Weekend Story- Fire & Water
June 26, 2023
In the fourth century B.C., hidden within the state of Lu, lay the district over which Duke Chuang governed. The district, though small, had prospered exceedingly well under Chuang’s predecessor. But since Chuang’s appointment to the post, its affairs had deteriorated markedly. Taken aback by the sad turn of events, Chuang set out to the Han mountain to seek the wisdom of the great master Mu-sun.
When the duke arrived at the mountain, he found the great master sitting peacefully on a small rock looking out at the adjoining valley. After the duke had explained his situation to Mu-sun, he waited with bated breath for the great master to speak. Contrary to Chuang’s expectation, however, the master whispered not a word. Rather, he smiled softly and gestured to the duke to follow him.
Silently they walked until before them lay the Tan Fu River, whose end could not be seen, it was so long and broad. After meditating on the river, Mu-sun set out to build a fire. When at last it was lit and the flames were aglow, the master had Chuang sit by his side. There they sat for hours on end as the fire burned brilliantly into the night.
With the coming of dawn, when the flames no longer danced, Mu-sun pointed to the river. Then, for the first time since the duke’s arrival, the great master spoke, “Now do you understand why you are unable to do as your predecessor did—to sustain the greatness of your district?”
Chuang looked perplexed; he understood now no better than before. Slowly shame enveloped the duke. “Great master,” he said, “forgive my ignorance, for the wisdom you impart I cannot comprehend.” Mu-sun then spoke for the second time. “Reflect, Chuang, on the nature of the fire as it burned before us last night. It was strong and powerful. Its flames leapt upward as they danced and cried in vainglorious pride. No strong trees nor wild beasts could have matched its mighty force. With ease it could have conquered all that lay in its path.
“In contrast, Chuang, consider the river. It starts as but a small stream in the distant mountains. Sometimes it flows slowly, sometimes quickly, but always it sails downward, taking the low ground as its course. It willingly permeates every crack in the earth and willingly embraces every crevice in the land, so humble is its nature. When we listen to the water, it can scarcely be heard. When we touch it, it can scarcely be felt, so gentle is its nature.
“Yet in the end, what is left of the once mighty fire? Only a handful of ashes. For the fire is so strong, Chuang, that it not only destroys all that lies in its path but eventually falls prey to its own strength and is consumed. It is not so with the calm and quiet river. For as it was, so it is, so it will always be: forever flowing, growing deeper, broader, ever more powerful as it journeys down to the unfathomable ocean, providing life and sustenance to all.”
After a moment of silence, Mu-sun turned to the duke. “As it is with nature, Chuang, so it is with rulers. For as it is not fire but water that envelops all and is the well of life, so it is not mighty and authoritative rulers but rulers with humbleness and deep-reaching inner strength who capture the people’s hearts and are springs of prosperity to their states. Reflect, Chuang,” continued the master, “on what type of ruler you are. Perhaps the answer that you seek will lie there.”
Like a flash of lightning, the truth seized the duke’s heart. No longer proud but embarrassed and uncertain, he looked up with his enlightened eye. Chuang was now blind to all but the sun rising over the river.
Source-Copyright article from Harvard Business Review