It was late in the day, and golden light danced across the garden wall. I sat under the peach tree, my eyes heavy from the afternoon sun. That’s when I saw it—a butterfly fluttering gently through the air. Its wings moved so softly, like falling petals. I watched as it landed on my hand, resting there as if we had always known each other.
I didn’t know it then, but that moment would guide my thinking for the rest of my life.
My name is Zhuang Zhou. Some know me as Zhuangzi, a thinker and teacher from ancient China. I loved to wander the forests and rivers near my home, thinking about life and nature. I believed in the Tao—the Way of the world—and in living simply and freely, following the flow.
That morning, I had awoken from a strange dream. In it, I was a butterfly, happy and light, flying from flower to flower. I had no worries, no thoughts—just the joy of floating on the wind. But then I opened my eyes and saw my room. I was Zhuangzi again.
I sat up, confused. “Was I a man dreaming I was a butterfly... or am I now a butterfly dreaming I am a man?” I laughed, because I didn’t know the answer. But the question stayed with me.
Later that day, I saw Master Hui, my old friend who loved to ask questions. “You look puzzled,” he said.
“I had a dream,” I told him. “I was a butterfly. But now, I don’t know if I am truly Zhuangzi... or just a butterfly dreaming its time away.”
He smiled but said nothing. So we sat in silence and watched the wind play with the leaves.
For days, I thought about that dream. At first, it made me feel strange—like maybe nothing was real. But then, I thought of the Tao. The Tao teaches that everything is always changing. The seasons change, rivers flow, and even a strong tree bends in the wind. Maybe, I thought, I don’t need to know what is real. Maybe it doesn’t matter if I'm the butterfly or the man. What matters is following the Way—moving gently, not pushing, not forcing.
The butterfly did not try to become anything. It just was. That is Wu Wei—non-action. It means doing without forcing. Letting things happen. Just like water flowing in a stream, or a tree growing toward the sun. The Tao is always there, if we stop trying so hard to control things.
So now, each morning, I walk through the garden and smile at the butterflies. I remember that dream and feel a deep peace.
I didn’t change overnight. But now, when I want to rush or worry or fix everything, I remember the butterfly. I breathe, wait, and let the world unfold.
Who am I? Maybe a man. Maybe a butterfly. Or perhaps just part of the Way—softly floating through the great dream of life.
It was late in the day, and golden light danced across the garden wall. I sat under the peach tree, my eyes heavy from the afternoon sun. That’s when I saw it—a butterfly fluttering gently through the air. Its wings moved so softly, like falling petals. I watched as it landed on my hand, resting there as if we had always known each other.
I didn’t know it then, but that moment would guide my thinking for the rest of my life.
My name is Zhuang Zhou. Some know me as Zhuangzi, a thinker and teacher from ancient China. I loved to wander the forests and rivers near my home, thinking about life and nature. I believed in the Tao—the Way of the world—and in living simply and freely, following the flow.
That morning, I had awoken from a strange dream. In it, I was a butterfly, happy and light, flying from flower to flower. I had no worries, no thoughts—just the joy of floating on the wind. But then I opened my eyes and saw my room. I was Zhuangzi again.
I sat up, confused. “Was I a man dreaming I was a butterfly... or am I now a butterfly dreaming I am a man?” I laughed, because I didn’t know the answer. But the question stayed with me.
Later that day, I saw Master Hui, my old friend who loved to ask questions. “You look puzzled,” he said.
“I had a dream,” I told him. “I was a butterfly. But now, I don’t know if I am truly Zhuangzi... or just a butterfly dreaming its time away.”
He smiled but said nothing. So we sat in silence and watched the wind play with the leaves.
For days, I thought about that dream. At first, it made me feel strange—like maybe nothing was real. But then, I thought of the Tao. The Tao teaches that everything is always changing. The seasons change, rivers flow, and even a strong tree bends in the wind. Maybe, I thought, I don’t need to know what is real. Maybe it doesn’t matter if I'm the butterfly or the man. What matters is following the Way—moving gently, not pushing, not forcing.
The butterfly did not try to become anything. It just was. That is Wu Wei—non-action. It means doing without forcing. Letting things happen. Just like water flowing in a stream, or a tree growing toward the sun. The Tao is always there, if we stop trying so hard to control things.
So now, each morning, I walk through the garden and smile at the butterflies. I remember that dream and feel a deep peace.
I didn’t change overnight. But now, when I want to rush or worry or fix everything, I remember the butterfly. I breathe, wait, and let the world unfold.
Who am I? Maybe a man. Maybe a butterfly. Or perhaps just part of the Way—softly floating through the great dream of life.
