The Art of Effortless Action
by Steve McGill
The essay below is one that I recently wrote as an example of a “Concept Essay” for the students in my English Composition class. A Concept Essay is one in which you explain a concept to the reader, including information about its history, how it is defined, and, in some cases, how it has evolved over the years. The concept I chose to write about is “Wu Wei,” one of the major tenets of Taoism — the Chinese religious philosophy that emphasizes an approach to life that is in harmony with the laws of nature. For me, Wu Wei, which translates into “effortless action,” is the underlying, fundamental principle behind how I coach my hurdlers. The downhill hurdling style, in which the legs cycle and in which there are no pauses in the action, is rooted in this concept of Wu Wei, which I was first introduced to during my first or second year of coaching. I embraced it instantly, as it validated just about everything that I had already believed when it came to the relationship between speed, technique, and rhythm when hurdling. For me, abstract philosophies like Wu Wei are only relevant if I can apply them to real life in a concrete manner. And Wu Wei, more than any other philosophy I’ve encountered, is directly applicable to hurdling. So, while reading the essay below, you will see no mention of hurdling specifically, but you should be making connections to the hurdles the whole time.
We live in times that are increasingly fast-paced, and we are living with constant pressure to “succeed” in some manner, to prove ourselves superior to others, to assert our dominance over circumstances, situations, nature, and other people. We are bombarded with advice in the form of sayings like “if you want it to happen, make it happen” and “go for what you know,” and we’re always being reminded that we can’t reach our goals if we don’t put in the work. While striving for success has its merits, and there is value to accomplishing difficult feats through effort and will power and stamina, is there perhaps another way to approach our endeavors and how we view our lives and how we relate to each other? Yes, there is, and it is embodied in the term “Wu Wei” — a fundamental tenet of the Chinese religion/philosophy known as Taoism. With this approach, the emphasis lies not in making things happen, but in allowing things to happen, not in imposing one’s will, but in surrendering one’s will.
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Taoism originated in China during the 4th century BCE, right around the same time as a similar religious philosophy known as Confucianism. (Laozi IX) Lao Tzu, the founder of Taoism, and Confucius, the founder of Confucianism, were contemporaries, although there is much debate as to whether or not the person referred to as Lao Tzu ever actually existed. While there are many similarities in the two philosophies in that they both provide advice on how to live a peaceful, virtuous life, Confucianism takes a more practical, step-by-step approach, encouraging people to strive for virtue, whereas Taoism claims that virtue is not something to be sought or attained, but is something that arises from within.
The primary text of Taoism, the Tao Te Ching, is a book of 81 verses that provides practical wisdom for how to live one’s life and how to govern. The title of the book roughly translates into “The Way of Water,” or, “The Way of Least Resistance,” or “The Way of Nature.” The overarching theme of the book is that life is paradoxical, and that traditional logic is therefore illogical. That which we call paradox is actually a unity of opposites, as represented by the yin/yang symbol. This symbol is a circle that is half-white, half-black, but there is no clear dividing line between the two, as the black curves into the white and the white curves into the black. Also, there is a small circle of white within the black, and a small circle of black within the white, signifying that light and dark, love and hate, good and evil, sorrow and joy, are not opposites, but are aspects of a larger unified whole. Therefore, by that reasoning, nothing in life should be rejected, and nothing in life should be celebrated. Life is a continuum. The title of the book refers to the notion that nothing in life needs to be forced because there is already a natural flow that has never not existed. Our purpose, then, is to align ourselves with this flow, to surrender to it, become one with it, so that we embody its energy.
So what is Wu Wei? It is a Taoistic concept that is directly related to this concept of “going with the flow” — a phrase that has become a cliche in modern society, and that therefore has become oversimplified. Wu Wei can be translated in a number of ways. It is sometimes translated to mean “non-action,” or “inaction,” or “effortless action.” ( Reninger) On the surface, the term seems to be inferring that we don’t have to “do” anything in life to reach our goals or to be successful, and that we can, instead, just sit around and be lazy and let things run their course. That would be the “non-action” or “inaction” interpretation. But “effortless action” would be the most accurate interpretation, as it implies an ability to minimize extraneous effort so that one’s actions feel effortless. In nature, a Taoist would observe, things happen effortlessly. Fall bleeds into winter, winter bleeds into spring, spring bleeds into summer, and summer bleeds into fall. And this cycle repeats itself over and over again. Even within the human body, the heart beats, the pulse throbs, the lungs breathe, old cells die and new ones are born, and none of this requires any effort on the part of the individual.
The idea is to first become aware of this constant flow, to observe it. The cycles of the moon around the earth, the orbits of the planets around the sun, the falling leaves in autumn, the blooming leaves in spring, the season of planting, the season of harvest. By observing this constant flow, the logical next step is to practice it, and to then become it. In observing that birth and death are merely two nodes in a never-ending cyclical process, the mind becomes liberated from the need to seek “positive” experiences and to avoid “negative” experiences. Such labels fall by the wayside.
Part of the second verse of the Tao Te Ching reads as follows:
“… the master acts without doing anything
and teaches without saying anything.
Things arise and she lets them come;
things disappear and she lets them go.
She has but doesn’t possess,
acts but doesn’t expect.
When her work is done, she forgets it.
That is why it lasts forever.” (Laozi 2)
These lines are filled with paradoxical statements. How does one act without doing anything? How does one teach without saying anything? On the surface, this is nonsense. But beneath the surface, it’s not. Well-trained athletes, musicians, painters, chefs, sculptors, etc. are all familiar with the feeling of acting without effort. The song just writes itself. When the body performs movements efficiently without interference or instruction from the conscious mind, this is Wu Wei, this is acting without doing anything. A teacher does not need to “say” anything because her lesson lies in the example she sets, in the authenticity of her character. People will always follow the lead of someone who is genuine, so there is no need to coerce people, to convince people of one’s worthiness as a leader. The master, according to the above verse, understands that she is a part of the constant ebb and flow of life, that she is a drop in the ocean of life. But she also, by natural consequence, understands that by becoming a drop in the ocean, she becomes the whole ocean. Therefore, there is no need to claim a victory as a personal victory, there is no need to claim authorship of one’s creation. Eternity lies not in the preservation of the created item (the song, the painting, the meal, etc.), but in the act of creating itself.
Verse 9 of the Tao Te Ching reads, in full, as follows:
“Fill your bowl to the brim
and it will spill.
Keep sharpening your knife
and it will blunt.
Chase after money and security
and your heart will never unclench.
Care about other people’s approval
and you will always be their prisoner.
Do your work, then step back.
The only path to serenity.” (Laozi 9)
This verse is clearly going against traditional worldly wisdom, which instructs us that we absolutely should fill our bowl to the brim, that we absolutely should chase after money and security, and that we absolutely should care about other people’s approval. How can one get ahead in life otherwise? Lao Tzu is arguing here that it’s the chase itself that brings misery because it causes emotional imbalances. When we assert our will, he is arguing, we are going against the natural flow, and thereby causing our own inner discord. Even if one obtains the money one craves, even if one finds the security one seeks, the money has to be protected, and so does the security, which, instead of eliminating one’s anxiety, only adds to it.
Verse 22 of the Tao Te Ching reads, in part, as follows:
“The Master, by residing in the Tao,
sets an example for all beings.
Because he doesn’t display himself,
people can see his light.
Because he has nothing to prove,
people can trust his words.
Because he doesn’t know who he is,
people recognize themselves in him.
Because he has no goal in mind,
everything he does succeeds.” (Laozi 22)
On the surface, it sounds like Lao Tzu is saying in the last two lines that it’s best to have no goals at all because, that way, one can never fall short of one’s goals. But he is actually saying that goals themselves are limiting. If human potential is limitless, then why set limits? Also, he is saying that goals create mental/emotional labels such as “failure” and “success” to begin with. A true painter is not seeking to be the best painter in the world, but simply to paint. A true musician is not striving to be the best musician in the world, but simply to play music. And in the love of the playing itself, he will grow, he will learn, he will become a master of his instrument. But always in the spirit of creative play. When one has no agenda, Lao Tzu is saying, when one is not living life as a competition, when one has nothing to prove and no territory to defend, then one is open to all of humanity, and all humans can feel a personal connection to that individual. Because he belongs to no one, he belongs to everyone.
To conclude, the concept of Wu Wei provides people with another option for how to approach their everyday lives. Because our egos are such a dominant aspect of our psyche, and because we live in a society that often discourages inward reflection (and that often frowns upon those who are not goal-oriented), learning to embody the concept of effortless action can be quite difficult, and could lead to the feeling of being an outsider in society. As Lao Tzu says in Verse 20, “Other people are bright; / I alone am dark. / Other people are sharper; / I alone am dull. / Other people have a purpose; / I alone don’t know. / I drift like a wave on the ocean, / I blow as aimless as the wind.” (Laozi 20) To drift like a wave is not for everybody. And to tell people that they “should” embrace Wu Wei as a life principle goes against the very principle itself. To quote a line from the song “Box of Rain” by the Grateful Dead, “believe it if you need it; if you don’t just pass it on.” (Lesh)
Works Cited
Laozi. Tao Te Ching. Edited by Stephen Mitchell, Harper Perennial, 1992.
Lesh, Phil & Robert C. Christie Hunter. “Box of Rain.” American Beauty. Warner Bros, 1970.
Reninger, Elizabeth. “Wu Wei: The Taoist Principle of Action in Non-Action.” Learn Religions. 25 June 2019, accessed 5 October 2021. https://www.learnreligions.com/wu-wei-the-action-of-non-action-3183209
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