Thank you for visiting. This article is the second installment in a series explaining the original texts of Taoism.
Last time (Article 1), I explained Laozi and the “Tao Te Ching.” This time, I look at the free and humorous thought of the other master of the Daoist school, “Zhuangzi,” called, alongside Laozi, “Lao-Zhuang thought.”
For an overview map of Taoism’s original texts as a whole, please see this summary article.
Who Is Zhuangzi — the Master of Parable
“Zhuangzi” had the real name “Zhuang Zhou” and was a thinker active in the Warring States period around the 4th century BC. At the same time, the name of the book recording his thought is also the “Zhuangzi.”
Whereas Laozi spoke of the “Tao” in aphorisms condensed like poetry, Zhuangzi vividly depicted his thought using fantastical parables and humor. The distinctive motifs that appear in Zhuangzi’s stories — giant fish and birds, talking skulls, useless great trees — gave a great influence on later literature too.
The “Zhuangzi” consists of the 7 “Inner Chapters,” held to be by Zhuangzi’s own hand, at its center, plus the “Outer Chapters” and “Miscellaneous Chapters” added by later disciples. Zhuangzi was a figure transcending the worldly so much that an anecdote is handed down that, when invited by a ruler to be his chief minister, he refused, “I would rather be a turtle living freely in the mud,” showing no interest at all in wealth or position.
A Complete History of Philosophy and ReligionView on Amazon →
An Illustrated Introduction to the World’s 5 Great MythologiesView on Amazon →
The Equality of All Things — All Distinctions Are Relative
The core of Zhuangzi’s thought is the “equality of all things.” This is the idea that “all things in the world are originally equal, with neither superiority nor distinction.”
We usually live by distinguishing everything and ranking it — “beautiful/ugly,” “useful/useless,” “right/wrong,” “big/small.” But Zhuangzi preaches that all such distinctions are nothing but relative things humans made from a self-serving standpoint.
For example, big and small change depending on what one compares with. Beauty and ugliness change depending on who sees. Viewed from the standpoint of the root “Tao,” all is equal, with neither opposition nor discrimination. When one lets go of this distinction and attachment, one can gain freedom of the heart — that is the teaching of the equality of all things.
The Butterfly Dream — Which Is Real, Dream or Reality?
The most famous parable in Zhuangzi, symbolizing the equality of all things, is the “butterfly dream.”
Once, Zhuang Zhou (Zhuangzi) had become a butterfly in a dream. Fluttering freely about, he had quite forgotten that he was Zhuang Zhou. But when he suddenly awoke, he was unmistakably Zhuang Zhou.
Here Zhuangzi asks: “Was it Zhuang Zhou who dreamed he was a butterfly? Or is it now a butterfly dreaming it is Zhuang Zhou?”
Dream and reality, oneself and a butterfly — we naturally think we are the real human. But is that boundary as certain as we think? Living without being bound by distinctions, accepting all change. This state, transcending even the boundary of dream and reality, was the figure of freedom Zhuangzi depicted.
Free and Easy Wandering — Absolute Freedom Bound by Nothing
What adorns the opening of the “Zhuangzi” is the chapter of “free and easy wandering.” “Free and easy wandering” means the state of absolute freedom, living as if playing leisurely, bound by nothing.
Its opening begins with a parable of grand scale. In the sea at the far north, there was a giant fish called the “Kun.” Its size was several thousand leagues. In time this fish changes into a giant bird, the “Peng,” whose wings, spread, cover the sky, and soars up to ninety thousand leagues, flying toward the far southern sea (from this story was born the phrase “the Peng’s journey of ten thousand leagues”).
Seeing this, the cicadas and small birds on the ground laugh, “What is the point of flying so high? It is enough for us to hop to a nearby tree.” But Zhuangzi preaches that the small birds cannot understand the great Peng’s state. As long as one is bound by worldly common sense and small values, one cannot reach true freedom. Escaping every bondage and playing in a limitlessly great world — that is free and easy wandering.
The Use of the Useless — the Value of Being Useless
Zhuangzi overturns the very value of “useful/useless” in the world. That is the “use of the useless.”
A certain carpenter did not even glance at a giant sacred tree. “That tree is twisted and cannot become timber. It is useless,” he said. Then that night, the tree appeared in the carpenter’s dream and spoke thus: “A useful tree is cut down at once and cannot fulfill its natural lifespan. Precisely because I was ‘useless,’ I could grow this big and live this long.”
In what the world casts off as “useless,” there is, on the contrary, great value (use). A way of life that seeks only to be useful, on the contrary, wears oneself away. It is the wisdom of paradox that pierces deeply, precisely in a modern age chased by efficiency and usefulness.
The Cook Cutting the Ox — Following the Tao, Things Are Accomplished Without Force
What is it to “live according to the Tao”? What vividly shows it is the parable of the “cook cutting up the ox.”
A certain cook butchered an ox before the king. His handwork was beautiful like a dance, the blade moved as if sucked in, and there was no force at all. To the admiring king, the cook spoke thus: “I am not ‘looking at’ the ox, but only moving the blade according to the ox’s natural grain and gaps. So the blade does not strike bone or sinew, and though used for 19 years, it cuts like freshly sharpened.”
If one tries to forcibly cut through by force, the blade is soon damaged. But if one follows the spontaneous principle of things (the principle of heaven), things go perfectly without force. This is a representative parable of Zhuangzi, preaching, through the story of cooking, the secret of “living along the natural Tao.” It is also the etymology of the Japanese word for “kitchen knife (hocho).”
The Death of Chaos — a Warning Against Adding Contrivance
Another striking parable symbolizing Zhuangzi’s thought is the “death of Chaos.”
The emperor of the South Sea, “Shu,” and the emperor of the North Sea, “Hu,” were always warmly hosted by the central emperor, “Chaos.” Chaos lacked the seven holes of eyes, ears, nose, and mouth that ordinary humans have, and had a featureless figure. The two, wanting to repay the kindness, said, “We have seven holes by which we see, hear, eat, and breathe. Let us open them for Chaos too,” and bored one hole a day. But — on the seventh day, when all the holes were open, Chaos died.
This is a trenchant parable, that “human contrivance meant for the best, on the contrary, destroys nature as it is.” It fully resonates with Laozi’s “non-action and naturalness,” and well expresses the Daoist spirit of not making unnecessary moves and honoring things as they are (this Chaos also overlaps with the primal god “Hundun” of Chinese mythology). Note that the story of “three in the morning, four in the evening” (telling monkeys “three nuts in the morning, four at night” angered them, but “four in the morning, three at night” pleased them — the total being the same), preaching the foolishness of being deceived by appearances, also derives from this “Zhuangzi.”
The Dialogue on the Bridge of the Hao — Can You Know the Joy of Fish?
What well shows Zhuangzi’s wit and the freedom of his way of seeing is the “dialogue on the bridge of the Hao” with the logician “Huizi,” who was both close friend and intellectual rival.
One day, the two were strolling on a bridge over a river (the Hao). Watching the swimming fish, Zhuangzi said, “The fish swim leisurely and are enjoying themselves.” Huizi snapped back, “You are not a fish. How do you know the joy of fish?” Then Zhuangzi retorted, “You are not me. How do you know that ‘I do not know the joy of fish’?”
Against Huizi, who attacks with reason, Zhuangzi closes thus at the last: “At the moment you asked me ‘how do you know,’ you were asking while acknowledging that ‘I do know the joy of fish.’” This dialogue, lightly dodging the exchange of reasoning, is a scene characteristic of Zhuangzi, honoring the state of becoming one with the object and feeling it, beyond the frame of reason and words. The relationship of Zhuangzi and Huizi, debating sharply while acknowledging each other, was later told as an ideal of the “true friend (one who truly understands oneself).”
Both Life and Death Are Natural Change
Zhuangzi’s view of life and death is also distinctive. There is a famous anecdote that, when his wife died, Zhuangzi was singing songs while beating a basin (a washtub).
When a friend who came to offer condolences was astonished and rebuked him, Zhuangzi answered thus: “When my wife died, even I grieved at first. But thinking it over well, life is originally something that arises from nothing, takes form, and in time returns again to nothing — like the shifting of the four seasons. My wife now sleeps peacefully in the great room of heaven and earth. To wail over it would be proof of not understanding the principle of heaven.”
Both life and death are nothing but a single scene of the natural change that the “Tao” weaves. So there is no need to fear death excessively or lament. The thought of the equality of all things connects to this generous view of life and death, seeing even life and death equally.
The Dialogue with the Skull — Does the Dead Wish to Be Revived?
What depicts Zhuangzi’s view of life and death even more vividly is the “dialogue with the skull” (the “Utmost Joy” chapter).
On a journey, Zhuangzi found a skull lying by the road and slept using it as a pillow. Then the skull appeared in his dream and told the Zhuangzi who spoke of the hardships of life: “In the world of death there is neither lord nor servant, nor the toil of the four seasons. There is only limitless peace, taking heaven and earth as the length of time.” When Zhuangzi asked, “Then shall I revive you and return your body and family?,” the skull frowned and flatly refused, “Why would I cast off this king-like peace and return again to human toil?”
Taking living as a self-evident good and death as a one-sided evil — Zhuangzi lightly shakes even that conviction. There is no other parable that this boldly depicts the freedom that spreads beyond letting go of distinction and valuation.
To Learn More
Here are some related books. Reading them alongside this series lets you savor this world even more deeply.
World Mythology for Beginners (illustrated)View on Amazon →
The Origins of Religion: Why We Needed a ‘God’View on Amazon →
Conclusion
In this article, I explained in detail the thought of Zhuangzi, the other master of the Daoist school. How was it?
Zhuangzi told, in rich parables, with the “equality of all things,” transcending every distinction and opposition, at its core, the butterfly dream, the great Peng’s free and easy wandering, the use of the useless, and a view of life and death that sees them as natural change. Zhuangzi can be said to have expanded the “Tao” Laozi preached into a freer, more poetic state.
In the next Article 3, I will explain the world of the “immortality thought,” aiming at living forever, unique to Taoism, which developed from this Lao-Zhuang philosophy.
I hope you’ll read the next article too.
📚 Series: The Original Texts of Taoism (3/5)
