Many aspects of Taoist arts and practices do not fit well into the modern world. Take divination as an example, and, particularly, its role in seeing us fulfil our potential as co-creators of reality.
The argument against such a possibility sits firmly in the deterministic camp. How can we make choices and guide our destinies when, to all appearances, the deterministic mechanism of cause leading to effect leading to cause, and so on, is in force?
Determinism, according to the Taoist view of the universe, belongs squarely in the lower three realms (people, events and things); whereas divination and co-creation belong to the middle three realms of heaven, earth and humanity, and the upper three realms of the universe, space and time. Examining that which belongs to the latter, from the standpoint of the former, would quite naturally lead to the conclusion that it does not make sense.
Taoist sages cultivate Tao the way you or I might build a house: they start at the bottom and work their way up. Just as we would not construct the roof before the lower floors, so Taoist sages begin by working in the lower three realms of people events and things; of form and substance. This is the realm of the ordinary world that can be seen, touched, measured and categorised.
The practices that this involves are far too numerous to go into here. Essentially, a Taoist at the beginning of his cultivation would start by calming the mind and purifying the body. This would usually involve long and intense periods of meditation, periods of fasting, the moderation of diet and the ingestion of elixirs. The opening up of channels of energy within the body is another vital practice.
There is nothing quick and easy about this process. Much suffering must be endured over a period of many years before it can be said that the sage has transcended the lower three realms of people, events and things. While continuing to live in the world, the sage now needs from it only food to eat. All other material desires have evaporated. The transcendence spoken of here is of thought.
The middle three realms come next. This is the realm of earth, heaven and humanity; of substance without form and form without substance. Whereas in the lower three realms, finding directions might be a matter of navigating by the stars, in the middle three realms, navigation is done by quietly sitting and using one's own inner environment to find the positions of the sun, moon and stars.
The higher three realms of universe, time and space -- of no form and no substance -- follow. Heaven, earth and humanity are left behind, as are people, events and things. Time and space have not the meaning commonly ascribed them. In fact, meaning, definitions and limits no longer have a place. While this realm cannot be adequately described, for any definition would fail, it can be experienced fully. Here, the spirit is bound to no one place in time or space.
This represents the culmination of many years of cultivation.
The sage will continue to live in the lower three realms, but his thoughts -- his spirit -- will exist on higher planes. He will continue to feel the pangs of hunger, the sadness of parting and the joy of love, just like anyone else, for he remains human; but he has now realised his full potential. He will have powers and abilities that far outstrip those of us who have yet to transcend the lower three realms.
Regarding divination, in the lower three realms of people, events and things, we try to predict the future by means of what we can see and touch. But in the higher realms, events are predicted by examining their inner essence.
In chapter 21 of the Tao Te Ching, Lao-tzu wrote that Tao is indistinct, yet within it there is image and substance. Moreover, its essence is real. He concludes the chapter by saying he knows the nature of the source by means of the image and substance within Tao.
Knowing the source of a thing is how Taoist divination works, since if you can trace the way of a thing to its beginning you can understand it. The I Ching is an exposition of these images, with judgements appended to them to reveal the essence of events to those of us in the lower three realms.
But seeing the image and the substance within is not something that can be done in the lower three realms. It is an art of the higher realms. The higher realms transcend time and space and so are not bound by the deterministic march of events that takes place in the lower realms. Therefore, in the world of people events and things that we are all so familiar with, such things as divination do not make sense.
But viewed from the perspective of the higher realms, they suddenly become clear.
And it is not just the case with divination. Some argue that we must negate the self; others that we should not, but, instead, refine it. Both arguments are easily supported by Taoist teachings. Again, it depends from which realm you view the topic. In the lower three realms, the self very much exists and always will; and Taoism goes to great lengths to reveal how the self can be purified. In the higher realm, there is no self as distinct from anything else.
This does not represent a progression from one to the other, however. The work of the Taoist sage is to bring each realm into alignment within his being; it is not to negate any one of those realms as somehow unworthy.
The lower, middle and upper realms exist together. The indefatigable march of events of the lower realms go hand in hand with the ability to create reality in the higher realms; the self and no-self operate in harmony; stillness and movement contain each other; and being and non-being live side by side.
Viewed from the lower three realms of people, events and things, this may be impossible to comprehend; but viewed from the higher realms, it all begins to fall into place.
It is useful to know to which realm a thing belongs and from which level it must be viewed, understood and cultivated. And when such topics as divination and self are debated, it is vital.
For a fuller explanation of this concept, read Opening the Dragon Gate: the Making of a Modern Taoist Wizard, by Chen Kaiguo and Zheng Schunchao. Translated by Thomas Cleary.
