How to Wu-Wei

Lessons in non-doing, straight from the body

Eyes-stinging, lungs huffing, mouth puffing, I’m breathless. Will I make it to my goal distance? Can I stop? Is my right arm pulling me more than my left? Is that chlorine in my nostrils or water in my brain? Like clockwork, I’m always at the three-quarter mark in my swim when my mind starts spiralling my lungs out of shape.

I’m working on my swimming. I want to be able to swim a kilometre at one go.

Earlier that day, packing my swim bag, I’d asked myself “what if this were easy?” I was taking Tim Ferris’ advice not to make things harder than they are. I didn’t get far evidently. I was flailing and overthinking once again, mid-swim. On the list of Top 10 Ways to Bomb Your Sport, this one was right after ‘sipping beer to hydrate on runs’.

Swimming feels hard.

After rescuing my passed out brother from the bottom of a baby pool, and later, losing a friend to the deep-end of a grownup pool, I’m a little scared. 

But the water calls me and it calms me. And I go back again till the fear catches up.

That day, I accidentally found my way out.

I’d stopped thinking for a minute - about form, and distance and pace. I’d let myself get distracted by the sparkling floor of the pool.

A mermaid shadow moved with me. Her edges danced in the sunlight glinting off the pool floor. The only music was the soft gurgles of morphed sounds from the world making their way underwater. She glided forward with grace, like the water was pulling her along. 

Enchanted, I kept going. And going and going… until my watch buzzed me out of my reverie. 

I was no longer choking up on my thoughts, and I was not even a little breathless. It felt like I was being breathed by the water instead.

And I’d done it! I’d finished my laps!

“not a soul can bust this team in two!”

Me (and my shadow) had accidentally worked Tim’s hack. It had felt easy - effortless even.

“What if this were easy?” had been a tough question for me. Should I scale down my goals, and work on just a half kilometre at a time? Should I simplify my plan, and just focus on breathing, not on distance? Should I break the goal down into atomic habits for swimming as meditation? Doesn’t ‘practice make perfect’? Am I being lazy?

When I racked my mind for ways to take it easy, my body was never at ease.

Turns out my mind couldn’t take it easy unless the body felt at ease.

In my mermaid show moment, I’d stopped thinking about swimming and started feeling myself in the water. Sharp cold. Stinging eyes. Sunny glimmers. Soft gurgling. A shadow mermaid.

I’d let my body go. I’d let the water carry me.

On other days, I’ve tried other ways. From the clench and squeeze (tighten every muscle you believe you have and then let go, all at once) to the shoulder drop (lift your shoulders, roll them back, and drop them down and let gravity carry you) and everything in between. I always pause and wait to see for any sensations in response. The tingles, the release, and then sure enough, the weightlessness.

Relaxing body-first unlocks wu-wei. The Chinese state of flow described as non-doing.

The School of Life explains this concept from Chinese philosophy and highlights its paradox.

According to the central text of Daoism, the Dao De Jing: ‘The Way never acts yet nothing is left undone’. This is the paradox of wu wei. It doesn’t mean not acting, it means ‘effortless action’ or ‘actionless action’.

But it doesn’t feel paradoxical when you wu-wei body-first.

Wu-wei is a ‘cognitive and behavioural serenity.’ Not a battle of mind and body.

It is flowing with the Dao or ‘the Way’ of the natural world. Not imposing our will to dominate nature.

It is letting gravity hold you. Or letting water carry you. Or letting sunshine move you.

And letting your self go.

In the company of a sunlit mermaid shadow gliding along beside you.

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Thanks in heaps to Nancy for chatting with me about this idea, and to Nic, Eric, Ved, and Ishan for the feedback on earlier drafts.