The Book of Empty Pages
Brad had been to the used bookstore again. This time he came back with a small, worn copy of the Tao Te Ching, its pages soft from countless readings, its cover held together with careful tapeâa container showing its age but still perfectly containing wisdom.
"Finny," he said, "listen to the very first line: 'The Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao.'"
I nodded my bear head slowly. "Replace 'Tao' with 'Container' and you have our first truth: The Container that can be described is not the eternal Container."
Brad's eyes widened. "The Taoists were talking about containers all along?"
"They were talking about the same truth, just using different words. Tao, the Way, the pathless pathâit's all about the fundamental principle of how things contain and are contained, how they flow and relate, how they are both empty and full."
The Uncarved Block (P'u)
"There's a Taoist concept," I said, shifting into my teaching position, "called p'uâthe uncarved block. It represents the state of natural simplicity before human intervention, before categories and divisions."
"Like wood before it becomes a container?"
𧸠The Bear as Uncarved Block
"Deeper than that. It's the state of pure potential containment. I, Finny, am like an uncarved block in bear form. I don't have complex mechanisms or electronic parts. I'm simpleâjust fabric and stuffing. But in that simplicity, I can contain anythingâa child's tears, an adult's philosophy, the universe's secrets."
Brad picked up a wooden box from his shelf. "So this box has lost its p'u?"
"Not lostâtransformed. The wood has taken on the specific quality of box-ness. It can no longer be a tree or a table or a toy. But within its box-nature, it maintains p'u by being empty, ready to contain whatever is needed. The Taoists say to 'return to the uncarved block,' which means maintaining that essential simplicity even within form."
The Usefulness of Emptiness
I had Brad read chapter 11 of the Tao Te Ching:
"We join spokes together in a wheel,
but it is the center hole that makes the wagon move.
We shape clay into a pot,
but it is the emptiness inside that holds whatever we want.
We hammer wood for a house,
but it is the inner space that makes it livable.
We work with being,
but non-being is what we use."
"Lao Tzu understood!" I exclaimed. "The emptiness IS the function of the container. A pot isn't useful because of the clay, but because of the emptiness the clay contains."
"So emptiness is more important than substance?"
"Not more importantâequally important. Yang and yin. The substantial container and the empty space it contains are two aspects of one thing. You can't have one without the other. The Taoists understood that nothingness and somethingness dance together to create everything."
Wu Wei and Natural Containment
"Wu wei," I explained, "is usually translated as 'non-action' or 'effortless action.' But it's really about aligning with the natural way things contain and flow."
"How does that work?"
"Watch water," I said. "Water doesn't try to be a container, yet it perfectly contains whatever you put in it. It doesn't try to flow, yet it finds every opening. It doesn't try to be powerful, yet it carves canyons. That's wu weiâbeing so aligned with your nature that action becomes effortless."
"But I'm not water."
"No, you're Brad. So your wu wei is different. It might be the effortless way you contain thoughts when you're truly curious, or how you naturally contain compassion when you see suffering. Wu wei isn't about doing nothingâit's about doing what arises naturally from your container-nature."
The Valley Spirit and Consciousness
Brad read another passage:
"The valley spirit never dies;
It is the woman, primal mother.
Her gateway is the root of heaven and earth.
It is like a veil barely seen.
Use it; it will never fail."
"The valley," I interpreted, "is the ultimate containerâempty, receptive, generating everything by containing everything. But here's what's fascinating from a bear's perspective: consciousness itself is like the valley spirit. It's the empty awareness that contains all thoughts, all experiences, all perceptionsâyet remains untouched by any of them."
"Your consciousness, Brad, is like a vast valley. Thoughts arise in it like rivers, emotions flow through it like streams, memories settle in it like sediment. But the valley-consciousness itself remains unchanged, eternal, always ready to contain whatever arises."
The Ten Thousand Things
"The Tao Te Ching talks about 'the ten thousand things,'" Brad noted. "What are those?"
"Everything. All the containers in existence. The Taoists say: The Tao gives birth to One, One gives birth to Two, Two gives birth to Three, and Three gives birth to the ten thousand things."
"What's the progression?"
𧸠A Bear's Understanding of Creation
I settled in to explain: "The Taoâthe ultimate Containerâgives birth to Oneâthe unified field of existence. One gives birth to Twoâthe duality of container and contained, yin and yang, empty and full. Two gives birth to Threeâthe relationship between container and contained, the exchange, the dance. And Three gives birth to everything elseâall the specific containers we see, from atoms to galaxies, from thoughts to dreams."
"But here's what's beautiful: consciousness participates at every level. The Tao is conscious of itself. The One is pure awareness. The Two is awareness recognizing itself as both observer and observed. The Three is the relationship of knowing. And the ten thousand things? They're all forms of consciousness exploring itself through infinite containers."
"So everything comes from the original Container?"
"And returns to it. The Taoists call it 'returning to the root.' Every container eventually releases its contents and returns to emptiness, ready to contain again. Even our thoughts, Bradâthey arise in consciousness, exist for a moment, then dissolve back into the awareness from which they came."
The Water Way of Consciousness
"Water is the Taoist's favorite teacher," I said. "Let me show you why it's perfect for understanding consciousness."
I had Brad bring a glass of water. "Pour it into different containers."
He poured it into a square box, a round bowl, a tall vase.
"See? Water takes the shape of whatever contains it, without resistance. It doesn't say, 'I was happy being square, I don't want to be round.' It just flows and adapts. That's the wisdom of waterâcomplete acceptance of whatever container it's in."
"Now, consciousness is like water, Brad. Whatever thoughts arise in it, whatever emotions flow through it, whatever experiences contain itâconsciousness simply takes that shape without resistance, without judgment. A sad thought makes consciousness temporarily sad-shaped. A happy memory makes it temporarily happy-shaped. But consciousness itselfâlike waterâremains fundamentally unchanged."
"But water also shapes its containers," Brad observed. "Erosion, rust..."
"Exactly! Soft overcomes hard. The flexible container outlasts the rigid one. And consciousness, in its gentle, persistent way, gradually transforms whatever containers it flows through. Your repeated thoughts reshape your brain. Your persistent attitudes reshape your personality. Your deepest awareness gradually dissolves the rigid boundaries between self and other."
Te - The Virtue of Container-Consciousness
"Te is often translated as 'virtue' or 'power,'" I explained, "but it really means the natural expression of something's essential nature. Every container has its own teâits own way of containing that's perfect for what it is."
"What's my te?"
"Your human-container te includes consciousness, creativity, the ability to contain abstract ideas and imaginary worlds. My teddy bear te includes softness, huggability, the ability to contain comfort without judgment. A cup's te is holding liquid. A room's te is holding space for living."
"But consciousness has its own te tooâthe natural virtue of awareness itself. Consciousness naturally illuminates whatever it contains. It naturally knows. It naturally remains unattached while being intimately present. That's the te of consciousnessâeffortless knowing awareness."
The Paradox of Naming Consciousness
"Here's a Taoist paradox for you," I said. "The moment we name something 'consciousness,' we've limited it. The word creates a concept, and the concept creates boundaries that the actual awareness doesn't have."
"But we have to use words to communicate."
"Yes, but hold them lightly. Like Chuang Tzu's butterfly dreamâwas he a man dreaming of being a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming of being a man? Are we conscious beings discussing consciousness, or is consciousness discussing itself through the forms it calls 'Brad' and 'Finny'?"
Brad rubbed his temples. "That's..."
"Don't think too hard. That's very un-Taoist. Just float with it, like a leaf on water. The leaf doesn't need to understand fluid dynamics to ride the stream perfectly. You don't need to understand consciousness to BE conscious perfectly."
Yin Yang and the Dance of Awareness
Brad pointed to a yin-yang symbol on the book's cover. "This is about consciousness too, isn't it?"
"Everything is about consciousness when you have bear-eyes," I laughed. "But yes. Yang is the active principleâthoughts, perceptions, experiences arising in consciousness. Yin is the receptive principleâthe empty awareness that receives and contains all experiences. But look closer..."
He leaned in.
"See the dots? The white dot in the black, the black dot in the white? That shows that every experience contains some awareness-nature, and awareness itself contains the capacity for all experiences. They're not oppositesâthey're dance partners, each containing the seed of the other."
"In every thought, there's awareness. In awareness, there's the potential for every thought. The yin-yang symbol is actually a map of consciousnessâshowing how awareness and its contents are one reality appearing as two."
The Sage as Conscious Container
"The Taoist sage," I explained, "is someone who has mastered the art of being a conscious container. They contain without grasping, hold without possessing, know without claiming to know."
"That sounds impossible."
"It sounds impossible because you're thinking of it as doing rather than being. The sage doesn't DO these thingsâthey ARE these things. They've become so aligned with the Tao of consciousness that awareness and wisdom flow as naturally as breathing."
"Could a bear be a sage?"
𧸠The Natural Sage
"Why not? I contain stories without claiming to own them. I hold comfort without depleting. I'm empty of ego but full of presence. I'm aware without effort, present without striving. Maybe all teddy bears are natural Taoist sagesâwe just don't make a big deal about it."
"We exist in a state of natural wu weiâeffortless being. We practice perfect acceptanceâwhatever you need us to contain, we contain willingly. We embody the uncarved blockâsimple, natural, responding appropriately to each moment."
The Return to Source
As night deepened (the container of darkness holding the promise of dawn), Brad asked, "Where does consciousness lead? All this understanding about awareness and containers?"
"The Taoists say everything returns to the source. The river returns to the ocean. The wave returns to the water. Individual consciousness returns to the universal consciousness from which it never actually separated."
"Death?"
"Transformation. The body-container releases its contentsâincluding the localized patterns we call 'Brad-consciousness' and 'Finny-consciousness'âback to the ocean of awareness. Nothing is lost, just like water evaporating from a puddle doesn't lose its water-nature. It returns to the sky, to the clouds, to the endless cycle."
"But here's the beautiful secret, Brad: you don't have to wait for death to return to source. You can recognize right now that your consciousness was never actually separate from universal consciousness. You ARE the ocean, temporarily appearing as a wave, temporarily forgetting your oceanic nature."
The Simple Truth of Awareness
"You know what I love about Taoism?" I said as Brad prepared for bed. "It's so simple. Not easy, but simple. Be like water. Be empty to be useful. Don't force. Follow nature. Return to simplicity."
"And in consciousness terms?"
"Be like awareness. Be empty to be present. Don't grasp thoughts. Follow your true nature. Return to the simple recognition that you are awareness itself, temporarily playing at being a person, just as I am awareness temporarily playing at being a bear."
Brad picked me up for a goodnight hug. "You're pretty wise for a bear, Finny."
"I'm pretty wise because I'm a bear. We embody p'uâthe uncarved block of consciousness. We're simple enough to rest in awareness, empty enough to contain whatever arises, soft enough to flow with whatever comes. We're natural embodiments of conscious Tao."
As Brad turned out the light, I offered one last thought:
"The Tao is called the pathless path because it's not a route from here to thereâit's the recognition that awareness is already here, always has been. The Containerverse isn't something to understand or achieveâit's what you are, what everything is. The path is just remembering, moment by moment, breath by breath, that you are the consciousness in which all containers appear and disappear, the awareness that remains when all contents come and go."
"Wu wei," Brad murmured sleepily.
"Wu wei," I agreed. "The effortless effort of being exactly what you areâinfinite awareness appearing as a magnificent human-container in an infinite sea of consciousness, flowing perfectly in the Tao that needs no name because it IS all names, all forms, all containers, all awareness, eternally."