One day, Yen Hui, the favorite disciple of Confucius, told his master that he wanted to go to Wei. He said, “The Prince of Wei is lusty and self-willed. He takes no care of his people and refuses to see any fault in himself. He pays no attention to the fact that people are dying right and left. The people are desperate.”
“You have told me, Master, that one should leave the state that is well governed and go to that which is in disorder. I want to use what I have learned from you in order to bring about some improvement in conditions of Wei.”
“Alas!” said Confucius, “you will fail. You will waste your energy, become confused and then anxious. Once anxious, you will no longer be able to help yourself. The sages of old first sought Tao in themselves, then looked to see if there was anything in others that corresponded with Tao as they knew it. But if you do not have Tao yourself, how can you bring corrupt politicians into the right path?”
Yen Hui replied: “I intend to present myself as a humble, disinterested man, seeking only to do what is right and nothing else. Will this not win the Prince’s confidence?”
“Certainly not,” Confucius replied. “This man is convinced that he alone is right. He may pretend outwardly to believe in justice, but do not be deceived by it. He is not accustomed to being opposed by anyone. His way is to reassure himself that he is right by trampling on other people. If he does this with mediocre men, he will all the more certainly do it to one who presents a threat by claiming to be a man of high qualities. He will only stick to his ways and opinions.”
Yen Hui then came up with a different plan: “Instead of directly opposing him, I will appear to yield. I will appeal to the authority of tradition and to the examples of the past. I will eventually be recognized as perfectly disinterested and sincere. I can then influence the Prince.”
Confucius said, “You have too many different plans of action, when you have not even got to know the Prince and observed his character! At best, you might get away with it and save your skin, but you will not change anything whatever. He might perhaps superficially conform to your words, but there will be no real change of heart.”
Yen Hui then asked: “Will you, Master, tell me what I should do?”
“You must first do a fasting of the heart!” said Confucius. “The goal of such fasting is inner unity. This means hearing, but not with the ear; hearing, but not with the understanding; hearing with the spirit, with your whole being. The hearing that is only in the ears is one thing. The hearing of the understanding is another. But the hearing of the spirit is not limited to any one faculty, to the ear, or to the mind. Hence it demands the emptiness of all the faculties.”
“And when the faculties are empty, then the whole being listens. There is then a direct grasp of what is right there before you that can never be heard with the ear or understood with the mind. Fasting of the heart empties the faculties, frees you from limitation and from preoccupation. Fasting of the heart begets unity and freedom.”
“I understand,” said Yen Hui. “What was standing in my way was my own self-awareness. If I can begin this fasting of the heart, self-awareness will vanish. Then I will be free from limitation and preoccupation!”
“Yes,” said Confucius, “If you do this, you will be able to go among men in their world without upsetting them. You will not enter into conflict with their ideal image of themselves. If they will listen, sing them a song. If not, keep silent. Don’t try to break down their door. Just be there among them, because there is nothing else for you to be but one of them. Then you may have success!”
“It is easy to stand still and leave no trace, but it is hard to walk without touching the ground. If you follow human methods, you can get away with deception. In the way of Tao, no deception is possible.”
“You know that one can fly with wings: you have not yet learned about flying without wings. You are familiar with the wisdom of those who know, but you have not yet learned the wisdom of those who know not.”
“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. Being full of light it becomes an influence by which others are secretly transformed.”
Background: This is yet another Taoist tale from the writings of the Chinese philosopher Chuang Tzu, who lived about 2400 years ago. Read also two other stories here and here.
I have shortened and adapted a story from the book by Thomas Merton: The Way of Chuang Tzu.