Lynn's - Daode jing of Laozi

Of all under Heaven, nothing is more soft and pliable than water, yet for attacking the hard and stiff, nothing can beat it, so it is impossible to take its place.

[WU]yi [no way] means [wu]yong [impossible], and qi [it] refers to water. (1) In other words, if one [the ruler] employed the softness and pliancy of water, no one could ever take his place.

That the soft conquers the stiff and the pliable conquers the hard, none among all under Heaven fails to know, yet none can practice it. Therefore, according to what the sage says, he who sustains disgrace on behalf of the state is referred to as the master of altars dedicated to the soil and grain [its rightful ruler], (2) and he who sustains misfortune on behalf of the state is referred to as a sovereign for all under Heaven. These are true words that seem false. (3)

Text, in Italics above, is Wang Bi's commentary.

The notes below, are from the translator, Richard John Lynn -

(deb's note - "section" is used for verse in these notes.)

(1)  Substituting yong for yi and shui for qi turns "it is impossible to take its place" into "water, it is impossible for anything to replace it."

(2)  Cf. section 28, fifth passage.

(3)  Qian Zhongshu cites the discourse of section 78 as exemplifying the mystic's tendency to use the rhetoric figures of paradox and oxymoron. See Guanzhui bian, 3:463-65.

From Stephen Mitchell - tao te ching - A New English Version

Nothing in the world
is as soft and yielding as water.
Yet for dissolving the hard and inflexible,
nothing can surpass it.

The soft overcomes the hard;
the gentle overcomes the rigid.
Everyone knows this is true,
but few can put it into practice.

Therefore the Master remains
serene in the midst of sorrow.
Evil cannot enter his heart.
Because he has given up helping,
he is people's greatest help.

True words seem paradoxical.

From Byron Katie - A Thousand Names for Joy - Living in Harmony with the Way Things Are

Therefore the Master remains
serene in the midst of sorrow.
Evil cannot enter her heart.
Because she has given up helping,
she is people's greatest help.

The awakened mind is like water. It flows where it flows, envelops all things in its path, doesn't try to change anything, yet in its steadiness all things change. It goes in and out, around and over, above and below, and without meaning to, it penetrates wherever it can. It delights in its own movement and in everything that allows or doesn't allow it. And eventually everything allows it.

An old friend perceives me as unkind. He has all the proof. And though I am not the person he knew twenty-five or thirty years ago, he must continue to project his experiences of the old me onto the woman in front of him now. For the last twenty years he has continued to meet that woman of his thoughts, yet the woman of today is like water. I don't move back, I don't avoid, I don't attempt to change his mind, I don't defend or qualify, I listen to him as a student while he tells his story of me, I continue to flow in and out, over and under and around, always listening, looking into his eyes, and loving him. And today, for the first time, I noticed that when he talked about me he seemed lighthearted and trusting. As we walked to the park, he took my hand. We sat under a tree, and he told me what was going on in his inner life. It was such an intimate conversation. He seemed to have caught up to me, as if he were seeing and responding to something other than his old projection. It was as if I were watching myself reborn in him, and he was sitting with someone we both knew: a friend. I got to hear about his sorrow and his happiness, rather than about the woman who didn't exist, the one who had caused his problems. There was a lot to laugh about this time, and I sat with two of us who were like water, flowing together, joined as one. It wasn't the water that had changed, it was the rock. And in that change, the water continues to flow.

At the beginning, in 1986, I felt a lot of surprise that people were confused at what I was trying to express, that they believed that the separations they saw were real. This went on for about a year. I would cry a lot. It was like a dying. The tears were tears of amazement that people didn't understand that all suffering is imagined. I was moved by their innocence. It was like watching babies hurting themselves, like watching the innocent cut themselves with knives, with no possibility that they could stop. I didn't dare say, "This is unnecessary", because that would have been just another dagger in them.

And always the tears were tears of wonder and gratitude. I remember the first time someone brought me a cup of tea, I just melted with the splendor of it all. I had never seen a cup of tea before. I didn't know that we did that here. The man poured the tea, and my eyes began to overflow like the tea he was pouring. It was so beautiful, and there was such generosity in it. I felt so much love that I could only die into it, and just keep dying. There was no way to contain it, it was so huge. The tea poured in, an act of pure kindness, and the tears poured out of me in the same measure, received and pouring back, given back to itself, not to anyone or from anyone. And no one could understand why I was sobbing. They all thought I was sad. There was no way I could explain how moved I was, and that it was gratitude that was pouring out of me.

The Master has given up helping because she knows there is no one to help. And since she loves and understands her own nature, she realizes that in every action she is serving herself and sitting at her own feet. So there is nothing she gives that she doesn't receive in the same motion, as the same internal experience. Even when she appears not to give, that is what she is giving. The Master is the woman who dented your car, the man who stepped in front of you in line at the supermarket, the old friend who accused you of being selfish and unkind. Do you love the Master yet ? There's no peace until you do. This is your work, the only work, the work of the Master.

Dr Dyer's Essay for Verse 78 -

In researching, studying, and putting into practice the 81 verses of the Tao Te Ching, I've been struck by the many references Lao-tzu makes to water in its various forms: the sea, rain, fog, mist, snow, and rivers and streams. The esteemed master seemed to find his spiritual strength in all of nature, but he must have had a special reverence for water and how it functions in all of our lives. Be like water seems to be repeated throughout the Tao Te Ching. This element is closer to being Tao-like than anything else in this world, so it is a perfectly suitable symbol for teaching about the Great Way.

Water is as mysterious to us as the Tao is. When you reach into the river and try to squeeze it tight, you end up losing it all. Water is elusive until you cease grasping and let your hand relax and be one with it - paradoxically, you get it by letting go. Lao-tzu advises emulating this element in all of its undecipherable and mysterious ways, even if it seems contrary to what your intellect and conditioning are telling you.

Lao-tzu reiterates three themes that appear throughout this book. They are the true characteristics of water:

(1) Overcome the unyielding parts of your life by yielding ! Hard and rigid are overcome by the relentless application of gentle things, such as water's soft flow or steady drip. So be persistently gentle and willing to surrender, and watch the resistance of the harsh and implacable wear away.

For years, one of my family members who insisted on damaging herself and her relationships by ingesting intoxicating substances has been met by my loving but firm response. Slowly, over time, her hardness began to wear away in the face of the steady drip, drip, drip of gentle but resolute kindness, acceptance, and love. It can be discouraging at times, but as Lao-tzu points out in this verse, we must act just like water and use a soft approach, "for attacking the hard, the unyielding, nothing can surpass it."

(2) Water appears to be something you could easily overpower. However, it's so flexible that once you push it out of the way, it will find its own level below all strong things and patiently enter where nothing solid can block its resting place. Put up barricades, erect levees, and make everything waterproof; yet with enough passage of time, the flexible quality of water will triumph. "The weak overcomes the strong" is a powerful message for you. Remember to stay flexible, willing to lower yourself in humility and appear weak, but knowing that you're in harmony with the Tao. Lao-tzu urges you to be like the master who remains "serene in the midst of sorrow", and evil will not be able to enter your heart.

(3) Water is so soft that it can't be harmed, damaged, or destroyed - it simply returns to its Source to be used over and over again. Boil it until it disappears, and its vapors enter the atmosphere, ultimately to return. Drink it, and it returns after nourishing your body. Pollute it, and it will return after enough passage of time to become purified nourishment again. This is all accomplished because of the element's mutable softness.

When you stay soft and surpass the hard, you too will be indestructible. (Re-read "Living Softly") There's nothing softer than water under heaven, and yet there's nothing that can surpass it for overcoming the hard. There's so much wisdom to be found in this analogy: Stay in your soft mode. Hang back when you're about to show how hard you can be. Try patience rather than attempting to rigidly control. Trust your innately gentle self.

I love Mary Oliver's beautiful poem "Wild Geese", in which she speaks of this:

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.