In the Tao, the two forces of being and not-being grapple with one another, an eternal struggle that brings about creation and un-creation. Winter is a void but Spring comes from this void. Forces interact to bring about a balance of being and not-being; order and chaos; beauty and ugliness. What emerges is not so much a battle but a natural cycle. Today I live in a stasis with a tiny dot of restlessness. Yesterday, I lived with the opposite. They cycle continues. Today, I have a Confucian desire for order and rule keeping. Maybe not tomorrow.

This is the extent of my spirituality. The sum of all I can stand of religion today.

How does this belief express itself in my writing?