Our lives are finite, yet knowledge is infinite. To pursue the infinite with the finite is perilous; to continue doing so knowingly is sheer exhaustion. In doing good, do not seek fame; in doing evil, avoid punishment. By following the natural middle path as your guiding principle, you can preserve your body, maintain your life, care for your loved ones, and live out your natural lifespan.
Cook Ding was butchering an ox for Lord Wenhui. Wherever his hand touched, his shoulder leaned, his foot stepped, or his knee braced, the sounds of flesh parting and the knife slicing were perfectly rhythmic. His movements matched the grace of theSanglin dance and the harmony of theJingshou melody.
Lord Wenhui exclaimed, “Ah, excellent! How can skill reach such heights?”
Cook Ding put down his knife and replied, “What I care for is the Dao (the Way), which goes far beyond mere skill. When I first began butchering oxen, all I saw was the whole ox. After three years, I no longer saw the whole ox. Now, I meet it with my spirit rather than looking at it with my eyes. My senses cease to function, and my spirit acts freely. I follow the natural structure, striking into the large gaps and guiding the blade through the big cavities, adapting to what is inherently there. I never touch the tendons or ligaments, let alone the large bones. A good cook changes his knife once a year because he cuts; an ordinary cook changes his knife once a month because he hacks. My knife has been used for nineteen years and has butchered thousands of oxen, yet its edge is as if freshly sharpened. The joints have spaces, and the blade has no thickness; inserting a blade without thickness into spaces leaves plenty of room for it to move freely. That is why my knife remains as sharp as new after nineteen years. Nevertheless, whenever I come upon a complicated joint, I see the difficulty, become cautious, and alert. My vision focuses, my movements slow down, and I move the knife with the utmost subtlety. With a soft sound, the ox falls apart like earth crumbling to the ground. I stand holding the knife, look around with satisfaction, and then wipe and store it carefully.”
Lord Wenhui said, “Excellent! From the words of Cook Ding, I have learned how to nourish life.”
Gongwen Xuan saw the Right Master and was startled, asking, “Who is this man? Why has he lost a leg? Is it Heaven’s doing or man’s?” The Right Master replied, “It is Heaven, not man. Heaven made me one-legged. The physical forms of men are bestowed by Heaven. From this, I know it is Heaven’s doing, not man’s.”
The pheasant in the marsh takes ten steps for one peck and a hundred steps for one drink, yet it does not wish to be kept in a cage. Though its spirit may appear vigorous in captivity, it is not truly well.
When Lao Dan died, Qin Shi came to mourn. He cried out three times and then left. A disciple asked, “Were you not a friend of the Master?” Qin Shi said, “Yes.” The disciple asked, “Then is it appropriate to mourn like this?” Qin Shi replied, “Yes. At first, I thought he was a true man, but now I see he was not. When I entered to mourn, I saw old people weeping for him as if for a son, and young people weeping for him as if for a mother. In gathering like this, there must have been those who spoke when they did not wish to, and wept when they did not wish to. This is to escape Heaven and violate true feelings, forgetting what we have received. The ancients called this the penalty of escaping Heaven. The Master came because it was his time; he left because it was his destiny. To be at peace with the times and follow the natural course, so that sorrow and joy cannot enter the heart – the ancients called this the liberation from the suspension of Heaven.”
The firewood burns out, but the fire passes on, and no one knows when it will end.
Note
This Zhuangzi‑Yangshengzhu excerpt features Chef Ding’s ox‑butchering parable. It advocates following nature’s middle path, accepting fate and death, to preserve one’s body and live out one’s natural lifespan.
Cook Ding (Chef Ding, 庖丁, Páo Dīng):
A legendary chef in ancient China. Paoding is a Chinese term meaning a cook. Pao means cook, while Ding refers to a commoner, an ordinary common person. He is not just a historical figure but a philosophical symbol representing someone who has mastered a skill to the point of spiritual enlightenment, achieving a state of “flow” where action and the Dao (the natural order) are one.
Lord Wenhui (文惠君):
Generally identified as King Hui of Liang (or Wei) during the Warring States period. He represents the ruler who, despite his high status, is capable of learning profound life lessons from a humble artisan.
Some scholars hold the view that the Lord Wenhui mentioned here refers to Lord Zhaowen (昭文君), the second ruler of the Eastern Zhou State and successor of Duke Hui of Eastern Zhou (东周惠公). He reigned from 359 BC to 308 BC. Records state that Lord Zhaowen once aided Zhang Yi, funding his lobbying mission to the State of Qin, where Zhang Yi later won the favour of King Huiwen of Qin.
The Dao (Tao):
The central concept in Chinese philosophy, particularly Daoism. It refers to the fundamental, unnameable principle that is the source, pattern, and substance of everything that exists. In this context, it means acting in perfect harmony with the natural laws of the universe.
Sanglin (桑林) and Jingshou (经首):
These refer to ancient, legendary music and dance pieces from the time of the Yellow Emperor and the Tang Dynasty (mythological eras). Mentioning them highlights that Cook Ding’s movements were not just efficient, but possessed a divine, artistic beauty.
Lao Dan (Laozi, Laotzu):
The personal name of Laozi, the founder of Daoism and author of the Tao Te Ching. His death in the story serves as a vehicle to discuss the Daoist attitude toward mortality.
Qin Shi (秦佚):
A friend of Laozi. His unconventional mourning (crying only three times) illustrates the Daoist belief in accepting the timing of life and death as natural transitions rather than tragedies.
The Right Master (右师):
An official title in ancient China. In the story, he has lost a leg (likely due to punishment or accident), representing the acceptance of one’s physical fate (“Heaven’s doing”) without resentment.
Emperor’s Suspension:
A metaphor for the ultimate spiritual liberation. “Suspension” refers to the human condition of being bound by emotions, desires, and the fear of death. “Liberation” is achieved when one realizes that life and death are natural processes, freeing the spirit from these earthly tethers.
养生主第三
吾生也有涯，而知也无涯。以有涯随无涯，殆已！已而为知者，殆而已矣！为善无近名，为恶无近刑，缘督以为经，可以保身，可以全生，可以养亲，可以尽年。
庖丁为文惠君解牛，手之所触，肩之所倚，足之所履，膝之所踦，砉然响然，奏刀騞然，莫不中音。合于《桑林》之舞，乃中《经首》之会。
文惠君曰：“嘻，善哉！技盍至此乎？”庖丁释刀对曰：“臣之所好者道也，进乎技矣。始臣之解牛之时，所见无非全牛者；三年之后，未尝见全牛也；方今之时，臣以神遇而不以目视，官知止而神欲行。依乎天理，批大郤，导大窾，因其固然。技经肯綮之未尝，而况大軱乎！良庖岁更刀，割也；族庖月更刀，折也；今臣之刀十九年矣，所解数千牛矣，而刀刃若新发于硎。彼节者有间而刀刃者无厚，以无厚入有间，恢恢乎其于游刃必有余地矣。是以十九年而刀刃若新发于硎。虽然，每至于族，吾见其难为，怵然为戒，视为止，行为迟，动刀甚微，謋然已解，如土委地。提刀而立，为之四顾，为之踌躇满志，善刀而藏之。”文惠君曰：“善哉！吾闻庖丁之言，得养生焉。”
公文轩见右师而惊曰：“是何人也？恶乎介也？天与？其人与？”曰：“天也，非人也。天之生是使独也，人之貌有与也。以是知其天也，非人也。”
泽雉十步一啄，百步一饮，不蕲畜乎樊中。神虽王，不善也。
老聃死，秦佚吊之，三号而出。弟子曰：“非夫子之友邪？”曰：“然。”“然则吊焉若此可乎？”曰：“然。始也吾以为其人也，而今非也。向吾入而吊焉，有老者哭之，如哭其子；少者哭之，如哭其母。彼其所以会之，必有不蕲言而言，不蕲哭而哭者。是遁天倍情，忘其所受，古者谓之遁天之刑。适来，夫子时也；适去，夫子顺也。安时而处顺，哀乐不能入也，古者谓是帝之悬解。”
指穷于为薪，火传也，不知其尽也。
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