I knew, even then, that the secret was to let go—to release tension, to stop clinging to the edge. But my painful experience told me otherwise. “If you let go, it won’t hurt!” people said. I didn’t believe them. And so, I never learned to dive. I never trusted the letting go.
It’s a common illusion of the ego—to think that by clinging, grasping, and holding on tightly, we can control life. But this is foolish in two ways. First, it’s a lie we tell ourselves. Second, it often leads to more pain. The ancient sages knew better:
“For those who want to save their life will lose it…”
— Jesus
“Yielding is the way of the Dao.”
— Laozi
And yet, how counterintuitive it seems to surrender, to let things unfold, to do nothing—and in doing nothing, to accomplish everything.
I’m continuing to explore wu wei, the Daoist practice of “effortless action,” of doing not doing. Practically, it means not reacting hastily, not clinging to control, learning the subtle art of non-attachment. It is the open hand, not the clenched fist. Physically, it means lowering the center of gravity—not holding tension in the chest and shoulders but settling into a deeper, more grounded space. It is in the out-breath.
Like many, I feel unmoored. Political and social changes—in the U.S., Europe, and beyond—have left me feeling a little lost, disoriented, even helpless. The world is shifting in ways I neither expected nor wanted. What was once bad is now good. What was noble is now dismissed. What was honorable is now ridiculed. The impulse is to grasp, to resist, to try to force stability.
But what if, instead, we practiced letting go?
Letting go doesn’t mean disengagement. It doesn’t mean apathy or resignation. It means loosening our grip on the illusion of control. It means choosing how we respond rather than reacting out of fear or frustration. It means finding a way to move with change rather than being battered by it.
Try this:
Next time you feel overwhelmed by events beyond your control, pause. Take a deep breath, but focus on the exhale. Let it be long. As you breathe out, feel your center settle lower. Take a few more breaths, letting tension dissolve. The world will look different.
Or consider social media, often a blunt instrument of misunderstanding. A comment written in haste receives a hasty response. Each writer clings to words, trying to salvage meaning, escalating the tension. Trying to save face, we lose connection.
Another exercise:
The next time you receive an upsetting email, don’t respond—at least, not immediately. Let it go. Let your reaction go. Let the content go. In a day or two, read it again. You’ll see it differently.
Or this:
The next time you find yourself in a disagreement—whether about politics, work, or something personal—yield. Let go. Don’t be attached to your solution. Watch what happens when you stop resisting. See how much more gets done, how much lighter you feel, how relationships improve. Yield to the Dao.
The world will continue to shift. It always has. But we don’t have to live in a state of constant resistance. Letting go isn’t giving up—it’s making space for something new.
Looking out the window at the snow still covering the ground, it’s hard to imagine standing by a pool in the warm sun. But I know it’s coming. And when it does, perhaps—just perhaps—I will take my own advice, let go, and dive in.
+Ab. Andy