The Tao on the Go: The Original Go with the Flow

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 exactly the right moment, hold my hands exactly where they’re supposed to be. The more I try to control the movement, the less natural it feels.

As I often do, I've started to look for ways those moments are teaching me something beyond the form.

There is a Taoist concept--the original go with the flow-- called wu wei (無為), often translated as “effortless action” or “non-doing.”

But neither translation feels quite right on its own.

Wu wei isn’t really about doing nothing. It’s not passivity, and it doesn’t mean we stop putting effort into the things that matter.

I think of it more as learning not to force what doesn’t need to be forced.

Tai chi gives us a wonderful place to explore that.

There is structure in the form. There has to be. We need stability, balance, intention. But structure and rigidity are not the same thing. The movement still needs room to breathe.

When things are going well, tai chi can feel a little like water moving downstream. There is a direction, but no hurry. One movement finds the next without having to fight its way there.

The mind sets the intention.

The breath sets the pace.

The body follows.

But streams don’t always get an open path. Eventually, a tree falls. A rock gets in the way. Something changes the course.

And I keep coming back to the image of what the water does next.

It doesn’t stop or argue with the rock.

It doesn’t seem particularly concerned that this wasn’t part of the plan.

It simply responds to what is there.

Around.

Under.

Over.

Maybe the water slows down for a while. Maybe its course changes slightly. But it continues.

There is something about that image that feels increasingly relevant to me—not just in tai chi, but in life.

Because I can be a planner. I like knowing where I’m going. I like having an idea of what comes next. I'm always a few steps ahead. And yet, some of the most meaningful experiences seem to happen when I loosen my grip on the way I thought things were supposed to unfold.

Maybe practice is teaching me to get a little more comfortable with that.

So, when I reach a difficult place in my form now, I’m trying to become more curious about it.

Where is the obstacle? Am I holding tension somewhere? Am I rushing? Am I trying to force my body into the next position instead of allowing the movement to develop?

Sometimes the answer really is to practice the technique more.

But sometimes the answer is simply to soften. To breathe. To stop fighting with the rock. And find another way through.

The interesting thing about tai chi, and what has deepened my connection the art, is that these lessons rarely stay inside the practice room.

Life has plenty of rocks.

Plans change. People disappoint us. Things take longer than expected. Doors close. Something we were certain would happen…doesn’t.

Our instinct is often to resist. To fight against this unfair current.

This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

I know that feeling well. And I know you do, too.

But wu wei asks a different question:

Given what is here now, how do I move? With grace. Like water.

The question isn't how do I make everything go back to the way I wanted it. Not how do I remove every obstacle from my path.

Just…

Where can I go from here?

There is a subtle difference between persistence and resistance.

Persistence keeps moving.

Resistance keeps fighting.

Wisdom is learning to recognize which one we’re doing.

I certainly haven’t mastered that in my form or in life.

But I’m noticing it. And awareness is where the practice--where wisdom--begins.

Set the intention. Let the breath set the pace. Soften where you can.

And when the path changes—keep flowing.

This Week's Tao on the Go:

Sometime this week, something will interrupt your plans.

Probably something small but intensely annoying.

Traffic. A long line. Someone running late. A website or other tech that refuses to cooperate.

Or maybe it will happen during your tai chi practice, when you reach that one movement that still doesn’t feel quite right.

When it happens, notice your first reaction.

Then pause.

Take a breath.

And ask:

How can I flow with this instead of fighting it?

Maybe you go around.

Maybe you slow down.

Maybe you change direction for a while.

Just remember, you don’t have to move the rock.

You just have to find your way past it. And at the end of the day, consider one more question:

What disturbed your peace more—the obstacle itself, or your resistance to it?

--Rhiannon