Tao Te Ching – Chapter Sixty–Four
Written by Lao-tzu – From a translation by S. Mitchell
What is rooted is easy to nourish.
What is recent is easy to correct.
What is brittle is easy to break.
What is small is easy to scatter.
Prevent trouble before it arises.
Put things in order before they exist.
The giant pine tree,
grows from a tiny sprout.
The journey of a thousand miles,
starts from beneath your feet.
Rushing into action, you fail.
Trying to grasp things, you lose them.
Forcing a project to completion,
you ruin what was almost ripe.
Therefore the Master takes action,
by letting things take their course.
He remains as calm,
at the end as at the beginning.
He has nothing,
thus has nothing to lose.
What he desires is non-desire;
what he learns is to unlearn.
He simply reminds people,
of who they have always been.
He cares about nothing but the Tao.
Thus he can care for all things.
How I Read This Chapter
The Way is slow and steady.
It teaches patience,
attention,
trust.
The biggest things
begin small.
What grows must be allowed to grow.
What heals must be allowed to breathe.
Control ruins what could’ve ripened.
Grasping shatters what could’ve lasted.
The Master lets things unfold,
with quiet hands,
and an open heart.
What This Means To Me
This chapter speaks straight to my gardener’s soul. “The giant pine tree grows from a tiny sprout.” There’s something about that line that brings me right back to the soil. I think of the seeds I’ve planted over the years – in gardens, in greenhouses, in pots balanced on windowsills. No matter how badly I want them to grow faster, stronger, taller – I can’t force it. Nature doesn’t work that way. Neither does recovery. Neither does life.
All I can do is be present and care. Prepare the ground. Water gently. Let the sun do its work. Trust that what is meant to grow, will grow – in its own time.
It’s the same with the seeds I’ve sown in my own heart since getting sober. The new habits, the shifts in thinking, the letting go, the self-forgiveness. None of that happened overnight. And whenever I tried to rush it, I usually ended up making a mess. Like the line says, “Forcing a project to completion, you ruin what was almost ripe.” God, I’ve done that too many times to count. Rushed into decisions, relationships, recovery goals – only to feel them fall apart because I couldn’t wait, couldn’t trust, couldn’t let go of the outcome.
But like a patient gardener, I’ve learned to take my hands off the process. To stop digging up the roots to check how they’re doing. To let things unfold, and to love the waiting.
“What is rooted is easy to nourish.” That reminds me of how much easier my life has become now that I’m rooted in something – my recovery, my spiritual practice, my sense of connection to the Tao. With deep roots, I don’t get blown over so easily. I don’t need to scramble. I can meet the moment, and tend to it.
And this line, “The journey of a thousand miles starts from beneath your feet.” It’s so simple, yet it carries so much truth. I don’t need to know how everything will turn out. I just need to take the step that’s in front of me. Whether it’s an uncomfortable conversation, a job task I’ve been avoiding, or just washing the dishes – I do the next right thing. That’s it. No grand plan. No future-tripping. Just presence.
“He remains as calm at the end as at the beginning.” This is the kind of peace I’ve found since working the Steps. I used to panic about endings, obsess over beginnings, and get lost in the middle. But now, I just try to show up the same way in every phase – with care, with openness, and with trust that the Tao has its own rhythm.
And finally, “He simply reminds people of who they have always been.” That’s what recovery does. It doesn’t make me into someone else – it brings me back to myself. The version of me I buried under fear, shame, alcohol, and perfectionism. The one who knows how to nurture, how to trust, how to be.
Today, I still sow seeds. In gardens. In relationships. In my own heart. And I don’t rush them anymore. I tend. I wait. I trust. And in that quiet care, something beautiful grows.
