There exists at the center of Taoism (and of Buddhism that evolved in part out of Taoism) a paradox — the concept of wu-wei or “effortless action.” The idea is that out of a still mind, a powerful result is obtained through minimal, often imperceptible, action. The idea further extends to the notion that the most powerful result is obtained only when the mind is not fighting itself, is not striving to fulfill desire, is not flailing around in pursuit of an unclear, poorly understood objective.

If waters are placid, the moon will be mirrored perfectly. If we still ourselves, we can mirror the divine perfectly. But if we engage solely in the frenetic activities of our daily involvements, if we seek to impose our own schemes on the natural order, and if we allow ourselves to become absorbed in self-centered views, the surface of our waters becomes turbulent. Then we cannot be receptive to Tao.

      There is no effort that we can make to still ourselves. True stillness comes naturally from moments of solitude where we allow our minds to settle. Just as water seeks its own level, the mind will gravitate toward the holy. Muddy water will become clear if allowed to stand undisturbed, and so too will the mind become clear if it is allowed to be still.

      Neither the water nor the moon make any effort to achieve a reflection.
– Deng Ming-Dao, 365 Tao, Daily Meditations

The concept of wu-wei is similar to the still point out of which evolves the dance, the source of creative work of power:

Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance,
And there is only the dance.
-   T.S. Eliot

 From a different perspective, I explored this further in Nurturing The Song Within, pictured below