Releasing Control

This week we discover the power within when we let go, embrace our wholeness, and clear up lifetime illusions. Finally review the 'The Power of Three'.

"In releasing the need to shape the world around us, we rediscover the quiet power within. As we loosen our grip on how life ‘should’ be, we open our spirit to how beautifully it already is, flowing with truth, aligned in peace, and rooted in the wisdom of the Tao."

Have you ever noticed how much energy we spend trying to hold life in place, as if it were a delicate ornament we must protect from every bump and fall? We craft mental pictures of how our families should behave, how our relationships should unfold, and what success should look like. We tell ourselves that if only we could make others see our point of view, if only circumstances lined up in a perfect row, then we would finally know peace. Yet, beneath this careful arrangement lies an uncomfortable truth: life rarely matches the image we carry in our minds. And the tighter we cling, the more brittle both we and that image become.

In this journal post, ‘Releasing Control’, we will explore why letting go seems so threatening to our Inner Child, why control is an exhausting and ultimately unwinnable strategy, and how Taoist wisdom, particularly the art of wu wei, can guide us from stubborn resistance to the freedom of alignment. We will walk through some of the illusions our Inner Child holds, examine the grief that comes with releasing them, and learn to replace dependency on others’ actions with the self-responsibility that nourishes peace.

Our Inner Child’s Contract with Happiness

Our Inner Child writes its terms for happiness early in life. It insists, “If my family is harmonious, I will be safe,” or “If others see my worth, I can rest.” These are not random thoughts; they are survival strategies formed at a time when we were small and reliant on others for our care. The problem is, these terms do not mature with us. They remain fixed, expecting the adult world to meet the conditions of a child’s bargain.

This can create a lifetime of disappointment because these contracts depend on factors beyond our control, other people’s choices, beliefs, and willingness to change. Taoist wisdom reminds us that balance cannot be granted from the outside. As Verse 59 of the Tao Te Ching offers, “When rooted deeply, the foundation is firm. When aligned with the Tao, nothing is lost. Everything returns to balance.” This foundation does not come from the perfect behaviour of others but from the stability we cultivate within.

When our Inner Child refuses to update its contract, we find ourselves constantly rearranging life’s furniture, moving people into roles they never agreed to play. We rehearse conversations, adjust our behaviour, and make sacrifices, not as acts of free choice, but in the hope of finally earning the conditions for happiness. The irony is that the more we chase this picture, the less absolute joy we experience.

The Futility of Control

Control appears to promise safety. It suggests that by working hard enough to manage others’ thoughts, decisions, or reactions, we can prevent discomfort and achieve the desired outcome. But this promise is a false one. Control demands that we trespass on the one space where we have no authority: another person’s will.

When we try to manage someone else’s choices, we spend our energy fighting reality. Often, what fuels this control is not confidence but fear, fear of uncertainty, of rejection, or of the unknown and uncertain space that may open up if we stop managing others. Yet Taoist teaching shows us that this space is not a void to dread, but a fertile emptiness where life can move in ways we could never have engineered.

Verse 1 of the Tao Te Ching tells us, “The Tao opens and closes like a pair of bellows, receiving and letting go but never holding on.” When we release control, we are not abandoning responsibility; we are creating space for the natural movement of life. In this space, possibilities return, and what once seemed fixed begins to flow again.

The Bereavement of an Illusion

Letting go of a cherished picture, a perfect family, a flawless career, or a dream relationship can evoke deep feelings of grief, which are genuine. However, we must remember that we have created them. It may seem as though we are losing hope of our greatest dream and idea of perfection. Our Inner Child often confuses this act of letting go with giving up, not recognising that what is leaving is not reality but an illusion.

It is natural to grieve the passing of something that once gave us identity or direction. The key is to honour this grief without letting it dictate our future. In Taoist practice, we acknowledge our Inner Child’s longing for safety and belonging, but we also guide it toward truth: happiness is not bound to a single image. It has always been, and continues to be, available in our current lives, because we create it.

While we honour our Inner Child’s emotion of grief, we must also engage in what we call the ‘Golden Thread Process’, an inner inquiry where we compassionately trace the grief back to the belief that gave rise to it. Without this insight, acceptance remains superficial. Imagine trying to calm a child after a nightmare without explaining that the monster was never real; we soothe, but we do not liberate.

Our Inner Child’s mourning often reflects not the loss of a truth, but the collapse of an illusion, a fantasy of permanence or control, a belief that love, validation, or security were only available through that now-lost form. To hold space for that grief is essential, yet to stop there is to leave our Inner Child in the dark. True healing occurs when we gently shine a light on the belief beneath the sorrow and ask: “Is this belief aligned with our Shen, our eternal spiritual essence, or is it a relic of a time when we misunderstood what we truly needed?”

Accepting that a dream or illusion is false can be one of the most profound and painful awakenings our Inner Child ever faces. And it cannot do this alone. We must hold its hand, not as rescuers, but as compassionate guides who help it see that safety is not found in old narratives but in present truth. This is the delicate art of wu wei, where we neither push our ‘little one’ forward nor allow it to freeze in fear. Instead, we walk beside it, gently, steadily, inviting it to consider a new truth.

To help clarify, imagine a young bird reluctant to leave the nest, convinced that flight means danger. The nest was safe. But we know that the nest is not where it was meant to stay. We do not throw the bird into the sky; instead, we model trust, whisper encouragement, and stay close. In time, the bird learns what it has always been capable of. In this same way, we do not rip away our Inner Child’s illusions; we help it see that they were never the source of its spirit, only years of armour around its truth.

Letting go of illusions is not a loss; it is liberation. And when we help our Inner Child take this step, we do not just relieve its pain; we invite it to live in alignment with the Tao, where peace is not conditional and joy is not fragile. The Tao does not cling, nor does it mourn what was never meant to last. It flows. And in helping our Inner Child understand that illusions are not betrayals but old stories whose time has passed, we teach it the sacred art of flow.

When we release the illusion, we open ourselves to new purposes. We begin to live from self-responsibility rather than self-sacrifice, from compassion rather than control. The energy once spent on managing others becomes available for building our peace and reinforcing our authenticity.

Self-Responsibility and the Return to Alignment

The turning point is realising that our emotions are not caused by other people’s actions but by our interpretations and beliefs. This recognition dismantles our Inner Child’s claim that others must change for us to be happy. It hands back the authorship of our emotional life.

Self-responsibility is not the cold withdrawal from connection; it is the freedom to love without conditions, to be compassionate without using kindness as leverage. The I Ching reminds us that harmony comes not from forcing balance but from moving in rhythm with life’s natural flow.

When we take responsibility for our happiness, we stop outsourcing our peace to someone else’s agreement. We stop measuring our worth against their reactions. Instead, we act from our Shen, the eternal, untouchable essence of who we are, knowing that it cannot be diminished or inflated by another’s opinion.

Practising Wu Wei with our Inner Child

Wu wei, the Taoist principle of effortless effort, offers a practical way to guide our Inner Child without letting its fears lead us. Our Inner Child may badger, “If I stop trying to fix this, everything will fall apart.” In wu wei, we answer, “I hear you, but notice the peace that enters when we stop fighting reality.”

Instead of managing others, we turn our attention inward and ask, “What am I truly seeking here? Is it love, safety, or belonging? How can I offer that to myself in this moment?” These questions shift us from the endless ‘Carousel of Despair’ to the steady ground of self-trust.

Wu wei does not mean doing nothing; it means acting in harmony with the situation as it is, not as we wish it to be. With our Inner Child, this means listening without letting its fears set our course, responding with ‘The Power of Three’ truth, honesty, and integrity, and holding to the deep knowing that our peace does not depend on control.

Living in the Flow of Releasing Control

When we release control, we are not becoming passive. We still speak truth, act when necessary, and set clear boundaries. The difference is that we no longer tie our peace to whether others respond as we hoped.

The paradox of the Tao is that when we stop forcing, more becomes possible. When we stop clinging, what we most value often arrives, not because we pushed, but because we created space for it to enter. In relationships, this means meeting others as they are, not as our Inner Child insists they should be. It means compassion without rescuing, connection without manipulation. And in the space once filled with struggle, trust begins to grow.

Choosing the Flow

The journey of ‘Releasing Control’ is not a single leap but a series of small, consistent steps. Each time we notice the urge to manage another’s choices and instead turn inward to meet our own needs, we strengthen our alignment. Each time we challenge our Inner Child’s outdated contract and replace it with self-responsibility, we loosen the grip of illusion.

Happiness is not the emotional reward for perfect conditions; it is a birthright we can express in the present moment. By shifting from control to alignment, we reconnect with the flow of the Tao, where life is not something to be held still but a living current to join.

Let us remind ourselves: “I move with the wisdom of ‘The Power of Three’: truth, honesty, and integrity, trusting in my innate worth and allowing the appropriate emotions to arise as I align with the natural flow of life.” This is the quiet power of ‘Releasing Control’. It is the decision to stop measuring our peace by another’s behaviour, to live without CCJ, and to take small, steady steps that honour both our Shen and our reality. In doing so, we make room for life, in all its unplanned beauty, to meet us here and now.

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Have you ever stayed in a place, physical or emotional, that you could have left long ago, quietly telling yourself that to stay was noble? Have you convinced yourself that creating someone else’s happiness was not only a duty but perhaps your highest purpose? And have you noticed that the idea of walking away from what constricts you can seem far more dangerous than enduring the constriction itself?

In ‘Already Whole’, we step into the quiet spaces where invisible threads bind us to roles and expectations we never consciously agreed to carry. They begin in childhood: a glance that stings more than words, a silence that presses heavier than criticism, a bargain made without language, “If I keep you happy, perhaps you will love me”. Over time, these threads weave themselves into our self-image. We mistake them for identity.

Yet the Tao whispers a truth that can be both liberating and unsettling: what was never truly ours can be set down without loss. This is not simply a story of breaking away from another’s influence. It is about recognising how the mind recycles old survival strategies into illusions of duty, how our Inner Child still clings to the idea that love must be earned, and how we can guide that part of us toward the reality that we are, and always have been, already whole.

The Prison of Emotional Logic

This “prison” is not built of stone or steel but of beliefs and the intense emotions they generate. There are no guards, no locks, and the door stands wide open. Yet the thought of stepping outside can seem unbearable. Our Inner Child insists: “If you leave, they will be hurt. And then it will be your fault.” This is the reasoning of emotional logic, decisions shaped not by truth, but by the emotions we once created for safety, love and validation.

This is most evident in our relationship with our parents. From a young age, we can begin to believe that their happiness, or even their sense of peace, depends entirely on us. We learn, often without a word spoken, that if they are content, the love and affection we long for will flow more freely toward us. If they are unsettled, that flow may stop. To a child, this can seem like an unbreakable law of life: “Keep them happy, and you will be safe and loved.”

But this belief, while understandable, is an illusion. In reality, their emotions, like ours, are shaped by their own beliefs and life experiences. We are not the cause, nor can we be the cure, for another person’s unrest. Taoist wisdom teaches that “The Sage does not drink another’s water, nor seek to fill another’s cup; each draws from their well, and so the spring never runs dry.” (Tao Te Ching, Verse 72) When we try to be the spring for our parents, we take on a role that was never ours to bear, and in doing so, we bind ourselves to an endless and unwinnable task.

The counterargument from our Inner Child will be fierce. It may pester us with anxious questions: “If I stop trying to keep them happy, won’t they stop loving me? Won’t I be abandoned?” Beneath these questions lies a misunderstanding that has been with us since childhood: the belief that love is something another person can give or take away, like a possession.

Love is not a thing we can hold in our hands. It is not like a gift that someone can drop into our hearts. Love is an emotional experience, and every emotion we have is something we create within ourselves. No one else can put an emotion inside us, just as we cannot place our emotions inside someone else.

Other people can show care, kindness, or affection through what they say and do. These expressions are signs of the emotions they have created within themselves. But those emotions cannot be transferred to us. What we experience as love is our emotional response, shaped by how we interpret their words and actions through our beliefs.

This is why love is never something we “receive” from another person as if it were a possession. We are the creators of our love, just as they are the creators of theirs. When we truly see this, we no longer sit in expectation, waiting for someone else to make us “feel” loved. Instead, we choose to create that love within ourselves, freely, without conditions, and without needing permission or proof from anyone. In doing so, we discover that love is not something we chase; it is something we cultivate, and it has been available to us all along.

This is where our Inner Child becomes confused. In childhood, we might have believed that if someone withheld affection, they had somehow taken away our love. In truth, what was missing was the internal permission to cultivate self-love. Believing that another person is the source of our love keeps us in a state of craving and neediness, always hoping they will act in a way that ‘fills’ us.

The Tao reminds us that what is given freely, without condition, is the only thing that truly nourishes. When we understand that love is an experience we create, we are no longer at the mercy of another’s approval, mood, or behaviour. Stepping outside this prison does not mean we stop caring for our partners and parents. It means we release the illusion that their peace and pleasure are our duty, and their approval and validation are our worth. In doing so, we discover that the well of love within us has always been there, waiting for us to draw from it.

Sometimes, our Inner Child also believes they are owed. They endured the unfairness, carried the extra weight, and so they think that letting go is like forfeiting the only possible recompense. It is as if they are clutching a sealed envelope, convinced that inside is the recognition they deserve, when, in reality, the envelope has always been empty.

From a Taoist view, this is like trying to trap the wind in a jar. We think we are preserving something precious, but we are only holding emptiness. And in holding it, we miss the breeze that could be moving through us, refreshing and unclaimed.

The Role We Never Chose

No child arrives in the world believing they must maintain their parents’ emotional balance. This is learned. The learning can be so subtle that there is never an explicit request, just a tightening of the air when they disappoint, or a soft glow of approval when we comply.

Over the years, this morphs into a role: the peacekeeper, the one who holds the family together, the silent bearer of another’s burdens. And because this role was intertwined with love, the idea of leaving it seems impossible. Even as adults, we guard it fiercely.

But as the Tao Te Ching reminds us, “That which is rooted deeply does not topple. That which is aligned with the Tao does not fade.” (Verse 59) This means our worth, being rooted in the Tao, cannot be given or taken away. When we see the truth of that, the thread binding us to false duty begins to fray.

The Counter-Argument of Hope

Hope is often praised as a virtue, yet hope tethered to illusion can be a shackle. In relationships marked by unmet needs, hope frequently takes the form: “If I wait long enough, they will become who I need them to be.”

Taoist wisdom counters that transformation is not something we can engineer in others. “Thunder rolls in the lake; transformation comes not from force, but from the readiness of the time.” (I Ching, Hexagram 17) Waiting for another to set us free is like sitting in a dry riverbed expecting rain on command.

Our Inner Child will protest this truth. They will badger us with fears: “Leaving proves we never cared”. They will reproach us with imagined duties: “Staying is the only way to honour the past.” Yet alignment is found in flowing with reality, not holding onto what has already passed downstream.

Integrity in Action

Declaring our truth is not the same as living it. We can call for freedom from inside the prison, yet remain within its walls. True integrity, the harmony of word and deed, means stepping forward, even when it unsettles the familiar.

Wu wei teaches that such steps are not taken through forcing but through alignment. Integrity does not mean severing all connections in coldness; it means letting relationships stand on the foundation of truth rather than performance. In this way, what remains is genuine, and what falls away was never ours to keep.

The I Ching in Hexagram 49 speaks to this: “When the time is ripe, the shedding is effortless. The new form emerges without strain, for it was always there beneath the surface.”

Freedom Over Obligation

When we finally recognise that another’s happiness is not our responsibility, we experience a quiet kind of liberation. No more scanning their moods for signs of distress, no more pre-emptive sacrifices of our own needs.

This is not selfishness; it is respect for the natural order. It trusts that others have the same capacity to walk their path that we do. Stepping away can be the most compassionate act, not abandonment, but an affirmation: “I believe you are capable of living your life as I must live mine.” The Tao does not demand repayment for light, nor does it keep score of the rain. Our worth is like this, unchanging, unmeasured, ‘Already Whole’.

Meeting our Inner Child in Reality

Our Inner Child may harangue us with imagined catastrophes: that we will be alone, that we will regret it, that we will lose everything. But these are shadows cast by earlier times, when dependency was absolute.

In reality, alignment brings more connection, not less, connection free of conditions and silent debts. By stepping into truth, we show our Inner Child that love is not a performance and that letting go of false obligations is not loss but restoration.

To live ‘Already Whole’ is to look closely at the roles we have carried and ask with honesty: “Does this truly belong to me?” If the answer is no, we lay it down, not in rebellion, but in trust that what is real will remain. Responsibility is a sacred gift, yet it must be held with discernment. When we are clear in our mind about what is truly ours to carry, we honour that responsibility with integrity. And when we see that something is not ours, we release it without guilt, knowing that clinging to the illusion of responsibility serves no one. There may still be echoes of protest, and the tug of old patterns may not disappear overnight. But with each small step toward alignment, those voices soften, replaced by the quiet certainty that life is not a test we must pass to earn love; it is a path we walk with clarity, carrying only what is ours to bear.

The Tao flows effortlessly, without permission, because that is its nature. And so do we, when we step beyond the bars, not in rebellion, but in harmony with who we truly are. Let us live not as performers of truth but as those who embody it. Let us choose integrity over comfort, alignment over illusion, and freedom over self-imposed duty. And when we do, may we see clearly what was true from the very beginning: we are, and always have been, ‘Already Whole’.

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When the Mirage Becomes the Map

Have you ever found yourself holding on to an image, a story, or a hope that, deep down, never truly existed? Perhaps it was the version of a relationship you wished had been real, the approval you believed would one day arrive, or the “perfect” life path you told yourself was meant for you. These illusions can be strangely comforting, yet they quietly weigh us down, directing our choices, clouding our clarity, and keeping our Inner Child in a state of constant waiting.

In Taoist and wu wei teachings, this holding on is a profound misalignment, not because we are weak or foolish, but because the human mind, especially in our early years, often confuses longing with reality. The Tao reminds us that truth and illusion cannot share the same space. To live authentically, we must make the sacred choice to release what never was.

In this exploration, we will uncover:

· Understanding why our Inner Child creates illusions about how things should be.

• Why our Inner Child clings so tightly to “what never was”

• How Taoist wisdom transforms this painful attachment into liberation

• Practical steps to trace illusions back to their roots and dissolve them with compassion

• The deeper spiritual freedom and alignment that comes when we stop Criticising, Comparing, and being Judgmental (CCJ) toward ourselves and others

Together, we will see that letting go is not about giving up; it is about finally stepping into the spacious clarity that was always ours to begin with.

The Nature of “What Never Was”

Illusions often begin as survival strategies. As children, many of us created “beautiful mirages” to shield ourselves from fear, confusion, or neglect. If reality seemed unsafe or unkind, our Inner Child might have written a script that promised eventual rescue or perfection: “One day they will change.” “If I’m good enough, I will be noticed.” “If I can make them happy, I will finally feel safe.”

In Taoist terms, these scripts are like rivers that have long since dried up, yet we keep returning to them with our empty buckets. They are not rooted in the flow of the Tao, but in the wishful thinking of outdated beliefs.

Our Inner Child clings to these old ways because, at one time, they seemed to offer hope in an environment where power felt absent. As adults, we can mistake this clinging for loyalty or faith, but in truth, it is often emotions like fear—fear of letting go, because if we do, what will remain? Yet there is another, subtler reason for this grasping: sometimes, our Inner Child has simply forgotten who they truly are.

They have spent so long identifying with the illusion, the false safety of outdated beliefs and the familiar patterns of thought, that they see their very identity in them. To our Inner Child, letting go does not just mean losing a coping mechanism; it could mean losing themselves.

This is the tragedy of living in the illusion: a life built not on the solid ground of truth but on shifting sands, where emotional storms are mistaken for reality. Our Inner Child believes that without the old story, there will be nothing left, but this is like a bird who refuses to leave its cage, not realising the cage door has been open all along. They have confused the prison for home, and the confinement for safety.

Wu wei teaches us that authentic safety is never found in holding tighter to what no longer serves us, but in relaxing into the effortless effort of living in alignment with our Shen, the unchanging essence of who we are. When we return to that truth, we see that our emotional pain, our past, or our protective illusions do not define us. We are, and always have been, more than the beliefs we created in childhood.

The counter-argument of our Inner Child will always be persuasive; it will whisper that these old patterns are the only thing standing between us and harm. But if we examine this through the ‘Golden Thread Process’, we see the flaw in the emotional logic: if the old ways truly kept us safe, we would not still be searching for peace. What they kept was the illusion of safety, which has now become familiar, a temporary shelter that now blocks our view of the open sky.

The Tao reminds us that life, like water, flows best when unforced. When we loosen our grip on the false identity of the familiar illusion, we do not dissolve into nothingness; we return to the Oneness of everything. We rediscover the spaciousness of who we really are: vast, capable, and unshaken by the tides of circumstance. This is not losing the self; it is reclaiming it.

Here is where Taoist wisdom becomes our lantern. Wu wei, the art of effortless effort, teaches us that we do not have to wrench ourselves free. We stop pouring energy into the illusion of a perfect world and let the natural current of life carry us toward truth.

Why our Inner Child Resists Letting Go

The resistance to releasing “what never was” is not logical; it is emotional logic. Our Inner Child believes these illusions are part of their safety net. Without them, uncertainty looms, and the unknown seems dangerous. In the Inner Child’s world, there is also an unspoken belief that they are owed something, a kind of recompense for the injustice and unfairness they endured. To them, letting go of the illusion is not simply about releasing an old habit; it feels like surrendering their only chance to get what they believe they deserved all along.

Suppose they drop the idea of having ‘what they want, when they want it’; it can seem like admitting defeat, like agreeing that what happened was acceptable. And for our Inner Child, that is intolerable. So, they persist with emotional logic, arguing that clinging to the illusion is the only way to keep the hope, worthiness and value alive.

But this “hope” is more like chasing the horizon; it keeps them running but never brings them closer. It is like holding on to a closed fist full of sand, believing it will one day turn into gold. The tighter they grip, the more it slips away, and the more desperate they become to hold on. Wu wei teaches us that what is truly ours will flow to us naturally, without forcing or grasping. Our Shen, the unchanging essence of who we are, does not need to bargain with the past for its worth.

In Taoist wisdom, alignment is not giving up; it is setting down a heavy load we were never meant to carry. By releasing the demand for what “should have been,” we make space for what “can be”. When we loosen the grip of emotional logic, we step out of the small room of the past and into the open expanse of the present. Here, in the natural flow, we discover that we were never owed anything to begin with, because nothing was missing from us in the first place.

The Tao Te Ching offers guidance in Verse 1: “Recognising the opposites and extremes means discovering wu wei… The Tao opens and closes like a pair of bellows, receiving and letting go but never holding on.” This is not a poetic suggestion; it is a practical instruction. Life’s energy must circulate. When we grip an illusion, we create emotional stagnation.

Our Inner Child will often badger us with arguments: “If you stop hoping, you’re giving up.” “If you stop trying, you’ll lose everything.” “If you stop holding on, you’ll have nothing left.” But these are echoes from a time when our Inner Child could not yet see that Shen, our spiritual essence, is already whole, already safe, already complete. As adults aligned with our truth, we can reassure our Inner Child: “We are not abandoning hope; we are stepping into reality. We are not losing safety; we are finding it within.”

The Golden Thread Back to Truth

Letting go of illusions is not about denying the past; it is about understanding it. The Taoist ‘Golden Thread Process’ gives us a clear way forward: trace the red-light feeling back to its belief.

Suppose you feel rejected when someone ignores you. Instead of reacting, you ask: “Why am I feeling this? What belief is creating it?” Perhaps you find, “I am not important unless others acknowledge me.” This belief may have been born in childhood when recognition was scarce.

Here we apply the Shen Test: ‘Would I say this to my physical child?’ If not, it is unworthy of our truth. From there, we replace it with a belief grounded in authenticity: “My worth is inherent. Others’ recognition does not define me.” This is not wishful thinking; it is alignment with reality. It is returning to what was always real, rather than what was never true.

Counterarguments and the Taoist Response

Some may argue that holding on to illusions keeps us motivated, that they provide comfort, or even that hope is harmless. Taoism would gently counter: ‘hope rooted in falsehood is not hope, it is avoidance’. Hexagram 40 of the I Ching, Deliverance, teaches: “Release the knots, and the path becomes clear. Act with humility, and renewal follows naturally.” True renewal cannot arise while we are still tangled in the ropes of “what never was.”

Taoist wisdom also challenges the fear that letting go will leave us empty. In reality, when we release the illusion, we create space for genuine connection, clarity, and creative possibility. The emptiness is not a void; it is fertile ground.

Practical Steps to Release

1. Acknowledge Without Judging – Name the illusion without shaming yourself for having held it.

2. Dialogue With Our Inner Child – Offer reassurance: “We are safe now. We can trust ourselves.”

3. Use the Golden Thread – Trace emotional reactions back to their root belief and challenge them with truth.

4. Practice Wu Wei – Stop forcing closure or change from others. Let events unfold naturally.

5. Release CCJ – Stop Criticising, Comparing, and being Judgmental toward yourself or others.

6. Grounded in Shen – Remind yourself daily: “My worth is inherent and unchanging.”

The Freedom Beyond Illusion

When we practise the sacred art of releasing “what never was,” we discover a lightness we might not have believed possible. The constant mental rehearsals, imagining different endings, replaying old conversations, and future-proofing fade away. In their place is an openness to “what is” and a trust in what may naturally arise.

The I Ching’s Hexagram 59, Dispersion, speaks to this moment: “When rigidity dissolves, new paths become visible. The waters of life flow freely again.” This is not just emotional relief; it is spiritual clarity. We return to living in harmony with the Tao, where nothing is wasted, and every moment can be met with authenticity.

Illusions Unbound

In ‘Illusions Unbound’, we have explored how our Inner Child clings to perceptions that never truly existed, why releasing them seems threatening, and how Taoist practices like wu wei, the Shen Test, and the Golden Thread Process can guide us toward clarity.

The illusions may have once been protective, but they are not our home. Our home is in the spaciousness of unknown truth, in the unshakable value of our Shen, and in the effortless alignment of the Tao’s flow.

Let us walk forward without Criticising, Comparing, and being Judgmental (CCJ) toward ourselves or others. Let us take small, consistent, manageable steps in the direction of truth, knowing that each release creates more space for life to surprise and nourish us.

Never doubt your ability to live in authenticity. Release gently, stand in alignment, and allow the Tao to carry you into the richness of what “is”. In letting go of what never was, we open to the endless possibilities of what can be.

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Moments of Inspiration…

‘The Power of Three’: Truth, Honesty, and Integrity

There are quiet moments, perhaps in the hush of early morning or the stillness before sleep, when something within us stirs. A whisper. A pull. A moment of inspiration not born from the noise of the world, but from the deeper rhythm of our own Shen.

In Taoist and Wu Wei Wisdom teachings, we often return to simplicity. And there is nothing simpler, or more powerful, than the sacred trio: truth, honesty, and integrity. This is ‘The Power of Three’. Not just moral ideals, but spiritual anchors. When we align our beliefs, words, and actions with this trinity, we come home to ourselves.

Truth asks us to stop pretending. Honesty invites us to speak without masks. Integrity reminds us to live in harmony with what we know to be right. Together, they form a quiet yet unshakable foundation, a spiritual posture that needs no defence. They do not shout; they simply are.

Sometimes we may worry that living this way makes us vulnerable, too open, too exposed. But in truth, this is where our greatest strength lies. When we walk with ‘The Power of Three,’ we are not performing for the world; we are remembering who we are. And that remembrance radiates out, inspiring others in ways we may never fully see.

Affirm: “In truth, I remember my essence. With honesty, I speak my light. Through integrity, I walk my path. I am guided by ‘The Power of Three.’

This week, let us pause often. Breathe deeply. And return to this sacred trio. It is not perfection we seek, but alignment. And in that alignment, we shine.

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In the Next ‘Inner Circle’ (Paid) Journal…

• An exclusive verse and commentary of The Tao Te Ching.

• Dumped into the Maze

• Quiet Courage

• Moments of Inspiration

In the Next Free Journal…

• Thought Before Feeling

• Misguided Mercy

• The Maze of Confusion

• Moments of Inspiration

Journal # F046 15/09/2025