The Man Who Chased His Shadow

One afternoon, as golden light filtered through the trees, a young scholar arrived at the tea house, his face tense with frustration. He sat before the Daoist master, shaking his head.

“Master,” he said, “I have studied the Dao for years. I have memorized the Dao De Jing, practiced stillness, and disciplined my mind. Yet, no matter how much I learn, enlightenment eludes me. It is like chasing my own shadow—always just beyond reach. What am I doing wrong?”

The master took a slow sip of tea and smiled. Then, without a word, he stood up and stepped outside. The scholar followed.

The master pointed at his own shadow stretching across the ground. “Tell me,” he said, “how can I catch it?”

The scholar frowned. “You cannot. The more you move toward it, the more it moves away.”

The master nodded. Then he turned around, facing the sun. His shadow fell behind him, forgotten.

The scholar’s eyes widened. “You mean… instead of chasing enlightenment, I should turn toward—”

The master chuckled. “Where is the Dao not? Do you think it is hiding just beyond your grasp? If you chase it, you will only see its shadow. If you turn toward the light, you will forget the chase entirely.”

The scholar stood still. A breeze passed through the tea house, rustling the leaves.

For the first time, he did not think, did not struggle. He simply was.

And in that moment, his shadow no longer mattered.