Understanding Life XIX

One who understands the reality of life does not pursue what life cannot accomplish; one who understands the reality of fate does not pursue what wisdom cannot change. To nourish the body, one must first have material resources, yet there are cases where resources are abundant but the body is not nourished. To preserve life, one must first not abandon the body, yet there are cases where the body is not abandoned but life has already perished. Life’s arrival cannot be declined, and life’s departure cannot be stopped. How lamentable! People of the world believe that nourishing the body is enough to preserve life, yet if nourishing the body is truly insufficient to preserve life, then what in the world is worth doing? Though it is not worth doing, it cannot be left undone—thus doing it inevitably brings toil.

To avoid toiling for the body, it is better to abandon worldly affairs. Abandoning worldly affairs leaves no entanglements; no entanglements brings a balanced mind and upright spirit; a balanced mind and upright spirit allows one to transform and renew with nature; transforming and renewing with nature brings one close to the Way. Why should worldly affairs be abandoned? Why should life be forgotten? Abandoning worldly affairs, the body is not wearied; forgetting life, the spirit is not depleted. When the body is whole and the spirit is restored, one can merge with the Way of Heaven. Heaven and Earth are the parents of all things. Yin and Yang unite to form the body; Yin and Yang disperse to return to the origin. When both body and spirit are undiminished, this is called being able to follow transformation. When the spirit is cultivated to the utmost purity, it in turn assists nature.

Liezi asked Guan Yin, saying: “The Perfect Man walks underwater without choking, treads on fire without feeling heat, and moves among the myriad things without trembling. May I ask how he attains this state?”

Guan Yin said: “This comes from holding to pure qi, not from cleverness or daring. Sit down, and I will tell you! All things that have form, sound, and color are objects. How far apart are objects from one another? What makes one superior to another? They are merely shapes and colors. That which produces things arises from the formless and stops where there is no change. If a person can comprehend this principle and exhaust it, then how can external things constrain him? He will abide in the measure of impartiality, hide in the cycle of endlessness, and roam in the beginning and end of all things. He unifies his nature, nourishes his qi, harmonizes his virtue, and thereby penetrates the source from which all things are born. Such a person—his nature is fully preserved, his spirit has no gap—how can external things invade him?

“A drunken man who falls from a carriage may be injured but does not die. His bones and joints are the same as others, yet the injury he receives is different—because his spirit is whole. He did not know when he mounted the carriage, nor when he fell; thoughts of death, life, fear, or alarm do not enter his mind, so he encounters things without terror. If even a man drunk on wine can achieve such wholeness of spirit, how much more one who achieves it through the Way? The sage hides himself in the Way, so nothing can harm him. The avenger does not break the Mo Ye sword; even the resentful do not blame falling tiles. Thus, the world is at peace. So there are no wars of attack, no punishments of execution—all because of this principle.

“Do not open up human cleverness, but open up the natural heavenly nature. He who opens up heavenly nature grows in virtue; he who opens up human cleverness breeds disaster. If one is not dissatisfied with the natural heavenly nature and does not neglect human cleverness, the people may come close to preserving their purity.”

Confucius was traveling to Chu. Emerging from a forest, he saw a hunchbacked old man catching cicadas with a sticky pole, as easily as picking them up.

Confucius said: “How skillful you are! Is there a method to this?”

The old man said: “I have a method. After five or six months, I can stack two pellets on the pole’s tip without them falling—then I seldom miss. Stacking three without falling—then I miss only one in ten. Stacking five without falling—then it becomes as easy as picking them up. I settle my body like a withered tree stump; I raise my arm like a withered branch. Though Heaven and Earth are vast and the myriad things numerous, I am aware only of the cicada’s wings. I do not turn or glance aside, nor do I trade the cicada’s wings for any other thing—how could I fail to get it?”

Confucius turned to his disciples and said: “When the mind is undivided, it concentrates the spirit. This is what the hunchbacked old man means!”

Yan Hui asked Confucius, saying: “I once crossed the deep gulf at Shangshen. The boatman handled the boat like a spirit. I asked him: ‘Can boat-handling be learned?’ He said: ‘Yes. Those who can swim will learn it after a few tries. As for those who can dive, even if they have never seen a boat, they can handle it at once.’ I asked him further, but he did not tell me. May I ask what this means?”

Confucius said: “Those who can swim learn it after a few tries because they have forgotten the water. As for those who can dive and can handle a boat without ever having seen one—they regard the deep gulf as a hill, and the capsizing of a boat as a cart backing up. The myriad situations of capsizing and backing up all appear before them, yet none can enter their minds—how could they not be at ease? He who gambles with tiles as stakes is clever; he who gambles with belt-hooks is fearful; he who gambles with gold is bewildered. Their skill is the same, yet they are distracted—because they value the stakes too much. Whoever values external things will be clumsy within.”

Tian Kaizhi had an audience with Duke Wei of Zhou. The Duke said: “I have heard that Zhu Shen studies the art of nourishing life. You have associated with Zhu Shen—have you heard anything about it?” Tian Kaizhi said: “I merely hold a broom and attend to the gate—how could I have heard anything from the Master?”

The Duke said: “Master Tian, do not be modest. I wish to hear it.”

Tian Kaizhi said: “I have heard the Master say: ‘One who is good at nourishing life is like a shepherd—when he sees a straggler, he whips it.’”

The Duke said: “What does that mean?”

Tian Kaizhi said: “In Lu, there was a man named Shan Bao. He lived in a mountain cave, drank spring water, and did not contend with the people for profit. At seventy, he still had the complexion of an infant. Unfortunately, he met a starving tiger, and the tiger devoured him. There was another man named Zhang Yi. He frequented every household, great or small, and at forty died of an internal fever. Shan Bao nurtured his inner self, but was eaten by the tiger on the outside; Zhang Yi nurtured his outer self, but was attacked by disease within. Neither of these two men whipped what lagged behind in themselves.”

Confucius said: “Do not retreat into deep seclusion in the mountains, nor go forth to display yourself openly, but stand like withered wood between the two. If all three of these conditions are met, one’s fame will surely reach the highest. Those who fear the road—if one in ten travelers is killed, fathers and sons, elder and younger brothers will warn each other, and they will gather in large numbers before daring to go out—is this not wise? Yet what people most ought to fear lies on the mat and pillow, in eating and drinking—and they do not know to beware of this—this is a mistake!”

The invocator of the ancestral temple, dressed in a black robe, went to the pigpen and said to the pigs: “Why do you fear death? I will fatten you for three months, then fast for ten days, then fast for three more days, spread white rushes, and place your shoulders and rumps on the carved sacrificial stand—would you be willing to do this?” If he were planning for the pigs, he would say it is better to feed them with husks and chaff and keep them in the pen. If planning for himself, he would wish to live with the honor of high office and rich salary, and after death to be adorned on the hearse and within the inner and outer coffins—and so he would be willing to do this. For the pigs he abandons these things, but for himself he seeks them—how is this different from the pigs?

Duke Huan of Qi was hunting in a marsh, with Guan Zhong driving the chariot. The Duke saw a ghost. He grasped Guan Zhong’s hand and said: “Father Zhong, what did you see?” Guan Zhong replied: “Your servant saw nothing.”

The Duke returned home, lost his wits, fell ill, and did not leave his house for several days. A scholar of Qi, Huangzi Gao’ao, said: “Your Grace is harming yourself—how could a ghost harm you? When pent-up qi disperses but does not return, the vital energy becomes insufficient; when qi rises but does not descend, it makes a person prone to anger; when qi descends but does not rise, it makes a person prone to forgetfulness; when qi neither rises nor descends but lodges in the middle of the body at the heart, it causes illness.”

The Duke said: “Then are there ghosts?”

The prince said, "There is. A 'Lü' ghost dwells in the ditch. A 'Ji' ghost dwells at the hearth. In the cluttered area inside the gate, the Thunder-ghost lives there; beneath the northeastern wall, the Bei'a and Guilong leap out; beneath the northwestern wall, the Yiyang ghost lives there. In the water there is Wangxiang; on the hills there is the Xin ghost; in the mountains there is the Kui ghost; in the wilds there is the Panghuang; in the marshes there is the Weiyi."

Duke Huan said, "May I ask what the shape of Weiyi is like?"

The prince said, "Weiyi is as big as a chariot hub, as long as a chariot shaft, wearing a purple robe and a red cap. This creature detests the sound of thunderous chariots; hearing it, it holds its head and stands still. Whoever sees it may become a hegemon."

Duke Huan laughed joyfully and said, "That is exactly what I saw." Then he straightened his robe and cap, sat down with the prince and Gao'ao, and before the day was out, his illness was cured.

Ji Shengzi trained fighting cocks for King Xuan of Zhou. After ten days, the king asked, "Are the cocks ready?" Ji Shengzi said, "Not yet. They are still arrogant and rely on their spirit."

After another ten days, the king asked again. Ji Shengzi said, "Not yet. They still react when they hear sounds or see shadows."

After another ten days, he asked again. Ji Shengzi said, "Not yet. They still glare and are full of aggression."

After another ten days, he asked again. Ji Shengzi said, "Almost ready. When other cocks crow, it shows no change; it looks like a wooden cock. Its virtue is complete. Other cocks dare not face it; they all turn and run away."

Confucius was touring at Lüliang. A waterfall hung thirty ren high, and the rushing foam stretched for forty li. Even alligators, turtles, fish, and soft-shelled turtles could not swim there. He saw a man swimming in the water and thought he was suffering hardship and trying to drown himself. He sent his disciples to follow the current to rescue him. The man swam several hundred paces before emerging, walked along with his hair loose, singing, and wandered at the foot of the embankment. Confucius followed and asked him, "I thought you were a ghost, but upon closer look, you are a man. May I ask, is there a way to tread water?"

The man said, "No, I have no way. I began with what is natural, grew up following my nature, and succeeded through fate. I enter with the whirlpools and emerge with the currents, following the water's flow without acting on my own will. This is how I tread water."

Confucius said, "What do you mean by 'began with what is natural, grew up following my nature, and succeeded through fate'?"

The man said, "I was born on the hills and was content with the hills—that is what is natural. I grew up by the water and was content by the water—that is my nature. I do not know why it is so, yet it is so—that is fate."

Zi Qing carved wood to make a bell stand. When the bell stand was finished, those who saw it marveled as if it were the work of spirits. The Marquis of Lu saw it and asked, "What technique did you use to make it?" Zi Qing replied, "I am a craftsman; what technique do I have! Even so, there is something. When I am about to make a bell stand, I dare not waste my vital energy; I must fast to quiet my mind. After fasting for three days, I no longer harbor thoughts of reward, rank, or emolument. After fasting for five days, I no longer harbor thoughts of praise, blame, skill, or clumsiness. After fasting for seven days, I completely forget that I have a body and limbs. At that time, I have no thought of the court or the public. My skill becomes concentrated, and external distractions vanish. Then I enter the mountain forest and observe the natural qualities of the trees. When I see a form and trunk that are most suitable, a complete bell stand appears before my eyes. Then I set to work; otherwise, I stop. This is using my naturalness to match the tree's naturalness. The reason the object is suspected to be divine work is probably because of this!"

Dongye Ji presented his driving skill to Duke Zhuang of Lu. Advancing and retreating were as straight as a chalk line; turning left and right were as precise as a compass. Duke Zhuang thought that even Zaofu could not surpass him. He ordered him to drive a hundred circles and then return.

Yan He met Dongye Ji and came in to see Duke Zhuang, saying, "Dongye Ji's horses are about to fail." Duke Zhuang remained silent.

After a while, the horses indeed failed and returned. Duke Zhuang said, "How did you know?"

Yan He said, "His horses' strength was exhausted, yet he still made them run. That is why I said they would fail."

Gong Chui could draw a circle with his finger that surpassed one made with a compass. His finger and the object he made became one, without needing to think or measure. Thus his mind was concentrated and unfettered. When you forget your feet, shoes are comfortable. When you forget your waist, the belt is comfortable. When you forget right and wrong, the mind is comfortable. When the mind is not shaken within, and external things are not pursued, everything is comfortable. To be comfortable from the start and never feel uncomfortable—this is forgetting comfort itself.

There was a man named Sun Xiu who visited Zi Bian Qingzi and said in astonishment, "In my village, no one speaks ill of my conduct. When faced with danger, no one says I lack courage. Yet when I till the fields, I never meet a good harvest; when I serve a ruler, I never meet a good era. I am ostracized by my fellow villagers and expelled by the district officials. What have I done to offend Heaven? Why have I encountered such a fate?"

Bianzi said, "Have you never heard how the Perfect Man conducts himself? He forgets his own liver and gall, abandons his own ears and eyes, wanders aimlessly beyond the dust and dirt, and roams freely in the realm of non-action. This is what is meant by acting without relying, achieving without presiding. Now you adorn your wisdom to frighten the foolish, cultivate yourself to highlight others' filth, and shine brightly as if holding the sun and moon as you walk. You have managed to preserve your body, possess the nine orifices, and not die midway from deafness, blindness, or lameness, and you are counted among the ranks of men—this is already fortunate. What leisure do you have to complain about Heaven? Go away!"

After Sun Xiu left, Bianzi returned to his house. He sat for a while, then looked up to heaven and sighed. A disciple asked, "Why does the Master sigh?"

Bianzi said, "Just now Sun Xiu came, and I told him about the virtue of the Perfect Man. I fear he may be startled and fall into confusion."

The disciple said, "That is not so. If what Sun Xiu said was right and what the Master said was wrong, then what is wrong cannot confuse what is right. If what Sun Xiu said was wrong and what the Master said was right, then he was already confused when he came. Why should you blame yourself?"

Bianzi said, "Not so. Once a bird alighted in the outskirts of Lu. The Duke of Lu liked it very much. He prepared a grand sacrifice of ox, sheep, and pig to feast it and played the music of the Nine Shao to delight it. But the bird became sad and distressed, dizzy and unable to eat or drink. This is called nourishing a bird with the way one nourishes oneself. If one were to nourish a bird in the way of nourishing a bird, one should let it perch in deep forests, float on rivers and lakes, and feed it with wriggling snakes. Then it would be content on level ground. Now Sun Xiu is a man of shallow and limited knowledge. Telling him about the virtue of the Perfect Man is like using a carriage to carry a mouse or using bells and drums to delight a quail. How could he not be startled!"