The silence of the Tao does not argue.
Everywhere and nowhere,
Hidden in the heart of things.
It waits.
In time, the world yields.

Wisdom teaches without speaking,
acts without claiming credit.
In stillness, all things are accomplished.
In silence, the deepest truths are heard.

The stone does not feel the water's argument—
only, over time, its shape changing,
edges smooth into surrender.

Empty like a bowl,
useful by what it does not contain,
Wisdom needs no defense,
truth requires no proof—
they simply are, and wait,
like dawn that comes without announcement.
The seasons change without invitation.

The Tao accomplishes everything
by doing nothing,
wins every contest
by refusing to compete,
answers every question
by resting in silence.

. . .

To wait patiently as things unfold, even when they seem to be unfolding in an adverse way, is a kind of suffering. I have a bias toward action. I don’t take to patience naturally.

It seems that on the spiritual path, the Tao, or whatever spiritual forces may exist out there (or in here), constantly ups the ante. Behavior, actions, that were okay yesterday are no longer permissible. Once a spiritual insight is offered, failure to follow through and put it into action seems to result in disproportionately adverse consequences.

. . .

Journal Note

I can think of a number of times in my life when patience, in retrospect, would have had a significant positive result, but I just couldn’t wait.

. . .