This is another illustration of the half man, half-god status of Lao Tzu. He was most definitely distinct from common people in appearance. The ears down to the shoulder just means his ears were extraordinarily big, which, according to Chinese traditional physiognomy, was a symbol of good luck. Lao Tzu may indeed have been a fortunate man in his real life; however, in another sense as a supernatural entity and progenitor of a great spiritual system he is without rival.
The 6th century BC was a time of enormous political, social, spiritual and philosophical ferment. It was a time when China was in the midst of a long and difficult transition from a society based on slavery toward a more feudal model of social organization. It was a time of almost constant warfare as a patchwork assortment of states sought glory and hegemony on the battlefield. This was also a time of enormous intellectual innovation and disputation. Hundreds of schools contended the great spiritual questions of the age—a time of speculation and questioning.
The ancient chronicles contend that Lao Tzu’s father was Li Qian, a petty functionary who provided his son with a good education. Some years later Lao Tzu came with his father to Luoyang, which was then the capital of the State of Zhou. Walking through the streets of modern-day Luoyang, and standing on the steps of the city’s temple, one can perhaps catch the merest taste of what the city must have been all those thousands of years ago: the heated disputation on academic subjects, about the Heavens and Earth and man’s place in the scheme of things. It was in Luoyang that Lao Tzu found employment as the keeper of the royal archives, a position that allowed the voraciously curious young learning from the vast array of tomes that Incense Burner. made up the king’s library and archive.
One of Lao Tzu’s duties was said to be keeping a record of the various meetings which daily took place between the king and the various ministers and attendants who made up the royal court. At such meetings, a strict protocol was observed, and the only one who was permitted to sit was the king himself. However a special privilege was granted to the learned scribe. While transcribing the minutes of all royal appointments, Lao Tzu was permitted to lean against a large pillar in the royal chamber. This is the origin of the position “Functionary under the Pillar” which was extensively used by later generations to denote such a post.
Today, almost all Taoist temples include just such an iron pillar in their structures to commemorate Lao Tzu’s work as a “Functionary under the Pillar.” There is, predictably, a much more fabulous story of the origin of this pillar, which is widely referred to by many common people as the “Driving Mountain Whip.” The Luyi County was, in antiquity, known by the name of “Ku” (meaning “Bitter Land).” This was because the land at that time was said to be barren, mountainous and covered in impenetrable forest with wild beasts wandering the slopes, making it an extremely hazardous place for human habitation. Legend says that Lao Tzu was determined to improve the land of his birth and so he smelted ores for seven days and nights to produce extremely durable wrought iron, which he then spent another 49 days fashioning into a mystic whip of unimaginable power. The divine sage raised the whip and smote the mountain three times, each time throwing up dazzling flashes of lightning and blinding fire. The mountains disintegrated and in their stead was left a fertile, flat land where people could live and work in comfort and contentment. The pillar in most Taoist temples is thus believed to be a commemoration of these godlike feats by Lao Tzu.
