I had always believed that trying harder was the key to everything. My name is Ping, and I was only twelve the summer I met Master Fei in the garden of floating dreams.
I had been working hard every day—studying, practicing sword forms, even trying to write poems like the great sages. But nothing ever felt good enough. I grew more frustrated each morning as I watched my younger brother laugh and play beside the pond, doing nothing at all.
“That’s lazy,” I often muttered. “If he doesn’t try, he’ll never be great.”
One day, I stormed off alone, the weight of all my efforts sinking in my chest. I walked through the forest and into the garden of floating dreams, where the great Master Fei was said to sit for hours doing... well, nothing.
He was there, just as the village children whispered—leaning peacefully against a tree, eyes half closed, a butterfly resting on his sleeve.
I bowed clumsily. “Master Fei, I came to learn something great.”
He gave a soft smile. “What is it you wish to learn?”
“How to master life,” I said quickly. “Like the classic heroes. I want to become wise, strong, and praised by all.”
He said nothing. Just looked up at the butterfly.
“So?” I asked impatiently. “What should I do?”
“Have you ever dreamed you were a butterfly?” he asked.
I blinked. “No... I dream of climbing high mountains and winning battles.”
“Once,” he said, “I dreamed I was a butterfly, floating gently on the wind. When I woke up, I wondered—am I Ping, who spoke with the butterfly, or the butterfly, now dreaming he is Ping?”
I didn’t understand. “Master Fei, I came here for real advice. I’m trying so hard, but someone like my brother—he just plays and laughs, and yet he looks happier than I ever feel.”
Master Fei stood up slowly and walked to the pond. He picked up a dry leaf and let it go. It landed on the water and drifted across, smooth and light, carried by the soft breeze.
“You try, and so you stir the water around you,” he said. “Your brother does not try—but he does not fight the Tao. Like the leaf, he is one with the flow. Sometimes, freedom comes not from doing more... but from doing less.”
I sat beside him, watching the leaf float away. I didn’t say anything, but something settled inside me like a pebble finding its place in a stream.
That evening, I didn’t rush to train or finish my readings. I sat with my brother instead, listening to the crickets and laughing for no reason at all.
I didn’t change overnight. But I began to let go—bit by bit—and something beautiful started to bloom inside me. A feeling of peace, like being a butterfly, floating just where the wind leads.
Now, whenever I feel lost or unsure, I remember the garden, the old sage, and the butterfly’s dream. And I remind myself that the Way doesn’t need to be forced. It simply is.
I had always believed that trying harder was the key to everything. My name is Ping, and I was only twelve the summer I met Master Fei in the garden of floating dreams.
I had been working hard every day—studying, practicing sword forms, even trying to write poems like the great sages. But nothing ever felt good enough. I grew more frustrated each morning as I watched my younger brother laugh and play beside the pond, doing nothing at all.
“That’s lazy,” I often muttered. “If he doesn’t try, he’ll never be great.”
One day, I stormed off alone, the weight of all my efforts sinking in my chest. I walked through the forest and into the garden of floating dreams, where the great Master Fei was said to sit for hours doing... well, nothing.
He was there, just as the village children whispered—leaning peacefully against a tree, eyes half closed, a butterfly resting on his sleeve.
I bowed clumsily. “Master Fei, I came to learn something great.”
He gave a soft smile. “What is it you wish to learn?”
“How to master life,” I said quickly. “Like the classic heroes. I want to become wise, strong, and praised by all.”
He said nothing. Just looked up at the butterfly.
“So?” I asked impatiently. “What should I do?”
“Have you ever dreamed you were a butterfly?” he asked.
I blinked. “No... I dream of climbing high mountains and winning battles.”
“Once,” he said, “I dreamed I was a butterfly, floating gently on the wind. When I woke up, I wondered—am I Ping, who spoke with the butterfly, or the butterfly, now dreaming he is Ping?”
I didn’t understand. “Master Fei, I came here for real advice. I’m trying so hard, but someone like my brother—he just plays and laughs, and yet he looks happier than I ever feel.”
Master Fei stood up slowly and walked to the pond. He picked up a dry leaf and let it go. It landed on the water and drifted across, smooth and light, carried by the soft breeze.
“You try, and so you stir the water around you,” he said. “Your brother does not try—but he does not fight the Tao. Like the leaf, he is one with the flow. Sometimes, freedom comes not from doing more... but from doing less.”
I sat beside him, watching the leaf float away. I didn’t say anything, but something settled inside me like a pebble finding its place in a stream.
That evening, I didn’t rush to train or finish my readings. I sat with my brother instead, listening to the crickets and laughing for no reason at all.
I didn’t change overnight. But I began to let go—bit by bit—and something beautiful started to bloom inside me. A feeling of peace, like being a butterfly, floating just where the wind leads.
Now, whenever I feel lost or unsure, I remember the garden, the old sage, and the butterfly’s dream. And I remind myself that the Way doesn’t need to be forced. It simply is.
