Wisdom of the Taijitu

Halfway through the first book in Juliet Marillier's Warrior Bards Trilogy, the half~human, half~fey Queen of the Otherworld laments that the dominant human culture has strayed from the ideals that once kept things in healthy and harmonious balance. "Your kind have forgotten the old ways," Eirne tells the protagonist. "You have forgotten...the wisdom of the past, the strength that rises from tree and stone and stream, the bond between one world and the other." 

Sound familiar? The past has taught us much about the importance of kindness and working together toward a shared goal. History repeatedly cautions against the dangers of aggression, of authoritarian regimes, and unchecked power. We once knew to treat the natural world respectfully, never taking more than we needed and always giving something back, so that all remained in vibrant harmony. 

Too often now we forget the balance that is woven throughout nature, with one such example currently in evidence. We recently passed the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year. Daylight does not continue to grow past its allotted time. In fact, in the handful of days that have elapsed since the 20th of June, nights are already 7 minutes longer. The interchange built into the cycle of the seasons is furthered by the fact that, as daylight begins to shrink, temperatures soar. Each side of life's equation~~light and dark, heat and coolness, expansion and rest~~gives way to the other. In this way, harmony is maintained. 

This dance of opposites is most famously imaged in an ancient Taoist symbol, the Taijitu. 

A circle, representing the entirety of direct human experience, is divided into two halves of equal size. One portion is light, the other dark. Yet the dark side has a pinpoint of light, the light half a dark spot. This is a reminder of the natural harmony hidden within the world of duality. Even as summer moves into full swing, daylight decreases. Even as fascism surges, people rise up to speak truth to power, to do the right thing often at significant personal cost. 

But how do we manage the complexities of such a dance? Well, it helps to see it as a dance. The line that separates each side of the Taijitu is not straight or rigid. It curves, speaking to both the fluidity of things and the importance of being flexible ourselves, graceful in our response. 

The Taijitu offers another important teaching. While the eye is understandably drawn to the Circle itself, that Circle floats within a seemingly empty field. This is a reminder that human experience is not all there is, that a vastness stretches beyond what is known. Most of the time, we will be focused on this world, with lives that are lived here. Yet that which we can see with human eyes, touch with our hands, and interact with day in and day out is not the whole story. There are more things, Horatio, than can be dreamt of by human faculties. 

Perhaps you see the area outside the Circle as the Universe itself, which contains mysteries we will never fully uncover and possibly other inhabited worlds. Maybe for you this area is more ethereal, representing the spiritual guidance and support that is ever~available. Or perhaps this open space is simply a reminder of the Surprise Factor and encouragement to be open to possibility. No matter how you see it, this surrounding expanse can offer a helpful context for our very own and personal dance. Context we very much need. 

We live in challenging times, times when essential societal and political safeguards are being broken down and environmental degradation is accelerating. "It is at such times of distrust and disruption," Eirne goes on to note, "that dark forces...rise up to shadow our world." 

What is the appropriate response to this shadow? To shine our light as best we can. To offer our unique talents and skills in a way that enacts the change we'd like to see in the world. To work for the restoration of balance and harmony. To remember the Surprise Factor. To reject us~against~them thinking. To remember that ignorance, aggression and fear are our enemies, and that most of us have more than our share of each. To engage with grace, humor, and tolerance for the foibles of others, even as we honestly and effectively share our concerns.

In other words, to act in a way that revives "the wisdom of the past," to honor "the strength that rises from tree and stone and stream" in our own lives, and to nourish according to our personal theology "the bond between one world and the other." 

Be the change, my friend. In honor of the upcoming weekend that celebrates the birth of the experiment that is The United States of America, be the change. And be it now.

Much love, 

Leia