nature only destroy these harmonies and produce chaos. There is a knack to all spontaneous accomplishment which conscious effort only mars. The sage knows no ambition and therefore experiences no failure. He does not even attempt to teach others. By this criterion, our Taoist authors are themselves clearly imperfect.
The Taoists were sufficiently in tune with the prevailing interests of the day to draw their own picture of a perfect society. Like ocher Chinese philosophers, they looked back to a golden age, but for them this past was a time of perfect knowledge, before the ancients even realized that "things had come into existence," much less had recognized the "distinction" between things or reached the consequent expression of "approval and disapproval." The concept of good and bad and the embodiment of this concept in rituals, they felt, were the real sources of human misery. The Confucian sages thus were the unwitting villains of history. The virtues they had invented were the reasons for the existence of vice. Law was the source of crime; without wealth there could be no stealing.
Primitivity was the ideal of the Taoists. Knowledge can only corrupt. In the Chuang-tzu we find the parable of Primitivity, whose two friends, Change and Uncertainty, decided to give him the usual seven apertures that are needed for seeing, hearing breathing, and eating; this they did with success, boring one a day, but Primitivity died in the process. The Taoists laud the peasant who, though he knew of the water wheel, chose to carry water up from a well on his back, realizing that ingenious devices would lead to a devious mind. The political ideal of the Taoists was a small state from which the cocks and dogs of a nearby state could be heard, but whose people were so content that none had ever bothered to visit this neighboring village. Over such a primitive, passive society the Taoist sage would rule, without effort and without benevolence, accomplishing everything by doing nothing.
Taoism, as a school of philosophy, suffered serious criticism in later centuries, but its basic attitudes remained strong throughout Chinese history. It formed a part of the Han Synthesis for how government should operate. It obviously supplied things which otherwise were weak or lacking in Chinese society. Growing political conformity and heavy Confucian morality were not conducive to aesthetic expression. The Chinese, however, have always had a strong aesthetic urge, which the individual freedom of Taoism and its mystical union with nature encouraged. Chinese artists and poets, however closely identified with the Confucian tradition, have usually been Taoists at heart.
Taoism, in fact, has served as an admirable balance to the dominant concepts of Chinese culture. The centralization of power placed sharp limits on human freedom; Confucian morality and insistence on social conformity were even more restrictive. But in Taoism the individual could achieve self expression; his intellect was free to wander at will. Since neither Confucianism nor Taoism were jealously exclusive religions in the Western sense, the individual and even the whole of society could be Confucian and Taoist at the same time, achieving perhaps a healthier psychological balance on these two bases than could have been achieved on only one. The man in power was usually a Confucian positivist, seeking to save society. The same man out of power became a Taoist quietest, intent on blending with nature around him. The active bureaucrat of the morning became the dreamy poet or nature lover of the evening. This balanced dualism in philosophy and in personality has persisted until the modern day.
Today we can see the principles of Taoism in views of traditional medicine. For Chinese, there are five basic elements that the forces of Tao work upon.
These forces then become central to understanding the human body itself. Accupuncture is based on a theory of relationships that can be associated with this sense of elements and body parts. To control your appetite, accupuncture can be done on your ear directly affecting how much you feel like you want to eat. Emotions can be related to things that seem to have no relationship such as anger to wood or joy to fire. This is all part of the mytique of how Chinese view the world and a legacy of the sense of Taoism that Lao-Tzu shaped.
