Ancient Chinese philosophy will teach us to flow like a river past all problems, anxiety, and challenges—to find our path with ease and without struggle, in perfect harmony with nature, even with all our modern technology.
It may begin as mere curiosity, it may be a search for “meaning,” but what perhaps more than anything drives a person in the modern world to suddenly explore philosophy, ancient knowledge, and wise teachings is their immense desire and need to remove the burden of accumulating suffering, stress, and the increasing grip of anxiety from their shoulders. Because despite all the modern methods, some more effective than others, many instinctively feel that the solutions don’t necessarily have to be endlessly complex. Maybe the fundamental issue lies in our way of thinking, and perhaps salvation is “somewhere close,” nearby, but we simply can’t perceive it just by rearranging our own thoughts.
It’s true that the modern person is plagued by countless worries. It’s as if new ones are constantly emerging while the old ones remain unresolved. We often find little comfort in the grandiose claims of economists and statisticians who persistently insist that we are “living better than ever.” We’re aware of the conveniences of modern life, and the fact that we enjoy a lifespan our ancestors a hundred or more years ago could only dream of. But it is cynical and fundamentally wrong to claim that, because of this, modern people “must” be happy. Each individual knows quite well what makes them dissatisfied, what the main reasons are for their sleepless nights (or the hours spent staring into the darkness, unable to banish catastrophic thoughts).
But those who have been awakened by suffering and feel the need to escape from this seemingly hopeless state are already on a very good path. Philosophy can be—and has been—a way out for thousands of years. But it needs to be let in, especially today when the world is witnessing a dramatic rise in the “permanent solution to temporary problems” (suicide).
Philosophy is like a buffet table, and at our core, we are all so different. One person may stumble upon Friedrich Nietzsche and discover immense power and strength in his ideas. Another may pick up the same book and fall into deep depression upon reading this giant as he boldly proclaims: “God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him.”
Few things can be as beautiful as learning about the greatest thinkers of humanity—it’s like learning about our own infinite mental potential. But it’s important to say that not every philosophy is for everyone. All knowledge is enriching, but that certainly doesn’t mean we should identify with all of it.
That said, the philosophy we will explore today is well worth embracing in many respects. When we speak of the suffering of existence, our struggles with unmet goals, and the feeling that things are not going as planned or in our favor, it’s hard—almost impossible—to find a philosophy that more effortlessly and gracefully alleviates our concerns, if we give it a chance. Welcome to Taoism.
Let’s begin with a small assumption. If your path has ever led you to explore Eastern philosophies, religions, and teachings, there’s a good chance you first “stumbled” upon the biggest one—Buddhism. Perhaps you liked it, especially when you discovered that Buddhism isn’t actually a religion, at least not in the way we in the West understand religion. And why wouldn’t you? It’s one of the most beautiful stories ever told. A young prince, Siddhartha Gautama, one day discovered that the world was nothing like it seemed from within the palace walls. He exhaustively sought the truth and teachings that would help him cope with the suffering all around us. He tried everything—fasting, pushing his body and mind to the limits, speaking with the greatest scholars of his time—until after years of searching, he collapsed under a fig tree and woke up as truly “awakened,” enlightened, as the “Buddha.” He realized the goal is neither starvation nor indulgence, neither immense joy nor great suffering, neither poverty nor wealth—the goal is the middle way, moderation in all things.
Your first contact with the basic teachings of Buddhism likely fascinated you. But a Buddhist isn’t satisfied with that discovery alone… they aim higher, seeking greater insight, deeper enlightenment, striving for the ultimate state known as nirvana.
Still sounds fascinating, but… maybe also a bit too much to take on all at once? Because you came here hoping to lighten your daily burdens, to better handle life’s challenges. Now this wisdom that initially thrilled you seems to suggest a massive commitment, that this is just the beginning, that the real journey is yet to come. On top of that, you now need to slowly start thinking about reincarnation, “collecting” Karma points… Yes, Buddhism isn’t a religion, you study Buddha but don’t worship him as a god. Still… maybe it all feels a bit too complicated, and all these steps and rules start to trigger a new wave of anxiety. If that’s the case, then perhaps Buddhism isn’t for you—or not yet—but you might be equally, or even more, inspired if you channel the same curiosity into Taoism.
Daoism or Taoism (same thing; the spelling depends on whether one uses older or modern Chinese transcription—Taoism is more common, so we’ll stick with that) is an ancient Chinese philosophy that arose sometime between the 6th and 4th centuries BCE, during the great upheaval of the fascinating “Hundred Schools of Thought” period—roughly the same time as Confucianism emerged (for historical context, see the previous article on Confucius: This Is Confucius, Creator of the Unstoppable East).
Numerous small Chinese states, not yet unified under powerful dynasties, competed in warfare and thought. Many original and intriguing philosophies were born during that era, but they largely shared one foundational idea: how to organize society so it would be functional, productive, and unified, while allowing the individual to live in harmony with themselves and the world around them. Confucianism ultimately triumphed, placing strong emphasis on rituals, social hierarchy, family roles, encouraging the development of a moral, upright individual, and a ruler who the people would respect and emulate. Confucianism was advanced for its time and naturally appealed to rulers who, after the wars and unification of China, quickly adopted it as official doctrine.
But what happened to all the other philosophies of that time? What about that boiling pot of ideas? Surely they didn’t all simply “fall away”? Many did, as they were often variations on the same theme: structuring society. Confucianism was the most developed and built on existing ancient rituals. But one idea stood out—almost entirely different, divergent in many ways from structured Confucianism, which, despite encouraging wisdom, also placed (many) expectations on individuals. That idea was Taoism—a truly radical concept, even by today’s standards, and especially back then.
It would be a stretch to say that Taoism turns Confucianism on its head (they come from the same cultural background), although at times it certainly appears that way.
So what is Taoism?
Taoism was founded by a Chinese philosopher named Lao Tzu (literally “Old Master”), who, according to tradition, lived in the 6th century BCE. This sage wrote the Tao Te Ching, without a doubt one of the most important books in all of Chinese history.
The core of Taoism is a philosophy of ease of being and the belief that force achieves nothing. No matter how hard we push and insist on a desired outcome, that doesn’t mean we’ll get it. In fact, reality often works the opposite way. Only when we let go, when we abandon our rigid persistence, may we reach our goal with such ease that it surprises us.
Imagine a river flowing through the landscape, always finding its way. It does so effortlessly. No obstacle prevents it—it simply flows around the rocks. If necessary, it flows underground, always finding its path without great struggle or force. This is, we might say, the essence of Taoism: a path of harmony and balance, perfectly aligned with nature rather than resisting it.
Taoism teaches us to embrace the concept of “Wu Wei”, which translates as “non-action” or “effortless action.” This concept is the foundation of the entire teaching, telling us that we can reach our goals not through intense effort but through understanding and aligning with the rhythm of the universe. The word “Tao” means “the Way,” or in a broader sense—the path of the universe.
As mentioned, Taoism is not a religion in the classical sense and does not involve worship of gods. It recognizes only one thing—the Tao, considered the source of all existence. What exactly is this mysterious Tao? It’s a kind of energy. Taoists never define it clearly because that would contradict the very nature of their philosophy. Tao is simply the natural order governing the universe. Everything is interconnected through the Tao.
Taoism values simplicity, humility, modesty. It encourages followers to live simple lives, not to be overly attached to desires or materialism. But here’s where it differs from many teachings—Taoism will not “punish” you if you live outside its recommendations. If, despite advice to live in harmony with nature, you choose a life of excess, indulgence, and wealth… that’s fine too. You are still part of the whole. In fact, you may represent one end of the yin and yangspectrum.
Taoism didn’t invent yin and yang—the symbol predates it—but it embraced it deeply. The Western interpretation of yin and yang is often misguided, especially from a Taoist perspective. The point isn’t that “good and evil” are in constant battle or that duality rules the world. It’s simpler (and infinitely more complex): yin and yang merge into each other. Darkness and light coexist—they cannot exist without each other. Together, they form a whole, just like hot and cold.
Yin and yang are not static opposites. The symbol represents a dynamic and ever-changing balance, reflecting the cyclical nature of life itself.
Living according to Taoism means living spontaneously, responding to the present moment, with a strong emphasis on the now.
Taoism teaches that there are no absolute definitions. It teaches that concepts such as good and bad, success and failure, are actually relative. What is helpful in one context may be harmful in another. Understanding this relativity leads to wisdom.
Few philosophies are as deeply intertwined with nature. Taoism encourages alignment with nature, seeing it as the ultimate expression of the Tao. Nature is considered perfectly balanced, and its effortless processes—perfect.
It also emphasizes health and longevity, again, in harmony with nature. This includes practices like meditation, breathwork, and other techniques aimed at aligning body, mind, and spirit. At the same time, Taoism teaches that change is constant, and true wisdom lies in accepting and adapting to each change without resistance. Living in accordance with the Tao means being maximally flexible.
Moreover, Taoism teaches us to simply let go of what we cling to. To attain real peace and satisfaction, we must release our desires, ambitions, and cravings.
Taoism is a life philosophy that tells us there’s no need to force anything. Other teachings—especially religions—often impose strict rules on how to live. Taoism doesn’t. If you want a partner or family, great—let it happen naturally. If not, or you want to live alone in a forest—that’s completely fine too. Every path is equally valid. In Taoism, no one judges you for anything.
Now, compare that to many religions that have very clear definitions of what’s allowed, what isn’t, and what punishment awaits if you stray too far.
Taoism simply invites us to live, and not burden ourselves with countless expectations—our own, or those of others or society.
The key is staying focused on the main concept: Wu Wei, or “non-action.” Now that we’ve gotten a better grasp of Taoism’s key principles, let’s address a common misunderstanding, especially around Wu Wei. Many, when they hear that the core of a philosophy is “non-action,” think it promotes passivity, laziness, or even weakness. But in Taoism, nothing could be further from the truth, and here’s why.
Translations from ancient Chinese can be awkward, so a broader interpretation is needed. The phrase Wu Wei actually means that all our actions should be in harmony with nature, in tune with what’s happening around us. Instead of fighting life’s circumstances, we should flow with them, accept them as part of life, and act accordingly—calmly, without tension or strain, but wisely and effectively.
Does that mean we sometimes “act”? Absolutely—but in a way that’s the opposite of brute force. Imagine pursuing a goal and instead of pouring in huge effort and energy, you just nudge the situation gently so that it “falls” exactly where you want it. You acted—yes—but wisely, without stress or strain.
If that sounds abstract, we can give modern examples. Let’s say you’re at work, meeting with a potential client. Instead of aggressively selling your product, you create a pleasant atmosphere for both sides. Again, like a wise river, you listen to their needs, their interests, and eventually find the one key point that ensures the deal. Maybe it’s just one word that resonates deeply with the client, convincing them this is exactly what they were looking for.
You exerted very little force and pressure, almost none, but you approached the situation wisely, practicing Wu Wei, and achieved the desired outcome.
An example of Wu Wei in action would be a situation where you need to come up with a new design or idea for a project. Instead of racking your brain and nervously drinking your tenth cup of coffee while scouring the internet in search of inspiration, it would be better to take a step back, move away from your desk, relax for a moment, and give your brain a break. It might reward you surprisingly quickly with the very idea you were missing.
A parent wants their child to get good grades and uses force by making them study, while simultaneously stressing out when they see the child isn’t doing enough. A Taoist, starting from the principle of Wu Wei, would know that a far better strategy is to nurture the child’s desire to learn by encouraging them to explore topics they find interesting.
Let’s say you want to get fit. You might copy someone else’s workout routine and push yourself to the limit trying to follow their path to success. And what usually happens? A lot of energy is invested, but eventually, you burn out and realize you just can’t keep up. Instead, it would’ve been better to find an activity you genuinely enjoy that also keeps you in shape—like walking, yoga, or swimming. By listening to yourself and aligning with your own natural rhythm, you’ll always get better long-term results.
Not to mention how many interpersonal conflicts can be resolved much more easily through calmness and “non-action” than through aggression, yelling, or slamming doors…
Speaking of nature, there is no clearer and more beautiful example of Wu Wei than tending a garden. A farmer must adapt to natural conditions and seasons if they want to be successful. They must fully accept that the same approach won’t work in spring and autumn. By relying on nature, they can achieve excellent results with minimal intervention.
Taoism is a philosophy one can always begin to learn, but it has no true end, as its very essence resists definition. Philosophers—especially those of later times—love explanations and crave them. But the “Tao” will always just be Tao, that something present all around us. The moment we try to label it as soul, energy, or even God, we’ve likely broken the only rule of Taoism—Tao cannot be defined, at least not with words. We have only two options: either live in harmony with the Tao (i.e., with natural balance) or go against it, resisting something that surrounds us and of which we are made. Once we realize how unnecessary and futile that is, the joy of living will come naturally.
Some might say the modern world has become too modern for Taoism, with all its technology, and that there’s no room for it anymore. But that would be a great misconception, because Taoism teaches us that change is ever-present. In fact, we should not resist change, but flow with it like a river. This certainly applies to technology as well. There is no point in resisting new advancements—we’d be better off learning to navigate and use them to our benefit. That doesn’t mean we must turn away from nature; the choice is ours.
And there is still so much more we haven’t said about Taoism—but that’s a journey that goes on endlessly. Have you heard of Tai Chi? It’s a Chinese martial art rooted in Taoism, based on gentle and calming movements meant to activate internal energy, known as “Chi” (another important Taoist concept).
We mentioned the “old master,” and as important and influential as Laozi was, his successor Zhuangzi was equally significant. He expanded on Laozi’s teachings and gave them even clearer shape.
As expected, the authorities in China were not initially thrilled with Taoism, which is understandable. Taoism never advocates for political rule over people—instead, natural laws are seen as supreme. In this sense, Taoism is almost anarchistic in nature. It took a long time before Chinese dynasties accepted Taoism, which would later blend with the preferred Confucianism.
One might assume Taoists weren’t particularly warlike, but there were cases when they rose up against corrupt and unjust governments—such as during the Yellow Turban Rebellion from 184 to 205 CE.
Interestingly, Taoism later merged significantly with Confucianism, and together with Buddhism, they form the foundation of modern Chinese thought. However, Taoism’s influence can be felt throughout Asia. It’s estimated that today, there are between 10 and 20 million Taoist followers. In the West, it remains largely unknown, especially compared to Buddhism, which—thanks to Hollywood (and geopolitics)—has in some ways become “commercialized.”
As for the initial idea—that the search for philosophy is often sparked by the desire to relieve the burdens of daily challenges—few philosophies address this as directly as Taoism. It teaches us to accept our fate, because there’s no other option, but not to passively resign ourselves to it. It teaches us to be wise observers of ourselves and the universe we live in. To give up the idea that we can solve our problems by “bashing through the wall.” Instead, we can be like water—resilient and unwavering—which always finds its way. Whatever container or situation it’s placed in, it effortlessly takes that shape, instantly adapting. That’s how we must approach our problems: around them, under them, alongside them—always looking for a way, because we know a way must exist. In that lies the beauty of perseverance, struggle, survival, and living.
Our journey of discovering Taoism can only end in one fitting way: by looking back at the original texts—some selected quotes whose wisdom hasn’t faded in over 2,500 years:
- “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” – Laozi
- “Those who know do not speak. Those who speak do not know.” – Laozi
- “Be like water: soft and gentle, yet it overcomes the hardest obstacles.” – Laozi
- “Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.” – Laozi
- “When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.” – Laozi
- “A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.” – Laozi
- “The best way to do something is to simply be.” – Laozi
- “The Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao; the name that can be named is not the eternal name.” – Laozi
- “Great acts are made up of small deeds.” – Laozi
- “A wise person knows what they do not know.” – Laozi
- “Mastering others is strength. Mastering yourself is true power.” – Laozi
- “When you realize you lack nothing, the whole world belongs to you.” – Laozi
- “Knowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom.” – Laozi
- “I have just three things to teach: simplicity, patience, compassion. These three are your greatest treasures.” – Laozi
- “The more laws and restrictions there are, the poorer the people become.” – Laozi
- “He who knows he has enough is truly rich.” – Laozi
- “Flow with whatever may happen, and let your mind be free: stay centered by accepting whatever you are doing. This is the ultimate.” – Zhuangzi
- “Happiness is the absence of striving for happiness.” – Zhuangzi
- “The path is made by walking it.” – Zhuangzi
- “The perfect person uses their mind like a mirror: it grasps nothing, it refuses nothing. It receives, but does not keep.” – Zhuangzi
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