Would you be Emperor?
Taoism and Zen
By Yeiazel
A stonemason very clever lived at the foot of a mountain. He had the gift to choose best career blocks, pull them in a jiffy, cut them with skill. The mastery of his art earned him a reputation that was peddled to the capital of the canton. A rich merchant had him come for him to order pink sandstone steps to replace the old rotten wooden staircase. During his work, the tailor had leisure to enjoy the splendid remains of the bourgeois, the furniture of precious woods, lavish meals, numerous servants, his wife and his concubine dolled up in their silk dresses.
When the architect came home, the contrast was so striking that it was the vague yearnings. Despite his talent, he're struggling to reach just to feed her numerous progeny. He was condemned to live in a shack close and smoky, to eat rice porridge with his dowdy wife, in the midst of their noisy brood. He would never have the good life of the bourgeois! The next day, the stonemason went to the mountain. Having the heart to work, he left the path leading to careers and climbed the one that led to the bamboo hut of a Taoist. The old hermit was said to be immortal, magician, gave her a bitter-sweet tea and asked him what led him torment until his modest pension. The architect told him his visit to the bourgeois, in the end, bemoaned his fate. - Who has seen the illusion of this changing world, "replied the sage, which opened at the Tao, would not share his hut against a palace. But how to give what one does not know?
And the old hand sketched a way of ideogram, murmuring a few words impenetrable. The stone is found immediately to the place of the rich merchant, in his sumptuous home adorned with a new pink sandstone staircase! He does not put more Questions and hastened to bite your teeth this opulent and cozy life.
few days later, when he strolled down the main street of the village, the tailor saw the crowd move away to allow a procession. It was the prefect tour of inspection, comfortably installed in a golden palanquin, surrounded by his servants and his guards gleaming. The mountain man, dumbfounded, stood in the middle of the transition to contemplate the show, forcing the procession to stop. The guards rushed upon him and presented at the Mandarin unfortunate who had the temerity to stop his palanquin. The official, furious, ordered him to receive a hundred lashes and to pay a hundred taels of silver. It n'outrage with impunity the representative of the Son of Heaven! Our stonemason was sorry not to have intended rather to be the prefect ... and he soon found himself in the golden palanquin!
When he discovered the palace of the Mandarin, stonemason could not believe his eyes. Lacquerware, jade figurines and ivory, fine food, concubines in their mesmerizing delicate satin dresses, all these luxuries made him dizzy. Overjoyed, he thought he had reached the kingdom of Immortal. But our official, who lacked the experience of his predecessor, received a call one day at the Forbidden City where he was served that His Imperial Highness, who had numerous complaints about him, removes him from office and sending him combat the barbaric North. Our stonemason was sorry not to be emperor. There at least he would have to answer to anyone and he would be master of the world. He also enjoys the most magnificent palace that mortal eyes can behold.
And by the power of the Taoist mountain, stonecutter found himself seated on the throne Imperial. The new emperor, not understanding much about the slang or the diplomatic platitudes politics, left his ministers to govern in his place. He preferred gardening delightfully landscaped park in the Forbidden City and lounging on the couches of friendly gynoecium. And stonemasons in his innocence, was put into practice, without knowing it, the precept of Lao Tzu: By virtue of inaction, the natural order is maintained. but we do not improvise with impunity Son of Heaven and probably neglected there some ancient ritual that kept the harmony between Heaven and Earth. A terrible drought descended on the Middle Kingdom. Streams and ponds were dry, springs and wells dried up. Even in the shade of the garden walls of the Forbidden City, the scorching heat took its toll. Under the blazing sun, peonies, roses, orchids, bamboo groves and dwarf died of thirst in the hands of the emperor tenderized. The most powerful ruler of the world realized that the Sun was above him. And stonemason fervently regretted not to be enthroned in his place in heaven.
From her distant mountain, the old Taoist CAPTA soon his thoughts because, suddenly, the stonemason insatiable strutted on the sky. Thence it could impose its will on the entire surface of the earth, caressing and singing to the diversity of landscapes, people and things. And admire his work constantly renewed. Until the day when the clouds returned. First, he was blind and totally blind. He could not enjoy the spectacle he created. It enraged. The cloud, the vapor inconsistent, was more powerful than himself, fiery furnace. He regretted not being in his place.
The sage of the mountain executed his little hocus-pocus, and our stonecutter found himself cloud. He had some time to fuck the sun, nonchalantly pulling him his smokescreen. But he was soon swept away by a strong current of air that the taciturn tossed in six directions, the frayed and tore it. He was helpless in the hands of the wind. He had found his master, perhaps the most powerful, most elusive of the universe. He regretted not having thought of it earlier.
By the power of the old sage, the stonemason was breath of wind. It picked up speed, strength, turned into a fearsome hurricane. He played in overthrowing the trees, blowing the roofs to crumbling walls. He was arrested by a high mountain. He set upon her, tried to shake it, the root, from the climb. Nothing helped. It lost its steam. So he had found stronger than him. He wished to be mountains.
And through the magic of the Tao, the stonemason was a lofty peak, crowned with clouds. He was immovable and insensitive to snow and sunlight. He thought he had attained the supreme bliss of an immortal. But he frowned, showing a small annoyance. One of his toes itched and he could not scratch! As was annoying! Unbearable, even! Finally he noticed, through a patch of fog, a tiny human, a mortal wretch, who was holding a sledgehammer. Was a small stone mason, a nobody, who undermined morale! There was therefore nothing more powerful in the world that this poor guy ...
And after the magical journey that made him the wise, the stonecutter found himself in his career, at the foot of the mountain. He admired the landscape as if his legs had never worn before. Then he set to work, singing loudly. In the evening he went home, kissed his wife and happy children he found it more beautiful and more real than the courtiers. And he never complained about his fate.
Do not seek happiness
in your neighbor's orchard.
Creuse more indoors
- broadcast for the first time on the site of "
by Yeiazel 