I've been reading a book I saw recommended on HN called The Chuang Tzu. I'm reminded of a story in there, where the author character berates someone who smashed

I've been reading a book I saw recommended on HN called The Chuang Tzu. I'm reminded of a story in there, where the author character berates someone who smashed all of the gourds they had grown because they couldn't fit them neatly into the categories of gourd they imagined useful. "Clearly," chides Chuang Zhou, "your head is full of underbrush." I thought if I pointed out the underbrush you'd see it was obscuring your vision. But now I wonder if maybe you regard what's beyond as an eyesore, and the underbrush as a tool to keep it from your view. Maybe you're right, maybe it's more important to be happy than to see clearly. I wish you the best.