From the words of the cook i have learnt how to take care of my life!

[Guest guest]

Prince Hui's cook was cutting up an oxen. Every blow of his hand,

every heave of his shoulders, every step of his foot, every thrust of

his knee, every whshh of the oxen's torn flesh, every chhk of the

chopper, was in perfect harmony— in rhythm like the dance of the

Mulberry Grove, simultaneous like the chords of the Ching Shou.

 

"Well done!" cried the Prince.

"How did you ever achieve such skill?"

 

"Sire," replied the cook, "I have always devoted myself to the Tao.

It is better than skill. When I first began cutting up oxens, I saw

before me simply whole oxens. After three years of practice, I saw no

more whole animals. And now I work with my mind and not with my eye.

When my senses bid me stop, but my mind urges me on, I fall back upon

eternal principles. I follow such openings or cavities as there may

be, according to the animal's natural physique. I do not attempt to

cut through the veins, arteries, and tendons, still less through

large bones."

 

"A good cook changes his chopper once a year— because he cuts. An

ordinary cook, once a month— because he hacks. But I have had this

chopper nineteen years, and although I have cut up many thousands

oxens, its edge is as if fresh from the grindstone. For at the joints

there are always crevices, and the edge of a chopper being without

thickness, it remains only to insert that which is without thickness

into such a crevice. By these means the crevice will be enlarged, and

the blade will find plenty of room. It is thus that I have kept my

chopper for nineteen years as though fresh from the grindstone."

 

"Nevertheless, when I come upon a hard part where the blade meets

with a difficult section, I proceed with caution. I fix my gaze and

go slowly, gently applying my blade, until with a Hwah! the part

yields like earth crumbling to the ground. Then I take out my

chopper, and stand up, and look around, and pause, until with an air

of triumph I wipe my chopper and put it carefully away."

 

"Bravo!" cried the Prince.

"From the words of this cook I have learnt how to take care of my

life."

 

 

— Chuang Tzu (369-286 BC)

The Chuang Tzu, Ch. 3: "Nourishment of the Soul"

 

 

 

 

|