Tao Te Ching – Chapter Twenty
Written by Lao-tzu – From a translation by S. Mitchell
Stop thinking, and end your problems.
What difference between yes and no?
What difference between success and failure?
Must you value what others value,
avoid what others avoid?
How ridiculous!
Other people are excited,
as though they were at a parade.
I alone don’t care,
I alone am expressionless,
like an infant before it can smile.
Other people have what they need;
I alone possess nothing.
I alone drift about,
like someone without a home.
I am like an idiot, my mind is so empty.
Other people are bright;
I alone am dark.
Other people are sharp;
I alone am dull.
Other people have a purpose;
I alone don’t know.
I drift like a wave on the ocean,
I blow as aimless as the wind.
I am different from ordinary people.
I drink from the Great Mother’s breasts.
How I Read This Chapter
Let go of needing to be right,
and you’ll know peace.
Let go of comparing yourself,
and you’ll remember who you are.
What if success and failure,
were just shadows of the same illusion?
Let others chase, prove, declare.
I choose stillness.
I choose simplicity.
I choose not to know.
Like a child not yet burdened by ego,
I return to the mystery.
I drift,
not because I’m lost,
but because I’ve stopped pretending to be found.
This is not ignorance.
This is trust.
I am nourished,
by something deeper,
than understanding.
What This Means To Me
This chapter speaks to a part of my recovery I don’t often talk about—the feeling of being different, out of step, even strange. In addiction, I tried so hard to belong. I copied others, chased approval, and conformed to ideas of what “success” and “normal” should look like. But I always felt like an outsider pretending to be an insider. Recovery didn’t just strip away the alcohol—it stripped away the performance. And with it came a strange, sacred freedom.
“Stop thinking, and end your problems.” This doesn’t mean becoming careless or ignorant. It means learning to step back from the overthinking, the constant grasping, the mental noise that once ruled my life. In early sobriety, my mind was relentless—anxious, judgmental, afraid. But through the Steps, through spiritual practice, I’ve learned that serenity comes not from solving every problem, but from stepping outside the loop of obsessive thought. I don’t need to have all the answers. I don’t even need to understand the questions. I just need to stay connected.
“What difference between success and failure?” That line disarms me. In my drinking days, I was obsessed with outcomes—how I looked, how I measured up. Even in recovery, I sometimes fall into the trap of judging myself by how well I’m doing compared to others. But this verse reminds me: true peace doesn’t come from winning—it comes from letting go of the whole game.
There are days when everyone else seems to be at a parade—laughing, striving, achieving—while I feel quiet, slow, unsure. But I’m learning to see that not as a weakness, but as a gift. The Tao describes a kind of sacred foolishness: “I am like an idiot, my mind is so empty.” That sounds strange, but I get it. In the emptiness, I find space for grace. When I let go of needing to “know,” I discover a deeper kind of knowing.
“I drift like a wave on the ocean… I blow as aimless as the wind.” That used to terrify me. I wanted certainty, plans, control. But now, I see the wisdom in letting go of fixed identity, of fixed direction. In recovery, I don’t always know what’s coming next. But I trust the current. I trust the wind. I trust the Great Mother, whatever name I give that presence. She has carried me this far. She will carry me still.
So today, I let go of needing to understand. I let go of comparing. I let others rush by. I drift—not in despair, but in quiet trust. I don’t need to chase a destination. I don’t need to prove my worth. I am nourished from within.
I am different from ordinary people – whatever ordinary is?
And that’s okay.
