The Li of Life

The Li of Life: A Spiritual, Philosophical, and Scientific Framework for Living Into Life

Taoism is a beautiful spiritual and philosophical tradition from ancient China, typically attributed to Lao Tzu, who around 2,500 years ago, wrote Tao Te Ching—“The Way and Its Power.” There’s actually little evidence to support Lao Tzu’s existence, but historical fact or myth, Taoism presents a rich ontological framework for the Tao, or the Way, sometimes understood as ‘the way of the universe.’ Although Lao Tzu tells us that “the Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao,” we can do our best to point to it with words (i.e., concepts).

Most will be aware of one of Taoism’s principal ideas of balancing forces of dark and light, as represented by the popularized symbol of the yin and yang, respectively. Yin and yang point to the profound reality of the connectedness of the universe, despite the diversity and multiplicity of appearances and the seeming independence that we perceive. Distinct but not separate, like the two sides of a coin or the poles of a magnet. Pleasure, pain; comfort, discomfort; mutually arising as essential pairs.

Similarly profound, and particularly interesting, is the Taoist concept of Li (pronounced “Lee”)—the organizing principle of the cosmos as revealed in the natural patterns of the universe. Li was often referenced in terms of the markings in jade or the grain in wood. The organization of the universe and the distinct ‘things’ within it, revealed as patterns in and through space and time.

I’ve been considering Li with respect to what we perceive as the circumstances of ‘my life.’ If nature arises ‘of itself’ (Chinese: tzu jan) and manifests in space as Li, then we, being inseparable from nature, must also be represented as Li in and through time—another dimension of perception. Might truly ‘living into life,’ experiencing its fullness, be living according to Li—the organic pattern of life, that already and always is in its totality, but is only revealed to us in the act of ‘traveling the path’?

What does this mean? Let’s see if it can be made a little less esoteric, bringing the metaphysics into clearer view.

We tend to process our life as past circumstances 'pushing' us in the present into the future. Past ‘causes’ influencing present ‘actions’ leading to future circumstances. But that’s simply our conventional way of perceiving, of making sense of reality, and is equivalent to saying that the wake of the boat drives it forward. Of course, the wake streams behind the boat, a result of the boat’s present action. Similarly, our reality is present-moment action with ‘past’ streaming behind us as memory. Likewise, the future is nothing other than a present-moment psychological projection; imagination acting here-now. Nobody’s ever made contact with the future; whenever it arrives, it’s always now. Obvious, but this is already an important shift in perspective, bringing us closer to what is.  But there’s one more important metaphysical level to explore:

Einstein was revolutionary in his theorizing of the relative nature of both space and time, and since then, theoretical and experimental physics continue to confirm the insubstantiality of space and time. So much so that it’s been proclaimed that space and time are “dead,” meaning that they are not fundamental properties of reality. They are, rather, our way—our mechanism or tool—of constructing a comprehensible experience of reality. What that fundamental reality actually is in itself is a topic for another time. Suffice to say, the conventional, typically unexamined, physicalist or materialist framework for the universe, in which matter, material stuff, is primary, with ‘things’ composed of ever smaller ‘things’ down to some ‘fundamental building block,’ simply isn’t true. As an alternative, metaphysical Idealism posits that consciousness itself is fundamental, with matter being an appearance in consciousness, thereby eradicating the ‘hard problem of consciousness,’ and the many apparent paradoxes, or antinomies, that arise with quantum mechanics. Not to mention the deep existential challenges that arise out of physicalism. But I digress.

The important point here is the collapse of past and future into a boundless here-now, experienced as present-moment unfolding of space and time. Additionally challenging for our rational minds is the reality of the block universe: the universe always and already is in its totality, and our perception of it is nothing other than a ‘slice’ through it, allowing us to comprehend it and operate within it. What we experience as ‘cause and effect’—a past cause creating a present effect—is in fact a mutual arising. Scientifically, as Einstein ushered in the death of spacetime, Heisenberg’s quantum mechanics did likewise for our conventional view of causality.

Alan Watts presents a useful thought-experiment to demonstrate the point. Imagine a slatted fence with one slat missing; we’re on one side and a cat on the other. As the cat walks past the gap in the fence we experience the head and then shortly thereafter the tail. It turns around and walks back and again we see head then tail. And so we conclude that event ‘head’ causes event ‘tail.’ Of course, we know in this instance that head and tail arise mutually as a single event ‘cat,’ but its totality was inaccessible to our view of reality. This is quite an apt analogy for our perception of spacetime as a slice through the totality and our experience of mutual arising as causality.

Mahayana Buddhism captured this beautifully thousands of years ago with the metaphor of Indra’s Net—an infinitely large net with a jewel at each vertex, with every jewel reflecting all others—highlighting the interdependence, interbeing (Thich Nhat Hanh), or mutual arising. All things/events being inseparable from all others.

This presents a conclusion that is understandably challenging for us to accept: it all already is, including the trajectory or path of ‘my life.’ We recoil against the seeming deterministic nature of the totality because, the thought goes: If it’s all ‘written’ and plays out like a series of billiard balls, then what’s the point of living it (i.e., nihilism)? But herein lies the tremendous importance of ‘computational irreducibility’: the totality—including our individual and collective future—can only be known through its arising, unfolding at the rate of time. That is, there’s no shortcut, no prediction, and, therefore, every moment is completely new, unexpected, and unknowable until upon us, as us. Us living it is the only way for the path to be revealed. Naturally, questions arise about ‘free will’ within a seemingly deterministic paradigm. Without going down that rabbit hole, it’s worth noting that the concept itself is a ‘red herring’—a meaningless notion. We do indeed appear ‘free’ to make ‘choices’ based upon our individual preferences, character, etc., but those are, of course, also determined; they’re certainly not random, nor did we choose them (that would result in ‘turtles all the way down’). There is no semantic space between determined and random, and randomness is simply a concept we apply to things/events in which we can’t discern a pattern.

The patterning of the tree’s rings that always already was, couldn’t have been otherwise, and yet, its growth, its unfolding through space and time, influenced in each moment by everything else.

The Li of Life is to know, to feel, this unknowable element of life and to lean into the flow of Li as it takes the shape that was always there to be discovered through living. It’s already there in eternal totality/wholeness, so, on one level, it’s not possible to not manifest/express our Li. But herein lies a paradox that brings the mind to a standstill: you can’t not travel according to your Li, and yet, seeing that truth fundamentally changes the journey, inevitably so. It’s the inevitable recognition of it—what’s already there—that ‘changes’ the path. Expression of our Li of Life is nothing other than “a new way of seeing” (Proust), but one that manifests as an irrevocable change to the world. It’s that this alternative way of experiencing feels more deeply aligned (and yet never misaligned), and therefore more deeply fulfilling.

Importantly, recognition of one’s Li is not a privileged endeavor or experience. However, this is an understandably challenging view to represent. Surely there are objectively ‘bad’ life situations that need to be overcome before any of ‘this stuff’ can be considered. This is an easy perspective to put forth and defend; on the surface, it seems imbued with understanding and caring. And it’s not categorically not true. But in a very real sense, it’s a disempowering view, suggesting the removal of the innate human capacity for realization within any given set of circumstances. Suffering is often the gateless gate into the discovery of and a deeper connection to what was always already there—our essential Self. There’s resistance in me to even presenting this alternative perspective. But there’s an undeniable, fundamental fierceness to life that can’t be argued; the animal world, for example, is rife with conflict, killing, starvation. As Bernardo Kastrup offers “Even your own backyard is an absolute bloodbath.” This fierceness strikes us all at different times, in different ways, and to different degrees. Although, even to suggest “degrees”—an objective spectrum of challenge—is already too far, for that smuggles in a judgement from a ‘higher/better’ position and suggests a ‘knowing’ of another’s experience of life. Empathy only takes us so far and stops short. Critically, the difficult perspective offered herein does not allow for passivity because it’s all ultimately fine. While true on one level, inquiry into Li, and even just a taste of its realization, regardless of life circumstances, inevitably and irrevocably leads to the recognition of the wellspring of love and compassion that we are, enabling and motivating skillful action in service of and in effort to reduce suffering for those in need; particularly for those with fewer opportunities and less access to the basic needs of life, within their particular society.

Practically, because the path is defined, it is never not possible for one to express their unique Li; it can never be discrepant from possibility. Certainly one’s imagined future and/or conditioned hopes can be ‘misaligned,’ but their Li will always operate within/as their particular set of circumstances. Always available to be realized in myriad ways.

Years ago, I corresponded with Frank Ostaseski—Buddhist teacher and leader in end-of-life care—seeking some form of advice, some definition of my own path. Frank graciously replied with compassionate, direct words: no advice could be given; the path was only for me to discover. At the time, I was somewhat underwhelmed by the reply (my ego slightly bruised), but now I see such a profound teaching: any advice he would have offered would have just been more conditioning, already heaped upon us by societal and cultural notions of success and progress. Instead, he pointed me back to myself.

Li removes the concept of an objective ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ path, or a ‘better’ or ‘worse’ life. Rather, for each of us, there is a ‘truest’ path to follow/lead. And it is, in fact, a simultaneous leading and following; we’re doing both. It’s only through the light of (self-)awareness—that which Frank was pointing me to—that we begin to ‘taste’ what is uniquely worthwhile for our own life; what touches our deeper values and priorities. It’s here that we begin to align/orient along our own expression of Li.

Within the Li of Life the living of it becomes the primary output, achieved in every moment. That’s not to say bliss, comfort, ease, or happiness in every moment—that defies the yin and yang of the cosmos—rather, it’s likely to in fact be quite the opposite—uncertain, uncomfortable, and socially/conventionally devalued. This is decidedly not ‘self-help.’ This is much closer to ‘self-challenge,’ ‘self-examination,’ most assuredly leading to ‘other-help,’ fueled by deep compassion, creativity, and curiosity. A life permeated with a baseline satisfaction and contentment inherent within traveling one’s own path, and yet a journey that’s always arrived in each step.

How, then, does one ‘recognize’ or ‘realize’ their Li, the expression of which manifests as a  pathless path in and as life? It’s through stilling the superficial, conditioned mind that we begin to let the choppy waters and the debris settle, revealing a sparkling depth; a clearer view to our unique Li. One cannot ‘create’ their Li; there’s only the allowing of its expression to rise to the surface and fundamentally alter the journey along a route that was itself inevitable. Much more to dig into here …