Silent Knowing
This week we talk about connecting to our Inner voice, measuring ourselves and the Inner Child's 'Vow'. Finally standing tall and speaking your truth.
“In the stillness beneath my doubt, I hear the quiet wisdom of my truth. I no longer chase certainty, I choose to trust the gentle voice within, guiding me home to alignment, peace, and flow.”
Have you ever stood at the edge of a decision, uncertain which voice to trust, the anxious pesterings of doubt or the murmur of assurance deep within? Do your emotions sometimes seem to take over, leaving you reacting instead of responding, spiralling in confusion instead of clarity? Have you ever looked back at a choice made in haste and wondered, “Why did I do that?” In our fast-paced world, with its constant noise and pressure, it's easy to forget that we already hold within us a more profound knowing, an intuitive compass that, if we could only learn to listen, would guide us gently and truthfully forward. This is the wisdom of discernment.
In this journal article, ‘Silent Knowing’, we’ll explore the Taoist teaching of discernment as more than a skill; it is a way of being. Rooted in wu wei, the Tao, and the voice of our Shen, the Sage, discernment invites us into an effortless effort of truthfully seeing. We’ll learn how to distinguish between our Inner Child's frantic need for reassurance and certainty and the calm truth of Shen. We’ll unpack how red-light emotions are not enemies but intelligent signals and how, by untangling our beliefs, we return to a place of quiet clarity. Most importantly, we’ll discuss how discernment is the key to living authentically, not being driven by fear, doubt or comparison, but moving with grace and self-assurance even in uncertainty.
The Inner Dance of Voices
Taoism teaches that discernment is not about intellectual decision-making. It is about spiritual listening and connection. Within each of us exists a daily dialogue, an interplay between our Inner Child and Shen. One is loud, demanding, and often uses emotions to get its way. The other is quiet, steady, and wise. Discernment enables us to recognise who is speaking.
Our Inner Child has been shaped by years of misunderstanding and misuse of emotions. It reproaches us when we fail, badgers us with unrealistic expectations, and harangues us with "what ifs." Our Inner Child seeks certainty, control, and validation. The Sage, which is the voice of Shen, on the other hand, never shouts. It does not chase attention. It simply knows. Like still water, Shen offers insight through resonance, not reasoning.
Verse 49 of the Tao Te Ching reminds us: “The Sage listens to all and asks why. The Sage carries no opinion, only presence.” This teaching guides us to question without judgment. When we ask, “Why do I believe this?” or “Is this mine?” we open the door to discernment.
We must learn to pause when red-light feelings arise—anxiety, fear, shame—and instead of acting, inquire. These feelings are not evidence of failure; they are evidence of what I believe at the moment. They are messages that point to a more profound belief. We ask, “What belief is creating this feeling?” and most importantly, “Do I still choose to believe this?”
Discernment Is Not Judgement
It is crucial to differentiate discernment from being judgmental. Judgmental behaviour involves CCJ - Comparison, Criticism, and being Judgmental, often with a desire for superiority or control, as well as a preconceived notion of what’s best or the ‘right thing to do’. Discernment is the opposite. It requires humility. It says, “I do not know everything, but I am willing to understand.” Or “I could be wrong, I’m willing to look at things with fresh eyes and mind.” In this openness, we find clarity.
The I Ching, in Hexagram 61 (Chung Fu/Inner Truth), offers this wisdom: “Inner truth is the root of harmony, found in sincerity and nurtured by integrity.” This truth cannot be imposed; it must be discovered within. And that requires honest reflection and patient listening.
When our Inner Child panics, the urge is to soothe it by seeking approval, altering our truth to suit others, or retreating into familiar, safe patterns. But discernment involves asking: “Does this choice reflect who I am, or am I trying to avoid disapproval?” This moment of reflection marks a crucial spiritual crossroad, where we must pause and examine the root of our discomfort.
Often, we confuse emotional intensity with truth. Our Inner Child, shaped by past experiences of perceived failure or rejection, reacts with the urgency of a fire alarm, interpreting disapproval as danger and non-acceptance as abandonment. It cares not for the wisdom of the present, but for the memory of losing control in the past.
The panic we experience is not evidence of failure; it is the echo of a younger self reliving a moment when it believed it had lost or had no power. Like a child convinced that the board game was only worth playing if they could win, our Inner Child equates control with worthiness and sees unpredictability as a form of punishment.
This belief, that only control guarantees value, is the hidden script we are invited to rewrite. Taoist wisdom reminds us through wu wei that true power does not shout or dominate; it flows. The Tao Te Ching whispers, “When rooted deeply, the foundation is firm. When aligned with the Tao, nothing is lost. Everything returns to balance.” In relinquishing the illusion of control, we reclaim something far greater: alignment.
Let us consider nature. The willow bends in the storm, not because it is weak, but because it understands the wisdom of yielding. It does not try to direct the wind but survives precisely because it flows with it. Our Inner Child, by contrast, stiffens like an oak, mistaking rigidity for strength and inevitably breaking under the strain.
To guide our Inner Child gently into this awareness, we must offer not appeasement but understanding. We do not bribe it with validation or silence its fears with denial. We speak with clarity: “I understand your thoughts and beliefs. Remember, we no longer measure our worth by how much we can control.” This is how emotional re-parenting begins, not with defiance, but with presence.
In truth, our Shen, the spiritual essence that dwells within, is not threatened by the unknown. It thrives in it. The Shen does not seek to manipulate outcomes; it expresses truth. When we align our choices with that ‘Silent Knowing’ rather than the demands of control and certainty, we move from desperation to discernment, from fear to a state of flow.
So, the next time our Inner Child flares in a moment of perceived powerlessness, let us not reach for reassurance, but for reality. Ask, “Is this red-light emotion rooted in truth, or just an old belief still wearing a child's shoes?” In that awareness, we reclaim our freedom, not by winning the game, but by remembering we were never competing in the first place.
Living from our truth may initially seem unfamiliar, even frightening. But as we learn to trust our Shen, the panic of our Inner Child begins to settle. With each honest decision, we reinforce that we are safe, worthy, and guided from within.
Emotions as Messengers, Not Masters
Another essential aspect of discernment is understanding the language of emotions. As Taoist wisdom teaches, emotions are not caused by what happens to us, but by how we interpret what happens. Every intense emotion is rooted in a belief. “We are not the passive recipients of emotional storms but the active creators of our experience.” This is freeing. It means we are not helpless before our moods or impulses. We can observe them, question them, and make different choices.
The ‘Golden Thread Process’ gently guides us back to the essence of our truth, a graceful unfolding rather than a rigid interrogation. It offers us not just steps, but sacred invitations to return to a state of alignment. Each question becomes a doorway into deeper awareness:
• “What red-light feeling am I creating?” – We begin by naming it a red-light feeling, not as a burden but as a signal. Emotions are a physiological reaction; we can call them whatever we want.
• “Why am I choosing to create this?” – We explore the root, tracing the ‘Golden Thread’ back to the belief, thought, or memory that planted the seed. “Whose voice is echoing here? What moment taught me this reaction?” “Is this belief aligned with my truth, my Shen?” – And then, the most liberating inquiry: “Is it real? Is it mine? Does this belief nourish or deplete the life I wish to live? Would I teach this to my physical child? If it no longer serves me, am I willing to release it with love?”
When we follow the ‘Golden Thread’ of our emotion, we find the belief at its root. And from there, we can choose again. This is the dance of discernment: observe, trace, question, and align with an open and curious mind.
Discernment does not eliminate emotion; it transforms our relationship with it. Red-light feelings become guideposts. Green-light feelings—love, calm, clarity, peace—are not the goal, but the natural outcome of alignment.
Wu Wei and the Effortless Effort of Truth
Discernment leads us naturally to wu wei. When we are discerning, we are not making decisions hastily. We are allowing truth to emerge. We are not trying to manipulate outcomes but responding from clarity.
In Verse 71, the Tao Te Ching offers: “Knowing ignorance is strength. Thinking you know what you do not is illness.” This teaching is humility in action. Discernment means letting go of the need to know everything in advance. It means accepting uncertainty and acting only when the path becomes clear.
In ‘From Fear to Flow – Our Inner Child’s Journey’, we explored how our Inner Child clings to control and predictability. But discernment helps us step off the “Carousel of Despair,” recognising that we don’t need to know the future, we only need to know ourselves.
This shift from prediction to alignment is radical. It frees us from CCJ—Criticism, Comparison, and being Judgmental. We no longer need to prove ourselves or defend our path. We walk it, led by Shen.
Honouring Our Truth, Living Authentically
Discernment is not a single act. It is a way of living. It invites us to build our lives on integrity, not fear. To choose relationships, work, and words that reflect our Shen. And to take responsibility for every belief we hold.
From the journal post ‘Awakening Accountability’, we are reminded: “We are the architects of our emotions, the shapers of our realities, and the keepers of our spirit’s integrity.” Discernment is how we fulfil that responsibility. It enables us to dismantle false identities and return to our true selves.
When we live with discernment, we become trustworthy not only to others but also to ourselves. We stop betraying our values to fit in. We stop abandoning ourselves for approval. We become reliable stewards of our Shen.
And from that place, we move through life not with fear, but with quiet assurance. Not demanding outcomes, but trusting in the unfolding. Not needing to control others, but listening deeply to our truth.
The Final Truth of Silent Knowing
As we draw this journal post to a close, let us return to the truth of ‘Silent Knowing’. Discernment is not a technique, but a remembering. It is remembering that within us exists a still, clear voice. A voice that never shouts. A voice that waits patiently beneath the chaos of our emotions and the noise of our Inner Child.
This voice, our Shen, offers not commands, but clarity. Not pressure, but peace. When we choose to listen, we step into alignment. We begin to live not from reaction but response. Not from fear, but truth. We are not broken. We are not lost. We are simply learning to listen again.
Let us take small, consistent, and manageable steps. Let us pause before reacting. Let us question every red-light feeling. Let us ask, “Is this belief truly mine? Is it aligned with who I am?” And then, let us choose again.
Let us not CCJ - Compare, Criticise, or be Judgmental of ourselves or others. Let us not demand perfection. Instead, let us commit to honesty, to alignment, and the quiet power of ‘Silent Knowing’. Affirm: “I trust my discernment. I listen to the ‘Silent Knowing’ within. I choose alignment and flow, not control. I walk with integrity and truth. I honour the quiet power of my Shen.”
Together, we learn to trust the path of discernment. Together, we remember that truth is never loud. It is gentle, steady, and waiting, just beneath the noise, always there, always guiding.
This is the path of ‘Silent Knowing’. And it is ours to walk.
Do You Measure Up?
Have you ever caught yourself silently measuring your worth against someone else’s? Perhaps it’s the career they have, the way they seem effortlessly confident, or how much more “together” their life appears to be. Do you catch our Inner Child badgering, “Why can’t we be like them?” or haranguing, “We should be better by now!”? Beneath these self-critical monologues lies a deeper question: ‘What are we using to measure our worth, and why?’
In this journal, we examine one of our Inner Child’s most enduring illusions: the measuring stick. This internal tool, forged in childhood, is used in a desperate attempt to pursue perfection, safety, and superiority, all in the hope of feeling safe, accepted, and loved. We carry it quietly, comparing ourselves to others, to impossible standards, and to imagined ideals of who we should be.
But what if this measuring stick is flawed, built not on truth, but on misunderstanding? What if, rather than guiding us, it holds us prisoner on the ‘Carousel of Despair,’ like a whip of conformity spinning us endlessly through feelings of not-enoughness, shame, and inadequacy?
And what if the stick itself is just an illusion, a creation of our Inner Child’s unmet needs and mistaken beliefs? What if there was never a stick at all? Imagine the freedom of seeing that there is nothing to measure, no one to surpass, and no finish line to reach. The measuring stick doesn’t exist outside our minds; it was never real. It was a belief formed in moments of emotional confusion, not a reflection of our true essence. When we realise this, we start to step off the carousel. We begin to live not by measuring up, but by showing up, authentically, fully, and free from false comparison.
This journal post offers a compassionate invitation to explore the origins and consequences of this mental measuring stick and to discover how Taoist wisdom and wu wei can liberate us from its grip. We’ll unpack our Inner Child’s longing to be number one, the exhausting cycle of comparison, and how our misplaced belief in earned worth leads us further from our Shen. Together, we’ll walk toward a gentler truth: that our worth is not measured, it’s realised.
Our Inner Child’s Ruler: A Tool for Perfection or Protection?
Our Inner Child, formed during our tender years of confusion, dependency, and raw emotional need, learned to seek safety in certainty. When love appeared conditional, our Inner Child adapted. “Be good, be better, be the best,” it thought, “and then they’ll never leave or hurt me again.” This is where the measuring stick was born: a tool to assess worth by achievements, accolades, and appearances.
This stick doesn’t just measure progress; it judges, compares, and divides. “She’s prettier.” “He’s smarter.” “They’re more successful.” Every tick on the scale becomes a reason to feel unworthy. And in this toxic pursuit of perfection, our Inner Child unknowingly constructs an impossible ideal: to be flawless, superior, and special enough to escape Criticism, Comparison, and being Judged (CCJ).
But Taoist wisdom gently reminds us: the Tao “does not compete, yet no one under Heaven can compete with it” (Tao Te Ching, Verse 66). The Tao does not rise by comparison. It flows, it yields, it simply is. To align with the nature of the Tao is to step out of competition and into our authentic rhythm, to abandon the measuring stick and realise we were never lacking. And here lies a more profound revelation: comparison is not merely unhelpful, it is an illusion.
How can we compare one unique expression with another? It’s like weighing the fragrance of a rose against the hue of a sunflower; each exists perfectly in its form, incomparable by nature. Just as the Tao flows without judgment, we too are invited to see our lives not as reflections of others’ paths, but as singular expressions of the Tao within. We are not here to be better, faster, or more admired than another; we are here to be authentically and wholly ourselves. Let us release this outdated construct, this phantom belief that our worth can be measured against another’s. In truth, there is no contest in authenticity, only harmony.
The Illusion of Specialness: When Comparison Becomes Identity
The desire to be special, to be “number one”, is a mirage our Inner Child chases in the hope of finally escaping its unspoken fear: “What if there is something wrong with me and I’m not enough?” It imagines that being superior will shield it from external judgment, rejection, and the sting of unworthiness. In this fantasy, praise becomes protection, and perfection becomes the price of love. But this quest for specialness is never truly satisfied. Each moment of recognition is fleeting, a spark that fizzles almost as soon as it lights. And then comes the familiar ache, the emptiness that follows applause, the hollow silence after achieving something meant to fill the void. So, the chase begins again.
Like the endless ride on the ‘Carousel of Despair,’ this pattern traps us in motion without progress, spinning through anxiety, striving, and self-doubt. We search for certainty, approval, validation… but find ourselves circling the same old fears. But let us pause. What if we’re chasing a mirage? What if the very measuring stick we use, against others, against imagined ideals, against yesterday’s self, was never real to begin with?
What if the stick is not just flawed, but entirely illusory, never crafted from truth, only born from confusion? Because beneath all this striving lies one fundamental misunderstanding: our Inner Child has mistakenly believed that it does not have innate, inherent worth.
Somewhere along the path, it absorbed the falsehood that value must be earned, through performance, through praise, through pleasing others. That worth is something others hold and can hand out… or withhold. And it is this core error that fuels the measuring stick, that turns the wheel of the carousel, that thickens the walls of the ‘Maze of Confusion’.
From a Taoist lens, this belief is not only incorrect but also a distortion of nature itself. No mountain must prove its grandeur. No river competes for flow. The universe never questions its existence, nor asks for validation to be vast and magnificent. As the Tao Te Ching reminds us, “Heaven and Earth are eternal… because they do not live for themselves.” We were never meant to live as performers on a stage built by other people’s opinions. Our actual task is not to be special, but to be authentic, not to become better, but to remember we were always enough.
The illusion of specialness is seductive because it seems to offer safety. But it comes at the price of authenticity. And as long as we chase the illusion, we can never stand still long enough to realise the more profound truth: we already possess what we’ve been seeking.
Imagine if we were to drop the measuring stick entirely. Imagine if we turned inward and asked our Inner Child, not what it needs to achieve, but what it longs to understand. That love is not earned, worth is not conditional, and value cannot be outsourced. These are not gifts bestowed from outside; they are truths that arise from within when we live in alignment with the Tao.
When we cease measuring, we begin truly living. Let us step away from the carousel. Let us stop looking for that measuring stick, because in reality, there was never a stick, only a child yearning to hear from someone it could genuinely trust: “You were always enough!”
This comparison game often backfires. Instead of inspiring or motivating us, it drags us down with thoughts like, “Why can’t I keep up?” or “What’s wrong with me?” Our Inner Child holds onto these beliefs not because they are true but because they are familiar. They were the conclusions we reached when love was withheld: “I’m not good enough,” “I can’t cope,” “I’m unlovable.” The measuring stick evaluates and confirms these lies, not our truth.
The I Ching in Hexagram 47, Oppression, teaches: “It is when we stop seeking approval from others and turn within that we find true clarity and strength.” This inner turning is our invitation to put the stick down and step into the wholeness of Shen, our spiritual essence that needs no comparison to shine.
Fear of Criticism: Why the Stick Never Rests
Every measurement is an attempt to future-proof. Our Inner Child believes: “If I am perfect, they won’t criticise me.” But this creates a painful paradox: the more we strive, the more anxious we become. We self-monitor, overanalyse, and doubt even our successes. The measuring stick becomes a weapon we turn inward.
In the ‘Turning Negatives into Positives’ Journal post, we read: “Our Inner Child script shouts danger… using restrictive words to maintain its outdated narrative.”. Even in moments of achievement, the stick whispers, “But it’s still not enough.” This fear-based striving is exhausting, not empowering.
Taoist philosophy offers an antidote: effortless effort, wu wei. The Tao Te Ching advises in Verse 64: “A journey of a thousand miles begins beneath your feet. Rushing leads to ruin; effort without alignment leads to loss.” The Tao teaches us to release the urge to outrun criticism and to trust the natural rhythm of our actions. The authentic safety lies not in being beyond reproach but in being aligned with our Shen.
Escaping the Carousel: Reclaiming the True Measure
What if we replaced the measuring stick with the ‘Shen Test’? As shared in the “From Trauma to Tranquillity” journal post, this compassionate inquiry asks: “Would I say this exact belief to a vulnerable child I love?” If the answer is no, then the belief is a lie, a remnant of outdated programming.
Our Inner Child doesn’t need a stick; it needs guidance. It needs to be told: “You are not broken. Your worth is not conditional. We’re not here to be number one; we’re here to be authentic.”
In the I Ching’s Hexagram 20, Contemplation, we find this wisdom: “The true measure is not in what others see but in what you understand of yourself.” By turning inward, we begin to measure from a place of integrity and spirit, not scarcity and survival. As we gently challenge our Inner Child’s assumptions, we open the door to a new way of living, one where value is not earned but recognised, not performed but embodied.
Letting the Stick Fall
The false measure, this internal gauge of judgment, comparison, and perfection, has long dictated how we see ourselves. But as we’ve explored, it is a childhood tool born from misunderstanding, not wisdom. It was never meant to guide us; it was only meant to protect us, albeit mistakenly. And now, it’s time to lay it down.
We do this not by berating our Inner Child, but by becoming its loving guide. We show that value cannot be ranked or compared. Being “special” is not about being superior, but about embracing our unique path with dignity and clarity. Let us remember the teaching from the “Accepting Yourself” journal post: “When we base our lives on others’ expectations, we deviate from the guidance of our Shen and become trapped in a ‘Maze of Confusion’ and conformity.” The measuring stick is the confused guide and enforcer in this maze. But our way out is the Tao.
And so, we step into the state of wu wei. We do not chase superiority; we embrace authenticity. We stop comparing and start aligning. No more Criticising, comparing, or being Judgmental (CCJ). Just small, consistent, manageable steps rooted in our truth.
Let this be our affirmation: “I am not here to measure up. I am here to show up, in alignment, in truth, and with Shen as my guide.” Together, we break the measuring stick, end the cycle, and return to ourselves. We no longer ask, “Do I measure up?” We ask instead, “Am I aligned with the truth, honesty and integrity of the Tao?” And in that quiet question, the answer always flows.
When Blame Replaces Reflection
Have you ever been caught in a loop, the mind spinning with justifications, blaming others for their failures or blaming yourself for being too much or never enough? Perhaps you've heard our Inner Child chastise, pressure, or reproach, insisting that life has been unfair, crying out that someone must put it right. We may find ourselves emotionally overwhelmed, mentally tangled, and spiritually lost, asking over and over again, “Why did this happen?” or “Why can’t they fix it?” At the centre of this suffering lies something hidden yet intensely potent. A childhood ‘Vow’ tied to justice and fairness. This journal post will explore how this ‘Vow’, often unnoticed, becomes the pivot around which our Inner Child creates a lifetime of emotional patterns. It will delve into the painful trap of blame, excuses, domination, and victimhood that our Inner Child uses to protect itself. Together, we will uncover how Taoist wisdom and wu wei, the principle of effortless effort, can dissolve these illusions and guide us back into harmony with our true nature, Shen.
The Emotional Contract That Never Matures
The teaching of the "Broken Vow" arises from a quiet, often-forgotten moment in early childhood, around the tender ages of six to nine, when our Inner Child, confused and overwhelmed, encounters what seems like a profound injustice. In that moment of emotional chaos or perceived rejection, our child does not see flawed humans in our parents or caregivers. Instead, it sees towering figures of truth and survival. To protect itself and preserve this illusion of safety, the Inner Child made a painful yet unconscious ‘Vow’: “They must be right. So, it must be me who is wrong.” From this innocent logic, a core ‘Vow’ quietly takes root deep in our mind: “There’s something wrong or missing in me!” This is not the truth, but rather a profound misunderstanding born from a moment of great confusion. And yet, we carry it above our innate worth.
These inner vows are not malicious but misguided attempts to make sense of a world that seemed too complex to navigate. They form what we call the ‘Vow’ because they fracture our connection with our authentic Shen, our spiritual essence, and replace truth with conditioned beliefs. The teaching here is vital and sacred: we are not broken; we adopted beliefs that never belonged to us. Our Inner Child didn’t lack worth; it lacked clarity. Now, with love and courage, we can return to that moment, not to relive it, but to reframe it with the insight we hold today.
From that single ‘Vow’, an entire emotional world is built, one that constantly seeks justice and fairness, demanding that the universe and other people correct our Inner Child’s perceived wrong. This is not simply an inner echo; it becomes a persistent, emotional strategy. Our Inner Child, locked in this belief, will do anything to avoid revisiting the original moment. Rather than risk confronting that ‘Vow’, it chooses to blame others, attempt to dominate situations, or play the helpless victim. All are desperate efforts to soothe the belief that something vital and true was taken or denied.
The Mask of Righteousness
From this space, life becomes a tug-of-war between the ‘Vow’ and emotional logic, with truth and ‘Shen Logic’. Our Inner Child is not concerned with solutions unless they are on its terms; it is committed to survival through emotional strategies. If it can dominate, it avoids vulnerability. If it can appear helpless, it escapes accountability. These two extremes, domination and victimhood, are the mirror reflections of the same avoidance strategy. Both stem from the need to distract from the discomfort of questioning the ‘Vow’. Our Inner Child, with its innocent but rigid sense of morality, believes that if others are to blame, or if the universe is unjust and should operate on its terms, then its core belief remains protected and unchallenged. This belief, however misguided, becomes safer than the possibility that life may not be as black and white as it once was thought.
Caught in the Carousel and Maze
And so begins the Carousel of Despair. Round and round we go, arguing with life, resenting others, waiting for apologies, hoping someone or something will finally put things right. But no matter how many times the circle spins, the sense of being misunderstood, mistreated, or misjudged never fades.
The unresolved ‘Vow’ powers this emotional loop. Our Inner Child has convinced itself that fairness is external. Someone must apologise. Life must offer compensation. Only then will peace arrive. But Taoism teaches that waiting for life to satisfy emotional demands only deepens dissatisfaction. The Tao does not bend to our emotional bargains. In Tao Te Ching, Verse 58 reminds us, “The greatest justice is that which holds no form. The Tao neither rewards nor punishes; it flows.” The Tao does not justify, it realigns.
This refusal to confront the ‘Vow’ leads us into the ‘Maze of Confusion’. Unlike the Carousel, which is circular and predictable, the Maze is layered, deceptive, and emotional. In this space, our Inner Child hides behind justifications and excuses. It tells itself and us stories about how it was treated, how it tried its best, and how no one understands. In this maze, some doors lead nowhere, while others amplify echoes that only intensify emotional pain as a cry for help. The deeper we walk, the more difficult it becomes to recall the original truth. Our Inner Child might even begin to manipulate, gently or forcefully, attempting to guilt others, silence criticism, or draw attention to itself by increasing its suffering. Not because it is cruel, but because it is frightened and becomes a victim of its emotional feelings. Control becomes a sanctuary in chaos. As long as it can manage perceptions, it doesn’t have to confront the original misbelief: that the world must bend to its definition of entitlement for it to be fair and whole.
Returning to the Source
There comes a point in every spiritual path when we must ask ourselves a gentler, wiser question: “What if I’ve been wrong?” Not as an admission of failure, but as an act of maturity and spiritual logic. This is where true freedom begins, not in external reparation but in internal realignment. For our Inner Child, such a thought is unbearable. To even consider that its black-and-white interpretation of justice might be a misunderstanding can seem like a personal betrayal. But from the Taoist perspective, to evolve is not to betray ourselves but to release what no longer serves. We do not abandon our Inner Child; we reparent it. We do not dismantle its protective walls with cruelty, but with kindness, consistency, and deep inquiry.
This is where the ‘Golden Thread Process’ becomes our tool. We follow the emotional thread — fear, anxiety, anger, guilt, sadness — not to feed it, but to trace it back to the belief that gave rise to it. We ask, with patience and clarity, “What do I truly believe is unfair?” and “Who decided that this must be corrected for me to find peace?” Often, the answer lies in that early moment of confusion, when our Inner Child made a ‘Vow’ out of desperation. When we see that the ‘Vow’ was not truth but interpretation, we begin to soften the chains of our suffering. We begin to separate our Shen, our eternal spiritual essence, from the temporary survival tactics of our Inner Child. We are not the ‘Vow’. We are not the broken story. We are the space from which healing arises.
A Taoist Reframe: Justice Through Acceptance
The Tao offers no courtroom, no gavel, no scales. It offers flow. It asks not that we weigh or judge, but that we align. In the I Ching, Hexagram 21, ‘Biting Through’, we are told: “True resolution arises when clarity meets timing. Force resolves little; understanding resolves all.” This does not mean allowing others to harm us or denying our truth. It means understanding that personal justice begins when we stop demanding that the external world bend to heal our internal beliefs.
This may sound radical, especially to our Inner Child. “But it’s not fair!” it cries. And we respond, “I understand you believe it wasn’t fair, and it hurt. But now, we decide how long we suffer.” This isn’t denial. It’s empowerment. We do not erase what happened; we realign with what is. We choose no longer to carry the emotional burden of waiting for others to validate our pain. We take ownership of our emotions, not as punishment, but as liberation.
This process isn’t cold or detached; it’s deeply emotional, spiritually rich, and grounded in compassion. We’re not trying to strip away reality or suppress our emotions. Instead, we’re learning to question the old promises and stories we made to ourselves, that ‘Vow’ we took on as children. When we practice the ‘Flip’ and stop trying to bend reality to match outdated beliefs, we create space for spiritual growth by examining the beliefs themselves.
Our Inner Child isn't something broken that needs fixing, nor is it an adversary we must silence. It's the innocent, hopeful part of us that’s still waiting for someone to explain the truth gently and honestly. It believes that love must be earned from others, that our value depends on what we achieve, and that life should always be fair. But these are misunderstandings. Love is an emotion we choose and create from within. Our worth is innate; it was never up for negotiation. And fairness, while often longed for, is not a guarantee; it’s shaped by our perspective, not by some universal promise.
Compassionate Realignment: A New Way Forward
Imagine sitting on the ‘Carousel of Despair,’ everything spinning —emotions, stories, lack of control, expectations, entitlement —and then choosing to step off. Not because the carousel stopped, but because we no longer want to ride it. This act, sacred yet straightforward, marks the beginning of the Taoist healing process. We tell our Inner Child: “You do not need to prove your pain. You do not need to be right to be loved. You do not need to dominate to be heard. You do not need to be a victim to be safe.”
We begin taking small, consistent, manageable steps. No more extreme reactions, no more waiting for cosmic justice, no more CCJ - Criticism, Comparison, and being judgmental. We begin speaking to our Inner Child with love and clarity. We apply the ‘Shen Test’ and ask, “Would I speak this way to a vulnerable child I care about?” If not, we don’t speak that way to ourselves. We replace harshness with truth, not platitudes. Truth, aligned with Shen, and spiritual logic never harm.
We stop arguing with life and start cooperating with it. That is the essence of wu wei. We do not force healing. We allow it. We do not demand fairness. We become fair. We do not ask for understanding. We seek to understand. In doing so, we return to the Tao, not as an abstract philosophy but as a lived experience. A breath. A decision. A compassionate correction each time the ‘Vow’ tries to reassert itself.
The Power to Break the ‘Vow’
The ‘Vow’ was never your truth. It was a frightened decision made by a child trying to survive. But now, we are no longer six or nine years old. We have the tools, the strength, and the spiritual maturity to live beyond that ‘Vow’. We no longer need to carry the burden of fairness being delayed or denied. We reclaim our alignment with the Tao.
In this journey, we have explored how our Inner Child resists the truth through blame, excuses, or attempts at domination. We have seen how its desperate cry for justice keeps it circling in despair or lost in confusion. But we have also learned that the path forward is not paved with judgment but with self-inquiry, compassion, and alignment.
Let us not wait another day for someone else to repair our past or give us our future. Let us stop believing that fairness is external and begin living our inner justice through Shen. May we no longer twist and turn to protect an illusion but walk straight into the light of our clarity.
It’s time to break your ‘Vow’, not with anger, but with grace. Let it dissolve like mist at sunrise, revealing the truth we’ve always known deep down: we are enough, we can cope, and we are lovable, without conditions, without CCJ, and without the need to justify or dominate.
Try repeating this affirmation: “I choose to break the vow, and no longer argue with life. I realign with the Tao. I do not wait for justice. I become it.” Now, we walk, not with haste, but with wu wei. Not with fear, but with Shen, connected to our spirituality. One step at a time, leaving the ‘Broken Vow’ behind.
Moments of Inspiration…
Speak your truth.
There are moments in life when we catch ourselves holding back, swallowing words, silencing thoughts, or softening truths to comfort others. Have you ever noticed how heavy that silence becomes? It presses on the chest, echoing louder than any spoken word.
In Taoist teaching, harmony does not mean hiding our true nature. Wu wei reminds us that truth spoken with kindness flows as naturally as a river. When we resist this flow, we dam the waters of our spirit, creating tension and disconnection. Speaking our truth is not about confrontation; it is about alignment, honouring who we are with honesty, compassion, and clarity.
Our Inner Child often fears that truth will bring rejection. Yet, when truth is carried on the breath of love, it builds bridges rather than walls. Each time we speak with integrity, we remind ourselves: “I am whole, I am real, I am enough.” The Tao whispers that authenticity is never an act of defiance but a gentle returning to balance.
Truth, expressed with respect, is a gift. It liberates us from the burden of pretending and invites others to meet us as we truly are. These small, courageous acts of honesty become seeds of inspiration, for ourselves and for those around us.
Affirm: “I honour my truth and speak it with love. In every word I share, I create harmony, courage, and connection.”
As we move into the week ahead, let us practise this: pause, breathe, and when truth arises, allow it to flow, not as a battle cry, but as a quiet song of authenticity.
In the Next ‘Inner Circle’ (Paid) Journal…
Emotional Logic
The Soft Unlearning
Fear’s Hidden Flame
Moments of Inspiration
In the Next Free Journal…
The Right Illusion
Impossible Mirror
Dream Echoes
Moments of Inspiration
Journal #F044 01/09/2025