The Flowing Path

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

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

“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

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

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