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I am simply an amateur
A Chinese story about an archer who was the greatest archer in the whole land. He went to the emperor saying that the whole country should be made aware that if anybody wants to contest with him, he's available. "If nobody turns up, then you have to declare me the champion of archery." The emperor knew the man, and he knew his art, his archery, and he knew there was nobody else who could even come close to him. His art was perfect; he never missed a target. So the emperor was willing to declare him the champion of archery in the whole land of China. Just at that moment, his old prime minister prevented him saying, "Wait a minute, because I know a man who lives far away in the mountains. Unless this archer goes to that old man, and that old man certifies that he should be declared the champion, you should wait. You should not be in a hurry, because that old man is not only the champion of this land, he is the champion of the whole world, although he's a non-competitive man, non-ambitious, and people don't know about him. Send this archer first to get a certificate from that old man." And he gave the directions where the old man would be found. The archer could not believe that anyone could be better; he was one hundred percent successful in hitting the bulls eye exactly in the middle, he never missed the target. It was inconceivable for him that anybody could be a better archer! But there was no way.... The emperor told him to go to the mountains, and bring a certificate. It was a difficult journey. The old man lived on a very high peak of the mountain, alone. He was really very old, almost ancient, and he had no bow, no arrows. He was just sitting under a tree. The archer asked, "Are you the man who is the greatest archer in the world?" The old man said, "Perhaps, because on this mountain nobody else lives. But I can't be certain because I have never been competitive. As far as archery is concerned, for twenty years I have not touched the bow, have not seen the arrows. In fact, I have lost track where they are. But what is the problem? Why have you traveled so far?" The young man said, "I knew it before that this would be an unnecessary journey! A man who has not touched the bow for twenty years, and who has even forgotten where his bow and his arrows are...." Still, because of the emperor's requirement, he said to the old man, "I want to be declared the champion of the art in the whole country, and the emperor has sent me to get your certificate." The old man said, "That is not difficult. But seeing a bow with you, and the arrows, makes me suspicious that you are an amateur because the old saying is: `When the musician becomes perfect, he throws away his musical instruments; when the archer becomes really an archer, perfect in his art, he breaks down his bow, and throws the arrows.' They are good to begin with, but one has to transcend technique at a certain moment. You will have to pass two tests: one is, do you see that protruding rock over the valley?" There was a long rock, very low, protruding over a very deep valley, thousands of feet deep. The old man said, "Go to that rock, to the very end. The test is to stand at the very end, with half your feet hanging over the rock, with just the front part, your toes, on the rock. If you can stand there without any trembling, you have passed the first test." The man said, "My God! But what kind of archery is this? This is sure death!" But the old man said, "I will go first to show you the way it has to be done." He could not believe his eyes. The old man went to the very end of the protruding rock; and he stood there with half the feet on the rock, over the valley thousands of feet deep. And there was not even a small wavering or trembling. He called the young man, "Now, come on, and stand by my side." The young man tried just one step on the rock. As he looked downward, such fear overwhelmed him... he fell on the ground, trembling, perspiring. He could not reach the end -- he was only at the beginning of the rock. The old man said, "What is the matter? Come on, have courage. If you are so fearful and trembling inside, your archery cannot be of great value, because it is your hands which will take the bow and it is your hands which will take the arrows; it is your heart which has to be used in it. This fear... try, make an effort." He started crawling on all fours. Standing and moving on that rock, he found impossible. Those thousands of feet were so dangerous; just a single wrong step and you will never be found. You will be broken into bits and pieces and thrown over the whole valley. But he could reach by crawling only to the middle. He said, "More than that, I cannot do." The old man laughed. He came back, supported the man to stand up, and took him back to the tree. He said, "I had said you are just an amateur; otherwise there is no need of this bow and these arrows. Now, look at me: when the archer becomes perfect his eyes become arrows, his very being becomes the bow." He looked at a flying flock of twelve cranes, and they all fell down on the earth. He said, "If you can make even a single bird fall down on the earth, just with your eyes, I will certify you." The young man said, "That is impossible. How can one do it?" The old man said, "I have just done it, and not one, twelve cranes are just dead, lying before you." The young man said, "You are right; I am simply an amateur. I would like to be accepted as a disciple; I would like to learn archery." The old man said, "That sounds right. Be here." After ten years, the old man said, "Now you can go back, but don't go to the emperor; go home. The day you suddenly realize, seeing your bow hanging on the wall, that you cannot recognize it, that is the day you can go to the emperor." The emperor was becoming very old, and he enquired again and again from his prime minister, "What happened to that young man?" The prime minister said, "He has reached the old man; I have been watching. He's learning, he has reached his home, and now he's waiting for the sign to come." The emperor said, "I am becoming very old." One day, a few years after coming home, the man looked at the bow hanging on the wall, and enquired of his son, "What is that object?" The son said, "Have you gone mad? It is your bow, those are your arrows." He said, "Bow? Arrows? Am I an archer?" The son said, "Are you laughing at me, or kidding me? or just going senile?" He said, "No, the time has come. I have to go to the emperor." The son asked, "For what?" He said, "To be declared the champion of archery in the land." He went to the emperor. The prime minister said, "Have you brought the certificate?" He said, "I am the certificate." They were sitting in the garden. He looked at a bird flying faraway in the sky, almost invisible. But as he looked at the bird, the bird came falling to the feet of the emperor.
The emperor said, "Is this archery or some kind of magic?" The man said, "I don't know, but this is what that old man has taught me: that if you are a perfect archer, you don't need the bow, you don't need the arrows; your eyes are enough. If you are a perfect musician, you don't need instruments; your silence is music enough." It is a beautiful story, very ancient, almost three thousand years old. Lao Tzu used to tell the story to his disciples, and that was twenty-five centuries ago. The story must have been far older.
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bisher 2 Kommentar(e)
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woody
/ Website
(19.3.07 15:01)
Great stories.
Just found you by accident.....coincidence?
You should tell more stories! I'll be your reader.
Have nice, peaceful day
Woody
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Hans-Wolfgang
/ Website
(19.3.07 19:08)
Thank you, Woody, for your loving feedback.
This beautiful poem of Eustace Owen is for you:
A BUTTERFLY
A BUTTERFLY RESTED UPON A FLOWER,
GAY WAS HE AND LIGHT AS A FLAKE,
AND THERE HE MET A CATERPILLAR
SOBBING AS THOUGH HIS HEART WOULD BREAK;
IT HURT THE HAPPY BUTTERFLY
TO SEE A CATERPILLAR CRY.
SAID HE, 'WHATEVER IS THE MATTER?
AND MAY I HELP YOU IN ANY WAY?'
'I'VE LOST MY BROTHER,' WEPT THE OTHER,
'HE HAS BEEN UNWELL FOR MANY A DAY;
NOW I DISCOVER, SAD TO TELL,
HE'S ONLY A DEAD AND EMPTY SHELL.'
'UNHAPPY GRUB, BE DONE WITH WEEPING,
YOUR SICKLY BROTHER IS NOT DEAD:
HIS BODY'S STRONGER AND NO LONGER
CRAWLS LIKE A WORM, BUT FLIES INSTEAD.
HE DANCES THROUGH THE SUNNY HOURS
AND DRINKS SWEET NECTAR FROM THE FLOWERS.'
'AWAY, AWAY DECEITFUL VILLAIN,
GO TO THE WINDS WHERE YOU BELONG.
I WON'T BE GRIEVING AT YOUR LEAVING,
SO TAKE AWAY YOUR LYING TONGUE.
AM I A FOOLISH SLUG OR SNAIL,
TO SWALLOW SUCH A FAIRY TALE? '
'I'LL PROVE MY WORDS, YOU UNBELIEVER,
NOW LISTEN WELL, AND LOOK AT ME.
I AM NONE OTHER THAN YOUR BROTHER,
ALIVE AND WELL AND FANCY FREE.
SOON YOU'LL BE WITH ME IN THE SKIES
AMONG THE FLIRTING BUTTERFLIES.'
'AH!' CRIED THE MOURNFUL CATERPILLAR,
'TIS CLEAR I MUST BE SEEING THINGS.
YOU'RE ONLY A SPECTRE SIPPING NECTAR,
FLICKING YOUR ORNAMENTAL WINGS,
AND TALKING NONSENSE BY THE YARD.
I WILL NOT HEAR ANOTHER WORD.'
THE BUTTERFLY GAVE UP THE STRUGGLE.
'I HAVE,' HE SAID, 'NO MORE TO SAY.'
HE SPREAD HIS SPLENDID WINGS AND ASCENDED
INTO THE AIR AND FLEW AWAY.
AND WHILE HE FLUTTERED FAR AND WIDE,
THE CATERPILLAR SAT AND CRIED.
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