The Outline said to the Shadow, ‘First you are on the move, then you are standing still; you sit down and then you stand up. Why can’t you make up your mind?’
Shadow replied, ‘Do I have to look to something else to be what I am? Does this something else itself not have to rely upon yet another something? Do I have to depend upon the scales of a snake or the wings of a cicada? How can I tell how things are? How can I tell how things are not?’
Once upon a time, I, Chuang Tzu, dreamt that I was a butterfly, flitting around and enjoying myself. I had no idea I was Chuang Tzu. Then suddenly I woke up and was Chuang Tzu again. But I could not tell, had I been Chuang Tzu dreaming I was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming I was now Chuang Tzu? However, there must be some sort of difference between Chuang Tzu and a butterfly! We call this the transformation of things.
CHAPTER 3
The Nurturing of Life
Our life has a boundary but there is no boundary to knowledge.
To use what has a boundary to pursue what is limitless is dangerous;
with this knowledge, if we still go after knowledge, we will run into trouble.
Do not do what is good in order to gain praise.
If you do what is bad be sure to avoid the punishment.
Follow the Middle Course, for this is the way to keep yourself together,
to sustain your life, to care for your parents and to live for many years.
Cook Ting was butchering an ox for Lord Wen Hui. Every movement of his hand, every shrug of his shoulder, every step of his feet, every thrust of his knee, every sound of the sundering flesh and the swoosh of the descending knife, were all in perfect accord, like the Mulberry Grove Dance or the rhythm of the Ching-shou.15
‘Ah, how excellent!’ said Lord Wen Hui. ‘How has your skill become so superb?’
Cook Ting put down his knife and said, ‘What your servant loves best is the Tao, which is better than any art. When I started to cut up oxen, what I saw was just a complete ox. After three years, I had learnt not to see the ox as whole. Now I practise with my mind, not with my eyes. I ignore my sense and follow my spirit. I see the natural lines and my knife slides through the great hollows, follows the great cavities, using that which is already there to my advantage. Thus, I miss the great sinews and even more so, the great bones. A good cook changes his knife annually, because he slices. An ordinary cook has to change his knife every month, because he hacks. Now this knife of mine I have been using for nineteen years, and it has cut thousands of oxen. However, its blade is as sharp as if it had just been sharpened. Between the joints there are spaces, and the blade of a knife has no real thickness. If you put what has no thickness into spaces such as these, there is plenty of room, certainly enough for the knife to work through. However, when I come to a difficult part and can see that it will be difficult, I take care and pay due regard. I look carefully and I move with caution. Then, very gently, I move the knife until there is a parting and the flesh falls apart like a lump of earth falling to the ground. I stand with the knife in my hand looking around and then, with an air of satisfaction, I wipe the knife and put it away.’
‘Splendid!’ said Lord Wen Hui. ‘I have heard what cook Ting has to say and from his words I have learned how to live life fully.’
When Kung Wen Hsien saw the Commander of the Right he was surprised and said, ‘Who is this man? Why has he only got one foot? Is this from Heaven or from man?’16
‘From Heaven, not from man,’ said the Commander. ‘My life came from Heaven, which also gave me just one foot. The human appearance is a gift, which is why I know that this is from Heaven, not from man. The marsh pheasant manages one peck every ten paces, and one drink every hundred steps, but it does not wish to be kept in a cage. Even if you treated it like a king, its spirit would not be happy.’
When Lao Tzu died, Chin Shih came to mourn for him. He uttered three shouts and then left.
A follower of the Master said, ‘Wasn’t the Master a friend of yours?’
‘Certainly,’ he replied.
‘Then do you really think this way of mourning is best?’
‘Certainly. To begin with I thought these were real men, but now I am not so sure. When I came in to mourn, there were old folk weeping as though they had lost a child; there were young people wailing as if for the loss of a mother. Such a gathering of everyone, all talking away though he didn’t ask them to talk and weeping even though he didn’t ask for tears! This is to turn from Heaven and to indulge in emotions, ignoring what is given. The ancient ones called this the result of violating the principles of Heaven. When the Master came, it was because he was due to be born. When he died, it was entirely natural. If you are prepared to accept this and flow with it, then sorrow and joy cannot touch you. The ancient ones considered this the work of the gods who free us from bondage.
‘We can point to the wood that has been burned, but when the fire has passed on, we cannot know where it has gone.’
CHAPTER 4
Out and About in the World
Yen Hui17 went
