無為 wúwéi is an ancient Chinese concept basically meaning inaction or effortless action. I encountered this concept a few years ago when reading the works of Zhuangzi and Laozi, but I think I only understood it on an intellectual level and was not able to find a way to connect it to my life. My understanding of the concept is essentially that ‘effortless action’ is action while being mentally at peace – doing what is natural without needing to think, and not acting if the decision causes mental turmoil. I suppose the same (or similar) concept can be found in many different philosophical traditions, such as the Christian teaching to not worry and put faith in God.
So don’t worry about these things, saying, ‘What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?’ These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers, but your heavenly Father already knows all your needs. Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need.
So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.
Matthew 6:31-34 NLT
In some way this type of action is both natural and unnatural for me because on one hand, I’m often spontaneous and enjoy doing things for fun without much thought, but on the other hand, I may at times be excessively analytical and try to fit everything fit neatly into my logical framework, and then use that framework to make future decisions. Spending time trying to make everything ‘make sense’ sometimes results in engaging in a lot of analysis before taking action, which stirs up my thoughts and feelings and makes any decision difficult.
Last night after finishing a run, I suddenly made a connection between ‘effortless action’ and my life. I realized that the way I approach interpersonal relationships is not productive because I focus too much on efficiency; I have a habit of deciding early-on whether I would like to continue spending my time on being friends with someone or not, without really giving it a chance. It’s as if I pressure myself to make a decision rather than just letting things unfold without pressure. In this aspect of my life, I basically go against the flow rather than with it and make the process very complicated.
Many times people have told me to just do what comes naturally without thinking too much. While this may have been good advice, unless this advice came from someone I really respect and included some sort of further reasoning (which it never did), I usually would disregard this advice as somewhat patronizing or overly simplistic. While I initially thought that perhaps this response to people’s advice is just due to my arrogance, upon further examination, I still think that to accept advice from someone without considering the source is a foolish decision.
This leads me to conclude that a balance must be found – while it may be good to be able to act naturally and without thought, if this comes with the inability to think critically, when necessary, it is a shortcoming overall. However, being overly critical and attached to your own thinking is equally unfavorable.
If you use your mind to study reality, you won’t understand either your mind or reality. If you study reality without using your mind, you’ll understand both. Those who don’t understand, don’t understand understanding. And those who understand, understand not understanding. People capable of true vision know that the mind is empty. They transcend both understanding and not understanding. The absence of both understanding and not understanding is true understanding.
The Zen Teaching of Bodhidharma
This quote by Bodhidharma (as translated by Red Pine) is one of my favorites, and brings me into a state of peace every time I read it – well, maybe not the first few times because I had a hard time figuring it out the first few times I read the book. My “understanding” of the quote is that the only true understanding we can have is that which comes without using the mind, and is separate from the concepts of ‘understanding’ and ‘not understanding.’ Understanding that we don’t (and can never) understand with our minds is true understanding, similar to the Socratic paradox, “I know that I know nothing.”
This somewhat reminds me of the linguistic skepticism present in Zhuangzi (the book named after the person). Zhuangzi seemed to believe that language is not able to accurately communicate ‘the way’ or ‘truth.’ Basically he seems to suggest that words and their meanings are not fixed – every person has a different perspective and, therefore, all of their knowledge and the related words are influenced by that perspective. Therefore, regardless of how clearly or concisely we communicate, the meaning we intend will necessarily be different from the meaning interpreted by the other, and there is no way to overcome this. This relates to the above Bodhidharma quote because it seems to makes sense that if we use words and language to understand things, and then think we have some form of ‘true’ understanding, then we definitely do not really understand since our understanding is based in language.
The fish trap exists because of the fish; once you’ve gotten the fish, you can forget the trap. The rabbit snare exists because of the rabbit; once you’ve gotten the rabbit, you can forget the snare. Words exist because of meaning; once you’ve gotten the meaning, you can forget the words. Where can I find a man who has forgotten words so I can have a word with him?
Zhuangzi
All these words just to say that words and thoughts are unreliable.
Austin Bai 