I have been fascinated with *Daoism for years, going so far as to study Mandarin and spend seven months in China. Although I’m not an expert on it, over the course of my writing life, I have often turned to Daoism for guidance and support. I want to share how some of the tenets of Daoism have helped me as a writer, and I’ll be doing that over my next few posts.
Today, I start with an essential Daoist notion:
Economy of Action
In nature, nothing is wasted. Even when nature seems messy and chaotic, it is amazingly efficient and well-organized. Daoist thinking emphasizes the importance of living in accordance with natural principles. Economy of action means living the way nature functions, neither wasting nor hoarding, using everything as it was meant to be used, and going with the natural flow of things.
Excess, hoarding, and squandering are anathema to Daoism, as they are in nature. The natural world puts everything to use. Plant and animal waste feeds the soil and air. Death gives rise to new life. Every thing in the natural world is reused and recycled.
Everything in nature has a place. Fires renew forests. Natural flooding refreshes wetlands and floodplains. Each organism has a niche—which is why the extinction of one species can have horrible consequences for an entire ecosystem. Daoism emphasizes the right use of resources—keeping everything in its natural place to play its role.
According to Daoist thought, if we move with the natural movement of things, our lives and our work will be easy, smooth, and spontaneous. When you swim with the current, sail with the wind, or take a natural pathway through the woods, you reach your destination easily and with little effort. If you try to swim against the current, sail into the wind, or carve out a human-made path, you expend enormous amounts of effort and achieve less.
Humanity follows the earth.
Earth follows nature.
Nature follows tao.
Tao follows what is so.
(The Daode Jing, translated by Chad Hansen)
Let’s think about how these tenets apply to writing.
Wasting and excess: Few things are more devastating to good writing than these. To write well, we need to be spare, putting every word to good use. Straightforward language is the strongest; simple prose the most elegant. This doesn’t mean we can’t be ornate or extravagant at times—but only when our topic and style calls for it—which leads to the next point.
Everything in its place, playing its role. Writing well means learning to consider what a specific piece of writing needs. Every technique has a particular role to play. Using a technique properly means using it in its proper place and allowing it to play its proper role.
We might want to keep a bit of dialogue, a rich description, or an interesting detail simply because we’re proud of it, but if our story doesn’t need it, we need to take it out. We might yearn to be reflective or bold, poetic or journalistic, strident or sweet, but we must be what the work requires of us. The question shouldn’t be, “Do I like this passage or scene?” but “Is this the right place for it? Is it playing the role it should be playing here?”
Going with the natural flow of things. One of the greatest lessons of my writing life has been learning to let my writing lead me. Writing has its own energy. When I allow it to create its own course, it finds its way with ease, following the path of least resistance. When I take control—or try to—my writing becomes artificial and stilted.
These Daoist principles have proven invaluable to my writing—and my life. When I find myself floundering, it is often because I have lost sight of them. When I return to them, as I do again and again, my writing is always strengthened and renewed.
Try this. Envision your writing as a stream. Imagine yourself as a piece of wood floating on the surface. Pick a starting point, then let your writing carry you where it will. The piece of wood doesn’t control the stream. It goes with the flow. Try it and share what happens here.
NOTES: Daoism is a Chinese philosophical, religious, and ethical system that has developed for more than 2,500 years. Profoundly complex and influential, it is intertwined with Chinese alchemy, astrology, and feng shui. It served as the basis for Zen Buddhism, and it is tied to Chinese traditional medicine and martial arts. Its founding text, the Daode Jing is widely read throughout the world.
Daoism is often spelled taoism in English. The spelling I’m using here employs China’s official pinyin romanization and is closer to the Mandarin pronunciation.
I didn’t realize that the English pronunciation was different phonically to the Chinese one. I adhere to the philosophy although I often find it hard to live by here in the U.S.. Even as much of the Asian culture my husband knows from living over there, he clings to the Euro-American ways.
I’ll try this technique. I don’t feel that I’m having difficulties in my writing right now but why not try for even better than what I have.