Becoming a conveyer of spirit, we learn that spirit has no national borders or single language, except the one spoken through love. It’s the ever-changing intention of the universe and distant galaxies, reaching beyond what we can know. Spirit is everywhere—in nature, in the air we breathe, and in every moment we experience. 
No one can own it only for themselves, as it’s the timeless essence that reflects the highest hopes of all existence. just as the true spirit of Christmas is meant to reside in all of us every day.
It’s what newly forming galaxies are working on all the time. We cannot claim the spirit of any other person, place, or thing and one is not better than another. Our purpose, like everything in nature, is to connect with what has always been within us—a timeless drive to live once more to embody and embrace this eternal spirit.
An ancient tale about the nature of the universe tells us that what’s truly unchanging and eternal isn’t the individual body or mind, but a shared consciousness connecting all existence—something we call spirit. This stillness, always present yet ever evolving, can’t be defined because it simply exists. Since it can’t be defined, it’s considered unknown for that very reason. Just as others might catch glimpses of who we are, they can never know the whole story. We’re here to keep revising, shaping the next chapter that will always remain unknowable. If we knew, perhaps out of change or fear, we might choose not to go there.
This wisdom appears in both Buddhist and Hindu traditions and also underpins many Indigenous beliefs. Blending elements of early Taoist and Buddhist thought, the Lingbao tradition reimagines enlightenment as radiant harmony with nature and the Tao and freedom through transformation. We’ll be exploring the Lingbao tradition in the future.
It is this transformation that Ralph Waldo Emerson was speaking of when he coined the term transcendentalism. Transcending our mortal selves to acknowledge our role as spirit. 
We often hear the phrase that “we are simply spiritual beings having a human existence”. My role seems to be as an editor of ancient or older philosophy and thought that predates the present moment.
It feels like a window to universal thought has opened, and my role is simply that of a storyteller and writer. There are voices from the past with more to share about what is timeless and what will contribute to their own immortality, reminding us of our responsibility to tell the stories of others as much as our own.
The final few entries here of the commentary of The Book of Lieh Tzu that I call “My travels with Lieh Tzu” signal a reframing of what I want to write about. Below is entry number one hundred fifty-five of one hundred fifty-eight that completes my review of the writing of Lieh Tzu. When I complete these entries, I will begin another review and commentary of the book I wrote in 2000 that was publishing China in 2006 that was my interpretation of Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching.
Stories from the past tell us that rather than retreating from the world, we are meant to refine body, mind, and spirit through virtue, meditation, and internal improvement. Each stage deepens awareness and dissolves ego boundaries, leading to effortless action (wú wéi) and unity. Enlightenment as Emerson reminds us of becomes not an escape but a luminous way of living in natural accord with the cosmos.
My travels with Lieh Tzu / Interpolations along the Way
Chapter Eight – Explaining Conjunctions
155. Two for the Road
Two men were vagabonds commonly known to roam the streets begging for food. One a poor man in Chi and the second a man from Sung. The man from Chi, whose name was Hen Lo, could always be seen at the city market. He would go from stall-to-stall begging vendors for just enough food to get him by that day. 
Soon everyone at the marketplace became wary and tired of seeing Hen Lo begging for each day’s meal and stopped giving him food. Hen Lo had detested his life as a beggar and often told others he wished to find a job.
The other man, who was from Sung, was not just a common beggar. But was the son of a rich merchant whose mental handicap so embarrassed his family they could do nothing with him, so they allowed him to roam the streets. They knew that he would not harm anyone and if he got hungry could find his way back home.
Hen Lo tired of going hungry and wanting to beg no more, went to the stables of the Tien family and made a living as a horse doctor’s servant. He only worked for two meals a day and a corner of the barn to sleep each night, but it was far above what he had been doing, and he certainly hated to beg. People coming to the stables would make fun of him and say:
“Don’t you think it a disgrace to be kept by a horse doctor?”
Hen Lo responded: “There is nothing in the world more disgraceful than to beg. If even begging did not disgrace me, how can I be disgraced by a horse doctor.” 
In the meantime, the man who had been turned out due to his handicap and the seeming disgrace caused to his family was walking in the street and picked up a half tally, some insignificant change someone had dropped. He took it home and stored it away, just as he had seen his father do with his own money. He became quite contented, and he was no longer a nuisance to his family.
As he sat up in his room counting the indentations on the broken edge outlining its worth, he became convinced that he would become rich any day now. How could these two vagabonds who simply wanted to be accepted for who they were, be that different from the rest of us? 9/4/95
Number one hundred fifty-five of one hundred fifty-eight entries.
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