The Flowing Path

When we think of Wuji in Tai Chi, we often think of the beginning. An upright stance. A relaxed body. Our arms resting naturally at our sides. Nothing appears to be happening. If you’re not familiar with Tai Chi, this is the posture we assume just prior to beginning our form. Wuji (無極) is often described as “the state before differentiation,” meaning it is without polarity, without a particular direction or expression. Nothing has taken shape, and yet everything is possible.

Lately, I’ve been getting the same message from my tai chi practice: Stop trying so hard. Easier said than done! There are movements in my form that feel natural now. I don’t have to think much about them anymore. My body seems to know where it’s going, and one movement simply becomes the next. And then there are the others... The places where I still think too much. Where I anticipate what’s coming. Where I try to put my foot in exactly the right place, turn my waist at exac

From a distance, Queen Anne’s lace looks like a single white flower. Simple, maybe even ordinary. Easy to pass by. But come a little closer. What appears to be one flower is actually hundreds—sometimes nearly a thousand—tiny blossoms woven together. And resting at the center is something many people never notice at all—a single deep purple flower. Since the flower is rather unobtrusive from afar, most people walk right past it. Not because it’s hidden. Because they never loo

This week’s Tao on the Go invitation…stop and smell the roses! We’re all familiar with the expression, “Stop and smell the roses." It’s one of those sayings that has become so familiar we rarely take time to consider what it actually means. Recently, I found myself thinking about those words in a different way, and I want to break it down for you. The more I reflected on it, the more I realized the expression assumes two things. First, the phrase doesn’t tell us to go outside