A Taoist Exercise
In Training Taxi Drivers

When people ask me to reconcile integrating both Taoist and Buddhist thinking into my daily life, I tell them I don't see any contradictions. The Buddha sits. The Taoists move. It's about being in a place while you're there. When you're on the road, it's best to observe the laws of change.

I put Taoism into practice when I'm crossing the Shanghai streets. But this is a rather recent development. For in Shanghai, as in all Chinese cities, cars observe laws of size and perceived priority. Cars have priority over pedestrians, so taxi drivers think pedestrians are supposed to shirk back at their beeping. At first I did this, just because I was scared. Then I started fighting back.

I asserted that the taxi drivers were dogs. Dogs that need training. So I began training them.

I would march out to the edge of disaster. If the taxi driver tested me and I jumped back, I'd just knock his side view mirror in. Or bang his trunk. Or, if the approach was slow, just tap his hood and wag my finger at him. During the rain, when every cab is full, the situation is perilous. My crumpled umbrellas are testament to the fact that I have solely supported a small percentage of the umbrella industry in this fine city. Then I learned that the law was on my side.

A recent development in city law is that motorists are at fault for all harm done to pedestrians, even if the pedestrian swerves wildly into a crosswalk in search of some insurance payout. After I learned this, I realized a law of motion: Taxi drivers will swerve, they will stop. If they don't, they get judicial wrath and have to pay for my metal hip implant.

So we swerve. We dodge. And slowly take back the streets. Lao Tze would be proud.