Now I have something to say here. I do not know whether or not
what I have to say is of the same category as "this." But, whether
it is of the same category or not, like them it is a category, thus
in the end it is no different from "that." Nevertheless, let me try
to explain myself.

   There is beginning. There is a time before beginning. There
is a time before the time before beginning. There is being. There
is nonbeing. There is a stage before nonbeing. There is a stage
before the stage before nonbeing. Suddenly there is being and
nonbeing. Still, as for being and nonbeing, I do not know which 
is really being and which is nonbeing. Now I have just said
something, but I do not know whether what I have said is really
saying something or not.

   There is nothing under heaven larger than the tip of a downy
hair at the end of autumn, but Mount T'ai is small. There is no
greater longevity than that of a child who dies in infancy, but 
Progenitor P'eng died young. Heaven and earth were born together
with me and the myriad things are one with me. Since all things
are one, how can there be anything to talk about? But since I
have already said that all things are one, how can there be
nothing to talk about? One and speech makes two, two and one
makes three. Continuing on in this fashion, even the cleverest
mathematician couldn't keep up, how much less an ordinary person!
Therefore, if in proceeding from nonbeing to being we arrive at
three, how much farther we shall reach when proceeding from being
to being. We need not proceed at all if we understand the mutual
dependence of "this" and "that."


From "Wandering on the Way" by Victor H. Mair, 1994  pp. 18-19
Chapter 2, Part 8 from the Writings of Chuang Tzu
Typed by Stefan Erickson, 7/24/97