Show Notes
The Strength in Yielding Most people would say they're flexible. And then life actually asks them to be. This episode examines the gap between believing you're adaptable and genuinely being so — and why that gap matters more than most people realise. Drawing on one of Taoism's most quietly radical observations, that the living are soft and yielding while the dead are rigid and stiff, it traces where rigidity actually lives in a human life. Not in the obvious places. In the small daily moments where the previously decided quietly wins over the actually present. From the oak that breaks in the storm to the bamboo that bends to the ground and returns, from the external circumstances that calcify through inertia to the interior beliefs that stopped being examined years ago — this episode asks what it would mean to know the difference between what genuinely needs protecting and what is simply familiar. Also in this episode: how to talk about Taoism to people in your life without it getting strange — and a deceptively simple assignment that tells you more about your own rigidity than most extended self-examination will.
More from The Modern Taoist
You Are Not Lazy. You Are In October. | The Modern Taoist Weekend Check-In Why do you feel like slowing down when autumn arrives? Why does the couch suddenly look better than your plans, and why does going to bed early feel strangely guilty? In this Weekend Check-In, Kit Mann explores the Taoist idea of seasonal living, rest, and working with the natural rhythms of the body. Autumn has traditionally been understood as a season of consolidation, when energy begins moving inward after the expansion of spring and summer. There is a difference between nesting and hiding, between genuine restoration and simply checking out. The Taoist approach isn't about becoming less productive. It is about recognizing when forcing yourself against the conditions around you has a cost. If you're feeling more tired, introverted, reflective, or drawn toward home this October, that may not be laziness. It may be information. In this episode: Why autumn can change our sleep and energy
Every October, people feel it — the sense that the dead are closer than usual. Halloween is just the pop-culture echo of something much older: the recognition that the unseen world is real, and that this time of year carries a different weight. In this episode of The Modern Taoist, Kit Mann goes deep on what the Taoist tradition actually says about ghosts, spirits, and the afterlife — and it’s not what you’d expect. In Taoism, there is no supernatural. If something exists, it’s part of nature. Which means ghosts, spirits, and the unseen world aren’t outside the framework. They’re part of it. Kit walks through the classical Chinese vocabulary for the spirit world — Shén (shen), the animating spiritual force; Guǐ (gway), the ghost or lingering dead; Zǔ (dzoo), the ancestors; and the two souls every living person carries: the Hún (hwun), the yang sky-soul, and the Pò (poh), the yin earth-soul. What happens when they separate at death — and what happens when they don’t — is exactly where the Taoist understanding of ghosts begins. From there: why ghosts exist according to the tradition (unfinished business, violent death, and the neglect of the dead by the living), Zhuangzi’s famous story of singing at his wife’s funeral, the skull on the road who wouldn’t trade death for life, and the deeper question underneath all of it — why do we see them, and why do we need them to exist? This episode also answers a listener question about unexplained waves of sadness that arise in meditation, and closes with a Taoist assignment built for the season. Thoughtful, a little unsettling, and grounded in a 2,500-year-old tradition that took the unseen world seriously long before it was Halloween.
The Modern Taoist — Tao Te Now, Chapter 6 Kit Mann on the five lines in the Tao Te Ching that make the biggest claim in the book and then immediately make it personal. Chapter 6 calls the Tao the Great Mother — empty yet inexhaustible, the source of infinite worlds — and then turns directly to the listener and says it is always present within you, and you can use it any way you want. This episode breaks down what that actually means, why the emptiness Lao Tzu is describing is not a lack but a function, and why the Tao is not something you go out and find. It was already there before you started looking. If you have ever felt like your spiritual practice was something you had to earn your way into, this chapter says otherwise.
The Modern Taoist — Rest Is Not the Same Thing as Stopping Kit Mann on why the weekend you spent doing nothing still left you exhausted on Monday morning. This episode draws a distinction that productivity culture never bothered to make: the difference between stopping and actually resting. One of them restores something. The other is just anxiety in a horizontal position. Most people have been taught that rest is what happens when the work is done — a reward, something earned, something scheduled into the gaps. Taoism does not see it that way. Rest is not the absence of work. It is part of the same cycle as the work, and the person who removes it from that cycle has not optimized anything. They have cut off the source the productivity comes from. This check-in is short, direct, and built for the person who scrolls for two hours and feels worse afterward, who sits still and stays somewhere else in their head, who cannot remember the last time they came back from time off actually restored. If that is you, this is the episode. If you know someone like that, send it to them
The Modern Taoist — Ask Me Anything | Episode 5 Kit Mann answers six listener questions in the latest Ask Me Anything episode of The Modern Taoist — covering clinical anxiety and depression, perimenopause, whether Taoism is only for older people, what the tradition actually says about death, collecting as compulsion, and what to do when a company betrays nine years of loyalty. No themes, no arc, no tidy argument. Just real questions from real people and honest answers that bring Taoist thinking to the places it actually lives — in the body, in the workplace, in the grief, in the obsession, in the gap between what you understand and what you feel.