It is a cloudy afternoon, with temperatures in the fifties it is rare to see anybody outside at this time. However a group of people, men and women, in black could be seen standing on a damp yet luscious field of grass. After exchanging some words they enter a church of some sort. A woman, around her thirties, is seen clutching onto a framed photograph of an elderly woman. Tears start to flow down her eyes and she would whimper every now and then. One by one the attendants take a seat on the chairs provided. All of the chairs were taken except for one. Its location was at the front row, someone was absent. It's emptiness stuck out like a sore thumb, yet nobody said a word which created an atmosphere of uneasiness. After a couple moments of silence, people started to whisper. Whispers that were ever so quiet yet so loud at the same time.

    “Whose chair is that?” says one.

    “It's supposed to belong to her son,” another says while pointing to a portrait in front of them.

    Soon the atmosphere of uneasiness transcended into confusion and then into anger. It begins to rain.

    A  man is seen inside of his room on this rainy afternoon. The lights were off, the only source of illumination was his computer. The man was passed out in his pajamas on the cold, wooden floor. He awakes to the sound of his phone buzzing. He rubs his eyes and turns on his phone which its light blinded him for a split second. When he regained his vision he saw 12 missed calls and 67 new text message notifications.

    “Oh yeah, today was the day,” he murmured.

    He then hears repetitive banging coming from outside his door. The banging stops for a moment. A more profound bang follows and with it, the door. Three men in black from the church rush inside. They enter the room the man was staying in and start to beat him. One began to smash the computer, another trashed all of his belongings, the third remained on top of him, beating to his heart's contempt. After what seemed like a torturous eternity, the three men left. The brutally beaten man remained lying on the floor. 

    The man lied there for about an hour and got up on his feet and left his house. It was still raining at the time and he had not brought a coat. He walked for some time and fell on his knees in exhaustion. He turned his head and noticed that he was next to a library. He entered and to his surprise nobody was there. It was just him in this vast building, it was empty. He walked around and noticed a book lying on top of a table. The book read, “Taoism: Wu Wei.” 

    He flipped the book to a random page and within less than a second of opening the book, he tossed it on the ground.

    “What a waste of time,” he said in disinterest.

    He exited the library and onto the wet pavement. The rain had yet to stop. A stray dog emerges from an alleyway and onto the sidewalk across from him. The dog begins to limp towards him. It seemed that it had been deeply injured. The dog stops halfway across the road and collapses.

    “H-Hey,” the man stuttered, “get out of there.”

    The dog remained immobile. The sound of a truck could be heard in the distance getting closer and closer. The man’s feet stayed glued to the pavement. He was shaking, in other words he was afraid. He clenched his fist and his legs began to move slowly, but surely. In an instant he gathered his courage to run onto the road. However it would be too late. The truck would hit the two head on.

    “Can you hear me,” someone said faintly, “stay with me.”

    “Call an ambulance, quickly,” another shouted.

The man struggled to keep his eyes open and inevitably his eyes would close, forever.

   “Honey,” a masculine voice said, “well done.”

    The man opened his eyes. His vision was clear as day and the first thing that he saw were the faces of an adult man and woman. His eyes grew tired and he began to sleep.

    “What do you think we should name him darling,” the woman said.

    “Hmm,” the man thought, “how about Iride (Ir-id-day).”

    Nine years later: The day after Iride was born he had realized that he was reincarnated into another world. As an infant, he was able to understand people, but he was unable to talk until he was one and a half years old. However once he gained the chance to talk, his vocabulary was very limited and progressed as he aged. His parents who gave birth to him were named Andrew and Jameis. In this world last names did not exist nor modern day technology. Iride and his parents lived in a small farmland village and would make a living tending and harvesting their crops. Although they were very busy, they would shower Iride with love and affection like any parent should. However, Iride still maintained his memory of his past life. Past events would traumatize him every now and then, but as of now he realized that he was given a second chance. A second chance to live a whole new life.

    One day when Iride was scouring around in his parent’s attic he came across a book which read, “Taoism: Wu Wei.” Iride jumped back in shock, realizing that it was the same book he came across before he died. This time Iride opened the book to the first page and began to read.

    The page read, “One of Taoism’s most important concepts is wu wei, which is sometimes translated as ‘non-doing’ or ‘non-action’” (Reninger).

    Iride scratched his head in bewilderment. It’s contradicting itself, how would this even be possible? Intrigued, Iride would continue to read the entire book. It would take him a while to completely finish the book and when he was done he managed to become even more confused than before.

    Iride exited the attic with the book in hand in search of his parents. His parents were outside tending to their plantation in the middle of the night. They were in the midst of trying to find a way to help their plants grow faster and bigger this way they would have more fresh crops to use and sell everyday.

    “Father, Mother, do you know what Wu Wei is?” Iride asked, showing them the book.

    “Not really,” his father replied, “we received the book as a gift from a passerby, old man Cyrus.”

    “I see,” Iride said rather sadly.

    “If you want you can go and visit him tomorrow and ask him for yourself,” his mother said, “he lives in a shack on top of the hills, you can’t miss it.

    “Yeah,” his father replied, “that sounds like a good idea.”

    Iride’s face lit in excitement, “Really? Thank you mother, father”

    The next day Iride packed the book into a bag and set off to go visit old man Cyrus. In this world, children venturing by themselves seemed to be common. After a tiring journey, Iride made it in front of old man Cyrus’s door. He began to knock on the door but received no answer. Iride sighed and began to knock rapidly on the door.

    “Can you be quiet!” Cyrus shouted as he opened the door a mere inch.

    Cyrus was an odd man. He had a grey beard and was around his seventies. To think that an elderly man was living all by himself in such a desolate environment.

    “I knew you were home,” Iride sighed once more, “it’s not like there is anything you would particularly be doing.”

    “Hmph, I reward your intuition,” Cyrus said, “so what do you need?”

    Iride took out the book from his bag and handed it to Cyrus.

    “Hmm, since you’re showing me this I assume that you want to learn about Wu Wei,” Cyrus said intrigued, “come on in.”

    Cyrus’s shack was more hospitable and clean than Iride had imagined. Iride and Cyrus introduced each other and they both took a seat. 

    “Your place is quite clean,” Iride said.

    “Hehe, I’m flattered and it's all thanks to wu wei,” Cyrus said.

    Confused, Iride asked, “How so?”

    “Well, well, well, listen here young Iride,” Cyrus smirked, “First off the Tao in Taoism translates to ‘path’ or ‘way’ which beliefs is based on the idea that there is a natural order of the universe or a ‘way of heaven’” (Taoism - Chinese Customs and Beliefs).

    “I-I see,” Iride said, feeling enlightened.

Cyrus continued, “Wu wei should not be translated as do-nothingness or inaction but as pure effectiveness, or creative quietude” (Smith 135).

    “In other words, it means being at peace while doing hectic tasks so you can provide the best results with best efficiency,” Cyrus added (EASTERN PHILOSOPHY: Wu Wei).

    “Applying wu wei into my life helped an old man like me perform tasks effortlessly without the need of others,” Cyrus smiled.

Iride’s eyes lit up in admiration, “Is it okay if I call you Master.”

    “No, just call me Cyrus” Cyrus rejected without a second thought, “follow me, let me show you something.”

    Cyrus stood up and exited the front door with Iride tailing behind. After a while of walking, the two come across a stream.

    “Here’s a question, Iride,” Cyrus said, “if you were to toss a leaf into the stream, which way would it move faster?”

    “Obviously down stream, why?” Iride answered.

    “Exactly, moving the direction where the stream is going effortlessly would be far more easier and efficient,” Cyrus replied, “everything happens for a reason, it would be easier to go with the current rather than fighting against it, adapt and overcome” (EASTERN PHILOSOPHY: Wu Wei).

    “This example could also be interpreted as not forcing things too violently and not to interfere with the spontaneity or alter it by any means,” Cyrus added, “our leaf might get stuck but it would inevitably find a way around and reach the end of the stream where our leaf resembles a life of balance, harmony, and inner tranquility” (Taoism - Chinese Customs and Beliefs).

    Afterwards, Cyrus and Iride headed back to Cyrus’s shack to eat lunch together. There Cyrus would tell Iride about a poet who would compare wu wei to a drunk man who falls uninjured off the back of a moving cart (The Forgotten Art of Non-Doing). Cyrus explains that this analogy suggests dropping self centered ideas and things to be considered a distraction and and realising a sense of non-action within action. When the two had finished lunch, Iride packed his things and waved goodbye to Cyrus. As a gift, Cyrus handed another book to Iride to take home. Iride was extremely grateful for what Cyrus had taught him and vowed to use this knowledge to help others. On his way back, Iride began to think, if he had put wu wei into his own past life, would things be different? In Iride’s past life he was an utter failure. Someone who would never try at anything, someone who had fallen into laziness and procrastination, someone who had barely cared. To tell the truth, Iride truly loved his mother and was heartbroken when he heard the news of her passing. He just wasn’t strong enough to face the truth just yet.

    Iride was nearly home when he heard the sound of a twig snapping.

    “Hey kid,” a man in a robe holding a lantern behind a tree said, “you looked troubled.”

    Iride completely ignored him for his parents had taught him to never converse with strangers.

    “You went to Cyrus haven’t you,” the man muttered, “I can tell, who else would be heading back from that direction?”

    Iride stopped in his tracks, “Yeah, so what.”

    “No need for hostility,” the man chuckled, “you’re not from this world aren’t you?”

    “Wh-” Iride began to shake, for the first time after entering this world he felt fear.

    “Judging by your expression I take that as a yes,” the man smiled,     “humans are interesting creatures, they are capable of many things.”

    “They are capable of doing supreme activity and supreme relaxation at the same time because humans are not self-enclosed beings,” the man continued, “compare wu wei and contrast your prior life to water or bamboo, ever so flexible, yet incredibly strong at the same time, ” (Smith 136).

    Iride took a slight pause. In his past life he had to deal with many distractions. He should have not paid any attention to them. However dwelling on such ideals and what-ifs is only hindering himself. Like water, the only way is forward.

    “I see you’ve got your answer,” The man smiled and began to vanish, but before doing so he left one more message, “Think about muddy water, give it time and calmness and it will become clear again.” (Smith 136).