
“Muddy water, let it be still, a
— Laozi, Dao De Jing, Chapter 15
In the West, we’re taught to stir things up. Push harder. Fix it now. If something’s broken—do something. If we don’t feel right—change it, fast.
But the Dao whispers something older.
Something deeper.
Something harder to hear.
It tells us that stillness—not struggle—is the way back to clarity.
Imagine a pond, freshly muddied. If you panic and plunge your hands in to “fix it,” what happens? You stir the muck deeper. The water gets cloudier. But if you wait—if you trust stillness—bit by bit, the mud settles. And what once was murky becomes clear again.
So it is with the heart.
So it is with the mind.
In recovery, we often feel we must understand everything now, heal it all now, make amends, fix the past, control the future. But the Dao says: Be still. Let it settle. Let the truth rise on its own, not because you force it, but because you stopped forcing everything else.
Clarity isn’t wrestled from chaos.
It’s revealed when we stop fighting the water.



