Letting Go and Tuning In: The Threefold Path to Mental Clarity

Let the Fresh Air In: Clearing the Mind’s Clutter

Imagine your mind as a computer with too many windows open. The tabs pile up, slowing things down, taking up memory. Or think of it as an apartment building in your head, filled with tenants—some are helpful, paying their rent on time, keeping things in order. Others? Not so much. Some don’t pay rent at all. Some even break things and leave a mess behind.

The question isn’t whether these unwanted tenants will show up—they will. It’s about how you handle them. Do you fight with them? Do you try to push them out with force? Or do you do something else entirely?

It’s hard to force smoke out of a room, but if you let fresh air in, the smoke clears naturally. Instead of focusing on getting rid of unwanted thoughts, bring in something new—a fresh intention, a deep breath, a shift in movement. Instead of fixating on what’s not welcome, invite in what is.

Breath, movement, intention—this is how we shift. This is how we keep the air fresh. Like a distillery refining a substance, we don’t fight against the old—we transform, making things more efficient, more clear.

And just like the immune system knows what belongs and what doesn’t, we, too, can recognize that not every thought deserves a home. The unwanted ones? Let them exist, just not here, not inside. Let them float by like clouds. Let the fresh air in.

Breathe in. Release. Stay with your center.

The Power of Three: Energy, Breath, and Awareness

The Trinity appears throughout existence. Matter, energy, and consciousness. Solid, liquid, and vapor. Ice, water, and mist. Sit, stand, and move. Breath, movement, and intention. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Everything follows this pattern of three, forming a structure to understand and engage with the world. Lower, middle, and upper Dantian. Stir the Jing, let the Qi rise, let the Shen settle. The pattern of three is not just a concept—it is a way of aligning with the natural flow of life.

Experiencing something is far different from merely hearing about it. A conversation, a podcast, a lecture—these are valuable, but they remain passive. Action is where transformation occurs. Doing it is the real process. Many people listen, engage with ideas, and enjoy the discussion, but few truly take the next step. The act of doing—breathing, moving, focusing—creates the change. Talking about it is one thing, but practicing it is what makes it real.

Training in earlier years was simple. There was little explanation—just do it. The method was direct, disciplined, and effective. Temple-style training: long hours, physical movement, endurance. The body learned before the mind had time to interfere. If it hurt, good. Go lower. Engage willpower. Strengthen it. The lesson was in the practice itself, not in discussing it.

Think of food. A child raised in a household with nutritious meals may not understand why the food is healthy—they just eat it. It is their normal. There is no debate, no intellectualizing, just an embodied reality of nourishment. Compare that to someone surrounded by cookbooks but eating Twinkies. Knowledge without action does not create change.

So now, we move from thinking into doing. Set intention. When the mind wanders, return. Breath in, breath out. The process is direct. There is nothing to analyze—simply engage.

Inhale. Exhale. Let breath guide action. Hold. Release. The body moves, the breath supports, the mind focuses. The cycle continues.

Breathing patterns align the body with energy. Inhale. Hold. Release. Follow the rhythm. Contract. Expand. Engage. The mastery is in refining, in deepening, in committing. Relax the face. Smile. Engage the lower body.

Some days, endurance is strong. Ninety seconds of breath holding feels effortless. Another day, sixty seconds is a challenge. It shifts, it flows, and that is natural. The practice remains—consistent, present, engaged. The goal is not the time, not the measurement, but the presence.

Stand. Move. Shake. Press through the big toe. Feel the grounding. Align movement with breath. Dividing heaven and earth—stretch, extend, press. The wrists engage. The energy moves. This is where warmth begins, where engagement deepens.

Sit low. Engage. Press. Feel the connection. Breathe into it. Capture energy, circulate it. Let the natural elements guide—earth, metal, water, wood, fire. Each movement corresponds, each breath aligns.

At the end, settle. Intent is set, then released. Intend and allow. The mastery lies in the space between thoughts. A moment of stillness is enough. Observe thoughts without engaging. A small gap opens. A pause. This is access. This is presence.

Return. Stand. See yourself. Carry this stillness, not as a burden, but as an access point. It is always there.