The Boatman Calls: A Lesson on Letting Go and Moving Freely

“Anything you can’t control is teaching you how to let go.” — Jackson Kiddard

Long ago in China, a monk named John Li set out on a journey to a distant province, but he had no idea how to steer a boat.

So, he turned to his master and asked, “Will you teach me?”

The master shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” he said. “But I’ll tell you what — go down the shore, and you’ll find a peculiar boatman — He’ll show you the way.”

John Li was puzzled. 

“A boatman? 

What kind of boatman?”

The master smiled, then said, I’ll put it this way: “Above him, there is no roof. Below him, not even a pin’s worth of space. 

And he may look like an ordinary man, but speak with him—you’ll see.”

Then added, “You can play with the silken line at the end of the rod, but if you disturb the clear water, you’ll have lost your way. And if you get caught up in ideas of existence or non-existence, you’ll be cooked for dinner.”

John Li had no idea what any of that meant, but he followed his master’s advice.

For days, John Li stayed with the boatman.

They drifted along the river, sometimes talking, other times sitting in silence.

He never received formal lessons from the boatman—just time on the water, observing, being, and letting go.

The Boatman Calls. A Lesson on Letting Go and Moving Freely

One morning, as the sun rose, they reached the shore.

John Li stepped out of the boat, thanked the boatman, said his goodbyes, and casually told him not to give him another thought.

As John walked away, he turned back for one last look, just in time to see the boatman standing in the middle of the river. 

He waved, then rocked the boat until it capsized.

John Li stood there, waiting for him to surface. 

But he never did. 

Only the overturned boat remained, drifting slowly downstream until it disappeared from his sight.

…

The Boatman Calls. A Lesson on Letting Go and Moving Freely

The lesson in this story goes beyond just steering a boat. 

In retrospect, the boatman was showing John Li how to navigate life itself.

Just like a boat floating freely on the river, we must go with the flow, without disturbing the water, leaving no traces — no attachments, no clinging, and no unnecessary weight. 

This is because if we get caught up in labels, in ideas of what “should be,” we then now trap ourselves. 

But when we let go, when we stop resisting, we become part of the river itself — effortless, free, and always moving forward.

In the end, when the boatman disappears into the river without a trace, he leaves us with a powerful lesson: not to cling too tightly, not to overthink, and not to try to force things. Because the more we try to control life, the more it will slip through our fingers. If instead, we learn to move with the current — without resistance, without fear — we discover real freedom, just like the boatman.

The Boatman Calls. A Lesson on Letting Go and Moving Freel