The husband, nicknamed the Filigree Man, saw Lao Tzu and asked:
“I heard that you, teacher, are a wise man, and that’s why I came to see you.” The long journey did not deter me either. I walked past hundreds of inns, my feet were covered with calluses, but I didn’t dare stop. Now I saw that you are not a sage: there are leftover rice at the mouse holes, throwing it at random is merciless. You have plenty of both raw and cooked, and you collect and accumulate without limit.
Lao Tzu remained silent with an indifferent look.
The next day the Filigree Man saw Lao Tzu again and said:
- Yesterday I made fun of you. Why does my heart sincerely refuse this today?
“I myself thought that I had gotten rid of those who cleverly recognize the insightful and wise,” replied Lao Tzu. “If yesterday you had called me an ox, and I would have called myself an ox; they would call me a horse, and I would call myself a horse. If, having met some entity, someone gives it a name, then, without accepting the name, you will get into trouble from such a person. I did not submit because I was conquered, but I submitted without changing.
The filigree man walked sideways, avoiding his shadow, walked straight into the house without taking off his shoes, and asked:
- How can I improve?
“You behave arrogantly, you look impudent,” said Lao Tzu. “Your forehead is high and simple, but you growl like a tiger, an unnatural look.” You stand there like a horse on a leash. You would rush away, but you force yourself to restrain yourself. You throw yourself like an arrow, you understand the little things, you know all the tricks, but you look serene. No one will find you trustworthy. There are such people on the outskirts, and their name is thieves.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru