Take last weekend, for example. We were in Florida, and Hurricane Milton was bearing down. We flew back to New York just in time, but the airport was closed the next morning. So many people lost everything. My heart goes out to those folk. It’s in moments like these—the climate crisis on full display—that the fragility of life and the illusion of control become painfully clear. Whether it’s a contested election or a devastating hurricane, we are constantly reminded how little is actually within our grasp.
As a youngster, after I learned how to swim, I wanted to learn how to dive. I was never a “natural” in the water. I watched friends who stood by the side of the pool and, seemingly effortlessly and gracefully, dived in. I tried and tried but never really got it. My best attempts were “belly flops.” Belly flops are painful and dissuade you from trying again. I think I realized at the time that the trick was to let go, not to be so tense, not to cling to the side. But from painful experience, I could not trust to letting go. “If you let go, it won’t hurt!” I was told. I didn’t believe the advice. So, I never learned to dive. I never trusted the letting go.
It is part of the foolish ego to think that by clinging, and grasping, and holding on as tight as we can, we can actually control life. It’s foolish on two counts. First, it’s a silly lie we tell ourselves. Second, it often results in 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
But how counterintuitive it seems to just let go, to let things take their course, to do nothing, yet in doing nothing to accomplish everything!
In these times, it feels harder than ever to embrace such teachings. The weight of global events—the pandemic we so recently passed through, the presidential election, the climate crisis—pushes us toward grasping for control, yet each attempt only tightens the knot. The truth remains: the more we attempt to cling, the more we suffer.
This semester I’m teaching Asian Philosophy, a class I teach every couple of years. I have been pondering again the idea and practice of wu wei… “doing not doing.” Practically, it means not reacting hastily to life’s events and circumstances. It means letting go of control. It means learning the subtle art of “non-attachment.” It is the open hand and not the clenched fist. Physically, it is lowering the center of gravity from the chest and shoulders to just below the hips. (We tend to store tension in the upper torso. By lowering the center, we let go of tension.) It is in the out-breath.
Here’s an exercise I ask my students to try: Next time you feel the need to control, or that things are out of control, or that you begin to feel a tightening in the chest, consciously take a breath, but focus on your out-breath. Let it be long. As you focus on the out-breath, feel your center sinking lower. Take several more breaths and feel your center settle lower still. You will find relief. Your world will look different.
But letting go doesn’t mean inaction. We are called upon, more than ever, to respond to the world’s crises. We just need to do so from a place of clarity, where our actions arise out of a deep understanding rather than fear. Letting go is not passivity; it is the recognition that our actions are more effective when not driven by the illusion of control.
Or take social media. What a blunt and cruel instrument it can be! People write things that they think express what they want to say, but the reader often takes it differently, often contrarily. The Facebook or X comment written in haste receives a rejoinder written equally in haste. Misunderstandings occur. Each writer grasps at words to save their meaning and compounds the problem. Tension rises. Hurt occurs. Trying to save life you lose it.
Here’s another exercise I have recommended to colleagues at the university: Next time you receive an email that you find disagreeable or offensive, don’t do anything. Let it go. Let your feelings about it go. Let the content go. Maybe in a few days’ time respond. You will look at it very differently then.
Or try this. Next time you are in a dispute with a colleague and you think your way is the right way, as she does hers, simply yield. Let go. Don’t be attached to your solution. Counterintuitive? Try it and see how much gets done, how much better you feel, and how your relationships improve. Yield to the Dao. Let go of the self.
In the shadow of an unpredictable election, and in the face of all the world’s uncertainties—be it a hurricane, the climate crisis, or political upheaval—yielding doesn’t mean apathy. It means trusting that there’s a path forward that’s not dependent on controlling every outcome. It is, ironically, how we find our footing, especially in times of crisis.
Now, if I can only take my own advice …
— +Ab. Andy