Chapter 6.1

Four friends facing death together

Four men—Mr Blue, Mr Hue, Mr See, and Mr Sigh—are talking among themselves when one of them says:
Which of you can think of nothingness as the head, life as the spine, and death as the rump?
Which of you knows that death and life, existence and demise, are one body?
He and I are friends.

The four men look at each other and laugh.
They are of one mind. Each man is in the happy company of friends.

~

It comes to pass that Mr Hue falls ill.
Mr Blue calls in on him and says:
Amazing! The Maker of Things is using you to make this contorted thing.

A large hump protrudes from his back,
his vital organs stacked inverted above it.
His cheeks are down in the hem of his gown,
his shoulders above his crown.
A row of knobby vertebrae point to the sky.
The yin-yang energies are all awry,
but his mind is calm and untroubled.

He hobbles over and looks at his reflection in the well, and says:
Indeed! How the Maker of Things is using me to make this contorted thing.

Mr Blue says:
Do you hate it?

Mr Hue says:
Perish the thought! What’s there for me to hate?

Let’s suppose that bit by bit he’s changing my left arm, using it to make a rooster.
Going by this I’ll keep watch on the night.

Let’s suppose that bit by bit he’s changing my right arm, using it to make a slingshot pellet.
Going by this I’ll seek owls for the roast.

Let’s suppose that bit by bit he’s changing my buttocks, using them to make chariot wheels, and that he’ll use my daemon to make a horse.
Going by this I’ll take advantage of the situation. Will I ever again have to change a harness?

To get is being in season.
To lose is going with the current.
When at ease with the season and residing on the current, sorrow and joy cannot enter.
This is what the ancients mean by, the noose is unravelled.
If you don’t manage to unravel it yourself, things will pull it all the tighter.

Besides, that things don’t get the better of heaven is nothing new.
What’s there for me to hate about it?

~

It comes to pass that Mr Sigh falls ill.
He’s gasping on the verge of death, his wife and children surrounding him, weeping, when Mr See calls in.

Mr See says:
Enough! Shoo! There’s no distressing change here.

Leaning against the doorway he converses with Mr Sigh, saying:
Amazing! The Maker and Changer—
What will he use you to make?
What will he use you to accomplish?
Will he use you to make a rat’s liver?
Will he use you to make an insect’s legs?

Mr Sigh says:
In the relationship between father-and-mother and son, the father and mother need only give the order—east, west, south, north—and the son follows.
The relation­ship between yin-and-yang* and man is no less than that between father-and-mother and son.
If they announced my upcoming death and I didn’t listen, that would mean I’m obstinate. How would that be any fault of theirs?

Imagine if a great blacksmith was casting metal and the metal leapt about, saying, I demand to be Mo Yeh!*
The great blacksmith would surely consider it to be inauspicious metal.
Having happened on the form of a human, if I were now to say, Only a human! Only a human!—
The Maker and Changer would surely consider me to be an inauspicious human.
The moment I think of heaven and earth as a great foundry, and the Maker and Changer as a great blacksmith, where can I go and not approve?

Completely content, I fall asleep.
Pleasantly surprised, I awake.

*  *  *  *  *

Which of you can think of nothingness as the head, life as the spine, and death as the rump?

Death is not a future event that lies ahead of you. Death lies forever behind you. (It’s the rump.) As you pass from one moment to the next, past you is dead.

The future? (The head?) Look around. The future is nowhere present. It doesn’t exist. It’s a nothingness.

Between the two is life (the spine). Forever here-and-now present.

The Maker of Things is using me to make this contorted thing.

The Maker of Things is nature. The that which makes all things.

When at ease with the season and residing on the current, sorrow and joy cannot enter. This is what the ancients mean by, the noose is unravelled. If you don’t manage to unravel it yourself, things will pull it all the tighter.

Echoing Chapter 3.5:

Happening to come, Master was in season.
Happening to depart, Master went with the current.
When at ease with the season and residing on the current, sorrow and joy cannot enter.
The ancients called this, the Supreme God’s noose has been unravelled.

The Supreme God is nature. His noose is the noose he places around our necks at birth, condemn­ing us to death. If you don’t manage to unravel this noose yourself, things will pull it all the tighter: the more you bemoan death, the tighter its grip around your neck. But when you’re at ease with the season and residing on the current, the noose is loosened and unravelled.

That things don’t get the better of heaven is nothing new.

Heaven means nature. (Heaven is the sky. By extension, it’s the sky god, the god who reigns over and orders the world. By further extension, it’s nature.)

Pleasantly surprised, I awake.

This calls to mind Chuang Tzu’s butterfly dream (Chapter 2.9). After dreaming of being a butterfly, suddenly he awoke and was a startled, surprised Chou.

Just as Chuang Tzu identified with neither the butterfly nor Chou, but with the that which was present with each (awareness; life energy), Mr Sigh does not identify with his present body, but with the that which is forever here-and-now present (awareness; life energy).

Now, and now, and again now, he (awareness; life energy) blinks and, pleasantly surprised, beholds a world spread out before him.

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