Welcome to "Jammin on the Tao," an esoteric and playful series about all things Taoist (Daoist).
In this episode, we discover that the Tao is the primordial essence from which all things arise and to which they ultimately return. To seek and unite with this original source, we must release judgments and cast aside preconceived notions, uncovering clarity within the shadows and drawing strength from yielding. Thus, we unveil the path to eternity.
We ask you to join in on the conversation by commenting and sharing if our perspectives resonates or doesn't and ask you to also share your perspective. Let's connect!
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EPISODE TRANSCRIPT
Welcome back to another Tao te Ching reading with myself, Mark, and Adam. And we are here today to read and interpret number 52 of the Tao te Ching. I'm reading from a James Legge translation number 52.
1. (The Tâo) which originated all under the sky is to be considered as the mother of them all.
2. When the mother is found, we know what her children should be. When one knows that he is his mother's child, and proceeds to guard (the qualities of) the mother that belong to him, to the end of his life he will be free from all peril.
3. Let him keep his mouth closed, and shut up the portals (of his nostrils), and all his life he will be exempt from laborious exertion. Let him keep his mouth open, and (spend his breath) in the promotion of his affairs, and all his life there will be no safety for him.
4. The perception of what is small is (the secret of) clear-sightedness; the guarding of what is soft and tender is (the secret of) strength.
5. Who uses well his light,
Reverting to its (source so) bright,
Will from his body ward all blight,
And hides the unchanging from men's sight.
The passage begins with the line: “The Tao, which originated all under the sky, is to be considered as the mother of them all.”
This theme of the Mother is profound. There's a strong sense of matrilineal inheritance here. It points not only to the Tao but also to the lived experience of being one's mother's child and carrying her qualities. It evokes the idea of receiving attributes from the mother, perhaps even choosing certain ones in a pre-incarnate state. This idea of inheritance, of carrying something sacred from the Mother, is central.
The text also introduces the concept of guarding this inheritance. It feels like we're tasked with protecting the soft, the tender—what’s subtle and sacred. The Tao is positioned as something we inherit and must protect. Doing so keeps us connected to that original source.
The passage ends with an intriguing line:
“Who uses well his light, reverting to its source so bright, will from his body ward all blight and hides the unchanging from men's sight.”
This "unchanging" is the Tao—eternal and luminous. While the Tao is inherently about change and flow, as reflected in the Book of Changes, there’s also a sense of a constant behind it all. Perhaps this unchanging element is Source—the eternal aspect from which all things arise. The Tao, then, contains both changing and unchanging qualities.
When someone channels the Tao, they bring forth light from this eternal source. Yet most people only perceive the changing, outer expressions. They miss the root—the Source energy behind it. This feels like a call to recognize the eternal moving through temporal forms. The unchanging is hidden in plain sight.
Another striking section speaks to the breath:
“Let him keep his mouth closed, and shut up the portals (of his nostrils), and all his life he will be exempt from laborious exertion. Let him keep his mouth open, and (spend his breath) in the promotion of his affairs, and all his life there will be no safety for him.”
This is curious. It seems to point to the inward path, refraining from outward effort, including excessive breath or speech. In Qigong, breath bridges the physical and non-physical, the Earth and the Heavens. Ancient texts like The Secret of the Flower of Life describe breathing so quietly that it makes no sound, even internally. This level of inner stillness is incredibly difficult to attain.
Perhaps this teaching is about cultivating such deep stillness that even the act of breathing does not disturb the inner state. It cautions against engaging too much with the external—speaking, breathing out, exerting—because safety doesn’t lie there. The outer world, filled with distraction and desire, pulls us away from the center.
Instead, it calls us inward. Not only through meditation but through the simple act of pausing and perceiving, without judgment or reliance on the senses. It’s an invitation to use other ways of knowing: our inner senses, our intuitive perception.
The passage says:
“The perception of what is small is (the secret of) clear-sightedness; the guarding of what is soft and tender is (the secret of) strength.”
This echoes the Taoist principle of yielding. The soft overcomes the hard. The feminine, the Mother, is not weak but strong. When we understand ourselves as the child of the Mother, and we guard her qualities within us, we remain free from peril.
This isn’t necessarily about our biological mothers. It’s about the archetypal, collective Mother—Mother Earth, Mother Nature. In contrast to Father Sky or Father Time, the feminine holds the inward, the subtle, the eternal. The masculine expresses the outward, the vast, the temporal. The smallness, the stillness, holds great power.
The Stephen Mitchell translation offers this:
In the beginning was the Tao.
All things issue from it;
all things return to it.
To find the origin,
trace back the manifestations.
When you recognize the children
and find the mother,
you will be free of sorrow.
If you close your mind in judgements
and traffic with desires,
your heart will be troubled.
If you keep your mind from judging
and aren't led by the senses,
your heart will find peace.
Seeing into darkness is clarity.
Knowing how to yield is strength.
Use your own light
and return to the source of light.
This is called practicing eternity.
This translation brings clarity and echoes the essence of the more poetic, esoteric version. Through our discussion, the layers begin to unfold. The contradictions within the text invite us deeper, asking us to sit with them and feel into their meaning.
Ultimately, this teaching reminds us of the sacred value in turning inward, in cultivating our own energy field, and in guarding what is soft and tender. It calls us back to Source, to the unchanging within the changing, and urges us to practice eternity, here and now.