TAOISM | How to Get Drunk on Life

The habit of drinking is deeply ingrained in Western culture. Being drunk is often seen as a blissful state in which our sorrows are washed away, and exchanged for courage and an extraordinary ability to be merry and happy. Yes, alcohol loosens the inhibitions, dissolves our fears, and makes us forget about our problems - at least for a while. But it also dampens the senses, reduces our mental capabilities, impairs our motor skills, and basically helps us to make fools of ourselves.

Moreover, drunkenness often leads to violence, and the trap of alcoholism has been destroying millions of lives. Thus, we might choose the risky joy of drinking, but the overall debilitating effects of doing so prevent us from truly immersing ourselves in the precious gift that the universe has given to us: Life. So, instead of escaping the experience of life, in all its rawness, with all its emotional highs and lows, its joys and hardships, can’t we just enjoy life as it comes, soberly, as much as we enjoy the state of drunkenness? Or simply put: how can we get drunk on life?

Now, years ago I heard a Taoist tale about Lao Tzu, meeting up with Confucius and Buddha, in a teahouse. When they were sitting together at a table, the waiter offered them a special drink called ‘the juice of life’. Immediately, Buddha rejected this, saying that birth, death, and life are all suffering and that a drink called ‘the juice of life’ is definitely not worth taking. As a matter of fact: his enlightenment meant freedom from the wheel of suffering. So why should he masochistically administer the pain that he wanted to escape?

Confucius, then, said that he couldn’t judge the drink before he tasted it. He took a sip but didn’t like the taste at all. “Buddha, you’re right!” he said. “It’s foul, it’s bitter, it’s miserable, it’s not worth drinking.” Then, Lao Tzu took the bottle and drank it in one go. After that, he got up and started to dance, and dance, dance, while screaming like a madman. After a while, he stopped and returned to his seat. Buddha and Confucius had become curious and asked: “So, how was it?” Lao Tzu answered: “I’m not going to say a word, because there’s nothing to be said.”

He explained that Buddha was too quick to judge, and Confucius based his judgment on a small sip. In theory, they might be right: that life isn’t worth the suffering. And based on their doctrines, it might be better to avoid certain elements of life in order to avoid suffering. But in the story, they refuse to experience life. And a million words are not enough to describe what it really is to be alive. Hence: “There’s nothing to be said.” And to really judge about life, one has to fully experience it.

Now, not to discredit Buddha or Confucius and their traditions, which (needless to say) contain profound wisdom, the story offers two important messages. The first one is ‘not to take religions or ideologies too seriously so that they block us from experiencing life’. When the rules we impose on ourselves are too rigid and inflexible, it’s difficult to move along with existence which is always in flux. As Lao Tzu wrote in the Tao Te Ching, and I quote: “Those who are stiff and rigid are the disciples of death. Those who are soft and yielding are the disciples of life.” End quote.

The second one is that to experience life ‘we should drink it at once and just... dance’. We’re likely inclined to dance after drinking a lot of alcoholic beverages. Without a doubt, drunkenness by substances is an experience that many people regard as a joie de vivre. But, paradoxically, the basis for this joy lies in closing ourselves off from life. Perhaps as much, or even more, as those rigid individuals that are clenched to their spiritual pursuit. What’s to experience when our senses are numb? Enjoying life more, by experiencing it less, is nothing more than an escape. It means that we cannot handle our fears or our emotions in general.

When we’re sad, we drink. When we’re happy, we drink. When we’re anxious, we drink. So,...