[update 16th May - a reader has commented that this tale was written by Master Chuang (Zhuanzi), the early Taoist, not Lao Tzu.]
The Tao of not Judging
An old and very poor man lived in a village. But even the emperor envied him his white horse. He was offered large sums of money to sell it, but he always responded:
“This horse is not really a horse. He is like a man to me. And who on the earth could sell a man, a friend? Tell me!” Though he was so very poor he didn’t sell the horse.
One morning the horse disappeared from the stable. All the men from the village gathered saying to the man: “You poor old fool! We knew that the horse will be stolen. It would be better to sell it. What a misfortune!”
But the old man responded: “Why such a hurry? Why couldn’t you just say: ”There’s no horse in the stable?” That is the fact; but if it is a misfortune or blessing – I do not know – because it is just a small piece. Who knows what is going to happen next?”
And people laughed at the man. They knew that he was somehow weird. But – in two weeks, one evening, all at once the horse returned. So, it wasn’t stolen. It just escaped into the wilderness. And that was not all. It was accompanied with twelve new wild horses…
Chuang Tzu dreaming of a butterfly (or a butterfly dreaming of Chuang Tzu)
People gathered again, saying: “You were right, old man. It was not a misfortune but a blessing!”
And the old man responded: ”You are judging again! Just say: the horse is back… who knows is it a blessing or not? That is just a small part, you are reading only a word from the whole sentence – how can you judge the whole book?” People didn’t respond anything, but deep inside, they were sure that the old man was wrong. But there were twelve more horses given to him – out of nothing!
The old man had an only son who started to train all those wild horses. In one week he fell of the horse and both his legs were broken.
The people gathered again judging: ”You were right again! It was a misfortune. The only son you have can not use his legs any more. And he was the only hope of your old age. Now you are more poor then ever.”
Lao Tzu portrait
Old man responded: ”You seemed to be obsessed by judging. Do not walk too far.
Say just that my son had broken his legs. None can tell if that was a misfortune or a blessing. Life takes place in small pieces and we can never know.”
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Shortly war came to their land. All the young men had to join the army. All but the old man’s only son. He was handicapped. All the village was in mourning, because it was obvious that the war couldn’t be won. They knew that many young men would never come home again.
He who is contented is rich
They visited old man again saying: ”You were right old man – it came out that it was a blessing for you. Your son is handicapped, but he is still with you. Our sons left for ever.”
And the old man responded again:
“You just can not stop judging! Say just, that your sons were sent to the army, and that my son wasn’t taken. Who can tell if that is a blessing or a misfortune?”
[Story submitted by a student in Slovenia. AQ Ed.]
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The student in Slovenia identified the wrong author for this tale. It was written by Zhuanzi (Chuang Tzu), not Lao Tzu.
Thanks for the update – in fact it was the editors who assumed it was written by Lao Tzu and added his portrait.
I see that some of the tales of Chuang Tzu or Zhuanzi are published in “Wandering on the Way” by Victor Mair (Hawai’i Press). Wikipedia gives him as living from 370 to 301 BCE.
Thought this story sounded familiar. Actually, it’s Zhuangzi, with a ‘g’, in Pinyin romanization.
Another story from Zhuangzi (Three in the Morning) is available in a recent Theosophy Watch post http://theosophywatch.com/2010/05/12/marx-brothers-buddhism/
Laozi’s and Zhuangzi’s writings seem to form the yin and the yang of Daoism (Taoism), with Laozi basically giving the basic impersonal law and teaching about the Dao, and Zhuangzi bringing a personal and often humorous touch through heartfelt stories of the human predicament and transcending it.
Catholic contemplative Thomas Merton did a really fine translation of selections from Zhuang Zi–actually considered one of the best even by scholars.
Burton Watson also did a really nice translation.
Zhuangzi is often considered a favorite over Laozi among Chinese students. He’s truly a delight!
Thank you for highlighting one of his stories.