CHAPTER SIX
I Dreamed I Was a Butterfly
Everything in creation undergoes perpetual change and transformation. That is the nature of life, growth, and death. This process begins with the evolution of the creation from nothingness or void to being and form, and then back to the pre-creation void. This is true right down to human life – we are born, grow up, live, and die. Sometimes we are ill, sometimes we are well. Sometimes we are poor, sometimes we are wealthy. We can go through every type of change with equanimity if we can adapt without anguish or attachment.
An evocative metaphor for the ever-changing events of life is the movement of the river. Another is the dragon, whose serpentine movement represents the fluidity and diversity of life and time; the dragon maneuvers around and through all obstacles. This creature, which sometimes sheds its skin, sometimes swallows others whole, sometimes burrows underground, is the key “generative and transformative symbol of Chinese culture.”114 Its undulating movement mimics the natural landscape and architecture of China. It represents adaptation to change, which is essential to understanding the Chinese attitude to a spiritual life.
Another potent symbol of transformation is the butterfly, which represents not only spiritual transformation but also resurrection in many world religions and cultures. The butterfly develops and changes form in each of its four life stages. It begins as an embryo, then turns into a crawling caterpillar. Later it is encased in a cocoon, and eventually it emerges as the delicate, fluttering insect that has fascinated human beings for aeons, its wings a gemlike palette of brightly colored abstract patterns.
In ancient Greek the word for “butterfly” is psyche, which means “mind” or “soul.” It is also said that in early Christianity, the butterfly symbolized the resurrection of the soul, with images of butterflies often carved on gravestones.
But perhaps the most famous use of the symbol of the butterfly – at least in spiritual literature – is an enigmatic anecdote or koan in the Zhuangzi, which poses the question of what is reality and what is illusion. More specifically, what is our true identity? And what is the difference between life and death as we move from form to form, life to life?
Once upon a time, I, Zhuangzi, dreamed I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was Zhuangzi. Soon I awakened, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man. Between a man and a butterfly there is necessarily a distinction. The transition is called the transformation of material things.115
Who are we? we ask ourselves. Are we truly soul, symbolized by the butterfly, flitting about without consciousness of time and space, free of body and mind, happy only in our experience as a soul? Or are we physical human beings, very much attached to mind and body, who can only dream of existence as a soul? Can we break out of our cocoon of body and mind, where we are burdened by desires and attachments?
Zhuangzi’s story raises the question: Which is the dream and which is the reality? Or are both levels of consciousness actually dreams?
It seems that to find happiness, we need to awaken from the dream that we are living in every day, as well as the dream we dream while we are sleeping. We are not happy here in this world, which is why we dream of being a butterfly – why the soul dreams of being free. Why would we want to live in the dream of this life when we can awaken to the joy of living eternally in the Dao?
In the same chapter as the butterfly dream, Zhuangzi presents the example of people who dream of living in great luxury, yet they awaken to the sorrow of its impermanence. Likewise, those who are dreaming fretfully of sorrow also awaken to the fact that even their sorrow is an illusion; when they awaken, they “join the hunt” – they get engaged in the activities of life. This shows that no human experience is permanent – it is all illusion, a dream. All physical life constantly undergoes transformation. It is as if God is playing a joke on us, because we have no idea of what the reality is. Zhuangzi wrote:
Those who dream of the banquet wake to lamentation and sorrow. Those who dream of lamentation and sorrow wake to join the hunt. While they dream, they do not know that they are dreaming. Some will even interpret the very dream they are dreaming; and only when they awake do they know it was a dream.
By and by comes the Great Awakening, and then we find out that this life is really a great dream. Fools think they are awake now, and flatter themselves they know – this one is a prince, and that one is a shepherd. What narrowness of mind!
Confucius and you are both dreams; and I who say you are dreams – I am but a dream myself. This is a paradox. Tomorrow a sage may arise to explain it; but that tomorrow will not be until ten thousand generations have gone by. Yet you may meet him around the corner.116
Zhuangzi is emphasizing here that you and I, and even Confucius, the great philosopher – we who speak about reality and illusion – even we are illusions. We are all living in the dream. What is the reality? It is a great paradox. And then Zhuangzi says: Perhaps someday a sage or saint will come to explain it; then we will know there is no time or space, that all is an illusion. To express this, he says the saint may not appear for another ten thousand generations, but then we will see he has been with us all the time – “you may meet him around the corner.” This whole discussion is an illusion. The only truth is that all of life is change and transformation.
Transformation Is Inevitable
The Huainanzi includes a section that describes the natural order of plants and animals that may not be apparent to others. Everything that exists follows its own intrinsic nature, its dé – as it must, because it is inbuilt – it is ziran (its own nature). This section is a beautiful ode to the natural order of life.
Floating plants take root in water,
Land plants take root in the soil,
Birds fly by stroking emptiness,
Animals run by treading solidity.
Alligators and dragons make their home
in water,
Tigers and leopards dwell in the mountains.
This is the nature of the world.Two pieces of wood
when rubbed together ignite;
When kept close to fire, metal becomes molten;
Round things normally spin,
Hollow things chiefly float.
It is their natural inclination to do so.Hence, when the spring winds come,
Without anyone ever seeing the actual doing,
they bring the timely rains;
And the myriad things are produced
and nourished.
Feathered creatures incubate
and hatch their eggs,
Furred creatures conceive and give birth
to their young. Plants and trees bloom, …
the deed is accomplished.
And then, when death and rebirth are meant to happen, everything follows its natural course (its dé) in that inevitable transformation.
When the autumn winds bring the frost,
Vegetation is injured and snaps.
Eagles and falcons sweep down on their prey,
Swarming insects hibernate,
Plants and trees put down their roots,
And fishes and turtles make for the deep.
Without anyone ever seeing the actual doing,
Things disappear without a trace.
Huainanzi then brings more examples from the lives of human beings and how they adapt to the environment of wherever they live. The myriad created things, from plant to animal to human, follow their own nature, which the translator calls being “so-of-themselves.”
The myriad things have been so-of-themselves
from the beginning –
What room is there for interference
by the sage?117
There is no need to try to change the way people live. The sage respects nature’s dé because he is in tune with nature – he follows the Dao. He knows that dé is guiding people’s intrinsic nature. He concludes this section by giving an example of how people can adapt to the society and environment of wherever they are, even at their most extreme, and thus live peacefully. In fact, these few lines may be a metaphor for a much deeper meaning – divesting oneself of the mind and entering the realm of the spirit.
Thus, when Yu went to the Country
of the Naked,
He took off his clothing before entering
and put it on again before departing.
This was basing his actions on local custom.118
Back to Zhuangzi
The Zhuangzi recounts a tongue-in-cheek, yet serious discussion among four friends about life and death. It provides an example of how accepting change can bring about detachment. One man saw his body getting old and that amused him. He didn’t let it discourage him; rather he saw the humor in his transformation, as he realized it was a natural progression of his form, just as life progresses to death and then begins again.
Master Si, Master Yu, Master Li, and Master Lai were all four talking together. “Who can look on non-being as his head, on life as his back, and on death as his rump?” they said. “Who knows that life and death, existence and annihilation, are all a single body? I will be his friend!”
The four men looked at one another and smiled. There was no disagreement in their hearts, and so the four of them became friends.
All at once, Master Yu fell ill. Master Si went to ask how he was. “Amazing!” said Master Yu. “The Creator is making me all crookedy like this! My back sticks up like a hunchback, and my vital organs are on top of me. My chin is hidden in my navel, my shoulders are up above my head, and my pigtail points at the sky. It must be some dislocation of the yin and yang!”
Yet he seemed calm at heart and unconcerned. Dragging himself haltingly to the well, he looked at his reflection and said, “My, my! So the Creator is making me all crookedy like this!”
“Do you resent it?” asked Master Si.
“Why no, what would I resent? If the process continues, perhaps in time he’ll transform my left arm into a rooster. In that case I’ll keep watch during the night. Or perhaps in time he’ll transform my right arm into a crossbow pellet, and I’ll shoot down an owl for roasting. Or perhaps in time he’ll transform my buttocks into cartwheels. Then, with my spirit for a horse, I’ll climb up and go for a ride. What need will I ever have for a carriage again?
“I received life because the time had come; I will lose it because the order of things passes on. Be content with this time and dwell in this order, and then neither sorrow nor joy can touch you. In ancient times this was called the ‘freeing of the bound.’ There are those who cannot free themselves because they are bound by things. But nothing can ever win against Heaven – that’s the way it’s always been. What would I have to resent?”
Suddenly Master Lai grew ill. Gasping and wheezing, he lay at the point of death. His wife and children gathered round in a circle and began to cry. Master Li, who had come to ask how he was, said, “Shoo! Get back! Don’t disturb the process of change!”
Then he leaned against the doorway and talked to Master Lai. “How marvelous the Creator is! What is he going to make out of you next?
“Where is he going to send you? Will he make you into a rat’s liver? Will he make you into a bug’s arm?”
Master Lai said, “A child, obeying his father and mother, goes wherever he is told, east or west, south or north. And the yin and yang – how much more are they to a man than father or mother! Now that they have brought me to the verge of death, if I should refuse to obey them, how perverse I would be! What fault is it of theirs?
“The Great Clod (earthly life) burdens me with form, labors me with life, eases me in old age, and rests me in death. So if I think well of my life, for the same reason I must think well of my death.
“When a skilled smith is casting metal, if the metal should leap up and say, ‘I insist on being made into a Moye!’ (a rare and famous sword), he would surely regard it as very inauspicious metal indeed.
“Now, having had the audacity to take on human form once, if I should say, ‘I don’t want to be anything but a man! Nothing but a man!’ the Creator would surely regard me as a most inauspicious sort of person.
“So now I think of heaven and earth as a great furnace, and the Creator as a skilled smith. Where could he send me that would not be all right? I will go off to sleep peacefully, and then with a start, I will wake up.”119