Once upon a time
in ancient China, there was a farmer who lived next door to a hunter.
The farmer's primary means of livelihood was raising sheep. He had a
small flock that he tended with much care.
One night, the
hunter's dogs discovered a hole in the fence. They broke through and
attacked the sheep, causing much damage. The farmer was dismayed and
notified his neighbor the next morning. The hunter was apologetic: "I am
sorry. I will have my sons keep the dogs in the house from now on. That
ought to fix the problem."
The hunter was
mistaken. The dogs got out somehow and more chaos ensued. The farmer
appeared at the hunter's door the next morning, tired from lack of sleep
and angry: "Is this how you fix your problems?"
Again the hunter
was apologetic: "My boys tell me the dogs got out by climbing through an
open window. I'll have them lock up all the windows at night from now
on."
This still did not
stop the trouble. These hunting dogs were highly intelligent, and once
every few days, they would figure out a new way to break out of the
house. Each time the farmer would confront the hunter, and the hunter
would make promises, but there were just too many ways for the dogs to
get out, so the hunter was not able to cover all the possibilities. This
situation continued for weeks.
One morning, the
farmer regarded his loss from the previous night, and decided he had
enough. Like most Chinese people, he preferred to resolve disputes
privately, but in this case he felt he had no choice but to go before
the judge.
Judges held
tremendous power in ancient China. They could not only interpret the
law, but also conduct investigation, render verdict, decide punishment,
and enforce sentence. In the right hands, these powers made them
extremely effective as agents of justice; in the wrong hands, such
powers could be highly corrupting.
At the courthouse,
the judge probed the farmer with questions and considered the matter.
After a while, he said: "We can solve this problem in two ways.
Certainly I can punish your neighbor and order him to compensate you.
However, this will no doubt turn him against you. Do you wish to live
next door to an enemy?"
"Of course not,
your honor," said the farmer. "But I don't see any other way out of this
problem."
"There is always
another way," said the judge. "I can point it out to you. However, if
you wish to hear of this alternative, you must first give me your word
to do exactly what I tell you."
Something about
the judge's quiet confidence compelled the farmer to nod his head in
agreement. "Very well," the judge said. "Here are the steps I want you
to follow..."
The judge's
instructions were brief. They were also shocking to the farmer. He
stuttered: "But... your honor! This is preposterous! Have I not already
lost enough?"
The judge's face
was stern: "Do you wish to go back on your word and risk my wrath?"
"Of course not! Of
course not!" The farmer was frightened. "I will carry out your
instructions immediately, your honor."
The farmer went
home feeling depressed. He selected two of the youngest and most
adorable lambs from his flock. Then, still following the judge's
instructions to the letter, he went to the hunter's house and knocked on
the door.
The hunter
answered with much annoyance: "What is it now?"
The farmer cleared
his throat and recalled what the judge told him to say: "For the past
few weeks I have bothered you many times, and you have worked hard to
contain your dogs as a favor to me. I would like to give you something
for your trouble. Here are two of my best lambs for your two sons."
The two boys
overheard this and could hardly believe their ears. They crowded the
doorway and looked at their father with pleading eyes. The hunter shooed
them away, thanked the farmer, and accepted the gift. As the farmer
walked back to his house, he could hear the excited voices of the
youngsters as they eagerly took their new pets.
Early next
morning, the farmer got up to check the sheep. He expected more
problems, but found none. Everything was peaceful and quiet. He looked
toward the hunter's house, and an amazing sight greeted his eyes: the
hunter had built a large cage outside his house. The dogs were sleeping
in it, locked up and leashed securely.
After
several more uneventful days, the hunter came by the farmer's house,
bringing with him fresh kills. He had selected his best to give to the
farmer as a reciprocal present. The farmer was touched, and realized
that the hunter was actually quite a decent fellow. "The judge was
right," he thought to himself. "There is always another way - a much,
much better way!"
Every now and then, we
can run into possible conflicts with other people, even if we prefer
peace. We are minding our own business, not looking for trouble, but
trouble comes looking for us. The ever-changing, chaotic nature of life
means problems will arise from time to time.
At first, we may decide to talk it over with the
other party, to see if we can resolve the issue diplomatically. If that
doesn't work, then many of us will decide to escalate it to the next
level, which may include violence - or perhaps litigation, as was the
case with the farmer.
From the perspective of the Tao, this is a bad
idea. Chapter 30 of the Tao Te Ching says it this way:
The place where the
troops camp
Thistles and thorns grow
Following the great army
There must be an inauspicious year
At first glance, these lines appear to describe
large-scale battles, perhaps during the Warring States period in ancient
China. In actuality, these lines describe the essence of conflict at any
level, whether between nations or between individuals.
When we wage personal battles against other people,
the place where the metaphorical troops camp is the heart that harbors
hatred. The thistles and thorns represent the feelings of bitterness and
aggression. Their growth represents the festering of such feelings
within.
The crucial point of these four lines is the
inauspicious year of the aftermath. The land is left in ruins in the
wake of the great army. We can see this pattern clearly throughout
history - a nation that wages war invariably suffers economic depletion
long after the end of military operations.
The same truth applies just as powerfully to our
petty conflicts with other people. After our army has launched its
attack - after we have lashed out at someone - we continue to suffer,
because the festering feelings that remain behind will keep causing us
pain.
This was something that the judge saw clearly and
pointed out to the farmer. Even if the farmer were to win a verdict
against the hunter, the resulting animosity would guarantee the loss of
neighborly good will. In the long run, this would be a greater loss than
any possible courtroom victory. Lao Tzu might say that the thistles and
thorns would remain behind, regardless of how the army performed in
battle.
The farmer was lucky that the judge happened to
understand the Tao. We may not be quite as lucky, because we may not
know someone with that level of wisdom who can help us resolve issues in
an elegant way. What we need to do is to learn what we can from this
story, so we can turn to the sage within ourselves in times of
necessity.
We start out with the recognition that our typical
response pattern is to fight fire with fire. The moment we feel like we
are being attacked or will be attacked soon, our defenses go up and we
get ready to counterattack. We may even launch a preemptive strike, just
to be on the safe side.
This strategy may work well in the animal kingdom,
but in the context of human civilization, fighting fire with fire tends
to result in a massive explosion that hurts everyone, including
ourselves. This is why we need the teaching of the Tao, to help us let
go of the instinctive urge to fight, and focus instead on the better
way.
Every conflict is unique, so the judge's
particular solution for the farmer may not work for our own conflicts
with others. However, the Tao process that the judge followed will apply
in every case and help us discover our own solutions. This process can
be broken down into the three steps:
1. Maintain an Open Mind
We start out by being open to the
possibility that a creative solution exists. Oftentimes we are like
the farmer, unable to see any other way except to clash. We tell
ourselves that we have no choice, but this is an illusion. The
reality is that there is always a way, just as the judge said. We
need to have faith in this, even when the situation seems hopeless.
2. Focus on Oneness
In the survival-oriented mindset, we see life as a win-lose
proposition or as a zero-sum game where someone has to lose in order
for us to win. The perception of the Tao is not based on this
adversarial model, but based on the essential oneness of all
mankind.
The more we understand this oneness, the more we can see that
someone else's loss is indirectly our loss as well, due to the
fundamental connection that binds all of us together. Therefore, in
a win-loss scenario, my opponent's defeat subtracts from my victory
in a way that may not be immediately obvious, but is nevertheless
very real. The only way for us to enjoy a meaningful victory is the
win-win scenario, where everyone benefits, and the other party's
gain will add indirectly to my own, thus transforming the win into a
truly satisfying personal triumph.
3. Seek Common Ground
When we are in the grips of the survival instinct to do battle,
all we can see is us versus them. We perceive differences,
particularly our goodness in contrast with the evil of the other
side. If we can overcome this distorted perception, we are likely to
discover the reality that most of us are not so different after all.
We're all decent people, with goals and dreams that are more alike
than not.
This suggests a way for us to approach conflict resolution.
Seeing the other side as human, just like us, is the first step
toward the discovery of common ground. Working from this position of
commonality and mutual benefit, we can find a way to fit what we
want into what the other side wants, or vice versa.
The hunter ended up with the same goal as the farmer - protection
of the sheep - and this transformed a seemingly difficult problem
into a simple one that could be easily solved. In the same way, when
the goals from both sides are adjusted into alignment, the conflict
that may seem unavoidable at first will simply dissolve into thin
air.
The ultimate lesson we can learn from this story is
that not only is there another way, but this other way is far more
preferable to our typical urge to strike back at someone who we feel has
hurt us. It is based not on harming, but on giving. It always works
because when we give skillfully in accordance with the Tao, we end up
with more, not less.
Next time we run into possible conflicts with other
people, let us turn our attention inward and recall this story to mind,
so we can visit the judge within. This wise old judge will point out a
clear path for us to follow, a path that will take us toward peace,
friendship and joy. This is the Tao - the much, much better way!

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