Inspired by a parable from the Zhuangzi
A master carpenter was traveling through the countryside with his apprentice when they came upon a village gathered beneath an enormous tree.
Its trunk was so wide that several people joining hands could not reach around it. Its branches twisted high above the shrine, spreading shade across the village square. A crowd had gathered beneath it, talking and laughing. The carpenter’s apprentice stood among them, staring upward, mouth open.
“Master, look at that marvelous tree!”
With a quiet scoff, the carpenter kept walking.
“You hardly looked.”
“I looked enough.”
“But it is enormous.”
“That does not make it good timber. The trunk is knotted. The branches twist in every direction. Make a beam from it and it would warp. Make a boat and it would leak. Make a door and it would split.”
The carpenter gave the tree another glance.
“It has grown this large because no one wanted it.”
“So it is useless?”
“Completely.”
They continued on.
That night, the carpenter and his apprentice stayed in the village. The tree entered the carpenter’s dream.
He was standing again beneath the enormous tree. Moonlight rested on its branches.
Then a voice came from deep within the trunk.
“Carpenter.”
The carpenter looked around.
“You called me useless earlier today.”
The carpenter stared upward.
“Are you talking?”
“You seem surprised.”
“I have never known a tree to argue about timber.”
“Perhaps you have never truly listened.”
The carpenter folded his arms.
“I meant what I said. Your wood is no good. I could make almost nothing from you.”
“And what must I become?”
“A beam. A table. A boat. Something useful.”
The leaves stirred overhead.
“When I was young, other trees grew beside me. The straight ones became beams. The fragrant ones became boxes and ornaments. Those with beautiful grain became furniture and coffins.”
“And you?”
“I was fortunate not to possess any of those useful qualities in people’s eyes.”
There was something almost cheerful in the way the tree said it.
“So they left me alone.”
The tree grew quiet for a moment.
“For centuries, I have felt spring rain reach my roots after a dry winter. I have known summer heat, autumn wind, and snow bending my branches toward the earth. Birds have raised their young among my branches. Children who once climbed my roots now bring their grandchildren to sit in my shade. I have heard sweet laughter beneath me. I have known salty tears.”
The carpenter listened.
A breeze rustled through the leaves.
“Is none of this precious because I could not become a table?”
The carpenter looked down at his hands.
“I did not say you had no life. I said your wood had no use.”
“For your craft, perhaps that is true. Why would I tell a carpenter to build a roof from crooked timber?”
The carpenter laughed.
“Then what are we arguing about?”
“You looked at me and saw only what I could become in your hands. When I could become nothing useful to you, you called my whole life useless.”
The carpenter was silent.
After a while, the tree asked, “Do you look at yourself this way too?”
“What do you mean?”
“When you look at yourself, do you think of what you could become if you were picked, measured, cut, peeled, sectioned, carved, and polished by other hands? Is that what allows people to call you useful?”
The carpenter said nothing.
“Has usefulness been a blessing?”
“Yes,” the carpenter said.
The answer came easily.
Then the tree asked, “Has it been the whole of your life?”
That answer did not come as easily.
The carpenter sat down among the roots.
A faint breeze passed across his face.
The tree said, “You know the worth of wood very well. But do not mistake what wood is good for with what a life is worth.”
The next morning, the carpenter and his apprentice continued their journey, passing the enormous tree once more.
The carpenter stopped beneath it.
Its trunk was still knotted. Its branches were still crooked. Its wood would still make a poor beam, a poor boat, and a poor door.
The apprentice frowned.
“Master, why are you staring at a useless tree?”
The carpenter looked up into its branches.
“I am looking again.”
