On Strength
The preview for the new Jet Li movie quotes Lao Tsu as writing, “knowing others gives you strength, knowing yourself makes you fearless.” That caught my attention, because I’d never seen a translation of chapter that put it that way. My friend Peter Shark says there is no such thing as an accurate translation of the Tao Te Ching, and I tend to agree with him, but I hope that by studying multiple translations and asking that I might learn something worthwhile.
My favorite translation (which has gotten some praise from my old teacher Taigen Dan Leighton who has distinguished himself with some excellent translations from ancient Japanese and Chinese texts) is Stephen Addiss and Stanley Lombardo’s (Hardcover and Paperback) which translates those lines from Chapter 33 as:
Knowing others is intelligent.
Knowing yourself is enlightened.Conquering others takes force.
Conquering yourself is true strength.
Other translations I have variously use “wisdom” and “enlightenment” for the first pair. Stephen Mitchell’s popular (and I believe deeply flawed) edition reverses both Addiss/Lombardo and Feng/English’s choice and calls conquering others “strength” and conquering self “power.” This may pander to Mitchell’s touchy-feely new-age audience who sees strength as sin in any context, but I believe that strength is unquestionably a virtue. It is only the application of strength into power or force that has the capacity for destruction.
Today one of the largest spiders I’ve seen appeared in my shower. I have a habit learned from my father, one of the reasons I am grateful to be my father’s son, not to kill bugs when a capture-and-release method is available and equally effective. The method is simple: turn a drinking glass over on the spider, then slide a piece of paper or thin cardboard under the rim of the glass, trapping your captor. The glass can then be emptied on the ground outside. I’ve performed this capture-and-release many times, sometimes over the objection of girlfriends who wanted the critter killed.
It is usually my first instinct to kill a spider. I don’t know enough about them to know how to tell a poisonous spider from a harmless variety, and it seems that the safest and easiest thing is to crush it with a fist or a shoe. Perhaps this is why Lao Tsu refers to conquering the self. The first instinct must be suppressed before I can act with compassion and exercise my strength in a non-lethal manner.
Of course if there were an actual threat to myself or someone else posed by a spider, I’d kill it without hesitation. But what a better world to live in where there is a choice to be made instead of blindly killing. It’s a small thing and perhaps not all that significant, but thanks Dad. I’m glad to have learned this habit.
Besides, when left alive spiders kill the other bugs.
I’ve never read the Tao Te
I’ve never read the Tao Te Ching, which is odd, considering how much I enjoyed and incorporated from Smullyan’s The Tao is Silent. I should look for the translation you recommend on ABE Books. … Indeed, I just ordered a copy. Lord, but I love the internet.
As for the spider thing, I have a simple rule: spiders outside my home live. Those inside my home die. I know that my death-to-in-home-spiders rule is born of irrational fear, but, at this point in my life, I’m good with that.