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.

A man is galloping at breakneck speed on his horse and appears as if he is going somewhere important; on a mission of some sort.

Another man standing along the side of the road shouts, ‘Where are you going?’ and the man on the horse yells, ‘I don’t know, ask the horse!’

A short story about rushing

 We have developed the habit of running and rushing through our lives and our days, harried by time. We multitask, we rush around vainly trying to ‘accomplish’ everything that we think we need to do, and in doing so, we lose touch with the present moment and with life itself. If we are not present in our own lives, we aren’t really alive. We are like zombies running around lost in our own little universes. We have developed what Thich Nhat Hanh describes as ‘habit energy’: the habit of running around with our bodies going one way and our minds somewhere else. This is a terrible way to live and robs us of our most precious gift—the little time that we do have to experience the joy of being alive.

A man was walking along a beach in a well-known tourist destination, and there were literally thousands and thousands of stranded starfish that had been swept in on the tide and soon to die. He noticed a man in the distance who was throwing them back into the water, one at a time. As he approached the man he exclaimed, “But there are so many. You can’t possibly make a difference!” The man simply threw another starfish back into the ocean and said, “Made a difference to that one.”

A short story about making a difference

Sometimes when we are working to improve the lives of others or even working to improve ourselves, we may not immediately see the results of our actions and good intentions. But, we must let go of the outcome of our actions and trust that sometime in the future our good deeds will have a positive effect and come to fruition in a manner that we cannot foresee.