Dating advice from Taoist priest Yun Xiang Tseng

I came across this video on a Taoist discussion forum some time ago.  Yun Xiang Tseng (known as Master Cheng to his students) is a Taoist priest in the Wudang tradition.  In this video, he makes some interesting comments on relationships.  The discussion gets a bit repetitive, and his accent might be hard for some people to understand, but I think it's worth listening.  Below is my five-point summary and commentary.  At this point I should probably say that my commentary is written from the perspective of a heterosexual man and that my notes below are intended primarily for other heterosexual men.  However, if you change the pronouns, I believe that most of these principles can apply to other kinds of relationships, as well.

1.  Don't expect a woman to think, feel, or behave the way you think she should (i.e., like you would, or like a man would).  It amazes me how often I hear guys getting frustrated because their partner is not acting 'rationally' or the way that he himself would act.  If you expect other people (in general, not just women) to act according to your own values, beliefs, and expectations, you are going to be disappointed and frustrated.

2.  Allow the other person to be herself and appreciate her as she is.  Don't be disappointed because she is not the person you wanted her to be.

3. Your inability to accept and love another is directly related to your inability to accept and love yourself.  Many problems in relationships are caused by a lack of self-esteem and self-love, which leads to insecurity and power games.

4.  You need to have a certain level of self-esteem and happiness in your life in order to have a happy, healthy, and authentically creative relationship with your partner.  Obviously, if you are depressed, stressed, anxious, or miserable, your relationship is going to have problems and it will be difficult for you and your partner to create children, a family, a business, or whatever else it is that you're trying to bring into the world together.  So, your emotional well-being is crucial.  By the way, in case you didn't know, there are things you can do to reduce stress and improve your emotional well-being.  Things like eating well, getting enough sleep, exercising, practicing qigong, meditating, and living mindfully.

5.  In his advice on attracting the right partner, Master Cheng's advice emphasizes self-cultivation, as opposed to outward seeking.  I quote:

"Healthy body give ability to house a healthy spirit, and a healthy spirit is able to manifest the glow of love, and the glow of love expand--able to attract the right kind of people.  You are not go out and look for your soulmate, your relations person, the great relations person will attracted to your glow of love and come to your life without have to try that hard.  Love always on the first sight, we always love to hear that, but love on the first sight is because you are able and capable to emit the glow of light to attract the one who is capable to be synchronized with your energy.  So don't busy searching outside, turn inside to improve the quality of your own being."

In my opinion, this is actually the most relevant (and non-obvious) point that Yun Xiang Tseng makes in his discussion.  In our culture, as men, we are being sold the message that in order to meet women, we need to go out and take a very active approach: going to clubs, "approaching," getting phone numbers, and in general, trying really hard.  This is the message of books like The Game and the entire "Seduction Community" which has a wider cultural influence, especially among young men, than many readers might suspect.  These messages appeal to men's feelings of powerlessness, frustration, inadequacy, and fear.

However, my own experience with dating and relationships has been that that kind of effort yields very little reward for the amount of effort that goes into it.  In fact, all of the good relationships I've had, the ones that have lasted a while and been satisfying while they lasted, have been brought about seemingly by synchronicity or fate, with very little effort on my part.  Taoism has always emphasized effortless action, non-action or wu wei, and it seems that the approach Yun Xiang Tseng is suggesting to finding a partner is a wu wei approach. 

Instead of actively seeking, focus on cultivating yourself.  Master Cheng emphasizes the importance of having not only a healthy spirit but a healthy body as well.  Having a healthy body, being in good shape, leads to living with more joy, more self-esteem, more self-confidence--and confidence is the single most attractive quality a man can have.  On a more esoteric level, says Master Cheng, a person who is physically, emotionally, and spiritually healthy emits a subtle energetic glow or radiance that is naturally attractive, especially to people with whom you have a natural energetic compatibility.  Once you are in this state, you don't have to go out and look for the right person.  You will naturally attract them into your life, and attraction happens naturally, effortlessly.  It is, in fact, the most natural thing in the world.

New Kung Fu Shoes

 Because there's only one thing that can defeat Chuck Norris.

In all seriousness though, I just got some new cotton-soled kung fu shoes from KarateDepot.com.  They are very cheap (about $12 including shipping), lightweight, and comfortable.  Actually, the quality of the shoes is better than I had expected when I ordered them.  I tried them on this evening and they are almost as comfortable as going barefoot (okay, more comfortable if you are walking on asphalt or other awful modern surfaces).

I had been wanting some lighter footwear, now that the weather here is starting to warm up, and I don't like wearing flip-flops so much anymore because there is a lot of evidence now that they're basically bad for your feet.  Kung fu shoes, or rather, the kind of shoes that people wore in China for a long, long time, whether they were martial artists or not, are a good alternative that will protect your soles from broken glass, dirt, needles, little tiny rocks, etc. without sacrificing the ergonomic benefits of going barefoot (minimalist footwear in general, since it lacks an artificial arch, is supposed to help strengthen your feet, ankles, and calves, as well as correct your posture and gait).  I have a pair of Vibram FiveFingers, too, but I don't like the extra attention I get from walking around looking like a freak.  The kung fu shoes are much more discreet.  Plus, retro fashion icon Bruce Lee wore them, so they must be cool.

If you want some, you can get them at about a hundred different places online, or swing by your local Chinatown, if you are lucky enough to have one.  There are rubber-soled versions available, too, for heavier outdoor use, but I'm starting with the cotton-soled ones for Taijiquan, qigong, and just walking around the neighborhood.

My old kung fu teacher used to make us train in cotton-soled shoes like these on a waxed concrete floor.  He waxed the floor every week.  One false move, you were on your ass.  That's one way to learn balance.
 

The Mad Monk, and tea for all seasons

Yesterday I went to go see an old friend who is pouring tea at Mad Monk Tea in the Ocean Beach neighborhood of San Diego.  I had heard about the shop a couple of years ago, when it was under a different name and different ownership, but never made it down to OB to check it out because you had to make an appointment, and they charged something like $35 per hour for private gongfucha/Chinese tea ceremony.  Now, it is a much more casual environment where anyone can walk in, sit down, and taste tea.  The tea room is a cool, offbeat hole-in-the-wall kind of place.  The crowd there is eclectic and  the tea selection is very good.  We (I brought my sister along) drank a 7-year Imperial (loose-leaf) pu-erh and an  Osmanthus Silver Needle "flowering" tea.  We both got pretty buzzed on the pu-erh; I could feel the cha qi opening up my meridians.  The Osmanthus Silver Needle had a nice honey/apricot flavor and was very soothing after the pu-erh.  I thought it would be a good tea to have around for the summer, so I bought two ounces.

Since I first starting learning Taoist health principles, I've really taken to the idea of varying my diet in accordance with the seasons.  We all do this naturally, to some extent.  In the summer, for example, are you more likely to crave beef stew, or a salad?  Since I've gotten into tea, I vary my tea-drinking with the seasons as well.  Pu-erh, lapsang souchong, and other black or red teas are my favorite in the winter.  This spring, I am drinking mostly Dongding oolong at home, and I have Shizuoka sencha and the Osmanthus Silver Needle for when the San Diego weather gets even warmer in the next few months.  I expect the Osmanthus Silver Needle would also be very good iced, although I usually only drink iced tea when it's really hot outside.  When fall comes--my favorite season of the year--I will probably gravitate back toward some darker teas.  There's nothing like a good cup of pu-erh on a misty autumn morning.

A Dream of Blossoms and Wind

 Last night I dreamed that I was at some kind of high school reunion type of event.  I remember being in an absurdly crowded room.  People were bumping into each other and pushing each other around, and things started to get a little out of hand.  I started using the peng or "ward off" T'ai Chi movement in order to clear a little personal space and make my way outside.

Apparently, the hall I had been in just a moment before was in the middle of a Japanese garden.  On a patio below, there were some people I knew, including a girl I used to like and a few of her friends, sitting in chairs and watching a movie that was being projected on a screen against a wall.  The women were wearing dresses that looked almost like they were from the 19th century American South.  The film they were watching appeared to be Shogun. 

As I stood there watching, the night breeze picked up a handful of pink blossoms and flower petals and sent them spinning through the air.  A few of the women noticed, and we all watched the flowers as they danced through the courtyard.  Then there were more of them, and finally a tremendous spray of flower petals began swirling out of a hollow tree trunk and flying magically through the night.  The movement of the flowers seemed to defy the laws of physics.  It was like something out of a Hayao Miyazaki film.  I was amazed, and I remember the physical sensation of smiling as I watched this display, entranced and in awe. I was still smiling when I woke up.

It's the first time in as long as I can remember that I've seen something so beautiful in a dream.

Preface

this ink painting of wind

blowing through pines
who hears it?

--Ikkyu Sojun, 15th century Zen master (trans. Stephen Berg)

This blog is a new experiment for me. It will serve as a record of my thoughts on Zen, Taoism, depth psychology and psychotherapy, writing, reading, martial arts training, tea, and more or less anything else I feel like writing about.

Why Wind Through Pines? It's a classic image found throughout the poetry and music of China and Japan, suggesting ethereal beauty, impermanence, and melancholy. In China and Japan, the pine tree, as an evergreen, symbolizes stoic endurance and longevity, standing nobly upright between Heaven and Earth, just as a human being should. In this way, the pine embodies traditional Confucian ideals of virtue. But in Japanese, matsu, or pine, can also mean "to wait," and as such, the pine often serves as a symbol of longing in Japanese poetry.

While the pine stands firmly rooted in one place, the wind, in contrast, blows freely. In the Japanese Buddhist godai or five element system, kaze or fu (wind) represents growth, expansion, freedom of movement, open-mindedness, and carefree wandering, as well as elusiveness and evasion.

When the mercurial wind blows through the ancient and deeply-rooted pine forest, a haunting and ephemeral melody is produced. In Chinese music, Wind Through Pines is a classic qin melody called Feng Ru Song Ge. There is also at least one famous composition for the shakuhachi, or Japanese bamboo flute, called Matsukaze (pine wind or wind in pines).

Writing, and especially blogging, is like this: it passes in and out of existence like the sound of wind through pines. Even if a text endures for some time, the sound of its words in the mind of the reader is short-lived. Maybe someone will remember it, maybe not. Books will turn to dust, web pages will be lost in the ether, and writer and reader will both eventually die. But, as it is said in Zen, "life and death are of supreme importance." The way we live our lives matters, and therefore it matters what we think, read, and write. These words are like wind through pines, here today and gone tomorrow. But if my writing serves its purpose well, perhaps its echoes will linger in the minds of a few sympathetic readers, helping to awaken a deeper awareness and appreciation for virtue, wisdom, and the fleeting moments of beauty that make life worth living.