🟢 CORE TAKEAWAYS
• Judgment happens naturally, but clinging to it creates tension.
• Emotions flow like water—stillness clears them faster than force.
• Letting go doesn’t mean caring less—it means giving yourself space to feel without spiraling.
Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time looking into Buddhism and Taoism—Eastern philosophies that feel really different from the Christian upbringing I had.
I was raised Christian. I’m not particularly religious now, but I’m trying to stay open and learn from different perspectives. I spent a long period diving into the Bible and the Abrahamic traditions, and now I find myself drawn toward Taoism—especially its focus on harmony and the Way.
That shift hasn’t been easy. A big reason? I’m used to seeing life through clear moral judgments: right/wrong, good/bad, higher/lower. Taoism’s emphasis on not judging—or at least not clinging to judgment—has been difficult to practice.
🔍 HOW QUICK JUDGMENTS SHAPE MY DAILY LIFE
I’ve noticed how often my mind forms judgments automatically:
What’s the best behavior for my kids?
What’s the best thing for my wife to do or wear?
What’s the best way for me to act, talk, or show up?
Every judgment creates a shadow—something “lesser,” “wrong,” or “bad.” Taoism has a saying: when you create something beautiful, you create something ugly at the same time. By setting up rigid values for myself and my family, I also create this whole world of things to reject.
That way of thinking has gotten in the way of accepting my wife fully, accepting my kids, and even accepting myself. I can become my own judge, jury, and executioner—constantly looking for the “best” way to live and feeling tension when I inevitably fall short.
🌊 WHAT I’M LEARNING FROM NON-ATTACHMENT
What’s helped is realizing that it’s not about stopping judgment entirely. Judgment happens. Opinions happen. Emotions happen.
But Taoism (and Buddhism, in its own way) teach: don’t cling to it.
Something can feel “good”—but clinging to that feeling means you start running from “bad.”
You work out one day and feel strong, then miss a workout and feel guilty, because you’ve attached to that “better” state.
Non-attachment doesn’t mean indifference—it means letting things move through without spiraling.
☀️ A WEEK OF PRACTICING LETTING GO
This week gave me a simple but powerful example: one morning I woke up feeling completely uninspired.
Normally, I’d force myself to push through—try to hype myself up, guilt myself into being productive, or shame myself for not feeling motivated. But instead, I noticed it: I’m uninspired today. I said it out loud to my wife, and just that act of naming it felt like pressure leaving my chest.
I didn’t try to fix it right away. I just went to what I knew I could do: small, grounding things like feeding the dog, putting away the dishes, and making the bed. Nothing heroic, just what was in front of me.
By mid-morning, I’d naturally drifted into connection—we were sitting together, drinking coffee, laughing over something silly (how our zodiac signs should determine our wardrobes) while the kids played. The low feeling had lifted, and for a while, I felt like I was in flow.
But it didn’t last.
Later in the day, I dropped back into that low—quiet, unmotivated, feeling flat again. Normally, this is where I’d spiral: Why can’t I hold a good mood? Why can’t I keep that energy? But this time, I applied the same framework:
Notice: I acknowledged, I’m feeling low again.
Accept: I reminded myself it’s okay. Highs and lows come and go.
Flow: I chose something small and simple—a walk outside, then a shower.
It wasn’t about “fixing” the low, it was about moving gently through it. And sure enough, I found myself back in flow again—finishing some work, having another good conversation with my wife, picking up the kids from their grandparents, cooking dinner together, and ending the night with a family movie, bedtime routine, and some quiet yoga.
Looking back, what strikes me is this: it was a great day, not because it was all positive, but because I let every part of it exist. The moments in flow felt amazing—but I wouldn’t have reached them if I hadn’t accepted the uninspired moments first.
This is what non-attachment looks like for me right now: noticing what’s present, accepting it as it is, and flowing with what’s next. Sometimes flow comes, sometimes it goes—and that’s okay.
💧 EMOTIONS AS FLOW, NOT STATIC STATES
I’m realizing how often I hold on to uncomfortable emotions, almost like damming up a river:
Something happens in the morning, and I carry it all day.
I hold back anger, sadness, even joy, because I’m afraid of feeling out of control or uncomfortable.
But emotions are like muddy water: the more you stir and shake, the longer it stays cloudy. If you let it be still, it clears on its own.
That’s what non-attachment feels like for me right now—not solving everything instantly, but allowing space for emotions to rise and settle naturally.
🌱 WHY THIS MATTERS
Because I’ve started letting emotions flow instead of clinging, I:
Snap at my family less.
Recover faster when something hard happens.
Feel more present for the good moments because I’m not stuck in the bad ones.
I’m not done with this work—it still feels unnatural at times. But it’s teaching me to live more fully: to feel deeply, to let go quicker, and to trust the natural ups and downs of life.
🔄 FRAMEWORK: NOTICE → ACCEPT → FLOW
NOTICE: Catch the judgment or emotion early. Name it honestly.
ACCEPT: Allow yourself to feel it without rushing to fix or control it.
FLOW: Take a small, grounding action (like chores, a walk, or conversation) and let the day unfold naturally.
✍️ REFLECTION PROMPTS
• Where in your life do you cling to judgments about what’s “better” or “worse”?
• What’s one emotion you’ve been avoiding or trying to fix too quickly?
• How might you sit with that emotion and let it settle like still water?
Taoist Quote
“Do you have the patience to wait until your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving until the right action arises by itself?” – Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching
Thanks for reading—see you next time.