Tao Te Ching XXXVII

The way never acts yet nothing is left undone.

Should lords and princes be able to hold fast to it

the myriad creatures will be transformed of their own accord.

After they are transformed, should desire raise its head,

I shall press it down with the weight of the nameless uncarved block.

The nameless uncarved block

is but freedom from desire.

And if I cease to desire and remain still

the empire will be at peace of its own accord.

Naturally, the empire’s nature is to not be at peace by any accord, even as my nature is to desire and move.  The Tao sleeps under the growing weight of artifacts and ideas and the heat of piling desire.  We extend our lives to give us time to crawl through the weight, heat, and heaps to cessation, namelessness, and stillness; but often it is only death that gives us time by taking it away.  No, it is always death; the only difference is the kind of death.

We are transformed to our roots and destiny through desire or no-desire, yet we are transformed.  This is the way that will always have its way and will have it without effort or possession.  But the myriad creatures resist and battle it with cunning futile massive arsenals of words.  Some are beautiful, some are not; some are good, some are not:  the way doesn’t particularly care.  It is because it does not care about goodness that it is good, because it does not care about beauty that it is beautiful, and because it does not care about ends that it does not end.