It’s a curious thing, this human experience. We are coached to be strong, to strive, to push, to win. We are taught that strength is a kind of rigidity, an unyielding force against the pressures of the world. But what if true strength isn’t about force at all? What if it’s about fluidity, adaptability, and the quiet power of surrender?
The ancient wisdom of the Tao Te Ching, in its gentle and profound way, offers a different perspective. In Chapter 8, Lao Tzu whispers a truth that can unravel a lifetime of conditioning:
The supreme good is like water, which nourishes all things without trying to. It is content with the low places that people disdain. Thus it is like the Tao.
Water. It is the most powerful and yielding substance on Earth. It carves canyons out of stone, not through brute force, but through persistence and flow. It nourishes all of life, from the smallest seed to the mightiest forest, without ever asking for anything in return. It flows to the lowest places, the places we are taught to avoid—the places of humility, of not-knowing, of being rather than doing.
This, the Tao tells us, is the nature of true strength. It is the path of wu wei, of effortless action. It is the grace of moving with the current of life, rather than fighting against it.
The Tyranny of "Trying"
So many of us are caught in the exhausting cycle of trying. Trying to be better, trying to heal, trying to fix our relationships, trying to force life into the shape we believe it should take. We clench our jaws, tighten our shoulders, and brace ourselves for the next battle. This constant state of tension, this internal bracing, is the opposite of the water-like state the Tao describes.
I remember a client I worked with years ago, a brilliant and successful woman who felt like she was drowning. "I'm doing everything right," she told me, her voice tight with frustration. "I meditate, I journal, I eat clean, I say my affirmations... but I still feel so anxious and empty."
Her body told the story. Her shoulders were hunched up to her ears, her breath was shallow, and her whole system was humming with the high-frequency buzz of a nervous system on high alert. She was trying so hard to be well that she was making herself sick.
Our work together was not about adding more techniques or strategies. It was about subtraction. It was about gently, tenderly, helping her to un-try. We worked with the body, with the breath. We invited her to notice the tension, not as an enemy to be vanquished, but as a messenger. We explored what it would feel like to let go, just for a moment. To soften. To allow herself to be in the "low place" of not having it all figured out.
It was a slow process, like the melting of a glacier. But little by little, she began to find the flow. She discovered that beneath the armor of trying was a deep well of wisdom and resilience she never knew she had. She learned to trust the current.
The Neuroscience of Flow
This ancient wisdom finds a beautiful echo in modern neuroscience. When we are in a state of stress and striving, our sympathetic nervous system—the "fight or flight" response—is in overdrive. Our bodies are flooded with cortisol and adrenaline, preparing us for a perceived threat. While essential for survival, living in this state is profoundly depleting. It shuts down our creativity, our capacity for connection, and our ability to heal.
The state of being like water, on the other hand, corresponds to the activation of the parasympathetic nervous system—the "rest and digest" response. This is the state of flow, of deep presence, of safety. When our nervous system is in this state, our bodies can repair, our minds can quiet, and our hearts can open.
The practice is to learn how to consciously shift from the sympathetic to the parasympathetic. This is not another thing to try to do, but a gentle allowing. It can be as simple as feeling your feet on the earth. Taking a slow, deep breath and making the exhale longer than the inhale. Placing a hand on your heart and feeling its steady beat.
These small, body-based practices are anchors. They are invitations to the nervous system to come back to its natural state of rest and flow. They are reminders that we don’t have to carry the weight of the world in our shoulders. We can let the river carry us.
The Wisdom of the Low Places
We live in a culture that worships the peak. The promotion, the award, the public recognition, the perfect family photo. We are taught to scramble for the high places and to fear the low ones. The valleys of grief, of uncertainty, of failure, of rest—these are seen as places to be avoided at all costs.
But water knows the secret. The low places are where the nourishment is. The low places are where the soil is fertile, where the seeds of new life can germinate. It is in the quiet valleys of our lives that we can truly integrate our experiences, heal our wounds, and gather the strength to continue our journey.
To be like water is to have the courage to be with what is, without needing to change it or fix it. It is to trust that even in the darkest, most difficult moments, there is a current of grace that is holding you. It is to know that your vulnerability is not a weakness, but a doorway to the deepest kind of strength.
Beloved one, if you are feeling tired of striving, if you are weary of the fight, I invite you to consider the way of water. What would it feel like to soften, just a little? To let go of the shore and trust the flow? To allow yourself to rest in the low places and be nourished?
This is not about giving up. It is about giving in. It is about surrendering to a power that is infinitely greater than our own small, striving self. It is the supreme good. It is the way of the Tao.
<div style="background: linear-gradient(135deg, #2D7D7D 0%, #1E234C 100%); border-radius: 12px; padding: 2rem; margin: 2rem 0; text-align: center;"> <p style="color: #C9A84C; font-size: 0.85rem; letter-spacing: 0.1em; text-transform: uppercase; margin-bottom: 0.5rem;">Discover what your body is telling you</p> <h3 style="color: white; font-family: 'Lora', serif; font-size: 1.5rem; margin-bottom: 1rem;">Explore the Elevated Body Cards</h3> <p style="color: rgba(255,255,255,0.85); font-family: 'Lora', serif; margin-bottom: 1.5rem;">A holographic body-mind-spirit healing tool that helps you decode the messages your body has been holding — and transform them into doorways of healing and self-discovery.</p> <a href="/apps/body-cards" style="display: inline-block; padding: 12px 32px; border-radius: 50px; background: #C9A84C; color: white; font-weight: 600; text-decoration: none; font-size: 0.9rem; letter-spacing: 0.05em;">EXPLORE THE BODY CARDS</a> </div>Continue Your Tao Journey
- Ancient Wisdom of the Tao te Ching: An Origin Story
- The Primary Teachings of the Tao Te Ching
- How Are Taoism and Confucianism Similar and Distinct?
- Simplicity, Patience, and Compassion: Sitting With All of Who We Are
- The Soft and Supple: Why Flexibility Is the True Strength
With infinite love and support on your journey,
Susan
