Vs. 76

Living people
are soft and tender.
Corpses are hard and stiff.
The ten thousand things,
the living grass, the trees,
are soft, pliant.
Dead, they’re dry and brittle.

So hardness and stiffness
go with death;
Tenderness, softness,
go with life.

And the hard sword fails,
and the stiff tree’s felled.
The hard and great go under.
The soft and weak stay up.

Tao Te Ching by Lao Tsu, trans. Ursula K. Le Guin

Since my childhood I’ve been interested in the military. I remember my collection of injection molded miniature WWII soldiers. I played with those pieces for hours at a time. My family is not a “military” family though as are some of my relatives. There was no expectation that adulthood begins with military service. Yet, war has fascinated me, albeit from a distance. Without doubt aggression, – an apex of extremity provokes the utmost of resistance, resolve to survive the inexorable circumstances.

Another memory from my childhood in the early 60s. At Pullen Park in Raleigh, North Carolina a Korean war vintage F-86 jet was displayed. The war plane, essentially gutted of engine, and cockpit instrumentation, was parked on a concrete pad available for climbing and exploration. I remember climbing all over the decommissioned airplane.

Lines in verse 76 of the Classic of the Way and it’s Virtue, address the adult side of one’s imagination. The hard, kinetic dimension of warfare, is logically linked with death. Hold a 50 cal. round in your hand, by intuition knowing “this” was meant to destroy things and people. Full stop. On the other hand, being alive is beyond description, a joy that words imperfectly capture. The ten thousand things, a phrase-image for a riotous variety of experience, is characterized by adaptivity, by that seductive softness. Think about it!

And the hard sword fails,
and the stiff tree’s felled.

A lesson American’s are well advised to consider, – under the reign of Donald J. Trump.