The Path
Have you ever felt stuck, uncertain, or like you're moving backward instead of forward? Perhaps the wisdom you seek is not found in pushing forward, but in spiraling inward. In a world that celebrates speed and direction, the Tao reminds us that stillness, surrender, and return may be the truest form of progress.
In Chapter 40 of the Tao Te Ching, Lao Tzu says:
Returning is the motion of the Tao.
Yielding is the way of the Tao.
All things are born of being.
Being is born of non-being.
This passage, small in size but vast in depth, offers an esoteric key to understanding life, transformation, and the nature of creation itself.
Returning: The Hidden Rhythm of Growth
What does it mean to return? In our modern world, return is often seen as a setback—a reversion to something lesser. But the Tao teaches that return is the natural movement of life.
Everything in nature moves in cycles: the moon waxes and wanes, seasons rotate in harmony, tides come and go. Nothing is ever static, but it also doesn't move in a straight line. Life is spiralic, not linear.
We are meant to revisit old places, old thoughts, old identities—not to stay there, but to integrate, refine, and rise anew. In this light, returning is not a failure to evolve, but the way we evolve. Like returning to an old journal entry or revisiting a childhood place, these moments of return can clarify who we've become and what we've carried forward.
Yielding: The Subtle Strength
Yielding often gets confused with weakness. But in Taoist thought, yielding is a powerful act of alignment. It is the opposite of resistance. It is not submission to a force outside oneself, but a recognition of the greater flow and an allowance for it to move through us.
Bamboo yields to the wind but does not break. Water yields to obstacles but carves through mountains. Yielding is not giving up—it is giving in to the intelligence of the Tao. In yielding, we find the truest kind of strength: one that doesn't need to control, because it already belongs.
The Womb of Non-Being
Perhaps the most esoteric teaching in Chapter 40 is this:
Being is born of non-being.
This is echoed across mystical traditions:
- In Hermeticism: "All is from the All, and returns to the All."
- In quantum physics: fluctuations in the vacuum field birth particles.
- In creation myths: the cosmos is born from darkness, from void.
Non-being is not emptiness in the negative sense. It is the womb. The sacred void. The stillness from which all potential emerges. To dwell here is not to be lost—it is to wait, to listen, to trust.
Creation begins in silence. Ideas are conceived in open space. And often, the most profound growth happens in the invisible pause between two visible changes.
When the Path Feels Like Nothing
There are times when the path forward looks like... nothing. No direction. No clarity. No excitement. In these moments, the ego panics. We feel adrift. But the Tao reminds us that this too is part of the motion. The void is not the absence of life; it is its preparation.
Instead of forcing movement, what if we simply yielded? What if we honored the return? What if we rested in the non-being, trusting that something new is forming—not from effort, but from surrender?
Reflections
The sacred motion of return invites us to reconsider the pace and direction of our lives. If you're in a season of waiting, dissolving, or uncertainty, you may not be lost. You may be exactly where you're meant to be:
In the womb of becoming.
In the spiral of return.
In the gentle, unseen motion of the Tao.
To return is to remember.
To yield is to realign.
To dwell in non-being is to prepare for becoming.
So the next time your path feels like stillness, or your heart whispers to let go, pause and ask yourself:
What quiet wisdom is this moment of return offering me?
You are not falling behind.
You are returning home.
And home is not a place.
It is a state of being.