The commentary below is for entry 108 out of 158 from “My Travels with Lieh Tzu,” which I wrote in July 1995 after moving to Florida.
At the time, I was studying “The Book of Lieh Tzu” and creating my own updated version, retelling the stories as if there was more to be said. That we are not meant to lose sight of something important before returning home.
I was writing as though I was being guided and aimed to let the content flow naturally, presenting the narrative as history might have unfolded as they might have seen things into how we might know them today. To what the storyteller would say there is more to the story needing to be told.
This chapter sets itself apart by showcasing Lieh Tzu’s influence, emphasizing how we often perceive the world through the lens of personal gain. It’s through recognizing the contrast between actions that bring good or harm that we begin to move past our own perceived needs and consider the needs of others. I often wonder what inspires us to shift our perspective on our role in nature and the world around us. What is it that allows our eternal spirit to express itself in a positive and meaningful way.
To what hidden memories lie dormant within us, long forgotten? Why do we fear death when it’s simply a return home, a chance to reflect on who we were this time around?
Thinking of our spirit as eternal, what was the role we were meant to fulfill and play in this lifetime?
Were we meant to drift through it, watching Wheel of Fortune, imagining ourselves in the winner’s circle? While we sat on the couch only dreaming of going there. Sitting on the couch becomes a metaphor for watching our lives pass us by, and it raises the question: are we already dead or are we here only passing time until we discover and remember who we are to our authentic selves, to nature, and to history?
More importantly, are we living and dying only to find ourselves stuck in a loop, like the movie Groundhog Day, repeating the same life until we choose to wake up? This is why reconnecting with our memories and discovering our purpose feels so vital and transformative. Why the life of Jane Goodall became a reminder and bell weather to our own renewal as universal spirit. Throughout history, we can see how and why achieving what we refer to as transcendence has been so significant.
Sadly, we often see the world as beginning only when we showed up. That nothing of significance existed before us and nothing will matter after we’re gone. Yang Chu’s notion of living for the moment becomes the only reality we embrace, as it’s easier than considering anything beyond that. As if living in the moment becomes the ultimate paradox we live for.
Nearly three thousand years ago, during China’s Warring States Period, these ideas were first articulated, exploring how to define terms, understand our roles in society, recognize the roles of others, and determine how we should govern ourselves. Sometimes I can’t help but think we haven’t learned anything in the interim… and what ever happened to our memories that seem to be so long ago forgotten.
My travels with Lieh Tzu / Interpolations along the Way
Chapter Seven – Yang Chu
108. Are we destined to die today?
Yang Chu asks:
“Who among us is not destined to die?” No matter how different things are in life, in death are not they all the same? In life can it matter if we are clever or foolish, noble, or vile? When in death we all return to stench, decay, and extinction. Reminding us again that we are all the same.
However, as we are reminded of endeavor and destiny, we recall that whether we are clever or foolish, noble, or vile none can be of our own doing. Just as the stench and rot, decay and extinction cannot be of our own making either. Therefore, how do we bring about our own life and death, cleverness or foolishness, nobility, or vileness? As we are equal with all other living things, do not each bring these characteristics along for the ride for themselves? Since we all will die, some in ten years, some in eighty, some tomorrow, some today.
Saints and sages die, the wicked and foolish die. So how are they so different? In life do we not simply take on another personality? Just as in death we become rotting bones. Since rotting bones are all the same, who can tell them apart?”
Mistaking purity and passion for virtue, do not our desires become the substitute for correct behavior? Where can happiness lie if one’s poverty injures his life, or another’s wealth involves him in trouble? Is not the answer to free ourselves of care?
Hence, those who are poor should enjoy life and those who are good at freeing themselves from care do not become rich.
Yang Chu concludes by asserting an old saying that says:
“Each of us should pity the living and abandon the dead.
This is exactly put. To pity others is not to simply feel sorry for them. We should help them, so they are eased. Feed them so they are not hungry, clothe them when they are cold and when they are troubled help them find the way.
Just in abandoning the dead, we do not refuse to feel sorrow, nor should we plan elaborate funeral processions. In the end are we not all the same? Are we rich or poor, what can it matter? Who can know, who can say? What can it matter if we are destined to die today?” 7/2/95
Number one hundred eight of one hundred fifty-eight entries.

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