Examine your attachments with the idea that you gain by losing and lose by gaining.
Your attachments to objects, status, your culture, and even other people prevent you from being free in the Great Way of the Tao. The more stuff that accumulates, the more you have to watch it, insure it, worry about it, protect it, polish it, distribute it, and identify with it. In other words, you lose harmony while seeking to gain. Practice giving your possessions away and loosening your need for who and what you have. Imagine strings attached to everyone and everything that you feel you own; then symbolically cut those strings and be an observer rather than an owner. This is how you melt into harmony with the Tao.
The poet Hafiz advises:
Start seeing everything as God
But keep it a secret.
Do the Tao Now
Think of one person who may have wronged you at some time in your life: someone who abandoned or mistreated you, someone who stole from or cheated you, someone who abused you or spread ugly rumors about you. Spend one day putting all thoughts of revenge aside, and instead feel forgiveness and love for that individual. Notice the difference in your body when you don’t have violent thoughts . . . this is the essential teaching of the Tao.
43rd Verse
The softest of all things
overrides the hardest of all things.
That without substance enters where there is no space.
Hence I know the value of nonaction.
Teaching without words,
performing without actions—
few in the world can grasp it—
that is the master’s way.
Rare indeed are those
who obtain the bounty of this world.
Living Softly
The Tao Te Ching is full of parallels to nature, and in fact the pure essence of the teachings seems to be to help us become Tao-inspired sages through oneness with the environment. The opening lines of this 43rd verse remind me of the way of water, of its softness and ability to enter everywhere, even where there’s seemingly no space to do so. Water is used symbolically in many references to Taoism, such as in the title of the outstanding contemporary work by Alan Watts, Tao: The Watercourse Way. To live softly is to live the watercourse way.
In this verse, Lao-tzu invites you to change the way you view hardness. To you, the concept is probably equated with strength. You may work out because the firmer your muscles, the tougher you think you are. Do you consider diamonds more valuable than a soft mineral, like volcanic ash, which crumbles in your hand? Perhaps you subscribe to the idea that doing a difficult task makes you a better person. Now imagine emulating water, this basic element that is the embodiment of nature (after all, it does comprise 75 percent of both the world’s surface and our physical makeup). Think about the way water courses, flowing to the lowest place, and how in order to experience it, you can’t just grab a handful. You must instead relax, lightly placing your fingers inside of it.
Reflect upon how the gentle water compares to the solid stone and marble it’s capable of carving through. The soft water overrides hardness—deep valleys surrounded by mountains of granite have been carved away over the centuries by the patient, quiet, moving liquid. Imagine being able to enter where no space appears to be available, and to move slowly, speaking seldom and allowing yourself to be harmoniously intact as you seek a lower, less noisy and noticeable place . . . a place where all others desire to come to you. This is the watercourse way.
There’s value in the nonaction of being able to flow like water, naturally and effortlessly. I can’t help but think of this when I enter the ocean to swim for an hour or so. I want to go with the current rather than swim against it, so my first choice involves seeing which way the water is coursing. As I move through the sea, emulating its naturalness, I trust my instinct and swim without trying to direct my arms and legs in their strokes. I think of it as doing, but not interfering—that is, I’m allowing my body to propel itself through the water without my mind telling it how to move. As I’ve changed my thoughts about “hard” and “soft,” I don’t have to do anything but be in the water. I’ve chosen to make my daily swim a soft, silent experience that requires very little action on my part. And my swimming world has changed, becoming easy, joyful, and almost effortless. I’ve learned “the value of nonaction,” as Lao-tzu expresses it in this verse. It’s performing without action!
Apply this way of seeing everything in your world: Tasks will be simplified, your performance level will increase, and the pressure to be better than others by using superior hardened strength will cease to be a factor. You’ll naturally incorporate the wisdom of peaceful harmony that’s found in the martial arts by letting the efforts of others become a source of your own power. Your softness will override the hardness of others.
This principle is clearly seen when you look at great champions as they perform their chosen activities. The greatest golfers are effortless in their swing. The most successful ballplayers run, jump, throw, catch, and shoot with a softness that seems to stupefy most observers—they don’t use force, nor can they find words to describe how they do it. The most talented artists dance softly,
