Chuang Tzu's wife died. The emperor came to pay his respects. Chuang Tzu was a great sage, so even the emperor came. He was also a friend; the emperor was a friend to Chuang Tzu, and sometimes he would call Chuang Tzu to his palace to learn his wisdom. Chuang Tzu was just a beggar, but a great sage. The emperor came. He rehearsed in his mind what to say because Chuang Tzu's wife had died. He thought of every good thing to console him, but the moment he saw Chuang Tzu he became very uneasy. Chuang Tzu was singing. He was sitting under a tree playing his instrument, singing loudly. He looked very happy, and just in the morning his wife had died.

 

The emperor became uneasy and he said, "Chuang Tzu, it is enough if you are not weeping, but the singing is too much. It is going too far!"

 

Chuang Tzu asked, "But why should I weep?"

 

The emperor said, "It seems you have not heard that your wife is dead.".

 

Chuang Tzu said, "Of course, my wife is dead. Why should I weep? If she is dead, she is dead. And I never expected that she was going to live forever. You weep because you expect. I never expected that she was going to live forever. I always knew she was going to die any day, and this day it happened. This was going to happen any day. And any day is as good for death as any other, so why should I not sing? If I cannot sing when there is death, then I cannot sing in life, because life is a continuous death. Every moment death will occur somewhere to someone. Life is a continuous death. If I cannot sing at the moment of death, I cannot sing at all.

 

"Life and death are not two things. They are one. The moment someone is born, death is born with him. When you are growing in life you are also growing in death, and whatsoever is known as death is nothing but the peak of your so-called life. So why should I not sing? And, moreover, the poor woman has lived so many years with me, so will you not allow me to sing a little in gratitude when she has left? She must go in peace, harmony, music and love. Why should I weep?

 

"You weep only when you expect and the expected doesn't happen. I never expected that she was going to be here forever. When you do not expect, when you do not desire, you cannot be discontented."

 

Look at the difference. We go on desiring, then there are failures. Then we try to cultivate contentment. This sutra means that you do not desire and you see also the futility of desire. So the second difference: you cultivate contentment only when you fail. If you succeed, then you are overjoyed. That shows your contentment was false. When you are a failure, you say, "I am contented." When you succeed, you are filled with joy. That is impossible. Behind your contentment, under your contentment, there must have been some sadness. Otherwise, in your success this joy is not possible. If in success you feel happy, then it is impossible not to feel unhappy when you fail.

 

With a person like Chuang Tzu or a person like Buddha, whether they succeed or fail is immaterial. It is irrelevant. They remain contented. Your false contentment will be broken by your success. You use it only as a center when you are in failure, in misery. When you succeed, you come off the center into the open sky, dancing and jumping, happy and enjoying. This is impossible. That shows that your center was a false one. It was just an emergency arrangement. It was not your nature. The person who is in contentment will not feel any difference between success and failure. He cannot. Now there is no difference. Whatsoever happens he is contented. Whether he succeeds or fails is not his concern, because there is no desire to have a particular result, to have a particular future. Whatsoever happens, his future is liquid. He is ready to absorb it, whatsoever it is.

 

I remember another anecdote about Chuang Tzu. Whenever someone would say something to him, even before he had said it Chuang Tzu would say, "Good, very good!" This was a habit. So sometimes the situation would become very awkward, because someone would say something which was not good and he would not even hear. He would just say, "Good, very good!" Someone was saying, "My wife has died," and Chuang Tzu said, "Good, very good!" as if he had not heard. Someone would say, "My house has been broken into during the night, burglarized." But Chuang Tzu would say, "Good, very good!"

 

One day someone said, "Your son has fallen from the tree and broken both his legs." He said, "Good, very good!" So people began to think that he didn't know the meaning of "good" -- because if there is nothing bad, if everything is good, then you are crossing the boundaries of language. So the whole village gathered, and they asked him, "Please be kind enough to tell us what you mean by 'good' -- because we have been reporting all kinds of things, even misfortunes and deaths have been reported, and you have said 'good'. And this morning your own son has fallen from the tree, both legs broken. He was your help in old age, your only help. He was serving you up until now, and now you will have to serve him. In your extreme old age it is a misfortune, but you said 'good'."

 

Chuang Tzu said, "Wait! Life is a very complex affair."

 

And the next day it happened that the country was involved with the neighbouring country, at war, and it was compulsory that every young man be recruited into the military. Only Chuang Tzu's son was left because his legs were crippled. So they said, "You have a very deep insight into things it seems. You said 'good', and it has turned out to be 'good'."

 

Chuang Tzu said. "Wait! Don't be in a hurry. Life is very complex and things go on happening!"

 

The son was just engaged to a girl, but the next day the family refused to let her marry him because now there was no hope of whether he would even be able to walk again; his legs were very much injured. So again the people said, "It seems to be a bad thing after all."

 

Chuang Tzu said, "Wait! Don't be in a hurry. Life is very patient."

 

After a week, the girl who was going to be his son's wife, whom the family denied to him, died suddenly. So the villagers came and said again, "What are you doing! You have a very uncanny insight. Did you see that she was going to die?"

 

But Chuang Tzu went on saying, "Wait! Wait!"

 

Chuang Tzu had said that everything is good if you do not have any expectation. And life is infinite, God is infinite, but our patience is so small. Why are we so impatient? Why? We have expectations; we desire something. Something must be there! Something must happen!

 

- Osho, "The Ultimate Alchemy, Vol 2, #14"