Tao Te Ching – Chapter Sixty–Seven
Written by Lao-tzu – From a translation by S. Mitchell
Some say that my teaching is nonsense.
Others call it lofty but impractical.
But to those who have looked inside themselves,
this nonsense makes perfect sense.
And to those who put it into practice,
this loftiness has roots that go deep.
I have just three things to teach:
simplicity, patience, compassion.
These three are your greatest treasures.
Simple in actions and in thoughts,
you return to the source of being.
Patient with both friends and enemies,
you accord with the way things are.
Compassionate toward yourself,
you reconcile all beings in the world.
How I Read This Chapter
The Way isn’t flashy.
It’s not built on cleverness or perfection.
It grows quietly,
in those who are willing to practice.
Its treasures are not hidden,
they’re just often overlooked:
Simplicity. Patience. Compassion.
They’re not easy.
But they are enough.
What This Means To Me
When I first came into recovery, some of it sounded like nonsense to me.
“Keep it simple.”
“One day at a time.”
“Let go and let God.”
These phrases felt like fortune cookie wisdom – lightweight compared to the mountain of problems I was carrying. But as I began to look inside myself – honestly, humbly – I realised something: it wasn’t the sayings that were empty. It was me. I’d been looking for complicated answers to avoid simple truths. And once I started to live them – those “nonsense” phrases became lifelines.
This chapter holds the same quiet magic. It names the three things that recovery and the Tao have both taught me to treasure above all else:
Simplicity
This changed my life. I used to overcomplicate everything – my thoughts, my plans, my relationships, my sense of self. The drama, the striving, the fear of missing out. Alcohol fed that chaos, but it wasn’t the source of it. The real issue was that I had no centre. No foundation.
Now, I try to live simply. I wake up, pray, meditate, do the next right thing. I don’t need to have the answers. I don’t need to impress anyone. A clean kitchen, a clear head, a phone call to a friend, a spot of gardening, and a bit of writing – that’s a good day.
Simplicity brings me back to what matters.
Patience
With others. With myself. With life. This one’s still a daily practice. In the past, I wanted change now. Healing now. Peace now. But the Tao and the Steps both taught me that spiritual growth doesn’t work like that. It unfolds slowly, in layers. And when I try to rush it, I just suffer more. Being patient doesn’t mean doing nothing – it means doing what’s needed, and then letting go of the outcome. That’s been huge for me. Especially in relationships, in work, and in moments of discomfort. The world doesn’t move on my timeline – and that’s OK.
Compassion
Especially toward myself. That’s the big one. Because for years I lived with a brutal inner critic. I thought shame would keep me in line. I thought guilt was the price I had to pay for my past. But compassion has done more to heal me than punishment ever could.
When I learned to forgive myself – not excuse, but forgive – I started to live with more grace. I became less reactive, less afraid, more willing to show up. And funny enough, the more compassion I show myself, the more I can offer others – without resentment or ego.
This chapter reminds me that I don’t need to know everything, or be perfect, or have a big purpose. I just need to live these three treasures. In my actions. In my thinking. In the way I treat the person in front of me – whether that’s a friend, a stranger, or the face I see in the mirror.
“Compassionate toward yourself, you reconcile all beings in the world.” I used to think changing the world meant doing something big. Now I see it starts with how I live. How I love. How I show up. And when I forget that, the Tao gently reminds me: Return to simplicity (Keep it simple). Be patient (One day at a time). And don’t forget to be kind – to you – and Let go, and Let God.
