Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist it.
-Lao Tzu
In some ways I can't believe it has taken this long for me to make this intellectual jump. Why could I not see it before? While I was so sick, though, something clicked. I have always understood the Tao as described as similar to water. Like water, it is uniform, endlessly cyclical, self-restorative, soft but powerful, and abundant, selflessly giving, quiet, etc... As humans we seem to tend to be so goal-oriented, even obsessive. The Tao seems to embody the opposite, a selfless, sustaining flow, like love.
What clicked in part was that my dear friend directed me to this podcast from NPR's Ted radio hour called 'Everything is Connected'. It was a beautiful story about how more connected nature is than we ever even can expect or understand. The story is about how in restoring the wolves to Yellowstone, a term called re-wilding, it restored the river's ability to undulate as it is supposed to, the birds came back and the hardwoods began to regrow. There was this whole chain of effects that happened as a result of restoring this predator to its natural habitat. The orator tells the story beautifully and it speaks to this natural unobstructed flow, the Tao, though he doesn't call it that. Once the flow becomes obstructed, the habitat quickly broke down. But once it is restored, things flow beautifully and naturally. One of the things I love about Taoism is that it acknowledges (like Einstein and Newton) that nature is, indeed, the best teacher. In many ways, it holds a metaphor for everything we need to know. And for me, water is the greatest teacher of all.
That is what I have missed most about these last two and a half weeks of illness- running outside. All of my favorite routes go along a stream, river, creek or lake. 2 miles today was all I could do. Still pretty knocked down. But it was by a creek, so that made it good.
I remember doing this 8 hour race about ten years ago. It involved navigating through the woods with a team. About halfway through the race, I started weeping. I felt this overwhelming sense of vibrancy and rhythm and I said to my friends, you know we are so lucky to be able use our bodies like this. Not everyone can do this. It was something very obvious to say and know, but it was so true in that moment on top of that hill with a view, laughing and running full stride, that we all started crying. We all laugh about it now, but it was a sweet moment of being in full view of something beautiful and much larger than ourselves.
-Lao Tzu
In some ways I can't believe it has taken this long for me to make this intellectual jump. Why could I not see it before? While I was so sick, though, something clicked. I have always understood the Tao as described as similar to water. Like water, it is uniform, endlessly cyclical, self-restorative, soft but powerful, and abundant, selflessly giving, quiet, etc... As humans we seem to tend to be so goal-oriented, even obsessive. The Tao seems to embody the opposite, a selfless, sustaining flow, like love.
What clicked in part was that my dear friend directed me to this podcast from NPR's Ted radio hour called 'Everything is Connected'. It was a beautiful story about how more connected nature is than we ever even can expect or understand. The story is about how in restoring the wolves to Yellowstone, a term called re-wilding, it restored the river's ability to undulate as it is supposed to, the birds came back and the hardwoods began to regrow. There was this whole chain of effects that happened as a result of restoring this predator to its natural habitat. The orator tells the story beautifully and it speaks to this natural unobstructed flow, the Tao, though he doesn't call it that. Once the flow becomes obstructed, the habitat quickly broke down. But once it is restored, things flow beautifully and naturally. One of the things I love about Taoism is that it acknowledges (like Einstein and Newton) that nature is, indeed, the best teacher. In many ways, it holds a metaphor for everything we need to know. And for me, water is the greatest teacher of all.
That is what I have missed most about these last two and a half weeks of illness- running outside. All of my favorite routes go along a stream, river, creek or lake. 2 miles today was all I could do. Still pretty knocked down. But it was by a creek, so that made it good.
I remember doing this 8 hour race about ten years ago. It involved navigating through the woods with a team. About halfway through the race, I started weeping. I felt this overwhelming sense of vibrancy and rhythm and I said to my friends, you know we are so lucky to be able use our bodies like this. Not everyone can do this. It was something very obvious to say and know, but it was so true in that moment on top of that hill with a view, laughing and running full stride, that we all started crying. We all laugh about it now, but it was a sweet moment of being in full view of something beautiful and much larger than ourselves.
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