Can Skill Lead to Self-Transcendence in Zhuangzi?

Abstract

Many scholars have claimed that the skills depicted by Zhuangzi can lead to self-transcendence of experiencing and attaining the Dao. However, this view is open to question. Based on a comprehensive reading of the received text of Zhuangzi, this paper attempts a comprehensive reinterpretation of its allegories of skills, including “Cook Ding Butchering an Ox”, “The Hunchback Catching Cicadas”, “The Ferryman Handling a Boat”, “The Man of Lüliang Swimming in the Torrent”, “Woodworker Qing Carving a Bell Stand”, “Artisan Chui Drawing Circles with His Fingers”, “Wheelwright Bian Chiseling Wheels”, “Bohun Wuren Demonstrating Archery”, and “The Old Metalworker Forging Weapons”. This study argues that the emphasis of these skill allegories is not on extolling skills but on pointing towards self-transcendence in a metaphorical way. Just as Mark Twain once likened an apple peel to the Mississippi River, the depiction of skilled performance and its contexts primarily serves as a vivid and illustrative vehicle for explaining self-transcendence rather than constituting self-transcendence itself. Logically speaking, exercising skills requires intentionality, whereas self-transcendence in Zhuangzi’s sense demands complete forgetfulness and a state of non-attachment. Since the states of intentionality and non-attachment are contradictory, the former does not necessarily enable the latter. Thus, the skill in Zhuangzi cannot directly lead to self-transcendence. The skill allegories in Zhuangzi represent the authors’ subjective elaborations, rooted in the focus and tacit understanding inherent in skill activities, and should not be interpreted in an overly mystical light.

1. Introduction

Religious and wisdom traditions have long taught that self-transcendence is a basic principle of the good life (Frey and Vogler 2019, p. 2). Many traditions have proposed their own approaches to self-transcendence along with specific paths for its realization. In ancient China, Zhuangzi offered a pathway centered on experiencing and attaining the Dao. Scholars have made various summaries and interpretations of Zhuangzi’s methods for realizing the Dao, one of which—through the use of skills—may be problematic. This paper seeks to investigate whether the skills depicted in Zhuangzi can truly lead to self-transcendence. Before delving into this inquiry, it is essential to review the perspectives of previous scholars.

In recent years, many studies on Zhuangzi’s philosophy of skill have incorporated the notion of “entering the Dao through skill” (you ji ru dao 由技入道), positing that skills can lead to self-transcendence. Cheng Jun argues: “We can see that, despite engaging in different types of skills, these artisans all pursue the unity of skill and the Dao in their skill practices, aiming to achieve artistic and aesthetically transcendent values through their skill activities” (Cheng 2020, p. 152). Jing Jing and Han Pengjie contend: “Zhuangzi himself repeatedly explored the Dao through ‘skill.’ Understanding and experiencing the Dao was an important purpose of his reflections on skills… He views ‘skill’ as a mediator connecting the Dao (heaven and nature) and ‘tools’ (human action and practice), giving it the unique quality of bridging the two” (Jing and Han 2021, p. 55). Hou Yude states: “Among the various paths leading to the Dao, one minor path is ‘entering the Dao through skill.’ Zhuangzi clearly outlines the procedural steps of this journey and, through multiple examples, reveals the significant transformations experienced by those who follow it… The successful realization of this process is marked by the deep internalization of skill into instinct or implicit memory, along with a profound enlightenment about the world and life, ultimately leading to the sublimation of human nature” (Hou 2022, p. 132). Shi Lin asserts: “Figures such as Cook Ding, Ji Shengzi, the hunchback, the ferryman, the Lüliang swimmer, and Bohun Wuren in daily life; Blacksmith Daye, Wheelwright Bian, Woodworker Qing, Artisan Chui, Beigong She, and Forger Dama in handicraft production; and painters, emperors, and Lord Ren in artistic creation appear to live ordinary lives. Yet, they are enlightened practitioners who attain the Dao through their routines—saintly artisans and sages of the Dao. Alternatively, they are not mere mortals but ‘Perfected Beings’ (zhiren 至人) or ‘True Beings’ (zhenren 真人) who transcend utilitarian motives in their skill activities, achieving freedom in skill and ultimately embodying, realizing, and attaining the Dao” (Shi 2022, p. 39). Lu Min and Peng Bisheng argue: “Zhuangzi posits that the ultimate state of skill is ‘approaching the Dao’, (进乎于道) and achieving this requires perceiving and practicing the Dao within skills. This is also the core theme of parables such as Cook Ding butchering an ox… Zhuangzi views skill as a pathway to understanding and attaining the Dao” (Lu and Peng 2023, p. 110). Gai Fei maintains: “The essential difference between ‘Zhuangzi’s skill’, which is capable of reaching the realm of Dao, and ordinary skills and arts is not found in the kind or level of abilities, nor in the tools required to do the skills, but rather in the self-knowledge of the ‘skill’” (Gai 2023, p. 1).

Moreover, if we trace earlier scholarship, we find that many researchers of Zhuangzi have upheld the notion of “entering the Dao through skill”. Given the large number of scholars who support this view, only a few representative figures can be highlighted here. Pang Pu, in his interpretation of “Cook Ding Butchering an Ox”, articulates his understanding of Zhuangzi’s perspective on skill. Although he does not explicitly use the term “entering the Dao through skill”, he distinguishes Cook Ding from ordinary cooks (zu pao 族庖) and expert cooks (liang pao 良庖), describing him as a “Dao Cook” (dao pao 道庖). He further proposes that “Cook Ding compares skill with the Dao, as though there exists a sequential relationship between skill and the Dao that is not insurmountable”. Ultimately, he even refers to Cook Ding as “Zen Master Cook Ding”. This suggests that Pang believes Cook Ding had attained the Dao, implicitly endorsing the idea that skill can lead to the Dao (Pang 1994, pp. 11–20). Chris Jochim, building on A.C. Graham’s study, also tends to view “all these figures are heroes for Master Zhuang” (Jochim 1998, p. 60), possessing mystical experiences. Here, “all these figures” refers to skill practitioners such as Cook Ding, Woodworker Qing, and the Hunchback. From this perspective, A.C. Graham and Chris Jochim can also be seen as proponents of entering the Dao through skill. Li Zhuangying explicitly advocates “entering the Dao through skill”, and further proposes that the Dao has a transformative effect on skill. He states: “‘Skill’ advances toward ‘Dao’ not only in terms of the depth of the operator’s understanding of natural patterns but also in terms of the spiritual state of the practitioner. In Zhuangzi, those who attain the Dao exhibit extraordinary technical mastery precisely because their minds have reached a state of self-forgetfulness” (Li 2003, p. 69). Yang Guorong, in his examination of the “debate on Heaven and Man” (Tian ren zhi bian 天人之辩) in Zhuangzi, notes that “advancing from ‘skill’ to the Dao ultimately signifies an elevation from the deliberate ‘artifice’ of human effort to an existential state aligned with the Dao of nature (tian 天). In other words, it signifies a movement from ‘human’ to ‘Heaven’” (Yang 2005, p. 25). This shows that he agreed with the idea of “entering the Dao through skill”. Wang Qian expresses the idea of “entering the Dao through skill” unequivocally: “The Dao transcends ‘skill’, and it is the ideal state of ‘skill’… Zhuangzi contains numerous vivid allegories, such as wheelwright Bian chiseling wheels, the hunchback catching cicadas, the mason wielding an axe, and the ferryman handling a boat. All of these exemplify skills attuned to the Dao” (Wang 2006, p. 13). Yang Rur-bin not only explicitly endorses the idea of “entering the Dao through skill” but also provides a theoretical explanation for it: “In butchering an ox, it is not Cook Ding who performs the act, but an unnamed subject driving the motion of his entire body; in archery, it is not Bohun Wuren who shoots, but an unnamed subject within his body; in crafting pottery, it is not Artisan Chui who works, but an unnamed subject; in driving a chariot, it is not Zaofu who drives, but an unnamed subject integrating his hands, feet, reins, and bit into a unified whole. In short, the creator of perfect skill is not conscious intent but the body itself. Only when consciousness permeates the entire body, spiritualizing it, can skill achieve a qualitative leap, ascending from mere craft to the manifestation of the Dao” (Yang 2007, p. 260). Chen Guying, in his analysis of the Inner Chapters’ philosophy of mind, directly proposes “entering the Dao through skill”: “The doctrine of manifesting the Dao through skill appears repeatedly in Zhuangzi. For example, the allegories of the hunchback catching cicadas, the ferryman handling a boat, woodworker Qing carving a bell stand, and the old metalworker forging weapons in Knowinghood Journeyed North all advocate the philosophical idea of ‘attaining the Dao through skill’” (Chen 2009, p. 33). He further asserts that “entering the Dao through skill” is a Daoist path from practice (gongfu 工夫) to spiritual realization (jingjie 境界). Chen Yun, in his interpretation of Cook Ding’s story, also expresses support for “entering the Dao through skill” and emphasizes the Dao’s reverse nurturing on skill: “The essence of Cook Ding’s ox-butchering lies in moving from ‘skill’ to ‘Dao’ and using the Dao to refine ‘skill’”. “Cook Ding’s butchering, when viewed from a lower perspective, is also a transition from skill to the Dao. Yet, he claims his true passion is the ‘Dao,’ which ‘advances beyond skill’ (jin hu ji 进乎技); thus, while his butchering moves from ‘skill’ to ‘Dao,’ it also encompasses the Dao’s nurturing effect, supporting and enhancing skill” (Chen 2012c, pp. 117–19). Jin Huimin has her own interpretation of the Dao but still supports “entering the Dao through skill”: “This ‘advancing beyond skill’ transcends the epistemological dimension of skill, thereby attaining the true essence of the Dao. From a human perspective, the Dao manifests as an undifferentiated, holistic perception—analogous to the ‘chaotic’ (hundun 混沌) state of the Emperor of the Center—where the entire sensory system apprehends the world as a unified whole” (Jin 2015, pp. 59–60). Chen Shaoming, while not explicitly stating “entering the Dao through skill”, considers Cook Ding an enlightened figure, thereby implicitly endorsing the idea. He writes: “In the story of Cook Ding, skills, metaphysics, and the meaning of life form a trinity. The Dao that Cook Ding cherishes is the very path of existential vitality” (Chen 2016, p. 61). Yang Lihua, in his Studies on Zhuangzi’s Philosophy, addresses skill-related issues: “Zhuangzi did not tell us how to transcend the level of skill and reach the Dao. From this, we can infer: first, the progression from ‘skill’ to ‘Dao’ involves an ineffable, intuitive element beyond articulation; second, as previously noted, the realm of the Perfected Being is not attainable by all. Cook Ding’s ox-butchering exemplifies the highest form of practical application” (Yang 2020, p. 147). Though his phrasing is somewhat vague, it still indicates agreement with “entering the Dao through skill”. He also notes the Dao’s positive influence on skill: “The preservation of the knife and bodily form is merely a by-product of authentic existence” (Yang 2020, p. 148).

Deng Lianhe has devoted over two decades to the study of Zhuangzi’s perspective on skill, establishing himself as a prominent expert in this field. He has offered a detailed analysis of the relationship between skill and Dao in Zhuangzi’s thought, incorporating some notably radical interpretations. On the one hand, Deng is a firm advocate of the idea that one can enter the Dao through skill, and he further elaborates on the progressive stages within this process. First, he explicitly identifies the skilled artisans in Zhuangzi as individuals who have attained the Dao, presenting them as seekers or achievers of the Dao (Deng 2002, p. 74, 2008, p. 61). Second, he argues that these artisans pursue skill not for livelihood but for the Dao, with their spiritual state, rather than technical prowess, being their primary focus and ultimate goal (Deng 2008, p. 61). Finally, he goes further, asserting that the purpose of these artisans’ skillful practice is to manifest the Dao, projecting their inner spiritual state outward (Deng 2002, p. 75, 2008, p. 61). On the other hand, Deng elaborates on the role of the Dao in skill. Primarily, he asserts that the Dao significantly enhances and drives skill, with the extraordinary effects of technical practice stemming not from the artisan’s mastery but from the mysterious, autonomous action of the Dao (Deng 2002, p. 74, 2008, p. 62). Furthermore, he even contends that the Dao is the sole determinant of skill’s efficacy, with technical outcomes hinging on the practitioner’s spiritual state; as long as the practitioner achieves a state of singular focus, their practice yields astonishing results (Deng 2008, pp. 60–61). Overall, Deng’s core conclusion can be distilled into a single statement: “In sum, regarding the relationship between the Dao and skill, Zhuangzi’s idea is that the Dao and skill are mutually accessible; thus, those with extraordinary skills must have attained the Dao, and those who have attained the Dao must possess extraordinary skills” (Deng 2016, p. 80). Analysis reveals that, regardless of how thoroughly or mystically Deng interprets the skill-Dao relationship in Zhuangzi, the notion of “entering the Dao through skill” serves as the linchpin. Without this central premise, his earlier claims—such as skilled practitioners being seekers, attainers, or revealers of the Dao—would lack foundation.

It is evident that the idea of entering the Dao through skill and achieving self-transcendence in Zhuangzi’s sense is a widely shared assertion among scholars. Detailing their perspectives individually aims to demonstrate how prevalent and influential this claim is—to the extent that it is verging on becoming an academic consensus. By contrast, dissenting voices are notably subdued or even difficult to identify clearly.

Yet, concerning Zhuangzi’s paradigmatic skill allegory, “Cook Ding Butchering an Ox”, Guo Xiang, an early commentator on Zhuangzi from the Western Jin period in Chinese history, offered this assessment: “It merely conveys principles through skill; what is truly valued is not the technique skill” (直寄道理于技耳, 所好者非技也). His interpretation suggests that the story of Cook Ding serves to convey a philosophical principle, with the emphasis lying not on the skill itself. This view diverges from the previous interpretations that posit Cook Ding as entering the Dao through skill, revealing a lack of complete alignment. Starting from this line of thought, this paper re-examines the relationship between skill and self-transcendence and attempts to challenge the commonly held assertions of the aforementioned scholars.

Below, I will first define three keywords: Zhuangzi, skill, and self-transcendence. In the process of clarifying these terms, I will also outline the analytical strategy and assumptions to be employed. This section is crucial, forming the groundwork for the discussion that follows. Subsequently, I will argue from two perspectives that skill in Zhuangzi does not necessarily directly facilitate self-transcendence. The first argument is that Zhuangzi’s skill allegories are metaphorical in nature. The exercise of skill and its context are primarily employed to vividly illustrate self-transcendence rather than being a manifestation of it. The second argument is that skill requires intentionality and focus, while self-transcendence in Zhuangzi’s sense requires a complete forgetting and ultimately a state of non-attachment. These two states are distinct, and the former does not inherently lead to the latter.

2. Key Concepts, Basic Strategies, and Assumptions

2.1. On Zhuangzi

In Zhuangzi studies, a common approach is to narrate using the phrase “Zhuangzi says…” as though the entire text of Zhuangzi were written by Zhuang Zhou himself or as if all its ideas directly reflect his personal thought. Another prevalent approach is to treat the Inner Chapters of Zhuangzi as the primary focus of inquiry, since they are widely believed to have been authored by Zhuangzi himself and are thus considered to more authentically represent his viewpoints.

This paper does not adopt either of these approaches but instead focuses on the text of Zhuangzi. Specifically, it uses the term “Zhuangzi” when narrating and treats the Inner Chapters, Outer Chapters, and Miscellaneous Chapters equally, as well as the 33 chapters of the received version of Zhuangzi, equally. This approach is guided by the specific research question at hand. Among the texts directly related to skill, only Cook Ding’s story comes from the Inner Chapters, while the majority are found in the Outer and Miscellaneous Chapters. If the study were confined only to the Inner Chapters, the issues this paper aims to explore would be insufficiently addressed. However, fundamentally, the decision to focus on the entire received version of Zhuangzi is not a forced accommodation to the research questions. Rather, because there is no widespread and consistent consensus on the authorship, dating, or the ideas represented in each chapter. Moreover, although there are some inconsistencies in detail among the 33 chapters of the received version, they still exhibit an overall internal connection and can be regarded as a unified textual and ideological whole.

Yang Guorong offers a cogent scholarly rationale for this: “From the perspective of the evolution of philosophical thought, a more fundamental fact is that Zhuangzi’s profound historical influence was realized primarily through the book Zhuangzi. Although the specific number and arrangement of its chapters have undergone changes, Zhuangzi has consistently functioned as the symbolic representation of Zhuangzi’s thought and has been intrinsically embedded in and shaped the course of intellectual history. In other words, while determining the authorship and dating of each chapter certainly requires scholarly examination and re-examination, the connection between Zhuangzi the text and Zhuangzi the person, the historical existence of the book Zhuangzi, and its role as an original philosophical system that has significantly influenced the development of thought are beyond doubt. In light of this, the question of the specific attribution of individual chapters, which remains difficult to resolve definitively, is temporarily set aside in favor of treating Zhuangzi as a historical text in its entirety as the primary object of study” (Yang 2006, p. 38). I agree with his reasoning: what is difficult to determine definitively should be temporarily set aside, and we should begin with the fundamental facts. The most basic fact is the existence of a historical text titled Zhuangzi before us. Prior to Yang, scholars like Cui Dahua similarly regarded Zhuangzi as a unified intellectual system, eschewing scrutiny of chapter divisions (Cui 1986, p. 30). On this matter, I align with their strategy and adopt the same approach.

Once the focus shifts to the entirety of Zhuangzi, attention naturally turns to what the text expresses as a whole. Han Linhe, drawing on his insights from studying Zhuangzi’s philosophy, proposes the principle of systematicity for interpreting philosophical classics, stating: “After determining that the entire text of a philosophical classic is the object of interpretation, the next question to consider is naturally whether it provides people with a relatively complete and rigorous theoretical system” (Han 2014, p. 464). For Zhuangzi, the answer may well be affirmative. Comprising 33 chapters and over 80,000 Chinese characters, Zhuangzi—despite its intricate details and digressions—presents, to a significant degree, a unified overarching theme as a whole. A comprehensive analysis is beyond the scope here; we can rely on prior scholars’ summaries: Zhuangzi generally addresses human existence, aiming to articulate a particular state of being and resolve questions of life’s meaning. But the authoritative Zhuangzi scholar, Chen Guying, has also said: “For Zhuangzi, the ‘Dao’ represents the highest state of life that one can attain, and the highest state of life is called the state of ‘Dao’” (Chen 1992, p. 199). This suggests that the state of life provided by Zhuangzi revolves around the pursuit and attainment of the Dao, which can be referred to as experiencing the Dao (体道) and attaining the Dao (得道). The former emphasizes the process of pursuit, while the latter refers to the result of attainment.

2.2. Allegories of Skill and Their Interpretative Approaches

To examine whether skill in Zhuangzi can lead to self-transcendence, the initial focus must be on texts within Zhuangzi that directly pertain to skill. These texts predominantly take the form of allegories, which may be termed Zhuangzi’s allegories of skill. When approaching Zhuangzi as a cohesive whole without differentiating its sections, approximately 10 allegories emerge as the direct objects of this study. Specifically, these are as follows:

• “Cook Ding Butchering an Ox” (Inner Chapters—The Primacy of Nourishing Life).
• “The Old Man of Hanyin Watering His Vegetable Garden” (Outer Chapters—Heaven and Earth).
• “Wheelwright Bian Chiseling Wheels” (Outer Chapters—Heaven’s Course).
• “The Hunchback Catching Cicadas”, “The Ferryman Handling a Boat”, “The Man of Lüliang Swimming in the Torrent”, “Woodworker Qing Carving a Bell Stand”, and “Artisan Chui Drawing Circles with His Fingers” (Outer Chapters—Fathoming Life).
• “Bohun Wuren Demonstrating Archery” (Outer Chapters—Sir Squarescope of the Fields).
• “The Old Metalworker Forging Weapons” (Outer Chapters—Knowinghood Journeyed North).

Other stories, such as “Dongye Ji Driving a Chariot”, “Ji Shengzi Training Fighting cocks”, “A Man Fishing”, “The Artisan Painter”, and “Master Carpenter Shi Wielding His Axe”, though ostensibly linked to skill, are not pertinent to the research question at hand. Due to space limitations, the detailed contents of these allegories will not be enumerated here, as they are readily accessible in any edition of Zhuangzi.

After determining the research object, the more critical concern becomes the method of interpretation. Han Linhe, in his proposed principles for interpreting philosophical classics, prioritizes the principle of completeness, which he articulates as follows: “When engaging with a philosophical classic, if we are only interested in certain passages, the interpretation might seem easier. Yet, this is not entirely the case. The meaning of a part of the text is largely determined by the meaning of the whole text. Thus, without a good grasp of the meaning of the whole text, it is difficult to truly understand the meaning of a part of it. Therefore, when facing a philosophical classic, we must first have a comprehensive understanding of the overall intent of the text, no matter what” (Han 2014, pp. 458–59). This principle indicates that interpretations cannot isolate portions of a text but must ground the understanding of parts in the context of the whole. While primarily intended for interpreting an entire philosophical classic, this principle also serves as a valuable guide for analyzing specific issues within such a work. Applied to the interpretation of Zhuangzi’s allegories of skill, it manifests in the following two key ways:

On one hand, Zhuangzi’s allegories of skill require a holistic interpretation. Many studies concentrate on a single allegory—most frequently “Cook Ding Butchering an Ox”—to extrapolate broader conclusions about Zhuangzi’s views on skill. Others extend their scope to a subset of Zhuangzi’s skill allegories, neglecting the rest. These approaches isolate portions of the text for analysis. Even if they yield profound insights, they may lack explanatory power when applied to other related passages, thus failing to achieve comprehensiveness. It is necessary to give each allegory adequate attention on this basis and strive to develop an integrated interpretation applicable to all the allegories of skill. Admittedly, these allegories do not necessarily point to identical ideas, nor are they entirely consistent with one another. Nevertheless, striving for such an integrated interpretation remains essential to minimize the risk of overgeneralization from a partial perspective.

On the other hand, the interpretation of Zhuangzi’s allegories of skill must be anchored in the entire text of Zhuangzi. The relationship between the whole and the part is relative. While the complete set of skill allegories constitutes a whole relative to any single one or a few, it remains a mere part when viewed against the full text of Zhuangzi. Limiting focus to the totality of the allegories is insufficient, as it risks decontextualization or interpretations that diverge excessively, unconstrained by the broader text, leading to significant distortions. This necessitates expanding the interpretive scope to encompass the entire Zhuangzi as the basis for understanding the allegories of skill. In doing so, it naturally employs the overarching theme presented by the overall Zhuangzi will be used to evaluate these allegories.

2.3. Self-Transcendence in Zhuangzi

Many religious and wisdom traditions offer their own models of self-transcendence along with concrete paths for realization, aimed at enabling individuals to attain a better way of life. Concerning self-transcendence, Gao Shan offers a lucid summary of its underlying paradigm: “(1) The self we experience in everyday life is usually the false self or narrow self, which is motivated by the pursuit of external good such as wealth, fame, or health. (2) There is a true self that is related to ultimate reality, but we tend to ignore it. (3) We need to cultivate moral power to transcend the false self and achieve the authentic self” (Gao 2023, p. 3). In Zhuangzi, pursuits such as fame, power, wealth, knowledge, and even virtue are even regarded as manifestations of the false self, whereas the Dao represents ultimate reality. Through experiencing the Dao and attaining the Dao, one can transcend the false self and achieve the authentic self. It can thus be said that Zhuangzi’s framework of experiencing the Dao and attaining the Dao is distinctly characterized by a departure from the false self and an arrival at the true self, constituting a quintessential model of self-transcendence. This may be aptly described as self-transcendence in the form of experiencing and attaining the Dao.

So, do terms corresponding to “self” and “self-transcendence” exist in Zhuangzi? Scholars generally equate the terms ji (己) and wo (我) in Zhuangzi with the modern concept of the “self”, often using “self” to translate and annotate them. Accordingly, “self-transcendence” in Zhuangzi is often associated with terms like wuji (无己) and sangwo (丧我). This overall approach is acceptable, but there are subtle limitations. Chris Jochim, in his article Just Say No to “No Self” in Zhuangzi, strongly emphasizes that the modern Western concept of the “self” is culturally specific and lacks enough universal relevance. Therefore, directly mapping this concept onto ji or wo in Zhuangzi may lead to misinterpretations of the text (Jochim 1998, pp. 35–46). Similarly, Wu Zhongwei, in his book The Heart of Alliance: “Ji” and Early Chinese Philosophy, cautiously aligns ji with the “self” and offers a particularly detailed analysis of their meanings (Wu 2014, p. 42). Therefore, this paper does not adopt a rigid one-to-one mapping between “self-transcendence” and specific terms in Zhuangzi. Instead, building on Gao Shan’s definition, it treats self-transcendence as a term referring to phenomena that represent the transformation from a false-self state to a true-self state. Self-transcendence is like the finger pointing to the moon in Buddhism: the focus should be on the moon it points to, not the finger itself. The advantage of this approach is twofold. On one hand, it allows us to transcend the confines of specific concepts and more authentically search for expressions of self-transcendence across different cultural and conceptual systems. In the case of Zhuangzi, this means that self-transcendence is not limited to wuji or sangwo but also broadly corresponds to concepts like experiencing the Dao and attaining the Dao, which are central to the study’s main philosophical themes. On the other hand, this approach allows greater integration with and continuation of existing scholarly studies. For example, although Eske Mollgaard does not explicitly discuss the concept of “self-transcendence” in his studies on Zhuangzi, in my view, his discussion of “the experience of transcendental life” (Møllgaard 2005, pp. 1–18) closely parallels the notion of self-transcendence. His insights can therefore serve as a valuable reference.

Thus, to clarify what exactly self-transcendence means in Zhuangzi, it is necessary to further define the concepts of experiencing the Dao and attaining the Dao. The core concepts in Zhuangzi, such as “free and easy wandering” (xiaoyao 逍遥), “non-dependence” (wudai 无待), “equalizing things” (qiwu 齐物), “fasting of the mind” (xinzhai 心斋), “naturally forgetting” (zuowang 坐忘), and “non-action” (wuwei 无为), can all be seen as responses to this question, offering insight into how one experiences Dao and what the state of attaining Dao entails. Over time, Zhuangzi scholars have provided diverse interpretations from their respective vantage points, but due to space constraints, these cannot be exhaustively listed or analyzed here. Since any definition is inevitably incomplete, highlighting some aspects of the process of experiencing the Dao and the state of attaining the Dao while obscuring others, this paper opts for a concise definitional approach to provide readers with a direct grasp of experience and attainment of the Dao. The most succinct definition employs minimal terms, and I begin with “forgetting” (wang 忘).

Regarding forgetting, both Chen (2012b, pp. 46–47) and Wu and Huang (2017, p. 44) have independently delineated four levels of meaning based on the text of Zhuangzi. Their classifications are broadly congruent, and this paper adopts the latter’s formulation: “Forgetting material possessions, fame, and honor (忘物, 忘利, 忘名, 外生, 外物, 遗万物, 不敢怀庆赏爵禄, 非誉巧拙); forgetting right and wrong, values, and moral consciousness (忘是非, 忘仁义, 忘礼乐, 外天下); forgetting the perceptual or sensory organism, as well as forms of knowledge and cognitive activities (忘肝胆, 遗耳目, 堕肢体, 黜聪明, 离形去知, 忘知, 忘言, 忘年, 无古今); finally, forgetting the self and becoming one with the Dao (忘己, 无己, 忘心, 丧我)” (Wu and Huang 2017, p. 44). This schema allows forgetting to substantially enrich the connotations of experiencing and attaining the Dao. Progressively practicing different levels of forgetting is the process of experiencing the Dao, and ultimately achieving complete forgetting is attaining the Dao. Many core concepts in Zhuangzi, such as equalizing things, fasting of the mind, naturally forgetting, and non-dependence, can be viewed as near-synonymous expressions of forgetting or even as being interconnected by it.

Using “forgetting” to define the experience and attainment of the Dao still has its shortcomings, as it cannot fully capture the existential state of those who have attained the Dao. To address this, I propose supplementing it with “wandering” (you 游). Originally denoting drifting with the wind or floating on water, “wandering” extends to signify a state of being unbound and carefree. Wandering represents the attitude and approach of those who have attained the Dao in their engagement with the world. It manifests both as transcending the mundane and not being burdened by worldly affairs (游乎四海之外, 芒然彷徨乎尘垢之外, 游方之外, 游于六合之外, 游无何有之乡; 游世俗之间, 游于世而不僻) and as being content with whatever circumstances one encounters, maintaining a calm and self-satisfied inner state in the face of the present world. Crucially, wandering entails not seeking to possess the external world. Core concepts in Zhuangzi that forgetting does not fully encompass—such as carefree wandering and non-action—can be regarded as either near-synonymous with or related to wandering. By anchoring the definition in forgetting and complementing it with wandering, we can form a general understanding of the experience and attainment of the Dao.

In this regard, Chen’s (2012a, p. 5) summary of Zhuangzi is highly worth referencing: “The ideal person in Zhuangzi does nothing, does not seek worldly fame, does not pursue the achievements of sages, does not adhere to any doctrine, nor does he avoid harm or suffering. Life and death, the world, and all things have already been ‘forgotten.’ He merely lets his mind wander in the realm of ‘chaos and obscurity’ (hunmang 混芒) that he longs for”. Chen Lai may not admire Zhuangzi, employing a slightly pejorative tone. Yet, by setting aside his evaluative stance, we can distill factual elements from his description for reference. Most of his depiction aligns with various facets of forgetting, ultimately culminating in the forgetting of all things, and the last part describes the existential state of wandering. In this sense, Chen might actually endorse defining experiencing Dao and attaining Dao through forgetting and wandering.

To briefly summarize self-transcendence in Zhuangzi, it begins with forgetting material things, progressively achieves different levels of forgetting to let go of everything, and ultimately exists in the world in a state of wandering.

3. The Metaphorical Nature of Zhuangzi’s Allegories of Skill

What do Zhuangzi’s allegories of skill convey? One of the most striking features of these allegories is their vivid and lively depiction of skills, which can be described as extremely brilliant. For example, in the story of Cook Ding, there is the phrase “inserting a blade with no thickness into the joints with gaps, there is ample room for the blade to move freely and with ease” (以无厚入有间, 恢恢乎其于游刃必有馀地矣); in the story of the Lüliang swimmer, there is “swimming into the water together with the whirlpool and emerging from the surface together with the surging waves” (与齐俱入, 与汨偕出); in the story of the wheelwright Bian, there is “only by being neither too slow nor too fast can one achieve it with the hand and respond with the heart” (不徐不疾, 得之于手而应于心), and so on. These descriptions create an impression that Zhuangzi is highly praising these exceptional skills, suggesting that skill occupies a significant role within the text. This impression intensifies when reading these allegories in isolation without considering the rest of Zhuangzi’s text. However, recognizing that the overarching theme of Zhuangzi is self-transcendence of experiencing and attaining the Dao prompts a reconsideration of this view upon revisiting the allegories. Guo Jimin addresses this issue, noting: “Although Zhuangzi contains many praises for ‘skill,’ such as Cook Ding’s ‘butchering skill,’ Lüliang man’s ‘swimming skill,’ and the cicada-catcher’s ‘sticking skill,’ etc., we must recognize that all of Zhuangzi’s praises for ‘skill’ are not aimed at the skill itself, but at the Dao itself” (Guo and Lu 2012, p. 289). In his view, these allegories superficially celebrate skill while fundamentally gesturing toward the Dao. Zhang Peifu takes this argument even further, stating: “In fact, nowhere in Zhuangzi is there an explicit endorsement of skill. What Zhuangzi praises wholeheartedly is Dao, and everything revolves around it. For him, skill is something dispensable unless it has a connection to Dao” (Zhang and Wang 2004, p. 121). Zhang not only rejects the notion that Zhuangzi praises skill but also diminishes the significant place of skill within the text. Following their reasoning, the focus of these allegories is not on skill but on self-transcendence.

If the skill allegories point to self-transcendence, how does this connection arise? Logically, there are two possible types of relationships between two things: commensurable or incommensurable. Commensurability means that two concepts or entities share the common attributes or essence. For example, centimeters and light-years are both units of length and thus commensurable. Conversely, if two concepts or entities do not share the same attributes or essence, they are incommensurable, like centimeters and “going home”. Of course, from a non-essentialist standpoint, commensurability is not an either-or matter but is typically manifested as a matter of degree. Most prior scholars have tended to view Zhuangzi’s concept of skill as highly commensurable with self-transcendence. They argue that figures like Cook Ding are people who have attained the Dao and that skill can lead to the Dao and that attaining the Dao can enhance skill. Yet, Zhang Peifu’s mention of skill being “dispensable” has led me to ponder whether there might not be a strong commensurability between the two. But if there is not a strong commensurability between skill and self-transcendence, how then do the skill allegories point to self-transcendence?

Many scholars have observed the metaphorical nature of Zhuangzi’s skill allegories. Li Zhuangying explicitly notes: “Zhuangzi often uses masterful skill-based operations as metaphors to illustrate the realm of attaining the Dao”. “Zhuangzi thus employs skill operations to metaphorize the attainment of the Dao” (Li 2003, p. 65). Chen Guying expresses this less distinctly but with evident similarity: “Cook Ding’s story uses the method of butchering an ox to metaphorize the principles of nourishing life and uses those principles to metaphorize the Dao of engaging with the world” (Chen 2009, p. 33). Han Linhe articulates this clearly: “He always describes ‘skill’ in a metaphorical sense, that is, he wants to use this vivid image to illustrate the process of experiencing the Dao” (Han 2014, p. 252). Sellmann explicitly pointed out: “The metaphors of Butcher Ding, the Lüliang rapids swimmer, the Wheelwright Bian, the Woodcarver Qing, the cicada catcher, the naked artist, and so on are used to show the reader a way to engage in free and graceful action in the flow experience” (Sellmann 2019, p. 112). Zhang Zhen also mentions: “Zhuangzi is even more adept at using borrowed words—allegories, random sayings (zhiyan 卮言), weighty words (zhongyan 重言), etc.—to liken ‘attaining the Dao’ to ‘the highest state of craftsmanship in manual labor,’ such as stories of Cook Ding, the Wheelwright Bian, the hunchback, the Woodworker Qing, etc., which are examples of the rhetorical mode of ‘metaphorizing the Dao through skill’” (Zhang 2020, p. 62). These scholars’ expressions have similarities; the skill in Zhuangzi serves as a metaphor for experiencing and attaining the Dao.

A metaphor can establish a weak commensurability between two things. As a rhetorical device, a metaphor illustrates an object’s characteristics by drawing comparisons based on similarities between two distinct entities, enhancing the description’s vividness and imagery. While the subject and metaphorical vehicle share points of resemblance, they may differ fundamentally. Mark Twain famously likened the Mississippi River to “a long, curving apple peel”. The Mississippi River and an apple peel belong to entirely different categories and are incommensurable, yet Twain establishes a connection between them, using the image of an apple peel to vividly illustrate the river’s length and meandering nature. Of course, not all metaphors involve weakly commensurable things. For example, Sellmann suggests that Zhuangzi’s skill allegories are used to metaphorize the flow experience, which seems to have a certain degree of commensurability. Yet, most metaphors resemble Twain’s example, where the subject and vehicle exhibit only weak commensurability. So, Are Zhuangzi’s allegories of skill of this kind?

Zhuangzi’s skill allegories are not as explicitly expressed as Mark Twain’s writings, where one can immediately recognize “apple peel” as a metaphor. Many passages in Zhuangzi are ambiguous and open to interpretation. A critical test for discerning whether these allegories function as metaphors with weak commensurability is whether the text clearly delineates the subject and vehicle while revealing their weak commensurability. In this regard, there are relatively few studies that provide direct insights into this issue. Most scholars cited above have only briefly acknowledged the metaphorical nature of Zhuangzi’s allegories without further analysis, with Han Linhe being an exception.

Wang Bo and Han Linhe have both analyzed the metaphorical framework of Cook Ding’s story. Wang Bo proposes: “What do the cook, the knife, and the ox symbolize in the context of the theme of nurturing life? Simply put, they represent a person, life, and society, respectively” (Wang 2004, p. 52). Han Linhe suggests: “Zhuangzi uses the story of Cook Ding to illustrate the process and state of experiencing the Dao. The ox metaphorically represents the world; the expert and ordinary cooks and their knives represent worldly people, while Cook Ding and his knife represent those who experience the Dao. The knife skills of the expert and ordinary cooks metaphorically represent the way worldly people engage with the world, whereas Cook Ding’s knife skills metaphorically represent the way Dao-experiencing individuals engage with the world” (Han 2006, p. 194). Han’s analysis is more granular, yet both scholars converge on a core idea: Cook Ding metaphorically represents an individual who has attained self-transcendence, while the knife and the skill of wielding it represent the way such an individual engages with the world. There is room for further refinement of their interpretations. For instance, the passage “When I first began butchering oxen, all I saw was the whole ox. After three years, I no longer saw the whole ox. Now, I meet it with my spirit rather than looking at it with my eyes. My senses stop functioning, and my spirit moves as it wills” (始臣之解牛之时, 所见无非牛者; 三年之后, 未尝见全牛也。方今之时, 臣以神遇而不以目视, 官知止而神欲行), can be understood as an allegory for the process of self-transcendence. By adopting this metaphorical interpretation, it can be argued that the knife, the skill of wielding the knife, and the practice of butchering the ox are somewhat like the apple peel and the Mississippi River—two things with relatively weak commensurability in relation to self-transcendence in the form of experiencing and attaining the Dao.

Among Zhuangzi’s allegories of skill, the story of the Lüliang swimmer bears a strong resemblance to the Cook Ding. Applying a similar metaphorical framework, the Lüliang swimmer represents the self-transcender, and his skill in swimming in the torrent—”swimming into the water together with the whirlpool and emerging from the surface together with the surging waves, following the Dao of the water without pursuing his own ends” (与齐俱入, 与汨偕出, 从水之道而不为私焉)—as a metaphor for the self-transcender’s way of being in the world. By extension, other skill allegories in Zhuangzi follow a similar metaphorical pattern. Their common feature is that the protagonists serve as metaphors for self-transcendent individuals. To conserve space, these will not be pointed out one by one below. In “The Old Metalworker Forging Weapons”, the old metalworker’s state while forging weapons—“paying no attention to other things, focusing solely on the weapons” (于物无视也, 非钩无察也)—serves as a metaphor for the process or state of self-transcendence. His realization that “forging skill can play its role precisely because it relies on the concentration of the spirit” (是用之者, 假不用者也以长得其用) is a metaphor for the state after attaining self-transcendence. In “The Ferryman Handling a Boat”, the statement “those who can swim can learn to row a boat after repeated practice, because they forget that water can endanger human lives” (善游者数能, 忘水也) and “thousands of scenes of boats capsizing and carriages stalling appear before his eyes, yet none of them can disrupt his inner peace. Having reached such a realm, how could he not feel at ease and content in whatever he does?” (覆却万方陈乎前而不得入其舍, 恶往而不暇!), use the “good swimmer” and the state of handling the boat—”people capable of diving to the bottom of the water” (没人)—to metaphorically describe the state of self-transcendence. In “Artisan Chui Drawing Circles with His Fingers”, Chui’s state of “not relying on the direction of the mind” (不以心稽) and “the mind focusing and unobstructed” (灵台一而不桎) while drawing circles with his fingers serve as metaphors for self-transcendence. In “Bohun Wuren Demonstrating Archery”, Bohun Wuren’s state of “shooting without shooting” (不射之射)—”Climbing a high mountain, standing on towering rocks, facing a precipice thousands of feet deep, and backing away from the abyss until two-thirds of the foot hangs over the edge” (登高山, 履危石, 临百仞之渊, 背逡巡, 足二分垂在外)—metaphorically describes the state of self-transcendence. In “The Hunchback Catching Cicadas”, the hunchback’s state after mastering the cicada-catching skill—“I stand still like a withered tree stump, motionless; I hold my arm with the pole like a dead branch. Though the world is vast and there are many things, I am aware only of the cicada’s wing. My body remains still, and I am not distracted by the myriad things in the world from my focus on the cicada. How could I fail to catch it!” (吾处身也, 若厥株拘; 吾执臂也, 若槁木之枝。虽天地之大, 万物之多, 而唯蜩翼之知。吾不反不侧, 不以万物易蜩之翼, 何为而不得!) and Confucius’s comment “When the will is undivided, it is concentrated on the spirit” (用志不分, 乃凝于神)—metaphorically represents the state of self-transcendence. In “Wheelwright Bian Chiseling Wheels”, the description “only by being neither too slow nor too fast can one achieve it with the hand and respond with the heart. It cannot be expressed in words, yet there is a kind of mysterious skill manifested in the process of making. I cannot explicitly convey it to my son, and my son cannot learn it from me. That is why I am still carving wheels at the age of seventy” (不徐不疾, 得之于手而应于心, 口不能言, 有数存焉于其间。臣不能以喻臣之子, 臣之子亦不能受之于臣, 是以行年七十而老斫轮)—is a metaphor for both the process and the state of self-transcendence. In “Woodworker Qing Carving a Bell Stand”, Qing’s preparatory study of calming his mind before carving—”one must fast to purify the mind. After three days of fasting, one no longer thinks about matters such as condolences, rewards and punishments, official positions, or profits and emoluments. After five days of fasting, one no longer concerns oneself with others’ criticism or praise, nor with the skill or clumsiness of one’s own work. After seven days of fasting, one is still and forgets even the existence of one’s own limbs and body” (必齐以静心。齐三日, 而不敢怀庆赏爵禄; 齐五日, 不敢怀非誉巧拙; 齐七日, 辄然忘吾有四枝形体也)—is a metaphor for the process of self-transcendence, while “no longer knowing about court rituals, and the mind is focused while the distractions of external things are dissolved”. (无公朝, 其巧专而外骨消)—metaphorically refers to the state of self-transcendence.

Furthermore, stories of Cook Ding and the Lüliang swimmer metaphorically represent the wandering state of existence associated with self-transcendence in Zhuangzi. The former even inspires the idiom “游刃有余” (lit. “wielding the blade with ample ease”), while in the latter, the very metaphor is built upon the Lüliang swimmer’s act of wandering through water. Other allegories, such as “The Old Metalworker Forging Weapons”, “The Ferryman Handling a Boat”, “Artisan Chui Drawing Circles with His Fingers”, “Bohun Wuren Demonstrating Archery”, “The Hunchback Catching Cicadas”, “Woodworker Qing Carving a Bell Stand”, metaphorically represent the forgetting aspect of self-transcendence. Phrases like “paying no attention to other things” (于物无视), “no longer thinks about matters” (不敢怀), “the distractions of external things are dissolved” (外骨消), “forgetting the water” (忘水), “none of them can disrupt his inner peace” (不得入其舍), “not relying on the direction of the mind” (不以心稽), “facing a precipice thousands of feet deep” (临百仞之渊), and “though there are many things, I am aware only of the cicada’s wing” (万物之多, 而唯蜩翼之知) use different expressions and degrees of forgetting to metaphorically represent this state of self-transcendence. Cook Ding’s process of mastering ox-butchering also serves as an allegory for forgetting in self-transcendence. Additionally, “Wheelwright Bian Chiseling Wheels” metaphorically points to the inexpressibility of experiencing and attaining the Dao.

A close examination of the quoted passages used as metaphors reveals that they primarily depict the ongoing state of various skilled activities—butchering an ox, swimming in the torrent, forging weapons, handling a boat, drawing circles, shooting an arrow, catching cicadas, chiseling wheels, and carving a bell stand. With the exception of the stilling the mind (静心) passage in “Woodworker Qing Carving a Bell Stand”, most of these descriptions do not directly illustrate self-transcendence in Zhuangzi, which is primarily characterized by forgetting and wandering. These scenes are merely appropriated to provide a vivid representation of the form of self-transcendence, yet their commensurability with it is limited. From this perspective, the protagonists of these allegories—Cook Ding, the Lüliang man, the old metalworker, the ferryman, Artisan Chui, Bohun Wuren, the hunchback, Wheelwright Bian, and Woodworker Qing—are not necessarily self-transcendent figures who have attained the Dao. Of course, what remains to be examined is the precise nature of the similarities between these allegories of skill and self-transcendence.

Interpreting Zhuangzi’s allegories of skill as metaphors for self-transcendence is a plausible approach. If the metaphorical nature of these allegories holds, it would significantly weaken the widely accepted view that Zhuangzi advocates attaining self-transcendence through skill. This prevailing perspective is largely based on identifying figures like Cook Ding as self-transcendent individuals and viewing their exceptional skills as manifestations of self-transcendence. However, this weakening remains superficial, as the argument that skill can lead to self-transcendence stems from interpreting the skill allegories as commensurable with self-transcendence. Here, an alternative interpretation is proposed, namely, the possibility of understanding them as metaphors. A deeper philosophical inquiry into whether skill can genuinely lead to self-transcendence remains to be pursued.

4. The Intentionality of Skill and the Non-Attachment of Self-Transcendence

Let us momentarily step outside the text of Zhuangzi and consider a real-world example to gain some insight. Chu Bingjie is a Chinese professional billiards player who has achieved remarkable success in Chinese-style eight-ball, winning prestigious titles such as the Global Championship of the Chinese Billiards International Masters and the Grand Finals of the Chinese Billiards Masters. His skill level is undoubtedly among the best in the field. Chu offers a widely quoted reflection on billiards: “The final stage is also the most magical one, known as ‘flow.’ In this stage, a player enters a state of perfect unity with the cue, experiencing an exhilarating sense of selflessness. There is no shot that cannot be made, no table that cannot be cleared. Vision becomes exceptionally sharp, while hearing diminishes or even shuts down. The player is fully immersed, unaffected by external distractions. Even the most difficult shots appear precisely defined, and the pockets seem infinitely large” (Chu 2024). This description evokes a similar reading experience to the skill allegories in Zhuangzi. Phrases like “no shot that cannot be made” and “even the most difficult shots appear precisely defined” closely echo the hunchback’s effortless mastery—his ability to pluck cicadas “like picking them up with one’s hand, without any omission” (犹掇之) and his exclamation, “How could I fail to catch it?” Likewise, Chu’s “a state of perfect unity with the cue, experiencing an exhilarating sense of selflessness” parallels Cook Ding’s “meeting it with my spirit rather than looking at it with my eyes. My senses stop functioning, and my spirit moves as it wills”, the Lüliang man’s “swimming into the water together with the whirlpool and emerging from the surface together with the surging waves”, the hunchback’s “not being distracted by the myriad things in the world from my focus on the cicada”, and the metalworker’s “paying no attention to other things”. Exaggerating slightly, Chu Bingjie’s words almost qualify as inclusion in Zhuangzi’s allegories of skill.

However, has Chu Bingjie attained self-transcendence in the sense of attaining the Dao? There is no doubt that his billiards skill has reached an extremely high level, and his words are a natural and sincere expression of his exceptional abilities. Yet, in real life, he retains a pursuit of money and fame, a pursuit that may even be stronger than that of ordinary people. It can be said with some certainty that Chu has not attained the kind of self-transcendence described in Zhuangzi, which entails forgetting personal gain and renown. Similarly, in our modern society, every field has its top performers, and there are individuals who have reached the pinnacle of skill in various domains. We may all have individuals with outstanding skills around us. But based on experience and common sense, they do not necessarily possess the state of life or the realm of existence recommended by Zhuangzi. This means that achieving a high level of skill does not necessarily lead to self-transcendence in one’s state of being.

If we accept this judgment in our conceptual framework, it will heighten skepticism towards the claims of many scholars that Zhuangzi’s concept of skill can lead to self-transcendence, and it will also deepen our understanding of this issue to a significant extent. However, this is not an explanation based on the ideas of Zhuangzi. After all, Zhuangzi is a text from over two thousand years ago, and its ideas may not align with social reality or common sense. Ultimately, we must return to Zhuangzi and examine the question of whether skill can lead to self-transcendence from its own perspective.

Earlier, we defined self-transcendence in Zhuangzi as experiencing and attaining the Dao, primarily expressed through a state of forgetting. This forgetting encompasses multiple levels: forgetting material possessions, forgetting fame, forgetting right and wrong, forgetting knowledge, and forgetting speech, and ultimately forgetting the self and the mind. To forget the self and the mind means to forget everything, including oneself. Although still living in the world, one remains unattached to anything or anyone. If skill can lead to self-transcendence, then skill should and possibly could lead to this state of forgetting everything and being non-attached. But can skill truly attain this?

Han Linhe offers an enlightening discussion that he particularly emphasizes: “The ‘Dao’ possessed by the adept cicada catcher or the weapon-forger fundamentally differs from the state of experiencing the Dao as described in Zhuangzi, because the prerequisite for the latter is fasting of the mind, which entails non-attachment, whereas the former state of skillful mastery requires only absolute focus” (Han 2014, p. 251). Here, he discusses “the Hunchback Catching Cicadas” and “the Metalworker Forging Weapons”. His characterization of the hunchback and the metalworker as reaching a state of “absolute focus” is apt. The descriptions in Zhuangzi’s text of the hunchback’s “being aware only of the cicada’s wing” and the metalworker’s “focusing solely on the weapons” depict a state of focused attention. His judgment is also acceptable; being focused means being non-attached and thus not truly attaining the Dao. Hence, the hunchback and metalworker, while being focused on their skills, have not attained complete forgetting and self-transcendence.

Cheng Jun analyzes “Woodworker Qing Carving a Bell Stand” in a passage that he does not seem to highlight particularly: “Woodworker Qing achieves mental focus by forcing himself to forget external matters, gains and losses, and even the self. However, when he forgets himself, what he abandons is merely the physical form of his limbs, while his inner pursuit and goal of carving a bell stand with ‘divine workmanship’ remain firmly in his mind. Therefore, he has not truly reached the highest spiritual state of completely forgetting everything, allowing the heart to follow things and transform naturally” (Cheng 2020, p. 151). His thinking is similar to Han Linhe’s, and his judgments are also largely sound. Woodworker Qing indeed tries hard to forget. The text of Zhuangzi describes how he progressively forgets “congratulations and condolences, rewards and punishments, official positions, profits and emoluments” (庆赏爵禄), “criticism and praise, skill and clumsiness” (非誉巧拙), and finally “limbs and body” (四枝形体). However, the purpose of this forgetting is to achieve deep focus, which the text describes as “the mind is focused while the distractions of external things are dissolved” (巧专而外骨消). Cheng’s description is vivid, stating that Qing remains “constantly mindful” of carving the bell stand, leading to his conclusion that Qing has not truly attained the Dao. Thus, Qing, too, fails to attain complete forgetting and self-transcendence through his skill.

Examining other skill allegories in Zhuangzi reveals that the phenomenon of focusing frequently appears. In “the Ferryman Handling a Boat”, the phrase “thousands of scenes of boats capsizing and carriages stalling appear before his eyes, yet none of them can disrupt his inner peace” expresses concentration on navigating the boat. In “Bohun Wuren Demonstrating Archery”, the description “climbing a high mountain, standing on towering rocks, facing a precipice thousands of feet deep, and backing away from the abyss until two-thirds of the foot hangs over the edge” depicts a state of being undisturbed by external distractions, but at the same time, it illustrates the focus on archery. In “Artisan Chui Drawing Circles with His Fingerss”, Artisan Chui’s “mind focusing and unobstructed” emphasizes his single-mindedness. Following the line of thinking by Han Linhe and Cheng Jun, the ferryman, Bohun Wuren, and Artisan Chui resemble the hunchback, metalworker, and Woodworker Qing, all of whom are focused on their skill but have not attained self-transcendence.

However, allegories like “Cook Ding Butchering an Ox”, “The Man of Lüliang Swimming in the Torrent”, and “Wheelwright Bian Chiseling Wheels” do not emphasize focus. Can Cook Ding, the Lüliang man, and the wheelwright Bian attain self-transcendence? A key distinction must be stressed: just as the opposite of “nothing” is not “everything” but “something”, the opposite of complete forgetting is not focus but intentionality. In the texts of these allegories, Cook Ding in butchering an ox, the Lüliang man in swimming in the torrent, and the wheelwright Bian in chiseling wheels, though not intensely focused, still involve some concern for their skill’s object or act. Without any intent or care for these, such scenes would scarcely unfold. In this sense, Cook Ding, the Lüliang man, and the wheelwright Bian have also not attained complete forgetting and self-transcendence.

What might raise questions here is that, while the same skill allegories were previously emphasized as metaphors for the forgetting and wandering associated with self-transcendence, they are now being emphasized for their focus and intentionality. Are not these two aspects contradictory? In fact, these are just two sides of the same coin. When we care about certain things, we inevitably disregard others; when we focus intensely on one matter, we may forget everything else. Franklin Perkins also explicitly points out this issue, stating: “attention to one side goes along with forgetting the other side” (Perkins 2023, p. 166). Many of Zhuangzi’s skill allegories highlight both aspects—forgetting and focus—simultaneously. For example, “The Hunchback Catching Cicadas” states, “though the world is vast and there are many things, I am aware only of the cicada’s wing”. “The Old Metalworker Forging Weapons” says, “Paying no attention to other things, focusing solely on the weapons”. “Woodworker Qing Carving a Bell Stand” speaks of “fasting to purify the mind”, and “the mind is focused while the distractions of external things are dissolved”. The key point, however, is that forgetting and focus are not equally balanced in parallel. Forgetting is for the sake of focus, that is, eliminating all possible external distractions to allow greater concentration on the object of the skill. In these activities, focus is the goal, while forgetting is merely a means to achieve it. This suggests that the forgetting in Zhuangzi’s skill allegories is selective and incomplete. Franklin Perkins writes, “Along with selective forgetting, the Zhuangzi includes a more radical ideal of total oblivion” (Perkins 2023, p. 169), and it is this latter ideal that represents true self-transcendence.

Broadly speaking, engaging in skill-based activities inevitably demands intentionality. One must have a desire and attention to the object or behavior of the skill. To achieve a high level of skill, one might even require deep focus, immersing oneself fully in concentrated effort. Intentionality and focus are not the same state as the complete forgetting required for self-transcendence in Zhuangzi. The former involves directing the mind towards an object, while the latter involves not directing the mind towards any object, including the mind itself. Moreover, complete forgetting hinges on negating focus and intentionality—achieved only by relinquishing focus for non-attachment. The intentionality of skill and the non-attachment of self-transcendence stand in contradiction, perhaps revealing the deeper reason why skill in Zhuangzi cannot lead to self-transcendence.

We should not, however, veer to the other extreme and conclude that skill necessarily hinders self-transcendence. The selective forgetting that often occurs in skill activities, for the sake of focus, is still a form of forgetting. Although this forgetting is not complete, it does represent a certain level of forgetting. Compared to a mind perpetually attached to all things, the focused forgetting still manages to let go of many things, perhaps even the majority. Should someone draw inspiration from this, advancing further or even completing the journey of forgetting, they could near self-transcendence. In this specific sense, skill might contribute to attaining self-transcendence.

Of course, the claim that skill cannot lead to self-transcendence only applies to Zhuangzi and is determined by its unique characteristics. There are various pathways to self-transcendence, many of which involve a process of negation, but usually behind this negation lies some form of affirmation. Zhuangzi’s negation is a more thorough one, forgetting everything, including oneself, and being unattached to anything. Perhaps the only thing it does not negate is the act of living itself; it does not advocate actively giving up life. As Chen Lai has said, “The ideal person in Zhuangzi does nothing”. How, then, could one who has attained complete forgetting and self-transcendence actively engage in butchering an ox, catching cicadas, or carving wood…?

If so, why does Zhuangzi employ skill to illustrate self-transcendence, and how can skill lead to it? On the former question, Li Zhuangying offers an explanation: “In China, the Dao has never existed merely as a pure concept but always as a path of practice. Precisely for this reason, when Zhuangzi speaks of attaining the Dao, he always uses practical skills as metaphors” (Li 2003, p. 67). This explanation, while rich in metaphysical implications, is not only difficult to understand but also not entirely accurate on a factual level. Zhuangzi does not “always use practical skills as metaphors” for attaining the Dao; there are many instances in the text where skill is not used as a metaphor, such as “sounds of nature”, “the wooden chicken”, “shadow”, “wind”, and “the true painter”, among others. By comparison, Wang Furen’s perspective is more illuminating: “Zhuangzi was someone who lived at the lower strata of the intellectual class, surrounded by few scholars but many people engaged in various productive endeavors. Among them, skilled craftsmen not only aroused Zhuangzi’s admiration, but their refined and masterful skills often impressed him far more than the eloquence of elite intellectuals who merely played with words” (Wang 2009, p. 14). While the author of Zhuangzi may not have necessarily admired artisans, such figures were likely commonplace in his daily life. The self-transcendence described in Zhuangzi, characterized by experiencing and attaining the Dao, is inherently difficult to depict and articulate. It makes sense that the author of Zhuangzi would use ordinary people and events from everyday life as metaphors.

Regarding why skill can lead to self-transcendence, I propose that this stems primarily from two traits of skill activities: focus and tacitness (默会性). Skill activities typically demand concentration to reach a high level of proficiency, which represents their focus aspect. Once mastered, many skills can become tacit knowledge, meaning they operate almost automatically without conscious effort, which represents their tacit aspect. Both focus and tacit knowledge share commonalities with the concept of forgetting in Zhuangzi’s self-transcendence. Focus enables one to distance oneself from external distractions and achieve self-forgetfulness, while tacit knowledge makes it appear as if the skill functions on its own without intentional control. In the skill allegories of Zhuangzi, “The Old Metalworker Forging Weapons”, “The Hunchback Catching Cicadas”, “Woodworker Qing Carving a Bell Stand”, “Bohun Wuren Demonstrating Archery”, and “The Ferryman Handling a Boat” tend to use the focus aspect of skill activities to vividly illustrate self-transcendence. Conversely, “Cook Ding Butchering an Ox”, “Wheelwright Bian Chiseling Wheels”, “Artisan Chui Drawing Circles with His Fingers”, and “The Man of Lüliang Swimming in the Torrent” leverage the tacit aspect to depict self-transcendence. Deng Lianhe remarks: “Zhuangzi ultimately ascribed the extraordinary effects of skill to the mental state of the practitioner, which undoubtedly carries a mystical tint” (Deng 2008, p. 61). In fact, the mysterious and supernatural elements in Zhuangzi’s discussion of skill can largely be attributed to the focus and tacit knowledge inherent in skill activities. The remaining aspects may be embellishments by the author to further illustrate the state of self-transcendence.

In the discussion above, the vast majority of Zhuangzi’s skill allegories have been interpreted, with the sole exception of “The Old Man of Hanyin Watering His Vegetable Garden”. Although this story is closely related to self-transcendence, it differs from all the other allegories in that skill is not present in a metaphorical sense. How to understand “The Old Man of Hanyin Watering His Vegetable Garden” requires a separate exploration, which will be addressed in another article.

5. Conclusions

The skill allegories in Zhuangzi, such as “Cook Ding Butchering an Ox”, “The Hunchback Catching Cicadas”, and “Woodworker Qing Carving a Bell Stand”, are metaphorical in nature. The demonstration of skill and its contexts are primarily used to vividly illustrate self-transcendence of experiencing and attaining the Dao, rather than serving as actual expressions of self-transcendence. Theoretically, skill necessitates intentionality, whereas self-transcendence in Zhuangzi’s sense requires complete forgetting and a state of non-attachment. The two are not only different but even contradictory. Therefore, skill in Zhuangzi cannot directly lead to self-transcendence.