Tao Te Ching – Chapter Seventy-Two
Written by Lao-tzu – From a translation by S. Mitchell
When they lose their sense of awe,
people turn to religion.
When they no longer trust themselves,
they begin to depend upon authority.
Therefore the Master steps back,
so that people won't be confused.
He teaches without a teaching,
so that people will have nothing to learn.
How I Read This Chapter
When we forget the wonder of being alive,
we reach for distractions,
escapes,
and false idols to replace it.
When we no longer trust the voice within,
we give power to voices outside us.
The Master doesn’t impose.
They do not dictate.
They step back,
so others can step forward.
Their teaching is not in words,
but in presence.
Not in answers,
but in space.
They know,
that the truth we need,
is already within us.
What This Means To Me
Addiction robbed me of awe.
There was a time, long before the drinking took over, when life still shimmered – when a tree in the wind or a child’s laugh or a moment of silence could move me. But as the years passed, that sense of wonder was slowly drowned in noise, in craving, in control. Awe was replaced by fear. Trust was replaced by certainty. I lost touch with the quiet knowing inside, and so I clung harder to anything that looked like authority – even if it was destroying me.
This chapter speaks to that turning point in the soul – when we no longer feel connected, and instead seek rules and rituals to give us the illusion of safety. In early recovery, I wanted a manual. A fixed plan. Someone to tell me exactly what to do. I didn’t yet trust my own voice, because that voice had led me into chaos.
But the most healing people in my recovery weren’t the ones who gave me answers. They were the ones who gave me space. The sponsor who didn’t rush to advise, but just listened. The old-timer who sat quietly beside me, asking gentle questions. The ones who knew that the wisdom I needed wasn’t something they could teach – it was something I already had inside me, buried beneath years of noise and shame.
“The Master steps back so that people won’t be confused.” That line reminds me that true guidance is not about standing above, but walking beside. I’ve come to see that the role of a sponsor, a friend, even a Higher Power, is not to control – but to create room for me to rediscover the voice within.
For years, I let alcohol be my authority. Then, in early recovery, I almost replaced it with another kind of rigidity – rules, dogma, perfectionism. But the Tao gently calls me back to something softer. Something wiser. It reminds me that awe – the quiet reverence for being alive, for breathing, for being sober today – is far more sustaining than any ideology.
Today, I don’t need to have all the answers. I don’t need to preach or be right. When I’m sharing in a meeting, I try to speak from experience, not instruction. When someone asks for help, I try not to fix them – but to trust them. Because the moment I let go of trying to be the expert, something sacred begins to move.
I don’t need to lead loudly. I just need to live honestly. The Tao teaches without a teaching. Recovery does too. And when I stop trying to know everything, I make space for awe to return.
That awe – humble, spacious, unforced – is what helps to keep me sober.
