《唐玄宗御制道德真经疏》Vol. 3

All under heaven have become scattered in their thinking and have lost their simplicity.

The common people focus their attention on the words and deeds of the sage, watching and listening with full concentration and taking the sage as their model.

The sage regards the people as infants and cares for them as a loving mother cares for her child.

Another interpretation holds that the people each have their own distinctions in mind, and the sage teaches them to set their hearts on goodness, so that they become as simple and unadorned as infants, free of any mind of discrimination.

Chapter Fifty: Coming Forth and Entering Death

The previous chapter spoke of the sage having no private intention and responding to goodness and sincerity with a simple, unpretentious heart. This chapter speaks of how to regard life and death, and of the methods by which one who is skilled at nourishing body and mind can avoid calamity. The opening five lines describe those who are at peace with their allotted time and follow change. The next five describe those who are caught up in change and insist on grasping. The final eight lines summarize the practices of one who is skilled at nourishment and explain the way of long life and enduring vision.

Coming forth is life; entering in is death.

To understand the principle of life and death, and not to cling eagerly to life, is called "coming forth." To be deluded by self-attachment, so that one's actions lead oneself toward the place of death, is called "entering in toward death." This is the main point this chapter sets out to explain.

Among the companions of life, three in ten.

"Companions" (tu) means categories. Here the passage speaks broadly of those among all beings who abide by the constant principle of life and do not regard themselves as especially honored. They arrive in the world naturally, without rigidly grasping. Such people number about three in ten. This shows that those who accord with the constant principle are few, and those who go against it are many.

Among the companions of death, three in ten.

Here too the passage speaks broadly of those who understand how to face death with equanimity and do not resist change. Such people number about three in ten. This shows that those who accord with the constant principle are few, and those who go against it are many.

Among the companions of death, three in ten.

Here the passage restates the point: those who understand how to face death with equanimity and do not resist change accept departure naturally, without fear or grief. Such people likewise number about three in ten.

Among every ten people, about three are those whose actions lead them straight toward death.

This refers to people who have lost the proper Dao and cling stubbornly to their own views, as well as people who do not understand how to nourish life correctly. Although they wish to preserve their lives, they have never truly grasped the way of nourishing life, so their actions often lead them toward peril. They have lost the right way of settling their lives and have also gone against the principle of accord with life. Roughly three in ten people are like this.

Why is this so?

This is a rhetorical question, used to introduce the reason why people walk toward peril.

Because they overly nourish their lives.

People walk toward peril because they are immersed in "yǒuwéi" (purposive action), indulge their desires, and single-mindedly pamper and sustain themselves, believing that this will preserve their lives. Overdoing the care of life instead pushes them toward peril.

It is said that one who is skilled at preserving life,

"Shè" means to nurture and protect. One who is skilled at nourishing life by following the Dao perceives the root of life and understands that life is originally pure and still. They do not cling to life, do not let desires disturb their inner calm, and cultivate their nature through emptiness and stillness, so external things find it difficult to harm them. This is why they are called "shàn shè shēng" (skilled at nourishing life).

On land they do not encounter sì or tigers; entering armed ranks, they are not struck by weapons.

"Yù" means to meet by chance. The sì is a horned beast resembling a wild ox. One who is skilled at preserving life harbors no intention to harm external things, so even when walking on land they are not harmed by sì or tigers, and entering armed ranks, they are not wounded by weapons. This means that the sì, the tigers, and the weapons have no opportunity to harm them.

The sì cannot thrust its horn toward them, the tiger cannot extend its claws toward them, and weapons cannot swing their blades toward them.

The preceding passage speaks of one who is skilled at nourishing life. Since such a person harbors no intention of harming external things, no si (a rhinoceros-like beast) or tiger will encounter them. This passage goes further: even when they do encounter these creatures, if the heart holds no intention to harm, the animals have no means to exert their claws and horns. From this we can see that one who has forgotten attachment to external things can make even the seagulls of the sea draw near and become tame, and wild beasts on land can be led along on a leash. How much less could such a person be harmed by them? Therefore, harm does not occur.

Why is this so?

This is a rhetorical question. Tigers, si, and weapons are all things that can injure people, yet now their claws and horns find no place to act, and weapons cannot do harm. What is the reason? Here the question is posed to guide the reader toward understanding the principle within.

Because he dwells among external things without hindrance, and if wild beasts still do not harm him, how much less could other kinds of harm reach him? Therefore, harm does not occur.

Why is this so?

Again, this is a rhetorical question. Tigers, si, and weapons are all things that can injure people, yet now their claws and horns find no place to act, and weapons cannot do harm. What is the reason? Here the question is posed to guide the reader toward understanding the principle within.

Because he has no "si di" (place of death) in which to meet his end.

This is the direct answer to the question. Clinging to the self and the body becomes a burden, and excessively cherishing and craving life instead invites death. One who is skilled at nourishing life contemplates that all phenomena are empty in their essential nature, and understands that bodily form is only a temporary aggregation. Therefore he can be within life without clinging to life, and he does not bring calamity upon himself through excessive nourishing. He has no private desires and follows transformation, so there is no "si di" that could cause him to fall into death. Since there is no "si di" in his heart, how could tigers, si, and weapons harm him?

Chapter Fifty-One: Dao Gives Birth to Things (Dao Sheng Zhi Zhang)

The previous chapter discussed going forth into life and entering death, and the principle of nourishing life and being freed from the entanglements of calamity. This chapter explains that the Dao (the Way) generates the myriad things and De (Virtue/Power) nourishes and raises them. The Dao and De do not govern the myriad things, yet they cause the things to grow naturally, and therefore they are honored. The opening establishes the Dao as the root, with its responsive, subtle function that brings the myriad things into being. It then explains why the myriad things revere the Dao and De. Beginning with "Dao sheng zhi, fu zan sheng xu zhi gong" ("The Dao gives birth to them, and again praises the merit of generating, nurturing, and raising"), the text praises the efficacy of the Dao in nurturing the myriad things. From "sheng er bu you" ("generating yet not possessing") onward, the text sums up and praises the virtue of not claiming merit.

The Dao generates the myriad things, and De nourishes them.

Dao brings the myriad things into being. Natural harmonious qi (qi, the subtle vital energy that harmonizes and transforms all things) nourishes and shapes them so they can grow, and so it is said, "Dao gives birth to them" (Dao sheng zhi). The commentary says, "The Mysterious Root (miaoben) moves and functions, descending harmonious qi." The Mysterious Root is Dao itself. When the supreme Dao sends down harmonious qi and this becomes the foundation of all things, it is called the Mysterious Root.

De (Virtue/Power) causes the myriad things to be nourished. De carries the sense of "attaining" (de), and xu means "to nurture." When the myriad things receive the working of Dao, they are able to sustain their own bodies. Viewed as this nurturing action, it is called De, and so it is said, "De nourishes them" (De xu zhi).

Once the myriad things have bodies, they take shape through particular conditions and momentum (shi). Dao gives birth to them and De nourishes them, so each thing displays its own form. The commentary cites the Great Commentary (Xici zhuan) of the Book of Changes (Yijing): "Qian knows the Great Beginning (taishi); Kun completes things." Qian stands for heaven, which governs the beginnings of all things, and Kun stands for earth, which gives them form. Heaven and earth establish bodies and also fix up and down, and these are all functions of Dao, carried out through Qian and Kun. What is called "shi cheng," the completion through momentum, means that Dao arranges for the myriad things the timing of the seasons, the advantages of terrain, and the courses and tendencies of Yin-Yang. Things accomplish themselves by relying on these conditions.

For this reason, none of the myriad things fails to revere Dao and to cherish De. Because Dao and De bring things into being and nourish them, every living thing honors Dao and respects De. This is an exhortation to all beings to value the root and to revere the Great Dao.

Dao is revered and De is cherished not because anyone grants them rank that makes them noble. Rather, the myriad things naturally respect them because of their work of generating and nourishing. Their honor has always arisen from what is so of itself (ziran).

Thus, Dao gives birth to the myriad things, and De nourishes them.

Dao causes the myriad things to come into being, which sums up the meaning of the phrase "Dao gives birth to the myriad things" (Dao sheng wan wu) in the first chapter. "Sheng" (birth) means bringing things into existence, and "xu" (nurturing) means raising them.

Causing things to grow and be nourished: "zhang" (growth) means making them steadily increase, and "yu" (rearing) means caring for them.

Causing things to take form and mature: "cheng" (completion) means assisting them from the side, and "shu" (ripening) means bringing them to full growth and perfection.

Supplying and sheltering the myriad things: "yang" (sustenance) means providing what they need, and "fu" (covering) means protecting them as a shade would. These eight functions all belong to the working of Dao and De, which is why the myriad things revere and cherish Dao and De.

Dao gives birth to the myriad things, yet it does not possess them, and it does not claim the name of having nurtured them. This sums up the meaning of Dao giving birth to the myriad things.

De nurtures the myriad things, yet it does not rely on this, and does not regard itself as having achieved any merit. This sums up the meaning of De nurturing the myriad things.

Dao and De cause the myriad things to grow and mature, yet they do not dominate them. Although they become the root and the source of return for the myriad things, they do not present themselves as masters, nor do they demand repayment. The scripture uses this to show that a ruler should emulate Dao and De, nurturing the common people without claiming credit.

This is called "xuan de" (profound De), meaning virtue that is deep and difficult to fathom. It is praise for the virtue of not claiming credit. "Xuan" refers to what is profound and beyond measure. Great Dao nurtures the myriad things without relying on them or dominating them. Its benefits reach all things, yet it does not display its achievements, and this is precisely the profound virtue.

Chapter 52, "Tianxia You Shi" (The World Has a Beginning).

All things under Heaven share a single common source, and this source is the Mother of all things. The Dao generates the myriad beings through its harmonious and subtle qi (the balanced, vital, and life-giving vapor), so that they may grow, just as a child is born of its mother. Although the Mother and the Dao-qi are distinct, their function in transforming and giving birth to the myriad things is one and the same. The purpose here is to lead people to recognize the origin of all things and to guard their roots.

Since human beings have received and rely upon this harmonious qi to nourish their lives, they should understand that their own bodies are born of the Dao-qi and are its "children."

Having recognized that the self is born of the Dao-qi, one should preserve the purity of the Dao, keeping oneself free from delusive thoughts and worldly desires. One should treasure the Yuan-qi (primordial qi) and nurture the spirit, so that they are not dissipated. Human beings are born of the Dao, and the Dao is the root; to return to the Dao and guard this root is to live out one's allotted years without danger.

To block the passages through which the senses are drawn to external things, and to close the gate of desire, is to be free from toil and disturbance throughout one's life. The "Dui" mentioned here refers to the ears and eyes delighting in sounds and colors, and to the nose and mouth delighting in fragrances and flavors. "Blocking the Dui and closing the gate" means restraining the senses from pursuing external things, thereby cutting off desire and guarding the root.

This passage explains the practice of cutting off desire and holding fast to the root. Dui (joy, delight) refers to the ears and eyes delighting in sounds and colors, and the nose and mouth delighting in fragrances and flavors. Each of the six roots (liu gen: the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind, the sources through which we perceive and cognize) has its own objects of delight. Men (gate) carries the sense of passage in and out, referring to the pathways through which the senses connect with external things. If one blocks craving for and pursuit of sounds, colors, and the like, the gate through which calamity enters is closed. With that gate shut, one need not toil over calamity throughout life, which is why the text says zhong shen bu qin (one does not toil all one's life).

Letting the senses indulge in craving for external things and busily gratifying those desires, one cannot be saved for life.

This passage explains the practice of turning away from the Dao. Opening the gates of the senses to pursue external things and busily satisfying craving increases calamity, so the situation cannot be retrieved for life.

To perceive the subtle is called ming (clarity).

This points out the root from which calamity is guarded against. When an evil omen is about to appear, it often first shows faint signs, so the seeds of worry, regret, and error often hide in the most minute places. One who holds to the root should guard against calamity before it sprouts, and address affairs in advance, before order is disturbed. Only one who can do this may be called ming (clarity).

To hold to softness is called qiang (strength).

Holding to softness means occupying the position of not contending with others, so that others find it hard to surpass one. This is the function of according with the Dao, and one who can do this is called qiang (strong).

After using external radiance, return to inner clarity (fu gui qi ming).

Guang (light) radiates outward and is always active, while ming (clarity) observes inwardly and is always still. To perceive the subtle and hold to softness is clarity. To possess strength without boasting is clarity that can use strength. Therefore, even when one observes outwardly, one ultimately returns to inner clarity. This further explains the meaning of jian xiao (seeing the small) and shou rou (holding to softness): one lets external illumination cease and returns inward, which is why the text says fu gui qi ming (return to its clarity).

Not letting oneself suffer calamity is called inheriting the constant Dao (cheng xi chang dao).

“Yi” means to give, and “yang” means calamity and blame. The meaning is this: bring forth brightness to illumine external things without clinging to them; turn back and guard inner clarity, without boasting of oneself. Guard the root and nurture the manifested function; reflect back upon the source, and naturally no calamity will be attracted. This is “following the constant” (xichang): secretly applying the wondrous function of the Dao. If people can perceive the subtle and stay far from harm, guard softness while inwardly containing brightness, then they know the manifested function and guard the root—that is, they secretly apply the true and constant Dao.

Chapter 53: “If I Were Slightly Wise”

The previous chapter discussed guarding the root and nurturing function, explaining that doing so can avoid calamity. This chapter says that if one considers oneself clever and insightful and acts accordingly, one will deviate from the great Dao, which is cause for worry and fear. The opening three lines show that relying on one’s own cleverness leads to violating the Dao; the next two lines point out that the great Dao is inherently straight, yet people prefer crooked paths; the following seven lines discuss the ills brought by self-reliant cleverness; and the last two lines lament that thieves boast of their own practices as contrary to the great Dao, thereby warning the world.

“If I had even a little self-righteous cleverness and wished to promote the great Dao in the world, what I would fear most is taking action.”

Here “shi wo” is a hypothetical formulation imagined by Lord Lao. “Jieran” describes an upright, rigid manner—a posture of self-reliance on one’s own insight. What Lord Lao worries about is this: if one believes oneself wise and wishes to rely on that wisdom to promote the great Dao of Wuwei, one will contravene the Dao and lose the teaching of purity, stillness, and Wuwei. To insist on doing something in every matter may instead harm the myriad things, and this is why it is cause for worry and fear.

“The great Dao is very level, yet the people prefer to take shortcuts.”

“Yi” means level; “jing” means a crooked bypath taken in search of quick arrival. The great Dao is broad, flat, and easy; its value lies in Wuwei and freedom from affairs. People, however, are unwilling to restrain their minds and diminish their desires; instead they busy themselves with managing affairs. At first they think that taking a side gate will bring quick success, but in the end they lose the proper Dao and injure their original nature.

“The court is adorned most magnificently...”

"Chu" means to govern. A ruler who seeks shortcuts does not uphold Wuwei (non-action) as the way to govern. Instead, he forces action in every matter. Even when the realm looks orderly on the surface, such activity only fosters cunning and deceit, which is why the Classic says that exalting worthiness and displaying cleverness gives rise to artifice and falsehood. Another reading holds that "chu" refers to the court's construction of lofty palaces and ornamented walls. Though the surface is lavishly beautified, this too is deliberate action that nurtures cunning and deceit.

The fields are overgrown with weeds and left untended. When rulers pursue luxury and craft and cause the people to idle away their days, farming falls into neglect. Since no harvest can be gathered, how could one expect grain to pile up like mountains?

The granaries stand empty. In good years the granaries are full, and when farming is neglected the storehouses naturally empty. This is an inevitable principle.

The people wear splendid robes. "Wen" refers to the patterns of blue and red, and "cai" to colored silks. This means that people look down on simplicity and instead prize gaudy appearances.

They wear sharp swords at their waists. The sharp sword symbolizes martial readiness. In governing a state, cultivated virtue (De) is the root and military force is only an aid. To value martial prowess alone is to abandon the root and elevate the branches.

Food and drink are so abundant that people tire of them. Here "yan" refers to food and drink, describing kitchens overflowing with provisions and people consuming every kind of rare delicacy. When the upper classes enjoy such lavish feasts, the common people below may suffer hunger and cold.

Possessions accumulate beyond need. Goods include money, silks, pearls, and jade. Hoarding in large quantities and levying heavy taxes produces an excess of wealth. Daoists hold that non-desire is the true treasure, and that single-minded accumulation only renders people benighted.

This is called "daokua" (boasting through plunder and extravagance), and it is not the way of the Dao (the Way)!

The one who is skillful at governing a state does not let the foundations of the state overturn, and the one who is skillful at protecting the common people does not let their hearts scatter. A ruler who puts Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue) into practice throughout the world, and who upholds the people through De, builds an achievement that is deep and firm. The myriad regions turn their hearts toward him, and so his descendants can continue to offer sacrifices to their ancestors over generations.

Here, "sacrifice" (jisi) refers to later descendants presenting offerings to their ancestors and performing rites of reverence. "Ceasing" (chuo) means to stop.

Ji means offering sacrificial gifts to one's ancestors. Passing the sacrificial rites down to later generations is called si, referring to descendants performing ritual offerings to their ancestors. Chuo means "to cease." The annotation states that one who teaches the people through virtue and assists the ruler, whose achievements reach later generations, is still cherished by the people, who preserve the sweet pear tree (gantang) under which he once rested. How much more, then, would his descendants be cherished? For this reason, a sovereign regards those with merit as zu (progenitors) and those with virtue as zong (lineage ancestors). When the Zhou dynasty arose, it began with Houji and was brought to completion by King Wen and King Wu. In Zhou sacrifices, Houji was honored in the suburban rites, and King Wen was honored in the ancestral temple. Thus, although divination originally predicted that the Zhou house would pass down thirty generations and rule for seven hundred years, and although the ancestral tablets later lost from the temple were scattered, the rites honoring Houji and King Wen were never interrupted.

Cultivating and practicing the Dao (the Way) within oneself, one's De (Virtue) becomes genuine and pure.

The Shu (commentary) says that from this point the text describes the scope of cultivating the Dao expanding from small to large, with the benefits increasing accordingly. "Cultivating it in the person" refers to an individual cultivating the Dao, and "cultivating it in the family" refers to a household doing so. Beginning with the individual and extending to the whole world, the other levels may be understood in the same way. One who is skilled at establishing himself can perceive his true nature. When the true nature is pure and still, it is free of falsehood and stray thoughts. Once these are removed, Virtue becomes genuine and pure.

Cultivating and practicing the Dao within the family, one's Virtue will have a surplus.

The Shu says that cultivating the Dao at home, with harmony between elders and juniors, extends the work of self-cultivation into the household, and Virtue then brings additional blessings. The Yijing (Book of Changes) says: "A house that accumulates goodness will surely have a surplus of blessings."

Cultivating and practicing the Dao within the village, one's Virtue will grow lastingly.

The Shu says that according to the Zhouli (Rites of Zhou), two thousand five hundred households make up one village. When everyone in a village cultivates the Dao, ritual propriety flourishes, respect and humility are properly ordered, neighbors live in harmony, and no one shows partiality toward kin. If only one family cultivates the Dao, its influence on Virtue is not yet broad. When an entire village cultivates it, Virtue can grow lastingly.

Cultivating and practicing the Dao within the state, one's Virtue will become abundant and vast.

The Shu says that when the Dao is promoted throughout the state, local customs change and popular mores are transformed, returning people to sincerity and simplicity, free of favoritism toward those close to them. If only one village cultivates the Dao, it has not yet reached the whole realm. When the entire state cultivates it, Virtue becomes abundant and vast.

Cultivating and practicing the Dao throughout the world, one's Virtue will extend universally to all people.

To bring the people under heaven to simplicity and sincerity (dunhou) depends on the ruler's moral transformation (jiaohua). When a ruler cultivates himself within the court and lets his virtue (De) spread to the four quarters, this does not mean that every person in the realm must practice cultivation together. Rather, the ruler first rectifies himself. He can move the common people without persuading them with words, and he can bring the society to order without issuing elaborate decrees. The people respond to their ruler as an echo responds to a sound. Only when this transforming influence reaches everywhere can it be called "universal" (pu).

"Observing the body through the body" (yi shen guan shen) means using the methods of self-cultivation to examine one's own self. "Guan" means to illuminate and scrutinize. The commentary says that when one examines the true condition of oneself, one finds that the self is originally pure and still (qingjing), unstained by worldly thoughts and defilements. After removing all attachments, one must also let go of attachment to "emptiness" (kong), abandoning both existence and emptiness and returning to the Middle Way (zhongdao). Only then is one pure and in accord with the true Dao.

"Observing the family through the family" (yi jia guan jia) means using the principles of managing a household to examine the household. When the members of a family live in harmony, the household will enjoy abundant blessings and good fortune.

"Observing the village through the village" (yi xiang guan xiang) means using the principles of governing a village to examine the village. When the villagers all follow the Dao and each person keeps his proper order according to status, age, and generation, the transforming influence of the Dao will gradually expand, and its grace will endure for a long time.

"Observing the state through the state" (yi guo guan guo) means using the principles of governing a state to examine the state. When all the people of the realm follow the Dao, work diligently, and live frugally, their virtue will grow richer with each passing day.

"Observing the realm through the realm" (yi tianxia guan tianxia): what more is there to observe? In the end, it still comes down to observing oneself. When the ruler maintains stillness and wuwei, transforms the realm through the Dao, excels at establishing undertakings and preserving the root, the people will naturally turn to him, the state will be secure, the people will live in peace, and the fortunes of the nation will flourish.

"How do I know that the realm will be like this? By this principle."

One whose virtue is deep and whose inner nature nourishes the Dao (Dào) is like a newborn infant. The Dao protects him from within, and spirits (shén) guard him from without. The infant is used here as a metaphor because its heart has no distinctions and harbors no intention to harm others.

Poisonous insects will not sting him, fierce beasts will not pounce on or crush him, and ferocious birds will not swoop down upon him. The poisonous insects mentioned in the Shu commentary include bees, scorpions, and their kind. The fierce beasts include tigers, rhinoceroses, and their kind. The ferocious birds include eagles, hawks, and their kind. The "sting" (chī) in Qu's annotation refers to stinging with the tail tip.

This chapter continues from the preceding text and explains how one who cultivates De (Dé) can preserve harmonious Qi (qì) and remain unharmed. The opening lines explain why profound De is not injured. The lines beginning with "bones are weak" explain why preserving harmonious Qi keeps one from becoming hoarse. One who understands how to regulate the breath attains clarity, whereas forcibly driving the breath makes one rigid and violent. The later text goes further in admonishing those who act aggressively not to behave in this way.

Tang Xuanzong Yuzhi Daode Zhenjing Shu (Commentary on the True Classic of the Way and Virtue, Composed by Emperor Xuanzong of Tang)

Commentary: This passage explains how the Perfected Person (zhìrén), one whose De (virtue) has reached the highest attainment, preserves that virtue. "Poisonous insects" refers to bees, scorpions, and the like. "Fierce beasts" refers to tigers, rhinoceroses, and the like. "Jué birds" refers to apes and monkeys, and "yīngzhān" refers to hawks and falcons. "Shì" (to sting) means striking with the tip of the tail and injecting poison. "Jù" means pressing down with the foot, and "bó" means seizing with the claws. The Perfected Person's inner De is complete and his harmonious Qi (vital energy) is abundant. His mind accords with the Dao (the Way), so poisonous insects cannot sting him, fierce beasts cannot trample him, and savage birds cannot seize him. This is because his harmony is utmost and his virtue profound.

The bones are weak and the sinews soft, yet the grip is firm.

Commentary: The following explains how an infant maintains harmonious Qi. An infant's bones are weak and its sinews soft, so it should have no strength to grasp, yet its grip is tight. Is this not because its harmonious Qi has not dispersed?

It does not yet know the union of female and male, yet its vital root stirs. This is the utmost in Jing (essence).

Commentary: The female is called pìn and the male mǔ. "Jùn" refers to the root of Qi and life. The infant has no desire in its heart and does not yet understand the union of female and male, yet the root of its Qi is active. Is this not because its essence and Qi are pure?

It cries all day without becoming hoarse. This is the utmost in harmony.

Commentary: "Shà" means hoarseness. An infant cries all day, yet its voice does not grow hoarse. Is this not because its harmonious Qi is supremely rich and pure?

To know harmony is called the constant,

Commentary: This line sums up the principle that an infant's harmonious Qi is pure, so that it can cry without losing its voice. It extends this principle to cultivation. If a person can, like an infant, understand the principle of softness and harmony, and persist in cultivating it without letting it be lost, this is called knowing the constant, that is, the eternal and unchanging Dao.

To know the constant is called clarity.

Commentary: If a person knows the constant Dao and can nourish essence and Qi, this is called clarity. One who understands both harmony and the constant praises this fine accord with the Dao. But if one instead increases desires and depletes essence, one violates the principle of cultivating without loss, and then one cannot be said to know the constant Dao.

Commentary: If a person understands the constant Dao (dao) and is able to preserve jing (essence) and qi (vital energy), they may be called clear-sighted. One who awakens to the Dao understands harmony and constancy and praises the beauty of those who share the same De (virtue). Conversely, to crave more life and to drive one's jing and qi is to point out the fault of having lost the Dao.

Yi sheng yue xiang (Seeking to add to life is called ominous).

Commentary: "Xiang" (ominous) refers to a sign that misfortune is approaching. If a person cannot maintain harmony and the constant Dao, but pursues benefits beyond their proper share, they do not realize that seeking extra gain brings more desire. Gain pursued beyond its limit becomes instead a sign of calamity. For this reason the Zhuangzi says: "Follow what is natural, and do not deliberately add to your life."

Xin shi qi yue qiang (To make the heart command the qi is called forcefulness).

Commentary: The heart distinguishes right from wrong, but qi itself makes no such distinction. Therefore, when qi is allowed to move naturally, it becomes gentle, while deliberately using the heart to drive qi makes it rigid. Now, people who have lost the Dao and crave more use their minds to command jing and qi, so that qi is governed by intention. This is called forcefulness. Thus the Zhuangzi says: "Do not listen with the heart, but listen with the qi."

Wu zhuang ze lao, shi wei bu dao, bu dao zao yi (When things grow strong they age; this is called not being in accord with the Dao, and what is not in accord with the Dao ends early).

Commentary: This passage explains the fault of acting with force and turning away from the Dao. "Zhuang" (strong) means rigid and unyielding, and "lao" (aged) means weakened and exhausted. Things that reach their peak begin to decline, so that a thing at the height of its strength is already on the way to aging. Those who deliberately use the heart to command jing and qi and display their strength bring about their own aging. This is called not being in accord with the Dao. The Dao values softness, yet these people rely on strength. Since this contradicts the Dao, they should stop such practices at once.

Chapter 56: Zhi Zhe Bu Yan (The Knower Does Not Speak)

The previous chapter explained that one of profound De knows how to harmonize and does not harm the self. This chapter explains that one who awakens to the Dao understands the limits of speech and does not cling to words. The opening two lines point out that once understanding is thorough, speech can be set aside. The seven lines that follow describe a heart kept pure and untainted by the dust of the world. The lines beginning with "this is called" explain that one who is untainted shares the same De as the profound Dao. The lines beginning with "therefore it cannot be" explain that one who shares the same De with the Dao is not moved by either slander or praise.

Zhi zhe bu yan, yan zhe bu zhi (The one who knows does not speak; the one who speaks does not know).

“Knowing” (zhi) means to understand and comprehend; “speaking” (yan) means to argue and express. The supreme principles are subtle and profound. Although words can be used to explain them, once one truly grasps the Way, one ultimately transcends language and is no longer bound by words. Thus, one who truly comprehends understands the Way without clinging to speech; one who remains fixed on words is easily bound by them and so cannot attain understanding. Hence the saying: “The one who knows does not speak; the one who speaks does not know.”

“Block the openings, shut the doors” can be understood this way: not clinging to words and expression, and not allowing reputation, honor, or disgrace to stir one’s heart. “Openings” (dui) refers to the sense organs or the gateways of speech; “block the openings, shut the doors” here means restraining the pursuit of external things so that the mind is not disturbed by speech or by honor and disgrace.

The four phrases “blunt the sharpness, untangle the knots, soften the light, merge with the dust” have already appeared in the earlier scripture. The earlier passage discusses them in terms of the Dao and its function, while here they are explained in terms of human cultivation and conduct. The two passages complement each other, both concerned with self-cultivation and with benefiting the world.

This is what is called “profound identity” (xuantong), union with the deep and subtle Dao. The one who embodies the Dao is not bound by doctrinal teaching or by words, yet can also conceal sharpness and merge into the world. Their words and conduct accord with the Dao, and this is called sharing the virtue of the “profound.”

Therefore, others can neither deliberately draw close to them and become intimate, nor distance themselves and reject them. Having no partiality in their hearts, they can follow the currents of worldly feeling, and so they are not easily alienated.

Nor can others take advantage of them to gain benefit, or harm them. Being serene and free of desire, they do not contend with others for gain; and because they occupy a position of non-contention, they are likewise difficult to injure.

Commentary on the Scripture of the Dao and De (Daode Zhenjing) Composed by Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang, Scroll Eight

Chapter Fifty-Seven: Governing the State through Political Means

The preceding chapter discussed how an adept who has grasped the Dao (the Way) understands the limits of language and does not cling to words. This chapter discusses how a ruler who governs the state without wuwei (non-action) cannot allow the myriad things to transform naturally. The opening three lines state the central theme. The next ten lines use rhetorical questions to clarify the principle, and the final five lines explain how one may win the realm through affairs of non-action.

"Governing the state through political measures,"

Commentary: The three lines above together state the central theme. "Through" (yi) means to employ, and "political measures" refers to administrative decrees and moral instruction. If a ruler relies on decrees and instruction to bring order to the state, he cannot practice non-action, and so he cannot let the myriad things respond to their own nature and transform on their own. Governing in this way has never been known to succeed since antiquity.

"Waging war through deceit,"

Commentary: "Strange" (qi) means cunning and shifting deception. Weapons are inauspicious instruments, and the gentleman dislikes them. How much more so when one wages war under the pretext of deceit and without restraint. War is like fire: if it is not extinguished in time, it will eventually burn the one who kindles it. Therefore, waging war through cunning and tactical change is not the way to victory.

"Winning the realm through non-action and non-disturbance."

Commentary: "Winning the realm through non-affairs" is also a statement of the central theme. War is like fire: if it is not extinguished in time, it will eventually burn the one who kindles it. Therefore, waging war through cunning and tactical change is not the way to victory.

Commentary: This passage also explains that when a ruler who embodies the Dao (the Way) governs through wuwei (non-action), affairs of state are not troubled, the common people are able to transform themselves, and the realm is at peace.

How can I know that the realm will be like this? Because of the principles that follow.

Commentary: This raises a question. "Like this" refers to the situation described above, and "because of these" is the answer. Lord Lao (Laozi) pushes the question further: how can I know that governing the realm requires few affairs and wuwei? The cases listed below serve as the proof. The more prohibitions there are in the realm, the poorer the people become. When the ruler practices wuwei, the people can transform themselves.

When there are more prohibitions in the realm, the people become poorer.

Commentary: This further explains how to govern a state. If the ruler cannot transform the people through a style of purity, stillness, and sincerity, and does not handle affairs in a simple and plain manner, but instead makes decrees complicated and the net of law dense, then the people will be at a loss. They will be busy avoiding the many prohibitions and unable to make a living in peace, and they will grow ever more impoverished.

When the people have more sharp instruments, the state becomes more chaotic.

Commentary: This explains the earlier statement about using extraordinary methods in warfare. "Sharp instruments" refers to schemes of strategy and cunning (quanmou zhi shu). Such stratagems should be used according to circumstances and only when there is no other choice. If the ruler constantly employs cunning and cannot return to simplicity, the ministers and subjects will respond with deceit, and the state will fall into even greater disorder.

When the people have more skills and cleverness (jiqiao), more curious objects appear.

Commentary: "Ji" means skill, and "qiao" means craftsmanship. "Curious objects" refers to carved and decorated treasures and playthings of that kind. When the ruler does not esteem simplicity but favors ornament, the people will imitate their superiors, pursue luxury and splendor, and compete in decoration, so that curious and elaborate objects multiply day by day.

When decrees and laws are more numerous and more strictly enforced, there are more bandits and thieves.

Fa refers to punishment, and ling refers to governmental decree. When a ruler cannot reduce his desires and govern by setting an example himself, but instead tries to use strict laws and decrees to make all things uniform, the people seek only to avoid punishment and feel no shame in their hearts. Officials take advantage of the situation to steal and commit wrongdoing. Superiors and subordinates deceive one another, and so bandits grow ever more numerous.

Therefore the sage says: "I practice wuwei (non-action), and the people transform themselves naturally."

Shu (commentary): This explains the meaning of governing all under heaven through wuwei. "I" refers to the sage. The sage's virtue does not prize cleverness, and the ruler who has embodied the Dao (the Way) values wuwei above all. Wuwei does not mean forcing actions deliberately, nor does it mean setting up prohibitions of every kind. The common people, moved by the ruler's virtue of non-action, transform themselves naturally.

"I do not disturb the people, and the people become prosperous of their own accord."

Shu: Above, no heavy taxes are levied, and below, the people are not troubled. They plow their fields and dig their wells, every household has a secure livelihood, and everyone has enough food and clothing. Therefore it is said that the people become prosperous of their own accord.

"I love stillness, and the people become upright of their own accord."

Shu: At birth, a person's nature is originally still, and this is the nature heaven bestows. When the ruler loves tranquility and stability, and does not disturb the people with decrees or actions, the people are moved by the ruler's virtue (De), follow their original nature, and naturally become upright.

"I have no greed, and the people become simple and genuine of their own accord."

Shu: If the ruler can inwardly preserve humility and stillness, and outwardly has no excessive craving or scheming, the people are moved by his example and naturally become sincere, plain, and honest.

Chapter Fifty-Eight: Qi Zheng Men Men (Its Government Is Murky)

The previous chapter explained that when a ruler who governs all under heaven goes against wuwei, the people cannot transform themselves naturally. This chapter explains that improper government inevitably leads to decline, and it identifies where misfortune and fortune come from. It opens by setting out two different styles of government: lenient and harsh. It then explains that fortune and misfortune depend on each other and transform in unpredictable ways. Next it laments that people are often confused and attached to their views. Finally, it urges people to cultivate the virtue of the sage.

"When government is lenient and murky, the people become simple and sincere."

Shu: Menmen (murky) describes a state without calculation, broad and unhurried. Chunchun (simple and sincere) describes a state of plainness and honesty. This means that when a ruler practicing wuwei governs with leniency and lets all things grow according to their nature, without harsh or brutal methods, the people's customs become sincere and genuine.

"Where governance is lenient and sincere, the people become simple and honest." This means that a ruler who practices wuwei (non-action) governs with leniency, letting all things grow in their natural course without harsh or cruel measures, so the people's customs are pure and sincere.

"Where governance is strict and exacting, the people become worn down and scattered."

The commentary explains that "chacha" (cha cha) describes governing with extreme activity and severity, and "queque" (que que) describes a state of exhaustion and dispersal. A ruler who acts purposefully governs harshly, restraining the people with laws. As the laws multiply, thieves multiply with them, and the people are worn down and scattered.

"Misfortune, ah, is where fortune leans upon; fortune, ah, is where misfortune lies hidden. Who can know where these changes will finally lead?"

The commentary explains that fortune leaning upon misfortune refers to the lenient, non-acting government described earlier. The world thinks it bad, yet the people become sincere and simple. Is this not fortune arising out of misfortune? Misfortune hidden within fortune refers to the word "fu" (fu), which means to conceal. Strict and minute decrees, which the world takes to be good, leave the people worn down and distressed. Is this not calamity concealed within fortune? As for "who can know where they will finally change," this means that when people lose the Dao and forfeit De, become accustomed to falsehood, and prize ostentation, fortune and misfortune turn into one another in a cycle, depending on each other with no fixed point. Who can foresee their end?

"Is there, then, no fixed standard for fortune and misfortune?"

The commentary explains that this question asks whether the transformations of fortune and misfortune have no settled pattern. It is only because people cannot realize the Dao or accord with wuwei, and instead give rise to delusion and attachment, that they lose recognition of the right Way.

"The right Way is instead regarded as strange and deceptive, and good conduct is instead regarded as monstrous and aberrant."

The commentary explains why people lose the right Way. Beings do not understand the true nature of fortune, misfortune, and the right Way, so they take the right Way for trickery and good conduct for the omens of portents. For this reason, people feel as if there were no right Way at all.

"The people have been lost from the right Way for a very long time."

The commentary laments that beings lose the right Way and good conduct, viewing the right Way as strange and good conduct as aberrant. This loss has been in place for a long time, which is why the text says "a very long time."

Therefore, the sage (shengren) is upright and square, yet does not use this uprightness to injure others.

Uprightness (duan zheng): This passage describes the sage's virtue as a way of exhorting people to cultivate themselves. The sage broadens the Dao (dao, the Way) and relieves the suffering of the world, so all things turn toward the right path. When the sage conducts himself uprightly, the myriad things are moved by his example and naturally return to rectitude. This does not depend on setting up rules or dividing things up to force them to comply with him.

Purity without Defilement (lian er bu wu zhuo): The sage follows his original nature, keeps himself pure, and is naturally able to transform the common people, turning turbidity into clarity. Here "lian" means purity, and "hui" means defilement. The Shuwen (sub-commentary) adds that "ju" carries the sense of harm: the sage completes his De (de, virtue or power) through purity, yet does not harm the myriad things.

Rectitude without License (duan zhi er bu fang zong): The sage's conduct is not crooked, so others naturally follow him and become upright. He does not, because others are not upright, deliberately display his own straightness in order to correct or suppress them.

Brightness without Display (ming liang er bu xuan yao): Here "guang" refers to wisdom. Though the sage possesses wisdom, he knows how to restrain his sharpness and not make a show of it. Therefore the common people also receive instruction and become simple and sincere.

Chapter 59: Governing People and Serving Heaven (Zhi Ren Shi Tian)

The previous chapter discussed governing through wuwei (non-action), which returns people to simplicity and peace. This chapter addresses governing the people and serving Heaven, and holds that the key lies in frugality. The opening states that in governing the people and serving Heaven, nothing is more vital than "se" (frugality, or conservation). It then uses the image of deep roots to explain the way of lasting endurance.

In governing the people and serving Heaven, nothing is more important than frugality.

"Se" means to cherish and economize. When a ruler governs, teaches the people, and serves Heaven, the cultivation of virtue should begin with frugality. Using resources sparingly and without waste keeps goods sufficient for needs and also gathers the people around the ruler. When the grain and other offerings for sacrifice are abundant and complete, one honors Heaven with clarified De. This is why it is said that nothing is more important than frugality.

To be frugal and sparing is called early submission (zao fu).

Here, wei, which opens the sentence, is a particle of tone. Fu means to serve or to submit. A ruler who is frugal governs human affairs economically and reveres Heaven, so the common people will also submit early and serve him. The seven layers of meaning discussed below all follow this interpretation.

When the common people submit early, this is called the continual accumulation of De (Virtue/Power).

Why do the people admire the teaching and turn toward benevolent virtue? Because the ruler's conduct is restrained and frugal. Frugality brings the people to early submission, and this is precisely the result of continually accumulating De.

When De is continually accumulated, nothing cannot be overcome.

Ke means "to be able to." If the ruler deeply accumulates De, then in governing he preserves the strength of the people, and in serving Heaven his undertakings prosper. In this way the four quarters all turn toward his teaching, and there is nothing he cannot subdue.

Since nothing cannot be subdued, no one can know its limit.

Because the ruler's De can subdue every direction, regions with different customs admire his teaching, and remote frontier lands come to observe his manner. There is no distant place it does not reach. Thus the four quarters transform and submit, and since nothing cannot be subdued, its extent is difficult to know.

Since nothing cannot be subdued, no one can know its limit.

The ruler's De brings all regions into submission. Regions of differing customs admire his teaching, and remote frontiers come to observe his manner. There is no far place it fails to reach, so its influence has no exhaustion.

Since its influence has no exhaustion, one may possess the state (you guo).

The ruler's transforming virtue reaches every distance, the common people are all willing to submit, and they receive the blessings of the spirits (shen). Only then can one truly be said to possess the state. The Classic of Changes (Yi) says, "Wang jia you miao you jia," which describes exactly this condition. Without these conditions, how could one be called one who possesses the state?

The root of possessing the state is that it can endure long.

Mu (mother) refers to Dao (the Way), here taken in the sense of nurturing and sustaining. A ruler can possess the state because he follows the Dao and nurtures the people. Only then does his good fortune flourish over a long span, and the state endures.

This is called the way of deep roots and firm foundations, and of changsheng jiushi (long life and enduring vision). Changsheng jiushi means to remain alive for a long time and to keep one's vitality enduring.

The Commentary says: A ruler who accumulates De (Virtue) and governs the state through the Dao (the Way) will keep the state secure and enduring. For this reason, the image of tree roots and flower stalks is used to explain the principle. The di (flower base) is the base that supports a blossom. When the roots of plants and trees run deep, their branches and leaves flourish. When the flower base is firm, the blossom does not easily fall, and so it lasts. By this analogy to a ruler who accumulates De, one roots oneself in the Dao, fastens one's blossom firmly to De, and extends one's life. This is the way of changsheng jiushi (long life and enduring vision).

Chapter Sixty: Governing a Great State

The previous chapter explained that a ruler who is frugal and loves the people will win the early submission of the regions beneath heaven. This chapter goes further. Once people have submitted early, if the ruler does not disturb them, the De of the realm will naturally gather and attach itself to the ruler. The chapter opens with the image of governing a great state to show that one should not act rashly. It then describes how De reaches even the ghosts and spirits, so that neither people nor spirits are harmed. Finally, it praises how De draws people's hearts together, and uses this to encourage the rulers of states.

"Governing a great state is like cooking a small fish."

The Commentary says: This is a metaphor. Xiao xian (small fish) refers to small fish. When cooking a small fish, one should not turn it often, or it will fall apart. Governing a great state is the same. One must not issue harsh and excessive decrees, because too many commands will throw the people's hearts into confusion. Therefore, one must accord with the Dao in order to govern successfully.

"Ruling the world with the Dao, its ghosts do not manifest spiritual power."

The Commentary says: Yi means to use, and li means to face or to govern. A spirit-body that dwells in the netherworld after death is called guishen (ghosts and spirits). When such a being manifests efficacy, it is called shen (spirit). When people make requests, ghosts and spirits respond. If the ruler now teaches the realm with lofty De and keeps the people's lives secure, then people will not only forget that this is the ruler's accomplishment, but will also stop praying to ghosts and spirits. In this way, the ghosts dwelling in the netherworld have no opportunity to manifest their efficacy.

"It is not that its ghosts lack spiritual power, but that its spirits do not harm the people."

The commentary further explains the meaning of "spirits do not harm people." It does not mean that spirits lack efficacy or have ceased to manifest. Rather, uncanny events arise when people's conduct goes astray. If people constantly hold fast to their constant Virtue (De), spirits will not manifest strange events to harm them. The Chunqiu (Spring and Autumn Annals) says: "When its flames blaze fiercely, one takes and uses it."

"Spirits do not harm people" does not mean only that spirits have no efficacy and cannot injure anyone. Sages do not harm people either. The sage governs the world by the Way (Dao), does not act recklessly, does not disturb the people, and so the common folk naturally become upright. The commentary repeatedly states that "the sage also does not harm people" in order to highlight the sage's Virtue.

When sages and spirits both refrain from harming people, the common people are not disturbed and each returns to the right path. This is what is meant by "Virtue converges and returns there" (de jiao gui yan): the virtue of both parties gathers and returns to the world. The "two" mentioned here are the sage and the spirits. The common people are the foundation of the state and also the basis on which spirits depend. If spirits harmed the people, they would damage the foundation of the state. If the sage harmed the people, the spirits would lose their support. Now that both refrain from harming people, their Virtue flows together and reaches the whole world. The benefit is not received by the sage and the spirits alone; the common people, too, are all sheltered.

Chapter 61: The Great State Lies Downstream

The previous chapter explained that when the sage governs by the Way, Virtue converges and returns to the world. This chapter explains that when one treats others with the humble Virtue of lowliness, all things turn toward yielding. The chapter first points out that a great state should be humble, and therefore is able to unify and transform the world. It then explains that large and small states each obtain what they seek. Finally, it especially admonishes great states to be all the more humble.

A great state is like the lower reaches of a river, the place where the waters of the world converge.

Rivers and seas lie below the many streams, and all hundred rivers flow into them, so they are called the "lower reaches." Applied to human relations, this principle becomes the virtue of humility. When a ruler possesses the Dao (Dào, the Way), the state can be preserved; when a ruler lacks De (Dé, Virtue/Power), the people will scatter. Therefore, the ruler of a great state should be humble and inclusive, so that all people under heaven come to gather around him, and in this way the great state can be preserved. Hence it is said: "A great state dwelling in the lower reaches becomes the meeting place of all under heaven."

The place where all under heaven meet is like the female; the female always overcomes the male through stillness.

The commentary says that "the meeting of all under heaven" follows from the preceding text and serves to explain the principle of the "lower reaches." The reason all under heaven come together is that the great state is humble and places itself low. This is like the female, who constantly keeps still while the male is instead drawn to her. Hence it is said that the female overcomes the male through stillness.

Take stillness as the means of placing oneself low.

The commentary says that the earlier statement that all under heaven gather is because the ruler practices the Way of humility. This is like the female overcoming the male through stillness; the reason lies in stillness and lowliness.

Therefore, when a great state treats a small state with humility, it wins the allegiance of the small state.

The commentary says that the "therefore" here follows from the preceding text and explains the principle stated earlier. The ruler of the great state does not rely on force to assert dominance. Through the virtue of humility, he wins the submission of the small state, and the ruler of the small state willingly comes to submit, leading his own people to become subjects of the great state.

When a small state treats a great state with humility, it is received and protected by the great state.

The commentary says that once the ruler of the great state has subdued the small states through the Way of humility, the small state's ruler maintains ritual exchanges, such as court visits and covenant gatherings, and does not dare to defy it. They serve the great state with lowly courtesy, hoping to obtain its support and protection and to borrow its prestige and strength.

Thus, sometimes it is the great state that, by humbling itself, wins the allegiance of the small; sometimes it is the small state that, by humbling itself, is received by the great.

The Spring and Autumn Annals says: "When the armies of the feudal lords obey the summons of a great state, this is called yi (to submit)." When a small state submits to a great one with humility, it receives the great state's support, but it cannot direct the great state at will, so the text says er qu (to take and to be taken). When a great state receives a small one with humility, the small state can be made to follow its arrangements, so the text says yi qu (to take by submission).

What a great state seeks is no more than to unite and nourish the people of the small states; what a small state seeks is no more than to submit and serve the great one. When the great state wishes to receive the small state and the small state wishes to rely on the great one, both obtain what they desire. For this reason, the great state should be especially humble. Among things, there is no principle by which the small slights the great, but it is common for the great to overwhelm the small. If a ruler of a great state is arrogant and self-satisfied, he is likely to bring disaster upon himself. Yet humility is not easy to maintain, so the text here warns that the great state must be especially modest.

Chapter Sixty-Two: The Dao (the Way) Is the Hidden Sanctuary of the Myriad Things

The previous chapter explained that treating others with De (Virtue/Power) and humility allows both large and small states to obtain what they desire. This chapter explains that the Dao (the Way) transforms the myriad things, so that both the good and the wicked receive help from the Dao. The chapter first describes the profound substance of the Dao, then explains how the Dao is used to establish teaching and transform people, and finally praises the function of the Dao to show that it deserves reverence.

The Dao is the hidden refuge where the myriad things ultimately return.

The Dao is the name we reluctantly give to that subtle and fundamental source. "Ao" (inner depths) means the deep interior. The Dao encompasses everything, and nothing lies outside it. It is the root from which all things begin, so it is called the innermost depth of all things. The Xisheng Jing says, "The Dao is profound and secluded, the abyss of emptiness and non-being." This is the meaning intended here.

Those who are good at practicing the Dao treasure it as a precious jewel.

Here "bao" (treasure) means a valuable treasure. "Good people" (shanren) are those who have awakened to the great Dao, who follow wuwei (non-action), and whose body and mind are pure and still. They value the Dao and are unwilling to turn away from it even for a moment.

Those who are not good also have something to rely on.

"Bao" here carries the sense of bearing responsibility or depending on something. Even people who are not good still possess the ability to distinguish right from wrong. Because of long-standing habits, however, they usually neglect the great Dao in ordinary times. When they meet difficulties, they turn to the Dao, rely on it, and through it seek peace and security.

Beautiful words can be used to attract people, and lofty conduct can be used to influence others.

This is a metaphorical statement. It means that even those who are not good can be taught and transformed. Sweet and pleasing words can draw crowds, and noble conduct can move others. The sage conveys the sweet truths of the Dao through speech and sets an example through pure and elevated conduct. In this way the sage teaches those who are not good, much as a marketplace gathers a crowd, so that people one after another turn toward the good Way. Therefore the scripture continues:

What reason is there to abandon someone who is not good?

When a person's words and conduct are not good, how could one simply cast that person aside? One should guide them with the way of goodness, hoping they will be moved, correct their faults, and not give up on teaching them. That is why the text says, "What reason is there to abandon them?"

Therefore the Son of Heaven (tianzi) is established, and the Three Dukes (sangong) are appointed.

The Three Dukes refer to the Grand Preceptor (taishi), the Grand Mentor (taifu), and the Grand Guardian (taibao). The Son of Heaven practices wuwei, and the Three Dukes assist him by discussing the Dao and teaching, all in order to display and spread transformation, so that those who are not good may be moved. The Shangshu (Book of Documents) says, "The affairs of Heaven are carried out by human beings." This is the meaning intended here.

The jade disc of an embrace's breadth, together with a team of four fine horses offered as tribute, would still fall short of sitting upright to receive and present this Dao (dào).

The commentary explains that "a disc as wide as an embrace" is a very large jade disc, and "a team of four horses" refers to four fine steeds. When the three dukes assist the ruler, even presenting precious jade and fine horses to the Supreme Lord is not truly valuable. It is better to offer the Dao of non-action (wúwéi), which leads people to abandon evil and follow the good. In ancient times, when one visited the court or sent an envoy, the jade disc was first used to lead the fine horses forward as an offering, which is why the text uses the word "first" (xiān). The Spring and Autumn Annals phrase "four hides and twelve oxen sent ahead" describes the same kind of ritual, in which gifts go first and oxen and sheep follow to reward the troops.

Why, then, did the ancients value this Dao?

The commentary says that this passage cites the ancients to explain present principles so that people will believe them. The "ancients" here refer to the virtuous people mentioned earlier who prized the Dao. The scripture is asking why they treasured it so deeply.

Is it because the Dao can be attained without a long wait, or because one can be absolved of guilt through it? For this reason, the Dao is treasured throughout the world.

The commentary explains that this passage states the reason people treasure the Dao. "Attainable without a long wait" means that attaining the Dao depends on awakening, and awakening depends on understanding one's original mind. This differs from conditioned methods (yǒuwéi zhī fǎ), which require counting days and years and laborious striving. Once the mind is clarified and desires are restrained, the pure original state naturally appears. "Absolved of guilt" means that when deluded thoughts arise, the mind becomes defiled and karmic burdens follow. If one realizes the Great Dao and keeps the mind empty and still, the root of transgression naturally dissolves. This does not mean that one should, like those who cling to delusion and never awaken, first accumulate karma and suffer punishment and only then seek release. Therefore, the Dao is treasured by the good people of the world.

Chapter Sixty-Three: Acting Through Non-Action (Wéi Wú Wéi)

The previous chapter explained that the Great Dao is profound and subtle, and that sitting upright to present the Dao is an important way of assisting the ruler. This chapter turns to pure stillness and non-action as a practice for cultivating the Dao and realizing it, bringing an end to resentment and contention. The opening first proposes "sitting in forgetfulness" (zuòwàng) and cutting off desire. It then explains the need to block evil thoughts and prevent wrongdoing from arising. The later passages cite the virtues of the sages to further encourage people to practice this teaching.

Act through non-action, handle affairs without interference, and savor things with a tranquil, detached mind. Regard the great as small and the many as few. When others meet you with resentment, respond with kindness.

"Wei" (wei) means to fashion or to act deliberately. A practitioner who has achieved zuowang (zuo wang, "sitting and forgetting," the state of forgetting one's body, mind, and external things while sitting in meditation) removes desire and no longer forces things. Their actions can be remarkably effective yet blend with natural transformation, leaving no trace of human effort. Thus, it may be said that they act, yet it is as though they do not act. This is called wuwei (wu wei, non-action).

This level concerns the mind. One engages in affairs without clinging to them, so although one is in the midst of tasks, the mind is not held back by them. It also concerns the body. One tastes flavors without craving them, so although one savors something, the mind does not become absorbed in the taste. It further concerns the mouth. One is not led by the desires of the palate. When the three ye (san ye, the three karmic activities of body, speech, and mind, meaning the actions produced by the body, words, and thoughts) all come to rest, the six gen (liu gen, the six sense faculties of eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind) no longer disturb the heart-mind when they encounter external objects.

As for all manner of deliberate action, whether great or small, many or few, once one falls into the state of intentional fashioning, resentment and conflict are easily provoked. If one comprehends non-action, lets go of greed, realizes the true principle, and no longer gives rise to calculation or anxiety, then resentment will naturally not arise. This may be called "repaying resentment with virtue" (yi de bao yuan).

To plan for difficult matters, begin with what is easy. To accomplish great matters, begin with what is subtle.

"Tu" (tu) means to plan, and "wei" means to carry out. Harm to life from passions and desires usually accumulates gradually. Things always begin from what is easy and eventually become difficult; they start from what is small and later grow into something great. Therefore, one should plan while matters are still easy, so that one will not fall into trouble later. One should address a sprout while it is still small, so that it will not develop into a major calamity. If one waits until a situation is already difficult before responding, or seeks a remedy only after disorder has formed, then even the most elaborate planning and action will struggle to repair the damage.

The difficult matters under Heaven must begin from what is easy; the great matters under Heaven must arise from what is subtle.

"Zuo" (zuo) means to arise. This continues the preceding passage and explains where disasters and difficulties originate. Difficult matters begin from what is easy, so one should plan while things are still easy. Great matters arise from what is subtle, so one should eliminate them promptly while the sprouts are still small. Similar cases are too numerous to list one by one, so "under Heaven" is used to summarize them.

Therefore, the sage never deliberately tries to accomplish so-called great deeds, and yet is able to achieve what is truly great.

When things are settled and calm, they are easy to maintain. Before change has shown any sign of emerging, they are also easy to plan for and respond to.

Commentary (shu): Here "an" means tranquil and stillness, and "chi" means to guard, keep, and hold fast. When a person first receives life, their original nature is pure and still. Once stirred by external things, they readily chase after desires without end. When the mind has not yet begun to stir with desire and the heart remains quiet, it is very easy to preserve this stillness and keep it from scattering. Hence the saying "qi an yi chi," its tranquility is easy to hold.

"Zhao" (the first sign of a thing, its omen) refers to the moment something has only just begun to appear, and "mou" means to plan and to manage. When desires are about to arise and have not yet shown any sign, one should work to stop them. This is the easiest time to hold fast, which is why it is said that a stable situation is easy to keep in hand.

Before desire has shown any sign, it is easiest to plan and manage it.

Once desire has stirred but is still weak and unfixed, it is comparatively easy to dispel.

When calamity is still minute and has not grown large, it is also easy to guard against it early and let it dissipate.

"Wei" means to cultivate and remove. This sentence explains the principle behind the earlier phrases "easy to hold" and "easy to plan": by cultivating and cutting off desire before it arises, desires and faults will not grow.

"Li" means to govern and put in order. This sentence explains the principle behind the earlier phrases "easy to break" and "easy to disperse": even when desires and faults have already appeared, as long as they are still small and have not brewed into disorder, they are easy to govern.

A tree so large that two arms can encircle it grew from a tiny tender sprout. A nine-tiered terrace was built from basketfuls of earth piled up over time. A journey of a thousand li begins with the first step beneath one's feet. Calamities often grow from subtle beginnings. The great tree grows from a small bud, showing that things arise from their own origins. The terrace is raised basket by basket, showing that things take form through gradual accumulation. The distant journey begins with a step, showing that if action continues without stopping, it will reach far places. All things under heaven begin in what is minute, yet people often overlook these early signs, and in the end let them develop into the roots of disaster. Here three examples are given to illustrate the principle stated above.

Forcing action often brings about failure, and grasping stubbornly in fact loses what one holds.

Attachment to "doing" (wei) and clinging (zhi) invites calamity. Here, "doing" means deliberately striving after goals and presumptuously taking action, while "clinging" means holding fast and refusing to let go. People should guard against trouble before it arises and bring order before chaos sets in. Instead, they strive beyond their own nature and proper station and cling to external worldly things, and in the end they meet with ruin and loss.

Therefore, when the sage practices wuwei (non-action), he does not bring about decay, and when he does not cling, he loses nothing.

The sage remains still and non-acting, content within his proper station, and so he preserves himself and does not decay. His mind is empty and calm and holds no fixations, so his true nature endures and is never lost.

Ordinary people, in their undertakings, often fail just as success comes within reach.

"Ji" (the incipient moment) means "close to." Worldly people who do good works or pursue enterprises often see success almost in hand, yet they fail to remain cautious and persistent to the end, and so their work is ruined again.

To be as careful at the end as at the beginning is to ensure that affairs do not fail.

Here Laozi once more admonishes the world: if one is cautious and consistent from beginning to end, affairs will not be ruined. Thus the Book of Documents (Shangshu) says, "No undertaking lacks a beginning, but few are able to see it through to the end."

Therefore the sage pursues what ordinary people do not pursue and does not prize goods that are hard to obtain.

This passage explains the sage's manner of conduct, distinguishing him from ordinary people. "Goods that are hard to obtain," understood inwardly, are things not originally present in one's nature and station; understood outwardly, they are precious treasures such as pearls and rhinoceros horn. The sage has desires, but he does not chase excessive ones. Inwardly he does not seek what lies beyond his station, and outwardly he does not pursue treasures that harm virtue (de). For this reason he does not value what is hard to obtain.

He learns what ordinary people do not learn, and so restores the multitude to the station from which they have strayed.

Ordinary people, prizing hard-to-obtain goods, force themselves to chase them, flaunt and compete, and learn things that are not originally part of their nature and station. The sage does not pursue learning that exceeds his station; he preserves his natural nature. When the sage speaks of "learning what is not learned," he means simply that he does not pursue excessive learning. By doing so, he aims to lead the multitude back from excessive pursuit to their proper station.

In this way the sage assists the myriad things in developing according to their own nature, and does not dare to act presumptuously.

Those in antiquity who were skilled at following the Dao (the Way) and governing did not seek to make the people clever and cunning. They guided them to remain simple and natural. The “ignorance” mentioned here does not mean keeping the people uninformed; it means urging people to rely less on clever schemes and calculation and to return to simplicity.

The people are difficult to govern because they have too many clever ideas. In Emperor Xuanzong of Tang’s interpretation, this tendency arose because rulers failed to understand the Great Dao yet encouraged the people to use their wits in every situation. Deceit then took root, making governance difficult.

Governing a state through clever schemes brings calamity upon it.

Here, it says: “Thieves” are sources of harm. If a ruler employs ministers skilled in clever schemes and political manipulation to govern the state, intrigue will readily take root, and hypocrisy will follow. Once hypocrisy flourishes, the Dao declines, bringing harm to the state. Such ministers are therefore called “the thieves of the state.”

A state is blessed when it is governed without clever schemes.

If the ruler does not employ those skilled in political manipulation, but instead seeks people of deep and genuine virtue, and has them govern through Wuwei (non-action) and teach the people through simplicity, then those above and below will live in harmony and affairs of state will be peaceful. This is the state’s blessing.

Understanding these two approaches is to grasp the principles of governing a state.

“The two” refers to governing through clever schemes and political manipulation, or governing without them. “Model” means an example; “standard” means a rule. When a ruler understands that employing people who rely on manipulation brings harm, while governing without it brings blessing, the ruler should abandon harm and choose blessing. Understanding this principle makes one a model and standard for governing the state.

To keep this standard constantly in mind is called “mysterious De” (profound and subtle virtue).

If a ruler continually understands the gains and losses of these two approaches and uses that understanding as a guide to governance, the ruler possesses profound and subtle virtue.

Mysterious De is profound and elusive. A ruler who possesses it transforms the people through Wuwei. The depth of this virtue is hard to fathom, and its influence has no bounds. Thus the ruler can lead all things back to their subtle root and ultimately reach a state of accord with nature.

Chapter 66: Rivers and Seas

The previous chapter explained that relying on cleverness brings misfortune and that mysterious De enables all things to accord with nature. This chapter explains that skill in placing oneself below others is what allows one to become their leader. Its central idea is that the sage does not claim credit or consider himself right.

Chapter 66: Rivers and Seas

The previous chapter explained that a fondness for clever schemes brings misfortune and set out the principle of Mysterious De (the profound, natural quality of Virtue) in accord with the Great Dao. This chapter explains how those who are good at placing themselves below others can instead become the leaders of all, bringing to light the Sage’s virtue of non-contention. It opens with the image of rivers and seas to show that the seas become the destination of all streams because they lie below them. It then describes how the Sage treats others with humility, earning their support without wearying them. Finally, it returns to the virtue of non-contention, showing that this is where a student can begin.

The rivers and seas can become the rulers of all streams because they are good at staying low; therefore, all streams flow toward them.

The commentary says that the rivers and seas can gather in the many streams and become their destination because they lie downstream. As the Book of Changes says, “The way of Earth diminishes what is full and sends water toward the humble.” This means that the way of Earth reduces what is overflowing and directs water toward low places. The natural world serves here as a metaphor: Earth lies below, so all streams flow together toward it; the Sage treats others with humility, so the people willingly draw near and give their allegiance, without growing weary of him.

Therefore, if the Sage wishes to stand above the people, he speaks humbly of himself and places himself below them.

The commentary says that this extends the earlier metaphor to the Sage. If the Sage wishes to stand above the people, he uses humble words and places himself below them. Does the Sage really speak humbly on purpose in order to rise above others? No. The Sage understands that arrogance and self-satisfaction inevitably invite loss, so his words are gentle and yielding, and when referring to himself he often uses humble titles such as “orphan” and “widower.” By placing himself below others, the Sage’s great Virtue and achievements naturally earn the people’s respect.

If the Sage wishes to walk ahead of the people, he places himself behind them.

The commentary says that the Sage does not deliberately try to get ahead of others. He humbly puts himself behind and puts others first; the people, in turn, actively choose to place him at the front.

Therefore, though the Sage holds a high position, the people do not feel burdened by him; though he walks ahead of them, they do not consider him harmful.

The commentary says that this sums up what came before. Though the Sage holds the honored position of ruler, he takes on the toil so the people may live at ease; he asks little for himself and gives generously to others. Because he is in a high position, the people can live in peace, so they do not feel burdened by him. Because he walks ahead, the people are well governed, so they do not consider him harmful.

Therefore, people throughout the world are glad to place the Sage at the head, and they never grow weary of him.

The sage’s De is vast and selfless. He helps all things without exception, so that they are as if bathed in the springtime. People look up to the sage as they look up to the sun. He does not exalt himself, so he does not oppress others. People can receive nourishment and life from him, so they do not feel burdened by him. He stands before the people so that they may be well governed, and therefore they do not regard him as harmful.

That is why people throughout the world gladly honor him and never grow weary of it.

The sage’s De is vast and selfless. He helps all things without exception, as if bathing them in the spring breeze. People look up to him as they look up to the sun. He does not exalt himself or use his position above others to oppress them. That is why people throughout the world gladly honor him and never grow weary of it.

The sage does not contend, so no one in the world can contend with him.

People throughout the world gladly honor the sage and never grow weary of it. Is this not because the sage speaks humbly, takes a modest position, and does not strive to be first among all things? For this very reason, no one in the world can strive to surpass him.

Chapter 67: All Under Heaven Say

The previous chapter explained that those who are skilled at taking a humble position can become kings, and took the sage’s virtue of non-contention as its guiding principle. This chapter uses the idea of being “great yet unlike anything” to explain the nature of the Dao. It also presents the Three Treasures—compassion, frugality, and not daring to put oneself first under heaven—and points to the practice of compassion. The first six sentences explain that the Dao is so vast that it appears unlike any concrete thing. The next five discuss the Three Treasures and urge people to practice compassion. The following eight further explain the benefits of practicing compassion and the harm of abandoning it. The final four praise the virtue of compassion.

Everyone under heaven says that my Dao is great, yet it seems unlike anything.

“Like” means resembling or being similar to something. Laozi says that everyone under heaven considers my Dao empty and vast, yet cannot see what it resembles; the text that follows provides the answer.

Precisely because it is vast, it appears unlike any concrete thing. If it resembled some particular thing, it would long ago have become small.

This answers why the Dao appears “unlike anything.” My Dao is boundless and far beyond all things in the world. It cannot be fathomed by the ordinary understanding and feelings of people, so it can be called “great.” If it had a concrete form and resembled ordinary things in the world, it would already have lost the very quality that makes its vastness great and become something fine and limited, unworthy of being called “great.” “Indeed” is simply a particle expressing tone.

I have three treasures, which I must guard well and steadfastly put into practice.

The commentary says: The Dao of the Old Master is vast and formless, seeming unlike the ways of the world. Yet within it are three exceptionally precious treasures. People should guard and practice them, using them to cultivate themselves and govern the state.

The first is compassion, the second is frugality, and the third is not daring to put oneself ahead of all under Heaven.

The commentary says: Here the three treasures are set out. To treat others with benevolence, extend kindness widely, and cherish and nurture all living beings is compassion. To conserve resources, benefit the people, and avoid waste is frugality. To begin from a place of calm, refrain from taking the lead in proclaiming things, and avoid striving to be ahead of others is not daring to put oneself first under Heaven. The following passage goes on to explain their benefits.

Through compassion, one can be courageous.

The commentary says: Here the functions of the three treasures are explained again. Ordinary people seek gain and contend with others. Lacking compassion, they dare to act with force, and often end up in difficulty. The sage acts with compassion and is therefore courageous in rescuing and guiding living beings. The commentary also quotes the Analects: “The benevolent are sure to be courageous.”

Through frugality, one can give generously.

The commentary says: By limiting expenditure and cherishing resources, one avoids depleting wealth or harming the people, and can therefore extend kindness more widely.

By not daring to strive to be ahead of all under Heaven, one can become a leader whom everyone esteems.

The commentary says: To restrain oneself, help others, yield one’s own place, and enable others to succeed is not daring to put oneself first under Heaven. People are therefore glad to choose such a person as their leader, making them the head of the “sacred vessels.” “Sacred vessels” refers to state authority; here it means the ruler who governs all under Heaven.

Today, if one abandons compassion and seeks only to display courage, abandons frugality and seeks only to give generously, or abandons yielding and seeks only to be first, one will move toward ruin.

Those truly skilled in dealing with people and managing affairs do not rely on force or display their might. A virtuous and wise ruler governs the country through the Dao, practicing compassion and frugality to nurture the people. Rather than subduing others through authority, the ruler gives priority to compassion. This is why the text says, “does not use force.”

People in the world are often driven by desire and act recklessly, frequently going against the Dao. They abandon the compassion that cherishes all things and indulge in momentary bravado that harms others; they abandon frugality and give free rein to extravagance; they abandon humility and the willingness to take a place behind others, scrambling instead to praise themselves and get ahead. Such conduct runs counter to compassion and frugality. Used in governing a country, it leads to the country’s ruin; used in cultivating oneself, it brings misfortune upon oneself. That is why this conduct is said to lead toward death.

Compassion is the foremost virtue among the “Three Treasures”—compassion, frugality, and not daring to put oneself ahead of the world, as described in the Dao De Jing. That is why compassion receives special praise here. Meeting war with compassion can preserve the people; defending with compassion can bring them peace. In this way, compassion is not lost, and victory and security can be attained.

When Heaven is about to come to someone’s aid, it protects them with compassion. “Aid” means to help; “protect” means to guard. The Way of Heaven bestows blessings on the good, bringing them good fortune and success. Thus Heaven will help those who fight with compassion to win, and protect those who defend with compassion so they may remain secure. Their ability to prevail and hold firm first depends on the efficacy of practicing compassion, and ultimately comes through Heaven’s manifest aid.

Chapter Sixty-Eight: Skilled in the Way of the Warrior

The previous chapter explains that turning away from virtues such as compassion and frugality brings misfortune, using compassion, one of the Three Treasures, as its example. This chapter discusses how those skilled in leadership and in dealing with others do not rely on force. It presents four kinds of good conduct to show that they accord with the Way of Heaven. It opens by naming the four kinds, then praises them as free of contention, and finally explains how good conduct can accord with the Way of Heaven.

Those truly skilled in dealing with people and managing affairs do not display force or might.

Here, “warrior” refers to someone engaged in political affairs, and “force” refers to might or authority. A wise and virtuous ruler governs through the Dao, practicing compassion and frugality to nurture all things. The ruler does not subdue the people through force, which is why the text says, “does not use force.”

Those skilled in warfare are not quick to anger.

When leading troops into battle and resisting an enemy, one should act with compassion and pity. It is like driving away a biting mosquito: simply shoo it away. From this we can see that those skilled in warfare focus on stopping the enemy and do not act out of anger. Hence the saying, “The skilled warrior is not angry.”

Those skilled at overcoming an enemy do not contend with the enemy for victory.

This means that acting with compassion and avoiding contention comes from honoring virtue. Victory achieved through brute force is not true skill. Soothe those far away and draw those nearby through gentleness, fully putting compassion and kindness into practice. Do not initiate a fight with the enemy, and the enemy will submit of their own accord. Hence the saying, “The skilled victor does not contend.”

Those skilled at employing others always place themselves humbly below them.

The key to making good use of others lies in humble words and actions, and a willingness to take the lower position. In this way, people will give their utmost, and tasks can be accomplished. Thus the Book of Changes says, “By lowering oneself, though in a position of honor, beneath those of lesser rank, one wins the people’s hearts.”

This is called the virtue of non-contention.

This sums up the ways described above: those skilled in their work are gentle and do not act forcefully; those skilled in warfare are compassionate and do not give way to anger; those skilled at winning are yielding and do not contend; those skilled at employing others are humble and place themselves below them. In this way, all things can fully express their abilities, and people can make full use of their talents. All of this comes from taking the lower position. Is this not the virtue of non-contention?

This is called drawing on the strength of others.

When one is inwardly calm and humble, and treats others with modesty, they willingly give their utmost. Thus the Book of Changes says, “When people act with willing hearts, they forget their toil.” This is what it means to be skilled at drawing on the strength of others.

This is called being in accord with Heaven, the highest principle since ancient times.

This sums up the four good practices described above and the virtue of non-contention. Those who can put these principles into practice can be in accord with Heaven and become rulers. This is the supreme Way from ancient times.

Chapter 69: Sayings on the Use of Arms

The previous chapter explained that those skilled in their work can avoid contention and thus be in accord with Heaven. This chapter discusses the Way of warfare and points out that looking down on the enemy can lead one to forget one’s own most precious treasure. The opening sentence states the main idea; the next six sentences explain how one should act; the final four offer a further warning to those who wage war: only those who understand compassion and pity can prevail.

There is a saying about the use of arms:

In the use of military force, there is a saying:

“I dare not take the initiative in war, but would rather be on the defensive.”

Here, “I” refers to the person employing military force. The side that starts a war is called the “host,” while the side that responds is called the “guest.” The side that strikes first takes the initiative, provoking trouble and revealing its greed; the side that responds preserves itself through compassion. The ancients often took this as a warning in warfare: one should hold fast to compassion and restraint, and must not provoke conflict or covet military glory. Hence the saying, “I dare not act as host, but as guest.”

“I dare not advance even an inch, but would rather retreat a foot.”

By following the Dao and withdrawing to a defensive position, one can instead prevail with skill; advancing in a show of force may bring defeat and ruin. Even advancing an inch can fuel contention, while retreating a foot can better express humility and restraint. Hence the saying: dare not advance an inch, but be willing to yield a foot.

This is called “acting as though one were not acting.”

In warfare, the key is to halt the enemy’s actions; the way to halt them lies in not contending with them. Now, by taking the defensive and yielding, one prevails through non-contention. Though one sends out troops to meet the enemy, it is as though one had not acted.

“Rolling up one’s sleeves and extending one’s arms as though one had no arms.”

Rolling up one’s sleeves and extending one’s arms is a display of anger. Those skilled in warfare do not give vent to anger, and so seem to have no arms to extend.

“Drawing in the enemy as though there were no enemy to draw in.”

“Drawing in” means luring or pulling the enemy toward oneself. Usually, one draws in the enemy in order to fight them; but when non-contention is the guiding principle, there is no enemy to draw in.

“Holding a weapon as though there were no weapon.”

Wielding weapons is originally intended to subdue enemies, but compassion should be the foundation, and one should put away weapons of one’s own accord. Then, though one holds a weapon, one has no intent to kill and is as though unarmed.

No misfortune is greater than treating the enemy with contempt. To do so is nearly to lose what I hold dear.

“Nearly” means close to; “lose” means to forfeit; and “what I hold dear” refers to compassion. Among misfortunes, none is more serious than treating the enemy with contempt and delighting in conflict. This brings one close to losing the treasure of compassion. When compassion is lost, one will be defeated in war, and even defensive warfare will lead to ruin and dispersal. The world has many kinds of misfortune, but defeat and dispersal are among the greatest.

Therefore, when two armies confront each other and their forces are matched, the side that acts with compassion can prevail.

“To raise” means to lift up or set in motion. When two states go to war, if their ruler acts in accord with the Dao and their general is compassionate, showing pity for the other side and not seeking to kill as many people as possible, they can win.

“My Words Are Very Easy to Understand,” Chapter 70

The previous chapter discussed warfare and warned people against underestimating the enemy. This chapter explains that the principles are clear and easy to grasp, showing that the teachings of the sage are, in fact, easy to understand and put into practice.

My words are very easy to understand and very easy to put into practice.

Laojun says: What I say is meant to make the principles clear. Once the principles are understood, there is no need to cling to words, so they are easy to understand. In the way I describe acting, doing nothing is the way to act. When affairs are few, one can follow what comes naturally and act with restraint, so it is easy to put into practice.

Yet no one in the world can understand them, and no one can put them into practice.

This expresses regret that people do not understand the true intent of words. They cling to the literal wording and become obstructed. Once they understand that words are ultimately meant to help people grasp their meaning and let go of attachment to words, they will see why they are easy to understand. The action Lao Jun describes is doing nothing as a way of acting. When affairs are few, one can follow what comes naturally and act with restraint, so it is easy to put into practice.

No one in the world can truly understand, nor can anyone put it into practice.

This laments that people do not understand the principles beyond words. They cling to phrases and become trapped in teachings, so they cannot truly understand. Nor do they know how to act without becoming attached to their actions. They busy themselves with trivial matters instead of simplifying them, and so lose their way amid worldly affairs, unable to follow the Dao.

Words have their root, and affairs have their guiding principle.

This explains further why the Way is actually easy to understand and easy to put into practice. “Root” means foundation; “guiding principle” means what governs. Words serve to convey the Way. Once the Way is understood, there is no need to cling to words; thus, not clinging to words is the root of words. The purpose of action is to accomplish something. Once its purpose is fulfilled, one can let the matter go; thus, not clinging to affairs is what governs action. Is it not easy, then, to practice the Dao?

Precisely because people cannot attain this understanding free of attachment, they do not understand me.

Here, “they do not understand me” means they do not understand the teachings of the Old Lord. Lacking the wisdom of true insight, people cling to names and appearances and cannot grasp the Way. When faced with affairs, they become attached to them; when faced with words, they get stuck on the phrases. Thus they do not understand the Old Lord’s meaning of wordlessness and non-action. Another interpretation is that the Old Lord says: the Dao I know lies in “not knowing”—in seeking no knowledge through a discriminating mind. People in the world, however, try to seek the Dao through knowledge acquired by deliberate effort, and so they do not understand me.

Those who understand me are few; those who take me as their model are precious.

“Few” means scarce, and “take as one’s model” means to emulate. The Old Lord says that very few understand how to set words aside and grasp the Way. Anyone who emulates my teachings and truly understands their meaning is rare and precious.

Those who understand me are few; those who take me as their model are precious.

“Few” means scarce, and “take as one’s model” means to emulate. The Old Lord says that very few understand how to set words aside and grasp the Way. Those who can emulate my teachings and put them into practice deserve respect.

Therefore, the sage wears coarse cloth, yet keeps a piece of jade in his heart.

“Coarse cloth” refers to garments made of rough cloth or coarse wool, worn by people of low status. The sage wears plain outer clothing to conceal an unadorned appearance. Jade is pure and lustrous, and can serve as a metaphor for a noble person’s virtue. This means that the sage is inwardly wise and clear-sighted, yet appears outwardly simple and ordinary. Thus, he wears coarse clothing while keeping jade within.

“Knowing Without Knowing,” Chapter 71.

The previous chapter discussed the teaching that brings understanding, showing that its principles are easy to grasp. This chapter turns to the mind’s true awakening, presenting emptiness, stillness, and freedom from attachment as the highest aims. It begins by distinguishing delusion from awakening: attachment gives rise to error. At the end, it praises the sage for understanding that forcing oneself to know is a kind of fault, and therefore for not striving after knowledge.

To know that there is something one does not know is a virtue of the highest order. To think one knows when one has not truly understood is a fault.

Explanation: The nature of all things is originally empty and still; there is no “knowledge” to grasp. The sage understands this and does not cling to knowledge of appearances or become bound by “knowing.” This is why it is said that the sage “knows there is something he does not know”—a virtue of the highest order. This describes awakening. Ordinary people do not understand that cognition itself is not real. They mistake forced speculation about the principle of emptiness and stillness for genuine understanding, and so become attached and bound. This is a fault in conduct, and it describes delusion.

Only by treating this fault as a fault can one avoid being troubled by it.

Explanation: Beings force themselves to seek knowledge, giving rise to mistaken views and attachments, and are consequently troubled by distress. Only by recognizing the fault of forcing oneself to know, and no longer clinging to the idea “I know” when cognizing, can one avoid being troubled by this compulsion. Hence the saying, “and so one is not troubled by the fault.”

The sage is free of this fault because he sees it as a fault, and so is not troubled by it.

Explanation: The sage’s wisdom is upright and complete; he understands the true nature of things. Though he cognizes, he does not cling to cognition, and so is not bound by it. Why is this so? Ordinary people have the fault of forcing themselves to know, and true wisdom is therefore used to dispel it. Once the illness of deluded attachment to knowledge has been removed, true wisdom, which served as the remedy, is no longer grasped either. Hence the saying, “not troubled by the fault.”

Chapter 72: “When People Do Not Fear Authority”

The previous chapter discussed the mind’s awakening, presenting emptiness, stillness, and freedom from attachment as the highest aims. This chapter turns to the harm caused by delusion, showing that there is cause for concern. It begins by pointing out that calamity will come when people do not fear authority, then urges them to be broad-minded. The following lines also counsel humility and freedom from desire, so that the divine spirit will not turn away from them. Finally, the sage’s conduct is offered as proof, showing what one should relinquish and what one should embrace.

When people no longer fear might, truly immense might will arrive. “Might” means a power that inspires fear. Desire and aversion both begin in small ways; gradually they accumulate into trouble and eventually give rise to great disaster. If people are not careful about small beginnings, they will reach a state that fills them with profound fear.

Do not let the place where the spirits dwell become cramped. The spirits dwell in the heart. One should forget emotional attachments and cast off desires, making the heart broad and gentle, and the mind calm and at ease. Then the spirits will settle in the heart, and the body can be preserved.

Do not reject the spirits that enable you to live. Here, “reject” means to feel aversion; since people are born through the spirits, they are called “that which gives birth.” The spirits reside in emptiness and stillness. One should cleanse distracting thoughts and quiet the mind, allowing the spirits to return of their own accord. If one gives oneself over to cravings, busies oneself with striving, and thereby disturbs one’s nature, Jing and Qi will disperse, and life will decline. Thus people are advised not to reject the spirits within them, so they may preserve the Way of enduring life.

Precisely because people do not reject the spirits, the spirits do not reject them. The Dao gives all things the power to live, and the spirits nourish the body. To cherish the Dao and nurture the spirits is to “not reject” them. When one clears away the heart’s impurities, quiets distracting thoughts, and becomes focused and pure, the spirits will not reject the person.

Thus, the sage knows himself but does not deliberately show himself. To know oneself is to turn inward in reflection and guard against trouble at its smallest beginnings, so as not to bring about fearful calamities. Not showing oneself means not flaunting one’s abilities or seeking to impress others, lest one violate the natural order and invite misfortune.

The sage cherishes himself but does not regard himself as exalted. Self-care means preserving oneself and cutting off cravings, so that the spirits do not reject one. Not regarding oneself as exalted means not boasting of one’s status or bullying others, lest resentment accumulate.

Therefore, the sage gives up self-display and self-importance, and chooses inward reflection and self-care.

The commentary says: The sage abandons the practice of showing off and assuming superiority, choosing instead to know and cherish himself. The sage possesses wisdom that treats all things as equal, understanding that the nature of all things is empty. In principle, there is neither anything truly to give up nor anything truly to take. Such language is used only to explain the principle to ordinary, deluded people and guide them.

Chapter 73: Daring to Be Bold

The previous chapter explained that delusion brings frightening consequences. This chapter explains that forceful, reckless bravery can bring death. It first points out the different benefits and harms that follow from daring and from holding back. It then describes the Dao of Heaven as humble and yielding, warning people against forceful behavior. Finally, it invokes the retribution of Heaven’s net to encourage those who practice goodness.

Those who dare to be bold are killed; those who dare not be bold live.

The commentary says: “Resolute” means brave, and “determined” means daring. The overbearing person fears nothing and understands neither humility nor yielding. They act with forceful resolve, even rebelling against rightful authority. This is the path to death; hence, “Those who dare to be bold are killed.”

“Those who dare not be bold live” means that a person who acts calmly and cautiously, restrains themselves, knows how to yield, and does not court disaster through forceful behavior follows the path of preserving life.

To understand these two approaches is to know what brings benefit and what brings harm.

“These two” refers to daring and holding back. Once people understand that reckless bravery brings misfortune, while caution and yielding help preserve them, they should have the courage to choose not to act forcefully. Both approaches may be called “brave,” but they are put into practice differently, and so they bring different results: one beneficial, the other harmful.

What Heaven detests—who knows the reason?

The commentary says: “Who” means who, and “reason” means cause. People who act forcefully and insist on imposing their will in everything often bring misfortune upon themselves. This is what the Dao of Heaven detests. Yet among ordinary people, who can truly understand why?

For this reason, even the sage finds it difficult.

The commentary says this passage invokes the sage to admonish ordinary people. Even the sage, with all their wisdom, is wary of forceful bravery and fears that it may bring disaster. How much less can ordinary people hope to escape misfortune if they act forcefully at every turn?

Heaven’s Way does not contend in strength, yet it excels at prevailing. Even a wise person like a sage finds it difficult to be forceful and unyielding, for fear that this would bring calamity. How much more harmful, then, for ordinary people to try to show off their courage and strength?

Heaven’s Way does not contend in strength, yet it excels at prevailing.

The commentary says: The previous passage discussed what Heaven abhors. Here, four sayings further explain Heaven’s Way as modest and tranquil, while warning people not to contend for victory through force. When people harbor thoughts of winning and losing, conflict arises. Heaven’s Way is impartial in its workings and draws close only to good conduct. Nothing among the myriad things can defy it, which is why it “excels at prevailing.”

Heaven’s Way does not speak, yet it excels at responding.

The commentary says: When has Heaven ever said anything? It simply grants good fortune to those who do good and brings calamity upon those who do evil, so that good and bad fortune each receive their fitting outcome. That is why it “does not speak, yet excels at responding.”

Heaven’s Way does not summon, yet the myriad things come of their own accord.

The commentary says: The coming of all things in the world seems as though they had been summoned by command. Heaven does not summon the myriad things or force them to obey it; they come naturally and accord with Heaven’s Way. The myriad things turn their backs to Yin and face Yang; in spring they grow, and in summer they flourish. None of this is brought about by a summons.

Heaven’s Way is unhurried and expansive, yet excels at planning.

The commentary says: Heaven’s Way is deep and far-reaching, unhurried and expansive. It reveals celestial signs and makes changes manifest, allowing people to follow its example. That is why it “excels at planning.”

Heaven’s net is vast and sparse, yet nothing slips through.

The commentary says: “Vast” means broad and expansive. This saying further explains what came before about Heaven’s Way. Though Heaven’s net is vast, sparse, and far-reaching, it rewards good and punishes evil, leaving nothing out, however minute.

End of Volume Nine of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang’s Commentary on the Dao De Jing.

Chapter Seventy-Four: The People Do Not Fear Death

The previous chapter explained that forceful, reckless action brings the calamity of death. This chapter explains that when people seek to impose their will, they make others take death lightly and thereby encroach upon the authority that governs killing. The first five sentences warn against applying punishments rashly; the next sentence identifies the one who governs killing; the final four sentences explain that taking the place of the one who governs killing with punishments will inevitably lead to error.

The people generally do not fear death. Why, then, threaten them with death?

When people cannot hold fast to the Dao of stillness and freedom from desire, but indulge their passions, they move toward danger. As bad habits accumulate, they become commonplace, until people no longer fear them. A ruler ought to govern through stillness and Wuwei, guiding the people by example. Why, then, use punishments and executions to make them afraid?

If the people are always afraid of death, then even if someone acts perversely and deceitfully, I can seize and kill him. Who would dare do the same?

This passage explains that a ruler should guide the people through the Dao of Wuwei, helping them lessen their desires and each preserve their own lives, so that they naturally remain mindful of death. If someone nevertheless acts deceitfully and wickedly, then even if the ruler has the authority to arrest him, he should not kill him arbitrarily. For those who administer killing and punishment have their own charge under Heaven’s Dao. The text therefore continues:

Heaven’s Dao has its own appointed agent to administer killing and punishment.

“Appointed agent” means the one in charge. Heaven observes with perfect clarity; nothing escapes its notice. Even if those who act deceitfully go unpunished for a time, they will eventually face retribution. This is Heaven’s Dao administering punishment.

When a ruler takes the place of the one appointed to administer killing and punishment, it is like taking the place of a master carpenter and cutting wood.

Those who do wrong have their own appointed agent to deal with them. When a ruler uses his authority to seize and kill someone, he takes Heaven’s Dao upon himself in killing, which goes against the principles of Heaven. It is like an unskilled person taking a master carpenter’s place and cutting wood.

Few who take the place of a master carpenter and cut wood escape injuring their own hands.

With every cut, a master carpenter follows the rules of the square and compass. An unskilled person who takes over the work is bound to lose the line. How could he avoid ruining the wood and injuring himself? Heaven’s net leaves nothing out, and the principles of the spirits are clear, just as a master carpenter cuts wood by the rules. When a ruler imposes punishments and takes it upon himself to administer Heaven’s killing, how could he avoid harming the people and damaging the innate harmony within himself? This is why the people should not be threatened with death.

The people go hungry because the rulers levy excessive taxes, and so the people suffer from hunger and want.

The people are difficult to govern because the rulers interfere too much in the affairs of government. The people originally rely on the ruler for governance, but its foundation lies in Wuwei (non-action). When the ruler practices Wuwei, the people can transform and flourish naturally. The people are difficult to govern today because the ruler meddles in everything and issues complicated commands. This unsettles the people and gives rise to much deceit in society.

The people do not fear death because the rulers pursue the pleasures of life to excess, and so the people come to regard death lightly. People take risks that lead them toward death and lose their lives because they are not content with their proper place, are excessively preoccupied with preserving life, disregard laws and prohibitions, and pursue whatever they desire without restraint.

Only those who do not worry about preserving their lives or pursue life-preservation to excess surpass those who cling to life at all costs. Life has its own limits; being content with one’s proper place is enough. One should neither violate life’s limits nor force an increase in one’s lifespan. To seek life beyond what is reasonable is delusion. Thus, by not overindulging in the care of life, one can preserve it; by pursuing life-preservation too zealously, one may instead lose it.

The previous chapter explains that excessive taxation impoverishes the people, a harm caused by deliberate action. This chapter explains that deliberate action stirs up desire and causes people to lose their gentle nature. It begins by describing the two states of life and death, then draws a comparison with plants and trees, and finally points out that the strong and flourishing are at a disadvantage, warning people to maintain gentleness.

When people are alive, their bodies are soft; after they die, their bodies become stiff.

Emperor Xuanzong explains: While people are alive, harmonious Qi (the vital energy that sustains life) circulates, so the body is naturally soft. When people die, this harmonious Qi disperses, and the limbs become stiff. This reminds people that softness and hardness are signs of life and death, respectively.

When plants and trees are growing, they are tender and supple; after they die, they wither and become dry and hard.

Emperor Xuanzong explains: Plants and trees grow when Qi gathers, and their branches and leaves flourish in tender softness. When Qi disperses and is exhausted, they die, and their branches and trunks decline and wither. The earlier passage used sentient beings to explain life and death; here, plants and trees without awareness serve as a comparison. Plants and trees flourish or wither as Qi gathers and disperses, while human life and death depend on whether the Dao is present or absent.

Therefore, hardness and strength tend toward death, while softness and weakness tend toward life.

Emperor Xuanzong explains: Plants and trees are tender when alive and hard after death. From this we can understand that people who act with unyielding force are moving toward death, while those who remain gentle and humble belong to the realm of life.

Therefore, an army that relies on force cannot win.

Emperor Xuanzong explains: Teachings on warfare hold that compassion should be its foundation. Thus, relying on force in warfare brings defeat. The point here is that people who depend on hardness, too, move toward death.

When wood becomes hard, it is cut down.

Trees have strong trunks and roots, so they grow below; their branches are weak and soft, yet they grow above. This means that the soft and weak occupy the upper position, while the forceful and strong remain below. Hence the next passage says:

“The strong and great dwell below; the soft and weak dwell above.”

This sums up the preceding idea: the tree’s strong trunk and roots support the branches and leaves growing above them. The author uses this to show that the forceful often find themselves beneath the soft and weak.

Chapter 77: The Way of Heaven

The previous chapter explains that striving and action give rise to desire, causing people to lose their calm and gentle nature. This chapter says that forcefulness inevitably brings harm, and uses the Way of Heaven as an analogy. The opening line names the Way of Heaven as a warning; the next five lines explain it through an analogy; then eight lines draw together the preceding ideas. The chapter concludes by describing the Sage’s Virtue and urging readers to follow it.

“Is not the Way of Heaven like the drawing of a bow?”

This places the Way of Heaven alongside the drawing of a bow, using the bow to explain Heaven’s profound and elusive way. The principles of drawing a bow are explained further below.

“What is high is pressed down; what is low is raised up. What is in excess is reduced; what is insufficient is supplemented.”

When drawing a bow, one must adjust its body so the tension of the bowstring is just right. In setting the bow, the high part must be pressed down and the low part raised up. When shooting, one adjusts the force according to the distance: excess force is reduced, and insufficient force is supplemented. Only then can the arrow hit its mark.

The Way of Heaven works in the same way. The sun and moon follow their courses, cold and heat alternate, and one phase gives way to another. When something should be diminished, what is excessive is reduced; when something should be increased, what is lacking is replenished. In this way, the course of the year is completed. A ruler should follow the example of the Way of Heaven: restrain the strong and support the weak, reduce what is excessive and supplement what is insufficient. In other words, those who are full should be diminished, while those who are humble and lowly should be increased, so that what is given and what is done suit the circumstances and remain balanced.

The Way of Heaven operates by reducing what is excessive and replenishing what is lacking. Past seasons and deficiencies adjust to one another, making the year’s harvest possible. A ruler should follow the example of Heaven: restrain the strong and support the weak, reduce what is in surplus and add to what is insufficient, so that wealth and goods are distributed fairly.

The Way of Heaven reduces what is in surplus and replenishes what is lacking. Human practice, by contrast, often does the opposite: it takes from those who have little and provides for those who already have plenty.

This passage explains that the human way cannot regulate excess and deficiency as the Way of Heaven does. The note’s phrase “reduce what is abundant and add to what is scarce” comes from the Humility hexagram in the Book of Changes (Yijing).

Who can use their surplus to provide for everyone under Heaven? Only a person who has the Dao can do so.

“Who” means “who.” Laozi laments that people of his time could neither follow the Way of Heaven by relieving and caring for the people, nor thereby display their virtue. He therefore uses the Way of Heaven to urge them: who can, like Heaven, reduce what is in surplus and use it to help those in need? Only a ruler who has the Dao can do this.

Therefore, the sage acts, yet does not claim credit for what he has done.

The sage is introduced here to show what it means to be a person who has the Dao. “Claim credit” means to rely on one’s own achievements and boast of them. The sage follows the Way of Heaven, bestows benefits fairly, and extends kindness to all things, yet does not publicize his accomplishments. That is why the text says he “does not claim credit.”

When his work is complete, he does not make its achievements his own.

The sage understands that once an achievement is complete, pride in one’s accomplishment invites the Way of Heaven to bring excess to ruin. So even when he governs all under Heaven and benefits the people, he gives the credit and good name to everyone rather than claiming the achievement for himself.

The sage acts this way because he does not want others to see his worthiness.

This sentence sums up and explains what it means to “not claim credit or make achievements one’s own.” Though the sage has profound virtue, he does not publicize his good name. He avoids boasting and taking credit in order to conceal his virtue and keep his reputation modest, so others will not see his worthiness. This, too, is a way of reducing what is in surplus within himself.

Between Heaven and Earth, nothing is softer or weaker than water; yet nothing surpasses it in striking what is hard and strong.

This passage says that water by nature is content to remain low and does not compete with anything for precedence. It moves with the conditions of the moment and changes its shape to fit its container, becoming round or square as needed. Thus, nothing under Heaven is softer or weaker than water. Though soft, water can wear through stone; though hard, stone cannot harm water. When hard things attack other hard things, both are often damaged. When water strikes stone, the stone suffers damage, while the water remains whole. So, for striking what is hard and overcoming what is strong, nothing is more effective than water.

Though utterly soft and weak, water has no equal in overcoming what is firm and strong. Is this not because it embodies the virtue of non-contention and has no insistence on winning? The same should hold when governing a state and cultivating oneself.

Thus, the soft can overcome the hard, and the weak can overcome the strong. No one under Heaven is unaware of this truth, yet few can truly put it into practice. People are often misled by their own sense of superiority, always thinking themselves more insightful. As a result, they cannot live by the truths they already understand.

The principle of yielding and weakness is stronger than firmness. People everywhere understand this, yet because they think themselves right and regard themselves as most important, no one can act on what they know. That is why it is said, “No one can do it.”

So the Sage says: “One who bears the humiliation of a state is fit to be its ruler; one who bears the disasters of the realm is fit to be its sovereign.”

Commentary: Here the Sage’s words are cited to confirm the principle stated earlier: only those who can overcome firmness through yielding and weakness can truly put it into practice. “Filth” means impurity and humiliation. If a ruler can accept the state’s impurity and humiliation, taking the people’s failings upon himself, the people will admire his De and will not scatter; the state, too, will have someone on whom it can rely. That is why he is called the ruler of the state. One who bears a state’s ill fortune is worthy to be called the sovereign of the realm. “Auspiciousness” originally refers to good fortune and good deeds. If a ruler is humble and yielding, bears the state’s ill fortune, and calls himself “orphan,” “widower,” or “unworthy” (humble terms used by rulers in ancient times), the people of the realm will turn toward his benevolence and De. That is why he is called the sovereign of the realm.

“Straight words seem contrary.”

Commentary: This line sums up what came before. By bearing the state’s impurity, one becomes its ruler; by bearing the state’s ill fortune, one becomes the sovereign of the realm. These words sound contrary to ordinary convention, so Laozi deliberately praises them: these are the true words, and putting them into practice brings results. Ordinary people, however, initially feel that they go against common sense.

Chapter Seventy-Nine: Harmonizing Great Resentments

The previous chapter explained how yielding and weakness can bring benefit, and thus praised the De of water. This chapter explains that laws and commands bring harm and inevitably leave resentments unresolved. It begins by discussing the use of instruction to ease resentment, but this is not yet the fundamental principle. It then explains that when a person of De holds the tally, resentment does not arise. Finally, beginning with the “Way of Heaven,” it explains that the Way of Heaven shows no partiality and accords only with goodness.

After a deep resentment has been reconciled, resentment is sure to remain.

People are originally born with pure and quiet bodies and minds. Their present immersion in the worldly realm, their loss of the Great Dao and descent into confusion, are caused by passions and desires. We can see from this that nothing is more likely to bring misfortune upon people than passions and desires.

“Harmony” means bringing things into balance. This passage says that the people, driven by passions and desires, give rise to all kinds of affectation and hypocrisy. The ruler cannot guide them to transform naturally through the Dao of Wuwei (non-action), and instead seeks to impose teachings and laws to restrain their deceitful conduct. We can see from this that nothing is more likely to bring misfortune upon people than passions and desires.