It was late afternoon in ancient China. Duke Wen Hui walked into the kitchen to inspect the preparations for dinner. He saw that the Royal Chef was cutting up the ox for the main entree. Everything was as he expected.

The Duke was about the leave when a movement of the Chef caught his attention. There was something about it that was surprisingly smooth and graceful. The Chef's hands were gentle and confident as he touched the ox and leaned against it. Even the placement of his feet and knees seemed practiced and assured. There was an art to it that the Duke did not expect at all.

In fact, the Duke thought, this man moved in a way that reminded him of the Mulberry Woods Dance. As he slashed his blade in and out, it was as if he was playing music, making sounds that never fell out of rhythm. His attention was focused; his expression serene. Everything about the scene felt choreographed - although butchering seemed like the farthest thing in the world from such refinements.

The Duke stared transfixed. When the cook was done, he could not help but applaud. "Excellent!" He called out. "I never imagined I would see such transcendent skills applied to such a mundane task!"

The Chef put down his knife and turned to the Duke to bow deeply: "Your Highness."

"How did you do that?" The Duke felt compelled to ask. "How did you advanced your skill so such an incredible level?"

"It is not a skill, Your Highness," the Chef replied. "What I follow is the Tao, which goes beyond all skills."

The Duke did not understand this answer. "I know about the Tao," he said, "but I fail to see any connection between the Tao and what you do. Please explain."

The Chef collected his thoughts: "Your Highness, one of the foremost lessons from the Tao is to look beyond the physical. In the beginning, when I first started doing this, I did not understand that lesson and saw the ox just as most people would. After three years, I mastered the lesson and began to realize what it meant to not look at the ox in the conventional way."

"There is only one way to look at it - with the eyes!" The Duke asked: "What other way is there?"

"With the mind, sire," the Chef told him."The eyes are only a small part of one's perception, so I meet the ox with my mind rather than my eyes. In fact, when I reach out with my feelings and direct my mind's movement, my physical senses are inactive."

"I see," the Duke mused. "How about your hands? Do you also guide your hands with your mind instead of your eyes?"

"Yes, Your Highness," the Chef nodded. "When the mind is in tune with the totality of the situation, the hands will move in accordance to the natural flow. They intuitively know where to seek the large gaps in the structure of the ox. These are the places that come apart easily, almost without resistance."

"Well, the lack of resistance is due to the sharpness of your blade," the Duke pointed out. "You can't give all the credit to your mind."

"I can, in a manner of speaking." The Chef explained: "An average cook goes through one knife a month, because he hacks. A good cook goes through one knife a year, because he cuts. I have used this knife for nineteen years. It has butchered thousands of oxen, but the blade is still as sharp as new."

"How can that be?" The Duke shook his head. "You are cutting through sizable animals, and they are hardly made of paper. Even you must encounter bones every now and then."

"Indeed I do," the Chef admitted, "but the bones have joints and the joints have openings, which are huge compared to the thinness of the blade. With precise guidance, the knife can swish right through such an opening, with room to spare."

"So that is why your knife is as good as new after nineteen years!" The Duke laughed, delighted by this insight.

"Let us be careful to not make it seem simpler than it really is." The Chef continued in a solemn voice: "Joints can be quite complex, so every time I come across them, I note the parts that can be tricky. I make use of caution by focusing my attention and slowing down my movements. Sometimes, it takes only one small, exact movement of the knife. The ox comes apart, and may not even realize it's dead as it hits the ground."

"You certainly seem to enjoy this work," the Duke observed.

"Yes, sire." The Chef reflected: "When I'm finished, I survey my handiwork knowing it was a job well done. I put away my knife and feel a profound sense of satisfaction I cannot easily express."

"Thank you," the Duke clasped the Chef's hand. "You have given me much to think about with your words. What we have discussed here goes beyond cutting up the ox. Today I have learned a priceless principle about living life!"

Butchering may seem like an unlikely subject for Chuang Tzu. Is it really the best way for him to convey his ideas about the Tao? Why not tell a story about meditation instead? Why butchering?

Chuang Tzu understood that the Tao was everywhere, even in things and activities we least expect. He chose butchering deliberately to drive this point home. The truth is that we don't need to be in a temple to be close to the Tao. If a cook can connect with the Tao while cutting cattle in the kitchen, then we can also connect with it in anything we do, and in any place we happen to be.

His descriptions of the Royal Chef's actions were just as deliberate. They convey the essential characteristic of a sage: living life smoothly, gracefully, with a gentle touch, artistic flair… and surprising effectiveness.

How can we live life the same way? The Royal Chef offered the Duke a lesson in four parts:

1. Use Your Intuition

Tao sages never rely solely on their physical senses. Like the Chef meeting the ox with his mind, they always look beyond the surface to discern the underlying essence. This is particularly important in life, because so often we encounter situations that are not what they seem at first. Going by the appearance, like seeing the ox with the eyes instead of the mind, will all but guarantee that we miss the hidden agenda.

Once the sages perceive the underlying essence of a situation, they follow the dictates of this essence to determine their actions and words. This creates an interesting dynamic where observers see transcendant skill in everything they do, but they see themselves as simply moving along the natural path.

This application of the Tao requires practice to master. In recent history, we have seen decisions made with "gut feelings" or "instincts" that resulted in utter disasters. In every instance, it is invariably because the decider proceeded based on surface appearance without understanding the underlying essence. We can learn from their failures.

2. Maintain Your Sharpness

Many people struggle mightily against problems in life. They are the ones Chuang Tzu pointed to as the average cook. When they try to force their way through obstacles, it is just like an average cook trying to hack his way through an ox. They may eventually succeed, but only at a great cost – their blades have become much duller.

The sharpness of the blade in this context refers to your physical, mental and spiritual well-being. When this sharpness is blunted, your well-being suffers, and your ability to face other problems in life will diminish.

This is why it is eminently practical to study the Tao. By mastering and practicing the proven methods of the sages, we resolve problems (cut through oxen) effortlessly. There is no exhaustion, whether physical or otherwise. We feel great and full of energy (the blade remains sharp) and we are ready to face whatever other issues may come our way.

3. Focus Your Attention

Upon hearing that one should follow intuition, some may get the wrong idea and follow randomness instead. They act in careless and thoughtless ways when the teaching talks about being carefree yet thoughtful. Chuang Tzu was aware of this common error and addressed it by having the Chef emphasize the importance of slowing down, increasing your awareness, and being cautious.

Joints represent the complexities of life. Unraveling such complexities is like cutting through joints. They may be situations full of impossible and mutually incompatible demands, where satisfying one group of people brings you into conflict with another group. There is no way to solve such problems with simple solutions, just like a blade cannot separate a compex joint with a straight cut.

Sages solve such problems by focusing their attention. They observe the situation from different perspectives until they see exactly where they can do the most good. Often, this is a pivotal point where the skillful application of leverage produces the greatest impact. When they finally take action, it may be something small and seemingly effortless - perhaps only a word or a gesture - but the dillema falls apart, just like the ox.

4. Complete Your Work

Chuang Tzu's last point is to emphasize the art of living life. Even if you do not think of yourself as an artist, a life well lived is like a beautifully crafted work of art. There can be just as much joy and satisfaction in life as there is in creating a masterpiece. If butchering can be done with an artistic flair, then is there anything under the sun that cannot be done in a similar or better way?

This is a sense of fulfillment that goes well beyond the joy of maintaining one's physical, mental and spiritual health. You can look at your life and feel an inner knowing that you have lived exactly as you should. You know that you have done your part in the greater scheme of things, and all is right with the world.

As the Duke said, this is a priceless principle. It illustrates wu wei and clarifies its meaning. The Tao tradition does not teach "there is no need to do anything" as some may believe. From the words of the Chef, we can see the teaching really says "there is always a way to do anything that is smooth, graceful, effortless, and enjoyable at the deepest level." This is what wu wei really means.

When life brings you into contact with another ox, recall this story to mind. Bring out your blade - it should be as sharp as ever, if you have followed the teaching correctly. Regard the ox not with your eyes but with your mind. Let the Tao move your hands, but slow down whenever appropriate and vary your approach until you find the right spot.

Before long, you will become the skillful Royal Chef. Everyone around you will think you have great skills in solving the most complex problems in life. You alone will know that it is not a skill. Rather, it is the Tao that transcends all skills!

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