Many think that this means in some way resigning oneself to one's fate, but this view is quite wrong!
It is all about not impeding what would happen of its own accord on the basis of our preparatory work and prior assessments.
Instead of disrupting the expected by blind action, the point is to do as little as possible, and less and less.
The paradox says: "Do nothing, and nothing is not done". 
It is the insignificant word "and" that harbours the meaning. It indicates that the two seeming contradictions – "doing nothing" and "doing everything" – cancel each other out in Taoism. Not doing and its opposite, doing, are both possible. The best result is achieved by just doing as little as possible. It enables you to "have your cake and eat it", as the saying goes.
To hit somebody I must first release his arm, which means that he can use the arm I have released to prevent my attack.
If you hold somebody, you are being held. The WT beginner learns this at a very early stage. If you try to control the other person (too much), you are also being controlled by the other person.
Because as soon as you do something, what you have not done, or refrained from doing, immediately becomes a factor.
If you close one of the opposing doors in WT, you are automatically opening the other one. As soon as you do one thing, the other thing you have not done appears in the equation. To catch hold of something, you must first let something else go. Gaining one thing means losing something else. Everything you actively do works against your intentions by creating its opposite.
According to paradoxical Chinese martial arts philosophy, it is only if you literally do nothing that nothing is left undone, and nothing impedes what you intended.
Not-doing is what the non-strategy of WT teaches us.
The point in WingTsun is to recognise and exploit the impulses of the opponent, but give him nothing he can use in return. We can achieve this by giving him as little information as possible, or at most indirect information. While direct impulses are transferred by arm movements, thrusting or pulling, whole-body movements (such as sinking) only provide indirect data that are hard to interpret. The opponent receives no tangible template to which he can respond. Our actions are not so much actions as assisted developments. This is what one might call "acting without acting" in WT: we flow down onto him like water, because he is simply on a lower level. Doing without doing means accompanying the natural process, and assisting it if necessary, by removing any obstacles to it and helping the development to grow, like pushing a swing. The earlier we imperceptibly accompany the process, the better we can lend a hand at the right time if its pace slackens. Accordingly our movements must be soft and round, not hard and angular.
As round and soft as those of a snake, or of a Chinese (!) dragon. The adaptable, supple, snake-like body of the Chinese dragon has no fixed shape. All directions are contained within it. It contracts and stretches, it goes forward and backwards, it blends into the clouds and is hardly recognisable. In strategic terms, moving like the unendingly supple dragon means not wasting our energy on individual, specific actions, but rather accompanying things as they develop, using renewal, change and tipping points to achieve our own, continuous development.
We must become one with the unpredictable sequence of events, and constantly adapt ourselves to the constantly changing situation by changing ourselves. Which not only requires mental flexibility, but in WT also physical flexibility. Anybody who has a fixed shape with edges and contours, and enters the lists with a preconceived view or plan, has just as little chance as someone who wants to be proactive. If we want to be at one with what is happening, and free from intentions (ChiSao), we must give up any thought of action (Yang) in favour of reaction (Yin).
Acting (starting) is only the best strategy for beginners! For the advanced student and for close combat – where contact has already been made – the one who wants to move first is running a risk. He is obliged to reveal himself by adopting a fixed form, by more or less obviously indicating a tendency, and we can follow this and use it to our advantage. While he expends energy in making change happen by force, we merely accompany the process he has initiated – which requires hardly any energy.
The person initiating action must invest a great deal of energy in his opening attack. This energy is much more useful to the reactor, however, as he can direct it back to the actor without friction losses, and the latter has hardly any means of protection because it is his own action!
The attacker must formulate a plan, define an intention and implement it, which necessarily not only leads to loss of flexibility, but also requires a great deal of energy and preparation time (even if unconsciously). The defender is always faster in his adaptive response, as he does not need to formulate a plan, he simply reacts to what comes and "reveals itself" to him. By virtue of his mental and physical preparation, the reactor is sensitive enough to cope with any manifestations that present themselves.
Business management strategists sometimes refer to the "first-mover advantage", i.e. the advantage gained by the one who makes the first move, and this is certainly valid; there is no doubt that a business that is first to enter and develop a market achieves an advantage that is hard to match. The Internet mail order business Amazon was the first to sell books in this way. Although it now has a number of strong competitors, these are having trouble in growing beyond their secondary role as "me-toos", i.e. imitators. 
In WT we do not see defending and reacting as "following-after", but as "going with" – impelled by the "first mover" whose energy we like to borrow.

Keith R. Kernspecht