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Stories  of  Chuang  Tzu  
 
Chuang  Tzu  (Zhuangzi)  is  thought  to  have  been  a  Chinese  philosopher  who  lived  in  
the  4th  Century  BC  and  whose  teachings  are  considered  amongst  the  most  important  
in  the  Taoist  tradition.  Many  stories  have  been  attributed  to  him  or  told  about  him.  
Here  are  some  of  them.    
 
1.  Chuang  Tzu  and  mourning  
 
Chuang  Tzu’s  wife  had  died.  Hui  Tzu  came  to  the  house  for  the  rites  of  mourning  and  
found  Chuang  Tzu  drumming  on  an  upturned  bowl  and  singing,  apparently  happy.  
 
‘Have  you  no  respect  for  your  poor  dead  wife,’  Hui  Tzu  protested.  ‘  She  
brought  up  your  children  and  grew  old  with  you.  Now  she  is  gone  and  you  show  no  
grief  at  all!’  
 
Chuang  Tzu  smiled  and  then  looked  more  serious  for  a  moment.  ‘You  are  
wrong,’  he  said  simply.  ‘I  loved  my  wife  dearly  and,  when  she  died,  I  felt  a  deep  
despair.  But  then  I  pondered  and  I  considered  that  man’s  being  has  its  seasons,  just  
like  the  spring  and  the  summer  and  the  autumn  and  the  winter.  If  a  person  is  tired  
and  has  gone  to  lie  down,  we  don’t  chase  after  them  screaming  and  shouting  for  
them  to  wake  up  again,  not  if  we  have  any  respect  for  them.  The  lady  that  I  have  lost  
has  lain  down  to  sleep  in  the  Great  Inner  Room.  Breaking  in  on  the  peace  she  has  
found  with  lamentations  and  sighs  and  sobs  would  be  ignorance  of  nature’s  laws  and  
ways.  And  so  I  have  ceased  to  mourn.’  
 
2.  Chuang  Tzu  and  the  skeleton  
 
Chuang  Tzu  once  dreamed  a  skeleton  and  he  even  spoke  to  it.  ‘Had  I  the  power  to  
give  you  back  your  flesh  and  to  clothe  you  and  give  you  back  your  father  and  your  
mother,  your  wife  and  your  child  and  your  friends  and  your  home,  I  am  sure  you  
would  not  refuse.  For  surely  life  is  better  than  death.’  
If  a  skeleton  can  frown,  this  one  certainly  did.  If  a  skeleton  can  laugh,  this  one  
did  that  too.  ‘Why  ever  would  you  think  that  I  would  throw  away  such  joy  as  my  
spirit  has  found,’  it  chuckled.  ‘A  joy  that  is  greater  than  the  pleasure  any  king  had  
upon  the  finest  of  jade  thrones,  deeper  than  the  peace  any  priest  found  in  the  most  
sacred  temple.  Why  would  I  call  that  spirit  to  go  back  to  the  toils  and  troubles  of  
your  world?’  
 
3.  Chuang  Tzu  and  the  butterfly  
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Chuang  Tzu  once  dreamed  he  was  a  butterfly,  flitting  through  summer  meadows,  
drinking  the  nectar  of  the  flowers.  When  he  woke  up  he  said  that  he  could  not  
decide  which  was  the  truth  of  his  state  of  existence:  whether  he  was  Chuang  Tzu  
who  had  dreamed  he  was  a  butterfly  or  a  butterfly  dreaming  he  was  Chuang  Tzu.  
 

4.    Man  and  shadow    


 
 
The  sight  of  his  own  shadow  completely  terrified  the  man.  The  sound  of  his  own  
footsteps  made  him  tremble  and  quake.  It  was  all  just  too  much  to  bear  and  he  
decided  to  escape  it  all  –  by  running  and  running  and  running  in  a  wild  panic.  But  no  
matter  how  fast  he  ran,  shadow  and  footsteps  kept  pace  with  him,  forcing  him  to  
run  even  faster  until  he  collapsed  and  died  of  sheer  exhaustion.  
 
What  would  have  happened  if  that  terrified  man  had  simply  sat  himself  down  
in  the  shade  of  a  tree  somewhere  and  taken  time  to  calm  himself?  Would  he  then  
have  even  heard  his  own  footsteps  or  seen  his  own  shadow?  
 

5.  The  Turtle  
 
Chuang  Tzu  became  famous  for  his  wisdom  but  fame  can  bring  difficulties  and  he  
knew  this.  When  the  emperor  needed  a  new  counsellor  to  join  his  court,  Chuang  Tzu  
was  scarcely  surprised  when  the  soldiers  arrived  and  ordered  him  to  come  with  
them  to  the  palace.  
 
The  old  man  smiled  at  them  from  the  shade  of  the  ancient  tree  under  which  
he  was  lounging.  ‘Have  you  heard  of  what  happened  to  the  turtle?’  he  asked  them  
innocently.  
 
The  soldiers  said  that  they  had  not  and  Chuang  Tzu  continued,  ‘Well,  you  see  
he  was  a  big  big  turtle  in  a  muddy  mud  pool  and  that  was  just  fine  as  far  as  he  was  
concerned.  But  he  was  captured  and  taken  off  to  be  sacrificed  and  served  up  in  the  
royal  soup.  Having  tht  happen  to  him  was  a  great  honour  no  doubt,  but  I  wonder  
whether  you  think  that,  if  he’d  been  asked,  he  might  have  preferred  his  own  muddy  
mud  pool  to  his  courtly  duties.’  
 
‘Of  course,’  the  captain  of  the  soldiers  agreed.  
 
‘Well  this  is  my  answer  to  the  emperor:  please  leave  me  in  my  mud  pool.’  
 
6.  The  Butcher  and  the  knife  
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It  wasn’t  just  the  cutting,  it  was  the  way  the  butcher  did  it  that  fascinated  his  
customer.  The  meat  and  the  bone  simply  parted  company  without  the  slightest  
argument.  ‘That’s  incredible,’  sighed  the  customer,  ‘you  must  have  to  keep  that  knife  
very  sharp  to  do  that.  What’s  your  method?  

‘I  don’t  have  a  method,’  said  the  butcher  because  I  don’t  need  to  sharpen  this  
knife.  It’s  the  same  one  I’ve  used  year  after  year.’  

‘How  can  that  be?  Every  knife  needs  sharpening.’  

‘Not  this  one,  maybe  not  any  knife  if  you  know  the  way  of  right  use,  though  I  
can  only  speak  for  this  one.  ’  

The  customer  was  perplexed.  He’d  used  knives  and  chisels  and  all  sorts  more  
himself;  they  were  always  blunted  after  a  while  and  had  to  be  sharpened  on  a  stone.  
That’s  just  what  happened  with  cutting  tools.  ‘Can  you  explain  please?’  he  asked,  
overcome  with  curiosity.  

The  blacksmith  smiled  as  he  went  on  with  his  task.  ‘Not  exactly.  All  I  can  say  
is  that  I  allow  the  knife  to  discover  its  own  path  through  the  meat.  I  don’t  try,  I  don’t  
make  an  effort,  even  when  there’s  tough  muscle  and  cartilage.  I  just  let  it  cut.  This  is  
how  I  do  my  work.  This  is  how  I  live  my  life.  Somehow  the  blade  stays  always  sharp.  ’  

7.  The  Prime  Minister  and  the  Phoenix  


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 Hui  Tzu  suspected  Chuang  Tzu.  The  more  he  thought  about  the  philosopher,  what  
he  did  and  what  he  said,  the  more  he  suspected.  The  more  he  suspected,  the  more  
he  thought  about  Chuang  Tzu,  what  he  said  and  what  he  did.  At  last  he  felt  certain  
that  Chuang  Tzu  was  trying  to  undermine  him  and  steal  away  his  post.  It  had  taken  
hard  work  and  a  lot  of  scheming  to  become  prime  minister  of  Liang.  He  wasn’t  about  
to  give  up  all  that  he  had  gained  so  easily.  

Hui  Tzu  decided  that  he  needed  to  act  and  gave  his  orders.  The  soldiers  went  
out  searching  of  Chuang  Tzu  night  and  day  –  three  nights  and  three  days.  There  was  
no  sign  of  him  anywhere.  No  one  could  or  would  say  where  he  was;  he  must  have  
gone  into  hiding,  fearful  of  what  his  enemy  would  do  to  him.  So  the  prime  minister  
was  surprised  when  the  philosopher  walked  coolly  into  the  court  as  if  from  nowhere,  
looking  untroubled  and  calm.  

‘Respected  minister,  let  me  tell  you  a  story,’  Chuang  Tzu  said,  bowing  gently  
to  this  powerful  politician.  ‘The  tale  of  the  Phoenix  and  the  Owl.  Do  you  know  it?’  

Hui  Tzu  said  that  he  did  not  and  the  sage  went  on,  ‘As  you  may  know,  the  
great  phoenix  rises  out  of  the  ocean  of  the  south  flies  in  glory  to  the  ocean  of  the  
north.  It  touches  no  land  in  all  that  time,  perching  only  on  sacred  trees  and  feeding  
itself  only  on  the  rarest  of  fruit  growing  on  those  hallowed  branches.  It  goes  about  
its  purposes  in  this  way,  scarcely  noticing  what  happens  on  the  ground  below.  

‘Now  there  was  once  an  owl.    With  patience,  skill  and  undoubted  
determination,  it  had  caught  a  fat  rat  and  killed  it.  This  it  had  been  feeding  on  when  
it  looked  up  to  see  the  phoenix  passing  overhead.  ‘Get  away,  foul  thief,’  the  owl  
screeched  angrily  and  suspiciously  at  the  fiery  bird,  guarding  the  dead  rat  jealously.  
‘How  dare  you  come  trying  to  steal  away  the  fruits  of  my  efforts?’  

Chuang  Tzu  paused  and  then  smiled  disarmingly  at  Hui  Tzu.  ‘My  dear  sir,’  he  
said  simply,  ‘why  ever  do  you  think  you  need  to  screech  so  at  me.  You  are  very  
welcome  to  your  prize.’  

8.  Chuang  Tzu’s  tale  of  the  rivers  and  oceans  

With  the  autumn  rains  swelling  all  the  streams  that  fed  it,  the  Yellow  River  soon  
burst  its  banks  and  flooded  all  the  land  around.  The  River  God  laughed  in  delight.  All  
the  beauty  of  the  world  seemed  to  have  fallen  into  his  power.  He  was  able  simply  to  
obliterate  it  in  this  way  if  he  chose.  You  couldn’t  see  an  ox  of  a  horse  for  miles,  just  
the  waters  of  the  river.  

Onwards  those  waters  tumbled  until  they  came  at  last  to  the  ocean.  Only  
then  was  the  River  God  awakened  from  his  dream  of  omnipotence  as  he  saw  the  
much  greater  vastness  of  the  waters  he  had  reached  stretching  away  to  far  horizons.  
‘Alas,  he  cried  out  humbly  to  the  Ocean  God,  ‘I  should  have  listened  to  the  wisdom  
of  the  sayings.  Haven’t  I  heard  it  said  often  enough  that,  just  because  you  have  a  
hundred  ideas,  you  don’t  know  so  very  much.  Now  at  last  I  understand  what  true  
power  is.’  

‘Are  you  sure  of  this?’  the  Sea  God  smiled.  ‘  Have  you  heard  that  talk  of  the  
sea  means  nothing  to  a  frog  in  a  well?  Do  you  know  that  a  dragonfly  has  not  much  
notion  of  ice?    Have  you  noticed  that,  learned  though  the  great  doctors  of  
philosophy  might  be,    they  understand  little  or  nothing  of  the  Way  of  Life?’  

N.B.  These  stories  have  been  rather  freely  re-­‐told  for  this  presentation  from  memory  and  also  using  a  
variety  of  contrasting  sources.  I  have  no  claim  on  the  essence  of  any  of  the  tales  -­‐  they  have  been  
around  for  centuries  in  one  form  or  another  so  far  as  I  know.  Please  feel  free  to  use  them  practically  
for  re-­‐telling  and  in  all  sorts  of  other  informal  ways.  The  wordings  here  are  copyright  for  publishing  
purposes,  so  I’ll  only  ask  that,  if  you  want  to  use  any  of  the  stories  for  your  own  professional  purposes,  
you  should  please  re-­‐tell  the  tale  in  your  own  way  just  as  I  have  done.  

©Rob  Parkinson  2014  

 
 

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