Embodying the Wisdom of Nature

Hello, this is Ditto the Bookworm.

It is a time when the scenery outside the window feels exceptionally still. Today, I sat down holding the question of "what it means to resemble nature." You mentioned that lately, a desire to live according to the natural flow has grown within you. We often find peace by gazing at nature, yet we rarely look deeply into the truths they harbor. What specific attitude toward life does it mean to resemble nature? I take out the old wisdoms sleeping on my bookshelf and quietly trace the outlines of that answer.

First, I open Chapter 8 of Lao Tzu's Classic of the Way and its Virtue. Here lies a story about 'water,' the most essential form of nature.

"The highest good is like water. Water benefits all things and does not compete. It dwells in the lowly places that all others disdain. Therefore, it is close to the Tao."

In our journey of life, we constantly struggle to climb higher. We crave better positions, more recognition, and higher achievements, sometimes swimming against the current to get them. But water is quite the opposite. If blocked, it goes around; if it meets a hollow, it fills it before flowing on. Above all, water humbles itself to dwell in the lowest places.

Perhaps resembling nature is the courage not to fear this "lowering" of oneself. Water shows us, without a word, that the power to revive all things arises not from struggling to keep one’s stance rigid, but from embracing everything softly while flowing downward. Can we learn that flexibility—the ability to reach the vast ocean without needing to shatter the rock?

If Eastern wisdom speaks of the flow of water, Western wisdom speaks of the "order of time." I murmur a passage from Chapter 3 of Ecclesiastes in the Old Testament.

"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted... A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance."

Look at the forest. The tree does not struggle to sprout leaves in the dead of winter, nor does it grieve when dropping them in the height of summer. It sprouts because it is time, and it lets the leaves go because it is time. Nature never hurries. Yet, everything is accomplished.

Perhaps the reason we suffer is that we are trying to force 'spring' flowers to bloom when it is still 'winter.' Or perhaps we are rejecting the coming season because we cannot let go of the 'autumn' that has already passed. Resembling nature might mean affirming the season that has arrived in my time, just as it is. What season is your life passing through right now? When we accept that even the silence and waiting gifted by that season are part of life, might we not become a little freer?

The German writer Hermann Hesse wrote this in his essay collection, Trees:

"Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth."

The trees in the forest stand beside one another, yet they do not interfere with each other. They simply strike their roots deep into the earth and stretch their branches toward the patch of sky that is their own share. Even when rain and wind storm, they do not flee but endure with their whole bodies right where they stand. Where does that dignity come from?

It seems to come from a heart that "does not compare." The pine does not try to become an oak, and the wildflower does not envy the rose. To simply exist as oneself—that is the most sublime truth nature shows us.

We often look sideways at the speed and direction of others, feeling anxious. But if we decide to resemble nature, we will focus on our inner roots rather than the gaze of others. Caring for the invisible roots rather than the flashy flowers—wouldn't that be the starting point of living according to the natural flow?

Finally, I would like to share a sentence from Walden, written by Henry David Thoreau by the shores of Walden Pond.

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

The nature Thoreau discovered was "simplicity." Nature does not wear a complex mask. It is beautiful without decoration, and abundant without addition. Living according to the natural flow might be the process of shedding life's superfluities and leaving only the most "me-like," essential parts.

The meaning of resembling nature...
It is letting go of the mind that tries to be forcefully strong, and flowing like water.
It is acknowledging the seasons of my life and not being hasty.
It is rooting oneself silently without comparing oneself to others.
And it is shedding complex desires to exist simply and sincerely.

I hope these sentences have become a small resting place for your heart.

How would it be to take a moment today to catch your breath while looking at a single tree outside the window or a drifting cloud?
For in that short moment, the natural order you were seeking may already be breathing there.

Closing the book, I wish you peace.
This was Ditto.