The sun had just begun to rise, gently brushing the sky with pink and gold. I stood at the base of the hill behind Master Tian’s little hut, barefoot, holding my breath. Today, I would climb the Invisible Hill—a place that everyone in the village spoke of but no one had ever seen. The grownups laughed when I asked, but I overheard Master Tian whisper to an old traveler, “The hill is there, just not where your eyes look.”
I was eleven and tired of feeling small. I thought if I could find it, I would be big—or at least wise like Master Tian.
"Master," I'd asked him before dawn, "how do I climb the Invisible Hill?"
He smiled, like he always did, and placed a warm hand on my shoulder. “By not trying to climb at all.”
That made no sense. But I still walked behind his hut, looking for it. I marched around, up and down the little paths, waiting to trip over something... invisible? My face grew red. Birds chirped. Dew glistened on the grass. Nothing changed, but inside I felt my frustration build.
After a while, I sat down in the moss and huffed. “There’s no hill,” I muttered. “Master Tian just says strange things to sound clever.”
Nearby, a butterfly fluttered past. It was light blue with tiny black spots that looked like a little night sky. It floated this way, then that, turning and circling... so effortlessly.
I watched it land on a large, flat stone and stay there. The wind stirred, but the butterfly didn’t resist or fight. It just let the wind move its wings. It didn’t flap. It didn’t rush.
And that’s when Master Tian’s voice echoed in my head: “By not trying to climb at all.”
What if the Invisible Hill wasn’t something I needed to find? What if it was a place inside me?
I lay back in the grass. The warmth of the sun wrapped around me like a soft blanket. I didn’t move. My breath slowed. I felt... light.
In that stillness, I remembered something Master Tian told me once: “The Tao isn’t a mountain to reach. It is the wind, the butterfly, the stillness—and it moves best when you don’t force it.”
At that moment, I didn’t need to climb anywhere. I was already on the hill. Not one that could be seen or touched, but one that rose the moment I let go.
I stayed there until the sun had climbed high into the sky. Then I walked back freely, smiling.
When I returned, Master Tian sipped his tea by the door. He looked up and nodded. "You found it."
I nodded back.
That day, I understood that doing less—letting go—wasn't weakness. It was the way. Like the butterfly rides the breeze instead of fighting it, I could learn to move with the world instead of against it.
And though I still have much to learn, I know now the Invisible Hill is always there, waiting for me to stop trying so hard... and simply be.
The sun had just begun to rise, gently brushing the sky with pink and gold. I stood at the base of the hill behind Master Tian’s little hut, barefoot, holding my breath. Today, I would climb the Invisible Hill—a place that everyone in the village spoke of but no one had ever seen. The grownups laughed when I asked, but I overheard Master Tian whisper to an old traveler, “The hill is there, just not where your eyes look.”
I was eleven and tired of feeling small. I thought if I could find it, I would be big—or at least wise like Master Tian.
"Master," I'd asked him before dawn, "how do I climb the Invisible Hill?"
He smiled, like he always did, and placed a warm hand on my shoulder. “By not trying to climb at all.”
That made no sense. But I still walked behind his hut, looking for it. I marched around, up and down the little paths, waiting to trip over something... invisible? My face grew red. Birds chirped. Dew glistened on the grass. Nothing changed, but inside I felt my frustration build.
After a while, I sat down in the moss and huffed. “There’s no hill,” I muttered. “Master Tian just says strange things to sound clever.”
Nearby, a butterfly fluttered past. It was light blue with tiny black spots that looked like a little night sky. It floated this way, then that, turning and circling... so effortlessly.
I watched it land on a large, flat stone and stay there. The wind stirred, but the butterfly didn’t resist or fight. It just let the wind move its wings. It didn’t flap. It didn’t rush.
And that’s when Master Tian’s voice echoed in my head: “By not trying to climb at all.”
What if the Invisible Hill wasn’t something I needed to find? What if it was a place inside me?
I lay back in the grass. The warmth of the sun wrapped around me like a soft blanket. I didn’t move. My breath slowed. I felt... light.
In that stillness, I remembered something Master Tian told me once: “The Tao isn’t a mountain to reach. It is the wind, the butterfly, the stillness—and it moves best when you don’t force it.”
At that moment, I didn’t need to climb anywhere. I was already on the hill. Not one that could be seen or touched, but one that rose the moment I let go.
I stayed there until the sun had climbed high into the sky. Then I walked back freely, smiling.
When I returned, Master Tian sipped his tea by the door. He looked up and nodded. "You found it."
I nodded back.
That day, I understood that doing less—letting go—wasn't weakness. It was the way. Like the butterfly rides the breeze instead of fighting it, I could learn to move with the world instead of against it.
And though I still have much to learn, I know now the Invisible Hill is always there, waiting for me to stop trying so hard... and simply be.
