Fables That Fix Lives: Ancient Code for Modern Problems

 We join spokes in a wheel, but it is the center hole that makes the wagon move. We shape clay into a pot, but it is the emptiness inside that holds whatever we want. We hammer wood for a house, but it is the inner space that makes it livable. We work with being but non-being is what we use.

Once a detachment of soldiers was marching through a wood to avoid meeting a larger detachment of the enemy in the neighborhood. The drummer kept beating his drum, through not loudly. The sound, however, attracted the attention of the enemy, and they surrounded the party. The captain bade the drummer beat with all his energy to inspire his men with courage. So he did. They fought like lions, and won the day. The captain said, "Good and evil often flow from the same source."

  A Man once stood up at a marketplace in the East and said, "I have been ordered by the king to collect all the well-born and well-bred and bring them before him, since he wishes to reward them." Everybody that heard him joined him, and he went towards the palace surrounded by the whole town. Then he suddenly turned round and said, "The king has just sent me word that he means to help only those that have been ill-born and ill-bred to make up for their misfortunes." The crowd lingered behind for a while, and then one after another joined the man as ill-born and ill-bred to merit the king's gifts. The man said, "The world goes as the wind blows!"

A Razor once said to a sword, "How is it that men always speak of you with respect, while they hardly make any mention of me?" "Because," said the sword, "you skim over the surface, while I go deeper." "Just so,"said the razor, "and thereby do them more harm than ever I can." "You are quite right, " said the strop, who was of course an ally of the razor; "men always call those great that do them the largest amount of harm.  The greater the evil, the greater the glory!"

  In a grocery store there was a very clever parrot.   In another store there was a myna that could talk. One day the owners of the two stores brought their birds together and decided to have a singing contest. The parrot first sang a poem. The myna followed in a clear, high-pitched voice, almost like that of the parrot’s. When the parrot stopped singing, the myna teased it and tried to talk with it, but the parrot kept silent. The onlookers thought that strange and asked the parrot why it didn’t say anything to the myna. “Its voice is not so good as mine,” answered the parrot, “but it is more cunning than I. If I open my mouth again, it will learn to imitate me.”

A parrot left its own home and flew to another mountain. The birds and animals living there all loved it very much. “This is a nice place,” thought the parrot, “but it’s not my home.” A few days later it said good-bye to them. Several months after its return the mountain caught fire. Seeing this, the parrot loaded its feathers with water, flew to the top of the mountain, and flapped its wings to sprinkle water on the fire. When the Heavenly God saw this, he asked the parrot, “How can you possibly put out the fire with so little water?” “I know,” the parrot answered, “but I once lived here and everyone treated me like a brother. It breaks my heart to see this mountain on fire. I’ll do all that I can to help them put out the fire.” Moved by what the parrot said, the Heavenly God helped it put out the fire.

  An old crow in the south had a son old enough to learn how to cry. “My voice is really ugly and nobody likes me in this world,” thought the old crow. “I can’t change my voice, but I’ll have my son change his.” One day she took her son to the magpie and said to him, “My son wants to be your student so that he can learn how to cry beautifully. If in the future my son’s voice becomes beautiful and everyone in this world likes him, I shall be very grateful and repay you with a handsome reward.” The magpie accepted the young crow and taught him how to cry like a magpie, but no matter how hard the crow tried, he could never do it right. This upset the magpie. He started to peck at and beat the crow, who still couldn’t change his ugly voice. Looking at him hopelessly, the magpie said to the crow, “I can never make you change your voice.” Then he asked him to go back. When the crow got home, he started to imitate his moth­er’s voice and before long, he learned how to cry like a c...

  A Fowler in the East once went to a wood, scattered some grain on the ground, spread a net over it with some lime in it, and was watching from a distance to see what luck would attend his efforts. A great many birds assembled on the trees around the net, and said, "What fine corn that is! We can seldom hope to get anything like it." An owl that was close by said, "How nice that white thing in the net is!" "What is it?" said the birds. "Why, it is our best friend in the world; it is lime. When it holds us in its embrace, we can never hope to get away." The birds left the place at once. Said the fowler, "A clever bird knows the lime!" #CorporateExploitation #Neocolonialism #GlobalEconomy #ForeignInvestment #EconomicTraps #ThirdWorldStruggles #BusinessEthics #SustainableDevelopment #BewareTheBait # ModernSlavery

Once upon a time, four owls went out, each to a part of the world, to see how people liked things, ill and false, and came back to tell of what they had seen. To owl that went north said, "I saw by a stream, the fish make mouths at the birds. They further said, 'Look at our fins and their wings, how queer they are!" The owl that went south said, "I saw on a hill a fly of fair hues go by the door of hive; the bees said, "Look, he has come to beg of us for some food.' The fly said to a friend of his, 'These rogues, I mean the bees, stole the sweets from the blooms when the air was dry, so now I have naught to eat when it is cold." The owl that went east said, "I saw in a wood a pard go out from his den. The wolf went with him a few yards, came back, and said to a friend of his, 'The pard is a knave, yet I cling to him, for he is strong." The owl that went west said, "I saw a bear pass by a lion's den. A fox close by said the bea...

  Colors blind the eye. Sounds deafen the ear. Flavors numb the taste. Thoughts weaken the mind. Desire withers the heart. The Master observes the world but trusts his inner vision. He allows things to come and go. His heart is open as the sky. [Lao Tzu]

  A man was deeply irritated by the egrets that kept coming to catch fish in his pond. To scare them away, he placed a scarecrow by the pond—dressed in a straw rain cape and a straw hat, with a bamboo pole in its hand. At first, the egrets were frightened by the scarecrow and only dared to hover nearby. But when they realized it was nothing more than a dummy, they swooped down to catch fish again. Some even perched on its straw hat, looking carefree and content. Seeing this, the man had a new idea. He removed the scarecrow and stood there himself, dressed in the same straw rain cape and hat. As usual, the egrets returned—some even landed on his hat. But this time, one unlucky egret couldn’t escape. When the other egrets saw their companion caught, they fled in fear. Flapping its wings desperately, the trapped egret cried, “Fake! Fake!” “Before, it was fake,” the man mocked. “Now how can you say it’s still fake?”

  A porcupine, searching for shelter, asked some snakes to let him into their cave. The snakes agreed and allowed him inside. However, they soon regretted their kindness, as his sharp, prickly quills made their home unbearable. Annoyed and uncomfortable, they begged him to leave and give them back their cave. But the porcupine refused. "If anyone dislikes it here," he said, "let them be the ones to leave. As for me, I’m quite comfortable where I am."  

Empty your mind of all thoughts. Let your heart be at peace. Watch the turmoil of beings, but contemplate their return. Each separate being in the universe return to the common source. Returning to the source is serenity. It you don't realize the source, your stumble in confusion and sorrow. When you realize where you come from, you naturally become tolerant, disinterested, amused, kindhearted as a grandmother, dignified as a king. Immersed in the wonder of the Tao, you can deal with whatever life brings you, and when death comes, you are ready.

  One day, a stork moved its nest from a mound outside the city gate to a pillar at the entrance of a graveyard. The keeper of the yard noticed this and hurried to inform Ziyou, a local official of Wucheng. “Storks always know when rain is coming,” the keeper said. “Now that it has moved its nest, there must be a flood on the way.” “You’re right,” Ziyou agreed. He immediately ordered the townspeople to prepare boats. A few days later, heavy rain poured down, and the river swelled, flooding the mound where the stork had once lived. The downpour continued relentlessly, and soon, even the pillar—along with the nest perched upon it—was nearly submerged. The stork circled above its drowning nest, crying out in distress, unsure where to go next. “How tragic!” Ziyou sighed. “Though the stork is wise, its foresight is still limited.”

One sunny afternoon, a clam emerged from the riverbank, spreading its shell wide to soak in the warm sunlight. Nearby, a hungry snipe spotted the exposed clam and swooped down, aiming to snatch its tender flesh. But the clam was quick—it snapped its shell shut, trapping the snipe’s beak in a tight grip. The snipe, unable to free itself, hissed, "If the sun stays hot and no rain falls for two days, you’ll dry out and die!" Unshaken, the clam retorted, "And if I don’t let you go, you’ll starve before then!" Neither would back down. Their fierce standoff lasted so long that a passing fisherman noticed them—and with a swift motion, he captured them both.  

  The fair was in full swing when ‘ Nasrudin ’s senior disciple asked if he and his fellow students might visit it. "Certainly," said ‘ Nasrudin ’, "for this is an ideal opportunity to continue practical teaching." The ‘ Mulla ’ headed straight for the shooting gallery—one of the fair's great attractions, where large prizes were offered for even a single bulls eye. As ‘ Nasrudin ’ and his flock appeared, townsfolk gathered around. When the ‘ Mulla ’ himself took up the bow and three arrows, tension mounted. Surely, they thought, this would prove ‘Nasrudin’ had finally overreached himself. "Study me attentively," said the ‘Mulla’ . He flexed the bow, tilted his cap back like a soldier, took careful aim, and fired. The arrow flew wide of the mark. A roar of derision erupted from the crowd. ‘Nasrudin’s pupils stirred uneasily, muttering among themselves. The ‘Mulla’ turned and faced them. "Silence! This was a demonstration of how a soldi...

  When people see some things as beautiful, other things became ugly. When people see some things as good, other things became bad. Being and non-being create each other. Difficult and easy support each other. Long and short define each other. High and low depend on each other. Before and after follow each other. Therefore, the Master acts without doing anything and teaches without saying anything. Things arise and she lets them come; things disappear and she lets them go. She has but doesn't possess, acts but doesn't expect. When her work is done, she forgets it. That is why it lasts forever.

  The frogs, living an easy and free life in the lakes and ponds, once prayed to Jupiter to send them a king. Jove (Jupiter), being in a merry mood at the time, threw them a log, saying as he did so: "There, then, is a king for you." Awed by the splash, the frogs watched their new king in fear and trembling. At last, encouraged by its stillness, one bold frog jumped onto the log's shoulder. Soon, many others followed, leaping upon their silent, unresisting king and making merry on his back. But they quickly grew tired of such a lifeless ruler. So they petitioned Jupiter again, begging for a more active king. This time, Jupiter sent them a stork—who immediately began tossing them about and gobbling them up without mercy. Horrified, the frogs wasted no time in begging the god to restore their peaceful past. "No, no," replied Jupiter. "A harmless king did not please you. Now you must live with the one you have—or you may end up with someone even wors...

  One day the famous archer " Genglei" and the king of Wei , standing beneath a high platform, saw a bird flying from the east. The archer said to the king, “I can shoot the bird down just by drawing my bowstring.” “You mean archery can reach as high a level as this?” asked the king.  “Yes,” the archer answered.   A moment later the bird flew nearby . It was a solitary wild goose. " Genglei" drew the bowstring, and the goose fell down at its twang. “So,” said the king, “archery can really reach such a level.” " Genglei" said, “This is a solitary goose, wounded and not yet recovered.” “How do you know that?” asked the king.  The archer answered, “ It flew slowly because of the wounds and cried mournfully because it was separated from its flock. With the wounds unhealed, the goose had a linger­ing fear. Startled by the twang of the bowstring, it tried to soar to greater heights with all its might, which opened the old wounds. The goose couldn’t sta...

  In ancient times, there lived an old woodcutter who ventured into the mountains nearly every day to chop wood. It was said that this man was a miser, hoarding his silver until it turned to gold, valuing wealth above all else in the world.   One day, as he worked, a fierce tiger leaped at him. Though he fled, escape was impossible—the beast seized him in its jaws and carried him away. The woodcutter’s son, seeing his father in peril, grabbed a long knife and gave chase. Unburdened, he ran faster than the tiger, which struggled under the weight of its prey. Soon, the son caught up to them.   Miraculously, the old man was unharmed, as the tiger had only gripped his clothes. But when the son raised his knife to strike, the woodcutter cried out in panic,  "Don’t ruin the tiger’s skin! Don’t spoil it! If you kill it without cutting holes, we can sell the pelt for a fortune! Strike carefully— don’t damage the body!"   Distracted by his father’s greed, the son hes...