Mud Settling
Beloved,
I’m sitting in my office, writing these very words that you are reading.
As I don’t have a particular topic in mind, I’m just starting by writing these words.
It gets the juices flowing.
If the past is any guide, chances are you won’t read what I’m typing in right now.
Writers refer to this, what I’m typing now, as a SFD—a-shitty-first-draft.
So, will these words make it into the 77% Weekly newsletter?”
You know.
I don’t.
Not yet.
I won’t know the fate of these words until the end.
And, that annoys me.
—
Lao Tzu:
Do you have the patience to wait until your mud settles?
Can you remain unmoving, until the right action arises by itself?
—
Me (and probably you, too):
No!
—
Lately, I’ve gotten better at noticing when I’m annoyed simply because things aren’t or didn’t unfold how I imagined.
I am better at noticing myself getting annoyed when all that has happened is things didn’t play out as I thought they would play out.
I thought Jane should have taken Broadway back to our house and she decided to take Knott.
I can get less annoyed the less attached I am to things going as I thought they should.
It would be better if I could just watch. Observe. Wait for the mud to settle.
—
The mud settling part of the Lao Tzu quote is actually two sentences from the middle of verse 15 of the Tao Te Ching.
Here’s the whole thing:
The ancient Masters were profound and subtle.
Their wisdom was unfathomable.
There is no way to describe it;
all we can describe is their appearance.
They were careful
as someone crossing an iced-over stream.
Alert as a warrior in enemy territory.
Courteous as a guest.
Fluid as melting ice.
Shapeable as a block of wood.
Receptive as a valley.
Clear as a glass of water.
Do you have the patience to wait
till your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving
till the right action arises by itself?
The Master doesn’t seek fulfillment.
Not seeking, not expecting,
she is present, and can welcome all things.
—
Those last lines speak to me:
- Not seeking fulfillment
- Not expecting
- Just being present
- Welcoming all things
—
So here I am, at the end of the article, and I now know the introduction about a shitty-first-draft made it in.
(It’s been edited. A lot. Like a lot. I don’t write this well without lots of re-writing.)
I’m no longer irritated about not knowing its fate—but that’s not because I’ve mastered non-attachment. It’s because that mud settled.
I can clearly see that this article came together.
—
May we, this week, be as receptive as a valley, shapeable as a block of wood, clear as a glass of water.
May we better stay present with the unresolved, the unfinished, and the unknown.
The mud doesn’t settle on our schedule.
In a world that rewards speed, being right, and having certainty, choosing stillness might be help.
Let’s practice waiting.
