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

“In the Taoist sense, diligence is about returning again and again to something with steady reverence.” —365 Days of Dao by Dae Lee Merriam-Webster defines diligence as the “earnest and persistent application of effort.” In other words, work harder, practice longer, push through difficulties. But in a Taoist context, diligence is much softer. It isn’t forceful persistence. It’s the willingness to return. Every time we practice a form, we’re not just repeating movements. We’re

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

For more than 30 years, I’ve been drawn to practices that quiet the mind, cultivate awareness, and nourish the soul. Whether through martial arts, yoga, time in nature, or the study of ancient philosophies, I’ve always felt the call to look inward. And the older I get, the more I find myself seeking not just knowledge, but a way of living in greater harmony with myself and the world around me. Tai Chi has become that path—part movement, part meditation, part mystery. This blo