The Philosophy of Xiaoyao 逍遙
Finding life wisdom from Chuang Tzu’s conversations, #1
The world we live in is not real. The things we cling to, the emotional attachments lingering in the heart and mind, and the joys and sorrows filled within memories are like a dream, making us wonder, at some point in life, at the essence of our existence.
As the Diamond Sutra says,
Thus shall ye think of all this fleeting world:
A star at dawn, a bubble in a stream;
A flash of lightning in a summer cloud,
A flickering lamp, a phantom, and a dream.
A. F. Price and Wong Mou-Lam, trans. The Diamond Sutra and The Sutra of Hui-Neng.(Boston: Shambhala, 2012), 53.
One essential lesson from this Mahayana Buddhist classic is to learn not to fall into the grip of the appearance of things, for they are destined to disappear in the phenomenal world. We may realize that, after all, what we’ve been attached to can turn out to be something fleeting, like the moon in still water.
But reaching that spiritual state is extremely challenging, as we are everywhere entangled with this mundane world.
We want material comfort, labels and recognition, achievements, and most importantly, a sense of satisfaction and assurance from the state of being in possession of them.
The question is: how long does it take to realize that attaining all this does not really lead to inner joy and calm?
As a result, we reach the state where we have forgotten how to be ourselves, even with all the things we are so attached to.
On an existential level, we are struggling because we have become accustomed to overreach and overstepping. We are not content with what is within our capacities and endowment.
So, we are inclined to overextend ourselves to imitate others, follow the trend, or convince ourselves that we are chasing some grand dreams that can make us fulfilled.
What is beneath this constant struggle is our submission to the control of internal desires. We cannot live with simplicity and contentment because we are constantly at war with the inner self. There is always that voice within that reminds us of the state of psychological insufficiency, even though we may already have more than enough.
Therefore, we are trapped, always entangled with external things, and catching ourselves in an endless loop.
Chuang Tzu understood this predicament, which is common to all of us. His interaction with his close friend, Hui Tzu, is particularly interesting and enlightening.
Different perspectives, diverged life paths
Hui Tzu asked Chuang Tzu, “I have a large tree, its trunk is so irregular and bumpy that a carpenter cannot apply his measuring line to it, its branches so twisted that the square and compasses cannot be used on them. You could stand it by the road, and no carpenter would look at it twice.
Chuang Tzu replied, “Probably you’ve never seen a wildcat or a weasel. It couches down and hides, watching for something to come along. It leaps and races east and west, not hesitating to go high or low—until it falls into the trap and dies in the net. Then again there’s the yak, large as a cloud covering the sky. It certainly knows how to be big, though it doesn’t know how to catch rats.
Now you have this big tree, and you’re distressed because it’s useless. Why don’t you plant it in the domain of nonexistence, in a wide and barren wilderness? By its side, you can wander in a wu-wei spirit, or you may lie down to find xiaoyao (ease and leisure) from sleep. Axes will never shorten its life, nothing can ever harm it. If there’s no use for it, how can it come to grief or pain?1
The value of spiritual life
Chuang Tzu mentioned an interesting and important notion, “the domain of nonexistence.”無何有之鄉2 On the surface, it refers to something intangible, unobtainable, and remote. Yet, it certainly has its own place there.
So, we see that the idea can be interpreted as the cultivation of one’s spiritual life. The assumption of Chuang Tzu’s thinking is that the flesh and sensual world are temporary, destined to pass. We are simply a fleeting existence in this world. After all, the human life is nothing but the accumulation of qi (氣),
Life is the companion of death; death is the beginning of life. Who understands their workings? Man’s life is a coming-together of breath. If it comes together, there is life; if it scatters, there is death. And if life and death are companions to each other, then what is there for us to be anxious about?3
What is more important is, perhaps, the spiritual dimension of existence. It’s like a garden; you give it proper care, and it provides you with consolation at the right moment. Plus, it is something entirely within our control — to provide it with nourishment and proper arrangements.
Chasing external and material things can never bring lasting fulfillment. When given the opportunity, desires, allures, and unrealistic adventures can trap us endlessly.
In contrast, the cultivation of the spiritual world would help you go through the storms in this earthly, unpredictable, and uncertain world. I’ve realized that in life’s gloomiest moments, it’s always the wise words, a spiritual lesson, a proper musical piece, a clip of beautiful memory — all the things that constitute the essence of our spiritual life — that encourage me to endure and move forward.
What is truly useful?
Who can find ease in their positions in life? The yak, the wildcat and weasel, or you and me as individuals?
We know that everything has its own use and value in its specific context. However, we may not be able to see this from the first impression when judging things or even reflecting upon the meaning of our own existence.
From a holistic perspective, everything can be useful in a particular way but worthless in another. The Taoists understand that things spontaneously operate and constantly change in the universe. We can never truly know when the useless in one occasion can become functional in another.
Therefore, understanding what is within our power and limits is self-knowledge. And self-knowledge allows us to flow with changes without obsessions and delusions.
Xiaoyao 逍遙 — a way of life
From their conversations, we can identify two life philosophies between Hui Tzu and Chuang Tzu.
Hui Tzu is primarily concerned with utility and usefulness when approaching things. His heart-mind is always oriented toward the practical side of human affairs. Following this thinking, he is invariably entangled with the outside.4
Chuang Tzu, on the other hand, takes a detached view of the value of being useful. Contrary to the conventional perspective, he sees value in uselessness.
More importantly, instead of demonstrating one’s use, Chuang Tzu suggests being at ease with the state of uselessness as a way of preserving one’s inborn nature. In doing so, one follows the natural course, not harming the inner core to conform to society.
Indeed, such a view has its downsides, such as losing opportunities and wasting talent in not making things happen. Yet, who can know that fortune may not turn out to be misfortune?
This is Chuang Tzu’s life philosophy, the way of xiaoyao 逍遙. It recognizes that the essence of being lies in living in accordance with one’s nature, practicing one’s natural talent, and being at ease in a spontaneous mode of existence.
It indicates that it’s worthless to deviate from one’s natural course to imitate others or subject oneself to social influences and external judgment.
Essentially, xiaoyao is a life attitude. It suggests that despite the turmoil, storms, and vicissitudes of fortune in this mundane world, you can still preserve your innocence, authenticity, and natural way of living, even if that is contrary to popular norms and conventional practices.
It will certainly bring about a sense of unease in the face of temporary gains, losses, and setbacks. But choosing how to respond is the only thing within your reach in this game of life filled with uncertainty, unpredictability, and mysteries. What is detached, carefree, and disentangled is not to be subdued.
The Song Dynasty (960-1279 AD) poet Su Dongpo (1037 - 1101 AD) understood and practiced the philosophy of xiaoyao when he wrote this famous poem,
Tune: Calming the Waves
Listen not to the rain beating against the trees.
Why don’t you slowly walk and chant at ease?
Better than saddled horse I like sandals and cane.
Oh, I would fain
Spend a straw-cloaked life in mist and rain.
Drunken, I’m sobered by vernal wind shrill
And rather chill.
In front I see the slanting sun atop the hill;
Turning my head, I find the dreary beaten track.
Let me go back!
Impervious to wind, rain or shine, I’ll have my will.5
Xiaoyao is, practiced in the right circumstances, a secret spiritual weapon that allows us to see through our attachments and predicaments, control ourselves in the midst of life’s twists and turns, and rise above the entanglements of the past and present. With a smile, when the tests of life are most arduous and menacing, we can still say to them, “I’ve passed through you all.”
Fung Yu-lan, “The Happy Excursion,” in Chuang Tzu: A New Selected Translation with an Exposition of the Philosophy of Kuo Hsiang. (Beijing: Foreign Language Teaching and Research Publishing, 2016),15. Translation modified.
There is the implication that what is empty is capable of receiving and experiencing.
Burton Watson translated “the domain of nonexistence” as “Not-Even-Anything Village.” See Burton Watson's “Free and easy wandering,” in The Complete Works of Zhuangzi (New York: Columbia University Press, 2012), 6, A. C. Graham translated it as “the realm of Nothing whatever” in Chuang Tzu: The Inner Chapters (London: Unwin Paperbacks, 1989), 47.
Burton Watson, “Knowledge Wandered North,” 177.
We will see, in another post later, that Hui Tzu became a prime minister.
Xu Yuanchong, trans. Poems of Sushi (Beijing: Haitun Press, 2015), 61.
What a beautiful article! We truly appreciate this insight into Xiaoyao. Thank you for sharing it with us!
Nicely put. I’ve recently begun getting very interested in Taoism and other eastern philosophies. They hold so many beautiful truths and wisdoms, like this one. Thanks for sharing!