The rhythm of love

To be who I am—to breathe from my heels, as Taoist master Chuang Tzu specified—it will be immediately helpful to relinquish past and future. Why? There’s no breath there. No rhythm.

Beneath the chaos

To borrow from a Trappist monk, the wisdom of Lao Tzu—conceived as his mother traced the arc of a falling star, carried in her womb for 62 years, delivered while she leaned against a plum tree—sleeps in China’s paper flesh like dynamite. “When nothing is done, nothing is left undone.” In a related development, it’s been 50 years since the Beatles released their paean of praise, Let It Be.