Once upon a time in ancient China, there was an Emperor who wished to renovate an old temple in the capital city. He issued an imperial decree, and many groups came forward, all hoping to have the honor of working on this project.

The Emperor's ministers evaluated the groups and eliminated all but two from consideration. Then they reported to him: "Your Majesty, we cannot decide which of the two remaining groups to choose. Each feels it should be the one to renovate the old temple, and each seems to have good reasons."

"Bring them before me," the Emperor commanded. "I shall render the final decision."

The first was a group of monks. They said: "Your Majesty, no one cares about the temple like we do. Should you decide to grant us this honor, you can be certain that we will do everything possible to restore the temple to its former glory."

The second was a group of royal artisans. They said: "Your Majesty, no one has professional expertise like we do. Renovation is what we have done for decades. No other group can do as good a job as we can. We feel it is only right and proper that we be given the honor."

The Emperor considered at length, and then said: "The ministers were right. It is indeed difficult to decide. Let me tell you how we shall proceed. South of the palace, there are two small temples that, like the old temple, have also fallen into disuse. I want you to renovate them. At the end of the third working day, I will come for an inspection. My final decision will be based solely on the merits of your work."

The ministers took the two groups to the small temples. They assigned one temple to each group, and made sure both groups had all the supplies they needed.

After three days, the Emperor came to judge the two groups. Accompanied by the ministers, he walked to the artisans' temple, and saw that it was beautiful. All the walls and the roof had been completely repainted. This was done with a skillful selection of bright colors, which seemed to glow and command attention. Inside, all the furnitures had been rebuilt. Everything looked brand new.

The Emperor praised the artisans: "This is much more than I expected. Now I see what you mean by being the best at what you do. You have made this temple spectacular!"

The artisans were ecstatic. They bowed in gratitude, and then looked at one another with big smiles. With such lavish praise coming from the Emperor, their victory was all but guaranteed.

Then, the Emperor and the ministers walked to the other temple. Still feeling impressed by the artisans, they all thought it would be impossible for the monks to match such a high level of professional skill.

When the monks' temple came into view, they were not prepared for what they saw. The monks did not repaint their temple at all. Instead, they cleaned everything with meticulous attention to detail. The walls showed the colors that had faded over the years, displaying an unexpected beauty beyond description. Free of the dust and dirt that obscured it before, the temple stood revealed in its original style and ancient character.

They walked inside and saw that all the furnitures had been carefully polished to a mirror finish. The doors and windows were open, so the colors of the sunset illuminated everything as if they were part of the temple. They could see that outside there were trees swaying in the wind and clouds floating in the sky. Everything seemed to belong together, like a painting coming to life. Rather than to demand their attention, this temple seemed to be perfectly at peace, accepting everything in a state of serenity.

The Emperor was deeply moved. He turned to the ministers and saw that everyone felt the same way. There was no need to say anything. It was obvious that the Emperor had made his final decision.

The two groups in the story represent two different approaches in life. The artisans focused on external appearance; the monks emphasized internal essence. When we observe people, we can see the two corresponding mindsets: some worry about cutting a dashing figure and projecting the right image, while others are more concerned about cultivating the spirit and letting the inner light shine through.

As the story shows, these two mindsets have different goals. The artisans were primarily interested in showcasing their expertise. The temple they worked on became a way for them to demonstrate how good they were in their profession. In that sense, the renovation was all about them.

The monks were different in that they had nothing to prove and no need to display their skills. Their goal was to showcase the temple rather than themselves. By the end of the story, the Emperor realized that this was much more in keeping with the primary purpose of the project.

In life, the external approach is similar to the artisans in its egocentric tendency. When people go out of their way to "look good" and present a perfect facade, they are not so different from the artisans - their desire is to win recognition and approval from others.

The internal approach is free of this desire. When Tao cultivators work on themselves, they are like the monks letting the true character of the temple speak for itself. They listen to the guidance of an inner voice and do not need the good opinions of others for validation.

The two mindsets also employ methods that are quite different. The artisans used paint because it was their standard practice to cover up smears and smudges. Anything that detracted from an appealing appearance could simply be hidden under a new coating.

The monks did not use paint because their method was cleaning up instead of covering up. It was the opposite of the artisans' method - instead of adding to the temple by applying paint, they took away from it by getting rid of the dust and dirt. Theirs was a process of decrease instead of increase, loss instead of gain.

This comparison gives us insights into the potential problems of the external approach. The paint in the story symbolizes the tremendous resources that human beings go through in maintaining appearances and hiding problems. It is not the best way to live for the simple reason that concealment does nothing to address underlying issues. Sometimes, it can even make things worse.

For instance, we can take a wooden plank that has rotted inside and paint it. The paint job makes it look good, but if we put any weight on it, it will break. The paint introduces an additional, dangerous possibility that someone will use the plank without being aware of its weakness. This may result in a structure that appears solid, but can collapse at any time.

The comparison also makes it clear that the internal approach, represented by the monks' method, is a cleansing and revealing process. This, however, is not about cleanliness in the physical sense. It is a cultivational practice to discard excess and simplify complexity so we can return to our true nature. Tao Te Ching chapter 48 describes it as "pursue Tao, daily loss."

It is an essential practice for spiritual health. The inner self becomes increasingly affected by the material world in the course of life, just like the temple becoming dirty in the passage of time. The more attachments we accumulate, the more we need this inner cleansing. If we have mental baggage, we need to unlearn; if we have emotional dependencies, we need to let them go; if we have possessions that clutter up our lives, we need to give them away.

Aside from the different goals and methods, the two mindsets also produce different results. Like the artisans painting the temple with bright colors, the external approach goes to great lengths to demand attention and capture the spotlight. It is all about being loud, in terms of noise level as well as flashy colors. This is why the artisans' temple stood out and dominated its surroundings.

The internal approach produces results that are understated and elegant. Like the monks' temple silently accepting everything around it, Tao cultivators embody peace and composure. Instead of being loud and noisy, they express themselves with quiet clarity; instead of chasing after spotlights, they are content to excel invisibly. Thus, the monks' temple stood in harmony and integrated beautifully into its surrounding. This symbolizes the effortless perfection that manifests naturally when one flows with the Tao.

By now, it should be easy to see that the temples in the story are not really physical temples at all. They are symbols representing our original nature, our true selves. The renovation in the story isn't really about physical work either. To renovate is to renew. Therefore, the hidden meaning of "temple renovation" is literally the renewal of the spirit.

When we bring all these elements together, the story's message becomes clear. Have we been using too much paint in our lives, attempting to cover up smears and smudges? If so, then it's time to change the approach. Rather than to conceal, we need to reveal. Like the monks restoring the temple to its ancient character through meticulous cleaning, we too can return to our original nature through spiritual renewal. Free from the obstruction of attachments, the soul can emerge like a renovated temple… to stand in harmony and embrace the ultimate beauty of the Tao.
 

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