The Scholar Stays Home

Xuefeng

The ancients said, " "A scholar may not leave his home, yet he knows the affairs of the world."

Laozi said, “Without leaving home, one can know the world; without peering through the window, one can see the Way of Heaven. The farther one travels, the less one understands. Therefore, the sage knows without acting, sees without looking, and accomplishes without doing."

This is quite fascinating. Sitting in front of a computer connected to the internet, one can almost know everything happening in the world; without traveling, one can appreciate the beauty of the world; without going to the cinema, one can watch films; without attending concerts, one can listen to beautiful melodies and singers' voices; without meeting face-to-face, one can chat freely; without rushing about, one can complete transactions; without going to the post office, one can instantly send messages to others; without visiting the library, one can read a vast range of books; without searching high and low, one can admire the naked beauty of stunning women; without physical contact, one can make love with the person they desire... One can not only know the world without leaving home, but also gain from it.

Marvelous!

"The farther one travels, the less one knows" suggests that the farther one rushes outward, the less one actually learns, which seems to contradict the saying, "Read thousands of books and travel thousands of miles." So, which perspective is correct?

"Read ten thousand books, and your writing will flow with divine inspiration," and by traveling extensively, one learns about shortcuts. This advice, however, is aimed at the general populace. I agree with Laozi’s perspective: if one can awaken their spiritual awareness, they can understand that autumn arrives from the fall of a single leaf, and with closed eyes, they can travel thousands of miles in an instant. If one lets their thoughts constantly rush outward, they will be trapped in the monotonous phenomena of the external world, exhausting both body and mind. In the end, after traversing mountains and valleys, one will gain nothing beyond knowledge and experience.

I don't know where Bodhidharma went during his nine years of facing the wall, but throughout history, meditation has allowed people to enter the realm of the nonmaterial. In the depths of stillness, the mind can traverse the tunnels of time and space, soaring freely; one can enjoy the beautiful sights of the heavens and envision limitless futures. Such experiences are inaccessible to those whose minds are absorbed in the constant hustle and bustle of the outside world.

The sage knows without acting. Without television, radio, computers, the internet, newspapers, magazines, or hearsay, how can one know without going out? Wouldn’t one become like a frog at the bottom of a well? Certainly not, for Laozi is not speaking about ordinary people, but about sages. For the average person, they must strive to act, as only through action can knowledge be gained—otherwise, they would remain ignorant. But for sages, they already know: when an apple ripens, it will fall; water naturally flows downhill. Without cultivation, humans will inevitably succumb to “When one is full and warm, lustful desires arise; when one is hungry and cold, thoughts of theft emerge.” The seasons will inevitably change; if men remain unmarried and women unwed, they will inevitably resort to petty crimes or illicit affairs; otherwise, they will be consumed by their desires. Fish will swim in the water... By grasping one concept, one can infer many others. There's no need to act or personally verify everything.

The sage sees without looking. A philosopher once said, "I see more clearly when I close my eyes." Indeed, what one sees may be deceptive, and looking may only lead to confusion. "Distance tests a horse’s strength, and time reveals a person’s heart." Does that mean what we see initially is not the true nature? Form is emptiness; emptiness is form. What appears as form is actually emptiness, and what we cannot see, the emptiness, is actually form. Imagine a person from birth to death—must they not walk the same path trodden by those before them, eating the same food? Despite countless variations, the essence does not change. Whether calm or tempestuous, it is still water. In the Tathagata Buddha's palm, “Heaven’s net is vast, and though its meshes are wide, nothing escapes it.” There is no need to look; one understands without looking. I may be occasionally arrogant and tell someone, "Without my guidance, you will never escape the Cave of the Silken Web," and whether they believe it or not, their path is as obvious as "lice on a bald head"—a clear truth. “Seeing harms the mind, and cleverness obstructs one’s understanding of the Tao.” Where can one run? There is no escape!

The sage accomplishes without doing. How strange! How can one accomplish anything without action Can one expect a harvest in autumn if one has not sown seeds in spring? Can one obtain a university degree without attending school every day? Can a sumptuous meal suddenly appear on the table without effort? Can one acquire wealth without working or trading? Can one live as long as a pine tree on the southern mountain without exercise or health care? Accomplishing without action? This really leaves one “scratching their head in confusion.” Yet, upon reflection, there is truth in it: “Lose in the east, gain in the west; the old man loses his horse, but it might be a blessing in disguise.” “Good fortune lies within bad, and bad fortune lurks within good.” “When you intentionally plant flowers, they may not bloom; when you accidentally plant willows, they grow into shade.” Accomplishing without action, there may be divine protection in the unseen. “A virtuous person who does not seek blessings will naturally receive them; a schemer who tries to avoid misfortune will find it instead.” What good is cleverness? “Rather than standing by the river envying the fish, it is wiser to go home and weave a net for oneself.” Instead of pursuing with restless effort, it is wiser to find tranquility, allowing one's vision to extend far and one's heart to illuminate the true nature of things.

Therefore, the Buddha said: “All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, and shadows; like dew and lightning—thus should you view them.” “All sages and wise ones differ only in their practice of non-action.”

It seems the scholar does not leave his home for good reason!