When Life Becomes One Big Cul-de-Sac
Dead-End or Divine Detour?
I grew up on a cul-de-sac in Columbus, Ohio. The kind with a big circle at the end, perfect for neighborhood kickball games, bike tricks, and watching summer thunderstorms roll in.
That circular street felt safe—contained, predictable, like the world would always end neatly where it began. But as I’ve walked further along the winding path of life, I’ve come to see that a cul-de-sac isn’t just a suburban design—it’s a Taoist metaphor, hiding in plain sight.
Not a Dead End, But a Loop Back
In Western thought, a cul-de-sac often implies failure: a dead end, a project that leads nowhere. But in Taoism, what may seem like an end is often a return.
The Tao Te Ching tells us, “Returning is the motion of the Tao.” A cul-de-sac is just that—a return loop. You drive in thinking you’re moving forward, only to arrive at a circle, a mandala of reflection, and then you have to turn around. Not to regress, but to begin again with deeper awareness.
When I think of the cul-de-sac from my Columbus childhood, I think of the countless laps I made around it—on my purple ten-speed bike, trying to outpace time itself.
I remember thinking I was going somewhere new every time I took that curve a little faster. Only years later did I realize how many of those childhood rides were my first Taoist lessons: that even looping back can be a form of progress.
Zhuangzi’s Butterfly and the Circle Within
Zhuangzi, with his dream of being a butterfly, reminds us that boundaries are illusions, that distinctions between arrival and departure, forward and backward, are man-made. The cul-de-sac is not confinement but contemplation. It’s the butterfly wing fluttering in place, not to flee, but to feel.
I once lived in a sleek high-rise in Denver, many floors up and many miles from Columbus. It was all sharp lines, vertical ambition, and forward-thinking people who hadn’t paused in years.
Yet, the more I ascended, the more I craved the quiet circle of that cul-de-sac. I began to see that while skyscrapers are for climbing, cul-de-sacs are for grounding. The Tao doesn’t always reward elevation. Sometimes it blesses those who circle back to stillness.
Confucius and the Ethics of the Pause
Even Confucius, often painted as the straight-laced rule-keeper to Taoism’s wild mystic flow, had reverence for the pause, the reflective moment before the next step. He taught that ritual and right conduct are most meaningful when rooted in self-awareness. What better ritual than walking that slow evening loop around a cul-de-sac, watching dusk settle like a silk robe over the neighborhood?
I remember my father doing just that. After long days working at Ohio State, he’d take slow walks around our block, hands clasped behind his back, as if tracing an invisible circle of protection.
Maybe he wasn’t just unwinding. Maybe he was teaching us the unwritten Confucian-Taoist code: that wisdom isn’t always linear. Sometimes it’s circular. Sometimes, the real journey begins when you stop trying to get somewhere.
Life’s Cul-de-Sacs: Lessons in Disguise
We all have our metaphorical cul-de-sacs—relationships that taught us hard truths, jobs that looped us back to ourselves, detours that became revelations. I once moved to South Bend, Indiana, chasing a life that didn’t pan out.
At first, it felt like a dead end. But within that quiet, wintry stillness, I encountered devas, discovered Taoist texts buried in used bookstores, and reconnected with parts of myself long forgotten. That cul-de-sac held a deeper destination than I could see at first.
Return Without Regret
The Tao invites us to dance with paradox. To see that the “wrong turn” might be the right path. That a cul-de-sac isn’t a mistake but a mirror. A place to turn around, not because we failed, but because we’re being called back to our center.
So the next time you find yourself on a road that curves back toward where you began, don’t curse it. Embrace the circle. The Tao moves not in straight lines, but in spirals, seasons, and yes—cul-de-sacs.
You’re not lost. You’re returning.
Hey, if you’re digging the Daily Chocolate Taoist vibe, then consider becoming a $6.00/month or $60.00/year member supporter to help keep this full-time indie writer caffeinated and creating. And if you’re feeling a little mischievous, feel free to toss in a bit of dirty chai latte fuel into the mix. Because every sip of my favorite drink will help to keep my Taoist adventure rolling.
Diamond Michael Scott — aka The Chocolate Taoist
I live on a cul-de-sac, but more toward the bouche than the cul, and one of the delights is, indeed, an an evening walk to the bottom of the street and back up to the cross-street and then on home; meeting neighbors, sometimes, including dogs; admiring the obsessively manicured lawns; and generally communing with the way.