THe Art of Flow

The Art of Flow: Inaction Within Action and Action Within Inaction  

In the West we’ve inherited a way of living built on ego, control, and force—like sailing a racing boat, tightening the ropes, fighting the elements. But elsewhere, there are ancient philosophies rooted in flow and harmony with nature: Taoist Wu Wei, Japanese Ikigai, and the soul-led action found in the Bhagavad Gita. In these Eastern traditions, stillness is not wasted; it is where ideas ferment and spirit awakens.

There’s a way I’ve been living lately that feels different—slower, but fuller. It’s not always easy to put into words. I’ve been thinking a lot about this contrast between Eastern and Western approaches to work and being, especially the deep difference between doing things from a state of force versus doing things from a state of flow.

External Stillness—Internal Creation

There’s a kind of inaction that’s not laziness, but space. The porch swing in the evening. Waking with the sunrise. Sitting in the kayak on still water. These are the moments when I’m not doing—but so much is happening inside me. Thoughts untangle. Ideas surface. Emotions settle. I reflect, create, and come back to life.

Lao Tzu wrote: “By non-action everything can be done.”This is Wu Wei — not passive, but deeply aligned. A kind of spiritual judo, where you let the energy of life move through you. It’s only in this looseness, this soft inaction, that the real action begins.

The Western Machine vs. Soul Awareness

Contrast this with the daily grind. We wake to alarms, race through tasks, answer messages, attend meetings, meet quotas, and tick off boxes. There’s outer action everywhere. But where is the soul?

Gary Zukav, in The Seat of the Soul, writes about living from a deeper place—witnessing the noise without becoming it. We’re like icebergs: what people see is the surface, the busyness. But the soul is the vast quiet underneath. And when we live from that depth, even in chaos, we’re still calm. We’re still whole.

Flow as Ancient Genius

What we call flow now—the sweet spot where time vanishes and ideas pour in—was once called Genius. To the Romans, your genius was a spirit that walked beside you. To the Greeks, it was your muse. They didn’t see brilliance as something you own, but something you commune with.

The Greek word for happiness, eudaimonia, literally means "well-spirited"—living in harmony with your inner genius. Today, when I let go and follow the thread of inspiration, I feel that spirit near me. I don’t have to force anything. The ideas come because I’ve created space.

Action in the Inaction, Inaction in the Action

The Bhagavad Gita teaches: “He who sees inaction in action and action in inaction is wise among men.” This isn’t poetry—it’s practice. In a world of external noise, we can still live from an internal silence. And in a world of stillness, we can be in motion within, connecting, creating, listening.

It’s not about balance as a goal. It’s about flow as a way of being. A natural ebb and release, like breathing in and breathing out. It’s knowing when to pause and when to act. When to stretch into complexity, and when to rest into simplicity.

 “He  who sees inaction in action and action in inaction is wise among men.”      

— Bhagavad Gita, 4:18

Modern Soul Shifts

What’s wild is how often a simple rearranging of time or intention can open a new way forward. Dr. Barbara De Angelis calls these Soul Shifts—tiny internal realignments that ripple out and change everything.

Sometimes I don’t need to do more. I just need to stop doing what’s blocking the flow.

The Greatest Secret of Awareness

Rhonda Byrne’s The Greatest Secret speaks of awareness itself as the master key. That behind every thought, feeling, and task is a silent field of consciousness—the soul, simply watching. When we live from this space, everything changes. We’re not pulled around by the world. We respond, not react. We create, not cope.

The Joy of Ikigai—Daily Satisfaction

In Japanese culture, there’s a word—Ikigai—that means the joy of being alive, the satisfaction in doing something meaningful each day. It could be sweeping a floor, shaping clay, helping a neighbor, or crafting a sentence. It’s not about grand achievements. It’s about waking with purpose.

When I live this way, I don’t need to chase success. I just do what I love, as well as I can, with full presence. That is enough.

The Art of Flow

You’re living this philosophy—learning to dance between doing and being—within the machine of modern life. Once the tasks are learned, you can lean into soul-space, invite the genius, and let flow carry you forward. Not as escape, but as balance: letting the deep streams of inspiration and intuition guide your work, your relationships, and your art.

We don’t always have control over the world we live in. But we can choose how we relate to it. We can live in alignment, even inside the system. We can listen for the soul beneath the software, the genius within the grind. We can pause, breathe, and wait for the current to return. And when it does, we ride it—not to arrive faster, but to arrive fuller, and free.