Chapter 12 of the Tao Te Ching - The Journey of Self

Long ago in a land with no borders there was a young man that found he had a special talent for racing. He entered all of the five marathons and he won every competition for many years. He became very famous and earned a lot of money. At a young age he had found happiness and peace. He found truth in the exhilaration of running and winning. He thought that nothing could be closer to heaven than his life.

Then one day he awoke and he could no longer use his legs. He went to see all of the doctors in the country, but none of them could explain why he couldn’t walk. He was unable to use them until the day he died.

In his sorrow he decided that maybe there was more to life than running. While sitting in his wheel chair, he looked out of his bedroom window. He marveled at the world around him and the five colors that permeated nature. But as he looked he realized that there were more than the five colors that he had always been told about. So he began to study them.

For many years he worked with paint to blend color after color. He came to realize that each hue and shade of a color was, in fact, its own color. He decided that there were too many possibilities to be able to discover all of them. Then he began to use the colors to create wonderful works of art. People from all across the land would come to him for his work and to learn his techniques.

Now he truly understood heaven. To be able to create so many wonderful images; what could be better? He became very famous and earned lots of money.

Then one day he awoke and he could no longer see. Once again, there existed no doctor that could find anything wrong with him. He was unable to see until the day he died.

One day while his daughter was pushing him in his wheelchair through the park he caught the smell of a nearby cedar tree and he began thinking about the five scents that the ancient teachers always spoke of. But there are more than five, he thought, there must be thousands. So he began to study them.

After many years he realized that there were more scents than anyone could possibly document. So he began to use them. He blended oils and fragrances over and over until he found the most pleasing combinations possible. He bottled them and sold them as perfumes and incenses.

Everyone in the land came to him and marveled at his skills. Once again, he had found true peace and happiness. Heaven is in the air, he thought, to be surrounded by the most peaceful aromas is the closest to heaven that man could possibly get. He became very famous and made lots of money.

Then one day he awoke and found that he had lost his sense of smell. Every doctor in the land agreed that there was nothing wrong with his nose, but he had lost the ability, none the less. He was unable to enjoy the scent of a rose until the day that he died.

One night while eating dinner he noticed the sounds of the insects on the evening breeze. This made him think about the five tones of nature. Once again he began to think that there must be more than five. What about all of the variations between the notes? Shouldn’t they count as sounds as well?

So he began to study sound and music. He soon became so overwhelmed with trying to define each sound and create a formula for each one that he decided to simply use what he knew to create new music.

His music became known throughout the land. He was invited to perform before kings and queens. He was asked to create masterpieces of music for orchestras and opera houses. Everyone came to him to hear his creations. Finally he had found the truth. Music was the foundation of creation. All existence came from a single tone. Music was the true heaven. He became very famous and earned lots of money.

Then one day he awoke and he could not hear. When he tried to speak his vocal chords would not make a sound. Once again he sought out the doctors, but none could explain his loss. He could neither hear nor speak until the day that he died.

For many years he lay in bed alone while his loved ones and nurses cared for him. He was unable to communicate his thoughts. All of his fame had died and his fortune was quickly fading as well. But his mind was as sharp as always. After many years of depression and self pity he began to think about his life and all that he had learned. He had mastered all of the pleasures of life, thinking he had found peace and truth, but in each step of his life he found that he had been wrong.

There must be more, he thought. So for many years he meditated on who he was and what his life had taught him. Then one day he awoke and realized that he had not lost everything. In fact he had not lost anything that was truly important. He still had the ability to feel. Not with is fingers, but with his heart. He felt love, he felt pain, and he felt happiness, joy and depression. The true path to heaven, he thought, is not in the things that you experience in the physical world, but the things that you feel. It is within your own spirit and soul that you will find the answers to life and the hand to guide you.

Then he heard it. The sound of curtains softly moving with the breeze. He opened his eyes and he saw the light of the morning sun reflecting off of the painted walls of his room. He inhaled deeply and he could smell the spring air and the scent of a coming rain.

He sat up and looked toward his window. The sky was filled with brilliant blues and whites and grays. Then he saw a sparrow land on the ledge just outside. He got out of bed and walked to the window. He looked down at the little bird and held out his hand.

The sparrow hopped onto his finger and looked back up and him. He smiled as the bird picked at its wings. He was filled with emotion. He was filled with peace.

He opened his mouth and he heard his own voice say to the little bird, “I love you.”

The bird chirped pleasantly in response and flew off. He watched it as it became a tiny dot in the distance. Then he gazed at all of the wonders spread out before him. The sights, sounds and scents of the world delighted him.

He turned away from the window and walked back to his bed. He laid his head on his pillow. As he was inhaling the scents of the freshly washed linens, he fell asleep.

The next day his family carried his ashes to the top of the highest cliffs over the ocean. With the tears of his passing flowing from their eyes, they scattered the ashes and allowed the five winds to carry him home.