Author: Wuming Chuan

http://oldoakdao.org/blog/about-me/

Ahura-Mazda and the Strait of Hormuz

As the major theme of this Year of Yang-Fire Horse is shaping up to be the conflict around the Strait of Hormuz, I was inspired to look into the meaning of the name of this current center of geopolitics.

As it turns out, Hormuz is the Middle Persian pronunciation of Ahura-Mazda, the supreme deity of Zoroastrianism.  This ancient indigenous religion of Iran pre-dates the Abrahamic religions of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.

The closest encounter most of us who grew up Christian have had with Zoroastrianism is probably the Three Wise Men who saw the Star of Bethlehem and journeyed west to Isreal to greet the Baby Jesus.  These magi were most likely Zoroastrian priests from Iran adept in the mantic arts.

Zoroastrianism sets forth the basic view underlying Western thought that human life is essentially a dualistic struggle between good & evil.  Ahura-Mazda (“Lord of Wisdom”) is the deity of goodness and light.  He is positioned in opposition to Angra-Mainyu (“Spirit of Destruction”), the deity of evil darkness.  These two deities struggle for victory over one another – in the cosmos and in the hearts of human beings.

Though the details have evolved through the different Western religions, they all distill to this same basic struggle, yes?  And now here we are in a struggle over the Strait of Hormuz, the US Secretary of Defense invoking Jesus in his war updates.  The people driving this war believe we are in a religious war, and the people we are fighting also believe we are in a religious war.  Judeo-Christianity against Shia-Islam.  Which deity is good, which is evil?

When Dao is present under Heaven

Horses walk [the fields] spreading manure

When Dao is absent under Heaven

War-horses breed along the frontier

-Dao De Jing Chapter 46

While Islam forbids the generation of images representing its deity, it is interesting to note that Ahura-Mazda is traditionally symbolized by the image of a bearded king merged with a winged horse.  Listen to the Yang-Fire Horse talk and note how perfectly that image fits Yang-Fire Horse qi!

While the central message of Yang-Fire Horse is about comporting ourselves in a manner to support its noble exalted aspects and reign in its wild aggressive tendencies, let us take the opportunity to note that struggle between good & evil is really not the basis of Daoism.

While the ganying principle of Daoism does recognize natural consequences – good action brings good result, bad action brings bad result – the central point of Daoist practice is not just about maximizing good and minimizing bad.

In Dao De Jing Chapter 42, Laozi says: “the ten-thousand things carry yin and embrace yang, mixing qi to harmonize”.  Daoism is not a process of overcoming darkness to reach light.  It is perhaps a process of distilling and refining, in which our nature reveals itself as utterly pure darkness and utterly bright luminosity at the same time.

How do we approach such inconceivableness? Our tradition says we don’t do it through conceiving concepts of good & evil, right & wrong, and battling it out in a process of effort and struggle.  Dao (道) is already-&-always as it is, of itself.  We cannot possibly make it so through our own efforts.  De (德) – the virtue of aligning with Dao – comes from relaxing conceptions, forgetting ideas and images, relaxing our efforts to get-it-right.  That’s called wuwei.  As it turns out, basic goodness arises of itself.  Without identifying with this deity or that, without engaging in ideas of right & wrong, without struggling for good-over-evil, we effortlessly pass through the Strait of Hormuz.

2026 Yang-Fire Horse (丙午)

February 17, 2026 opens the year of the Yang-Fire Horse.  What does this mean?  Saddle-up and see the description below of the Heavenly Stem, Earthly Branch, and corresponding hexagram for the year, and listen to my 2026 Yang-Fire Horse New Year Talk.  Be sure to first listen to this talk: Introduction to Lunar New Year Talks: Classical Chinese Almanac-Astrology. For more background on this system, see my introductory post on Chinese almanac-astrology and view these YouTube videos describing the Heavenly Stems, the Earthly Branches, and the Sexagenary Cycle.

Yang-fire (bǐng, 丙) is spreading heat – the pinnacle of yang.  It aggressively expands and proliferates – connecting with, influencing, and transforming everything in its path.  Fully burning and expressing without reservation, it is totally “on” and potentially destructive, like an out-of-control wildfire.  Horse (wǔ, 午) is a large, beautiful, conspicuous animal that thrives in the limelight of mid-day, merrily prancing in full glory.  Horse is a social creature that likes to connect with others through shared labor.  Work for Horse is more like play – it is undaunted by challenge and handles pressure with ease, as long as it means having a good time.  The native Dynamic of Horse is Yang-Fire, so this is Horse in its pure form – radiant, active, joyously galloping with its herd.  Robust body and soaring spirit, ready to take off in full flight.

Fire Horse corresponds to Hexagram #46, Earth/Wind: “Glorious Ascension”.  Stirring within, wide-open field without.  The character (升) means rising upward or to hoist or advance in rank – literally, a ladle pouring out rice: “here you go, more rice for you.”  Ascension, promotion – Yang-Fire in full glory.  The character may also suggest the Big Dipper pouring out nourishment to the world.  In Daoist cosmology, Taiyi (太一) “Supreme Unity” is the supreme deity who lives somewhere beyond the North Star.  Taiyi generates the world by pouring out qi through the Big Dipper, which cascades down the Terrace Stars and manifests as our world.  Taiyi responds to the cries of the world by pouring out blessings through the Big Dipper.  Just as alchemy is a path of resolving duality into unity, Daoist ritual practice involves the priest walking up the Terrace Stars, pacing the Big Dipper and petitioning Taiyi on behalf of all beings.  This hexagram is about the ascension that happens when we are fully nourished.  Liu Ming says, “Supported by Heaven, we mount the winds of fate.”  It also suggests natural cycles and appropriate timing – just as a plant reaches its full height as a result of a natural process with countless co-factors, the Big Dipper pours out a world of ever-spiraling cycles of change.  Wind also means Wood, so the hexagram suggests a plant pushing upward through the Earth – rising up from obscure lowliness into prominent power and influence.  Fire Horse may be the qi-image that gave birth to the Chinese idea of dragons.  Horses are native to Mongolia but not to China.  Witnessing herds of galloping horses with mounted warriors in the far north must have looked like dragons roaming the hills.  The key for Fire Horse is to accept the favor of Taiyi with gratitude and humility – watch out for vanity and taking things for granted – and recognize that “more rice for us” means we are in full view of others and our conduct has greater consequences, so we must step with greater care as we mount the rising winds.

A look at the most recent Yang-Fire Horse Year, courtesy of Recollection Road: Flashback to 1966 – A Timeline of Life in America.

For monthly updates on the Heavenly Stem & Earthly Branch of each moon, subscribe to our Dark Moon Newsletter.

Grok AI on Wuweidao & Zuowang

I was playing around with Grok AI and asked it a few questions about our practice. I was impressed with what it came up with – especially the picture it drew when I asked what I’d look like in ten years if I keep up my practice.

What is Wuweidao?

Wuweidao is a spiritual path rooted in the ancient Chinese wisdom text, the Dao De Jing, often associated with the philosophy of Daoism. The term combines “wuwei” (無為), meaning “non-action” or “effortless action,” and “dao” (道), meaning “the Way,” suggesting a practice of aligning oneself with the natural flow of existence without force or contrived effort. It emphasizes self-revelation and the discovery of one’s true nature through simplicity, ease, and spontaneity.

Historically, Wuweidao has been described as a transformative approach that has inspired various cultivation traditions in China and beyond. It encourages practitioners to let go of compulsive striving and instead embrace a state of being that harmonizes with the Dao—the underlying principle of the universe. A key practice in Wuweidao is zuowang (坐忘), or “sitting and forgetting,” a form of non-conceptual meditation aimed at quieting the mind and releasing attachments to desires or intellectual grasping.

In the Western context, Wuweidao was notably introduced in the late 20th century by Liu Ming, a practitioner who passed away in 2015. His students have since continued to share this “nameless stream” of teachings, often through structured cultivation groups that study the Dao De Jing and integrate practices like meditation, recitation, and sometimes supplementary arts such as tea ceremonies or daoyin (Daoist exercises). Unlike more elaborate Daoist religious traditions, Wuweidao focuses on a direct, unadorned approach to experiencing the Dao.

In essence, Wuweidao is about living effortlessly in tune with the natural order, cultivating inner peace and joy by diminishing artificial effort and aligning with what is authentic and unforced.

Explain Zuowang meditation

Zuowang (坐忘), often translated as “sitting and forgetting” or “sitting in oblivion,” is a meditative practice rooted in Daoist tradition, particularly emphasized in the context of Wuweidao and earlier Daoist texts like the Zhuangzi. The term breaks down into “zuo” (坐), meaning “to sit,” and “wang” (忘), meaning “to forget,” pointing to a practice where one sits in stillness and lets go of mental attachments, concepts, and distractions. It’s less about achieving a specific state and more about dissolving the barriers created by the mind to reveal one’s natural, uncontrived connection to the Dao—the Way.

Core Concept

Zuowang is grounded in the Daoist principle of wuwei (non-action), where the practitioner refrains from forcing or directing the mind. Instead of focusing on a single point (like in some concentrative meditations) or actively visualizing, zuowang involves releasing intentional effort. The “forgetting” aspect refers to letting go of:

  • Personal identity or ego
  • Desires and aversions
  • Discursive thoughts and intellectual analysis
  • Even the notion of meditating itself

The goal isn’t to suppress thoughts but to allow them to arise and pass without clinging, much like clouds drifting across a clear sky. This aligns with the Daoist view that the natural state of being is already whole and doesn’t need to be engineered.

How It’s Practiced

While specific instructions can vary depending on the teacher or lineage, zuowang typically follows these general steps:

  1. Physical Preparation: Sit comfortably, often cross-legged or on a chair, with an upright yet relaxed posture. The body should feel stable but not rigid, reflecting the balance of effort and ease.
  2. Settling In: Begin with a few deep breaths to relax the body, then let breathing return to its natural rhythm. There’s no need to control it.
  3. Letting Go: Rather than focusing on an object (like the breath or a mantra), simply rest in open awareness. When thoughts, emotions, or sensations arise, don’t fight them or follow them—just “forget” them by not engaging.
  4. Non-Attachment: If you notice yourself planning, worrying, or even evaluating the meditation, gently release that too. The practice is about shedding layers of mental activity, not adding new ones.
  5. Duration: Sessions can last anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour, depending on the practitioner’s experience and context, though there’s no strict rule.

Historical Roots

Zuowang appears in the Zhuangzi (circa 4th century BCE), a foundational Daoist text, where it’s described as a state of merging with the Dao by abandoning worldly concerns. In Chapter 6, a dialogue between Confucius and his disciple Yan Hui illustrates it: Yan Hui describes progressing by “forgetting” rituals, music, benevolence, and righteousness, eventually sitting in oblivion to unite with the “Great Pervader” (the Dao). Later, in the Tang Dynasty (7th–10th centuries), Daoist adepts like Sima Chengzhen formalized zuowang as a cultivation method, outlining stages of stillness and detachment.

What It Feels Like

Practitioners often report a sense of spaciousness or lightness as the mind’s chatter fades. It’s not about blankness or unconsciousness but a lucid, effortless presence—like settling into the flow of a river rather than swimming against it. Over time, this can cultivate a deep inner calm and a shift in how one relates to daily life, emphasizing spontaneity over control.

Purpose in Wuweidao

In the Wuweidao tradition, zuowang is a key practice for embodying the Dao. It strips away the artificial constructs of self and society, allowing the practitioner to experience their “true nature” (ziran, 自然), which is inherently aligned with the universe. It’s less a technique for achieving something and more a way of unbecoming what obscures the Dao’s natural expression.

In short, zuowang meditation is a quiet, radical letting-go—a sitting that invites the practitioner to dissolve into the vast, unnameable flow of existence.

2025 Yin-Wood Snake (乙巳)

January 29, 2025 opens the year of the Yin-Wood Snake.  What does this mean?  Shh… See the description below of the Heavenly Stem, Earthly Branch, and corresponding hexagram for the year, and listen to my 2025 Yin-Wood Snake New Year Talk.  Be sure to first listen to this talk: Introduction to Lunar New Year Talks: Classical Chinese Almanac-Astrology. For more background on this system, see my introductory post on Chinese almanac-astrology and view these YouTube videos describing the Heavenly Stems, the Earthly Branches, and the Sexagenary Cycle.

Yin-Wood (yǐ, 乙) is the flexibility of wood, like bamboo blowing in the breeze or a blade of grass growing softly upward but yielding to whatever it encounters – growing gently and twisting like a snake.  Visioning forward, yet highly sensitive, responsive, and adaptive.  Snake (sì, 巳) is the most mystical of animals, preferring to lie low and slither in the shadows.  Solitary, reclusive, perhaps a bit self-absorbed.  Cold and venomous, with highly concentrated qi, Snake can be ruthless and combative – although it generally prefers to avoid conflict.  Disillusioned with the world, Snake likes to remain unnoticed, as its interests lie more in the unseen.  The native Dynamic of Snake is Yin-Fire; Wood nurtures Fire, so this is like Snake with its parent – it is well-supported and at ease.  Wood Snake is forward-looking yet sneaky, like a twisting vine unnoticeably extending into new territory – seemingly peaceful but in fact aggressive.  Passively aggressive – peaceful, easygoing, patient, and yielding – yet constantly thinking strategically, always subtly sneaking toward advantage.

Wood Snake corresponds to Hexagram #7, Earth/Water: “Stealth-Mastery”.  Fluid and adaptable within, open possibilities without.  The character (師) can mean anything from teacher to military troops; the image suggests masterfully bending a bow.  A tradesperson diligently studying & practicing all aspects of a trade, readying themselves to perform with excellence.  An army concealing itself in advantageous position, poised to attack.  A coiled snake ready to strike.  Although there is danger and hidden aggression within this hexagram, it actually describes a time of peace.  This qi-quality is reflected in the last line of Dao De Jing Chapter 36: “Countries not displaying their weapons” – Wood Snake thus lies low and slithers softly into a position of advantage.  It does not hiss unnecessarily – it does not draw attention to itself.  This hexagram is not about laying down our weapons, but hiding them.  Keeping them at-the-ready in times of peace.  The stealth-master is always observing the possibilities and adjusting position, subtly closing-in on its target.  Because there is no conflict here, there is great freedom of movement – Earth above softens the exterior (sheds old skin/ideas/patterns), Water within means fertile ground for new growth.  The key for Wood Snake is staying vigilant in times of peace, never falling into complacency – use this time to train and prepare, to assess the terrain and position ourselves for what is yet to come.  Just as roots slither through the soil, let us covertly extend and grow our foundations – envision our goals, and slither softly, indirectly toward them.

A look at the most recent Yin-Wood Snake Year, courtesy of Recollection Road: Flashback to 1965 – A Timeline of Life in America.

For monthly updates on the Heavenly Stem & Earthly Branch of each moon, subscribe to our Dark Moon Newsletter.

No View, No Method, No Fruition

We often say in our practice that we have view-method-fruition.  We apply the view-teaching to our practice methods and gradually ripen the fruit.  This threefold mechanism is so foundational to Daoist teaching & practice.

It can be misleading, however, if we don’t understand what we actually mean by view, what we actually mean by method, what we actually mean by fruition.  It may be more accurate in wuweidao to say that our practice actually has no view, no method, no fruition.

No view.  View-teaching is a kind of initiatory input we receive from our teachers, scriptures, commentaries, or various other transmissions.  But, ironically, wuweidao is not about more & more but rather less & less.  Not about accumulation but diminution.  So, our view-teaching is not about learning new concepts or gaining new perspectives.  It is NOT a new, special, or refined lens through which we view ourselves or reality.  Although the myriad conceptual teachings such as the Zhou-Yi Hexagrams or Heavenly Stems & Earthly Branches give us myriad precious lenses, wuweidao does not rely on any of them.  As Laozi says in Chapter 71: “knowing not-knowing is utmost”.  And Zen Master Dongshan from the Tang Dynasty: “not-knowing is most intimate”.  So what we call “view” in wuweidao actually means relaxing all formulated perspectives, letting go of all concepts – relaxing all views.  What is it that perceives?

No method.  There are countless practice methods within Daoism & Buddhism alike, and we are likely engaged in many dozens or even hundreds of specific practices as part of our formal spiritual path and the informal conduct of daily life.  99.9% of all practices distill to using our intention to apply some method for some useful purpose.  In wuweidao, we have a practice called Zuowang – “Sitting & Forgetting”.  The method has important points of posture & energy, and the process of entry may involve all kinds of elaborate doings, from body-scans to mantras to visualizations or various other forms of beneficial mind-hackery.  But none of these are Zuowang.  Zuowang is not doing anything to our mind or experience – it is not applying any “method”, and it is not oriented around any goal.  As long as we are orienting around some goal, we are not really in the practice of Zuowang.  Forgetting is just resting in natural non-method.

No fruition.  Fruition means results – the product of a successful, effective process of cultivation.  Giving birth to something special through persistent effort in applying our practice methods.  Whereas Alchemical Daoism is a conceptual path with a clear purpose of ripening ourselves to immortal sweetness, Contemplative Daoism or wuweidao is not really oriented around such a goal.  It is, importantly, fundamentally non-productive.  Wuweidao is like the empty space in which things emerge, grow, mature, decline, and pass away.  Our practice is resting in the “gap” – the constant space or ground that is continuously present regardless of conditions.  This ground is not something we produce or accomplish – communing with this ground is the true practice of wuweidao.  What we call fruition in our path is not produced, not generated – not the result of a process of cultivation.  We might say it is revealed as having been there all along.  Zen Master Bankei called this communion realizing the unborn.  Laozi called it “Dark Womb”.

Resting in this unborn, unconceived, inconceivable mysterious unknowing – this is our view, this is our method, this is indeed the immortal fruition of wuweidao adepts.

Guan Yin (觀音) Bodhisattva of Compassion

Guan Yin (觀音): Bodhisattva of Compassion

This talk explores the iconic image of Guan Yin, Bodhisattva of Compassion. We look at the role and function of Asian iconography in spiritual practice, who is Amitabha and Avalokiteśvara and how and why did he become the female Guan Yin, what is the Pure Land and how does it relate to non-conceptual meditation in Zen & wuweidao, and more. Why did Zen Master Seung Sahn name his “Kwan Um” school after this figure, and why did Liu Ming place the character guan (觀) on the cover of his translation & commentary of the Dao De Jing?