Lao Tzu was an ancient Chinese philosopher, often regarded as the founder of Taoism. He’s best known
for writing the Tao Te Ching—a short, poetic text filled with some of the deepest spiritual
insights ever written. The word Tao simply means “the Way.” But not a rigid set of rules,
not a straight path—just the natural rhythm of the universe. The quiet order that everything
follows when left undisturbed. Taoism invites us to live in tune
with that rhythm. To trust. To be still. The moment we stop fighting the current,
we begin to notice something—we’re already being carried to where we need to be.
But that’s not how most of us live. At some point, we got pulled into a race we never chose. Chasing
promotions, chasing status, chasing what everyone else seems to have. Always trying to stay ahead.
Always afraid to fall behind. We call it the rat race—but really, it’s just endless running,
without ever arriving. And the faster we run, the more disconnected we feel from who we truly are.
In this video, we’re going to talk about how to step out of that race—and what it actually
means to move through life without force. It’s not about doing nothing. It’s about doing less,
but with clarity. Letting go of what’s weighing us down. And learning to flow with life,
so we can finally not just arrive somewhere, but arrive as ourselves.
1: Recognize the Illusion Lao Tzu says, “Chase after money and security,
and your heart will never unclench.” We grow up being told a story:
Study hard, get good grades, get into a good college, land a stable job, earn well,
buy a home, start a family, save for retirement — and somewhere along the way, you’ll feel safe.
You’ll feel settled. You’ll finally relax. It sounds logical. Comforting,
even. But here’s where the illusion begins: It assumes peace is something we earn after
we’ve done everything right — after the grind, the hustle, the milestones.
It tells us that once we have enough, we’ll feel enough.
Think about your own life. You probably remember how hard
you worked to land your first decent-paying job. Maybe it felt like the answer — like you’d finally
“made it.” But then what? You adjusted. Your lifestyle grew. The goalposts moved.
Now maybe you make double or triple what you used to — but are you twice as peaceful? Do you sleep
better? Do you feel more at ease in your own skin? That’s the illusion Lao Tzu warned us about.
We think we’re chasing security — a sense of control, of being settled. But often,
what we’re really feeding is anxiety. The promotions come with pressure. The
raises bring more responsibility. The upgrades come with more to maintain.
Instead of resting in our success, we live with this quiet tension — so what’s next?
We keep striving, not because we’re greedy, but because we’ve
been taught that peace lives just one step ahead. The system dangles it like a carrot — always in
the future, always just out of reach. The deeper truth is this:
We’re not really craving more money or status — we’re craving relief.
We want to stop waking up with a knot in our stomach.
We want to stop measuring our worth by our output. But instead of questioning the system,
we blame ourselves. We think we’re the problem — not focused enough,
not smart enough, not working hard enough. So how do we begin to step out of this cycle?
It all starts with a shift in perspective: Don’t ask, “What’s my dream job?”
Ask, “What does my ideal day look like?” Not a fantasy vacation — just a day you’d love
to live again and again, without burning out. Sit down with a notebook and write it out:
What time would I wake up if money wasn’t the motivator?
Would I go for a walk, make tea slowly, stretch, breathe — not
because I have to, but because I want to? Would my morning be calm or rushed?
Who would I spend time with if I wasn’t performing or networking?
What would I do that feels meaningful — even without applause or likes?
And most importantly: What kind of energy would I carry? Calm? Focused? Free?
This isn’t about being dreamy. It’s about being honest.
You may realize the things you truly value — time, space, connection, health — cost far less than
the lifestyle you’re maintaining just to keep up. Let’s say you’re earning an above average amount
each month at a respected but exhausting job. You’re always on, always tired,
with little space to reflect, to move slowly. You keep hoping the next raise
will bring relief. But look back — has any raise brought more presence? But all it does is repeat,
forever moving the goalposts so they’re always just out of reach.
Now imagine a different rhythm. You scale back. Simplify.
You take work that pays a bit less, but respects your pace.
You wake up without an alarm. You work fewer hours, but with clarity.
You read. You walk. You breathe. You feel awake again.
The rat race teaches you to trade your present for a future version of peace.
Taoism reminds you: peace begins now — when you stop chasing what you never really needed.
2: Start Flowing According to Lao Tzu;
“Practice not-doing, and everything will fall into place.”
Most of us are tired. Not because we’re lazy or lack
discipline — but because we’re always on. There’s this constant, low-grade
pressure humming in the background: to achieve, to stay ahead, to prove something.
We wake up and our minds are already spinning — emails, deadlines, messages, expectations.
Even rest starts to feel like another item on the to-do list.
This is the rat race. And it’s not just about
work. It’s about the belief that if we ever stop pushing, we’ll fall behind.
So we are always planning, always comparing, always chasing the next thing.
And underneath all that motion is a quiet fear: If I stop, I’ll lose control. If I let go,
everything might fall apart. That’s where wu wei comes in.
In Taoism, wu wei means “not forcing” — but that doesn’t mean doing nothing.
It’s about learning to act without all the stress and struggle we’ve come to see as normal.
It’s about flowing with life, not against it. Like a river that flows around obstacles,
or a tree that bends with the wind, you still move forward — but
without forcing or fighting every moment. It’s knowing when to act, and when to pause.
When to speak up, and when quiet is the wiser choice.
This might sound idealistic at first — until you actually try it. So try this, just for a week:
Keep doing what you’re doing, but take the pressure off.
Drop the idea that everything needs to be perfect.
Do your work with attention, but not obsession. Don’t chase praise. Don’t panic about outcomes.
Just do the task — and let it be. You’ll notice that most things still get done.
Some even go better — because you’re no longer overthinking or rushing.
Your energy feels steadier. You’re less reactive. You begin working with yourself,
not against yourself. The need to compete fades.
You care less about keeping up — and more about showing up.
The rat race runs on force and fear. But wu wei runs on trust — trust
in yourself, and in life. Quitting the rat race means choosing
flow over fight. When you stop forcing, you make space. For clarity. For peace. And for the life
you were too busy to notice. So the next time you feel the urge to hustle harder, pause. Ask
yourself: Can I do this with less tension? Can I move with the current instead of against it?
3: Quiet the Noise Inside
In the words of Lao Tzu… “He who knows he has enough is rich.”
In the rat race, it always feels like we don’t have enough. That’s the trap.
There’s always a newer phone, a bigger house, a fancier vacation — something just out of reach.
So we keep running. Not because we truly need more, but because we’ve
been made to believe we should have more. And that belief is what keeps us stuck.
Most of us aren’t chasing out of necessity — we’re chasing out of insecurity.
We’re not upgrading our lives — we’re upgrading our image.
We’re not earning just to live — we’re earning to feel important, to keep up, to feel safe.
This is where Taoism offers something powerful: Contentment isn’t laziness — it’s strength.
When you realize you don’t need as much as you thought, the race starts to lose its grip.
Try this simple practice: Look at your monthly expenses.
No guilt — just honesty. What do you actually need?
Food, shelter, health, and real joy. Now look at what you’re spending just
to feel better or look better — things bought out of boredom, stress, or pressure to impress.
Old subscriptions. Clothes you rarely wear. Takeout you don’t even enjoy.
You don’t have to give it all up right away. Start small — cancel one thing, skip one habit,
let go of one "status" buy. Do that and you’ll notice
something start to settle inside you — a kind of quiet you haven’t felt in a while.
You begin to see that you’re not trapped in the cycle of earning more just to maintain a life that
doesn’t reflect what really matters to you. You realise you don’t have to keep proving
your worth through your job title, your salary, or the things you own.
When your life demands less, it creates space — space for time,
space for presence joy, and space for the feeling of actually being present here.
4: Let Go of the Finish Line Lao Tzu once wrote;
“Care about people’s approval and you will be their prisoner.”
We often tell ourselves we're chasing success — but look closer, and you’ll
see it’s not just about results. It’s about recognition.
We want the promotion, yes — but we also want others to notice it. We want success, but we
want it to be seen, acknowledged, praised. That need is what keeps us running — one achievement
after another, without ever really feeling done. In the rat race, there’s no finish line. Just
more goals. More comparison. More noise. But Taoism offers a powerful alternative:
detach from the outcome. Not because outcomes don’t matter — they do.
But the obsession with them drains your peace and takes the joy out of the work, eventually turning
everything into a means to an end. Think about your own life.
How often do you create something — a report, a reel, a pitch — post something online? Not
because you care about it, but because you’re hoping it gets noticed? Because you want a like,
a reaction, a result of some kind? When you’re that focused on the result,
the whole process becomes stressful and you stop enjoying it. And when the result doesn’t go your
way? You crash, burnt-out in a pool of your own self-doubt — frustrated, self-doubting, burnt out.
Now imagine doing the same work, but for a different reason.
You still care. You still give your best. But you’re not doing it to prove anything. You’re
not clinging to how people will respond. You’re present, focused and doing it
well — because that in itself feels meaningful. That’s what detachment is.
It’s not about giving up. It’s about letting go of control over things you
can’t control — like outcomes, opinions, reactions. Like outcomes to events,
people’s reactions, their opinions and so on. So Do your job — but don’t do it to chase validation.
Say what you need to say — but let go of how others respond.
Share your work — but stop tying your self-worth to the applause.
The moment you stop trying to arrive somewhere, you realize that you were
never behind to begin with. 5: Stop Fighting Who You Are
To quote Lao Tzu: “The wise adapt like water — they find
their shape by returning to their essence.” In the rat race, we’re constantly
pushed to become something we’re not. We’re told to hustle like entrepreneurs,
lead like loud extroverts, grind like machines. Be more productive. More competitive.
More like them. But the more we try to fit
into a version of life that isn’t ours, the more distant we become from ourselves. Something starts
to crack—not because we’re weak or unmotivated, but because we’re exhausted from pretending.
However, Taoism offers a completely different approach:
Don’t force yourself into someone else’s flow. Find your own.
Look at your life honestly — your work, your schedule, your goals.
Ask yourself: What feels natural to me?
Where do I feel most at ease, most me? And conversely, where am I forcing it?
Where am I putting on a mask just to keep up?
Start there. Even small shifts make a difference.
If your work feels like noise and pressure, carve out time for quieter, deeper focus.
If your job expects you to constantly talk, sell, or perform then start protecting your personal
time and space. Set boundaries. Find a rhythm that supports your mind instead of burning it out.
This doesn’t mean you quit everything overnight. It means
you start adjusting — steadily, intentionally. Because when you begin aligning with your nature,
you stop burning energy trying to be someone else. You stop performing.
And you start feeling at home in your own skin. You don’t need to “get better” at the rat race.
You need to realize that the race was never designed with you in mind — and that it’s
okay to walk your own path. That’s not weakness. That’s self-respect.
6: Let Go of Comparison Consider this from Lao Tzu…
“Care about people’s approval and you will be their prisoner.”
Most of us are not tired just because we work hard, but because we’re constantly trying to
keep up. You scroll through your phone and see others doing more, earning more, traveling more.
And even if you don’t say it out loud, you will always believe —
“I’m behind.” But behind what?
Most of us didn’t choose the race we’re in. We just got swept into it. You know how it
goes… School. Job. Promotion. Marriage. House. Kids, etc. Standard life stuff.
One step led to the next — not always because we wanted it, but because it was expected.
And somewhere along the way, we stopped asking: Does this actually feel right for me?
Instead, we started measuring ourselves by how well we’re keeping up.
And just like that, life becomes performance. Taoism gives us a gentle reminder:
Your path is your path. You don’t need to want what they want.
You don’t need to move at their speed. And your worth isn’t defined by comparison.
So here’s something simple you can do: Look at what you're feeding your mind.
What are you watching? Who are you following? What kind of people are you silently
measuring yourself against? If something consistently makes
you feel like you’re not enough — mute it. Unfollow the noise. And once you clear
that space, fill it with something real: Go for a walk. Listen to music that makes you
happy. Talk to people who don’t care about status. Spend time around things that don’t need to
be posted to feel meaningful. But critically, remind yourself
that not everything valuable is loud. Not everything beautiful needs attention.
The rat race thrives on comparison. It keeps you chasing something by convincing
you that you’re never quite there. That someone else is always ahead.
But the moment you stop playing that game — you’re free.
You’re not late. You’re not failing. You’re not behind. You’re just living
at your own pace, in your own direction. And that’s exactly where you’re supposed to be.
7. Live Closer to Nature In our final quote from Lao
Tzu for this video, he says; “Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.”
The tree doesn’t force its fruit. The clouds don’t compete with the stars.
The seasons don’t ask for permission to change. But we humans have drifted far from that rhythm.
Most of us live in a world that pulls us into artificial urgency — notifications,
deadlines, flashing lights. We're always wired. Always
reachable, Always connected… Always on. And we’ve started to believe that this is
just how life is. But it’s not.
Taoism reminds us that when we lose our connection to nature,
we start losing connection to ourselves. Because nature isn’t just something “out
there” — it’s inside us… We are nature! We’re walking around in clothes, with schedules and
phones, trying to remember who we are, but we’re still part of nature - we’re still made of the
stuff of the universe. You can feel this most
when you slow down and hear the wind. When you sit near trees and realize — they’re
not in a hurry, but they’re alive. They grow, they adapt, they give, and they rest.
They don’t question their place in the world. They just are.
Living closer to nature doesn’t just mean going for a hike once a week.
It’s a way of remembering a forgotten rhythm. It could be:
Waking up with the sun, not your phone. Eating food that grew from the earth,
not something from a packet. Taking ten minutes in
silence before starting your day. Watching the moon rise instead of a YouTube video.
Walking barefoot, without music, just listening. These small shifts reconnect you.
They remind your nervous system that it doesn’t have to be in survival mode all
the time. Life is already enough — if you just slow down enough to feel it.
If you enjoyed this video, please make sure to check out our full philosophies
for life playlist and for more videos to help you find success and happiness using
beautiful philosophical wisdom, don’t forget to subscribe. Thanks so much for watching.
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