Free and Easy Wandering

In the Northern Ocean there is a fish, called the Kun — so vast that no one knows how many thousand li it measures. It changes into a bird called the Peng, whose back spans thousands of li. When it rises and flies, its wings are like clouds hanging from the sky. It migrates to the Southern Ocean, the Lake of Heaven, beating the water for three thousand li and rising on a whirlwind to ninety thousand li.

The cicada and the little dove laugh at the Peng: 'We rise and fly to the elm — why does it need to go ninety thousand li south?' Small knowledge cannot reach great knowledge. The morning mushroom knows nothing of dusk and dawn. The summer cicada knows nothing of spring and autumn.

Liezi rode upon the wind, drifting skillfully for fifteen days before returning. But he still depended on something. One who rides upon the rectitude of heaven and earth, driving the changes of the six breaths, and wandering through the boundless — what could he possibly depend on? Therefore: The perfect person has no self; the spiritual person has no merit; the sage has no name.

Huizi said to Zhuangzi: 'The king gave me seeds of a great gourd. I planted them and they bore fruit weighing five hundred pounds. It was too heavy to use as a water container; too large to use as a dipper. It was big but useless, so I smashed it.' Zhuangzi replied: 'You are clumsy at using what is big. A man of Song had a recipe for a hand salve. For generations his family bleached silk with it, earning little. A traveler bought the recipe for a hundred gold pieces, used it to gain military favor, and received a fief. The recipe was the same — the difference was in how it was used. Why didn't you make your gourd into a great boat and go floating on rivers and lakes?'