Change Your Thoughts—Change Your Life

by Wayne W. Dyer

  You can also practice detaching by giving something away. Just recently, for instance, my son surprised both of us by doing just that. I was admiring a new T-shirt he’d just purchased, and he said, “Here, Dad, you like this one so much that even though it’s my favorite, I want you to have it.” It was a simple, spontaneous letting go of an attachment, and both of us felt the wealth that is the fruit of generosity.

  45th Verse

  The greatest perfection seems imperfect,

  and yet its use is inexhaustible.

  The greatest fullness seems empty,

  and yet its use is endless.

  Great straightness seems twisted.

  Great intelligence seems stupid.

  Great eloquence seems awkward.

  Great truth seems false.

  Great discussion seems silent.

  Activity conquers cold;

  inactivity conquers heat.

  Stillness and tranquility set things in order

  in the universe.

  Living Beyond

  Superficialities

  This verse subtly asks you to view the world with new eyes. Most likely you’ve been conditioned to evaluate just about everything with a cursory and fleeting glance. Here, however, Lao-tzu is asking you to stop seeing through your ego-dominated culture, and to instead begin noticing the still and tranquil invisible space within everything. When you go beyond superficialities, you become aware that what used to look imperfect, empty, awkward, or even stupid now appears perfect, full, eloquent, and intelligent.

  Your previous way of thinking about the world told you that it’s full of imperfections—the people in your life should be different, politicians should be aligned with your values, the weather should be more consistent and reliable, the multitudes should be more peaceful, young people should study harder, and older people should be more tolerant. The assessments are relentlessly endless, and they’re all based on teachings that you’ve adopted. While they may seem sensible and correct, these views are simply the result of only looking at what exists on the surface. “Hold on a minute,” this verse of the Tao Te Ching seems to say, “try looking at it this way. What seems to be imperfect has perfection, and what seems empty and false has a profound spiritual truth supporting it.”

  The paradox here is evident: Hunger does exist in the world as an element of the perfection of the Tao, and the desire to help those who are starving is also part of that perfection. You’re being asked not to label what you see as imperfect, stupid, or empty; rather, look for the stillness and tranquility within you that you can bring to these superficial appearances. When you refrain from engaging in judgments based solely on looks, you paradoxically become an instrument for change.

  Study the opening lines of this verse. What seems imperfect is nevertheless inexhaustible; what seems empty is endless. Imagine a pitcher out of which you could pour delicious iced tea without ever needing to refill. “Impossible!” you say, yet that’s precisely what the Tao does. It never, ever runs out. It never has, and it never will. It cannot be exhausted. You are asked to be like this inexhaustible, always-full Tao—be nonjudgmental, still, and above all, tranquil. Let the world and all of its creations unfold while you remain constant with the invisibleness that allows it all to take place. Allow whatever you feel deep within you in that quiet and peaceful space to guide you in the direction that is your true destiny.

  Recently I attended a talk by my friend, colleague, and mentor Ram Dass, who had a stroke in 1997 that impacted his speech. As of this writing, he still spends almost all of his waking moments in a wheelchair, and his lecture lasted approximately 45 minutes. He received a standing ovation at the end, and I personally felt so blessed and blissful by having been in the audience. There are some who might have only seen superficialities—to them, the lecture might have seemed halting and slow because of the stroke, and judged as embarrassing or even intellectually challenging. Much of my dear friend’s time onstage was silent, and it certainly appeared to be awkward in comparison to his earlier speeches, which were always masterful and eloquent. But as I sit here writing, I can only say that because I changed the way I looked at this experience, the entire thing changed for me in a very dramatic way.

  While Ram Dass’s words were few, his message was straightforward, laconic, and direct. What might have appeared as unintelligible to others struck me as brilliance masked by circumstance. What could have been viewed as fumbling was articulate and perfect in every way. I heard a great presentation to a loving, receptive crowd that was done largely between long periods of luscious silence. Throughout this lecture, all of the audience members and I 45th Verse remained still and tranquil. As Lao-tzu concludes in this 45th verse of the Tao Te Ching, it “set things in order in [our] universe.”

  I can feel the presence of Lao-tzu here this morning as I gaze at the drawing of that beautiful old man sitting on an ox. He seems to be urging me on to tell you how to apply this great wisdom, which comes from living beyond shallowness:

  See imperfections as perfect, even if your ego-mind cannot comprehend this.

  Become aware of your conditioned responses that lead you to label people, places, and circumstances as less than perfect. See the flawlessness behind the supposed defects. As I watched my children grow up, for instance, there were many times when their challenging behavior at a certain age was really a kind of brilliance. For example, I observed them refusing to eat certain nutritious foods, knowing that they needed to go through these phases in order to reach higher places. An adamant refusal to eat vegetables isn’t stupid or twisted thinking—it was perfect and necessary for them at the time. You can apply this same kind of patient stillness to your world. Inch by inch, we evolve as a people toward a fuller union with the Tao.

  One of history’s great mystical thinkers, Meister Eckhart, poetically put it this way several centuries ago:

  Every object, every creature, every man, woman and child has a soul and it is the destiny of all,

  to see as God sees, to know as God knows,

  to feel as God feels, to Be

  as God

  Is.

  Give yourself permission to be perfect, even with

  all of your seeming imperfections.

  Recognize yourself first and foremost as a creation of God, which is your perfection. It has nothing to do with how you look or any so-called mistakes or failures you may have attracted to yourself, even though these superficialities will continue throughout your entire lifetime in this body. The Source of your material self, the eternal Tao, is flawless, straight, full, and an expression of truth. When those ways that you’ve been taught are imperfect appear and you notice the pain you’re causing yourself by disliking or judging them, call in your Tao-perfect self to tend to the so-called faults. When you surround it with love, the superficial appearance and feeling of being unloved will become tranquil.

  The 13th-century mystical poet Rumi sums this up perfectly in this short observation:

  You are the truth

  from foot to brow. Now,

  what else would you like to know?

  Do the Tao Now

  Make a list of ten things you’ve labeled as imperfect, twisted, or stupid. Then take one at a time and elicit the feeling in your body that’s attached to that item. Allow the sensation to be observed and to be held in your thoughts from a perspective of loving permission. Do this for as long as you’re comfortable, allowing the “Tao now!” to be present. Remember as you do this exercise that the Tao is nonjudgmental and provides equally to all. You can take the sunshine and bask in it, or you can burn yourself to a crisp. The Tao just is, and it doesn’t care!

  46th Verse

  When the world has the Way,

  running horses are retired to till the fields.

  When the world lacks the Way,

  warhorses are bred in the countryside.

  There is no greater loss than losing the Tao,

  no greater curse than covetousness,

&nb
sp; no greater tragedy than discontentment;

  the worst of faults is wanting more—always.

  Contentment alone is enough.

  Indeed, the bliss of eternity

  can be found in your contentment.

  Living Peacefully

  If you’re presently evaluating your level of achievement based on how much you’ve accumulated, prepare to sense a major shift in your state of personal satisfaction and contentment. Verse 46 of the Tao Te Ching invites you to discover a more peaceful and self-satisfying way of knowing success—and as your determination to acquire more begins to weaken, your new views will change the world you’ve known. You’ll find that the experience of inner peace becomes your true gauge of accomplishment.

  This 46th verse begins with a look at what happens when a planet loses its connection to the Way. Countries begin needing to conquer more territory . . . and in their quest for more land, power, and control over others, they must constantly prepare for war. Lao-tzu speaks symbolically of horses here: When connected to the Tao, the animals fertilize the fields; when disconnected from it, the beautiful creatures are bred for war.

  In a modern translation of the Tao Te Ching, my friend Stephen Mitchell interprets this message in present-day terms:

  When a country is in harmony with the Tao,

  the factories make trucks and tractors.

  When a country goes counter to the Tao,

  warheads are stockpiled outside the cities.

  It’s painfully obvious that our world has largely lost contact with the Way as described by Lao-tzu. These days so much of our energy is placed on breeding warhorses at the expense of using our resources to fertilize our fields so that we can live in peace. The United States is chock-full of weapons of mass destruction, and we continually legislate more funding to make our weapons so menacing that they’re capable of rendering our entire planet uninhabitable. The “disease of more” has created an environment that personifies Lao-tzu’s observation that there is “no greater tragedy than discontentment.” But even if so many of our Divine selves seem to be engulfed by the flames of unease, you can begin the process of putting Lao-tzu’s advice to work.

  When you truly understand what it means to live peacefully, satisfaction will begin to replace your desire for more. Your world will begin to become tranquil as you change your own life and then touch the lives of your immediate family, your neighbors, your coworkers, and ultimately your nation and the entire planet. Begin by simply thinking of the opening line of the famous Prayer of Saint Francis when you notice that you’re demanding more of anything.

  Silently say, Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace; where there is hatred, let me sow love. As that instrument of peace, you’ll radiate tranquility to those in your immediate surroundings, and you’ll feel the flicker of a new and different success in contentment, perhaps for the first time in your life. By refusing to lose the Tao, regardless of how lost others are and what our world’s governments elect to do, you’re living harmoniously. Your connection to the Tao will make a difference, gradually inching Earth away from the precipice of discontentment that Lao-tzu called “no greater tragedy.”

  The sublime Hafiz beautifully sums up the kind of success I’m referring to in his poem “Would You Think it Odd?”:

  Would you think it odd if Hafiz said,

  “I am in love with every church

  And mosque

  And temple

  And any kind of shrine

  Because I know it is there

  That people say the different names

  Of the One God.”

  Getting back to Lao-tzu, here are his messages from the powerful 46th verse that are applicable today in your personal life:

  Practice gratitude and contentment every day.

  When your feet hit the floor every single morning, without exception, say, “Thank You for an opportunity to live in a state of contentment.” Invite the magical energy of the Tao to freely flow through you and inform your responses throughout the day. You’re in harmony with your Source when you’re soliciting gratitude and gratification in these ways.

  Be one with your nature.

  In a world that seems to produce more and more violence, become a person who chooses to be an instrument of peace. Let your nature be the “horses” that are bred to till the fields, feed the hungry, and offer comfort to the lame or less fortunate. Live as if you and the Tao are one, which of course you are when you’re in your natural state.

  When enough of us are able to do this, we’ll reach a critical mass, and eventually the Great Way will surpass the demands of the ego. I truly believe, to use a baseball analogy, that nature always “bats last.”

  Do the Tao Now

  Set aside time to make a conscious effort to send peaceful energy to someone or some group whom you think of as the enemy. Include a competitor; an alienated family member; a person of a different religious persuasion; or those you oppose in a government, political party, or disagreement. Then literally send something to them if that feels okay to you, such as a flower, a book, or a letter. Begin your conscious effort today, right now, to surrender to the Tao and know authentic success, which has no separation.

  47th Verse

  Without going out the door,

  know the world.

  Without looking out the window,

  you may see the ways of heaven.

  The farther one goes, the less one knows.

  Therefore the sage does not venture forth and yet knows, does not look and yet names, does not strive and yet attains completion.

  Living by Being

  I encourage you to change your belief that effort and striving are necessary tools for success. In verse 47, Lao-tzu suggests that these are ways of being that keep you from experiencing the harmony and attaining the completion that’s offered by the Tao. Living by being instead of trying is a different viewpoint; as Lao-tzu states, you can see and accomplish more by not looking out the window.

  How is this possible? Let’s look at an example to clarify this conundrum. I’d like you to place all of your attention on one of God’s greatest creations. I’m referring to your heart, that always-beating, mysterious chunk of arteries, vessels, muscle, and blood that you carry with you wherever you go. It continually maintains its thump, thump, thump without your trying to make it beat, even while you sleep. You don’t make it thump away—even without your conscious attention, it works as perfectly as the ocean does. Its continuous beat is even reminiscent of waves on the sea’s surface.

  Your heart is indeed a thing of wonder as it delivers life itself; it is essentially you. That organ in your chest is a model for understanding and applying the lesson of living by being. Your heart attains completion (your life) by not venturing forth, looking beyond its chest cavity, or striving. As you sit here reading these words right now, it’s keeping you alive just by being, and you don’t even feel it.

  I’d like you to think of your entire self as a heart that already knows exactly what to do by virtue of its very nature. That is, you don’t have to go anywhere to know the world because you already are the world. The moment you attempt to control the beating of your own heart, you realize the futility of such an effort. No amount of trying or striving will make any difference, for your heart operates by its natural connection to the Tao, which does nothing but leaves nothing undone.

  Michael LaTorra points this out in his commentary on this verse in A Warrior Blends with Life:

  As the wisest of sages have always realized, the root of essential being is in the heart, especially in the heart-beat mechanism. From here, the radiance of essential being spirals upward to illuminate the head. This mechanism lies beyond any technology. You already inhabit it. . . . And through deep feelings (rather than superficial emotions) you can connect with it immediately. . . . The ultimate act that enlightens involves no action at all.

  So now you know that the paradoxical state Lao-tzu describes in this verse is not only possible, but
it’s actually taking place everywhere right now, in billions of human hearts. The further reality is that this is true for the hearts of all creatures, as well as the life system of every tree, flower, bush, and even mineral on Earth. And this is only one planet in a universe that contains so many heavenly bodies that counting them is so far beyond our ability that we can’t even devise calculators to undertake such a task.

  The 21st century is often called “the information age”: We live in a time when there’s more data available on tiny computer chips than ever before in human history. We can also easily see that our efforts do indeed bring us more facts and the like. In fact, you may be one of the computer wizards whose greater efforts have made all of this possible. What’s at issue here is the relationship of information to knowledge and wisdom.

  Let’s take apart the very name of this era—information—to explain what I mean. When you stay “in-form” (in your body and the material world), you’re rewarded with information. But move beyond form (transform to spirit) and you’ll receive inspiration. Thus, information is not always knowledge, and knowledge is not always wisdom. Wisdom connects you to your heart in your waking moments; it is the Tao at work. Lao-tzu is asking you to recognize the difference 47th Verse between striving for more facts and being in the world that is complete as it is. As you live from this perspective of wisdom or connection to the Tao, the world looks so very different.