Lao Tzu’s Tao — Ever Relevant and Always Alive
Lao Tzu’s approach is unapologetically direct in challenging established beliefs. His teachings encourage us to rethink success — not as something to chase, but as something that naturally arises when we align with the flow of life. Taoist wisdom helps us rediscover the power of non-action in a competitive world and find inner harmony in a restless age. Ultimately, it guides us to see wisdom in the quiet flow of a mountain stream and beauty in the silence between two thoughts, where everything comes together.
Lao Tzu, meaning “Old Sage” or “Old Master” in Chinese, is the name attributed to a philosopher and thinker believed to have lived between 614 and 517 BCE. He is widely regarded as the author of the Tao Te Ching (often referred to simply as the Tao), a foundational text of Taoist philosophy.
It is commonly debated among scholars whether Lao-Tzu was a real person or a fictional figure created to illustrate the idea of the sage. Like Homer in ancient Greece, he might be more of a legend than a historical figure. At the same time, Chinese tradition insists that he was, in fact, a real historical figure.
While much about his life remains uncertain, the wisdom attributed to him continues to influence spiritual and philosophical thought worldwide.
Lao Tzu, sometimes called Laozi or Lao Tze, is said to have served as a record keeper in the Zhou Dynasty’s court in the 6th century BC and he’s believed to have been a contemporary of Confucius.
According to legend, Lao Tzu became disappointed with the Zhou court as corruption grew, so he left, riding a water buffalo to the western frontier of China. There, an official, acknowledging his wisdom, asked him to record his teachings. Lao Tzu then wrote what would eventually become the Tao Te Ching. Afterward, he vanished from historical records, possibly retreating into solitude. The Tao Te Ching likely evolved, shaped by multiple authors who added layers of complexity.
Taoism is closely connected to two other major Eastern philosophies: Confucianism and Buddhism. Confucius is often said to have studied under Lao Tzu, and Confucian traditions continue to honor him, drawing inspiration from his wisdom.
Taoism and Confucianism share certain values, but they approach accomplishment in different ways. While Confucianism focuses on cultivating social order, ethics, and morality, to achieve fulfillment through harmonious relationships and virtuous behavior, Taoism emphasizes living in harmony with the natural flow of the universe, embracing spontaneity and the connection of all things.
Buddhism, which originated in India, also influenced Taoism, particularly through its meditation practices and concepts of transience and suffering. A popular story illustrates the perspectives of these three thinkers: each was asked to taste vinegar. Confucius found it sour, reflecting his view of a chaotic world in need of order. Buddha found it bitter, mirroring his belief in the world’s inherent suffering. Lao Tzu, however, tasted sweetness, seeing life’s discord as part of a greater harmonious flow he called the Tao.
Don’t Attach Fixed Meanings to Events
An ancient Chinese story offers a simple yet powerful insight into Taoism as a mindset.
Once upon a time, there was a farmer who had a horse. One day, the horse ran away. His neighbors, upon hearing the news, came to him and said, “Oh, that’s too bad. What bad luck you’ve had!”
The farmer replied, “Maybe.”
A few days later, the horse returned, bringing some wild horses. Now, the neighbors came to the farmer and said, “How wonderful! You’re so lucky!”
The farmer said, “Maybe.”
Later, the farmer’s son tried to ride one of the wild horses but was thrown off and broke his leg. The neighbors, seeing his injury, said, “How unfortunate! What bad luck!”
The farmer answered, “Maybe.”
Soon after, the emperor’s army came through the village, recruiting young men to fight in a war. The farmer’s son, with his broken leg, was spared from going. The neighbors came again to the farmer and said, “How fortunate your son is to be spared!”
The farmer replied, “Maybe.”
The story embodies the Taoist belief in life’s fluidity, illustrating how what seems good or bad in one moment can unexpectedly change. It teaches us not to jump to conclusions or attach fixed meanings to events, as the bigger picture is always unfolding.
The Wise Ignorance
Tao translates to “way” or “path” — the natural course of the universe, evolving effortlessly on its own. Lao Tzu’s first lesson is to quiet the mind. “If you can empty your mind of all thoughts your heart will embrace the tranquility of peace.” (Tao Te Ching, 16).
When we step back from the constant rush, and the noise in our heads, we create space for life to unfold as it is. Overthinking and constantly relying on external mental images pull us further from the essence of who we are. Before we know it, we’ve forgotten ourselves.
To understand the core of Tao, we must first cultivate the mindset through which it can be truly understood. Our starting point is the concept of unlearning — setting aside everything we think we know. We must suspend all judgment, returning to a state of pure innocence, before we learned to label and categorize things.
The Tao defies description. It is both leaving and arriving, eternally flowing, and perpetually transforming. Lao Tzu invites us to look within, where the Tao has always been, and align with it. ”Since the beginning of time, the Tao has always existed. It is beyond existing and not existing. How do I know where creation comes from? I look inside myself and see it.” (Tao Te Ching, 21).
Once we enter the domain of concepts, we find ourselves distanced from the natural world, placing more value on symbols than on the reality they represent. To reconnect with truth, we must move beyond these abstractions. Concepts, by their nature, are simply tools used to label and categorize our experiences. However, when we cling to these mental constructs, we risk losing touch with the raw, unfiltered experience of the world. Instead of seeing things as they are, we interpret them through a lens of preconceptions and judgments.
To truly understand the Tao, we must enter a state of “wise ignorance.” This state is not about ignorance in the traditional sense of lacking knowledge, but rather about removing the layers of thought and expectation that blur our perception.
In this state, we embrace the mystery of the universe without the need to define or restrict it. In other words, we let the world, along with all its things, reveal itself to us, and we simply witness this unfolding.
It is in that stillness, free from the mental noise and labels, that we begin to see things as they are, and that’s when everything starts to fall into place.
Wu Wei: Achieving More by Doing Less
Wu Wei is a fundamental concept in Taoism. Wu means “not,” and Wei refers to “action,” “struggling for,” or “doing.” But the deeper meaning of Wei is “forcing.” Thus, Wu Wei can be translated as “not forcing,” or more accurately, as the art of achieving without effort or resistance. It reflects the natural way of the universe, where things unfold without force, and everything is accomplished easily, through alignment with the course of life
Once we stop forcing things, we realize that success is not something we chase — it’s something we allow to happen. It’s about being receptive, like an empty vessel, ready to receive. A vessel isn’t rigid or demanding; it simply waits, adaptable and wide-open, allowing life to fill it with exactly what it needs. By remaining empty, we create the space for possibility, growth, and the right opportunities to flow in, without resistance.
If the vessel makes space for what’s coming, the tree — an iconic Taoist symbol — reminds us of the power of bending without breaking. It doesn’t fight the wind; it lets it shape its growth. Strength in Taoism isn’t about resisting life’s challenges — it’s about adapting to them. Flexibility isn’t a weakness; it is how we weather the storms and still stand tall.
Similarly, water flows effortlessly around obstacles, carving paths through rock not by force but by persistence and natural rhythm. This is the essence of Wu Wei — to move with the current of life, rather than trying to impose our will upon it.
Judo, in many ways, is inspired by the Taoist principle of Wu Wei. Just as in Taoism, where the natural flow is followed without resistance, Judo teaches the art of using an opponent’s force to your advantage, rather than confronting it head-on. When an opponent tries to push, pull, or throw you, you don’t resist with strength. Instead, you blend with their energy, redirect it, and leverage it to execute a throw or pin.
In this way, Wu Wei teaches us ‘non-action’ — to live in harmony with the natural world, to release our need to control every outcome, and to trust that things will fall into place when we allow them to unfold naturally.
Western cultures often value struggle, hard work, and the belief that success comes from constant effort. But Taoism reminds us that the joy we find in these pursuits is temporary. The constant quest for success leaves us enslaved to our desires, always chasing the next achievement to fill the void.
Lao Tzu teaches us that true contentment isn’t found in constant striving, but in sync with the rhythm of life. “The Tao never acts with force, yet there is nothing that it can not do.” (Tao Te Ching, 37).
Tao teaches us to be like the farmer who plants the seeds, nurtures them, and then waits for them to grow, leaving nature to do the rest. What would happen if this farmer unearthed the seeds to see how much they have grown? Would the harvest ever come to life? It’s an odd thought, isn’t it? But aren’t we often doing the same thing? After making a request — whether it’s a prayer, a meditation, or a manifestation — we fail to wait patiently for the result to develop. Instead, we overcontrol every little detail, even instructing the universe on how to grant our wish, and constantly checking its progress. The good farmer only acts when it’s time to harvest.
We are reminded that everything in nature follows its cycle, and by aligning with it, we find harmony and success. “Humanity follows the earth. Earth follows Heaven. Heaven follows the Tao. The Tao follows only itself.” (Tao Te Ching, Chapter 25).
Wu-wei is about more than just patience or passive acceptance. It requires courage — the courage to let go of limited beliefs and to release control. It’s about trusting that things will develop as they’re meant to, rather than trying to force them into being. Lao Tzu teaches us that true mastery comes from knowing when to act — and when to simply let things unfold.
In the same spirit, the ideal ruler, according to Taoist philosophy, does not impose their will upon the people. Instead, they align the workings of the state with the Tao, guiding through subtlety rather than force. The best leaders rule through non-interference, allowing things to develop naturally and enabling their people to flourish without feeling manipulated. “The best leaders are those the people hardly know exist.” (Tao Te Ching, Chapter 17).
Wu-wei is not a passive or lazy approach to life. It is a form of self-cultivation — a continuous journey of learning to live in harmony with the world. It requires continuous awareness and the ability to adapt to ever-changing circumstances. It is a skill that, when mastered, shapes both personal growth and the well-being of those around us.
The Way of Water
Water is perhaps the most common example in Taoist teachings, embodying the Tao’s principles of adaptability, humility, and living in harmony with the flow of life.
Water always seeks the lowest point, a natural tendency that humans often resist, as we are constantly striving for dominance. Yet Lao Tzu presents a different perspective: the highest position is often the most precarious. Instead, true power lies in humility, in adopting a grounded position that is strong and unshakable.
This principle is also evident in martial arts, where the key is not brute strength, but using an opponent’s force and positioning to your advantage. In judo, the more grounded and centered you are, the more powerful your movements become.
Living like water allows your life to flow, free from the weight of unnecessary struggle. The flow is both you and not you — the process itself, the unfolding of life as it happens. It’s not about forcing outcomes but being present with what is. This mindset requires a higher order of intelligence — just as it is wiser to sail a boat with the wind rather than row against it, it is more intelligent to flow with life than to resist it. The wisdom of the watercourse lies in its effortless navigation through obstacles, always adapting, always moving forward.
The most transformative lessons are often the ones we don’t see coming — those that shock us and pull us out of our comfort zone, challenging us to grow in unexpected ways. It’s easy to fall into the trap of confirmation bias — only seeking out opinions that agree with our own. But that’s the opposite of growth, whether we’re talking about spiritual practice or personal development.
Lao Tzu’s approach is unapologetically straightforward in challenging established beliefs. His teachings invite us to redefine our relationship with ourselves, others, and the world, embracing a life rooted in wholeness, balance, and harmony.
Lao Tzu’s teachings invite us to reconnect with the power of non-action in a world that is driven by competition, and to discover inner peace in an age of constant noise. Ultimately, he guides us to find wisdom in the gentle flow of a mountain stream and beauty in the quiet moments between thoughts — where everything falls into place.
(An excerpt from the book Be a Vessel, not a Chaser — Lao Tzu Lessons of Success, by Monica Laura Rapeanu & MONLart Publishing)
This article originally appeared on MONLart Publishing official website.
