Why is it said that things belonging to the Water element are “cooling, nourishing, and gentle”?In the Hong Fan (洪范), an ancient Chinese text, it states, “Water is the nourishing force below,” meaning that water is inherently cold, gentle, and flows downward. This concept extends to the idea that water-related things tend to have characteristics such as coolness, the ability to nourish, a downward flow, the power of concealment, and even the idea of endings or closure.
In the Shuo Wen Jie Zi (说文解字), an early Chinese dictionary, it is recorded that “Water is the standard,” symbolizing the collective flow of water from all directions, with a subtle, almost invisible warmth in its essence. This “subtle warmth” refers to water’s silent ability to nourish and sustain life. The North, generally known for being cold and inhospitable, is described as a place where water’s flow symbolizes its nourishing, life-giving properties.
So, wherever water is present, it nurtures and balances other things, providing them with the moisture they need to thrive. This nourishing effect is subtle, gentle, and pervasive, similar to how water gradually nurtures everything in its path without noise or haste.
If we examine water’s “nature” within the Five Elements system, we see that water is characterized by a cold, empty quality, yet it is nurturing and downward flowing by nature. This duality of being both empty and nourishing, cold yet sustaining, captures the essence of water in both its physical and metaphysical forms.
In a small town nestled in the heart of the American Midwest, there was a local café called The Oasis. The owners, Sarah and Jake, had been running it for years, but recently, something felt off. The café wasn’t buzzing like it used to, and the energy was slowly draining from both the business and their personal lives. It was as if something invisible, but powerful, was slowly sucking away their joy.
Sarah, a thoughtful and introspective woman, had always been the one to keep things going when times were tough. But lately, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. One evening, when she sat down by the window, staring at the still, foggy landscape outside, she remembered a conversation she’d had with her grandmother, a woman who had always been full of wisdom about life.
“Sarah, you know how the seasons change, right?” her grandmother had said once. “Each one has its purpose. But what you might not know is that there’s a secret power behind these shifts, a quiet force that flows in everything. In ancient cultures, they called it the Five Elements. And the one that you’re feeling, that subtle change, is Water.”
Water. Sarah had always loved being near lakes and rivers, their quiet flow providing a sense of calm. But she hadn’t considered how powerful water could be in a broader sense, as a force that shapes everything around it, from the environment to the people in it.
So, Sarah decided to take a break from the café one afternoon and visit a nearby lake, hoping to clear her mind. The air was crisp, and the water was calm—too calm. As she sat by the shore, something about the scene felt different, like the water was waiting for her to notice something. She thought back to her grandmother’s words, “Water nourishes and nurtures; it’s gentle but unyielding. It’s cold, yes, but it flows with purpose. It’s the force that creates balance, but it never shouts about it.”
As Sarah watched the water, it became clearer. She had been focusing too much on the noise of running the café, trying to force things into place, while ignoring the quiet, nurturing force that could help her bring balance back. She wasn’t giving her business—or herself—the care and space to flow naturally.
That evening, Sarah returned home and sat down with Jake. The two of them had been through a lot together, but something had been missing in their connection recently. “Jake,” Sarah began softly, “I think I’ve figured out what’s been wrong.” Jake looked up, curious but exhausted.
“The café, us… we’ve been trying so hard to make things work, but we’ve been pushing too hard. Like water, we need to be gentler with ourselves. We need to let things flow, instead of forcing everything. Water doesn’t rush; it moves quietly and nourishes without us even realizing it.”
Jake looked at her, a little skeptical but intrigued. “So, you’re saying we’ve been too rigid? Too cold?”
“Exactly. I think we’ve been so focused on the practical side of things that we’ve ignored the emotional side. We need to let go of some of our control and trust that things will work out when we allow them to. Like water, we need to embrace the flow of life, not fight it.”
Sarah’s words hung in the air for a moment. Jake’s eyes softened, and he nodded slowly. “I get it. It’s like we’ve been treating the café like a machine, but it’s more than that. We need to nurture it. Maybe we need to make our space feel more… peaceful, like water. Calm, nourishing. Let it flow naturally.”
The next day, they made small changes. They rearranged the furniture, added a few more plants to bring in some life, and made the atmosphere warmer—colder things had no place here anymore. They also took some time to reconnect with their customers, listening to their needs instead of pushing products. Slowly, they began to feel the shift. The café became a sanctuary again, a place where people could come to relax and feel nurtured. But more than that, Sarah and Jake started to feel nourished themselves. The balance was being restored.
As the days went on, the couple began to realize something profound: Water may be cold in nature, but its true power lies in its ability to gently nurture and restore balance. It doesn’t rush, doesn’t shout, and doesn’t force its way through. It simply flows, quietly and steadily, creating space for growth and healing.
The emotional breakthrough didn’t happen overnight, but with every small step they took to embrace the quiet strength of water, they found their café—and their relationship—beginning to bloom once again. They had rediscovered the essence of what had been missing all along: the subtle power of nurturing and flow. And it was, in fact, the very thing that had the power to heal and transform them both.