According to tradition, the highest art form emits magic where onlookers are mesmerized by a piece of art or sculpture, or by the strokes and movements of the artist(s). The Chinese call this highest art form 'Chu Shen Jin Fa' (literally Exit Spirit Enter Magic), translated and paraphrased as ‘the manifestation of spirit produces magic’.
Only a handful has ever reached such subtle heights, therefore the multitude continues to be mystified by the magical displays of past renowned artists. Real masters who perhaps manifested their spirits in the arts include Michelangelo, Leonardo Da Vinci, Claude Monet, Rembrandt and Vincent Van Gogh.
Of medieval martial artists, probably the best known to the West is legendary Zhang Sanfeng, the founder of Taijiquan; where even today real masters can at times perform magical movements of the art. Many may not know that Zhang Sanfeng, a Quanzhen Daoist, developed Taijiquan patterns from hexagrams of the Yi. And he followed the waxing and waning of the Moon phases in his neidan meditation. Perhaps only those who study the purest form of Taijiquan available today understand what has been said.
Zhuangzi captured the essence of 'Chu Shen Jin Fa' with this story:
Cook Ting was cutting up an ox for Lord Wenhui. At every touch of his hand, every heave of his shoulder, every move of his feet, every thrust of his knee - zip! zoop! He slithered the knife along with a zing, and all was in perfect rhythm, as though he were performing the dance of the Mulberry Grove or keeping time to the Ching shou music.
"Ah, this is marvelous!" said Lord Wenhui. "Imagine skill reaching such heights!"
Cook Ting laid down his knife and replied, "What I care about is the Way, which goes beyond skill. When I first began cutting up oxen, all I could see was the ox itself. After three years I no longer saw the whole ox. And now - now I go at it by spirit and don't look with my eyes. Perception and understanding have come to a stop and spirit moves where it wants. I go along with the natural makeup, strike in the big hollows, guide the knife through the big openings, and follow things as they are. So I never touch the smallest ligament or tendon, much less a main joint."
"A good cook changes his knife once a year because he cuts. A mediocre cook changes his knife once a month because he hacks. I've had this knife of mine for nineteen years and I've cut up thousands of oxen with it, and yet the blade is as good as though it had just come from the grindstone. There are spaces between the joints, and the blade of the knife has really no thickness. If you insert what has no thickness into such spaces, then there's plenty of room - more than enough for the blade to play about it. That's why after nineteen years the blade of my knife is still as good as when it first came from the grindstone."
"However, whenever I come to a complicated place, I size up the difficulties, tell myself to watch out and be careful, keep my eyes on what I'm doing, work very slowly, and move the knife with the greatest subtlety, until - flop! The whole thing comes apart like a clod of earth crumbling to the ground. I stand there holding the knife and look all around me, completely satisfied and reluctant to move on, and then I wipe off the knife and put it away."
"Excellent!" said Lord Wenhui. "I have heard the words of Cook Ting and learned how to care for life!" (www.publicappeal.org/