Cutting Up An Ox

In the writing of Zhuangzi, we find many of the same ideas as were expressed by Laozi in the Daode Jing. What makes Zhuangzi unique, and particularly delightful, is his use of parables, anecdotes, and stories filled with playful, paradoxical and koan-like dialogues. The following poem (translated here by Thomas Merton) offers a glimpse of Zhuangzi's work, and is one of my personal favorites.

Cutting Up An Ox

Prince Wen Hui's cook
Was cutting up an ox.
Out went a hand,
Down went a shoulder,
He planted a foot,
He pressed with a knee
The ox fell apart
With a whisper,
The bright cleaver murmured
Like a gentle wind.
Rhythm! Timing!
Like a sacred dance,
Like "The Mulberry Grove"
Like ancient harmonies!

"Good work!" the Prince exclaimed,
"Your method is faultless!"
"Method?" said the cook
Laying aside his cleaver,
"What I follow is Tao
Beyond all methods!

"When I first began
To cut up oxen
I would see before me
The whole ox
All in one mass.
"After three years
I no longer saw this mass.
I saw the distinctions.

"But now, I see nothing
With the eye. My whole being
Apprehends.
My senses are idle. The spirit
Free to work without plan
Follows its own instinct
Guided by natural line,
By the secret opening,
The hidden space,
My cleaver finds its own way.
I cut through no joint, chop no bone ... (read the entire poem)