The Nature of Taoism
By Brielle Howlett
With a white beard, round glasses, and keen wisdom, my grandfather was a knowing soul. Philosophical and introspective, he was known for his indulgence in long-winded conversations and ritualistic tinkering with his 1973 Karmann Ghia Volkswagen. When he took his final breath in 2021, I found myself speaking a sacred oath—“Everything I do will always be for you.” Three years later, I’m dancing through different spiritual worlds, trying to find rhythm in the natural processes around me.
I often feel the urge to challenge my being and explore meaning in the words that flow from my mouth. My heart beats rhythms resembling the Taoist tradition of duality in the natural world. Whether that be light and dark or rebirth and death, the cycles of ups and downs throughout my life mirror the natural processes of the Earth. Being in harmony with all that is around me is the first step to nestling into Taoist thought.
The taijitu or Tai Chi symbol, which famously expresses the yin-yang concept, is illustrated by a circle divided into two parts, expressing the world’s natural duality. A traditional interpretation of the yin-yang recognizes femininity and masculinity as a way of displaying that duality. One half, painted in black, symbolizes the yin: a feminine, dark, passive presence of being. The other half, colored in white, symbolizes the yang: a more masculine, strong presence of being. Both circles have alternate solid-colored spots extending the idea of balance and how they rely on each other. These gendered interpretations represent one way of looking at the symbol, yet the yin-yang principles can certainly be applied elsewhere. Branded on my thick skin, the yin-yang is a symbol of the everchanging duality of all souls. As I begin to spiral into the significance of this symbol, the words from my grandfather, and the thoughts of Chinese philosophers, I find myself pondering what else there is to Taoist tradition.
“Nature never hurries, yet everything is accomplished.” These words from Chinese and Taoist philosopher Lao Tzu remind us to simply be, granting reassurance that everything will march to its own beat. In the 6th century BC, Lao Tzu, also the founder of Taoism, observed the duality of the world around him through his harmonious experiences with the earth. Taoism runs through my veins and throughout my body. It spills into my eyes and shifts the way I see the world.
Seeking understanding through the words of my grandfather, I decided to explore some of his writings that were published in his blog named “Tao1776.” From interactions with his chickens to discussions of the philosophy of the Tao Te Ching, a blog like his is entertaining, insightful, and nostalgic.
Reading his words, awareness crawls up my body, sending shivers down my spine. Our writing appears nearly identical. It feels like deja vu. This feeling of connection and transcendental thought sends me into a spiral resembling the everlasting natural transformations of earth and human life. Reading his heartfelt words in a post titled “Taospring,” I feel grateful to unlock my ancestors' mind and introspections. “It leaves me speechless when someone asks me, ‘What religion are you?’ I admit that I sometimes ponder about being the man who has dug too many wells; many holes with none of them having enough depth to gain the fullness of producing a wellspring of cool, cool water.” In his fifties, my grandfather embraced the yin-yang, yet still questioned his faith in other religions. The metaphorical well, similar to the spiraling portal in Taoism, is a fluid form of religion, hiding in all aspects of nature.
In a post titled “Awakening,” my grandfather wrote, “Sometimes the anonymity of being a tourist lends a temporary comfort; a comfort that eventually leads you back home to when you’re left with a feeling that you haven’t gone anywhere.” I find myself becoming a tourist in Taoist thoughts and philosophy. I am simply observing the things around me, searching for harmony, and soaking in the comfort that trickles from Taoist tradition into my soul. As I cherish all energies, I am gifted with balance and the principles of the Tao.
The portal reference in Taoism symbolizes the initiation of the Tao. The Tao embraces the underlying principles of the universe and the duality that is instilled in the natural world. Taoism has taught me that I must embrace the challenges in life, gifted by knowing that something awaits me on the other side. The universe sends me a sign as the yang climbs, trying to find its way to fit into the yin and nestle into balance. As I seek the Tao, I'm always reminded of my nature to create and embrace all aspects of the natural world.
Taoism is a journey that never ends. As I dance through Taoist thought and philosophy, my curiosity is continually sparked. Lao Tzu once said that when you are free from desire, you realize the mystery. My portal into Taoism has emerged as an eternal mystery that challenges me to ponder the life/death/life process. When I stop and stare at the mysterious inner workings of the earth, whether that be the leaves changing during the fall, or the Ghost Pipes sending signals to neighboring fungi, I am reminded of the mystery that is the Tao.
Water drips through stone,
and with the Tao sitting on a throne,
I stare and smile,
taking a deep breath,
reminded of what we have left.
Exploring different spiritual worlds, I seek comfort, observing the natural processes around me and the voices of the earth.
Wandering the forest,
contemplating peace,
sinking my feet into the earth,
I hear trees whispering… “Let’s rest.”
Nature never hurries. Why should I?
Breathing in the bitter air, observing the shedding leaves, and finding comfort in the creatures hibernating, reminds me of the yin itself. As I scribble thoughts into my journal and listen to the gentle rustle of the trees, my creativity soars. Feeling everything alive, I am transported into a contemplative state, where I'm challenged to truly be. Glancing at the earth below me, I bow to the Tao that is all around me.
But what is left is what is now,
and that is what we must let our minds allow.
The threads of duality stitch into my soul
as I grow aware of the workings,
the mysteries,
that make me feel whole.
Let me change,
Let me dance,
Let me feel the Tao emerge.
Reminded of the Taoism running through my veins, I finally understand nature’s role in duality. Here, I discover a full-circle moment, and I am dancing with the Tao.
Nature’s role,
in all its glory,
from life and death,
is to simply be.
And all that is found in the Tao,
is also in me.
This dance isn’t just a simple twirl or spin. It’s the yang to my yin. It’s the transformative nature of my soul and the rustling of trees that make me feel whole. The contemplative nature gifted by my grandfather and the thoughts that once flowed from his fingertips allow me to find comfort in the cyclical relationship between humans and the more-than-human world. I will continue to dig my well into Taoism as I reconcile my own inner workings with the mysteries of the earth–forever leading with peace and reassurance as I fully embody the Tao. H
Art by Wylie Roberts
