Identical Differences

This talk opens with a zen master's death poem, "from the bathtub to the bathtub," as a way into the theme of purposelessness. Watts moves through birdsong, the courtship displays of animals, and the image of living creatures as simple tubes that take things in at one end and let them out the other, mocking the engineering minded logic that treats survival itself as a purpose that needs no further justification. He contrasts this with the Chinese idea that nature is purposeless as a compliment, and the Japanese concept of yugen, watching wild geese vanish into cloud or a ship disappear behind an island, as a model of purposeless attention. Walking without a destination, listening to music, and dancing are offered as examples of activity whose point lies entirely in the present moment rather than in arriving somewhere. He recalls being told as a child to follow God's purpose without anyone able to say what that purpose actually was, and reinterprets the heavenly host's endless hallelujahs and the command to "draw the line somewhere" as evidence that creation itself began as play rather than plan. The talk closes on the choice of whether to trust one's own nature, illustrated by the image of a man unable to throw an ashtray because he cannot bring himself to let go of it, and ties that trust back to Lao Tzu's Tao, which nourishes all things without lording it over them.
transcriptmachine-transcribed, unedited
A great Zen master said as his death poem, just before he died, "From the bathtub to
the bathtub, I have uttered stuff and nonsense.
The bathtub in which the baby is washed at birth, the bathtub in which the corpse is
washed before burial, all this time I have said many nonsenses.
Like the birds in the trees go, "Twee, twee, twee, twee, twee, what's it all about?"
Everybody tries to say, "Ah, it's a mating call."
The purpose of trying to get their mate, you know, attract them with a song.
That's why they have colors and butterflies, have eyes on them, self-protection, engineering
view of the universe.
Why do that?
They say, "Well, it's because they need to survive."
"Oh, why survive?
What's that for?"
"Well, to survive."
See, human beings, really a lot of tubes, and all living creatures, just tubes.
And the tubes have to put things in at one end and let it out at the other.
Then they get clever about it and they develop nerve ganglia on one end of the tube, the
eating end, called a head.
And that's got eyes in it, it's got ears in it, it's got little organs, antenna and things
like this, and that helps you to find things to put in one end so that you can let them
out the other.
Well, while you're doing this, you see, the stuff going through wears the tube out.
And so, that the show can go on, the tubes have complicated ways of making other tubes,
who go on doing the same thing, in at one end, out the other.
And they say, "Well, that's terribly serious."
"That's awfully important, we've got to keep on doing this."
But when Chinese say nature is purposeless, this is a compliment.
It's like the idea of the Japanese have a word, "Yugen," and they describe Yugen as watching
wild geese fly and be hidden in the clouds, as watching a ship vanish behind a distant
island, as wandering on and on in a great forest with no thought of return.
Haven't you done this?
Have you gone on a walk with no particular purpose in mind?
Carry a stick with you, and you occasionally hit at old stumps, and wander along, and sometimes
twiddle your thumbs?
It's at that moment that you are a perfectly rational human being.
You've learned purposelessness.
All music is purposeless.
Is music getting somewhere?
If it were, I mean, if the aim of music, of a symphony, were to get to the final bar,
the best conductor would be the one who got there fastest.
See, dancing, when you dance, do you aim to arrive at a particular place on the floor?
Is that the idea of dancing?
The aim of dancing is to dance, is the present.
Well, it's exactly the same with our life.
We think life has a purpose.
I remember the preachers used to say, when I was a small boy, I'd always hear it, "We
must follow God's purpose, His purpose for you, and His purpose for me."
When I asked these cats what the purpose was, they never knew.
They didn't know what it was.
They had a hymn, "God is working His purpose out as year succeeds the year.
God is working His purpose out and the time is drawing near.
The time when the earth shall be full of the glory of God as the waters cover the sea."
What's the glory of God?
Well, they weren't quite sure.
I'll tell you what it is.
In heaven, all those angels are gathered round the glory of God.
That is to say, the witch than which there is no witcher.
Catholics call it the beatific vision, the Jews call it the Shekinah.
They're all those angels.
And they're standing around it and they're saying, "Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah,
hallelujah."
It means nothing.
They're just having a ball.
See, that's what happened in the beginning.
When God created the universe, it was created like all stars, all planets, all galaxies,
they're vaguely spherical.
He created this and He said, "Have a ball."
But before He said that, He said, "You must draw the line somewhere."
That was the real thing He said first.
"Before let there be light."
That came later.
The first thing was, "You must draw the line somewhere.
Otherwise nothing will happen."
You know, you've got to have the good guys, the bad guys.
You've got to have this, you've got to have that.
You've got to have black and white, light and darkness.
Must draw the line somewhere.
Now, here's the choice then.
Are you going to trust it or not?
If you do trust it, you may get let down.
And this "it" is yourself, your own nature, and all nature around you.
There are going to be mistakes.
But if you don't trust it at all, you're going to strangle yourself.
You're going to fence yourself around with rules and regulations and laws and prescriptions
and policemen and guards.
And who's going to guard the guards?
And who's going to look after Big Brother to be sure that he doesn't do something stupid?
No go.
Supposing I get annoyed with somebody in the audience and I'm going to throw this ashtray
at them.
But I don't want to hit my friend sitting next to that person.
I want to be absolutely sure this ashtray hits that individual.
And so I don't trust myself to throw it.
I have to carry it along and be sure I hit that person on the head.
See, I don't throw it because I can't let go of it.
To throw it, I must let go of it.
To live, I must have faith.
I must trust myself to the totally unknown.
I must trust myself to a nature which doesn't have a boss.
Because a boss is a system of mistrust.
That is why Lao Tzu's Tao loves and nourishes all things, but does not lord it over them.
over them.

a lecture on zhuangzi's taoist philosophy, covering the value of uselessness, relativism, wu wei, and the eternal present moment.

a 1971 lecture at the first unitarian church in san francisco in which alan watts uses the hindu goddess kali as a counterimage to god the father, arguing that fixed images of god


