![The Cook: A Story About Flow](https://i0.wp.com/mindfulstoic.net/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/A-mosaic-style-digital-image-of-a-chef-preparing-a-dish-to-represent-a-short-story-about-flow.jpg?resize=1080%2C608&ssl=1)
The Cook: A Story About Flow
A cook was butchering an ox for his employer. Every slide of his wrist, every circle of his elbow, every push of his shoulders, every pivot on his toes and heels, and every gliding movement of the knife were in perfect harmony—like the sections of a royal orchestra.
‘This is truly wonderful!’ said the cook’s employer. ‘How did you learn to butcher an ox with such skill?’
The cook laid down his knife and said, ‘I’ve learned to do and be at the same time—to act presently without wandering thoughts of past or future. This is better than any butcher’s manual.
When I first started to cut up oxen, what I saw was the entire ox. After three years, I had learned not to see the ox as a whole.
Now I work with my heart, not with my eyes or hands. I ignore my senses and follow my spirit. This way, the knife follows the natural lines and glides through the empty spaces, using what is there and what is not there to my advantage.
This way, I avoid the bones and cartilage.
A good cook changes their knife every year. A regular cook changes their knife every month.
I have been using this knife of mine for nineteen years.
It has cut thousands of oxen. But, the blade is as sharp as the day it was made.
Most of the animal is empty space, and the blade of the knife has no real thickness. There is no resistance when you pass something as thin as a knife’s blade through empty space.
Sure, there are difficult parts. But, when I encounter a difficult part, and I know it will be difficult, I take care and take my time. Then, very gently, I move the knife until an empty space opens up and the resistance dissipates on its own, like the clearing of fog under the morning sun. Then, with a feeling of satisfaction, I wipe my blade and put it away.’
After a long pause, the cook’s employer said, ‘I must thank you, my dear cook, for your lesson in butchering has taught me how all things must be done.’
A Taoist story about flow
This story comes from The Book of Chuang Tzu by Martin Palmer (Translator) and Elizabeth Breuilly (Translator).
This is a story about flow. Sometimes, when we try too hard, or when we overthink, we get in our own way. Flow is about losing oneself in the act. It’s about being fully immersed in an experience. When we are truly present, and when we work from the heart, we find the path of least resistance.