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Skilled masters of old were subtle, Mysteriously powerful. So deep they were unknowable. Just because they are unknowable, All we can do is describe their appearance. Their alertness was as that of one crossing frozen river, Watchful, like men/women aware of surrounding dangers, Courteous, like visiting guests. Their relaxation was as that of ice at it’s melting point. Simple as uncarved wood, open as the valleys, They were as inscrutable as muddy waters. Who can wait quietly while the mud settles and the water clears? Who can, long at rest, use the gradual enlivening of movement? Those who preserve this Way (Tao) do not want fullness. Just because they do not want fullness, They can avoid wearing out and being replaced.