Imagine standing at the edge of a cliff, bow in hand, target set across a gaping chasm—how does your skill change when your environment shifts dramatically?
This question lies at the heart of Zhuangzi’s parable “Liezi Tests Archery,” a thought-provoking story that resonates deeply with anyone who has ever faced fear or anxiety about the future.
This ancient text offers profound insights into how our perceptions can alter our abilities and outcomes, making it a perfect reflection for those exploring life’s uncertainties.
Let’s get to it.
I. The Parable
A Master of Archery…?
One day, Lie Yukou demonstrated his archery skills to Bohun Wuren, drawing the bow fully with a cup of water placed on his elbow.
When he shot the arrows, they hit the target accurately without spilling the even a drop of water. He had such composure as if he was just performing an ordinary task as an ordinary person.
However, Bohun Wuren was not amazed. Instead, he said: “This is archery reliant on skills, not beyond skills.”
He challenged Lie Yukou:
“If I took you to a high mountain, stood you on precarious rocks, and faced you towards an abyss a thousand feet deep, could you still shoot your arrows?”
…Not When Facing Abyss
Lie Yukou took the challenge.
Consequently, Bohun Wuren led Lie Yukou up a high mountain, onto dangerous rocks, facing the abyss.
While guiding Lie Yukou forward, Bohun Wuren could slightly lean back with his feet hanging over the edge. He was composed and could move freely.
However, Lie Yukou fell to the ground, sweating profusely to his heels. He could barely stand, let alone shooting an arrow.
Seeing this, Bohun Wuren said:
“The true sage can gaze into the sky, delve into the earth, expel to all extremes, with his spirit unshaken. Now you appear terrified and anxious; this shows that you are already disturbed within!”
II. Taoist Perspective
What is the fundamental difference between shooting arrows on a target range and on a cliff edge?
Essentially, the actions are the same: the same distance, the same draw of the bow, the same aim, and the same release.
So why does a change in environment bring such drastic changes in shooting results?
It’s because of the “heart of gain and loss.”
1. The Heart of Gain and Loss
Seeing the abyss, we fear dangers that have yet to come, and we lose our composure, unable to perform the same techniques we would effortlessly display on the range.
Isn’t life much the same? We burden ourselves with anxieties over all the unwanted possibilities that have yet to occur, as if we are hanging weights on our own shoulder.
What we fear is not so much the challenges ahead but rather the fear itself.
If we could surpass the heart of gain and loss and focus solely on the process—despite aiming for our ideal goals—we could perform at our best and naturally achieve the best future, unburdened and at ease.
2. Modern Implications
Although written over two millennia ago, the lessons it imparts are timeless and universal. It appeals particularly to those seeking to understand the interplay between skill, environment, and mental state.
For today’s readers, “Liezi Tests Archery” serves as a metaphor for modern challenges.
In life, work, or during a crisis, how often do we let the fear of potential outcomes affect our performance?
This story encourages us to maintain our focus and composure, regardless of external pressures.
It invites us to consider mindfulness as a tool for navigating the vicissitudes of life, suggesting that when we detach from fears of what might happen, we are free to act with clarity and purpose.
III. Conclusion
Zhuangzi’s “Liezi Tests Archery” is more than a narrative about ancient archery—it’s a profound commentary on human nature and the power of the mind.
By internalizing this parable, we can learn to face the cliffs of our lives—not with trepidation, but with the calm assurance that comes from understanding that our skills, honed through practice, do not falter simply because the ground beneath us has shifted.
This Taoist tale encourages us to face life’s challenges with the same steadiness we apply to our most mundane tasks, reminding us that the greatest mastery is over oneself
