Raymond Barnett

Prologue

What do you think: can the world's oldest continuous civilization have anything to say to the world's youngest?
China's culture--its everyday habits of life and the values they embody--is more than 5,000 years old. America's is less than 500.
You can do the math.
The Chinese "way of life" wears well. Because it works so well, it retains its characteristic stamp wherever it's transplanted around the world. Molded by the ancient native outlook of Taoism, China's people practice a way of living their everyday life that is robust, cohesive, and above all successful. It is the flourishing constant underlying the changing superstructures of empire, republic, warlords, and now communism.
Can we in America learn anything from this old and fabulously successful way of living life?
Do we have any need for a different approach to life?
In my home state of California, there're more people in prison than in college. The state Legislature and our Governor regularly transform problems into crises, with the cost passed straight to citizens like you and me. Big business and big labor alike buy special consideration. Money talks, and how.
On the national scene, you can't help but notice that the spasm of unity following 9/​11 is long gone, and we're as bitterly divided as ever over war and peace, racism, the economy versus the environment, and how we should raise and educate our kids.
All this confusion and strife isn't confined to the public sphere, unfortunately. It's amply reflected in our private lives. Whether our jobs and relationships are steady or constantly changing, we all ask the same questions, just below the surface of our busy lives. What's this all about? Am I really happy, or just too busy to confront the fact that my life doesn't have a direction, a purpose?
Religion is supposed to answer these questions, of course. But some of us see traditional religions as hopelessly out of touch with the modern, scientific understanding of life. We wander into "New Age" ways of thinking. Others of us reach back to earlier and simpler versions of religion, fueling the contemporary resurgence in fundamentalist branches of Christianity and Islam. And those of us sticking with the religion we were raised in feel too often like we're just going through the motions, and we wonder, deep down, if the old explanations really work for us.
Why don't we try thinking really outside the box? Something really weird--but successful! Of course, from our American point of view, that's China. Those 5,000 years of a culture that works so well that it really hasn't changed fundamentally for millenia. A culture that works so well that when its people move to Karachi or London or San Francisco, they take it with them, lock, stock, and barrel, giving the world all those Chinatowns in every corner of the planet.
On my first trips to Asia--Vietnam in the late '60s, courtesy of Uncle Sam, then China several times in the early '80s with my travel buddy Kyle-- I immediately noticed how strange these places were, and how the daily lives of the people there had a different "flavor" than I'd ever seen. Since I'd studied the Chinese language while at Yale, and because Kyle is adventuresome and cool-witted, we were able to connect with the people way beyond the typical tourist level. The "different way of living" in China and the surrounding countries fascinated me, and I sought out the common people in little-traveled corners of China and Korea and Taiwan and Japan in subsequent trips.
Everywhere I found common people exhibiting a tough acceptance of life, an ability to plunge into both the sweet and the bitter sides of life and savor it. I was struck by a simple, easy-going enjoyment of everyday life evident in many people, a low-key gusto that was at odds with life in much of America. The trite "serenity" that you hear so much about turned out to be true, and not in gurus and hermits, but in many of the common folk I encountered.
Between my travels and my study, it became apparent that the ancient Taoist approach to life accounted for much of what I was seeing. Not the Taoism of the advanced Masters, with their dramatic feats of martial arts and exotic breathing techniques, but the Taoism of the common people, the real China. Long described in China as "the art of living," Taoism is the oldest continuous and consistent approach to living on the planet. This Taoist outlook is thoroughly engrained into everyday life in China, so that daily life is permeated by Taoist habits. The accumulation of these simple Taoist habits, it turns out, gives rise to that richer, more vibrant, steadily focused quality of life that I saw throughout China.
You can tap into that richer life. Right here in America, today. And you don't have to "go Chinese" and start meditating and practicing vicious high-leg kicks to do it. All you need do is incorporate the simple, everyday Taoist habits into your existing life. I'll get you started in the following pages, and give you lots of suggestions about what has worked for me, my family, and many others. Let's go!

Chapter 1. Immersion in the Tao

The Taoist tradition has given rise to countless everyday habits of the ordinary people of China, habits which contribute to a rich, coherent experience of life. These everyday Taoist habits work just as well for Americans as for Chinese, though. In fact, you and I practice many of them, unaware of what's behind them.
Take the view of things I have from my kitchen window here in northern California, for example. As I stare out the window filling the teapot with water first thing every morning, I usually see Julie from across the way coming back from her dawn run. She's beaming, cheeks flushed, walking with a lilt. And most evenings, while doing the dinner dishes in the same spot, I see Jay from the other end of our CoHousing community, arriving home from a brisk stroll in the park with my neighbors George and Judy. They're laughing, and there's a comfortable swagger in their steps.
We've all witnessed these scenes. Maybe you're the one doing the jogging or the walking. Why do these particular activities make us feel so good? Why do folks carve time out of their busy days to walk, to jog, to visit a park?
The same sort of scenes occur in China, although the details are different. When my buddy Kyle and I first traveled independently in China in 1986, we’d rise before dawn and walk to the nearest park. There, we’d see crowds of people doing the graceful, sweeping moves of Tai Chi Ch'uan, or the violent lunges of kung fu with swords and lances. Some older folks were simply walking deliberately along a course, hands describing circular movements in the chill air.
When you survey Chinese art down the ages, you notice how many paintings there are of lone individuals or small groups of friends in the mountains, or in a bamboo grove, or very frequently beside a stream. Usually these folks are playing a friendly board game, or drinking tea, or often just sitting quietly, enjoying the scenery.
What’s going on in these traditional activities? Are the Chinese participating in the same sort of experience as the neighbors outside my kitchen window? In China, at least, people do these outdoor activities because the Taoist outlook permeating Chinese culture places a huge premium on humans connecting with the forces inherent in the natural world. This keeps people healthy and happy. Preeminent among these forces that structure and permeate the natural world is the Tao. These folks are connecting with the Tao.
Tao (the way, or path, pronounced "dow" and often spelled "Dao") confers the inherent nature of each material and force in the universe. Tao is the backdrop and the impetus for everything that happens, all the myriad processes of transformation that constantly course through the world. In the words of a Japanese scholar, Tao is "the mood of the universe." The flow of Tao gives rise to the patterns and regularities that characterize the universe. Tao courses everywhere, but most clearly in the natural world, where its patterns are strikingly evident, most accessible to human perception and participation.
So we humans connect with this most elemental of phenomena by spending time in the natural world, by participating in the flow of life in nature. Activity in nature reminds us of “the way things are,” realigns us with the mood of the universe, the bedrock of existence—of our own existence, as well as everything else.
Paramount among Taoist habits for us modern Americans, then, is doing in our society what those Chinese have been doing in theirs for thousands of years: spend time in the natural world. Immersing ourselves in the Tao is the most basic Taoist habit. This is so important to our health, both physical and spiritual, that it should be done on a daily basis.
How do we daily immerse ourselves in the Tao in the modern West? Renouncing your job and family and moving to a shack in the woods is not required. (Although some do: see Appendix 1 about NASCAR driver Ward Burton.) Do you have a park or green space reasonably close to your home? Go there, every day if you can. Make it a routine part of your day. If you’re an early person, then early morning is prime. Julie across the way from me knows this. Although she has two energetic youngsters, she manages to be up early every day for her jog through the park, before Richard leaves for his work. We all know the air is fresher, the day more charged with positive potential just after dawn. Prime time to be out in the natural world.
If you’re not an early person, then visit the park on your lunch hour, or first thing after school or work. This is Jay , George, and Judy's walk schedule. In general, engaging in some movement among the trees and rocks is best--walking, bicycling, jogging. But just sitting in the natural environment is beneficial, especially near a body of water.
We are fortunate here to live just a block from the third largest municipal park in America. All day long, my neighbors stream out of Valley Oaks Village, our CoHousing community. On foot, bicycles, or skates, we head for Bidwell Park. [Insert figure 2] You cannot spend five minutes in our section of the park without encountering a neighbor. We have our favorite corners, our favorite swimming holes, our favorite paths and trees and rocks.
You're not close to a park? Or you're not particularly athletic? If you have a bit of dirt around your home, start a garden, either flower or vegetable. Tend it, as much of the year as your climate permits. Mulch it, fertilize it, take deep breaths as you work the soil, drawing into your lungs the delicious dirt smell produced by the millions of Streptomyces bacteria residing there. Start a compost pile if your neighbors will stand it, and recycle your food and lawn wastes. Tending your garden puts you in touch with the flow of the Tao, focuses you on the natural rhythms of the universe.

Immersion in the Tao
How many of these can you do today? This week?

Walk or jog in a park;
notice the trees and rocks.
Eat lunch outdoors;
note clouds and breezes.
Sit beside a lake, creek, or the ocean;
wade in and explore its rocks and creatures.
Bicycle in the countryside;
take a picnic, pick some flowers.
Start a small garden;
feel the dirt, make it richer.

No park or dirt nearby? Bring the natural world into your home. Invest in a variety of house plants, and care for them. Learn which of your windows the plants are happiest beside. Which water regimes they thrive on. Which nutrients keep them healthy and luxuriant. Do they need “grow lights” in the winter to stay happy? The Tao flows in electrical appliances, also!
What natural object intrigues you when you go for a trip or a walk? Pick it up, bring it home, and put it on your window sill. In our home we have lots of rocks and seashells on shelves and counters as well as window sills. Not just any rocks or seashells, but special ones, rocks spewed from volcanoes in Hawaii, or seashells formed by mollusks that have poison darts to subdue their wormy or fishy prey. Just seeing the rocks and shells there reminds you of how incredible the world is, and how much fun you had when you found them.

Exploring your Terrain
Visit every park or green space in your town over the next week or month. Describe each one, and the possibilities each one offers for Immersion in the Tao.
Visit every body of water in your county over the next month or year. Describe each one, and the possibilities each one offers for Immersion in the Tao.
Learn to identify five native trees in your county. Describe their leaf shape, what type of fruit they produce, what birds and insects and mammals you find in them.
Buy binoculars and learn ten common birds in your area. What vegetation to they hang out in? What do they eat? What do their calls sound like?

The practice of immersing yourself in the Tao applies to very mundane aspects of your daily life. When I had just graduated from high school, I had a summer job working construction in Tulsa. I rode to work with Dad at 6:45 every morning. Dad had every window in the car down, and since I was wearing a t-shirt appropriate for the hottest part of the day, I was freezing in the early morning coolness. I didn’t say anything—this was the very early 1960’s in Oklahoma, and you didn’t dare say much to your Dad, certainly not a request to change his habits. Dad’s instinct was to have as much fresh air as possible around him. He had grown up on a farm in central Oklahoma, and being outdoors in nature was just second-nature to him, even though he’d traded his tractor for the executive suite of a petroleum supply firm.
Like my Dad, open your windows as much as possible. Don’t hide inside your closed home with a heater or air conditioner any more than you have to. In the summers, particularly, we turn the AC off at night, open our windows, and let the universe cool the house down.
Do you ever go camping? Incorporate camping trips into your family life. Every summer my wife Tammy and I drive two hour’s north to Lassen Park a time or two with our kids Ash and Lou, and pitch our tent for a long weekend. We’ve always had a large family tent. It's just part of our essential family “tool kit,” like first-aid kits and bicycles and apples always available on the kitchen table.
You don't think your family will take to camping? Make it fun. How many matches does dad need to start the fire? Is he allowed to use newspapers as kindling? At what age do your kids get better at making the fire than dad? Which trail are you hiking today? How many “s'mores” can my son Lou gorge himself on tonight?
We buy “light sticks,” the plastic tubes containing substances which glow when you break the internal partition separating them, and take them camping with us. Every night we entertain ourselves for hours after settling into our bedrolls in the tent, swirling the glowing containers in different patterns on the end of a string, or bending the long, flexible ones into intriguing shapes. We make butterflies which flutter around the tent, or lumbering Giant Pandas. Then the kids nestle besides the glowing sticks, their own personal lighted guardians through the chilly nights.

Sit down today and plan a camping trip with family or friends
Your Ideas:_________________
Possible sites within two hours:
Unusual food treat to bring:
For simple entertainment: lightsticks, and:
Fire-making ingredients:
Field guides for hikes, animals:
One comfort of home:
Something weird & zany:
Don't forget tent and raingear!

Why does time in natural environments benefit us, from a scientific view? That's easy to explain. Humans evolved for millions of years on the savannas of Africa. We moved out of Africa into the rest of the Old World, then to the New World, living completely immersed in nature. Sensory input from the natural world is part of our biological heritage, part of what has been incorporated into the normal functioning of our genes, our nervous systems, our guts. When we cut ourselves off from the natural world, our biological systems are adrift, missing key elements of the system of cues they are accustomed to receive. Sensory input from the natural world is so fundamental that, like fish in water, we don't even realize how critical it is. But just look at people living in crowded cities to realize how easily many of us get "off-track" without it, feeling frazzled and off-center, and wondering what's gone wrong.
Tiny frogs of the family Dendrobatidae inhabit rainforests in South America. These are the creatures which produce the deadly alkaloid poisons that Cocos Indians rub on their darts to bring down large prey. The alkaloids cause sodium and potassium channels in cell membranes to misfunction. When you capture a Dendrobatid frog and take it to a laboratory in a city, the poor creature ceases producing the poisons that protect it. Why? We can't figure it out. Thought it was the food. Nope. There's something about just living in that rainforest environment that turns on the frog's "poison" genes to express themselves. Perhaps the sounds. Perhaps the smells. Perhaps the whole experience of living in the natural world where it evolved. Remove it from those inputs, and it's missing something. It's "off-center," things aren't "right."
You and I are just like these frogs. And so are redwood trees and banana slugs. We all evolved in the natural world. We need it, to stay healthy, to keep our systems functioning well. Take us out of the natural environment, isolate us from the natural world and its flow of Tao, and we suffer. You suffer, and I suffer.
Immerse yourself in the Tao. It keeps you centered. Healthier. Happier. More resilient when tough times come. The Tao is the sacred stuff that animates the universe. Cleave to it.

Find your "Laughin' Place"

Among Heather and Holly's favorite stories when they were young were the Brer Rabbit stories. They especially liked the one about Brer Rabbit's escape from Brer Fox at his "Laughin' Place," an old hickory tree full, as is turned out, of bumble bees.
Devote this weekend to finding your own Laughin' Place, an outdoors spot that just makes you feel good to be there. A spot that makes you feel connected. A spot where the particular configuration of the Tao fits with your nature, and makes you want to laugh in delight. [Insert figure 3]
You may find your Laughin' Place at one of the parks in your town. Or you may want to drive out to the countryside or up to the mountains or to the seashore to find it. But you'll know it when you find it. There'll be a "rightness" to its look and feel. A sigh of contentment will bubble out of you as you see it and hear it. Drag a lawn chair out, or buckle into your snowboard, and enjoy it. Visit it often! It's your Laughin' Place.

Postscript for families. If you’re single or part of a couple without kids, immersing yourself in the Tao every day is not too difficult. If you’re a parent raising kids, it can be a tremendous challenge just to find the time and opportunity to get yourself in the natural world every day. Get your kids there every day, too? Forget it!
I hear you. But the more often you can manage to immerse your kids in the natural world, the healthier they’ll be, too. Don’t be a dictator about it, but do what you can to get those kids away from the television or computer and outside with you. I know it’s not easy. Ash and Lou, my two youngest kids, get “stuck” in front of their computer and favorite videos, like most modern kids. Tammy and I put limits on the amount of “electronic monitor” time the kids can do every day. We prohibit any television at all, which admittedly might be tough for many families, although if you establish the pattern from the get-go, it is surprisingly do-able. But still, it’s sometimes tough to get the kids off their duffs and into the park with us. It usually helps to get a couple of their buddies to come along. Without fail, the kids love it once they get there.
When you're in the natural environment with your kids, play some games. Joseph Cornell's Sharing Nature with Children books (1979, and 1989) are fabulous sources of fun things to do with kids in nature. Cornell's activities go beyond "fun" to incorporate an appreciation for the spiritual and other values of activity in the natural world. These books can be thought of as manuals for Taoist living for families.

Chapter 2. Realizing you’re already home

Do you sometimes feel a little lost? Like you're not sure about what it means to be an adult? Maybe like you're a little kid still, deep inside, and just pretending to be an adult, hoping people don't notice that you're making things up as you go? Do you sometimes wonder where "home" is, that place where you feel right and secure and confident about yourself?
I felt this way most of my adult life, even while raising my two oldest daughters, Heather and Holly. Especially while raising Heather and Holly! I wondered if everyone felt this way, deep down. Then I began to travel to China, and on a mountain in the deepest corner of China I discovered how to get home, to a place that feels right.
Kyle and I happened to hit Mt. Emei, deep in Szechuan next to Tibet, during the early spring monsoon. A.J. was with us, an old Yale friend I'd bumped into in Peking. The weather was miserable, for humans at least--great for slime molds and slugs, though. We were drenched to the bone, and cold.
Along the muddy pathway up Mt. Emei we encountered frequent little stalls selling hot tea, duck eggs, and a variety of very bizarre items: the dried hind foot of a monkey, snake skins curled up in a tight spiral, mushrooms of every variety, bits of dried roots. [Insert figures 4 and 5] The Chinese climb mountains because they’re sacred, and climbing them brings you closer to Heaven and increases the flow of Qi energy through you. These bizarre items beside the trail are part of that endeavor: ground up and put into that hot tea in knowing combinations, they help increase the flow of Qi in the pilgrim. The pilgrim becomes healthier, feels better on many levels. Qi "works" in humans in exactly the same way it works in mushrooms and ducks and monkeys, because humans are part and parcel of the flow of energy and transformations in the world. Or as a modern Western scientist would say, the basic structure and chemical ingredients of human DNA and proteins and the biochemical transformations these molecules constantly undergo are the same in mushrooms and ducks and monkeys.
Qi (pronounced "chee," and often spelled "ch'i") can be translated as energy, or pulse, or breath, or wind. It's the agent that Tao utilizes in its pattern-giving aspect, the restless push through which Tao is manifested in the endless transformations of
existence. Qi itself can be grouped into its yin aspects (soft, yielding, earthly, feminine) and its yang aspects (hard, aggressive, heavenly, masculine). Taoism sees all things (wan wu, "the ten thousand things") as unique and characteristic combinations of yin and yang. “All things carry yin and embrace yang,” says the Tao Te Ching. “They achieve harmony by combining these forces.”
The same goes for humans. We humans are nothing extraordinary. Like redwoods and blue whales and granite and water, we have our own characteristic balance of yin and yang. We are no better or worse than anything else in the universe. We are what we are, just as banana slugs are what banana slugs are.
As Kyle, A.J. and I trudged through the cold rain up Mt. Emei, two Taoist truths began to stir in me, as I thought about the Qi in the dried snake skins and the mushrooms. How it flows through humans as well as snakes and mushrooms. First, since the Tao inheres in us humans just as it inheres in redwoods, and since the Qi flows through us in our characteristic way, just as it flows through banana slugs in their characteristic way, it follows that we humans are in a fundamental sense "OK." This is the first Taoist truth about humans: we are already what we are meant to be. We are not broken, or dramatically lost, or in need of fixing or salvation. So powerful and fundamental are Tao and Qi that it is not possible for us to depart far from them. Each of us is already “home” in the deepest sense. We are what we are supposed to be, just as a blue whale is already what it is supposed to be.
Good news! Wonderful, exhilarating news. We are in fact OK. We are home, already home. The world is a marvelous place and we humans belong in it and are worthwhile, integral parts of that marvelous whole.
"Whoa!" you say. What about that deep-down feeling sometimes, that we're just faking things, that we're not, in fact, home? Where does that come from?! And what about those monkey bones and snake skins along the trail up Mt. Emei? If we’re already home, why are we worried about changing our Qi by ingesting all sorts of weird stuff?
Good questions. That brings us to the second Taoist truth about humans: we are rather easily and regularly nudged a bit off course by our environment. Each creature has its own combination of yin and yang. Banana slugs are different than redwoods. Humans are different than other creatures primarily in being more neurologically complex and sensitive. Scientists would say this is due to the hyper-development of the human central nervous system and its attendant sensory receptors. Now, this heightened sensitivity gives us deep emotions and wonderful music and art. But it also means that we humans are strongly affected by the flow of Qi in our environment, both from other creatures (plants, other animals, including humans) and from things like sunsets and fields of wildflowers and violent movies and being drenched to the bone by cold rain on a mountain.

Mt. Emei's Two Truths:

We're already "home" where we belong.

We're easily nudged a bit "off-center."

This heightened sensitivity to the flow of Qi in our environment results in our being easily and regularly nudged off course by our interactions with the world. Our personal, individual "setting" of the general human balance of yin and yang is always getting tipped away from our optimal balance. We get too yin, or too yang. Not by a lot. We couldn’t depart very far from what we are. We are, in fact, already home in the most fundamental sense. But we certainly can and do get bumped out of optimal balance—the second Taoist truth about humans.
So we all occasionally feel a bit "lost," not on track the way we'd like to be. And if we misunderstand what's going on, if we miscalculate and panic about this feeling, we can really get bent out of shape. Frazzled, way off-balance. Off-center. Maybe even despairing.
Hence the mushrooms and roots and dried snake skins along the trail up Mt. Emei. Hence the deer antlers and feng shuei and acupuncture and tai chi you see so prominent throughout China. These are all mild methods to regularly nudge us back on track, to keep us from straying too far from home. Indeed, all the daily Taoist habits that permeate everyday life in China are similar mild methods to keep the people there on track.
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What are the specific habits that we can adopt here in America to reflect these two Taoist truths about humans? The habits to nudge us back on track? A whole range of habits flow from these two truths, but they can in general be grouped into two overarching and very general habits.
The first Taoist habit emerging from these truths is that we can relax. We're already home. All we need is a bit of fine-tuning to unclutter the view. Relaxing encompasses both our attitude and our actions. We can drop our attitude of fear and panic. There's no need to rush around pursuing dramatic projects to fundamentally improve ourselves. No need to enroll in crash courses to "fix" broken hearts or minds or bodies. No heroics are called for. In fact, heroic measures only succeed in pushing us farther away from who we really are, and almost always fail to stick in the long run. Dramatic conversions and life-changes make great TV and bring money to evangelists and gurus alike, but they don't last long, typically. They are fantasies, and fantasies take extraordinary amounts of energy to sustain. And often money as well.
We’re constantly being told by very powerful, sophisticated, and intrusive media that we’re in trouble. That we’re dangerously far from whole. That we need to quickly purchase some “things” to fix a serious problem, whether it’s mouthwash or cool basketball shoes or a seminar in "self-actualization" or a home with a three-car garage in a gated community. So we take half a dozen quick breathes, clench our teeth, reach for the checkbook, and plunge into frantic endeavor to solve our “problem,” to fix what’s so horribly "broken" about us.
Relax. Relax into who you really are. Nothing is required to get home. It's right here; no need to search across forbidding landscapes to get there. Your home is right in the center of you. Not far! The farther afield you roam in search of yourself, the farther away from your center you wander. It's possible to get really confused and feel thoroughly lost if you bend considerable energy to wandering afield, to fighting your way past threatening obstacles, to fleeing away from your center. The good news, though, is that it's possible to find your way back. All you need to do is relax, abandon the feverish pursuit, and come home to the center you carry within you. Attend to the Tao that inheres in every cell of you. Let the Qi flow simply and purely through you. Welcome home.

Remembering You're Home, and Enjoying Life
Buy a nice journal today, a durable one with a look you like. In the following weeks and months, write in it the activities that make you happy, the times that bring a smile to your face, the things you've done that make your heart feel full.
When you're feeling low and bent out of shape, pick up the journal and read through it. Remind yourself that the Tao is flowing, that you are involved in that flow, that "home" is as close as your heart.
Do the things in your journal more often.


Fine-tuning your Qi balance and uncluttering your view of home is a lot like my listening to a San Francisco Giants baseball game on the radio on my back porch. The dial is set on AM 680. But atmospheric conditions mess up the reception, so that I have to occasionally rotate the radio and its antenna this way or that to bring the game in clearly. Sometimes the static is pretty intense, and I can barely hear if it was Bonds or Snow who hit that home run. But I know I’m tuned in, and if I just relax, and fiddle a bit, the reception will return soon enough.
The Taoist habits are how we re-orient ourselves to eliminate the static. To let the signals of Tao and Qi come in clear and true.
You'll find it easier to drop into and maintain a relaxed attitude if you express it with relaxed actions. These relaxed actions can take a variety of specific forms, depending on your own makeup. You'll know, or be able to find, what actions work best for you to help you relax and enjoy life.
Quiet times work well with me--when I can get them! Sitting in my favorite chair drinking tea, or riding my bike through the park. My wife Tammy gets a professional massage toward the end of every week. It's not cheap, but it's effective, and it keeps Tammy functioning well in her many roles of wife, mother, kindergarten teacher, and companion to her many friends. Other people keep candles lit in the house, particularly in the winter. The flickering flames have a wonderful, calming effect. For others, a long, hot bath at the end of the day does the trick. Or maybe a long, hot shower at the start of the day. Or both! Whatever it takes to calm you, to center you, to remind you that you're home, and give you the "ballast" to carry into your many daily activities.

Cultivate Relaxing Habits
Here's my list. Sit down this week and make your own list.

Barnett's list Your List_____
Snorkeling
Making tea and drinking it
Reading in a favorite chair
Bicycling in the park
Candles, incense
A hot shower to finish the day

I know it's difficult to relax in our modern West. We have so many responsibilities, so many needs, so many things claiming our attention that seem important. So if Mt. Emei's two truths about humans lead us to the Taoist habit of relaxing, they also lead us to a second habit: simplify your life, to make it easier to relax and enjoy being "home."
Simplifying your life involves pruning things out of it--and not just unhealthy things. Every gardener knows that a tree or bush needs to have some perfectly healthy branches cut off periodically, to keep the plant as a whole healthy and balanced. Serious simplification of your life means letting go of good things as well as bad.
Bow out of half or all those good causes you work for. What good is it to save the world if you’re unhappy in it? Relax. Simplify. Get your own life in order, first. Then, gently reach out into a bit larger circle.
Our friends Bob and Susan, even though they both make a good salary, surprised us by fixing up their existing home rather than plunging into a larger, more expensive house (and increased mortgage!) several years ago. Last summer they were able to take their family on a vacation to Europe. They enriched their lives, by choosing not to complicate their living arrangements.

Exploring ways to simplify your life
Look at your calendar or palm pilot for the last month. How many nights and weekends were you away from home? Circle the activities in green that you most enjoyed; circle the ones in black that you least enjoyed. Now consider how you could eliminate the black ones and focus on the green ones. Be ruthless.
Think back over the past several months. Is there an activity or two that kept you from things you like to do? Some activity that required a whole lot more time or energy than you'd have liked to give it?
What would it take to prune that activity down to manageable size? How could you approach it differently? Is it possible or desirable to cut it out of your life altogether? Be creative.
Find a quiet spot and think about your job. How could you streamline your tasks, to accomplish them with more efficiency and less crises? Are there ways to schedule or redefine your responsibilities to permit you to accomplish them better?
Now the big question: would a new job simplify your life or complicate it? What type of new job might simplify your life? Is training available to qualify you for such a job? Be bold.

Ash and Lou are full of energy and enthusiasm. If we let them, they’d take half a dozen extracurricular sport, music, and drama activities. All good, worthwhile activities. We try to limit them to two, each, any given semester, though. Things are busy enough with just two activities beyond school. Our lives would plunge into chaos if we tried to do more. Believe me. We’ve tried, and it wasn’t pretty.
You can easily think of many ways, from major to minor, to simplify your own life and create the conditions where you can relax and enjoy life. Consider whether you really need that promotion that’s going to require you and your family to move to yet another city. Decline a dinner invitation every now and then, and spend the time instead with yourself or your family.
Simplify your life, so you can relax, and revel in the clear realization that you’re home. You’re in good shape, nothing serious to fix, and nothing to do but let the Qi flow and enjoy the richness of life. Your Taoist habits will keep you on course.

Simple daily habits that give health, balance, and joy to our everyday lives, by linking us to the larger rhythms of the planet and to the vital bedrock of existence. Introducing the practical wisdom of China's folk culture to modern America.

"A heartening, inspiring, timely book on the art of living."
--Susan G. Wooldridge, author of Poemcrazy

"Raymond Barnett's superb book brings ancient wisdom from the East to the challenge of living well in the West--even in the midst of accelerating change, technological dominance, and overchoice."
--Dr. Walt Schafer,author of Stress Management for Wellness

"A most unusual self-help book: a breezy and useful guide to more healthful living; an enlightening introduction to everyday Chinese life and Taoism; and, in its most touching aspect, an account of how Barnett used Taoist practices to help himself and his family overcome a great personal loss."
--Chico News and Review