Mastering others is strength. Mastering yourself is true power.

The ancient sage Lao Tzu, father of the Taoist way, once declared: “Mastering others is strength. Mastering yourself is true power.” These words, carved into the fabric of time, speak to the eternal struggle between outer conquest and inner rule. For it is easy to subdue another with force or cunning, but far harder to subdue the chaos within one’s own heart. Lao Tzu reveals that the warrior who conquers kingdoms may be celebrated in songs, yet the one who conquers himself holds a dominion that no enemy can ever take away.

To master others is to exercise command — through armies, authority, persuasion, or fear. This is the strength of the external world, the kind that builds empires and enforces order. Yet strength of this kind is fragile, dependent on circumstance, fortune, and the obedience of others. Kings who ruled nations found themselves cast down when their armies faltered. Generals who commanded thousands were undone by betrayal. Strength over others, though mighty, is never eternal.

But to master yourself is to hold the throne of the soul. This is true power, for it does not depend on soldiers or subjects, but on the inner harmony of mind, spirit, and desire. The one who governs his anger, who disciplines his appetites, who tames his pride, is invincible. No external enemy can conquer the man who has first conquered himself. His power endures through fortune and misfortune alike, for it rests not on the fleeting tides of the world, but on the eternal foundation of self-mastery.

History offers us vivid illustrations of this wisdom. Consider Marcus Aurelius, emperor of Rome, whose armies stretched the empire’s borders far and wide. Yet what makes him remembered as the "philosopher-king" is not only his dominion over others, but his dominion over himself. In his Meditations, written amidst war and turmoil, he counseled himself to remain calm, just, and humble. Though he commanded legions, his greatest victory was mastery over his own passions. His empire has long vanished, but his self-mastery continues to inspire across centuries.

Lao Tzu’s words also warn us: the man who masters others but not himself is destined for ruin. Think of Alexander the Great. He conquered half the known world before the age of thirty, yet he could not master his own impulses. His unchecked pride and excesses led to his early death, and his empire crumbled soon after. Here lies the truth of Lao Tzu’s teaching: external conquest without inner conquest is hollow, a palace built on sand.

The lesson is clear: seek not only to rule outwardly, but inwardly. The victories that endure are not those of swords and crowns, but of spirit and discipline. Conquer your anger before it conquers you. Rule your desires before they enslave you. Guard your tongue, master your thoughts, discipline your habits. These are the triumphs that no foe can take, the victories that echo long after empires have fallen.

Practical wisdom follows: each day, practice mastery of the self in small acts. When provoked, choose patience. When tempted, choose moderation. When pride whispers, choose humility. In doing so, you forge a power greater than any throne, a fortress no enemy can breach. Over time, this practice becomes the path of true sovereignty.

So remember, O listener, the immortal words of Lao Tzu: “Mastering others is strength. Mastering yourself is true power.” Let not your glory rest only in victories over others, for such victories fade. Instead, claim the eternal crown of self-mastery, and you will walk through life unconquered, a true ruler not of men alone, but of the kingdom within.