The Tale of the Taoist Master and His Dead Wife
Even Masters Grieve
Even Masters Grieve
No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. — Steve Jobs
Death is the elephant in the room at every birthday party, Christmas celebration, and family gathering as you get closer to the grave. I’m old enough to have outlived high school friends, colleagues, and coworkers. Some died in cars, overdosed, and some didn’t wake up the following day.
As a musician, and a drummer, I’ve often used music to help be deal with grief when someone I know dies. I can play as loud as I want and for as long as I want until the kids come home from school. Sometimes I cry while playing and that’s ok. That’s the story about Zhuangzi’s wife dying is especially comforting to me.
Zhuangzi, and the collection of stories which shares his name, is perhaps second only to Lao-tzu in fame in Taoist cannon. While Lao-tzu is a legendary figure who supposedly created the Tao Te Ching in poetic form, Zhuangzi’s text is more narration and story. There is also a fair amount of comedy! In his book, Zhuangzi tells stories in which he is is the main character, but the events are fiction. The following story is one of these tales.
The Day Zhuangzi’s Wife Died
When Huizu went to convey his condolences, he found Zhuangzi sitting with his legs sprawled out, pounding on a tub and singing. “You lived with her, she brought up your children and grew old,” said Huizu. “It should be enough simply not to weep at her death. But pounding on a tub and singing — this is going too far, isn’t it?”
Zhuangzi said, “You’re wrong. When she first died, do you think I didn’t grieve like anyone else? But I looked back to her beginning and the time before she was born. Not only the time before she was born, but the time before she had a body. Not only the time before she had a body, but the time before she had a spirit.
In the midst of the jumble of wonder and mystery a change took place and she had a spirit. Another change and she had a body. Another change and she was born. Now there’s been another change and she’s dead. It’s just like the progression of the four seasons, spring, summer, fall, winter.
Now she’s going to lie down peacefully in a vast room. If I were to follow after her bawling and sobbing, it would show that I don’t understand anything about fate. So I stopped.”
So, in Zhuangzi’s view, death is not the end but another part of the journey. We all come from the Tao, and then we have a spirit. Once we have a soul, we can have a body. But this body will grow old, die, and our soul will return home. We know this from the beginning of our lives, and I took comfort in knowing I’m not going anywhere new or different. I’m going home, and I love going home! It’s quiet and comforting.
I also found it deeply ironic. I, too, play drums when I’m sad, and here is the second most famous Taoist master performing the same act to overcome a profound loss. I struggle terribly with the idea of death. I don’t want to think about losing my wife. I used to think I wouldn’t even know where to begin coping with such a loss.
It’s natural to be sad and in anguish over death and loss, but what we do next makes us different. Accepting what is coming for us and moving beyond it is the key. Like Zhuangzi, be sad, cry, and take the necessary time. But afterward, don’t forget to live, laugh, and cherish the moments you have left.
Life is only precious because it ends.
If you enjoy Patrick’s work, consider purchasing his book of creative writing and poetry.
In Progress (The Life of Patrick Stewart Book 1)
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Patrick B. Stewart is writing a book and trying to spread some happiness to everyone
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