Daoism – Pianodao

The Natural Musician

Fermata • The Pianodao Blog
Short Reflections by Andrew Eales

I really believe that it’s imperative for us all to reawaken to the natural world around us, and to rediscover our place within it. Recognising and following the changing seasons, and making adjustments which bring our inner journey into harmony with the natural world is fundamental to our true wellbeing.

Throughout history, the Daoist philosophers and teachers emphasised this point. Alongside that, they were keen musicians and artists who demonstrated in their works that far from adding to our sense of separation from the natural world, our artistic expression can provide an avenue by which we can come much closer to it.

Let’s explore this idea of becoming a more natural musician, in tune with the seasons and the living world around us…

The Pinnacle of Patience

Fermata • The Pianodao Blog
Short Reflections by Andrew Eales

This succinct and beautiful verse has set me thinking about the true benefits of learning to play the piano. It’s called Gazing At The Peak, and was written by the Chinese poet Du Fu, who lived from 712-770:

“Who can describe the Great Peak?
The province is not yet green,
yet nature gathers its divine beauty
and yin parts from yang at dusk and dawn.
I bare my chest to the living clouds,
strain my eyes toward the birds flying home.
I will climb to the very summit
and shrink many mountains within a single glance.”

Translation by Deng Ming-Dao,
from his book Each Journey Begins With a Single Step (2018):

So what does this ancient poem have to do with the benefits of piano playing, or with developing patience? Well, let’s explore and find out…

Spotlight or quiet life?

Fermata • The Pianodao Blog
Short Reflections by Andrew Eales

Anonymity can mean many things. As musicians, we perhaps associate the word with those composers of old whose names have been lost to history. Their works are attributed to “anon”, either because they weren’t that interested in taking the credit, or because they left the stage without providing a forwarding address.

And let’s face it, in the pressured world of piano playing, as elsewhere, being well-known certainly brings its own challenges, with exposure to scrutiny, conflict, and the envy of those who are less successful or simply unfulfilled. No wonder some actually value the quiet life more highly than the spotlight!

And yet we still sometimes confuse anonymity with failure, because we equate success with making a name for oneself. But there are many other (some would say better) ways to measure our success in life.

So should we actively pursue anonymity? Can a wise balance be found, whereby we authentically share our gifts and lives without constantly craving the limelight?

The Year of the Horse

Fermata • The Pianodao Blog
Short Reflections by Andrew Eales

Since ancient times, the Chinese have followed the lunar calendar, New Year coinciding with the first hint of Spring’s arrival in the northern hemisphere.

New Year’s Eve 2026 falls on Monday 16th February, heralding the start of Spring Festival, which culminates two weeks later with the Festival of Lanterns on Tuesday 3rd March.

The years are traditionally named after the twelve symbolic animals of the Chinese zodiac. These are multiplied by the ‘Five Elements’ of traditional Daoist cosmology to create a 60 year cycle. Following on from the Year of the Wood Snake, we now enter the Year of the Fire Horse.

Regardless of how we view ancient beliefs and customs, it does us no harm to reflect on our lives and progress using the cycle of the seasons and calendar of old traditions as a simple tool.

Contradiction and Connection

Fermata • The Pianodao Blog
Short Reflections by Andrew Eales

In her acclaimed novel Lessons in Chemistry, Bonnie Garmus cleverly puts into words the observations of the character ‘Six Thirty’, who happens to be the main protagonist’s dog. Here’s an example of Six Thirty’s canine wisdom:

“Humans were strange, Six Thirty thought, the way they constantly battled dirt in their aboveground world, but after death willingly entombed themselves in it.”

A fair point! But perhaps it is our contradictions that both define us, and prove the quality of our connections with one another…

The Year of the Snake

Fermata • The Pianodao Blog
Short Reflections by Andrew Eales

Since ancient times, the Chinese have followed the lunar calendar, New Year coinciding with the first hint of Spring in the northern hemisphere. New Year’s Eve 2025 falls on 28th January, which heralds the start of Spring Festival, culminating two weeks later with the Festival of Lanterns on February 12th.

The years are traditionally named after the twelve symbolic animals of the Chinese zodiac. These are multiplied by the ‘Five Elements’ of traditional Daoist cosmology to create a 60 year cycle. Following on from the Year of the Dragon, we are about to enter the Year of the Wood Snake.

Regardless of how we view ancient beliefs and customs, it does us no harm to reflect on our lives and progress using the cycle of the seasons and calendar of old traditions as a simple tool.

High Mountain, Flowing Water

Fermata • The Pianodao Blog
Short Reflections by Andrew Eales

A famous folk tale, recounted in the Annals of Lu Buwei (239 BCE) tells the story of a special friendship which has become immortalised in Chinese lore…

Running in place of horses

Fermata • The Pianodao Blog
Short Reflections by Andrew Eales

This striking passage from a classic of ancient Chinese wisdom offers many analogies and images that are worth pondering:

“Don’t run in place of horses,
or you’ll exhaust your strength.
Don’t fly in place of birds,
or you’ll wear out your wings.
Don’t act before others,
so you can observe their examples.
If you stir, you lose your position;
Be calm, and you’ll spontaneously succeed.”

Guanzi, attributed to Guan Yiwu (725-645 BCE), translated Thomas Cleary
The Way of the World: Readings in Chinese Philosophy (2009)

Any mention of horses on a piano-themed website inevitably reminds us of Bartók’s famous quip that “competitions are for horses, not artists”.

Guanzi’s rejection of competition seems to go further, however: compete against a horse in a race, and the horse will likely win. Try to fly like a bird, and your ‘wings’ won’t prove fit for purpose.

Such competition is bizarre, unnatural and entirely pointless. Follow through Guanzi’s thinking, and you’ll soon appreciate that the only living being worth competing with is actually yourself.

Guanzi goes still further, explaining that his admonition not to “run in place of horses” means, “not taking away the capacities of the capable.” In other words, let others be their best selves. Don’t try to take away or replicate their success, steal their identity, or compete for their position.

We can observe and learn from the examples of others without taking away what is rightly theirs, or seeking to replace them. Don’t try to beat or to be somebody else‘s personal best; try to be the best version of yourself.