Wu Wei: what I know so far about the art of effortless action.
It’s becoming a bit of a buzzword, isn’t it?
First of all, please note that the concept of wu wei comes from Taoism. Similar ideas exist in other Eastern religions, such as motainai in both Shintoism and Zen Buddhism (which roughly translates to “avoiding waste”, as opposed to wu wei meaning “non-doing”, but they connect philosophically). Click for an example of motainai as “avoiding a waste of energy”. Tibetan schools of Buddhism (such as the one I practise, Nyingma) don’t seem to have a word for it as far as I know (correct me if I’m wrong!), which is why I use the Chinese term here, but the knowledge of avoiding “control freak” tendencies in life is common in Tibetan teachings.
The above clarification is necessary because some people out there are culturally appropriating, instead of appreciating, this practice. The very person who introduced me to it appropriates. I am grateful for the teaching, but do not condone cultural appropriation — and neither should you. By “appropriation”, what I mean here is, specifically, taking a cultural practice without giving credit to the specific tradition that originated it, without mentioning its non-English names, etc. Even if you say “oh but this is a human thing”, you’re appropriating because you’re neglecting to mention which humans, specifically, came up with it. You wouldn’t dare saying “all I know is that I know nothing” is “just a common maxim, who cares which person came up with it?”, would you?! (Socrates. It was Socrates. A Greek philosopher). How would you feel if people started copying you and claiming the ideas you came up with were theirs, as if you (the creator of the idea) didn’t matter? It’s not very nice, is it? That’s why I rant.
So no, cultural appropriation has nothing to do with race or birthplace. It has to do with pretending something is yours when in fact it isn’t, you’re just borrowing it from another culture which kindly taught it to you, and you can’t even be arsed to cite this group of people, from that culture, as your goddamn source. It’s reminiscent of Colonialism and white supremacism, because I’m pretty sure the people who “forget” to credit non-white cultures would never make the same mistake when they’re referring to a European philosophy or custom. As if non-white people were second class citizens in the world who don’t deserve to be perceived as unique people from unique and specific religions/cultures and instead can be all lumped together in a vague-ass “wisdom tradition” monolith.
I see through nice people’s internalised racism and I don’t like it. I’ll speak up about it every single time.
Now, without further ado:
I was born and raised among people who were (and probably still are) badly in need of this teaching.
The skit above pretty much summarises the problem. I love how the whole car ride goes exceptionally smoothly, disproving this character’s many “concerns”.
I also love that she’s Christian (see full video). This goes to show that, yes, there’s something universal about the philosophy behind Wu Wei — present both in Eastern and Western religions — but it’s still important to be CLEAR and NOT DECEITFUL about your source, out of respect for your fellow human beings. Jesus said something about that, didn’t he? Love thy neighbour and all that jazz. April, the video creator, explains the Christian perspective. She doesn’t need to use Chinese buzzwords to sound more mystical if she’s not actually practising an Eastern faith or marketing herself as a teacher of Eastern faiths. She’s respectful.
One interesting realisation I had while researching where the hell the term “non-doing” came from (after learning it from somebody who just didn’t care about giving due credit, I proceeded to ask a former friend from a Chinese background for help in understanding it, only to be hurt by her on top of the annoyance I was already feeling… “fun” times) was that it addresses control freak behaviour.
…Ya know, the exact same control freak behaviour certain people who THINK they understand Wu Wei engage in, and then project it onto me. Oh, what was it again? I’m not allowed to find Wu Wei frustratingly difficult? You think I’m whining because it’s simple? Say that again? Because only 5 minutes ago you were whining about the fact you couldn’t control how I responded to your unsolicited advice, Karen. An Imax level of projection there, ISN’T IT.
Sorry, I needed a sassy moment calling out a person there. The contradictions and lack of self-awareness people exhibit when they backstab me are out-of-this-world, don’t mind it if I’m still outraged. I’m human. I haven’t learned yet how to remain calm and serene when others are disrespecting me so blatantly. I’m not even sure I wanna. The doormat life ain’t for me.
Yes, when you really look into it, Wu Wei is basically an antidote for control freak behaviour. That’s because, when you learn to trust (instead of always expecting the worst, and trying to control the future, and feeling ashamed that you expected the worst and it didn’t happen, and becoming entitled, and sabotageing yourself because how dare the universe doesn’t agree with your opinions about a situation? And then lamenting the fact the worst happened, while ignoring the fact you forced it to happen because you just couldn’t fathom being wrong, and chose “being right, whatever it takes” instead of “letting it go”…) your ego takes the back seat.
Yes, I’ll repeat, now without the call out above: when you learn to trust, your ego takes the back seat. As it should.
Every time we behave as control freaks, we’re giving our egos the steering wheel of our lives. Every single time. The ego gives in to fear. That’s why it’s so controlling.
And needless to say, people with narcissistic disorder (NPD), like my mother, are the epitome of control freaks. They just can’t let things go, can they? No, they’ve got to be always right, always in command of everything they do, and how dare the universe surprise them!
Hence, I was raised by people badly in need of Wu Wei. Subsequently, I connected with many other people (including the acquaintances mentioned above, who aren’t exactly narcissistic) who exhibit control freak tendencies to varying degrees (and are too proud to admit it, let alone heal it)… probably because it felt familiar. Freud explains.
Trauma aside, to make matters even worse, I have a slightly bossy personality (in case you can’t tell… lol). It’s part of my temperament and I think I’m like this ever since I remember, so it could be the result of nature, instead of nurture. I’m aware of it, however, and work towards self-improvement every chance I get. Wu Wei has been helping.
(There are people who lose respect for me the moment they read me say I’m not perfect, because they only respect spiritual bloggers who feign perfection. I’m aware they exist, but that’s it. I am who I am and you can take it or leave it).
Wu Wei goes beyond “graceful and effortless movements”.
A lot of bloggers, particularly in English, emphasise that Wu Wei is not about stagnation. Rightfully so! Wu Wei is about trying not to do MORE THAN you need to achieve each given objective (even if it’s as simple as taking a step or closing a door) — but the basic motion is still needed.
However, that’s not where the story ends.
I mean, sure, Eastern martial arts like Wushu (above) epitomise an effort towards achieving Wu Wei in a very visual manner. They go to show how Wu Wei can be literal, because literality is a valid facet of it. One of the first things you usually learn with a Wushu master (Shaolin or not. Mine was from the Shaolin tradition) is to be mindful of the amount of effort you’re making with each movement, and always minimise it. With time, you learn to notice how our tendency to waste energy in an attempt to “appear” hard-working actually works against us when we’re fighting. Once we start focusing on causing damage (rhetoric word. People don’t actually get hurt in Wushu, they’re just taken to the ground) instead of “how we look to ourselves and others” doing it, we’re on our way towards Wu Wei.
Of course, Wu Wei wasn’t mentioned to me many years ago, back when I was learning the martial art. I was unaware that there was a word for it, let alone a mystery behind it, and didn’t ask either. I’m a very hands-on learner.
Still on the literal meaning of Wu Wei: previous to learning Wushu, I had been to many a physiotherapist because of RSI in several parts of my body. I just couldn’t understand why I was “so weak” that I sustained muscle pain from everyday activities, it’s not like I had any malnourishment or autoimmune disorder or anything like that. Doctors couldn’t solve my problem, but Wushu did — because that’s where I learned to be mindful of the amount of “eagerness” with which I grabbed, twisted, turned, etc everyday objects. (A side-effect of repressed anger because I lived with a narcissistic, fake-motherly control freak). It was “fun” experiencing gaslighting and being on the receiving end of a lot of psychologists’ lack of empathy whenever I hinted at my need to externalise my anger safely, because we live in a patriarchal society where women aren’t allowed to feel or express anger, and it’s considered invalid as an emotion and 100% bad (although, in truth, nothing in the universe is 100% bad, but NEVERMIND).
So, yay to my lived experience of injustice because of my upbringing, and doubled down by the people who SHOULD be trying to help me heal because of mysoginy. (And I’m pretty sure there are people who will read this article and still not empathise, because how dare I feel frustrated with the mental health industry? Oh, no, frustration is so unladylike. So barbaric. So not “calm, collected, and civilised” of me).
*Sigh*
If you think the above is off-topic, think again. I just pulled up one example from my repertoire, in order to show you in practice how the “hidden side of Wu Wei” works:
Wu Wei is also about acceptance of your situation, regardless of how ugly (or “unladylike”, as I put it) it may look.
It’s not just going with the flow of nature. Sure that’s great, but that’s only scratching the surface of what Wu Wei truly means. The hidden, more difficult side of Wu Wei is actually about not fighting against yourself.
That’s what acceptance means. It’s not the same as giving up (on self-improvement). Instead, it’s about acknowledging that your body has a wisdom of its own, and it’s not “shameful” to have difficulty with this or that skill or even to adapt the learning of this or that skill to the limitations you might be going through in the present moment.
After all, if you DON’T accept your moment, how do you hope to move past it? If you DON’T look into why you can do what you do or you can’t do what you don’t do… How will you ever learn anything?
The ironic thing is, there are self-proclaimed teachers and philosophers out there who say they teach Wu Wei… And in the same breath, behave like control freaks at the first sign of a “dissident” student.
Again, this happened to me. “Teacher, I find it hard to meditate without closing my eyes and I suspect it’s because of this and that reason”. His response, instead of trusting (remember trusting? This magic word associating with Wu Wei? Yeah? Well, it also applies to trusting that the person you’re teaching is telling you the truth and not messing with you, FYI), dismissed my concerns as if I was just acting like a rebellious teenager (instead of, ya know, telling the truth when I said I had a DIFFICULTY and not an UNWILLINGNESS).
Well. Time went by. The difficulty persisted. I eventually moved on from that inflexible teacher who never listened to me.
One day, I found out I have a rare genetic condition that means my eyes are incapable of “resting” unless they’re shut — which is why half of my family has a history of midlife eyesight problems borne out of exhaustion.
Would it be hard to listen to my concerns in the first place, instead of implying that what I was describing in my meditation practice was impossible? (Just because it’s rare)?
Apparently, for a control freak (who ironically thinks he can teach Wu Wei, but gets annoyed whenever anyone strays from the beaten track just a tiny bit because that means they’re no longer following every detail of his inflexible one-size-fits-all step-by-step guide), it would.
Call me resentful. It will take a while for the dust to settle on that one. To think I almost made my eye problem worse because my teacher wouldn’t believe me… Makes me angry. Anyone would feel angry at that.
But more importantly than any personal grievances I might have against the close-minded people in-need-of-Wu-Wei I sometimes cross paths with… The example above goes to show Wu Wei is also a paradox.
Sometimes, Wu Wei is about accepting that you “can’t Wu Wei”. Be it because of a neurodiversity, illness, condition, atrophy, or whatever.
And that’s okay.
We will always be better at it in specific contexts, and struggle in other ones. Wu Wei discourages beating yourself up.
Eventually, who knows, we can learn to forget and forgive certain things — just like the ever-flowing passing of time reminds us that nothing is fixed or permanent — but it’s still important not to force this important development to happen before its due time.
You are, yourself, after all, part of this Nature which you should trust more and control less.
Your pain is valid. It will pass, but it’s valid while it’s acute. Never let anyone gaslight you out of the acknowledgement with “shoulds” and “woulds”.
Amitabha. 🙏
