Water Element: Embracing Duality for a Greater Reality

I love how the water element teaches us to flow with life. Whenever I’m in the water, I’m reminded of what ease can feel like. Water doesn’t fight obstacles—it moves around them. It accepts what’s in front of it, wraps itself around it completely, and keeps going.

There’s something deeply healing about that.

Before a Masters Swim workout, I can feel exhausted, disconnected, or overwhelmed by my day. But that first 50 yards? It’s transformational. The water on my skin, the buoyancy, the softness—it’s like being held by the goddess herself. My whole body begins to melt. As I settle into my breath and rhythm, my nervous system calms, and I return to a sense of wholeness.

Water invites integration—body, mind, and heart. It helps me access a greater reality, one where I can meet my challenges with more ease.

Think about a stream moving around a boulder. The boulder isn’t “in the way.” It’s part of the river. It adds texture, contrast, beauty. In Tantra, we don’t try to eliminate our “boulders.” We learn how to include them—how to flow around them. 

What would your life feel like if your obstacles weren’t problems to remove, but realities to work with?

Even water itself reflects this idea. It’s made of two elements—hydrogen and oxygen—that remain distinct yet come together to form something entirely new. They don’t lose themselves. They unite. And that union creates flow.

That idea—embracing duality to create unity—has been showing up in my life in a very practical way.

On a recent trip to Southern California for my mom’s 92nd birthday, I decided not to bring my usual cooler of travel food. It’s always a bit of a hassle—I have to check a bag, plan ahead, carry extra stuff. This time, I thought, Let’s make it easy. Just a carry-on. I’ll trust the universe to provide.

What a mistake that was!

I grabbed a quick breakfast at the airport—a white pita with eggs, cheese, and veggies. Tasty, but not exactly nourishing. During my layover in Chicago, I didn’t have time to get anything. By the time I was on the plane, I was starving. So, I ate what they handed out: pistachios, chips, Oreo cookies, and a Diet Coke.

By the time I landed, I had a migraine.

And not just a passing headache—I dealt with it for three days.

The frustrating part? I knew better. My inner dialogue before eating all that was, “I’m strong. My body can handle this. It’s just a little junk food.” But my body has told me, over and over, that this isn’t true.

So why do I keep testing it?

Needing to stay well-nourished yet rejecting that need is my boulder.

I wish I didn’t have to be so careful about food when I travel. I wish I could just grab whatever’s available like so many people can. But I can’t—not without consequences. And the real struggle isn’t the food itself. It’s resisting that reality. It’s wishing I were different.

That resistance is where the suffering comes in.

Tantra offers a different perspective. It suggests that life isn’t a problem to be solved. It’s something to be experienced. Unlike earlier traditions that viewed the world of differences as illusion, Tantra says: this world—this diversity, these contrasts—is real. And not only real, but essential. 

Unity doesn’t come from erasing differences. It comes from embracing them.

So maybe my sensitivity, my need for nourishment, isn’t something to fight. Maybe it’s something to embrace. Something to include in the flow of my life rather than resist.

Tantra begins with a simple but radical idea: life is not a problem. If that’s true, then why are we here? Not to perfect ourselves. Not to escape. Not to “get it right.” We’re here for the experience. As the Shiva Nataraja shows us, we’re here for the dance of it!

That perspective on life has shifted for me over the years. Forty years ago, I was focused on liberation—on purifying myself, transcending the world, even withdrawing from it. But now I see things differently.

What if we’re not here to become perfect?

What if we’re here to practice being ourselves—more fully, more honestly?

I’m here to practice. To refine my ability to be present. To savor life. To worry less and serve more. To understand both my light and my shadow—and to embrace all of it with wonder, awe, and gratitude.

That’s the kind of unity Tantra points to – a wholeness that includes everything.

Like water softening the earth, this approach softens the rigid parts of us. It nourishes, breaks things open, and allows new growth.

Yoga, then, becomes a way of aligning with life—of flowing with it rather than fighting it. And when we do resist (because we will), we can at least learn not to turn that resistance against ourselves.

Resistance often shows up as wanting what we don’t have or not wanting what we do have. But when we can meet this moment as it is, something shifts. We soften. We open.

We flow.

May you allow the water element to soften your resistance.

May you learn to move with your obstacles rather than against them.

May you discover the kind of unity that comes not from eliminating differences, but from embracing them.

And may you find yourself living with a little more curiosity, a little more ease, and a lot more love—for exactly who you are.

You are divine, just as you are.

If you’d like to explore this practice of flowing with life more deeply, I invite you to try Ashaya Yoga.

Keep flowing.

I hope to see you on the mat.

Namaste,

Todd