Tzu-yu was passing through Yen State when he happened upon a recent battlefield strewn with the dead. Thinking to hurry through as quickly as possible, he quickened his pace, but, amazed to hear someone singing a jolly song under nearby trees, turned aside to see what manner of man could sing amidst such carnage. Finding Chen Jen sitting against a tree and enjoying a leisurely meal he exclaimed, “What manner of man are you that can indulge in song and feasting amidst such horror!”
“Why Sir,” replied Chen Jen, “do you think that my body has ceased to hunger or my spirit to soar because of the follies of men?”
“But surely, Sir,” exclaimed Tzu-yu, “this is a place for fasting and mourning! Do you care not for the suffering of men?”
At this, Chen Jen looked down at the crumbs from his meal and said, “How then are men different from these ants, red and black, big and small, that battle over these many crumbs?” And looking up he observed dogs fighting over the carcasses of the dead and asked, “Or how do they different from these dogs, vultures and crows battling over the dinner man has chosen to provide in such abundance? Am I to forgo my evening meal because men, ants, dogs and crows do battle over what is more than enough for all?”
“But Sir!” cried Tzu-yu, “These were men like us! It is only decent that we should care for our own kind!”
To this Chen Jen replied: “If there are beings still smaller than ants that ants can, but we cannot see, would ants pay them any heed? And if there are beings, far beyond the stars, who can see us but we cannot see, would they pay us any heed? Is it not rather that neither beings smaller than ants or greater than men are of any consequence at all except to themselves, and that only by virtue of a limited view? Would you have the sage then dwell within the boundaries imposed by such a narrow view?
'All that moves beneath Heaven is of one kind.
All that moves not is of one kind.
Heaven makes no distinctions.
Heaven sheds no tears.'
Why then would one in harmony with Nature behave in any other way?
Once there was no universe and so again shall it be.
Once there was no earth and so shall it be again.
Once there were no men; do you believe that they shall forever be?
Once there was no Chen Jen and surely he shall soon cease to be.
If not-being is the root and return, how then would the man of Tao trouble himself over the petty antics of being?”
At this, Tzu-yu bowed his head and said, “Sir, I see that you are indeed a sage in harmony with the flow of Nature. I, too, seek harmony with Tao. Indeed, Sir, this very journey upon which I am now engaged is a flight from fame and fortune; for in my home city I was held in great reverence and was so set upon by praise that I could scarcely secure my heart in peace. Yet never have I arrived at such sublime indifference. Will you not teach me, that I too know such transcendence?”
“If you are indeed a sage,” replied Chen Jen, “then you must know that the Tao cannot be taught. I have nothing to teach you.
The Tao is without name.
The Nameless cannot be expressed in words.
The Tao is found in emptiness.
In emptiness there is no Tao.
Every heart is a window with its own unique view.
In emptiness find your window,
Your path will be unique to you.
Leave me, Sir, and find your own way.”
“Yet it is said,” Tzu-yu responded, “‘the kit fox learns to hunt at the vixen’s breast.’
Observing the sun in its rising and setting we learn of the day.
The moon in its waxing and waning teaches us of months.
The seasons in their rising and passing tell us of years.
Might I not likewise learn by your example?”
At this, Chen Jen relented, and together they journeyed in search of the Forest of Dark Sages.
This post is part of a series. To view the index, go here.
“Why Sir,” replied Chen Jen, “do you think that my body has ceased to hunger or my spirit to soar because of the follies of men?”
“But surely, Sir,” exclaimed Tzu-yu, “this is a place for fasting and mourning! Do you care not for the suffering of men?”
At this, Chen Jen looked down at the crumbs from his meal and said, “How then are men different from these ants, red and black, big and small, that battle over these many crumbs?” And looking up he observed dogs fighting over the carcasses of the dead and asked, “Or how do they different from these dogs, vultures and crows battling over the dinner man has chosen to provide in such abundance? Am I to forgo my evening meal because men, ants, dogs and crows do battle over what is more than enough for all?”
“But Sir!” cried Tzu-yu, “These were men like us! It is only decent that we should care for our own kind!”
To this Chen Jen replied: “If there are beings still smaller than ants that ants can, but we cannot see, would ants pay them any heed? And if there are beings, far beyond the stars, who can see us but we cannot see, would they pay us any heed? Is it not rather that neither beings smaller than ants or greater than men are of any consequence at all except to themselves, and that only by virtue of a limited view? Would you have the sage then dwell within the boundaries imposed by such a narrow view?
'All that moves beneath Heaven is of one kind.
All that moves not is of one kind.
Heaven makes no distinctions.
Heaven sheds no tears.'
Why then would one in harmony with Nature behave in any other way?
Once there was no universe and so again shall it be.
Once there was no earth and so shall it be again.
Once there were no men; do you believe that they shall forever be?
Once there was no Chen Jen and surely he shall soon cease to be.
If not-being is the root and return, how then would the man of Tao trouble himself over the petty antics of being?”
At this, Tzu-yu bowed his head and said, “Sir, I see that you are indeed a sage in harmony with the flow of Nature. I, too, seek harmony with Tao. Indeed, Sir, this very journey upon which I am now engaged is a flight from fame and fortune; for in my home city I was held in great reverence and was so set upon by praise that I could scarcely secure my heart in peace. Yet never have I arrived at such sublime indifference. Will you not teach me, that I too know such transcendence?”
“If you are indeed a sage,” replied Chen Jen, “then you must know that the Tao cannot be taught. I have nothing to teach you.
The Tao is without name.
The Nameless cannot be expressed in words.
The Tao is found in emptiness.
In emptiness there is no Tao.
Every heart is a window with its own unique view.
In emptiness find your window,
Your path will be unique to you.
Leave me, Sir, and find your own way.”
“Yet it is said,” Tzu-yu responded, “‘the kit fox learns to hunt at the vixen’s breast.’
Observing the sun in its rising and setting we learn of the day.
The moon in its waxing and waning teaches us of months.
The seasons in their rising and passing tell us of years.
Might I not likewise learn by your example?”
At this, Chen Jen relented, and together they journeyed in search of the Forest of Dark Sages.
This post is part of a series. To view the index, go here.
very good
ReplyDeleteScott, ive come back to this book for five years now.
ReplyDeleteOver and over again.
Thank you so much.
Love,
Bobby Iovtchev