In this blog series, I’ve gathered six beloved quotes, sayings, and prayers – teachings that have arrived in timely moments, offering solace, comfort, and healing throughout the years. I share the lessons they’ve offered me, along with simple ways you can work with them yourself. My hope is that you find small doses of healing here. Gentle reminders to bring you home. Guideposts for the way back to remembering.
This is the fourth reflection in the series:
“If you want to know me, look inside your heart.” ~ Lao Tzu
This beautiful quote is breathed across many interpretations of Lao Tzu’s, Tao Te Ching (The Way of Virtue). Flowing like water — clear, simple, and carrying pure truth, his words are not asking us to ponder more deeply about ourselves, nor to search for meaning within the folds of our memory or personality.
They are merely a quiet form of introspection, rooted solely in allowance.
As a life student, and practitioner of Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), I’ve always been drawn to the Taoist philosophies which emphasize living in harmony with nature. The interconnectedness of life and the idea that what happens in our microcosm is reflected in the macrocosm and vice versa.
Written in a time long past, Lao Tzu’s teachings continue to have impact today because they speak to the eternal that lives within all of us.
When reciting this phrase, “If you want to know me, look inside your heart,” my body softens with a natural exhale.
My imagination takes over and Lao Tzu appears, standing at the base of a mountain. Morning mist hangs in the air. I feel the dampness of morning dew beneath my feet and the cool mountain air against my face.
We walk together.
Words are never uttered.
His presence alone inspires me to look deeply within to know who I am without effort.
Then, as our scene softly dissolves into the surrounding mist — I return to my own reality.
Here, the heart is not something we find or search through.
It is something we allow to move us.
In (TCM), the Heart is associated to the emotion of Joy. More than a place for our feelings, the heart is a place of direct action — where joy is inherent, not circumstantial.
In the Taoist sense, this is Wu Wei: effortless action. You stop thinking about the moment and start being the moment.
The Heart that knows before thought
For a long time, I believed ‘looking inside the heart’ meant internal questioning — searching, as if trying to recover something hidden in the dark. What I’ve come to know is that, more often than not, the heart does not wait to be found. It simply takes the lead.
I felt this knowing long before I could name it, standing in a sun-drenched field in Uganda.
The air was thick all around me with the scent of red earth, and the sound of laughter. Villagers moved easily through the field, harvesting termites from towering mounds, spreading them out to dry in the heat.
This was a seasonal gift from the earth — a communal bounty. Some were cooking them, others, preparing them for market.
Meanwhile, my small self was welling up with resistance…. My body tightened before my mind caught up.
Jaw clenched.
Neck rigid.
Breath shallow.
No way am I going to eat these.
Absolutely not.
I can’t possibly do it.
My personality ego was quickly building a wall of no— a brittle barrier rooted in cultural conditioning—as my mind searched for a graceful way out.
Then something shifted.
No thought.
No decision.
Jaw released.
Neck softened.
A warm flow of energy began moving within me, rising across my heart space. An insatiable inner smile welled up from my spirit. And in an instant, my ego’s no way was gone.
Standing there, I must have been glowing as I watched my own hand rise and reach out. I bent down and watched my palm scoop up the dried termites. The smile within me was now full-blown, spilling onto my face as my hand moved to my mouth.
I popped those termites in like I’d eaten them a thousand times before.
The brittle wall didn’t just crack; it dissolved into a surge of abounding joy— a sacred, bubbling delight mirrored in the eyes of the villagers. The shallow breath was gone, replaced by a deep chest-filled laugh that vibrated through my body.
The landscape shifted into technicolor. Smiles and giggles all around!
We were no longer outsider and host.
We were simply humans sharing salt and earth in a world of blissful glee.
Truly, the termites were delicious — crunchy, nutty, with an earthy flavor of perfection. And yet, the true feast was my heart’s joy flowing freely through me, unhindered by the gatekeeper of the mind.
The Lesson of the Termite Field
Lao Tzu’s invitation isn’t about intellectual introspection. It is about recognizing the place within you that is already in harmony with everything.
When we look inside the heart, we are not looking for more thoughts. We are looking for the Self that knows how to smile across the chest.
The part of us that recognizes we are not separate from the field, the villagers, or the gifts of the earth.
When I got out of my own way — not through bravery or effort, through harmony moving through me — I didn’t just understand Lao Tzu’s words.
They lived through me.
I was carried by the same rhythm, once imagined, now fully embodied.
Practice: The Unity Breath
Find a quiet, comfortable place to sit or lie down.
Let your body be supported by the surface beneath you.
Feel the weight of your hips, your legs, your back — held by gravity.
Begin by noticing your breath as it is. No need to change it.
Take a slow inhale through the nose.
Then release the breath with an audible ahhhh, letting the jaw soften and shoulders settle.
Repeat this a few times, allowing each exhale to lengthen naturally.
Now, bring your attention to your heart space.
Gently sense the love you hold for Mother Earth:
her landscapes, her trees, her waters, her creatures.
No need to search for the feeling or “try” to love. Simply allow what is already present to rise. Let this love fill your heart, expanding softly with each breath.
As it grows, sense this energy flowing downward through your torso to the base of your spine. From here, imagine a grounding cord extending into the earth, spiraling gently downward until it rests upon her crystalline core.
Feel the steadiness of this connection.
Supported.
Rooted.
Held.
Now, sense the earth’s love flowing back up through this cord, returning to your heart.
Notice any warmth, tingling or subtle movement as your breath and pulse begin to synchronize with hers.
When this feels established, shift your awareness to the love you feel for the cosmos — the sun, the moon, the stars, the vastness of space, and all of creation.
Allow this love to gather in your heart space, then offer it upward through your throat, third eye and crown chakras— extending beyond your body, through the atmosphere, and into the heart of the cosmos.
Sense the celestial love flowing back to you, meeting the love of the earth within your heart. Mixing and melding. Swirling and twirling with your own energy.
Both currents — earth and sky — moving through you as one living column of light.
One breath.
One rhythm.
One field.
Remain here for 5-10 minutes, resting in the felt experience of unity. When ready, allow your breath to return to its natural pace and gently open your eyes.
Closing Reflection
This saying continually teaches me that the heart does not speak in syllables. Her language is one of a living current of harmony — a widening of a gaze, the salt of the earth on the tongue – a knowing of how to simply meet the space without effort or resistance.
In these rare and honest spaces, we are not deciding or becoming.
We are merely participating in what is true.
This is what I believe, Lao Tzu meant: to know the self is not to search inward endlessly. It is to allow the heart’s natural wisdom to move us back into right relationship with life — where separation softens, and joy arises.
Blessed be ~
