The Flowing Path

It doesn’t matter whether you’re teaching the class or walking in for the very first time—whether you’ve been practicing for three weeks or thirty years. In my class, we all begin our practice in exactly the same place: standing quietly, eyes closed, settling into our own breath. Then I say, “Together, let’s inhale… exhale.” There is something profoundly humbling about knowing that experience doesn’t exempt us from the beginning. No amount of skill allows us to bypass the fir

Some things become clearer not because we do more, but because we stop doing what prevents us from seeing. Have you ever tried to see your reflection in rippling water? A breeze passes over the surface. A fish jumps and breaks the stillness. A pebble lands with a splash. Suddenly the image disappears—not because your reflection is gone, but because the water is no longer still enough to reveal it. If you wait, the ripples fade. The surface settles. And before long, you’re eye

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

If you’ve been attending my Tai Chi classes for a while, you’re probably familiar with our opening routine. We begin with some breath work and gentle movements to awaken the body, and then a few minutes of standing meditation known as Zhan Zhuang—often translated as standing like a tree. If you’ve practiced it, you already know that this involves standing with arms extended for several minutes, which frequently evokes a reaction from newer practitioners: “Why do we have to ho

I wasn’t looking for a lesson. I wasn’t reading an ancient text or practicing a form. I was simply drifting quietly across a peaceful lake on my paddle board at sunset. A short distance away, I noticed a crane. It had one foot in the lake and one planted on the sandy shore, its slender body nearly blending into the tall grasses surrounding it. It had caught a snake. For several minutes I watched, hardly believing what I was seeing. The crane would strike. The snake would t