To Be Useless
evening out our usefulness
dear creators,
Have you ever considered the value of a useless life? I know it probably sounds like a downer but worrying about being useful all the time can be a complete drag. I catch myself getting really hung-up on having purpose, direction, and continual growth…even when I’m fully aware that nature cannot sustain growth without its opposite.
One of the reasons that I love Taoist philosophy is that it points out the one-sidedness of the cultural values I was raised on and offers a perspective beyond the ‘progress’ machine we’re maxed-out in.
I’ve already mentioned the famous Taoist philosopher, Lao Tzu, but I’m also really into the more humorous and relatable writings of Chuang Tzu (~4th Century BCE). A big part of my appreciation for The Book of Chuang Tzu is its concern with life and the growth of the individual spirit and not with governing people and affairs (he was totally opposed to Confucian values of order, control and hierarchy).
Chuang Tzu says a lot about the value of the useless and exaggerates to make his point (giving us a chance to laugh at ourselves). Here’s one example (source posted at the end):
“Carpenter Shih went to Ch’i and, when he got to Crooked Shaft, he saw a serrate oak standing by the village shrine. It was broad enough to shelter several thousand oxen and measured a hundred spans around, towering above the hills. The lowest branches were eighty feet from the ground, and a dozen or so of them could have been made into boats. There were so many sightseers that the place looked like a fair, but the carpenter didn’t even glance around and went on his way without stopping.
His apprentice stood staring for a long time and then ran after Carpenter Shih and said, “Since I first took up my ax and followed you, Master, I have never seen timber as beautiful as this. But you don’t even bother to look, and go right on without stopping. Why is that?”
“Forget it—say no more!” said the carpenter. “It’s a worthless tree! Make boats out of it and they’d sink; make coffins and they’d rot in no time; make vessels and they’d break at once. Use it for doors and it would sweat sap like pine; use it for posts and the worms would eat them up. It’s not a timber tree—there’s nothing it can be used for. That’s how it got to be that old!”
After Carpenter Shih had returned home, the oak tree appeared to him in a dream and said, “What are you comparing me with? Are you comparing me with those useful trees? The cherry apple, the pear, the orange, the citron, the rest of those fructiferous trees and shrubs—as soon as their fruit is ripe, they are torn apart and subjected to abuse. Their big limbs are broken off, their little limbs are yanked around. Their utility makes life miserable for them, and so they don’t get to finish out the years Heaven gave them, but are cut off in mid-journey. They bring it on themselves—the pulling and tearing of the common mob. And it’s the same way with all other things.
As for me, I’ve been trying a long time to be of no use, and though I almost died, I’ve finally got it. This is of great use to me. If I had been of some use, would I ever have grown this large? Moreover, you and I are both of us things. What’s the point of this—things condemning things? You, a worthless man about to die—how do you know I’m a worthless tree?”
Logically speaking, this idea of aiming to be useless seems absurd— if everyone was going for this, wouldn’t it be pointless and utter chaos? Well yeah, if we take it too literally.
When British philosopher, Alan Watts, discussed this topic, he said,
“These things are said by way of a kind of over-stress to correct another kind of over-stress in the opposite direction. When a Japanese scholar many years ago explained the teaching of Buddhism to me, he said something I had never heard anybody else say: that the Buddha taught, for example, that life is suffering in order to correct the wrong view that it ought to be pleasure. He said that everything is impermanent in order to correct the wrong view that reality lasts forever in time. So the idea of the Middle Way is set up in this fashion by going to one extreme in order to correct another.”
Looking out the window, just now, and seeing clouds drift along I could easily argue that they are useful (moisture bearers). But are the clouds planning out and vision-boarding their destination? Are they concerned with time? They don’t appear to be busy like we’re expected to be (all the damn time) and they serve no end other than being what they are now.
The first time I consciously experienced this liberating uselessness was in making art without any regard for it’s purpose, meaning, destination, merit, identity, origin etc. I feel most alive creating in this way and everything that needs to seems to work out. There’s humour and a light-heartedness in the contradiction of finding power in what could be taken as totally naive.
Such power is mentioned in Chapter 55 of the Tao Te Ching. Here’s one interpretation of that text:
“Those who have true te
Are like a newborn baby.
[…]
A baby is weak and supple, but his hand can grasp your finger.
He has no desire as yet, and yet he can be erect—
he can cry day and night without even getting hoarse
such is the depth of his harmony.
It’s stupid to rush around.
When you fight against yourself, it shows in your face.
But if you draw your sap from your heart
then you will be truly strong.
You will be great.”
That one line, “When you fight against yourself, it shows in your face”, really hit me. Have you ever had one of those days— you come home from work and startle yourself in the mirror? A friend of mine said she’s done this and asked herself, “When did I start looking like one of my least favourite relatives?!”
If you feel burdened by ideas of success, purpose, goals, reason, etc., maybe try on a sense of useless that sets you free from all that so that you might simply exist… as you are wherever you are.
Keep the beat,
~Corrie
Sources:
The Book of Chuang Tzu (trans. by Martin Palmer with Elizabeth Breuilly, Chang Was Ming and Jay Ramsay). Penguin Books Ltd. London, England (2006).
Chuang Tzu: Basic Writings (trans. by Burton Watson). New York: Columbia University Press (1996), pp. 59-61.
Alan Watts source in link: https://www.organism.earth/library/document/wisdom-of-the-ridiculous