Men and women who live by faith embrace eternity. When I first heard this, I thought of the timeless sense of presence that comes with truly discovering one’s purpose. It’s not something to announce or seek attention for, but something found in quiet solitude and tranquility—a place where the spirit resides. In our hearts we know that place but following spirit can be a funny thing. We often get lost in our attachments, actions and thoughts that prove to be only a distraction.
I want to revisit a discussion I had earlier about something called “Techniques of the Way” and how applying this basic premise can be both enlightening and significant. Following spirit, or what we might call spirituality, doesn’t require 
viewing things outside ourselves as something defined as “faith.” Faith is universal, and its alignment doesn’t belong to any single place.
Faith grows within us when we open our hearts to love something beyond what we think we know. We may come from different paths—Christian, Jewish, Buddhist, Muslim, Indigenous traditions, or others—but what truly matters is the love we hold in our hearts for ourselves and others.
I do find great wisdom and guidance in ancient texts, and I encourage others look beyond what they think they know to what may surface when they discover what they may have always known and perhaps forgotten.
Living with eternity in mind becomes the first lesson we are here to learn with none greater than the other. It is as the song said… “we are the world; we are the children…” I like to think that we are all “Techniques of the Way”.
How do we come to cultivate a sense of equilibrium and impartiality except through seeing patterns as only what may be called transformations and see their underlying natures? As observers and students of the innate nature of our environment we can learn to govern ourselves both appropriately and effectively. Take a moment to step back and view the world as the cosmos might, seeing nature as something to nurture and protect. When we think this way, we can recognize that everything has its own unique traits and purposes. Faith isn’t just a single concept or something exclusive to humans.
Observe the elephants as they search for water and care for their young, the wolfpack traveling with the old and young safely shielded in the middle, or the beavers constructing dams to safeguard the watershed. Notice how trees nurture and protect one another underground. The examples are countless. Why should humans be any exception? We are part of this world; it was never meant to exist just for us. This is the essence of Taoism—not as a religion, but as a belief in a way of life.
From the beginning the shamans taught us that everything in nature is meant to flourish, grow and thrive. 
This belief became the foundation of Eastern philosophy, emphasizing that nature’s purpose extends beyond merely serving mankind. What remains eternal is where we find ourselves.
Having faith is not dependent on what we may call religious teachings unless they convey the way for all things not just a few. Reminding us that spirit is universally found in all living things. They may serve as a beneficial path but not the ultimate way of our spirit. That depends on what resides in our own heart.
My travels with Lieh Tzu / Interpolations along the Way
Chapter Five – The Questions of T’ang
85. Artificial Intelligence
There was a craftsman named Yen‑Shih who made something that appeared to be a man made of leather, wood, glue, and lacquer. On close examination on the inside the liver, gall bladder, heart, lungs, spleen, kidneys, intestines, and stomach and on the outside the muscles, bones, limbs, joints, skin, teeth, and hair were all artificial but complete without exception.
While King Mu was traveling through the countryside, he was introduced to the craftsman Yen‑Shih, who asked to show the king his invention. He was invited to return the next day and was asked who the man was that he had brought with him. Yen‑Shih responded that it was simply something he had made that could do tricks.
The king looked at it in amazement; it was striding quickly, looking up and down, undoubtedly it was a man. When the craftsman pushed its cheek, it sang a tune; when he clasped its hand it danced in time; it did innumerable tricks. Whatever it pleased the king to ask. The king really thought it was a man and watched it with his favorite concubine Song‑chi and the rest of his entourage.
As the show was about to end the man doing all the tricks winked at the concubine in waiting to the king’s left and right making the king furious. In his fury he ordered Yen‑Shih executed right then and there. Terrified, the craftsman began taking apart the contraption showing that it was not real. That it was just bits and pieces that he had put together. He then put it back together and it was the same as before. The king tried taking out its heart and the mouth could not speak, tried taking out the liver and the eyes could not see, tried taking out the kidneys and the feet could not walk. With this the king was finally satisfied.
The king then questioned whether it was within man’s capacity to recreate that of the Creator, had the apparatus loaded into his second car and took it with him. When others heard of the artificial man they could only stop and wonder. Hearing of such immense talent the great men of the day could only bow and stoop to lesser things.
About this time, it was said that Pan Shu had made a ladder by which he could mount to the sky and reach the heights of heaven, while his friend Mo Ti made a wooden kite that could stay aloft for three days. Many who knew them considered then great philosophers of their time. After hearing the mechanical man of Yen Shih, they never again would boast of such prowess. Instead, they decided to leave such skill to greater men.
5/28/95
Number eighty-five of one hundred fifty-eight entries
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