See the Series Introduction for Just Tao It, Part IHERE
See the Just Tao It Series Introduction Tao/It on-ramp, PART IIHERE
See Just Tao It, Chapter 1HERE

From my interpretation of the Tao Te Ching, Chapter 15 (Unpublished):

In ancient times
those who followed It
had simple presence.
 

They were watchful—
like one stepping
across an iced-over stream.

They were alert—
as if moving
through enemy terrain.

They were courteous,
like a well-mannered guest.

As melting ice,
they were fluid.

As uncarved wood,
they were solid.

As a valley,
they were open.
 

As clear water,
they were plain.

Quiet in form,
steady in being,
 

they did not rush
to be known.

I’ve been sitting with this chapter longer than most. Not because it’s unclear, but because it would be easy to misuse it. There’s a temptation to read something like this and think it’s pointing us back to a simpler time, a quieter world, a better past. Make things like they used to be. Return to traditional values. Restore what’s been lost.

We’re seeing enough of that already, and most of it isn’t wisdom. It’s nostalgia weaponized as certainty. It’s fear dressed up as strength. This chapter isn’t asking us to go backward. It’s asking something harder. It’s asking how we move in a world that keeps getting louder, faster, and more fractured without becoming distorted by it.

The descriptions are simple, almost understated. Watchful. Careful. Courteous. Fluid. Solid. Open. Clear. None of that sounds particularly dramatic, which is part of the problem. We’ve trained ourselves to associate impact with volume, speed, and certainty. If something doesn’t register that way, we tend to miss it or dismiss it. But the people described here are not passive. They’re disciplined in a way that doesn’t announce itself. They see clearly—and they don’t rush to react. They move like someone crossing ice. Not frozen. Not hesitant. Just aware of what happens when you step without paying attention.

It’s hard not to think about that in the context we’re in now. We’ve built systems that are extraordinarily good at getting a response. Not understanding. Not clarity. Response. Faster, stronger, more immediate. Outrage travels. Fear spreads. Othering follows. We’ve seen it play out. That’s not speculation. It’s design. The system pulls, but it only works if we lean. And once we lean, it starts shaping what we see next.

We don’t just react to the system. Over time, we start to resemble it.

We develop opinions before we have understanding. We take positions before we’ve examined the ground we’re standing on. We mistake immediate response for clarity and speed for competence. And because the system rewards all of this—with attention, with engagement, with the feeling of being effective—we start to believe that’s what strength looks like. That’s what leadership looks like. That’s what it means to be informed and engaged.

Until we notice we can’t slow down anymore. We’ve trained ourselves into patterns that don’t serve us but that we can’t seem to break. We’re moving at the system’s pace, not our own. And we’ve lost the ability to tell the difference.

Which is where the polarity at the heart of this chapter becomes essential: Clear Seeing AND Composed Presence.

See clearly, and you understand what’s actually happening. Stay composed, and you don’t add distortion to it. Lose either one and the system starts to run you.

I know what it’s like to lose your footing. A few years ago, I had a serious accident that changed how I move through the world—literally and otherwise. There was a period after that when I couldn’t locate myself in any of this. The map I’d used for years—upsides, downsides, movement between poles—none of it fit. I wasn’t in one pole or the other. I wasn’t even moving between them. I felt neutral. No pull. No preference. No movement.

It occurred to me, slowly, that I might be in the only place on the map that holds all of it—the center. The And. The place that carries every quadrant and insists on none of them.

There wasn’t clarity in the way I was used to. There wasn’t control. There was just presence. Breathe. Be. Then do the next thing. Not resolution. Not certainty. Just enough steadiness to not be pulled apart.

That’s what this chapter is pointing to. Not the ability to analyze your way to the right pole or execute your way to perfect balance. The capacity to remain present—to see clearly what’s happening and stay composed enough not to be destroyed by it. Not because you’ve mastered the system. Because you’ve stopped letting the system define what matters.

Clear Seeing to the neglect of Composed Presence turns into analysis that still reacts—you see what’s happening, but you can’t help being pulled into it. You’re faster than others at recognizing the pattern, but you’re still moving at the system’s pace.

Composed Presence to the neglect of Clear Seeing drifts into calm that misses what matters—you maintain your equilibrium, but you stop noticing what’s shifting around you. You’re steady, but you’re steering based on old information.

Together, they create something else. Not control. Not detachment. Something closer to steadiness that can move.

The image of uncarved wood appears throughout the Tao Te Ching. It’s not raw or unformed in the sense of lacking capacity. It’s whole in a way that hasn’t been reduced to serve a single purpose yet. Once you carve the wood into a specific tool, it gains function but loses possibility. It can only be what it was shaped to be.

The same thing happens when we let systems carve us. We become optimized for response, for speed, for positioning—and we lose the capacity to be anything else. Clear Seeing AND Composed Presence is what keeps us whole enough to choose how we’re shaped instead of letting the system do it for us.

The image that stays with me isn’t the ice or the valley or even the water. It’s the lack of urgency to be known.

Everything in our environment rewards visibility. Social media demands positioning. Thought leadership demands immediate takes. Silence gets read as weakness. And yet, the more we chase visibility, the easier it is to lose track of whether we’re seeing clearly or just responding quickly.

The ones described here don’t rush to insert themselves into every moment. Their impact isn’t tied to how quickly they show up, but to how clearly they see and how they choose to respond. That doesn’t make them less relevant. It makes them harder to pull off course.

And over time, it creates trust—not the performative kind that comes from saying the right things quickly, but the structural kind that comes from pattern recognition over time. People learn they can predict how you’ll show up. Not because you’re predictable in your positions, but because you’re consistent in your discipline. You see clearly before you respond. You don’t get pulled into every current. And when you do speak or act, it’s grounded in something more solid than what’s trending.

And maybe that’s the point. Not to withdraw from what’s happening, but to stay in it without being taken over by it.

The system pulls. It always will. That’s not a design flaw—it’s what systems do. They optimize for their goals, not ours. Engagement. Response. Speed. Volume. None of that is inherently wrong. But none of it is inherently us, either.

The question isn’t whether the system pulls.

The question is whether we’ve learned to see clearly enough to notice when we’re being pulled—and whether we’ve cultivated enough steadiness to choose our response instead of just reacting.

Clear Seeing AND Composed Presence.

Not one or the other.

Both, over time, in ways that let us move without being moved.

The ancient ones crossing the ice weren’t frozen.

They were awake.

And that’s still what’s required.

Here’s a Polarity Map for Clear Seeing And Composed Presence:

 

INVITATIONS:

Take a custom Polarity self-assessment based on this polarity HERE.

To use an “AI-trained Chat w/Cliff for Step 1, Seeing” CLICK HERE.

Ready for the Polarity Advantage? Go deeper into Polarity Thinking, see our online self-directed Credentialing and Introduction to Polarity Practice or in-person training with Barry Johnson and me at Kayser Ridge by CLICKING HERE.