Letting the Water Clear

Hello everyone,

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the quiet nature of resilience. In a world that so often celebrates bold, decisive action, we rarely talk about the profound strength required to simply be still.

There’s a beautiful line from the Dao De Jing that I keep returning to: "Do you have the patience to wait till your mud settles and the water is clear?"

That question feels so relevant right now. So often, our minds feel like that stirred-up water—a whirlwind of deadlines, expectations, and the pressure to have all the answers, now. We try to find clarity by stirring faster, thinking harder, pushing through. But usually, things just get muddier.

What I’m learning, both in my own life and in my work, is that the “patience” Lao Tzu speaks of isn’t a frustrating, passive wait. It's an active, gentle allowing. It’s the trust that if we can just create a moment of stillness, our own inner wisdom will surface.

For me, the simplest way to find that stillness is to return to the senses. To intentionally notice the feeling of my feet on the ground, or the rhythm of my own quiet breath. It’s not about stopping our thoughts, but about giving them a gentle anchor in the present moment.

And when we do that, something remarkable happens. The mud of our overactive minds begins to settle. No force, just a quiet return to what's real.

True clarity emerges from that space. Decisions feel less like a struggle and more like a natural knowing. We lead ourselves, and others, not from a place of pressure, but from a place of calm presence.

This is a practice, of course. It’s the gentle commitment to "get up again" and find our center, day after day. It's remembering that even our quietest moments of awareness are acts of profound self-leadership.

Thank you for being on this journey of reflection with me.

With warmth,

Yadan