Lao Tzu — holding awareness of impermanence and being empty for the new

I follow the teachings of Lao Tzu, and one of the key things I took from him is to constantly hold awareness of life's impermanence. Not as an abstract thesis "well, someday I'll die," but as a living, daily feeling that this moment, this day — is passing and will never repeat. What I fear most is falling into mundane unconscious routine. That's when you live but don't pay attention to the fact that you're living. I call it foggy consciousness — a state where awareness is almost open, but not enough to live fully. You sort of see something, you sort of already understood that life is short and precious — but most days of the year still pass on autopilot. Woke up, did stuff, lay down, woke up, did stuff, lay down. And so 6 days out of 7. It's hard to explain in words, because in this state there's nothing "bad" on the outside — everything works, nothing falls apart, the person functions. But internally they aren't there. They're absent from their own life. This is the worst that can happen — not death, but to live life as if in a dream, not noticing that it was going by. Lao Tzu teaches the opposite: be present here, in this moment, with full focus and the consciousness that the moment is temporary, and therefore precious. The second thing I learned from Lao Tzu is to always be empty in the context of being filled with knowledge. To keep space inside yourself for the new. To be open. And here one big clarification is important, because this is often misunderstood: it's not about being a pushover, agreeing with everyone, "whatever you say." This is not submissiveness, not spinelessness, not absence of a position. It's about behavior that shows you genuinely want to learn something from every person you meet. To listen instead of waiting for your turn to speak. To ask instead of arguing. To notice: "oh, this one does this little thing differently than I do — and why? Maybe there's something in it." To not approach a person with the ready-made plug "I already know everything anyway." Because you can learn from anyone. It doesn't matter what kind of person it is — smart or stupid, successful or a failure, kind or nasty. Everyone has something. The stupid one might have an incredible sense of humor. The failure — a deeper understanding of why the system doesn't work, better than the one who won inside it. The nasty one — a clear strategy of cold decisions that you may be lacking. Every person is a library with at least one rare book, and your task is to be able to see that book and take from it what is useful. Most people take nothing, because right off the bat they classify their interlocutor as "not worthy" and switch off their attention. That is dead consciousness. And this, in my opinion, is the strongest skill there can be: the ability to absorb the right qualities from others into yourself. Not to copy words, not to repeat phrases — but to notice useful patterns, models of behavior, reactions, decisions, and integrate them into your operating system. Every encounter is an upgrade if you're tuned to look that way. But if you walk into any conversation from the position of "I'm the smartest one here" — you automatically get nothing, even if a genius is sitting across from you. So emptiness is strength, not weakness. It is readiness to receive. It is a constant place for growth. Lao Tzu, as always, said it shorter and more beautifully than me, but the essence is the same.