I'm fascinated by observing how we humans have become so insistent. I see it everywhere: in cafes, offices, on the streets - this collective tremor, this impatience that makes us vibrate like overly taut violin strings. I'm not immune to these mechanisms, even though I've always maintained a certain distance from their most obvious manifestations. I'm proudly TikTok-free, for instance, and my smartphone isn't an extension of my arm. Yet I find myself observing, fascinated, the dynamics that drive us to this almost compulsive behavior.
It's as if we're all connected to a giant dopamine machine: every notification, every like, and every immediate response releases a small dose of this pleasure neurotransmitter. Click, buzz, ping - and our brains light up like Christmas trees. I see it in my friends obsessively checking Instagram, in colleagues who can't wait five minutes for an email response, in myself when I'm waiting for important feedback.
There's something deeply anxious about all this. Uncertainty frightens us, and silence makes us uneasy. We're like children in the dark who keep calling out, "Mom?" just to make sure someone's still there. The lack of immediate responses creates a void that we fill with more messages, emails, and notifications—a self-perpetuating cycle.
This is where Wu Wei comes in, literally "non-action" or "effortless action," a principle I discovered months ago during my deep dive into Taoism through the texts of Alan Watts, Lieh Tzu, Zhuangzi, and Lao Tzu. It's a profound approach suggesting we act in harmony with the natural flow of things instead of constantly forcing them.
I've experienced it in relationships, at work, even in the way I wait for water to boil for tea (spoiler: staring at it doesn't make it boil faster). It's surprising how often things resolve themselves when we stop pushing, pulling, and obsessively controlling them. The most interesting part is observing how this collective insistence is changing our social interactions. We've become so accustomed to instant gratification that waiting has become almost an act of cultural resistance. An unread message can trigger a chain of anxious thoughts. An unanswered email can feel like personal rejection.
And then there's this subtle competition for attention. Standing out from the background noise becomes increasingly difficult in a world where everyone is constantly connected. It's like being in a room full of people shouting ever louder to be heard.
Yet, paradoxically, the more means we have to communicate instantly, the more we seem to lose the ability to communicate truly. It's as if we've traded depth for speed, quality for quantity. I've learned it the hard way: when you stop insisting, when you let things happen in their natural time, you often get better results than when you try to force them. It's a bit like when you finally fall asleep right at the moment you stop trying so hard to do it.
Feel free to leave a comment.
I have woven tales for anyone who cares to read them. My books await you on Google Booksare availablelso my stories o, and my stories can also be found
Feel free to contact me.
I would be honoured if you considered subscribing to the Premium Contents of my Vedanta Substack and leaving feedback, comments, and suggestions on this page and by writing to me at cosmicdancerpodcast@gmail.com.
Visit my BuyMeACoffee page.
Thanks for reading.