The Joy of the Fish — 魚之樂 (Yú zhī Lè)

Zhuāngzǐ (莊子) and Huìzǐ (惠子) were once walking together across the bridge over the Hào River (濠水, Hào shuǐ).

Zhuāngzǐ stopped and looked into the clear water.

“Look how joyfully the fish leap about in the water—that is the joy of the fish,” he said.

Huìzǐ frowned. “You are not a fish, Zhuāngzǐ. How can you know what the joy of the fish is?”

Zhuāngzǐ smiled. “And you are not me, Huìzǐ. How can you know that I do not know?”

Huìzǐ was silent for a moment, then said: “You are not fish—therefore you cannot know it.”

Zhuāngzǐ replied calmly:

“When the mind is free like the river, it knows the joy of the fish, because it is no longer separate from it.”

They stood there in silence for a while.

Then Zhuāngzǐ spoke softly:

“I knew it from here—from above the Hào River.”