|
Lung Shu said to the physician Wen Chi, “Your art is
subtle. I have an ailment; can you cure it?”
The physician said, “I will do as you say, but first
tell me about your symptoms.” |
|
|
|
Lung Shu said, “I am
not honoured when the whole village praises me, nor am I ashamed when the
whole country criticises me. Gain does not make me happy, loss does not
grieve me. I look upon life as like death, and see wealth as like poverty. I
view people as like pigs, and see myself as like others. At home I am as
though at an inn, and I look upon my native village as like a foreign
country. With these afflictions, rewards cannot encourage me, punishments
cannot threaten me. I cannot be changed by flourishing or decline, gain or
loss; I cannot be moved by sorrow or happiness. Thus I cannot serve the
government, associate with friends, run my household, or control my
servants. What sickness is this? Is there a way to cure it?” |
|
The physician had Lung Shu stand with his back to the
light while he looked into his chest. After a while he said, “Aha! I see
your heart; it is empty! You are nearly a sage. Six of the apertures of your
heart are open, one of them is closed. This may be why you think the wisdom
of a sage is an ailment. It cannot be stopped by my shallow art.” |
|