Yin and Yang
When we’re stuck or unhappy, it’s easy to see the world in black and white—hope or fear, success or failure, right or wrong. Western thinking, influenced by Aristotle, teaches us to analyze and categorize: break things apart to understand them. And that has its place. This very site is organized into sections, and I analyzed Taoism before I ever considered writing about it.
But Lao Tzu didn’t organize his teachings like that. The Tao Te Ching resists analysis. Its verses are non-linear, ideas recur and intertwine, and just when you think you’ve grasped a concept, the text shifts, revealing another layer. That’s because life itself is not neatly categorized—it is one great, interwoven whole.
In truth, we cannot understand anything in isolation. I can’t know who I am without considering my relationships. I can’t fully value health unless I’ve been sick. Even the brightness of a light bulb depends on the light already in the room. Taoism teaches that the qualities we often treat as opposites—good and bad, strong and weak—are not truly separate. They’re interdependent, two sides of the same coin.
This is the meaning behind the Yin Yang symbol. A hill is one object, but it has both a sunlit and a shadowed side. In my own life, I grew up in poverty with a mother who worked three jobs and gave us what she could—once, just a Seventeen magazine and two yards of fabric for Christmas. We lived on the edge of great wealth, and I often felt ashamed and excluded. But that contrast—being shut out of material abundance while surrounded by love and deep thought—shaped who I became. It gave me insight, gratitude, and a yearning for what truly matters. It was, though painful, one of life’s greatest gifts.
Viktor Frankl, one of the most important psychotherapists of the 20th century, experienced the power of non-duality while imprisoned in a World War II concentration camp. He came from an established Jewish family, and was a thoughtful, bright, moral person who was stripped of everything that made up his life and identity and herded like an animal into the camps like so many others similar to him during the Holocaust. How could such a dark event have a bright side, we ask? His dignity was stripped away more and more each day, yet instead of succumbing to despair and anger like many around him did, he chose to hold on to hope and observe. One thing he noticed was that some prisoners seemed to maintain a sense of calm even in the midst of such pain and suffering. Others, though writhed in their agony and really seemed to make their situation worth. Some even let go of their morality and joined their captors in their gruesome torture of the others, who had once been their friends. Through that deep observation, he arrived at a life-altering insight: even in the midst of profound suffering, we retain one essential freedom—the ability to choose our response to what life gives us. Any of us--rich, poor, bright, average, strong, weak, ill or full of health--can surrender to darkness, or we can hold fast to our sense of goodness - and hope - and rise above it. Perhaps you've never heard of Frankl, but chances are your life has been touched by his ideas and theories, ideas that wouldn't have come to the world without his great suffering.
So it is for all of us. What first appears as unbearable pain may, in time, yield unexpected beauty. Suffering is not proof of meaninglessness—it is often an essential part of the dance.
And so, life isn’t about eliminating the “bad” and chasing the “good.” It’s not about always being strong, or productive, or even buoyantly happy. The Tao doesn’t promise ease, but it offers balance. Just as atoms depend on both positive and negative charges, life depends on the dynamic interplay of opposites. There is no light without shadow, no joy without sorrow.
When we begin to see life this way, we let go of perfectionism. We stop expecting things to go “right” all the time. We accept that reality isn’t black or white—it’s a flowing, shifting spectrum. And when we live with that awareness, when we can let go of expectations of constant progress, control and all things "good," deep peace becomes possible in even the hardest of moments.
The Nature of Reality is Change
The yin-yang symbol reminds us that nothing is fixed — all forms shift, dissolve, and return in new forms. Our task is not to stop the turning, but to find our balance within it. Though change can feel unsettling — even frightening — it is essential to the continuance of life, and to our own happiness. Many of us fear change, but everything positive about life depends on change. It's kind of like going on a trip. Sometimes we feel apprehensive about the trip. Will it be everything we imagine it will be? Will things go smoothly? Will it be worth the cost? Is it worth all the effort it takes to prepare for the trip? But usually the trip is positive, and we are happy we went. Even if things didn't go as well as planned, the trip changes us, and we grow in some way. Life becomes bigger, and we become bigger with it. Life without change would be death. We are living, breathing beings. Change is our nature.
Consider food: if we expected it to nourish us without transformation, it would be absurd. We mix ingredients, allow chemical reactions to unfold, apply heat, and the result is something nourishing and delicious. Without that process, we would have no meal, no sustenance. Life works the same way. To improve, to support what is good, true, and alive, there must be change. Transformation is not the enemy of stability — it is the force that makes stability possible. When we remember this, change becomes less of a threat and more of an invitation — an opening for growth, renewal, and the arrival of positive forces we cannot yet see.
When we accept that change is constant and that life is in continual flow, we also accept the natural ebb and flow of our own energy and focus. Just as seasons alternate between growth and rest, our days contain moments for action and moments for stillness. It is unrealistic — and unkind to ourselves — to expect constant productivity. Our minds, hearts, and bodies need time to recharge. Sometimes the most productive choice is to step away, breathe, and do nothing at all. This understanding also transforms how we relate to others. Just as we have our own rhythms, so do they. When we honor the cycles in ourselves and in those around us, we create space for patience, compassion, and genuine connection.
At the same time, the key to remaining peaceful through change is holding to our center. The Tao Te Ching gives us a powerful metaphor when it tells us that the most important part of a wheel is the center. Verse 11 says
Thirty spokes share a single hub;
It is the empty space at the center that makes the wheel useful.
The wheel can be rolling quickly. The spokes of the wheel seem to move in a flurry as that wheel makes its way down the road. And yet - in the center of that flurry holding everything together is the quiet center. We can be that quiet center if we trust the Tao, let go of expectations, stay rooted in the present moment, and choose to observe and allow our dust to settle rather than be rattled and consumed by the changes around us.
Yin and Yang: The Core Duality
The two fundamental and opposing energies of life are yin and yang. They are opposite yet inseparable, forever rising, falling, and shaping one another. Understanding the qualities of each helps us understand our own internal rhythms and our natural responses to the world and to life.
Yang energy is active, firm, hot, expanding, advancing, attacking, open, leading. It is associated with the sun, with light, with fire, and with the masculine principle. Yin energy, by contrast, is quiet, still, yielding, receptive, dark, cool, defending, following, diminishing. It is aligned with the moon, with darkness, with water, and with the eternal feminine.
You may want to pause here and think about how yin and yang manifest in your life. Do you tend to favor one energy over the other? Why? Many in the western world place more value on yang. Why is this? How would introducing more yin into your life help you?
Balancing Yin and Yang
Although harmony depends on the balance of these two forces, the Tao Te Ching counsels us invites us to “hold on" to yin. It says
Know the masculine,
yet keep to the feminine.
Become the valley of the world. (Verse 28, paraphrased)
At first, this didn't make sense to me. Shouldn't the forces be equal? How can we achieve anything if we default to being passive and weak?
But when we dig deeper, this makes intuitive sense: the natural resting state of all things is yin, and the activating, outward-moving state is yang. When we rest in yin, we allow clarity to arise on its own. Only when right action becomes unmistakable do we move into yang—swiftly, directly, and without inner conflict. As verse -- says, "
If we try to live in perpetual yang, always pushing, advancing, or forcing outcomes, our actions tend to be driven by ego or fear. When we settle into the present moment and trust what is, right action emerges naturally, without strain.
Modern notions of “progress” often reverse this wisdom. We are told: “If it is to be, it’s up to me,” “No pain, no gain,” and “If you don’t know where you’re going, any path will take you there.” These are deeply yang-based philosophies. They assume that the individual, not the Tao, is in charge—and that constant effort is the only path to meaning or success.
Taoism offers the opposite insight: that by doing less, we arrive where we need to be. By holding to our yin nature most of the time and letting the Tao lead—which it does whether we acknowledge it or not—we are carried forward gently, one small wave of insight at a time.
Questions for Reflection
How does yang manifest in your life? How does yin manifest in your life?
Do you see times when excessive yang or excessive yin caused problems? Looking back, how would you adjust your approach based on your understanding of yin and yang energies?
Consider the troubling situations in your life right now. Are you embracing yin or yang in those situations? How would an adjustment help you?
Consider past experiences in your life that you considered negative at the time. Did these experiences create any positive outcomes for you that you might not be appreciating?
Consider a time in your life when an unexpected change presented itself. How did you feel about the change at the time? How did that change end up benefitting you?
Although nature is in a constant state of change, many forces remain constant. What within yourself remains constant even though you and your situation in life may change? How can you draw on those constants to remain at peace even in the midst of change?
Yin and Yang in Other Traditions