Captain Michael: Good evening!
This morning we talked about water that moves.
Tonight, I’ve been thinking about water that doesn’t.
Th
Good evening!
This morning we talked about water that moves.
Tonight, I’ve been thinking about water that doesn’t.
There’s something remarkable about a perfectly still piece of water.
It becomes a mirror.
Sky. Clouds. Trees. Stars. Your own face leaning over the side.
All of it is there.
Throw a stone into that same water and the reflection disappears.
Nothing above the water changed.
Only the surface did.
I think we do much the same thing.
When the mind is churned up—worrying about tomorrow, replaying yesterday, arguing with things we cannot change—we can look directly at what is in front of us and still not see it clearly.
We usually respond by trying harder.
More thinking.
More analyzing.
More doing.
Maybe sometimes the answer is the opposite.
Leave the water alone.
Let the ripples travel outward.
Let them fade.
Wait.
The Taoists understood this. So did a lot of old contemplatives who never used the word Tao.
Clarity isn’t always something we have to create.
Sometimes it’s what remains when we stop disturbing the surface.
I’ve spent enough evenings sitting aboard a boat to have watched a harbor make that transformation.
Wind dies.
Boats stop swinging.
The surface settles.
And suddenly the same water you’ve been looking at all day starts holding the whole damn sky.
Nothing was added.
The water simply became still enough to reflect what had been there all along.
Maybe there’s a lesson in that.
Tonight, don’t try quite so hard to figure everything out.
Let the water settle.
See what’s there.
Good evening from the boat.
#WhatWaterKnows, #StillWater, #Taoism, #Reflection, #Philosophy, #LessonsFromTheSea, #SailingLife, #WellLivedLife, #CrypTok
Captain Michael: Good evening! This morning we talked about water that moves. Tonight, I’ve been thinking about water that doesn’t. There
Good evening! This morning we talked about water that moves. Tonight, I’ve been thinking about water that doesn’t. There’s something remarkable about a perfectly still piece of water. It becomes a mirror. Sky. Clouds. Trees. Stars. Your own face leaning over the side. All of it is there. Throw a stone into that same water and the reflection disappears. Nothing above the water changed. Only the surface did. I think we do much the same thing. When the mind is churned up—worrying about tomorrow, replaying yesterday, arguing with things we cannot change—we can look directly at what is in front of us and still not see it clearly. We usually respond by trying harder. More thinking. More analyzing. More doing. Maybe sometimes the answer is the opposite. Leave the water alone. Let the ripples travel outward. Let them fade. Wait. The Taoists understood this. So did a lot of old contemplatives who never used the word Tao. Clarity isn’t always something we have to create. Sometimes it’s what remains when we stop disturbing the surface. I’ve spent enough evenings sitting aboard a boat to have watched a harbor make that transformation. Wind dies. Boats stop swinging. The surface settles. And suddenly the same water you’ve been looking at all day starts holding the whole damn sky. Nothing was added. The water simply became still enough to reflect what had been there all along. Maybe there’s a lesson in that. Tonight, don’t try quite so hard to figure everything out. Let the water settle. See what’s there. Good evening from the boat. #WhatWaterKnows, #StillWater, #Taoism, #Reflection, #Philosophy, #LessonsFromTheSea, #SailingLife, #WellLivedLife, #CrypTok
Good evening! This morning we talked about water that moves. Tonight, I’ve been thinking about water that doesn’t. There’s something remarkable about a perfectly still piece of water. It becomes a mirror. Sky. Clouds. Trees. Stars. Your own face leaning over the side. All of it is there. Throw a stone into that same water and the reflection disappears. Nothing above the water changed. Only the surface did. I think we do much the same thing. When the mind is churned up—worrying about tomorrow, replaying yesterday, arguing with things we cannot change—we can look directly at what is in front of us and still not see it clearly. We usually respond by trying harder. More thinking. More analyzing. More doing. Maybe sometimes the answer is the opposite. Leave the water alone. Let the ripples travel outward. Let them fade. Wait. The Taoists understood this. So did a lot of old contemplatives who never used the word Tao. Clarity isn’t always something we have to create. Sometimes it’s what remains when we stop disturbing the surface. I’ve spent enough evenings sitting aboard a boat to have watched a harbor make that transformation. Wind dies. Boats stop swinging. The surface settles. And suddenly the same water you’ve been looking at all day starts holding the whole damn sky. Nothing was added. The water simply became still enough to reflect what had been there all along. Maybe there’s a lesson in that. Tonight, don’t try quite so hard to figure everything out. Let the water settle. See what’s there. Good evening from the boat. #WhatWaterKnows, #StillWater, #Taoism, #Reflection, #Philosophy, #LessonsFromTheSea, #SailingLife, #WellLivedLife, #CrypTok
