So I decided to start over, this time accepting him at his word when he says--“My 言yán words are very easy to 知zhī understand.” Why doubt him on this? That would be to presume that I, a university student, knew better than the same author from whom I sought to learn. That is not a serious way to inquire. So, I began again, and when his 言yán words seemed difficult rather than easy, I asked myself what I was overlooking or over complicating, or simply refusing to 見jiàn see.

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     What I discovered is that Lao Tzu himself tells us how to approach his words. He is quite clear about this in a number of places, and I’ll point these out as we journey through the lessons.

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     We academics have made great strides in understanding Lao Tzu’s words within their historical, linguistic and cultural contexts. These are important. But I think that too often we have 過guò passed by their very simple meaning. Lao Tzu, whoever he is, was not writing to us scholars. He was writing to every serious person who would listen.

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   And, while our academic disciplines are helpful in so many ways, at the same time we may inadvertently be spinning our own spider’s web, leaving us in a precarious tangle of our own making.

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    This site is not an effort to untangle our own webs. It is an encouragement to step away from them when needed. It is fine that we bring with us all the 知zhī knowledge that we have gained through our various studies and life-experiences. But we must also be ready, at times, to set these aside and head off in an entirely different direction when that is needed. As we will see, this is precisely what Lao Tzu encourages us to do.

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​PG

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