Is there such a thing as perfect happiness in the world? Is there a way to keep oneself alive? What should one do? What should one rely on? What should one avoid? Where should one dwell? What should one pursue? What should one abandon? What should one delight in? What should one detest?
Now, what the world honors is wealth, high rank, long life, and a good reputation. What it delights in is bodily comfort, rich food, fine clothes, beautiful sights, and pleasant sounds. What it looks down upon is poverty, lowliness, early death, and a bad reputation. What it finds bitter is if the body cannot find ease and comfort, the mouth cannot taste rich food, the body cannot wear fine clothes, the eyes cannot see beautiful sights, and the ears cannot hear pleasant sounds. If people cannot obtain these things, they become greatly worried and fearful. Is it not foolish to treat the body in such a way!
The wealthy wear out their bodies and toil hard, accumulating much wealth but unable to use it all. Is this not treating the body as something external? The high-ranking worry day and night about whether their conduct is good or bad. Is this not treating the body with great neglect? People are born together with sorrow. Those who live long lives become muddled and confused, lingering in long worry without dying. How bitter this is! This is far from preserving the body.
Martyrs are seen as good by the world, yet this goodness is not enough to keep them alive. I do not know whether this goodness is truly good, or truly not good. If we consider it good, it is not enough to keep one alive; if we consider it not good, it is enough to save others. Thus it is said: “If loyal remonstrance is not heeded, step back and do not contend.” Thus, when Wu Zixu contended, his body was mutilated; had he not contended, his name would not have been established. Is there truly such a thing as goodness, or not?
Now, regarding what the vulgar people of the world do and what they delight in – I do not know whether their delight is truly delightful, or truly not delightful. When I look at what the vulgar delight in, I see crowds rushing toward it, striving as if they could not stop, and all claiming it is delightful. I do not consider it delightful, nor do I consider it undelightful. Is there truly delight, or not? I consider non-action (wuwei) to be true delight, though the vulgar consider it a great bitterness. Thus it is said: “Perfect happiness is no [conventional] happiness; perfect honor is no [conventional] honor.”
The rights and wrongs of the world truly cannot be fixed. Nevertheless, non-action can settle what is right and wrong. Perfect happiness keeps one alive; only through non-action can one nearly attain this. Let me try to explain: Heaven attains clarity through non-action; Earth attains tranquility through non-action. Thus, when these two non-actions unite, all things are transformed and born. Vague and indistinct, yet from this they emerge! Indistinct and vague, yet without form! All things, in their profusion, are all propagated from non-action. Thus it is said: “Heaven and Earth do nothing, yet there is nothing they do not do.” But who among men can attain this non-action!
Zhuangzi’s wife died. Huizi went to offer his condolences, but found Zhuangzi squatting with his legs spread apart, drumming on a basin and singing.
Huizi said, “You lived with her, she raised your children and grew old with you. That you do not weep is already too much; to drum on a basin and sing – is this not going too far?”
Zhuangzi replied, “Not so. When she first died, how could I alone be without grief? But I looked back to her beginning, and originally she had no life. Not only did she have no life, but originally she had no form. Not only did she have no form, but originally she had no vital breath qi). Amidst the vague and indistinct mingling, there was a change, and there was vital breath. The vital breath changed, and there was form. The form changed, and there was life. Now there is another change, and she has died. This is like the progression of the four seasons – spring, autumn, winter, and summer. She is now lying peacefully in the great chamber (the universe), while I follow her, wailing and weeping. I considered that I did not understand Fate, so I stopped.”
Uncle Branchless (Zhi Li Shu) and Uncle Slippery (Hua Jie Shu) were viewing the Hill of Mingbo and the Ruins of Kunlun, the place where the Yellow Emperor rested. Suddenly, a willow sprouted from Uncle Slippery’s left elbow. He looked startled and loathed it.
Uncle Branchless asked, “Do you loathe it?”
Uncle Slippery replied, “No, why should I loathe it? Life is a borrowing. What is borrowed to produce life is but dust and dirt. Life and death are like day and night. Moreover, you and I were watching the transformations, and now the transformation has reached me. Why should I loathe it!”
Zhuangzi traveled to Chu and saw an empty skull, bleached and retaining its shape. He tapped it with his horsewhip and asked, “Did you, sir, through greed for life and violation of principle, come to this? Or did you encounter the fall of a state and the execution by axe, coming to this? Or did you have bad conduct, bringing shame to your parents, wife, and children, and thus come to this? Or did you suffer from cold and hunger, and thus come to this? Or did your years naturally reach this end?”
When he finished speaking, he took the skull and used it as a pillow to sleep.
At midnight, the skull appeared to him in a dream and said, “Your talk resembles that of a debater. Everything you mentioned is a burden of the living; in death, there is none of this. Would you like to hear about the joy of death?”
Zhuangzi said, “Yes.”
The skull said, “In death, there is no ruler above, no subject below, and no affairs of the four seasons. Freely and at ease, we count the springs and autumns of Heaven and Earth. Even the joy of a king facing south on his throne cannot surpass this.”
Zhuangzi did not believe him and said, “If I asked the Master of Fate to restore your body, give you back your bones, flesh, and skin, and return you to your parents, wife, children, and village friends, would you desire this?”
The skull frowned deeply and said, “How could I abandon the joy of a south-facing king to return to the toils of the human world!”
Yan Yuan traveled east to Qi. Confucius wore a look of worry. Zigong left his mat and asked, “This humble disciple dares to ask: Hui (Yan Yuan) has gone east to Qi, and you, Master, wear a look of worry. Why is this?”
Confucius said, “Well asked. In the past, Guan Zhong said something I greatly admired: ‘A small bag cannot hold a large object; a short rope cannot draw water from a deep well.’ If this is so, it means that Fate has its determined allotment, and the body has its proper measure, which cannot be increased or decreased. I fear that Hui will speak to the Marquis of Qi about the ways of Yao, Shun, and the Yellow Emperor, and further add the words of Sui Ren and Shen Nong. The Marquis will then seek within himself and fail to understand. Failing to understand, he will become confused. When a man is confused, he may die.
Have you not heard? Once, a seabird landed in the suburbs of Lu. The Marquis of Lu welcomed it and offered it wine in the temple. He played the Jiu Shao music for its entertainment and prepared the Tai Lao sacrifice (ox, sheep, and pig) for its meal. The bird became dizzy and sorrowful, daring not to eat a single slice of meat or drink a single cup of wine. In three days, it died. This was trying to nourish a bird with what nourishes oneself, not with what nourishes a bird.
One who nourishes a bird with what nourishes a bird should let it perch in the deep forests, roam on the sandbars and islets, float on the rivers and lakes, eat loaches and minnows, stop in rows with its own kind, and dwell at ease. Birds simply hate hearing human speech; why bother them with all that noise?
If the Xian Chi and Jiu Shao music were played in the wilds of Lake Dongting, birds would fly away upon hearing it, beasts would run away, and fish would dive deep. But when people suddenly hear it, they gather around to watch. Fish live in water and thrive; men live in water and die. Their natures are necessarily different, and thus their likes and dislikes are different. Therefore, the ancient sages did not demand uniform abilities or identical tasks. Names should stop at reality; righteousness should be established based on what is suitable. This is called orderliness and the preservation of good fortune.”
Liezi was traveling and ate by the roadside. He saw a hundred-year-old skull. Pulling aside the weeds, he pointed to it and said, “Only you and I know that there has never been death, and there has never been life. Are you truly sad? Am I truly happy?”
There is a subtle mechanism in all things. When it gets water, it becomes the continuous thread of life. At the border of water and soil, it becomes the moss on a frog. Born on high mounds, it becomes the plantain. If the plantain gets rich soil, it becomes the crow’s foot. The root of the crow’s foot becomes grubs, and its leaves become butterflies. The butterfly soon transforms into an insect, born under the stove, looking like a sloughed skin, named the Qu Dui. The Qu Dui, after a thousand days, becomes a bird named the Qian Yu Gu. The spittle of the Qian Yu Gu becomes the Si Mi, and the Si Mi becomes the vinegar fly. The Yi Lu is born from the vinegar fly, the Huang Kuang from the Jiu You, and the Mao Rui from rotting beetles. The Yang Xi mates with the Bu Sun, the old bamboo grows the Qing Ning, the Qing Ning grows the Cheng, the Cheng grows the horse, and the horse grows man. Man then returns again to the subtle mechanism. All things come out of the subtle mechanism, and all things return into the subtle mechanism.
Note
This Zhuangzi ‑ Zhile (Perfect Happiness) chapter argues true happiness lies in wu‑wei. Featuring famous tales like Zhuangzi singing over his wife’s death and the seabird parable, it teaches accepting natural life‑death transformation.
The Daoist sage and author. In this chapter, he challenges conventional human emotions regarding death, demonstrating his philosophy of transcending worldly attachments.
Huizi (Hui Shi):
Zhuangzi’s close friend and intellectual rival, representing a logical, conventional worldview. His shock at Zhuangzi’s behavior highlights the contrast between social norms and Daoist enlightenment.
Wu Zixu:
A famous minister from the Spring and Autumn period known for his loyal remonstrance to the King of Wu. Zhuangzi uses Wu Zixu’s tragic death (being forced to commit suicide and his body mutilated) to question whether conventional “goodness” or loyalty is truly worth sacrificing one’s life for.
Yan Yuan (Yan Hui):
Yan Hui is Confucius’ most virtuous disciple. In the text, his journey to the State of Qi worries Confucius, serving as a setup to discuss the dangers of imposing high moral standards on those unprepared for them.
Confucius (Kong Qiu):
The founder of Confucianism. Here, he is used as a mouthpiece for Daoist ideas, warning against forcing profound wisdom upon limited minds.
Guan Zhong (Guanzi):
Guan Zhong is a renowned statesman from the Spring and Autumn period. Confucius quotes him (“A small bag cannot hold a large object…”) to illustrate that everyone has inherent limits to their capacity.
The Marquis of Lu:
A ruler who tried to treat a seabird like a human guest, offering it fine wine and music, which inadvertently killed the bird. This illustrates the folly of imposing one’s own preferences on others.
Liezi (Lie Yukou):
Liezi is a prominent Daoist philosopher. His encounter with a skull represents the Daoist understanding that life and death are merely different states of the same cosmic energy.
The Yellow Emperor
The Yellow Emperor is a mythical sage-king. The “Ruins of Kunlun” where he rested symbolize a sacred, primordial space for observing the transformations of nature.
Si Ming (The Master of Fate):
A deity in charge of human destiny and lifespan. Zhuangzi mentions asking this deity to restore the skull to life.
Wuwei (Non-Action):
A core Daoist concept meaning effortless action or aligning with the natural flow of the universe. Zhuangzi argues that “Perfect Happiness” is found in Wuwei, which secular people often find painful or boring.
Qi (Vital Breath/Energy):
The fundamental substance of the universe in Chinese philosophy. Zhuangzi explains that life is the gathering of Qi and death is its dispersal, much like the changing of seasons.
Tai Lao (The Great Sacrifice):
The highest grade of ancient Chinese sacrificial offerings, consisting of an ox, a sheep, and a pig. In the text, it represents the excessive and inappropriate luxury offered to the seabird.
Jiushao and Xianchi (九韶, 咸池):
Legendary, highly sophisticated musical compositions attributed to the sage-kings Shun and the Yellow Emperor, respectively. They symbolize the peak of human culture, which is meaningless or even terrifying to animals.
Ji (The Subtle Mechanism):
In the final paragraph, this refers to the microscopic, imperceptible source of all life. Zhuangzi describes a grand cycle where all living things emerge from this subtle mechanism and eventually return to it.
Drumming on a Basin and Singing:
Originating from Zhuangzi’s reaction to his wife’s death. It signifies a transcendent acceptance of death as a natural transformation, rather than an occasion for conventional grief.
Nourishing a Bird with What Nourishes Oneself:
From the story of the Marquis of Lu and the seabird. It is a metaphor for subjective decision-making or treating others based on one’s own preferences rather than their actual needs, often leading to disastrous results.
A Small Bag Cannot Hold a Large Object:
From Guan Zhong’s quote. It means that people with limited capacity or understanding cannot grasp profound truths or undertake massive responsibilities.
The Joy of the Skull:
The dialogue where a skull tells Zhuangzi that death is happier than life because it is free from social hierarchies (rulers/subjects) and the struggles of survival. It challenges the universal human fear of death.
Life and Death are like Day and Night:
A metaphor used by Uncle Slippery (滑介叔, Hua Jie Shu) when a tumor grows on his elbow. It illustrates the Daoist view that physical changes, illness, and death are as natural and inevitable as the cycle of day and night.
外篇·至乐第十八
天下有至乐无有哉？有可以活身者无有哉？今奚为奚据？奚避奚处？奚就奚去？奚乐奚恶？夫天下之所尊者，富贵寿善也；所乐者，身安厚味美服好色音声也；所下者，贫贱夭恶也；所苦者，身不得安逸，口不得厚味，形不得美服，目不得好色，耳不得音声。若不得者，则大忧以惧，其为形也亦愚哉！夫富者，苦身疾作，多积财而不得尽用，其为形也亦外矣！夫贵者，夜以继日，思虑善否，其为形也亦疏矣！人之生也，与忧俱生。寿者惛惛，久忧不死，何之苦也！其为形也亦远矣！烈士为天下见善矣，未足以活身。吾未知善之诚善邪？诚不善邪？若以为善矣，不足活身；以为不善矣，足以活人。故曰：“忠谏不听，蹲循勿争。”故夫子胥争之，以残其形；不争，名亦不成。诚有善无有哉？今俗之所为与其所乐，吾又未知乐之果乐邪？果不乐邪？吾观夫俗之所乐，举群趣者，誙誙然如将不得已，而皆曰乐者，吾未之乐也，亦未之不乐也。果有乐无有哉？吾以无为诚乐矣，又俗之所大苦也。故曰：“至乐无乐，至誉无誉。”天下是非果未可定也。虽然，无为可以定是非。至乐活身，唯无为几存。请尝试言之：天无为以之清，地无为以之宁。故两无为相合，万物皆化生。芒乎芴乎，而无从出乎！芴乎芒乎，而无有象乎！万物职职，皆从无为殖。故曰：“天地无为也而无不为也。”人也孰能得无为哉！
庄子妻死，惠子吊之，庄子则方箕踞鼓盆而歌。惠子曰：“与人居，长子、老、身死，不哭亦足矣，又鼓盆而歌，不亦甚乎！”庄子曰：“不然。是其始死也，我独何能无概！然察其始而本无生；非徒无生也，而本无形；非徒无形也，而本无气。杂乎芒芴之间，变而有气，气变而有形，形变而有生。今又变而之死。是相与为春秋冬夏四时行也。人且偃然寝于巨室，而我噭噭然随而哭之，自以为不通乎命，故止也。”
支离叔与滑介叔观于冥伯之丘，昆仑之虚，黄帝之所休。俄而柳生其左肘，其意蹶蹶然恶之。支离叔曰：“子恶之乎？”滑介叔曰：“ 亡，予何恶！生者，假借也。假之而生生者，尘垢也。死生为昼夜。且吾与子观化而化及我，我又何恶焉！”
庄子之楚，见空髑髅，髐然有形。撽以马捶，因而问之，曰：“夫子贪生失理而为此乎？将子有亡国之事、斧钺之诛而为此乎？将子有不善之行，愧遗父母妻子之丑而为此乎？将子有冻馁之患而为此乎？将子之春秋故及此乎？”于是语卒，援髑髅，枕而卧。夜半，髑髅见梦曰：“子之谈者似辩士，诸子所言，皆生人之累也，死则无此矣。子欲闻死之说乎？”庄子曰：“然。”髑髅曰：“死，无君于上，无臣于下，亦无四时之事，从然以天地为春秋，虽南面王乐，不能过也。”庄子不信，曰：“吾使司命复生子形，为子骨肉肌 肤，反子父母、妻子、闾里、知识，子欲之乎？”髑髅深颦蹙额曰：“吾安能弃南面王乐而复为人间之劳乎！”
颜渊东之齐，孔子有忧色。子贡下席而问曰：“小子敢问：回东之齐，夫子有忧色，何邪？”孔子曰：“善哉汝问。昔者管子有言，丘甚善之，曰‘褚小者不可以怀大，绠短者不可以汲深。’夫若是者，以为命有所成而形有所适也，夫不可损益。吾恐回与齐侯言尧、舜、黄帝之道，而重以燧人、神农之言。彼将内求于己而不得，不得则惑，人惑则死。且女独不闻邪？昔者海鸟止于鲁郊，鲁侯御而觞之于庙，奏九韶以为乐，具太牢以为膳。鸟乃眩视忧悲，不敢食一脔，不敢饮一杯，三日而死。此以己养养鸟也，非以鸟养养鸟也。夫以鸟养养鸟者，宜栖之深林，游之坛陆，浮之江湖，食之鳅鲦，随行列而止，委蛇而处。彼唯人言之恶闻，奚以夫譊譊为乎！咸池九韶之乐，张之洞庭之野，鸟闻之而飞，兽闻之而走，鱼闻之而下入，人卒闻之，相与还而观之。鱼处水而生，人处水而死。彼必相与异，其好恶故异也。故先圣不一其能，不同其事。名止于实，义设于适，是之谓条达而福持。”
列子行，食于道，从见百岁髑髅，攓蓬而指之曰：“唯予与汝知而未尝死、未尝生也。若果养乎？予果欢乎？”种有几，得水则为继，得水土之际则为鼃蠙之衣，生于陵屯则为陵舃，陵舃得郁栖则为乌足，乌足之根为蛴螬，其叶为胡蝶。胡蝶胥也化而为虫，生于灶下，其状若脱，其名为鸲掇。鸲掇千日为鸟，其名为乾馀骨。乾馀骨之沫为斯弥，斯弥为食醯。颐辂生乎食醯，黄軦生乎九猷，瞀芮生乎腐蠸，羊奚比乎不箰，久竹生青宁，青宁生程，程生马，马生人，人又反入于机。万物皆出于机，皆入于机。”
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