《道德真经三解(邓锜)》Vol. 3

This situation has persisted for a long time. Therefore, the sage takes the square as a model without shaving away its corners; takes sharpness as a model without grinding off its points; takes straightness as a model without forcing it to extend; and takes brightness as a model without making it dazzling. When people can follow Wuwei and the natural state, misfortune and good fortune have nowhere to attach themselves or transform into one another. Who, then, can see where they will end?

The section on De says: When government is lenient and relaxed, the people are simple and sincere. One who follows innate Qi and harmonizes acquired Qi, having attained the Dao, often seems as if drunk, at ease and content. When government is exacting and strict, the people are left wanting. The sun has its conjunctions, and the moon has its conjunctions. To investigate the occult significance of Wu and Ji, or determine that of Geng and Jia—names associated with the Five Phases, directions, calendrical signs, and the order of time—may seem to bring some gain, yet can in fact bring loss. Misfortune conceals good fortune, and good fortune harbors misfortune. Who can know where change will end?

Could it be that there is no right way after all? The right way may turn into the strange and ingenious; when the ordinary way reaches its extreme, it may shift into expedience. Goodness may become something uncanny, and when reason is pursued to its limit, it may fall into occult techniques. Alas, the people of the world have no Dao they can follow; they have long been bewildered by the transformations of misfortune and good fortune. The sage sees these changes but does not take them as rules for action; he makes use of them without leaving a trace. He encounters them in what is elusive and indistinct, and perceives their transformations in what is deep and dark. Thus he takes the square form of Dui, one of the Eight Trigrams, which symbolizes a lake, without shaving away its corners; takes Kan, which symbolizes water, for its sharpness, without necessarily causing harm; takes Zhen, which symbolizes thunder, for its straightness, without deliberately displaying it; and takes Li, which symbolizes fire and brightness, without making it dazzling. He lets the people of the world follow their nature and act through Wuwei, until at last they rest content with their Heaven-given destiny. Is this not vast indeed?

Chapter 59: Governing the People and Serving Heaven

In governing the people and serving Heaven, nothing is better than cherishing and conserving. To conserve and exercise restraint is called returning to the Dao early. Returning early means continually accumulating De. When De has been accumulated deeply, there is nothing one cannot overcome. When there is nothing one cannot overcome, one’s limit is hard to know. When one’s limit is hard to measure, one can govern the state. Grasp the root of governing the state, and the state can endure. This is called having deep roots and a firm foundation, and the way to long life and lasting existence.

The classic says that, in governing the people and serving the Dao, nothing is more important than restraint and conservation. Only by understanding restraint can one return early to the root. Returning early to the root is called continually accumulating De. When De has been accumulated deeply, there is nothing that cannot be overcome. When nothing cannot be overcome, its limits cannot be measured. What cannot be measured can govern a state. Those who do not understand the root of a state do not understand the people it brings forth and nurtures; those who grasp the state’s root can ensure its enduring stability. This is called having deep roots and far-reaching De. Continually accumulating De means there is nothing that cannot be overcome; when nothing cannot be overcome, its limits cannot be measured. What cannot be measured can govern a state. Those who do not understand the root of a state do not understand the people it brings forth and nurtures; those who grasp the state’s root can ensure its enduring stability. This is the principle of firm foundations and long life and lasting vision—enduring through time and seeing things clearly.

Daoist interpretation explains: “Kun” symbolizes restraint and conservation, as well as the abundant De that bears and supports all things. Whether serving the Dao of Heaven above or nurturing the people below, nothing is better than conserving and using sparingly. Restraint means that the Dao of Kun gathers and nurtures all things, allowing them to grow without end. Only because one understands restraint can one return early. The Return hexagram symbolizes free passage and the return of Yang energy. Action accords with the times, so coming and going meet no obstruction, and the arrival of companions brings no misfortune. The cycle turns and turns again; after seven days, Yang energy returns. This is the pattern of Heaven’s movement. What the Return hexagram reveals—is it not, perhaps, the very heart of Heaven and Earth?

Returning early to the root is called continually accumulating De. The Return hexagram arises from the Kun hexagram. The Dao of Kun continually accumulates De, and so there is no place it cannot reach. Its power is beyond measure; what is beyond measure can govern a state. Thus Kun symbolizes the land and its cities. The people brought forth and nurtured by the state are symbolized by Zhen, the eldest son in the Return hexagram; the mother who is the state’s root is Kun, which symbolizes the Earth. When this motherlike root is grasped, the state can endure for a long time, like Heaven and Earth. This is the principle of deep roots and long life and lasting vision, and of De joining with the boundless expanse of Heaven and Earth.

To “govern human affairs and serve Heaven” is to govern human affairs and follow the Dao of Heaven, to investigate the principles of things to their utmost and fully realize human nature. Nothing is more important for this than cherishing and exercising restraint; in this way, one can preserve one’s Heaven-given mandate. Therefore, return to the Great Dao as early as possible. All things flourish and grow, yet in the end they return to their roots.

Returning to the Great Dao early is called “accumulating De deeply.” It is like Yang being reborn, or like De being stored up in the Kun hexagram. When De has accumulated deeply, nothing cannot be transformed. It is reserved and generous, vast and luminous, enabling all things to grow unhindered. When nothing cannot be transformed, no one can fathom its limits; it returns to the limitless. When its depth is beyond measure, it can bear a state, like the Earth following the Dao of Heaven and bringing peace to all under Heaven. Kun symbolizes the mother of the state, while Fu symbolizes its son; thus, this is called possessing the mother that is the root of the state. In this way, it can endure for a long time. Heaven and Earth endure because they do not seek their own survival, and so they can last. This is the principle of having deep, firm roots, living long without decline, and sustaining vitality over time.

Chapter 60: Governing a Great State

Governing a great state is like cooking a small fish: it should not be turned over too often. When the world is governed through the Dao, spirits will not manifest to cause trouble. It is not that spirits have lost their miraculous powers, but that those powers do not harm people. They do not harm people, and the sage does not harm people either. Since neither harms the other, their De gathers together.

The Jing says that governing a great state is like cooking a small fish: one should not act recklessly. When the world is governed through the Dao, spirits will not display their power to cause trouble. This does not mean that spirits are no longer wondrous; it means that they do not harm people. They do not harm people because the sage does not harm them either. Since neither harms the other, their De converges and unites.

Dao and De govern the three powers of Heaven, Earth, and humanity. Spirits and gods govern Heaven and Earth, while sages are able to govern spirits and gods. When trustworthiness is deep and genuine, even animals such as pigs and fish can sense it. Firewood is placed in a cauldron, and food is cooked over Xun fire—the cooking fire fanned by the wind. Governing a great state is like cooking a small fish: do not turn it over too often or interfere excessively.

When people follow the Dao and esteem Wuwei (non-action), and government is simple and restrained, the people become honest and settled. But if rulers force action in every matter and impose cumbersome, intrusive regulations, the people lose their trustworthiness and natural sincerity. The sage is upright without harming others, honest without wounding them, firm without being overbearing, and bright without dazzling. Thus, when the sage governs the world by the Dao, spirits and gods cannot wield their uncanny powers unchecked.

Evil influences among humanity, seasonal pestilences, fierce calamities, and demonic manifestations are all things spirits and gods can bring about. Yet calamities and demonic disturbances cannot overcome virtuous conduct, and disorder cannot overcome good governance. When the sage governs the world by the Dao, spirits and gods do not lose their supernatural powers, but they cannot harm people. This is not because spirits and gods are inherently unable to cause harm; it is because the sage governs through virtue and good government, preventing the people from being harmed. Spirits and gods and the sage do not harm one another, and so the virtue of both returns to the Dao.

The Dao and De teach that the human body is like a small cosmos and a small state. The five organs and six viscera, the twelve primary channels and fifteen collaterals, the three hundred and sixty joints and acupuncture points, the eighty-four thousand pores and interstices—the skin’s texture and the spaces between the muscles—as well as eight hundred and ten zhang of blood vessels and the Qi stored in thirteen thousand five hundred breaths together form a small, integrated whole.

To govern the human body, the heart must be in command, harmonizing Water and Fire as one would cook a small fish, so that the Qi within the body mingles and returns to the body without becoming scattered. To govern a great state, one must harmonize Yin-Yang and Water and Fire, so that the state’s transformation through De returns to the Great Dao and does not descend into cumbersome, harsh decrees. Thus, the sage governs All Under Heaven, just as the heart governs the human body.

When the sage governs All Under Heaven through the Great Dao, ghosts and spirits cannot manifest and cause harm. If they were allowed to cause harm, how could calamities fail to occur? That would mean the Great Dao had already been abandoned. When the heart, as ruler, harmonizes the hundred channels with true Qi, harmful Qi cannot cause trouble. If harmful Qi were allowed to gain strength, how could illness fail to arise? That would mean the methods for preserving true Qi had already been abandoned.

From this we can see that it is not that ghosts and spirits inherently lack supernatural powers or are unable to harm people; nor does possessing such powers mean they must inevitably do so. What matters is whether the sage’s governance is clear and just, and does not harm the people. If sage governance does not harm them, what could ghosts and spirits do, even with their supernatural powers? Do ghosts and spirits inherently delight in harming people? It is only when people stray from the right path and fall into disorder that ghosts and spirits are driven to act. When governance by the sage is good, spirits and humans alike are at peace and do not harm one another. Thus, De transforms them both and brings them back to the Great Dao.

Chapter 61: “A great state is like a low-lying river.”

A great state should be like the lower reaches of a river, occupying a low position. The place where all things under Heaven gather and meet is like the female. The female often overcomes the male through stillness, and because of this stillness, remains below. Thus, when a great state treats a small state with humility, it can win the small state’s allegiance; when a small state treats a great state with humility, it can be accepted by the great state. Some states are humble in order to win others’ allegiance; others are humble in order to give their allegiance.

What a great state seeks is simply to embrace and care for everyone. What a small state seeks is simply to enter the great state’s order and serve it. If both can attain what they seek, the great state should take the humble position.

The scripture also says: A great state should be like the lower reaches of a river, staying low and becoming the place where all things under Heaven gather and meet, like the female. The female often overcomes the male through stillness and, because of this stillness, remains below. When a great state humbly treats a small state, it can win the small state’s allegiance; when a small state humbly treats a great state, it can be accepted by the great state. A great state is humble because it wishes to embrace and care for all; a small state is humble because it wishes to give its allegiance to and serve the great state. If both can attain what they seek, the great state should be humble.

The Dao (the Way) says: The rivers and seas can serve as the destination of all streams because they are good at staying low. Thus they gather all the streams and become their destination.

When a mountain lies within the earth, this is called “Modesty”; when a mountain clings to the earth, this is called “Stripping Away.” Of the six lines in the Modesty hexagram, three are auspicious and three bring benefit. This shows that people can hold their place only by being modest and observing proper conduct. If they lose the right way and do not return to it, they will eventually decline like a mountain stripped away and flattened against the earth. This happens because they are not humble.

A great state is like a place where many streams converge. The Modesty hexagram’s teaching about being humble and holding one’s place, and its warning that those who lose the way and do not return will decline, apply equally to a great state. A great state is where the streams converge, so it is called “the lower reaches,” occupying a low position. It remains still and does not act recklessly. When the male and female of the world come together, the female often prevails over the male through stillness. At its root, this is because stillness lets her occupy the lower position; by being low, she can prevail. This is how the softest thing in the world can direct and master the hardest things in the world.

Therefore, when a great state humbly places itself below a small state, it can win the small state’s allegiance. Emperor Shun widely extended his civil Virtue, holding ceremonies in the court in which dancers carried shields and feather ornaments. After seventy days, the Youmiao tribes came to submit. When a small state humbly places itself below a great state, it too can win the great state’s acceptance. The Zhou people held two-thirds of the realm’s land, yet remained subordinate to the Shang. This was the Zhou people’s supreme Virtue.

All these examples show how to govern a state by the right way, taking Wuwei (non-action), stillness, and humility as principles. Sometimes a great state humbles itself to win people’s hearts, wishing only to bring more people under its protection; the Zhou Grand Duke’s departure from Bin, an ancient place name, is one example. Sometimes a small state humbles itself to secure a place to survive, wishing only to enter another state and serve it; King Goujian of Yue serving the state of Wu is one example. These actions all belong to the use of the “unorthodox” in warfare, and likewise take stillness and humility as their foundation.

Both the great and small states can obtain what they seek. A small state is naturally suited to humility, so a great state should also be humble.

De (Virtue/Power) says: A great state is one with a large foundation and broad capacity. To return to the root is to be still. The use of the “unorthodox” in warfare should likewise be grounded in stillness and humility. Both the great and small states obtain what they seek; while humility is fitting for a small state, a great state should therefore be humble as well.

A “great state” is a state with deep foundations and broad capacity. In the end, all things return to their root and to stillness; therefore, stillness governs agitation.

Heaven and Earth came first, and only then did the myriad things arise. Men and women came after the myriad things. In the Xian hexagram, men and women respond to one another: the yielding Yin is above, and the firm Yang below. Their two Qi energies resonate and draw close to each other, bringing delight. The man places himself beneath the woman. In this way, when the firm Yang of the world joins with its yielding Yin, the yielding often prevails over the firm through stillness. This is likely because the yielding occupies the lower position.

A great state is like a ruler; a small state is like a subject or consort. The ruler belongs to the firm Yang, while the subject or consort belongs to the yielding Yin. The Kun hexagram symbolizes a state and also represents the Way of Earth, the Way of the wife, and the Way of the subject. When a man humbles himself before a woman, or a great state humbles itself before a small one, they respond to each other like Heaven and Earth, bringing forth and transforming the myriad things. When a woman humbles herself before a man, or a small state before a great one, they follow the Way of Heaven and Earth and can endure without end. This is called governing a state by the proper Way.

At times, a woman keeps still, and a man wishes to humble himself to win her over; this is simply annexing and keeping her. At times, a man keeps still, and a woman wishes to humble herself and draw near him; this is simply entering his company to serve him. This is called using the extraordinary Way in warfare. Each side wants to obtain what it seeks, but since the woman is naturally suited to occupy the lower position, the man should treat her with humility.

Chapter Sixty-Two: The Dao Is the Hidden Treasure of All Things

The Dao is the hidden root of all things. It is the treasure of the good and the means by which the wicked preserve themselves. Fine words can command a good price, and noble conduct can win people’s respect. Therefore, a man should treat others with humility.

Chapter Sixty-Two: The Dao Is the Hidden Treasure of All Things

The Dao is the hidden root of all things. It is the treasure of the good and the means by which the wicked preserve themselves. Fine words can command a good price, and noble conduct can win people’s respect. But what reason is there to cast aside those who are not good?

Therefore, when appointing the Son of Heaven and the Three Dukes, even if someone first presents a great jade disk held in both hands and follows it with a team of four horses, it is not as good as sitting quietly and offering this Dao. Why did the ancients prize the Dao? Was it not because people could seek the Dao and thereby be preserved, and because even those who had sinned could rely on it to escape calamity? That is why the Dao is cherished throughout the world.

The scripture says: The Dao is the root of all things. It is a treasure for the good, and a principle that those of poor character can learn from and rely on. Fine words can fetch a good price, and noble conduct can serve as an example to all. Why, then, should people of poor character be cast aside? Thus, when the Son of Heaven takes the throne and appoints the Three Dukes, even someone who carries a great jade bi before a four-horse chariot cannot compare with sitting calmly and presenting the Dao to them. Why did the ancients value the Dao? Was it because seeking the Dao brings benefits, removes guilt, and puts one above others? It was not; this is why the Dao is the most precious thing under Heaven.

Deng Qi explains: The Dao is the root of all things; it brings them back to their source and restores their nature. The good cherish the Dao as a treasure, like someone dressed in coarse cloth with a piece of fine jade hidden in their breast. Those of poor character can also rely on the Dao, because everyone can become good. Fine words can be sold like goods for a good price; noble conduct can serve as an example to all under Heaven. Why cast aside people of poor character? Since the Dao can teach and support them, and noble conduct can offer them a model to follow, they should not be abandoned.

Thus, when the Son of Heaven takes the throne and appoints the Three Dukes, even someone carrying a precious jade bi before a four-horse chariot is still no match for sitting calmly and presenting the Dao to them. The Dao is more precious than the jade bi, and more valuable than the honor represented by a four-horse chariot. Why did the ancients prize the Dao? Do not assume that seeking the Dao is simply a way to gain benefits or escape blame. The Dao is honored by all under Heaven not because it lets people profit or evade guilt.

De (Virtue/Power) is the profound source of the myriad things and the most subtle, wondrous principle under Heaven. It has no fixed form, yet it can reveal forms; it has no concrete substance, yet it can give rise to the forms of all things. It arises in the emptiness, stillness, and brightness of Taiji (the source from which all things arise) and congeals from primordial Qi into a grain as large as a millet seed. It is called Golden Essence, True Lead, Yang Elixir, or Heaven One. This is a treasure prized by those skilled in cultivating the Dao, and something on which even the unworthy may rely and which they may safeguard. If a perfected person—a master who has succeeded in cultivating the Dao—offers guidance, what could a practitioner of the Dao fail to attain?

Fine words may be passed down through the world, but the true principle must be transmitted from mouth to heart; the value of a single sentence is beyond measure. Nobility of virtue can transform others: parents give a person only their body, while a teacher can help preserve that person’s original nature. Anyone can study the way of the immortals and attain the Dao. Even if someone is of poor character, if they praise their teacher’s words and honor their teacher’s conduct, why should they be cast aside?

Therefore, place the Son of Heaven upon the profound Dao of the myriad things, making him an example cherished by the good. Let the Three Dukes, the highest officials of ancient times, prize fine words and noble virtue, so that even the unworthy may learn the way of becoming an immortal. Anyone can attain the Dao. Even if someone is of poor character, if they praise their teacher’s words and honor their teacher’s conduct, why should they be cast aside? Thus the Son of Heaven should treasure the profound Dao of the myriad things, and the Three Dukes should use fine words and noble conduct to guide the unworthy, giving them a path to follow. Even a jade disc worth a city, or a team of four-horse chariots, is no match for sitting calmly and cultivating this Dao, for it can bring a person to a state where nothing lies beyond reach.

Why did people of old prize the Dao so highly? Was it merely to obtain the treasure cherished by the good, or to free the unworthy from blame? No. The Dao is precious because it is itself the most precious thing under Heaven.

Chapter 63: Acting through Wuwei (non-action)

Act through Wuwei (non-action); handle affairs without causing disturbance; experience things with a calm, untroubled heart. Regard the great as small, and the few as many. When others meet you with resentment, repay them with De. Address difficulties where they are easy, and accomplish great things by beginning with what is small. The difficult things under Heaven must develop from what is easy; the great things under Heaven must gradually take shape from what is small.

Therefore, the sage never claims the accomplishment of great undertakings, and is thus able to accomplish them. Those who make promises lightly often find it hard to keep them; those who regard things as too easy often encounter more difficulties. The sage always treats things seriously and never takes them lightly, and so in the end no task proves too difficult to complete.

The Dao De Jing says: Act according to Wuwei (non-action: following nature and avoiding forced action), handling matters without disturbing the people or making things complicated, and find meaning in what seems plain and tasteless. To accomplish something great, begin with what is small. The sage never considers himself to be doing something great, and so is able to accomplish great things. Those who make promises too readily often find them hard to keep; those who treat matters as too easy often encounter more difficulties. Therefore, the sage continues to approach matters with care, as though they were difficult, and in the end has no difficulties.

The text also says: Act according to the principle of Wuwei, handle matters with an attitude of doing nothing, and find meaning in what seems tasteless. Great things are accomplished from small beginnings, and much accumulates from little. All these principles express the idea of responding to resentment with De (Virtue/Power). When planning something difficult, begin with what is easy; when accomplishing something great, begin with what is subtle. The difficult things under Heaven must begin with what is easy; the great things under Heaven must begin with what is small. The sage never considers himself to be doing something great, and so is able to accomplish great things. Those who make promises too readily often lack credibility; those who treat matters as too easy often encounter more difficulties. The sage continues to approach difficult matters with care, and in the end has no difficulties.

The Dao De Jing also says: The Dao always follows its own nature, yet nothing remains unaccomplished. This is “Wuwei, yet nothing is left undone.” In governing the world, one should consistently take doing nothing as the principle; if one constantly causes disturbance and imposes one’s will, one cannot govern the world. The words spoken of the Dao are faint, as though without taste: this is finding meaning in what seems tasteless.

Only by accumulating the small can one achieve what is lofty; only by accumulating the little can one gather the much. These principles, too, express responding to resentment with De: resentment may be small, but De is great; respond to resentment with De, and resentment can be transformed into De. When the great humbles itself before the small, the small can accomplish something great. Thus it is said, “Respond to resentment with De.”

When planning something difficult, do not wait until it has become difficult to begin; start instead with what is easy, and the difficulty can be resolved step by step. When doing something great, do not focus only on its grand scale; begin instead with what is subtle, and the great undertaking can gradually be accomplished. Thus the difficult things under Heaven must begin with what is easy, and the great things under Heaven must begin with what is small. The sage accomplishes great things through what is small, yet never considers himself to be doing something great, and so is able to accomplish great things. Even when one already knows how to deal with difficulties, one must still treat them seriously; only then can they ultimately cease to be difficult. Why is this so? Because those who make promises too readily often lack credibility, and those who treat matters as too easy often encounter more difficulties.

“De” says: Take Wuwei (non-action) as the foundation, and use stillness and calm to overcome restlessness; take having nothing to do as the foundation, and use what is absent to surpass what is present; take lack of flavor as the foundation, and let what is plain prevail over what is intense. To cultivate the body and preserve life, one must first lay a firm foundation. Making that foundation secure must begin with discerning and choosing the medicines. As the saying goes, abundance comes from knowing how to value what one has; poverty comes from never being satisfied. Do not refuse to do a good deed because it is small, and do not commit an evil deed because it seems small. A steady trickle gathers without ceasing until it becomes a river; heights rest on what is low, and honor has its root in humility. This is the principle of not competing to seize more, and of repaying resentment with De.

So deal with difficult matters while they are still easy, and undertake great achievements while they are still small. The difficult tasks under Heaven must begin with what is easy; the great undertakings under Heaven must begin with what is small. Therefore, the sage fears being unable to accomplish great things and never treats matters as great; for this reason, the sage can accomplish great things. Fearing that a task may prove difficult, the sage still treats it carefully as difficult, and so ultimately makes it no longer difficult. When something has not yet become great, boasting that it is great invites failure through careless promises. When something has not yet shown itself to be difficult, calling it difficult too soon—and neglecting the details—brings still more trouble.

“What Is Stable Is Easy to Maintain,” Chapter 64

When things are stable, they are easy to maintain; when signs of trouble have not yet appeared, they are easy to plan for. What is brittle is easy to break, and what is slight is easy to disperse. Deal with things before they arise, and bring order to circumstances before they become chaotic. A tree too large for a person to encircle grows from a tiny shoot; a nine-tiered platform is built up basketful by basketful of earth.

Things are easy to hold steady when they are secure, and easy to plan for before signs have appeared. Fragile things are easy to break; minute things are easy to disperse. Therefore, deal with things before they come to pass, and bring order to a situation before it falls into confusion.

A great tree broad enough for several people to embrace grows from a tiny shoot. A nine-story terrace is built up from baskets of earth. A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step beneath one’s feet. Deliberately forcing things is often bound to bring failure; clinging stubbornly to them makes them easy to lose. Thus the sage follows the natural course and does not act recklessly, so nothing comes to failure; the sage does not cling to any one thing, so nothing is lost.

People often fail at their undertakings when they are close to success. If they remain as careful at the end as they were at the beginning, they will not spoil what they have accomplished. Therefore, the sage seeks what others do not seek, places no value on rare and precious goods, and learns what others do not learn. The sage corrects the mistakes people commonly make, thereby helping all things develop according to their own nature, and dares not act recklessly.

The Dao (the Way) says: A stable situation is easy to maintain, and it is easy to make plans before events show signs of unfolding. Fragile things are easy to break, and minute things are easy to scatter. One must act before events occur and bring order before a situation descends into chaos. Danger has not appeared because one has held one’s position steadily; ruin has been avoided because one has preserved the life force already present; disorder has not arisen because there is already a way to govern. Thus, when the noble person is secure, they do not forget danger; when they preserve life, they do not forget the possibility of ruin; when things are orderly, they do not forget the possibility of disorder. In this way, they can remain secure and the state can be preserved. The Book of Changes says: “It is nearly lost, nearly lost! Be vigilant in this way, and it will be as secure as a cord tied to a dense mulberry tree.” From this we can see that a tree large enough to be clasped by both arms grows from a tiny sprout, a nine-tiered terrace rises from baskets of earth, and a journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step beneath one’s feet. This is an inevitable principle: one cannot skip stages to reach the goal, nor grasp something out of thin air. Acting recklessly in this way is bound to fail; clinging to things in this way is bound to bring loss.

The sage does not act recklessly, but steadily accumulates, basket by basket, and so does not fail. The sage does not cling to possession, but takes practical steps, one after another, and so makes no mistakes. Ordinary people often act differently: unwilling to accumulate steadily, they keep hoping for a lucky break; unwilling to take concrete action, they often abandon what they are doing halfway through. Thus, even when they achieve something, they may destroy it with their own hands. This is perhaps because they rely only on luck to produce an outward result, without laying a solid foundation. With a solid foundation, one will not fail. So, be as careful in seeing things through to the end as at the beginning, and proceed step by step; then you will not ruin what you are doing.

People everywhere want to obtain rare and valuable goods, but the sage does not pursue what everyone else pursues, and so does not prize such goods. People everywhere learn the mistakes others commonly make, but the sage does not learn these habitual practices, and so can return to the right path. In this way, the sage assists the workings of Heaven and Earth and guides the people, allowing the myriad things to follow their own nature without presumptuously interfering with them.

The De (Virtue/Power) says: Each person has one jin of primordial Qi (vital energy), the fundamental energy of life. At birth, a person has only one zhu of primordial Qi. There are twenty-four solar terms each year, here called the “twenty-four Qi.” In this way, the sage assists the workings of Heaven and Earth and guides the people, allowing the myriad things to follow their own nature without presumptuously interfering with them.

De says: Each person has a total of one jin of primordial Qi, the vital energy at the root of life. At birth, a person has only one qi and one zhu. Over the course of a year, through the twenty-four solar terms, primordial Qi increases by one liang. By the age of sixteen, a full jin of primordial Qi has accumulated. After that, for every three years, one liang of primordial Qi is lost. By the age of sixty-four, the full jin has been used up. Thus, when a man reaches eight times eight, or sixty-four, his primordial Qi is exhausted.

When primordial Qi is settled and abundant, danger is easily averted. When it has just begun to arise and has not yet shown itself, its signs are easy to detect. When it is weak, what is firm can easily be broken; when it is subtle, what has congealed can easily disperse. If you address a matter before it arises, you need not exert yourself greatly. If you bring order before disorder appears, you need not wait until the situation is out of control to set it right.

A tree that takes several people to encircle began as a tiny shoot. Cultivating the two qi to form the Yang Shen, the Yang Spirit, must likewise begin with what is subtle. A nine-story terrace is built by piling up baskets of earth; refining and compounding ingredients to form the Golden Elixir must also proceed step by step. A journey of a thousand li begins beneath one’s feet. Cultivating the Valley Spirit, the quiet and indestructible spirit within, and the Mysterious Female, the subtle source that gives birth to all things, must likewise be practiced little by little, starting with oneself. Take each step firmly; do not expect to take a shortcut. Acting by shortcuts is bound to fail; clinging to a particular technique is bound to bring loss.

The sage follows things as they are and acts without contrivance, yet nothing is left undone, so he does not fail. He clings to nothing, yet responds to everything, so he suffers no loss. The people engage in cultivation but do not understand that the Dao values Wuwei (non-action), nor do they understand the disciplines of exhaling the old and inhaling the new, and of cultivating oneself in stillness and solitude. They are often skilled at scheming and taking shortcuts, but poor at steady practice; at times they are open and unobstructed, at times blocked; at times secure, at times in danger. Even if they happen to achieve a small success, it is often ruined soon afterward. How, then, can they fully investigate the principles of things, fully nourish their nature, and ultimately reach a state of accepting their fate? Only those who truly attain the precelestial Dao of Wuwei and practice it consistently will avoid failure.

The sage does not covet what the people covet, and so does not prize rare and precious goods. He does not study what the people study, and so can return to the nature from which they have strayed. He assists all things by following the natural patterns of their growth and change, and does not presume to act on his own.

This is Chapter Sixty-Five, “Those of Old Who Were Skilled in Practicing the Dao.”

In ancient times, those skilled at governing in accordance with the Dao (the Way) did not seek to make the people clever and full of schemes. They sought instead to keep them simple and free of excessive desires. The people are difficult to govern because they have too many cunning ideas. Thus, governing a state through schemes and cleverness brings disaster upon it; refraining from manipulating the people through cleverness brings the state good fortune. To understand these two approaches to governing is to know the guiding principle. To understand this principle at all times is called “mysterious De” (profound and subtle Virtue). Mysterious De is deep and enduring, running counter to ordinary practice. By following it, one ultimately attains the great harmony in which all things unfold naturally.

“The people may be guided to follow the Way, though they need not necessarily understand all of its principles first.” There are those who govern the people and those who are governed, so the people may share in the fruits of a successful undertaking without necessarily being suited to plan its beginnings together. If everything had to be fully understood by the people beforehand, it would be like trying to build a house in the middle of a busy road: even after three years, it would still be unfinished. Thus, rulers in ancient times who were skilled in practicing the Way did not expect the people to rely on their cleverness and intelligence to apply it. Instead, they guided them to follow the Way and remain simple.

Those who apply the Way through cleverness and intelligence are sages. Without gentlemen, no one would govern the people. Those who follow the Way and remain simple are ordinary people. Without the people, gentlemen could neither accomplish anything nor receive their support. If the people act solely through cleverness, they are prone to compete for advantage, scheme, and deceive; the more effort they expend, the more inept they become. If they follow the Way and remain simple, they return to an honest, unspoiled nature, find peace of mind, and live more easily. The people live by the Way every day without necessarily understanding its principles. Few understand the Way of a gentleman, much less the Way of a sage. This is Wuwei (non-action), through which nothing is left undone.

Here, “foolishness” means the simplicity that emerges from following the Way; “clarity” means the understanding that comes from following it. The intent is not to make the people deliberately foolish or clever, but to let each, according to the Way, give expression to clarity and simplicity in its proper role. This is a sage’s expedient means of adapting to the circumstances. The people are hard to govern because they have too much cleverness and contrivance. Governing a state through cleverness and contrivance brings calamity upon it. The people are easy to govern because they do not use their own cleverness and contrivance. Refraining from governing a state through such means is its good fortune. To understand these two principles is to become a standard that the people respect and follow. To hold to this standard constantly is “Mysterious De”—the profound virtue that accords with the Way of Heaven.

The virtue of the Way of Heaven is profound and far-reaching, and its workings often run counter to the direction in which things appear to move. The principles of number described in the Book of Changes likewise often proceed by reasoning in reverse: the celestial bodies revolve westward, while the sun, moon, and five planets move eastward; Heaven is higher in the southeast, while Earth is higher in the northwest; the land slopes downward to the southeast, while the Qi of Heaven descends and the Qi of Earth rises. These phenomena all run counter to the directions we ordinarily observe, yet their effects ultimately come together as one. Thus, unless one understands how to follow this principle of countervailing movement in the Way of Heaven and Earth and in the way of the sage, it is difficult to accomplish anything in the world. This is the meaning of “only then does one attain great harmony.”

“De” explains that the Dao is the Great Way that existed before Heaven and Earth. The Dao is the master of the mind and spirit within the human body, and the divine power that governs true Qi. “The people” here refers to the various parts within the body, such as the five organs, six viscera, and twelve bodily chambers. In ancient times, those skilled at caring for the body and preserving life did not let these bodily functions each rule on their own. Instead, they placed the mind and spirit in command. If every part acted independently, the body would fall ill first. How, then, could life be nurtured?

The people are difficult to govern because they have too much cleverness. When cleverness grows excessive, people pursue discernment single-mindedly; instead, they need to be guided back to simplicity, with the mind and spirit in command. If each part acts independently, the body will fall ill first. How, then, can life be nourished? The governance of the body and the governance of the state may be understood by analogy: governing the state through cleverness brings calamity upon it; refraining from rule imposed through cleverness brings it good fortune. Understanding these two ways of governing allows one to take them as principles for regulating body and mind and cultivating nature and life. To understand and follow these principles continually is called “Mysterious De” (profound and subtle Virtue). Mysterious De is vast and deep, embodying the principle by which Heaven and Earth, human beings, and all things come into being and change. Though it seems to run counter to the ordinary course of things, in the end it reaches a state of following the Great Way without losing one’s way.

Chapter Sixty-Six: The Rivers and Seas as Kings of the Valleys

The rivers and seas become the gathering place of the many valleys because they are adept at occupying a low position; thus they can collect the waters of a hundred streams. If sages wish to stand above the people, they speak with humility; if they wish to lead the people, they place themselves behind them. Thus, though sages hold high positions, people do not feel oppressed; though they go ahead, people do not feel hindered. For this reason, people throughout the world gladly support them and do not grow weary of them. Precisely because sages do not contend with others, no one in the world can contend with them.

The Jing says: The rivers and seas become kings of the valleys because they are adept at remaining low. When sages occupy positions above others, people do not feel burdened; when they lead the way, people do not feel harmed. Therefore, people throughout the world gladly support them and do not grow weary of them. Precisely because sages do not contend, no one in the world can contend with them.

The scripture says: Rivers and seas can become the leaders of the many valleys because they are good at staying low; that is how they gather all the streams. If a sage wishes to dwell above the people, he must be humble in his words. If he wishes to walk ahead of them, he must place himself behind them. Thus, though the sage occupies a high position, people do not feel oppressed; though he walks ahead of them, they do not feel hindered. So people throughout the realm willingly raise him up and do not reject him. Because he does not contend with others, no one in the realm can contend with him.

The commentary on the Daodejing says: A great state should be like the lower reaches of a river, staying low. Rivers and seas can become the destination of all streams because they are good at dwelling below; this is a symbol of the earth’s yielding nature and its place beneath all things. Of the seas in the four directions, the sea to the southeast is the largest, also because the land lies low there. The tides rise and fall in regular cycles, and their reach westward extends to a place more than a thousand li from Luoyang, almost to the heartland of the Central Plain. The islands along the southeastern coast often suffer floods, which is also related to the low-lying terrain. From this we can see that the key to rivers and seas gathering all streams is their low position.

A sage can become the leader of the people because he is good at addressing them with humility; he can walk ahead of them because he places himself behind them. By treating others humbly despite his exalted status, he wins the people’s deep support. When the sage leads the people with a joyful spirit, they forget their toil; when he leads them through danger, they forget death. By putting himself last, the sage can come to the fore; by setting aside his own interests, he can preserve himself.

Thus, though the sage stands above the people, they support him without feeling burdened by him. Though he walks before them, they look up to him without feeling harmed by him. People throughout the realm willingly raise him up and never tire of him because he does not contend with them. Because he does not contend, no one in the realm can contend with him.

The “De” (Virtue/Power) chapter points out that the Dantian (energy center), the sea of Qi, is where the True Qi of the Valley Spirit gathers. The True Qi of the Valley Spirit does not regard itself as important, yet it stands before everyone. People look up to it without feeling harmed. Thus, people throughout the world gladly elevate it and do not reject it, precisely because it does not contend with anyone. Because it does not contend, nothing in the world can contend with it.

The Dantian, the sea of Qi, is where the True Qi of the Valley Spirit returns and gathers. True Qi is skilled at remaining low, so it gathers here like streams flowing into the sea, becoming the “king” to which all valleys turn and the root that nourishes Heaven and Earth. If the mind-spirit is to dwell above the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), True Qi must be allowed to sink. If it is to go before the Five Phases, blood and Qi must be placed behind them. As the “ruler of the heart,” the mind-spirit is in name above the Five Phases, yet they gladly bear it and do not find it burdensome. The spirit is before the Five Phases, and they gladly follow it without feeling harmed.

Thus, the limbs, the six channels, and all the bones and body are glad to accept the mind-spirit’s direction and never weary of it, because the mind-spirit follows its nature and does not contend with the Five Phases for precedence. If it contends, the salty and bitter flavors cannot be harmonized, the sour and pungent cannot be brought into accord, the Qi of calm and simplicity cannot flow through, the Qi of emptiness cannot enter, True Qi cannot follow, and the spirit cannot remain settled. Then the hundred illnesses will arise—how could one cultivate the Dao? Only when the ruler of the heart does not contend can nothing among the Five Phases contend with it. These words reach deep.

“All Under Heaven Say…” Chapter, Chapter 67

People throughout the world say that the Dao (the Way) is vast and boundless, and does not seem like any particular thing. Precisely because it is vast, it does not resemble any one specific thing. If it already seemed identical to something, it would likely have become small and limited.

I have three precious treasures, which I have always upheld: the first is compassion, the second is frugality, and the third is not daring to put myself ahead of everyone under Heaven. With compassion, one can be courageous; by living frugally, one can have enough; by refusing to contend for the foremost place, one can become a leader who takes responsibility among the people.

Today, if you cast aside these three treasures yet still seek their corresponding benefits—giving up compassion while pursuing courage, abandoning frugality while pursuing abundance, or rejecting humility while striving to be first—you will head toward ruin. A compassionate person can prevail in battle and stand firm in defense. If Heaven intends to save someone, it will also protect that person with compassion.

The scripture explains further: People throughout the world say that the Dao (the Way) is vast and boundless, and does not seem like any particular thing. Precisely because it is vast, it does not resemble any one specific thing. If it already seemed identical to something, it would likely have become small. I have three precious treasures, which I have always upheld: the first is compassion, the second is frugality, and the third is not daring to put myself ahead of everyone under Heaven. With compassion, one can be courageous; through frugality, one can have enough; by refusing to contend for the foremost place, one can become a leader among the people. Today, if you cast aside compassion, frugality, and humility, and instead pursue bravado, extravagance, and being first, you will head toward ruin. A compassionate person can prevail in battle and stand firm in defense; if Heaven intends to save that person, it will protect them with compassion.

The Daoist Scripture says: The Great Dao is vast, with no boundaries; it is also so subtle that within it there is nothing that can be further divided. People under heaven all call me great, yet think I do not resemble the Great Dao. Can the Dao really be large or small? It is called “great” precisely because it cannot be depicted like ordinary things. If “having no inner parts” is taken to mean that the Dao is large, people under heaven will call me great, yet still think I do not resemble the Dao. Can the Dao really be large or small? It is called “great” precisely because it does not resemble ordinary things. If I took “great” to be the Dao’s form, I would long ago have become someone who knew only petty conduct.

I have three treasures that people should cherish and hold fast to. The first is compassion, the second is frugality, and the third is not daring to contend to be first under heaven. Because of compassion, one can be courageous; those with benevolence and virtue can also have courage. Because of frugality, one can be expansive; only by holding fast to frugality can one make far-reaching plans. Because one does not dare to contend to be first under heaven, one can become the leader of all vessels. By placing oneself behind others, one can in fact go ahead of them, and thus fulfill oneself.

Courage must have compassion as its root, expansiveness must have frugality as its root, and taking the lead must have yielding place as its root. Today, if one abandons compassion and seeks only force, then force without regard for propriety and righteousness will surely bring disorder. If one abandons frugality and seeks only expansion, then expansion without restraint will surely invite calamity. If one abandons yielding and seeks only to come first, then striving to lead without a soft and humble spirit will surely make one overbearing. Once disorder and overbearing force arrive together, death will not be far away.

When compassion is applied in warfare, it can bring victory; when applied in defense, it can make defenses secure. Therefore, when Heaven wishes to bestow the Great Dao and save a person, it first protects that person with compassion, restrains them with frugality, and then makes them soft and humble by keeping them from daring to contend to be first. In this way, they can become the foremost among those who hold the sacred vessels—the symbols of authority over the world and political power in the state.

The Scripture of De (Virtue/Power) says: People under heaven all say that I have attained the Great Dao, yet think I do not resemble the Great Dao. When applied in defense, it can make defenses secure. Therefore, when Heaven wishes to bestow the Great Dao and save a person, it first protects that person with compassion, restrains them with frugality, and then makes them soft and humble by keeping them from daring to contend to be first. In this way, they can become the foremost among those who hold the sacred vessels.

The chapter on De says: Everyone under Heaven says that the Dao I speak of is vast beyond measure, yet it seems not to resemble the Dao. Calling the Dao “great” makes it seem unlike the Dao. If the Dao were truly only “great,” would that not be the view of the shallow-minded rather than the understanding of those who have attained insight? The Dao fills all under Heaven; there is nothing that does not contain it. How, then, can we judge whether something resembles the Dao by its size?

The Perfected Man Ziyang said, “Everyone carries within themselves the medicine of long life, but through ignorance and delusion they cast it away for nothing.” He also said, “This supreme treasure is found in every household, but fools cannot fully recognize it.” How, then, can the Dao be regarded as merely something “great”?

Thus it is said: “I have three treasures, which people should cherish and uphold.” The first is compassion: not being cruel. Through compassion without cruelty, one is truly courageous. The second is frugality: not being greedy. Through frugality without greed, one becomes broad-minded. The third is not daring to place oneself ahead of everyone under Heaven, not forcing one’s way to the front. By not competing to lead or throwing one’s weight around, one can become the leader on whom all people rely.

Only by not striving to be the bravest person under Heaven can one sustain compassion to the end. Only by not striving to be the richest and most magnanimous person under Heaven can one sustain frugality. Only by not striving to stand ahead of everyone under Heaven can one become the leader on whom all people rely.

Sharp weapons are inauspicious things and should not be used unless there is no alternative. Even when they must be used, calm restraint is best. To celebrate a victory is to delight in killing. Those who delight in killing will themselves eventually be killed, and so cannot prevail under Heaven.

Today, some abandon compassion and yet consider themselves brave, becoming cruel; they abandon frugality and yet consider themselves generous, becoming greedy; they abandon humility and yielding, yet insist on taking the lead, becoming forceful and warlike. Such people are certain to meet destruction soon. They do not understand that compassion is the very foundation of waging war and protecting the state. When troops are directed with compassion, the people under Heaven will submit; when they are directed with brutality, even one’s own kin will rebel. Relying on the strength of the people’s submission to confront forces whose own kin have rebelled, the noble person can avoid battle; if battle comes, victory is certain. When a state is protected with compassion, the people under Heaven will help; when it is governed through greed, the people under Heaven will resent it. Relying on the people’s help to withstand their resentment, the noble person can avoid defending the state; if defense is needed, it will surely hold firm.

Therefore, when Heaven intends to send down the Great Dao to save a person, it will surely give them compassion as armor and sharp weapons for their protection.

Those who excel at leading troops do not flaunt their courage or seek to overpower others. Those who excel at fighting do not give way to anger easily. Those who excel at winning do not engage others in direct combat. Those who excel at employing people always place themselves humbly beneath them. This is called the virtue of non-contention, the ability to draw on the strength of many, and harmony with the Way of Heaven. It has been the highest principle since antiquity.

The scripture says: Those who excel at leading troops do not flaunt their force; those who excel at fighting do not give way to anger easily; those who excel at winning do not engage their enemies in battle; those who excel at employing people first place themselves humbly beneath them. This is called non-contention and harmony with the Way of Heaven. It has been the highest principle since antiquity.

The scripture also says: Those who excel at leading troops do not flaunt their force; those who excel at fighting do not give way to anger easily; those who excel at winning do not engage their enemies in battle; those who excel at employing people first place themselves humbly beneath them. This is called the virtue of non-contention, the ability to draw on the strength of many, and harmony with the Way of Heaven. It has been the highest principle since antiquity.

A Daoist text gives this example: When King Wu of Zhou led his army across the Meng Ford on the Yellow River, eight hundred feudal lords from across the realm arrived there together, without having arranged to meet. King Wu judged that the time was not yet ripe, so he waited another two years before attacking and defeating King Zhou of Shang. This may be called “those who excel at leading troops do not flaunt their force.”

At dawn on the day of the jiazi cycle, King Wu reached Muye, on the outskirts of the Shang capital, and held a ceremony to rally his troops. He leaned on a yellow battle axe in his left hand and directed the army with a white banner in his right. This may be called “those who excel at fighting do not give way to anger easily.”

King Zhou commanded an army as numerous as a forest, yet no one could withstand the Zhou forces. The Shang vanguard turned its weapons around and attacked those behind it, then fled in panic. Blood flowed in such quantities that it could float a pestle used for pounding grain. King Wu went to war wearing only his military clothes, and the realm was brought to peace. This may be called “those who excel at winning do not engage their enemies in direct combat.”

King Zhou had countless millions of subjects, yet he turned their hearts against him and destroyed their loyalty. King Wu had only three thousand brave warriors, yet he united them in purpose and loyalty. Thus the great states feared his strength, while the small states cherished his virtue. This may be called “those who excel at employing people always place themselves humbly beneath them.” King Wu embodied the virtue of non-contention, knew how to draw on the strength of many, and was in harmony with the Way of Heaven, becoming an exemplar of the highest principle since antiquity.

The De chapter says: Where all under Heaven converge is like the way of the female under Heaven: it always overcomes the strong through gentleness and stillness, and keeps the strong beneath it. King Wu embodied the virtue of non-contention, knew how to draw on the strength of many, and was in harmony with the Way of Heaven, becoming an exemplar of the highest principle since antiquity.

The essence of De (Virtue/Power) is this: it is the root from which all things under Heaven join and give rise to one another, like the mother of all things. It consistently overcomes strength through gentleness and stillness, and occupies a low position through humility. Thus Yin is above while Yang moves downward; at the beginning and end, strength and force are manifest, while in the middle there is refinement and gentleness. From this we can see that those who understand how to manage the fire’s timing and measure in cultivation or action do not rely on force alone. Those who truly understand the Great Dao do not assert their strength yet can meet strength; they do not deliberately embellish things yet accord with their inherent patterns. Hence it is said, “One skilled at serving as a commander does not rely on force.”

Even victory won by force of arms is inauspicious—how much more so is battle driven by anger? Those skilled in warfare do not become angry; often, without fighting, they can bring their opponents to submission. The sage can perceive the Dao at a glance and attune to it in spirit. Even a turtle facing another turtle, or a crane calling to another crane, can respond to one another through their Shen and Qi; how much more can those skilled at winning? Therefore, there is no need to fight others. Those skilled at employing people always remain humble and place themselves beneath them.

The softest thing under Heaven can pass through the hardest things in the world. This is the De of non-contention. Because it does not contend, no one under Heaven can contend with it; this is the art of drawing on the strength of others. Whatever the people desire, grant it in keeping with their wishes; whatever they detest, remove in keeping with their hearts. Those who follow this Dao may be said to accord with the Way of Heaven. Since ancient times, no principle has been higher.

Chapter Sixty-Nine: On the Use of Arms

When the Dao De Jing speaks of using arms, it says: “I dare not take the initiative in attack, but would rather take the position of response; I dare not advance an inch, but would rather retreat a foot.” This is called deploying troops as though there were no formation, extending an arm as though there were no arm, facing an enemy as though there were no opponent, and holding a weapon as though there were no weapon. No calamity is greater than underestimating the enemy; to do so is nearly to lose what is precious in oneself. Thus, when two armies are locked in battle, the side that meets it with sorrow and caution is the one that prevails.

Daoists say, “When using military force, one should not be eager to take the initiative and attack. An army on campaign must observe discipline; violating it invites danger. To remain on the guest’s side means to draw on the strength of others. Thus one does not rush to attack, but always takes a defensive position.

Two-thirds of the realm under the Yin-Shang dynasty had submitted to King Wen of Zhou, yet he continued to serve the Shang. For nine years, the great undertaking remained unfinished. Only when King Wu and the Duke of Zhou carried on his purpose was it finally accomplished. Therefore, one should not rush forward even a single inch, but should carefully retreat a foot.

Tang of Shang and King Wu of Zhou followed the will of Heaven and the people in overthrowing the old dynasties. Tradition says that people complained when their armies marched east, and complained again when they marched west. The people longed for a wise ruler to come, believing his arrival would free them from hardship. Wherever the army went, families celebrated together. This is what is meant by acting without seeming to launch a forced attack, resisting the enemy without relying on a show of force, restraining the enemy without creating a powerful foe, and overcoming the enemy without depending on weapons.

The junior tutor Shaoshi said, ‘One who ought not to claim the throne is no true opponent.’ The state of Chu inflicted a crushing defeat on Shaoshi’s side and thereby destroyed the state of Sui. No calamity is greater than underestimating an enemy; to do so is to come close to losing one’s own treasure. Wu and Yue fought each other. Under pressure, Goujian of Yue asked to submit to Wu, and Wu spared Yue. In the end, however, Goujian destroyed Wu. Thus, when two armies are evenly matched and locked in battle, the side animated by grief and resolve is more likely to prevail.”

Deng Qi explained that the Perfected Ziyang once said: “When refining the medicine, you must use the ingredients in the right proportions and master the firing process so that Yin and Yang are harmonized.” Nurturing and refining the elixir cannot be done without controlling the fire; the key is to regulate it properly. There are civil and martial fires, as well as the distinction between guest and host positions, much as warfare requires careful strategy.

Ziyang also said that in warfare one must distinguish the main force from the opposing force: let the other side occupy the host position and take the guest position oneself. In battle, never underestimate the enemy, or you may lose your own priceless treasure. This is precisely the principle being discussed here. In general, the way to wage war should be guided by caution and yielding. Caution prevents underestimating the enemy, allowing you to conserve your strength while the other side wears itself out, blunt its sharpness, wait calmly for it to act, and use civil fire to control martial fire. In this way, even a conflict at a banquet table can be resolved: the other side can be made to yield without a battle.

The Dao De Jing says that one who wages war declares: “I dare not take the host position, but would rather take the guest position; I dare not advance an inch, but would rather retreat a foot.” This is to move without form, strike without arms, confront an enemy when there is no enemy, and take up weapons when there are none. No calamity is greater than underestimating the enemy; to do so is nearly to lose one’s own treasure.

Ziyang also said: “When one phase has passed and the next begins, the medicine’s nature becomes balanced and its qualities complete. Gather the medicine, place it in the furnace, and refine it. Once it has been refined, nurture it with a gentle fire, letting the medicine cook of itself. The supreme medicine consists, broadly speaking, of cinnabar and mercury, and nothing else. Blend them together and place them in the furnace; their subduing, nurturing, refining, and firing all depend on mastery of the fire. If the fire is too gentle, the medicine will not be fully refined; if it is too fierce, the medicine will scatter. So never underestimate the task, or you may nearly lose the treasure. The civil and martial fires must work together, with firmness and softness alternating. Only by regulating them properly can the right balance be reached.”

Thus, when two armies face one another, the side that holds compassion can prevail. When both sides are locked in a standoff and evenly matched, anyone who simply forces a victory is bound to fail. If there is truly no alternative, use humble words to show weakness and a gentle manner to accommodate the other side. Let the other side fully satisfy its own aims; only then will there be an opportunity to overcome it.

My words are easy to understand and easy to put into practice. Yet no one under Heaven can understand them or put them into practice. My words have a foundation, and my actions have a governing principle. Because people lack true understanding, they cannot understand me. Those who know me are few, and so I seem precious. Thus the sage wears coarse cloth while keeping jade hidden in his breast.

The scripture says: My words are easy to understand and put into practice, but precisely because they are so plain, people under Heaven cannot understand them or follow them. Words have a foundation, and actions have a guiding purpose. People lack understanding. It is like the sage carrying jade beneath coarse clothes, where no one can see it.

The scripture also says: My words are easy to understand and put into practice, yet people under Heaven still cannot understand or put them into practice. Words have a foundation, and actions have a guiding purpose. People do not understand me because they lack insight; those who know me are few, and so I seem precious. The sage wears coarse cloth and hides jade within, but no one recognizes his worth.

The Dao is close at hand, yet people go far away in search of it. Matters are easy by nature, yet people insist on starting with what is difficult. All things under Heaven embody the Dao; there is nothing that needs special selection. Thus the Dao is easy to understand, and matters are easy to put into practice: the Dao is right beside us, and we can begin with what is easy. Yet people under Heaven cannot understand or put it into practice because they abandon what is near for what is far, and avoid what is easy in favor of what is difficult.

People under Heaven often say, “I am vast and enduring,” though the foundation of the Dao is exceedingly subtle. To speak of Heaven and Earth, one must trace them back to the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), the fundamental state before Heaven and Earth were differentiated. To speak of the myriad things, one must trace them back to Heaven and Earth; to speak of men and women, one must trace them back to their parents. This is what it means for words to have a foundation and actions to have a governing principle. People do not understand this foundation, and so they cannot understand me. Few truly understand me now; the fewer who know, the more my value stands out. Thus the sage wears coarse cloth and keeps jade hidden in his breast—who could recognize his worth?

The commentary says: The Perfected Man Ziyang once said that everyday sayings also contain the principles of the sages, and one should carefully reflect on their meaning. If one can seek out principles by looking back at ordinary things, then even the smallest things in the world can become treasures.

“The principles I speak of are easy to understand and easy to put into practice.” Yet when people are asked about their basis, no one in the world can understand or practice them. Why is this? Because principles have foundations, and the working of things follows governing laws. The foundations of speech cannot be separated from the Supreme Ultimate, the Two Principles, the Four Images, and the Eight Trigrams. The forces that govern the working of things cannot be separated from Heaven and Earth, the sun and moon, male and female, or Water and Fire. When these laws are applied between Heaven and Earth, all things grow naturally, so they are easy to understand and put into practice. When they are applied to the human body, the heart and kidneys correspond to Water and Fire; yet people in the world still do not understand or know how to use them.

People are ignorant of this, and so they cannot understand me. Perhaps only Heaven can understand me. Those who truly understand me are therefore few. Since so few understand me, the Dao I speak of seems precious. The sage does not prize fine clothes, but values cultivation of De; hence the saying, “Wearing coarse cloth, he keeps jade in his breast.” People look only at appearances and not within. How, then, could they understand the sage’s De?

Chapter 71: Knowing That You Do Not Know

Knowing that one does not know is wisdom. Not knowing, yet thinking that one knows, is a failing. Only by recognizing this failing as a failing can one avoid being troubled by it. The sage is free of this failing precisely because he treats it as something to be wary of, and so is able to avoid it.

The Jing says: To know that one does not know is the highest attainment; not knowing, yet pretending to know, is a failing. Only by recognizing one’s failing and remaining alert to it can one avoid falling into it. The sage is free of this failing precisely because he treats it as a failing.

The Dao says: To know what you know, and to know what you do not know—this is true understanding. Thus, those who truly understand do not speak lightly, while those who talk on and on may not truly understand. Yet the principles of the sage cannot be fully expressed through words and language. They are like a pearl rolling around in a tray: wherever it turns, it finds a fitting place, and in its use, it moves freely everywhere. The Great Dao lies beyond words. To act in accord with nature and know that there are things you do not know is true understanding. What happens if you treat what you do not know as though you know it?

Those who truly know do not presume to know everything; genuine knowledge is a superior state. To claim knowledge when you do not truly know is a fault. If you can recognize the fault of “presuming to know” and regard it as your own fault, it will not ensnare you. Why is the sage free of this fault? Because he recognizes as faults the things he must guard against, and so they do him no harm.

De (Virtue/Power) says: My words are easy to understand and easy to put into practice. Knowing that there are things you do not know is superior wisdom. Yet people throughout the world often cannot do this; treating what you do not know as though you know it is a fault. Therefore, in governing the world, the sage seeks to quiet people’s restless minds and provide the people with enough food and clothing. He weakens their ambition to compete and prevail, and strengthens their physical vitality, so that the people have fewer schemes and calculations and fewer excessive desires. Knowing that there are things you do not know is a superior state, and it was the practice of ancient students to cultivate themselves.

Those who boast of themselves are not wise; those who insist they are right do not gain recognition. Excess food and burdensome behavior are often despised. Treating what you do not know as though you know it is a fault. If you regard a fault as a fault, it will not trouble you; if you cannot recognize your own faults, you will truly be caught in them. The sage is not troubled by this fault because he remains alert to it and works to remedy it.

Chapter 72: The People Do Not Fear Authority

When the people no longer fear coercive power, true power will arrive. Do not regard the world you inhabit as small, or despise your life. Only when you do not despise life will life cease to weary you.

Thus, the sage understands himself without making a show of it, and cherishes himself without elevating himself. He lets go of narrowness and aversion, and chooses self-knowledge and self-care.

The Daodejing says, “Heaven’s wisdom comes from the wisdom of the people; the awe inspired by Heaven comes from the people’s reverence for its might. Heaven protects the people and appoints rulers and teachers for them. Therefore, if the people do not revere its might, Heaven’s great power will descend upon them.”

A person should dwell in the broadest home under Heaven, stand in the most upright place under Heaven, and walk along the broadest road under Heaven. When successful, they should lead the people in following the Great Way together; when unsuccessful, they should cultivate themselves alone. This is how a great person acts.

Some people, because they love someone, hope that person will live; because they hate someone, they hope that person will die. This makes their home narrow and amounts to despising their own life. How constricted their hearts are! So do not confine your heart: this is how you understand your own nature. Do not despise life: this is how you cherish it. Only by not despising your life can you continue to cherish it over time.

Thus, the sage understands himself but does not make a show of himself; he cherishes himself but does not exalt himself. The essence of the Great Way lies in self-knowledge: one is discerning but does not boast of it. The essence of De (Virtue/Power) lies in self-regard: one has a good reputation but does not make oneself exalted. When the Great Way is clear, who could fail to see its brilliance? Why make a show of it? When great De is worthy of honor, who would fail to respect its reputation? Why exalt oneself?

If you are discerning but deliberately show it off, you narrow your own heart. If you have a reputation but exalt yourself, you despise your own life. Is this not confusion? So the sage lets go of narrowness and chooses self-knowledge; lets go of despising life and chooses to cherish it.

The “De” chapter says: People have things to fear, and they must not be left without fear. Laws and standards are like the current of a river: they help people avoid danger. When people face water and fire, I have seen some step into them and lose their lives. Should they not be afraid?

If people do not even fear the force of water and fire, then dangers greater than these will come. When people understand that water and fire deserve respect, they can use them in daily life to prepare food and sustain themselves. If they do not respect them, they will recklessly cross rivers or leap into boiling water and blazing flames, without hesitation. I have seen people lose their lives this way. So I say: greater dangers will come.

When people do not fear force, they will feel their dwelling is cramped. When greater dangers come, they will grow weary of their own lives. Do not make people feel their dwelling is cramped; then they will understand the need for fear. Do not make them weary of life; then greater dangers will not be brought upon them. So I say: only those who do not grow weary will not be rejected. Daily food and drink are meant to sustain life—what is there to grow weary of?

Thus, the sage is always aware of what he lacks and does not consider himself overly wise. He cherishes his cultivation in entering the Dao, and does not prize a reputation for surpassing ordinary people. This is to set aside the former and take up the latter.

Chapter 73: Daring to Act Boldly

Those who dare to rush ahead are likely to lose their lives; those who dare to exercise restraint and refrain from rash action preserve their lives. One way is beneficial, the other harmful. What does Heaven’s Dao abhor? Who knows the reason? Even the sage is cautious about this and does not presume to judge lightly.

Heaven’s Dao does not contend with people, yet excels at winning; it gives no commands, yet excels at responding. It does not summon things deliberately, yet they come of themselves. It seems calm and at ease, yet excels at making arrangements. Heaven’s Dao is like a vast net: its mesh may appear wide, yet nothing slips through.

The Dao De Jing says: Those who recklessly flaunt their strength are likely to bring death upon themselves; those who know restraint and do not rush to display their strength are more likely to preserve their lives. Once the gains and harms of these two approaches are understood, their outcomes are clear. Yet who can know why Heaven’s Dao abhors what it does? Even the sages find it difficult to understand completely. Heaven’s Dao does not contend, yet excels at winning; it does not speak, yet responds well; it issues no summons, yet things come of themselves. It is open and clear, and skilled at arranging and planning. Thus Heaven’s net may seem loosely woven, but nothing escapes it.

The explanation of the “Dao” is this: Compassion makes one courageous. If one merely flaunts one’s strength and loves to fight, one will harm others. Those who kill through force will ultimately be killed in turn. That is why rushing recklessly to display one’s strength invites death. To hold fast to the highest courage under Heaven, to dwell in the stillest place under Heaven, to overcome hardness with softness and heat with stillness: by practicing restraint and avoiding reckless action, one can preserve one’s life.

The advantages and harms of these two approaches are plain for all to see. But what Heaven’s Dao abhors, and why, is something even the sages cannot fully understand. Broadly speaking, Heaven’s Dao abhors those who flaunt their strength, contend, and thereby bring death upon themselves. It also abhors those who act willfully and recklessly, delight in winning, speak at length without understanding the principles involved, or prize the unusual while lacking any plan.

Heaven’s Dao does not contend, yet excels at winning. The earth performs the work of growth and storage, and with its deep De (Virtue) bears all things. It does not speak, yet responds to all things. When people embody the virtues of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom, they can accomplish their work and benefit all things; without being summoned, they can bring things to fruition naturally. This is the meaning of Heaven’s Dao being open and clear, and skilled at arranging and planning.

Heaven and earth each rest in their proper place, while the sages enable the functions of all things to reach completion. When human plans accord with the plans of spirits and gods, the people too can take part in accomplishing their work. Thus, those who excel at winning do not contend; those who excel at responding do not speak at length; what comes naturally requires no summons; and those who excel at planning act with openness. This is Heaven’s Dao. Why is it so? Because Heaven’s net is vast: it may appear loosely woven, yet nothing slips through. Heaven covers the earth like an immense net. Empty, still, and without form, it may seem sparse, yet nothing escapes it.

The explanation of “De” (Virtue/Power) is this: Military strategy has a saying: Do not dare take the role of the attacker; be willing instead to take the role of the defender. Do not dare advance an inch; prefer to retreat a foot. Those who dare to flaunt their strength and attack rashly bring death upon themselves, like those who launch an assault and press forward. Knowing restraint and avoiding reckless advance may look like yielding, yet this allows one to escape hidden dangers and preserve oneself.

The strategists say: Do not dare to attack first; take the defensive. Do not dare to advance even one step; it is better to retreat one step. To press forward in bold, decisive attack is to take the initiative and advance, and may therefore invite death. To be bold enough not to contend or rush ahead, but instead to defend and yield a step, may preserve one’s life. Each course has its advantages and risks: some are killed because they dare to face death, while others survive because they seek to live. Each should choose the kind of courage suited to them.

Who among the people knows why Heaven abhors what it abhors? Even the sage finds such matters difficult to fathom. This is the profound workings of Heaven and Earth. The Dao of Heaven does not contend with the myriad things, yet excels at overcoming them. If you would make something contract, you must first let it expand. Heaven gives no commands, yet the myriad things respond: the four seasons turn and all things grow in just this way. It does not summon them, yet they come of themselves; when the myriad things flourish, each returns to its root. The Dao of Heaven seems straightforward, yet is skilled at arranging things: the heavens complete their three hundred and sixty degrees; the Five Planets align with the twenty-eight lunar mansions; the sun and moon revolve, cold and heat alternate, and all things grow, from which the years take shape. Has Heaven ever deceived anyone? Thus it is said that the Dao of Heaven is open and impartial, yet skilled in its designs.

Enter the realm of the Dao: there is no form or name, no shape or image, yet it governs the myriad things, and all things are contained within it. This is what is meant by saying, “The net may appear loosely woven, yet nothing slips through.”

Chapter 74: The People Are Not Always Afraid of Death

The people are often not afraid of death. How, then, can death be used to frighten them? If the people were always afraid of death, then if I could seize and kill those who commit unlawful acts, who would dare do so again? Yet there is another who truly holds authority over killing. To take the place of the one who holds authority over killing and kill people is like taking the place of a master carpenter and cutting wood. Few who cut wood in place of a master carpenter avoid injuring their hands.

The Dao (the Way, here referring to the fundamental principles governing the natural order) infers an ending from the beginning of things and thus understands the principles of life and death. Everyone in the world knows that life ends in death, just as dawn must follow night, yet they do not understand that life contains death and death also contains life. Ordinary people often do not fear death because they do not understand the principles of life. If they understood how precious life is, who would not fear death?

It is human nature that reckless acts of bravado often bring a person to a violent end. How, then, can death be used to frighten people? (The original repeats several sentences from above here.) If people understood the principles of death, who would not wish to live? So in how one conducts oneself and acts, understanding restraint and avoiding rash action are what make survival possible.

Some people think they can seize and kill others, and that no one would dare resist. But the Creator—the power that brings all things into being and governs them—holds life and death in its care. Ordinarily, those who are to be killed should be dealt with by the officials charged with that duty. If someone acts outside the authority of the Creator of Heaven and Earth and kills a person who should not be killed, they are usurping the officials’ role.

To act in place of those who govern killing is to act recklessly by human power, like taking an axe in the place of a master craftsman and swinging it through the air as it cuts into wood. If one truly has the skill of a master craftsman, one could shave away the white clay on another person’s nose without injuring them. Without that skill, however, anyone who rashly takes over the task may fail to remove all the clay—and cannot even be sure of keeping their own hand unharmed.

Laozi says: When the people do not fear the threats of those in power, an even greater threat will descend. So rulers govern the people through force, making them afraid to reject that rule. When the people do not fear death, an even greater calamity of death will come. So rulers use execution and the threat of death to make them afraid.

If the people have never feared death, how can they be threatened with execution? This shows that people naturally fear death. If the people can always be made to cherish life and fear death, then the workings of Heaven and Earth will surely not take their lives lightly. Even those whose actions are unusual yet accord with the right way cannot easily be made to perish by the workings of Heaven and Earth. If so, how can those who think they can seize and kill such people be sure they will succeed?

Ordinarily, the force charged with killing carries out punishments, and those it kills are people who have never feared death and whose crimes warrant execution. How can those who cherish life and do not deserve death be seized and killed at will? To execute people in place of the force charged with killing is no better than letting those responsible for administering punishments follow established procedures. It is like taking an axe to wood in place of a great carpenter. Even a carpenter like Lun Bian thought this difficult; how much harder, then, to shape the wood into a tenon and mortise? Few who attempt it will avoid injuring their hands.

On the People Going Hungry (Chapter 75)

The people go hungry because the rulers levy too many taxes; that is why they starve. The people are difficult to govern because the rulers interfere too much and impose their will; that is why they are difficult to govern. The people take death lightly because the rulers make them strive too hard to stay alive and cling too fiercely to life; that is why they take death lightly. Only by not treating the pursuit of survival as something to chase single-mindedly can one surpass those who value life too highly.

The scripture says: The people go hungry because the rulers levy too many taxes; the people are difficult to govern because the rulers interfere too much and impose their will; the people take death lightly because they strive too hard to stay alive. Only by not making the pursuit of survival an object of obsessive striving can one rise above those who value life too highly.

In the ruler’s kitchen, rich cuts of meat are piled high, and the stables are full of well-fed horses, while the people look gaunt with hunger and people lie dead in the fields. This is like driving wild beasts to devour people. People find it abhorrent when wild beasts eat one another; how, then, can someone who leads the people stand by and watch them starve to death?

The people go hungry because those in power levy excessive taxes and take too much of their grain, bringing famine in their wake. When rulers interfere too much in governing the people, imposing harsh laws, wrongdoing flourishes. As prohibitions multiply, so does deceit. The people are difficult to govern precisely because rulers meddle too much. If those in power follow nature and reduce their interference, the world will settle of its own accord.

When I practice Wuwei (non-action)—interfering less and following the natural changes of things—the people transform themselves. When I value stillness, the people set themselves right. It is like water: water can bear a boat, but it can also overturn one. This means that the people’s strength can support a ruler or overthrow one.

Excessive cherishing often brings great expense; storing up too much ultimately leads to heavy losses. Those who know contentment will not be disgraced; those who know where to stop will not fall into danger. In this way, they can endure.

People fail to value life because they devote themselves to pursuing abundant comforts, and so they take death lightly. Only by taking the Dao as one’s foundation, rather than making the pursuit of livelihood and pleasure life’s chief concern, can one act more wisely than by simply placing supreme value on one’s own life. Is this not clear?

Those in positions of authority often find that their preferences are pursued with even greater eagerness by those below them. The human spirit naturally prefers stillness, yet thoughts disturb it; the heart naturally prefers calm, yet desires pull it away. When desires are often dispelled, the heart naturally grows quiet; when the heart is cleared, the spirit naturally becomes lucid. Then the many desires will not arise, and the Three Poisons—greed, anger, and delusion—will also be eliminated.

The people are poor because rulers impose excessive taxes, and so the people go hungry. A person’s genuine Qi (vital energy) weakens because desires in the heart-mind disturb their De (Virtue/Power), and so their genuine Qi declines. The people are difficult to govern because rulers take action and interfere too much; genuine Qi is difficult to nurture because the heart and spirit are unsettled.

The people do not cherish life because rulers pursue comfort and enjoyment to excess; people treat life lightly because they give too little attention to the Way of nurturing life. If one does not make the pursuit of the conditions for survival a priority, but instead devotes oneself to nurturing life, then although securing survival is certainly valuable, nurturing life is far better than merely pursuing survival. Thus, nurturing life is superior to valuing external conditions for survival.

Chapter Seventy-Six: The People’s Lives

When people are alive, their bodies are soft; after death, they become stiff. When plants and trees are growing, they are tender and pliant; after they wither and die, they become dry and hard. Therefore, hardness and forcefulness belong to the realm of death, while softness and gentleness belong to the realm of life. Thus, an army that relies on force will not win, and a tree that grows too hard is easily broken. The strong occupy the lower position; the soft and weak, by contrast, occupy the higher one.

The Jing (classic) says: When people are alive, they are soft; as they approach death, they become stiff. When plants and trees first emerge, they are tender and pliant; as they approach withering and death, they become dry and hard. Therefore, hardness and forcefulness belong to the realm of death, while softness and gentleness belong to the realm of life. Thus, an army that relies on force will not win, and a hard tree is easily broken. The strong occupy the lower position; the soft and weak, by contrast, occupy the higher one.

The Dao teaches that water appears weak and yielding, yet it can flow across the four seas without being exhausted. Mountains appear solid and strong, yet even the Five Sacred Peaks will eventually collapse. Thus, what is softest in the world can pass through what is hardest, and the weakest force can overcome the strongest.

While alive, the human body is soft; after death, it becomes stiff. When plants and trees first grow, softness and tenderness are their defining qualities. The Zhen and Xun trigrams of the Book of Changes, which symbolize thunder and wind and also represent plants and trees, correspond to this growth: whatever the soil—barren, fertile, saline, or alkaline—plants and trees grow again and emerge through the earth with ease. As they near death, by contrast, they become hard and withered. The Kan and Li trigrams, which respectively symbolize water and fire, describe wood as hard and knotted at its core, or as hollow in the trunk with withered branches. This is why hardness and strength belong to death, while softness and weakness belong to growth.

An army that relies on force will struggle to win; a tree that grows too hard will be cut down. The tree is cut into lumber for this very reason. The strong, therefore, often occupy the lower position, while the soft and weak occupy the higher one. The Zhen and Dui trigrams belong to the Yin Qi of Heaven, while Xun and Gen belong to the Yang Qi of Earth. When describing the beginning of Heaven and Earth, Yin Qi is above and Yang Qi below; they join and interact, bringing harmony. Once Heaven and Earth have taken shape, however, Yang is above and Yin below, establishing the positions of high and low. Thus, when Earth is above Heaven, the result is “Tai” (Peace); when Heaven is below Earth, the result is “Pi” (Standstill). The strong below and the soft above: this is the way Heaven and Earth move.

Deng Qi explains that Qian and Kun join and give rise to Kan and Li. The Kan trigram originally belongs to the body of Kun, but later acquires the middle line of Qian, so it is called the “middle son.” The Li trigram originally belongs to the body of Qian, but later acquires the middle line of Kun, so it is called the “middle daughter.” Kan is yin on the outside and yang within, yet is called the middle son; Li is yang on the outside and yin within, yet is called the middle daughter.

Men are yang on the outside and yin within, symbolized by Li Fire; women are yin on the outside and yang within, symbolized by Kan Water. This is what is meant by the sun and moon shining together, and water and fire being reversed. Broadly speaking, those who cultivate life and refine their destiny must take the central yang line of Kan and use it to transform the central yin line of Li. Thus Perfected Person Ziyang says: “Take the full yang line from the center of Kan and kindle the yin line in the belly of the Li palace. From then on, transform it into the firm, vigorous nature of Qian; whether hidden or soaring, it is governed by the mind.” This is precisely the principle being described.

At birth, a person is soft and weak, symbolized by the yin line in Li; at death, the body is stiff and rigid, symbolized by the yang line in Kan. Yin is said to govern death, so why is it also said to bring life? Yang is said to govern life, so why is it also linked with death? Only through this mutual transformation of yin and yang can something be called the Dao. Yin cannot grow without yang, and yang cannot complete its transformations without yin. This describes using the transformations of yin and yang to harmonize the creative workings of Heaven and Earth. Plants and all other things are the same. Thus it is said that the strong occupy the lower position and the weak the upper, just as yin is above while yang moves downward. Is this principle not profound?

“The Way of Heaven” (Chapter 77)

Isn’t the Way of Heaven like drawing a bow? What is too high is pressed down; what is too low is raised up. What is in excess is reduced, and what is insufficient is replenished. The Way of Heaven reduces what is in excess and adds to what is insufficient. The ways of the human world are often the opposite: they take from those who lack and provide for those who already have plenty. Who can take what they have in excess and use it to serve the world? Only one who follows the Dao can do so. Thus the sage acts without claiming credit, achieves merit without taking possession of it, and does not wish to display their own worth.

The Daodejing says: “Is the way of Heaven not like this? It takes from what is in excess and gives to the world below. Only one who has attained the Dao can do this.” Therefore, the sage acts without relying on his own actions; when his work is done, he does not claim the credit; he does not wish to display his worth.

It also says: “The way of Heaven is like drawing a bow: if the string is pulled too high, it is lowered; if it is too low, it is raised. Where there is excess, something is taken away; where there is too little, something is added. The way of Heaven reduces what is in excess and replenishes what is insufficient. The ways of the human world are the opposite: they often take from what is insufficient to supply what is in excess. Who can take from what is in excess to benefit the world? Only one who has attained the Dao can do this. Therefore, the sage acts without relying on his own actions; when his work is done, he does not claim the credit; he does not wish to display his virtue.”

The Threefold Explanation of the True Scripture of the Dao says: “The way of Heaven flows in a full, rounded course and changes beyond prediction. It embraces the earth and brings forth the myriad things. This is like a drawn bow. The sky as seen from the earth often appears as only half a circle, like a bow whose string has slackened. To say that what is high is pressed down and what is low is raised up refers to the alternating movements of the sun and moon: the sun sets and the moon rises; the moon sets and the sun rises. As the sun and moon take turns, light comes into being. When the cold of winter passes, summer heat arrives; when the heat passes, winter cold returns. The alternation of cold and heat gives rise to the years.

“To reduce what is in excess is like harvesting in autumn and storing provisions in winter. To replenish what is insufficient is like the sprouting of all things in spring and their growth in summer. This is the principle by which the way of Heaven reduces what is in excess and replenishes what is insufficient: it diminishes what is abundant and increases what is scarce, giving fairly in accordance with the actual condition of things.

“The ways of the human world are different. The people are already in want, yet more is taken from them; those who have plenty are supplied with still more, as when those in high positions collect excessive taxes. This is reducing what is insufficient to serve what is in excess. It means weakening what is low and raising what is high, cutting from what is short to add to what is long. Given this, who can take from what is in excess to replenish what the world lacks? Only one who has attained the Dao can do this.

“Therefore, the sage acts through Wuwei (non-action), yet does not rely on himself; when his work is done, he does not claim its merit; he does not wish to display his virtue and good deeds, lest people in turn supply him with what he already has in excess.” Shao Yong’s view that Laozi understood the fundamental principles of the Yijing is no exaggeration.

De says: The Kan trigram symbolizes a bow and a wheel, while the Li trigram symbolizes weapons. Together, they suggest a bow and arrow. Li corresponds to the hour of Wu and represents the heart; Kan corresponds to the hour of Zi and represents the kidneys. This expresses the opposing relationship between Water and Fire. The Way of Heaven is like the principles described in the Yi. To understand the foundations of the Yi is perhaps enough.

De also says: The Kan trigram symbolizes a bow and a wheel, while the Li trigram symbolizes weapons. Together, they suggest a bow and arrow. Li corresponds to the hour of Wu and represents the heart; Kan corresponds to the hour of Zi and represents the kidneys, expressing the opposing relationship between Water and Fire. Is the Way of Heaven not like a drawn bow? After the hour of Zi, Yang energy begins to arise, and the lower part of the bow is raised. After the hour of Wu, Yin energy begins to arise, and the upper part of the bow is lowered. When heart Fire is excessive, the Water energy of the buttocks is used to calm it; this means reducing what is in excess. When kidney Water is deficient, heart Fire is calmed; this means replenishing what is lacking. Water and Fire regulate one another, just as the Way of Heaven reduces what is excessive and replenishes what is deficient.

People often act in the opposite way. When kidney Water is already deficient, they indulge in desire and exhaust their Jing and Qi, making what is deficient even less. When heart Fire is already excessive, they drink wine as though it were water, making what is abundant even more so. As Water and Fire clash, people harm what is deficient and nourish what is excessive. Who can reduce what is excessive to replenish what is deficient throughout the body? Only a person who has attained the Dao can do so.

Thus, the sage practices Wuwei (non-action) while accomplishing what needs to be done, yet does not rely on their own abilities. They take no credit, yet things are accomplished, and they do not claim the achievement as their own. They do not seek to display their wisdom and De, lest they cause the Great Dao to become unbalanced in its nourishing and regulating, bringing about the ills of excess or deficiency.

Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Soft and Weak in the World

Of all the soft and weak things in the world, none is softer or weaker than water. Yet nothing surpasses water in overcoming the hard and strong. Nothing can take its place. Thus the soft overcomes the hard, and the weak overcomes the strong. Everyone in the world knows this, yet few are able to put it into practice.

Therefore the sage says: One who can bear a country’s humiliation is fit to be its ruler; one who can bear a country’s calamities is fit to be the sovereign of all under Heaven. Straightforward words sound like their opposite.

The Dao Jing says: Nothing in the world is softer and weaker than water, yet nothing surpasses it in overcoming hard and strong things. Therefore, never underestimate water or treat it lightly. The weak can overcome the strong, and the soft can overcome the hard. Everyone in the world knows this principle, but few can put it into practice. Thus the sage says, “One who can bear the humiliation of the state may be called its ruler; one who can bear the disasters of the state may be called the sovereign of all under Heaven.” To bear humiliation and become a ruler, to bear disaster and become a sovereign—these words seem contrary to common sense.

The Dao Jing explains: Kan, one of the Eight Trigrams (Bagua), symbolizes water and represents the utmost softness; water’s movement as it rises and descends runs through Heaven and Earth. Kun, another of the Eight Trigrams, symbolizes earth and represents a lesser degree of softness; the land brings forth and nurtures the myriad things. The forms of the myriad things arise through Kun-Earth, while the rising and descending of their Qi depends on Kan-Water. Nothing nourishes and moistens the myriad things better than water, so nothing in the world is softer and weaker than it. Water and Qi flow back and forth, reaching everywhere and overcoming everything; nothing can surpass or resist them. Never treat water lightly. Water, oh water—nothing else can take its place. Everyone in the world understands that the weak can overcome the strong and the soft can overcome the hard, but few can put this into practice. Can water, then, be dismissed as insignificant? The circumstances and principles embodied by water are profound. Thus the sage says that one who can bear the humiliation of the state is its master, the master of the ancestral altars and the state; one who can bear the state’s disasters is the sovereign of all under Heaven. Water embodies the quality of softness and weakness. The weak overcoming the strong, the soft overcoming the hard, and bearing humiliation to become a ruler or disaster to become a sovereign—all these words seem to express principles contrary to what one might expect.

The De Jing explains: True Jing-Qi is supremely soft, and true Original Qi is supremely weak. They are concealed within Kan-Water. They have names but no concrete form, and they are the root that governs the human body. The weak overcoming the strong, the soft overcoming the hard, and bearing humiliation to become a ruler or disaster to become a sovereign—all these words seem to express principles contrary to what one might expect.

When Jing and Qi reach a state of utmost refinement, they become extremely gentle; when primordial Qi reaches a state of utmost refinement, it becomes extremely subtle. Kan Water—a Daoist term representing the Water of the kidneys—stores Jing and Qi. Jing and Qi have a name but no form; they are the foundation that sustains the whole body. Once Jing and Qi decline, even tendons and bones that seem hard and strong will soon turn to dust.

From this we can see that nothing under Heaven is more yielding than water, yet nothing is better than water at overcoming what is hard. Who would dare despise it and consider it lowly? Thus, nothing can take its place. The yielding overcomes the rigid, and gentleness overcomes strength. Everyone under Heaven knows this, yet no one can put it into practice. The principle embodied by water is truly profound.

Therefore, the sage says: one who can bear a country’s disgrace and grievances shows that the weak can overcome the strong; one who can overcome the strong can become the ruler of the state. One who can bear a country’s disasters shows that the yielding can overcome the rigid; one who can overcome the rigid can become the ruler of all under Heaven. These are all statements that express the opposite principle in affirmative terms.

Reconciling Deep-Rooted Enmity

When deep-rooted enmity is resolved, resentment is sure to remain afterward. How can this be called good? The sage therefore holds the left-hand tally—the counterfoil of a loan agreement—but does not use it to demand repayment from others. This shows that a person of De (Virtue/Power) oversees agreements, keeps faith, and does not make excessive demands; a person without De oversees levies and laws. The Way of Heaven shows no partiality, yet it always aids the good.

The scripture says that resolving deep-rooted enmity often leaves resentment behind. How can this be called good? Auspicious matters favor the left, and a tally is a record that replaced knotted cords. Thus the sage always keeps to an auspicious agreement and does not press others for payment. A person of De oversees agreements; a person without De oversees laws. Here, “che” refers to laws and ordinances. The Way of Heaven shows no partiality, yet it always aids the good.

The Dao says: One who is skilled at closing can keep a door from opening without using a bolt; one who is skilled at tying can make a knot impossible to undo without using a rope. If you wait until a great rift has formed before mending it, a crack will often remain. How can that be called reliable? If you wait until deep resentment has surfaced before trying to reconcile it, resentment will often remain. How can that be called a proper resolution?

So the sage holds the left half of a contract—the portion that served as proof—like one skilled at tying, who can make a knot impossible to undo without a rope. He does not show off to others or demand anything from them, like one skilled at closing, who can keep a door from opening without a bolt. Only a person of De (Virtue/Power) can hold the proof represented by the contract; a person without De can only cling to written laws. Thus, August Heaven favors no one, but assists those with De. The Dao of Heaven is likewise impartial and stays always with the good.

De says: Heaven cannot be opened. Only a person of De can hold the proof represented by the contract; a person without De can only cling to written laws. Thus, August Heaven favors no one, but assists those with De. The Dao of Heaven is likewise impartial and stays always with the good.

“De” says: When the Qi of Heaven and Earth mingle, sweet dew descends; when Yin and Yang are in harmony, wind and rain arrive in their proper seasons. This is the beginning of things turning from prosperity to decline, and from decline to prosperity.

When the three Yang lines rise from below, they form the Tai hexagram, symbolizing the harmonious union of Heaven and Earth. As soon as Heaven and Earth begin to unite, the third line meets the top line, and prosperity begins to wane. When the three Yin lines rise from below, they form the Pi hexagram, symbolizing the obstruction of Heaven and Earth. As soon as Heaven and Earth begin to be obstructed, the first line meets the fourth line, and decline begins to grow. Thus loss and gain, prosperity and decline, all begin here.

The union of Heaven and Earth nourishes the myriad things, and I, too, can bring them to fruition. Yet the myriad things under Heaven often resent Heaven and Earth for not arranging gain and loss on their behalf. Heaven and Earth are so vast, and the myriad things so small, yet they must all rely on the union of Yin and Yang to take shape. How much more so must this be true of human beings?

When the yang side initiates and the yin side responds, this is called a man and woman marrying and living together. When the yang side initiates and the yin side resists, this is called a husband and wife turning against one another. How much more so when deep resentment has taken root? Once deep resentment has formed, trying to reconcile and dispel it through peacemaking will inevitably leave some resentment behind. If resentment remains, how can this be called a proper resolution? Once deep resentment has surfaced, trying to treat it and dispel the anger will likewise inevitably leave some anger behind. If anger remains, how can this be said to have helped the other person?

Therefore, the sage always holds the “left-hand tally” (a contract divided into left and right halves, with the creditor holding the left half), overcoming hardness through softness. The sage does not make demands of others, and uses gentleness to overcome strength. Those with De are in charge of contracts and hold to the gentle side; those without De are in charge of collecting taxes and hold to the hard side. Thus, the Way of Heaven moves without ceasing and always takes the side of those who hold the left-hand tally. The Way of Heaven shows no favoritism, yet it constantly assists those who are virtuous.

Chapter 80: A Small State with Few People

Make the state small and its population sparse. Even if there are all kinds of tools, do not use them; let the people cherish life and avoid traveling far or moving away. Though there are boats and carts, give them no reason to ride in them; though there are armor and weapons, give them no reason to form ranks and fight. Let the people return to keeping records by tying knots in cords.

Let the people find their food delicious and their clothing comfortable, be content with their homes, and take pleasure in their local customs. Neighboring states can see one another, and the crowing of their roosters and barking of their dogs can be heard across the way; yet the people grow old and die without visiting one another.

The scripture says: Even if a state has a small territory and few people, let the people have their own leaders for groups of ten and a hundred. Treat people only as useful talents, and do not put them to work on state labor. Let the people value life and be reluctant to move far away. Though they have boats and carts, let there be no need to use them; though they have armor and weapons, let there be nowhere to deploy troops and fight. Let the people return to the ancient way of life, when they recorded things by tying knots, and find their food delicious, their clothes comfortable, their homes secure, and their customs enjoyable. Neighboring states can see one another, and the sounds of cocks crowing and dogs barking can be heard across the border. Yet the people grow old and die without knowing of any need to deal with one another. The original passage repeats the section about returning to knot-recording and finding one’s customs enjoyable.

The Daoist interpretation says: King Tang of Shang, with a territory extending seventy li in every direction, and King Wen of Zhou, with one extending a hundred li, ultimately won all under Heaven. These are examples of small states with few people. Let field boundaries be laid out properly and the allotments of the well-field system distributed evenly, so that every ordinary man and woman receives a hundred mu of farmland. Let the people have their own leaders for groups of ten and a hundred, so that they have no need to borrow land from one another. Then distribute the stipends of scholars of upper, middle, and lower rank fairly. Assign people only according to their abilities, without making them perform labor for the state. Thus the text says, “Treat people only as useful talents, but do not put them to work.” In this way, the people will cherish life and be reluctant to move far away.

Though they have boats and carts, there will be nowhere they need to go; though they have armor and weapons, there will be no one against whom they need to deploy troops and fight. Let the people return to the ancient way of life, when they recorded things by tying knots, and make their living by farming, hunting, and fishing. Let them find their food delicious; wear coarse cloth and straw sandals and find their clothes agreeable; live in caves or open country and feel secure in their homes; and, when full, pat their bellies, stamp the earth, and sing, finding their customs joyful. Neighboring states can see one another, and the sounds of cocks crowing and dogs barking carry across the land. Yet the people grow old and die without knowing of any need to deal with one another in public or private affairs.

The “De” chapter says: When the people are prosperous and content, this symbolizes the fullness of a person’s Jing and Qi and the strength of their vital energy. A small territory with few people symbolizes the decline of Jing and Qi and a lack of original Qi. Even when Jing and Qi have declined, there are ways to carry on through weakness and replenish what has grown old. Even at the age of one hundred and twenty, recovery may still be possible. Beyond that age, however, cultivating a return to the True becomes much more difficult. One can only rely on the Nine-Turn Eight-Jade Elixir, refined from the essences of the sun and moon, to rescue the body from old age and debility. How much more so, then, does the weakened state symbolized by “a small state with few people” call for care?

A person whose Jing and Qi have declined is like one who has completed the cycle of the sixty-four hexagrams. First, each of the five viscera and six bowels must be given its proper ruling force and the nourishment it needs. The Yellow Court Inner Scripture, which discusses the body’s organs and the cultivation of health, was written for this purpose. That is why it says to make them each tenfold and a hundredfold more abundant. Even if a furnace and cauldron are set up, they are only there to protect and nurture the ingredients. One must not rashly roast or refine someone whose vitality has already declined; hence, the equipment is ready, but left unused. To build a chamber for the Elixir and set the cauldron in place, one need only guard it continuously and gently, keeping it in a state that is barely perceptible. There must be no haste. This is like teaching the people to cherish life and not wander far from home.

Even if there are swift boats and racing carriages, no one rides in them. Even if there are sturdy armor and sharp weapons, there is nowhere to display them. The people return to the simplicity of the age when knots were tied to keep records. This is called being skilled at closing a door: no bolt is needed, yet it cannot be opened. It is being skilled at tying a knot: no rope is needed, yet it cannot be undone. Is this not a state of great stability and worth?

Thus, when all under Heaven is at peace, the people are like those of Fuxi’s age: they find their food delicious, their clothes beautiful, their homes comfortable, and their customs joyful. The twelve palaces within the body, corresponding to its organs, are in harmony with one another, and people no longer cling to distinctions between themselves and others. Neighboring states can be seen from one another, and the calls of their chickens and dogs can be heard, just as the inner and outer aspects of the twelve channels are coordinated. If this state can be attained, people will have no further dealings with the world of convention until they grow old and die. Is that not fitting as well?

Chapter 81: “True Words Are Not Beautiful”

Truthful words are often plain, while ornate words are not always trustworthy. Those who truly possess benevolence and De do not rely on argument to prove themselves; people who love to argue may lack benevolence and De. The truly wise do not boast of their wide knowledge, and those with extensive knowledge are not necessarily truly wise.

The sage’s mind is empty, still, and clear, storing up nothing. The more he uses his De to help others, the more he gains himself; the more he gives his De to others, the more fulfilled he becomes. The Dao of Heaven benefits all things without harming them. The sage acts in accord with Wuwei (non-action)—without forcing or imposing—and does not contend with others.

The Daode Jing says that words in accord with truth sound plain and unadorned. Those skilled in action do not try to win through argument, and those with genuine insight do not flaunt the breadth of their knowledge. The sage is empty, still, and clear: what is there for him to store up? He uses the Dao to help others and thereby becomes more fulfilled; he gives the Dao to others and thereby becomes more abundant. The Dao of Heaven benefits all things without harming them; the sage acts in accord with Wuwei and does not contend with others.

The Dao Jing says that when the Dao is put into words, it seems bland and without flavor. Only after the Great Dao declined did advocacy of benevolence and righteousness appear; once clever, calculating intelligence arose, hypocrisy appeared as well. Truthful words are not necessarily pleasing to hear: those who make promises too readily often find them hard to keep, and those who think matters too easy often encounter greater difficulties. Ornate words are not always trustworthy.

All things grow by relying on the Great Dao, yet the Dao does not refuse them. Once things are accomplished, it does not claim them as its own. This is how the good refrain from arguing and from drawing undue attention to themselves. The more harsh and intricate the laws and orders become, the more people’s lives are constrained. This shows that those who love to argue may lack benevolence and De. The truly wise do not say much; those who are always talking are not necessarily truly wise, nor are they necessarily broadly learned.

The Dao enacted by the sage has its root in Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate), the source from which all things transform and come into being. It is expressed as a single, empty, still, and clear Qi (vital energy)—the primordial Qi spoken of in Daoism—and thus contains everything and has no need to store anything up. He uses this Dao to help others and thereby becomes more abundant; he gives this Dao to others and thereby becomes more fulfilled. Thus the Dao of Heaven benefits all things without harming them, and nothing under Heaven can harm it. The sage follows Wuwei and does not contend, so nothing under Heaven can contend with him and prevail.

The De Jing also says that truthful words are not ornate; the Dao of Heaven benefits without harming, and nothing under Heaven can harm it; the sage’s Dao follows Wuwei and does not contend, and nothing under Heaven can contend with it.

Honest words are often plain. They speak of the great Dao, which follows nature and practices Wuwei (non-action). Ornate words are often untrustworthy and come close to minor, unorthodox techniques. Those who truly know how to follow the Dao do not enjoy arguing, for people of goodness speak little. Those who enjoy arguing are often not good, for the impatient speak much. The truly wise do not seek broad learning: grasping one fundamental principle is enough to understand all things. Those who appear learned may not truly understand; they may simply have knowledge of memorization and answering questions.

The way of the sage does not require a great accumulation of knowledge. The Dao gives rise to One, One gives rise to Two, Two gives rise to Three, and Three gives rise to the myriad things; this is enough. When the great Dao is used to benefit others, others become as oneself. When everyone is like oneself, one possesses the Dao all the more. When the great Dao is bestowed on others, they become as oneself. When everyone is like oneself, one’s own abundance grows. Thus the way of Heaven benefits all under Heaven through goodness and advantage without harming others; it is as though everyone were clothed in it. The way of the sage governs all under Heaven through Wuwei and does not contend with others; it is as though everyone were sheltered by it. When Dao and De (Virtue/Power) cover all under Heaven, their work is accomplished. The achievements of the way of Heaven and the way of the sage are complete.

End of Volume Four of Three Explanations of the True Classic of the Dao and Its Virtue.

The textual notes explain that note one suggests the word “yi” in the phrase “yi san” may have been intended as “yi,” meaning “to scatter”; note two says that the original text omitted the two words “qing di” (“underestimate the enemy”); note three suggests that “eastward conquest brings resentment in the west” may have originally read “eastward conquest brings resentment among the western peoples”; note four says that the second “wei” (“act as”) was omitted from “not daring to act as host, but acting as guest”; note five says that “therefore, one is never weary” was omitted from “only by not being weary is one therefore never weary”; note six suggests that “death” in “not attaining death, yet remaining strong” may have been intended as “life”; note seven suggests that “going forth but not entering” may have originally read “there is nowhere one goes that one does not enter”; note eight suggests that “value” in “not valued by others” may have been intended as “blame.” Some notes are repeated; the explanations above consolidate them by content.