Zhuangzi (庄子), also known as Chuang Tzu (Wade-Giles romanization), was a pivotal figure in Chinese philosophy who lived during the Warring States period (476-221 BCE), a time of great intellectual and social ferment. He is considered the second most important figure in Taoism, after Laozi (Lao Tzu), the purported author of the Tao Te Ching.
The Man and the Book:
Zhuangzi (the person): While details about his life are scarce, he's believed to have been a minor official from the state of Meng (modern-day Henan province). He likely lived around the same time as the Confucian philosopher Mencius. He is famed for his wit, humor, and use of parables and anecdotes.
The Zhuangzi (the book): The book that bears his name is a compilation of writings attributed to him and his followers. Only the first seven chapters, the "Inner Chapters," are widely considered to be his authentic work. The rest, the "Outer Chapters" and "Miscellaneous Chapters," were likely written by later Taoist thinkers, but they still offer valuable insights into the development of Taoist thought.
The Tao: Like Laozi, Zhuangzi emphasized the Tao (Dao), the ultimate principle underlying the universe. However, Zhuangzi's Tao is even more ineffable and beyond human comprehension than Laozi's. It is the natural order, the spontaneous process of change and transformation that governs all things.
Relativism and Skepticism: Zhuangzi is known for his relativistic and skeptical perspective. He questioned the ability of human language and reason to fully grasp the Tao and the true nature of reality. He argued that our perceptions are subjective and our knowledge is limited. The famous "butterfly dream" anecdote exemplifies this:
"Once, Zhuangzi dreamt he was a butterfly, a butterfly flitting and fluttering around, happy with himself and doing as he pleased. He didn't know he was Zhuangzi. Suddenly he woke up and there he was, solid and unmistakable Zhuangzi. But he didn't know if he was Zhuangzi who had dreamt he was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming he was Zhuangzi."
This story highlights the fluidity of reality and the difficulty in distinguishing between dream and waking life, questioning the certainty of our knowledge.
Spontaneity (Ziran): Zhuangzi advocated for living in accordance with the Tao, embracing spontaneity (ziran 自然), and following one's natural inclinations. This means acting without artificiality or contrived effort, flowing with the natural course of things.
Freedom and Detachment: He valued freedom from social constraints, worldly ambitions, and emotional entanglements. He believed that true freedom comes from detaching oneself from these external pressures and cultivating inner peace. He often uses the term "free and easy wandering" to characterize the ideal life.
Transformation (Hua): Zhuangzi saw the universe as being in a constant state of flux and transformation (hua 化). He emphasized the interconnectedness of all things and the cyclical nature of change. Death, for example, is not seen as an end but as a transformation into another state of being.
The Uselessness of Usefulness: Zhuangzi often used paradoxical arguments to illustrate his points. He argued that things that appear useless or unconventional can be the most valuable. A gnarled, twisted tree, for example, might be spared the axe precisely because it is not useful for lumber, thus living a long and full life.
Skillful Living (Cook Ding): Zhuangzi uses several metaphors, like that of the butcher Cook Ding who masterfully carved oxen by following the natural structure of the animal, to talk about how one may live freely in the world without being worn down by it.
Zhuangzi's philosophy has had a profound and lasting impact on Chinese thought and culture. His ideas have influenced:
Taoism: He is considered a foundational figure in philosophical Taoism, shaping its understanding of the Tao, nature, and the ideal way of life.
Chan/Zen Buddhism: His emphasis on spontaneity, intuition, and the limitations of language greatly influenced the development of Chan (Zen) Buddhism in China and Japan.
Chinese Literature and Art: His imaginative writing style, use of parables, and profound insights have inspired countless writers, poets, and artists throughout Chinese history.
Zhuangzi's philosophy continues to resonate with people today who seek a more natural, spontaneous, and fulfilling way of life. His emphasis on questioning conventional wisdom, embracing change, and finding freedom in simplicity offers a powerful alternative to the pressures and anxieties of modern life.
"Once Zhuang Zhou dreamed he was a butterfly, a futtering butterfly. What fun he had, doing as he pleased! He did not know he was Zhou. Suddenly he woke up and found himself to be Zhou. He did not know whether Zhou had dreamed he was a butterfly or a butterfly had dreamed he was Zhou. Between Zhou and the butterfly there must be some distinction. This is what is meant by the transformation of things."
(From Patricia Ebrey, Chinese Civilization : A Sourcebook, 2d ed. (New York: Free Press, 1993), pp. 28-31)
How do I know that enjoying life is not a delusion? How do I know that in hating death we are not like people who got lost in early childhood and do not know the way home? Lady Li was the child of a border guard in Ai. When first captured by the state of Jin, she wept so much her clothes were soaked. But after she entered the palace, shared the king's bed, and dined on the finest meats, she regretted her tears. How do I know that the dead do not regret their previous longing for life? One who dreams of drinking wine may in the morning weep; one who dreams weeping may in the morning go out to hunt. During our dreams we do not now we are dreaming. We may even dream of interpreting a dream. Only on waking do we know it was a dream. Only after the great awakening will we realize that this is the great dream. And yet fools think they are awake, presuming to know that they are rulers or herdsmen. How dense! You and Confucius are both dreaming, and I who say you are a dream am also a dream. Such is my tale. It will probably be called preposterous, but after ten thousand generations there may be a great sage who will be able to explain it, a trivial interval equivalent to the passage from morning to night.
The "happiness of fish" refers to a story in the Zhuangzhi, which is a Chinese book (c. 286 BCE), and one of the foundational texts of Taoism. The story consists of a dialog between Chuang Tzu and Hui Tzu, Most of the Zhuangzi passages portray Hui Tzu (or Hui Shi) as a rival of Zhuangzi. Hui Shi acts as an intellectual opponent - he argues the alternative viewpoint, or criticizes the Taoist perspective, and his arguments are often laced with humor. The following famous story of the Zhuang-Hui dialogues concerns the subjectivity of happiness, and whether we can know anything about other subjects.
Chuang Tzu and Hui Tzu were strolling along the dam of the Hao River when Chuang Tzu said, "See how the minnows come out and dart around where they please! That's what fish really enjoy!"
Hui Tzu said, "You're not a fish - how do you know what fish enjoy?"
Chuang Tzu said, "You're not I, so how do you know I don't know what fish enjoy?"
Hui Tzu said, "I'm not you, so I certainly don't know what you know. On the other hand, you're certainly not a fish ‑ so that still proves you don't know what fish enjoy!"
Chuang Tzu said, "Let's go back to your original question, please. You asked me how I know what fish enjoy ‑ so you already knew I knew it when you asked the question. I know it by standing here beside the Hao."
In: Watson, Burton (1964): Chuang Tzu: Basic Writings. New York: Columbia University Press. Page 17.
One of the most famous stories in the text is that of Ding the Butcher, who learned what it means to wu wei through the perfection of his craft. When asked about his great skill, Ding says,
“What I care about is dao, which goes beyond skill. When I first began cutting up oxen, all I could see was the ox itself. After three years I no longer saw the whole ox. And now—now I go at it by spirit and don’t look with my eyes. Perception and understanding have come to a stop and spirit moves where it wants. I go along with the natural makeup, strike in the big hollows, guide the knife through the big openings, and follow things as they are. So I never touch the smallest ligament or tendon, much less a main joint. A good cook changes his knife once a year—because he cuts. A mediocre cook changes his knife once a month—because he hacks. I’ve had this knife of mine for nineteen years and I’ve cut up thousands of oxen with it, and yet the blade is as good as though it had just come from the grindstone. There are spaces between the joints, and the blade of the knife has really no thickness….[I] move the knife with the greatest subtlety, until—flop! The whole thing comes apart like a clod of earth crumbling to the ground.” (Ch. 3, The Secret of Caring for Life)
The recurring point of all of the stories in Zhuangzi about wu-wei is that such spontaneous and effortless conduct as displayed by these many examples has the same feel as acting in wu-wei. The point is not that wu-wei results from skill development. Wu-wei is not a cultivated skill. It is a gift of oneness with dao. The Zhuangzi’s teachings on wu-wei are closely related to the text’s consistent rejection of the use of reason and argument as means to dao (chs. 2; 12, 17, 19).
Read more:
https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/zhuangzi/
(From Chuang Tzu. The Way of Chuang Tzu. Translator/Editor Thomas Merton. New York: New Directions Publishing Corporation, 1965:)
Look at this window: it is nothing but a hole in the wall, but because of it the whole room is full of light. So when the faculties are empty, the heart is full of light. (4:1, pp. 77-78)
*********************
To name Tao is to name no-thing.
Tao is not the name of (something created).
"Cause" and "chance" have no bearing on the Tao.
Tao is a name that indicates without defining.
Tao is beyond words and beyond things.
It is not expressed either in word or in silence.
Where there is no longer word or silence
Tao is apprehended.
(25:11, p. 226)
***
All that is limited by form, semblance, sound, color is called object.
Among them all, man alone is more than an object.
Though, like objects, he has form and semblance,
He is not limited to form.
He is more.
He can attain to formlessness.
When he is beyond form and semblance, beyond "this" and "that,"
where is the comparison with another object?
Where is the conflict?
What can stand in his way?
He will rest in his eternal place which is no-place.
He will be hidden in his own unfathomable secret.
His nature sinks to its root in the One.
His vitality, his power hide in secret Tao.
(19:2, pp 155-156)
***
When he tries to extend his power over objects,
those objects gain control of him.
He who is controlled by objects loses possession of his inner self...
Prisoners in the world of object,
they have no choice but to submit to the demands of matter!
They are pressed down and crushed by external forces:
fashion, the market, events, public opinion.
Never in a whole lifetime do they recover their right mind!...
What a pity!
(23:8 and 24:4, p. 202, 211)