No one knows just why the 81 poems of the Tao Te Ching have been so arranged. The poems of the Tao Te Ching do seem to have a trajectory, but the arc of that trajectory is not reflected in the traditional order of the poems.
Unfortunately, to separate oneself from a tradition (such as the order of the poems) is to become a threat to it, at least in the eyes of the people who cling to the tradition. But the arc of the Tao Te Ching, as I see it, which moves into the epiphanies of exile and then to a prodigal return, is no danger.
In exile, in separation from the materialistic complications of civilization, the devotee begins to flower.
– but this brings along a new set of problems. The society from which the exile was ostracized, stumbling along with its inevitable and continual crises, invites the enlightened sage back into the fold in hopes that he or she can rescue them from their problems.
That the Tao Te Ching really does have a trajectory is reflected here, because the sage has now become a leader, or a King, and a large number of the poems discuss this role. The Great King, in finding the Tao, sees beyond the distortions of evolution, and only a sage who has found the Way can help the human race.
In short, then, the arc of the Tao Te Ching’s poems, moves from separation, to enlightenment, and then to return. Separation, enlightenment, and return, of course, outline the basic framework and the transformative power of ritual – and in this case ritual done consciously.
This is a synchronous coincidence of the finest sort, a gift from ecosystems. There was no intention here to jam the square peg of conscious ritualing into the round hole of the Tao te Ching.
Conscious ritualing is the “practice” of the Tao.