《道德真经集注(宋太守张氏)》Vol. 1

Summary of the Preface

Tang Minghuang (that is, Tang Xuanzong Li Longji) says: The ancient sage Laozi (the Primordial Sage) wrote a book to elucidate the mysterious and wondrous principle, establishing the fundamental teaching of Daoism and enlightening later generations. Although the words he left behind still survive, the subtle meanings within them have often gone astray. Yan Zun (Shu Yan) merely summarized the main purport of the scripture, which is still insufficient; Heshang Gong (Hegong) annotated it chapter by chapter and sentence by sentence, but his work is often too brief. The other commentaries are even more feeble and not worth mentioning. If matters are left thus, I fear that the subtle purport of our Daoist tradition (Xuanyuan—that is, Laozi, honored as Emperor Xuanyuan) may be lost.

My own virtue is shallow, yet I am grateful to have inherited the blessings of former generations and I worry that the principle of Wuwei (non-action) may be lost. I therefore used my leisure to explore the mysterious principle and, according to my own understanding, wrote annotations. This is not intended to establish a school of my own, but only to supplement what my predecessors omitted. Now that the draft is about to be finalized, I seek the opinions of dukes and ministers, the hundred officials, the common people, and the adherents of Daoism and Buddhism (the two gates of Daoism and Buddhism): if anyone can enlighten me as Zixia (Bu Shang) enlightened Confucius, or criticize my errors as Zuo Qiuming (Zuo) did, I will surely accept it with an open mind and grant a generous reward.

As for those ministers who flatter and boast of sagely wisdom, I hope they will not do so. Even the petty skill of marketplace diviners who praise themselves is but a minor way. Since forthright speech is not taboo, all may speak directly; do not let later generations mock us and thereby add to the name of my lack of virtue.

Laozi’s original substance is spontaneously so; it existed before Taiwu (the most primordial, formless, and imageless realm of empty stillness), without any origin, passing through heaven and earth yet always immeasurable. He ends in the endless, is exhausted in the infinite, and reaches Wuji (the Limitless); hence the name “Wuji.” Together with the Great Dao (the Way, the fundamental principle governing the cosmos), he transforms and gives birth to the myriad things, establishes the foundation of heaven and earth, fills the ten directions with Yuanqi (primordial Qi, vital energy), and embraces the purest nature of Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue/Power)—vast and boundless, beyond all naming.

His radiance is brilliant and forms patterns; his achievements stand majestically visible; he is so profound as to be unfathomable and so solemn as to be the sovereign of the divine. The three luminaries—sun, moon, and stars—shine by his light; heaven and earth receive him and only then come into being; when Qian and Kun (Heaven and Earth) revolve, only then does he bring forth essence. His station is exalted, yet no one can command him; he is honored, yet holds no office; he shelters and supports all things, inexhaustibly. He instructs the many heavens of the eight directions, universally promotes the Great Dao, existed before heaven was opened and earth was laid, and afterward descended into the human world as state preceptor, without cease from generation to generation, though the world has no way to know it.

He brings forth the myriad things without claiming their achievement as his own; this is mysterious De. Therefore all the sages revere him together. The Dao is honored and De is prized; with no one commanding, they are always spontaneously so—perhaps this is true only of Laozi!

In the Zhou dynasty, he again took birth through the divine Mother Li and was cut from her left armpit to be born; at birth his hair and beard were already white, and so he was called “Laozi.” The title “Laozi” originates in the mysterious and wondrous; it existed before heaven and earth and has no period of aging, and so he is called Laozi. The world believes Laozi began in the Zhou dynasty, but in fact this title began countless kalpas ago, extremely remote and indistinct.

Later, when the age declined and the Great Dao was not practiced, he traveled west across the world. Yin Xi, the keeper of Hangu Pass, said, “The Great Dao is about to conceal itself, is it not? Please write a book for me.” Thereupon he composed the Daodejing in two parts, upper and lower, totaling five thousand words. These five thousand words proclaim the source of Dao and De: so great that nothing is not encompassed, so fine that nothing is not penetrated; they are the spontaneous scripture shared by heaven and humanity.

My former teacher said: If one studies with diligent effort, then the sound of recitation can join with Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate); chanting aloud from afar, the heavens rejoice. Joining hands with mystics of like mind and quietly contemplating in expectation of the true realm, one resonates and connects with the principles of all wonders. Looking inward at one’s form and shadow, Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) endure. When body and Dao and De are harmonized, the myriad spirits are awed and subdued, disasters are extinguished in the Nine Yin (the dark, hidden places), blessings spread through the ten directions, the state is peaceful, and families are harmonious. Who can know such effects?

The writing of Wuwei (non-action): even when insulted, it suffers no harm; even when embellished, it gains no glory; even when disturbed, it does not become turbid; even when clarified, it does not appear clear—it is spontaneously so from the outset. It appears in accord with the Great Dao and is transmitted without end; it is constant. Therefore it is said, “To know the constant is called clarity.” What need has the Great Dao to do anything? Its promotion lies with people. This text is venerable and wondrous—how could one fail to study it intensively? Here I have only roughly described one section; only those who possess the Dao will treasure it.

Heshang Gong (Master on the River) was a recluse whose surname and given name no one knows. During the reign of Emperor Xiaowen of Han (Emperor Wen, Liu Heng), he built a small thatched hut on the bank of the Yellow River and lived there, constantly reciting Laozi’s Daodejing. The emperor loved Laozi’s words and issued an edict requiring the feudal kings, dukes and ministers, provincial governors, officials of the two-thousand-bushel rank, and officials of all levels on duty at court to study and recite it.

Among the scriptural passages, there were several that everyone could not understand, and in all the realm there was not a single person who could explain them. Someone heard that a shilang (a close attendant of the emperor) had mentioned that Heshang Gong was reciting Laozi, so he sent an envoy with the questions to go ask him. Heshang Gong replied: “The Dao is honored and De is prized; one cannot ask about them from afar.” Emperor Wen therefore drove in person to visit him.

The emperor said: “Within all under Heaven, there is no place that is not the king’s land; along the shores of the four seas, there is no one who is not the king’s subject. Laozi says, ‘Within the realm there are four greats’—Dao, Heaven, Earth, and the King—and the king is one of them. Though you possess the Dao, you are still my subject, yet you refuse to bend and meet me. Why are you so haughty? I am able to make people rich and noble, and I am able to make people poor and lowly.”

Heshang Gong then clapped his hands and sat cross-legged, then rose bodily and slowly floated into the air like rising cloud vapor, more than a hundred zhang above the ground, and remained in the air for a long time. Then he looked down and answered Emperor Wen: “Above, I do not reach Heaven; in the middle, I do not involve the people of the world; below, I do not dwell on the earth. What ‘subject’ is there left? How could Your Majesty make me rich or noble, poor or lowly?”

Only then did Emperor Wen realize that he was a divine man. He got down from his carriage, bowed his head, and apologized: “My virtue is shallow, and I have inherited the foundation of the former kings; my ability is insufficient to bear this heavy responsibility, and I am deeply afraid. Although I attend to government affairs, in my heart I also reverence the Dao and De; but I am ignorant and benighted, and many principles I do not understand. I hope to receive the compassion of the Lord of the Dao and be given instruction, so that in the midst of darkness I may see the light of the sun.”

Heshang Gong then gave Emperor Wen a plain-text copy of the Laozi Daodejing with chapter-and-verse commentary, in two scrolls, and said: “Study this book carefully, and the doubts in your heart will naturally be resolved. Since I annotated this scripture, more than one thousand seven hundred years have passed, and in all that time I have transmitted it to only three people; even you are the fourth. Do not give it to those who are not fit for it.” Emperor Wen knelt and received the scripture. Before the words had died away, Heshang Gong was nowhere to be found.

Some hold that Emperor Wen of Han loved Laozi’s great Dao (the Way), but that people in the world find it difficult to fully comprehend its principles. Emperor Wen pondered it with concentrated mind, and his sincere heart resonated upward, reaching Taishang Daojun (the Supreme Lord of the Dao, one of the highest deities venerated in Daoism). Taishang Daojun then sent a divine man especially to descend and teach him; after finishing the teaching, he departed. Emperor Wen’s faith was not yet sufficiently pure, so the divine man displayed miraculous transformations, enabling Emperor Wen to grasp his meaning and perfect his true Dao. People of that time called this divine man “Heshang Gong” (the Master on the River).

Laozi, in the first year of Shanghuang, on the twelfth day of the first month, a Bingwu day, descended under the Tai Sui (a virtual star used by the ancients for year reckoning; here it refers to the Dingmao year) and became Keeper of the Archives for the Zhou dynasty. In the first year of Wuji, in the fifth month of the Guichou year, on a Renwu day, he left the Zhou court and went west through Hangu Pass. Yin Xi, the Pass Officer at Hangu Pass, whose karmic affinity from former lives accorded with the Dao, divined beforehand and saw purple clouds drifting westward. Knowing that a person who had attained the Dao was about to pass by, he fasted, bathed, burned incense, and devoutly awaited seeing the true body of the Dao. On the twenty-fifth day of the twelfth month that year, Laozi indeed passed through the pass. When Yin Xi saw Laozi, he paid his respects and called himself a disciple. Laozi said: “You should undertake this task: bring benefit to the world, forsake worldly vanity, and widely transmit the great Dao.”

On the twenty-eighth day, Laozi transmitted the Taishang Daode Jing (Supreme Scripture of the Dao and De [Virtue/Power]) to Yin Xi. The principles in the scripture penetrate the void and nonbeing; they are vast and all-encompassing, subtle and all-pervading; even a sage king cannot fully comprehend them.

In former times, Emperor Xiaowen of Han loved Laozi’s great Dao and sighed in a hall of purity, stillness, and Wuwei (non-action), remarking that neither ordinary people nor sages could fully unravel this profound mystery. Thereupon he pondered deeply and resonated afar, communicating above with Taishang Daojun, who sent a divine man down to transmit the subtle essentials to Emperor Wen. Heshang Gong then made a vow and transmitted them. Later people compared and collated the wording, because the versions copied and recopied by worldly Confucian scholars contained many errors; now it should be collated by reference to reliable texts so that the scripture accords with the mysterious principle.

The scripture jointly venerated by humans, gods, and immortals of the ten directions and all heavens, as well as by the ghosts and spirits of heaven and earth, should be uniform in wording, without the slightest discrepancy. I have already collated and finalized this scripture before the great kings of the gods and immortals of the various heavens, and transmitted it to celestial beings and humans. As for scholars and worthy Confucians, they should take the highest orthodox truth as their guiding purpose, promote the great Dao, and cultivate breadth of mind; how could they fail to study it deeply so as to obtain the sage’s original scripture! My reason for saying this is that I wish to rectify this mysterious Dao among heaven, earth, and humanity.

Collected Commentaries on the Authentic Scripture of the Dao and De (Daode Zhenjing Jizhu), by Prefect Zhang of the Song

What has been said today is already clear and thorough. Those who study the cultivation of immortality, if they wish to promote the great Dao and broaden their minds, how could they fail to deeply study the original scriptures of the sages? The reason I say this is that I wish to illuminate the mysterious principle among heaven, earth, and humanity. What has been said today is already clear and thorough; those who study the cultivation of immortality will surely be able to propagate that profound teaching.

The Daoist Zheng Siyuan—an Eastern Jin Daoist, father-in-law of Ge Hong and disciple of Ge Xuan—said: My teacher, the Immortal Lord Ge (Ge Xuan, an important figure in the Lingbao school of Daoism), received the upper and lower fascicles of the Daodejing transmitted by Taiji Zhenren (the Perfected of the Supreme Ultimate) Xu Laile. In the past, the Immortal Lord cherished this book as if seeing the Perfected One face to face. He instructed us in an oral formula, saying: “This scripture is the fundamental source of the Dao.” Those who recite and realize it repeatedly tens of thousands of times and who annotate its mysterious principle with a tranquil mind will all certainly ascend to immortality. In particular, one should revere this book and worship it day and night; the vows and thoughts at the time of worship should all be carried out according to the norms of the Lingbao method. Noble persons who study the cultivation of immortality ought to promote this scripture. The Immortal Lord often transmitted these words secretly; unless someone could respond to the immortal Dao and was in harmony in virtue, he did not transmit them lightly.

Composed by Wang Yu

In former times, Laozi responded to the transformations of the Dao and its arts, and so he wrote a book of five thousand words in order to elucidate the principle of ceaseless generation. But later scholars were obscured by the leftover dregs of former generations and disturbed by the various heterodox doctrines of the hundred schools. Their wisdom was insufficient to distinguish the true from the false, and so some compared the sages’ classics with the doctrines of Yang Zhu and Mo Di. Although some read them, they could not deeply grasp their meaning. They then used abstruse language to cater to the world, and so moved even farther from the principle. Among the commentaries circulating today are those of Wang Bi and Zhang Shuo; textual errors are numerous, and each has its gains and losses, with more than one place harmful to understanding the scripture’s meaning. Now I have compared and collated the various editions, striving to determine the most appropriate text, and I explain sentence by sentence what I have understood. The words of the sages are inherently difficult to exhaust completely, and my insight falls short; my wording, too, often fails to convey the meaning. If readers can use their minds to seek the author’s intent, then they will grasp most of what I intend to expound. This book was completed on the twelfth day of the seventh month in the third year of Xining (1070 CE).

I once privately remarked: Although the sages are many, the great Dao they awakened to is one and the same.

I once remarked in private: Although the sages are many, the Dao they follow is one and the same. Their births differ in earlier and later ages, separated across the cosmos, yet they belong to the same era; their dwelling places are far apart, as though separated by heaven and earth, yet they are in the same Dao. Therefore their words connect with one another, like head joined to tail. Whatever departs from this Dao is heterodox teaching.

Yet those who are one in the Dao need not use the same words, and those whose words are the same need not have realized the same Dao. Confucians in the world see only their words, and so take sameness of words as correctness; not understanding the principle within, they take sameness in the Dao with difference in words as error. The Yijing says, “One Yin and one Yang—this is called the Dao” (the mutual transformation of Yin-Yang is the Dao). Laozi says, “Having obtained the mother, one knows the child” (having grasped the root, one can know the myriad things derived from it). If one truly understands this, one can investigate the distinctions among the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), observe the changes of the four seasons (spring, summer, autumn, winter), examine the forms and dispositions of the myriad things, and thereby verify the principles of all things. In this way, even if the sages did not speak, I could still know their Dao.

Thus the Dao is like the order of a year, and the sages are like the seasons within it. From Yao and Shun to Confucius, ritual institutions were made bright and musical education flourished; they were lodged in the forms of vessels, names and roles, laws and measures, and numerical patterns, while the operation of spirit was clearly manifested in the various institutions and creations. By this they established high and low, distinguished the worthy from the unworthy, and governed the world; their affairs were fully provided and their people numerous—one may call it an age of utmost flourishing. In the four seasons this corresponds to summer, as summer turns into autumn. Autumn gathers the flourishing plants and trees and brings them back to a single place; it strips away the blossoms and causes them to form fruit. It takes distinguishing the myriad things as its merit and returning to original nature as its constant norm; its aspirations are tranquil and its actions simple. Is autumn for the sake of returning to summer? It is probably by this that the year is completed and the myriad things are enabled to grow.

By this season, more than half of the plants, trees, and animals have died. Is this the ultimate limit of the Heavenly Mandate—something truly beyond the reach of petty wisdom? Autumn is not the end of the year; there are further transformations beyond it. Therefore the changes of the four seasons correspond in human beings to youth, maturity, old age, and death. The ancient transmitted writings say, “To follow it all one’s life without knowing that it is the Dao”—this is probably speaking of such a situation.

Alas! If one studies the Dao but does not consider death, what meaning does studying the Dao have? The Analects says, “If one hears the Dao in the morning, one may die in the evening.” What is valued in the so-called Dao is that it enables people to understand life and death. If one truly understands the reality of the Dao and De and draws near to their destination, then the principles of life and death are fully penetrated; that is why I have exhausted my mind and strength in this.

Preface

The author of the Collected Commentaries on the True Scripture of the Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue/Power) says: Confucius remarked, “If one hears the Dao in the morning, one may die content in the evening” (from the Analects, “Li Ren”). What is called the Dao is valued because it can bring people peace in life and death. If one truly understands the real meaning of Dao and De and draws near the root to which it returns, then all doubts concerning life and death can be dissolved. Therefore the author has devoted himself wholeheartedly to annotating this book.

Volume One

The commentators named at the beginning of the volume are Tang Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Li Longji), Heshang Gong, Wang Bi (the famous Three Kingdoms Wei scholar who annotated the Laozi), and Wang Pang (a Northern Song scholar; the original text writes “Wang Yu”).

Dao Jing

The Dao De Jing is divided into upper and lower sections; the upper section is called the Dao Jing (Scripture of the Dao), and the lower section the De Jing (Scripture of De).

Xiu’s commentary: “The Dao is that by which the myriad things proceed . . .”

The Dao is the root by which the myriad things operate. In terms of substance, it is the fundamental reality; in terms of function, it is activity. It is nameless and boundless, present everywhere. Thus even the words of the sages often touch only one facet of the Dao. Although it is only one facet, it differs from the Hundred Schools of the various philosophers in that it does not deviate from the nature of things and accords with what is timely.

Chapter One: “The Dao That Can Be Spoken”

“The Dao that can be spoken is not the constant Dao.”

Heshang Gong’s commentary on “the Dao that can be spoken” refers to the Dao of government and moral instruction, of governing the state and transforming the people. His commentary on “not the constant Dao” means that it is not the constant Dao of natural long life. The constant Dao nourishes the spirit through wuwei (non-action), settles the people by not interfering in affairs, withdraws its radiance and conceals its sharpness, and cannot be described in words.

Xiu’s commentary: The Dao that can be spoken must be put into practice according to the times. The times change without cease, and the Dao must change accordingly. The operations of creation are subtle and never pause; what was once considered correct is now no longer so. Those of shallow understanding pluck the superficial essence and take it as the root of the Dao; they take some fixed trace as the dwelling place of the sage. Laozi was precisely about to remove these abuses, and so he revealed the ultimate principle, placing this idea at the beginning of the text. Once this is understood, the words spoken here are also not constant.

“The name that can be named is not the constant name.”

Heshang Gong’s commentary on “the name that can be named” refers to titles of wealth, honor, and reputation that elevate one above the world. The truly constant “name” is not such rank and title.

I. On “Dao” (the Way) and “Name”

Commentary by Tang Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Li Longji): The so-called “Dao” is the subtle operation issuing from the utmost point of emptiness and quiescence; “name” is the basis by which things can be designated. The operation of Dao can be applied to the myriad things, and therefore it is said to be “can be Daoed.” Names are produced by operation, and therefore it is said to be “can be named.” The application of Dao has no fixed direction, so it cannot be confined to any one Dao; the forms of the myriad things differ, and their names differ accordingly, so it cannot be confined to any one name. Thus one is forced to give it the name “Dao,” though Dao is originally nameless.

Commentary by Heshang Gong (Master by the River): This does not mean a name that originally exists eternally. The constant name should be like an infant who has not yet begun to babble, like a young child who cannot yet distinguish things, like a bright pearl hidden in an oyster shell or fine jade buried among stones: though inwardly bright, outwardly it appears dull and uncouth.

Commentary by Wang Bi: The Dao that can be spoken and the name that can be named refer only to concrete things and shapes; they are not its constant state. That it cannot be spoken and cannot be named is its original condition.

Commentary by Yu: Names arise from entities, and entities have form and number. Once bodily form is complete, decay follows; how can it remain eternally unchanging? Only realizing this “non-constancy” is true constancy.

II. “The Nameless is the Beginning of Heaven and Earth”

Commentary by Heshang Gong: “The nameless” refers to Dao. Dao has no form, so it cannot be named. “Beginning” is the root of Dao. Dao breathes in and out primordial Qi, dispenses transformation and nurture, and emerges from emptiness and nonbeing, becoming the source and beginning of Heaven and Earth.

III. “The Named is the Mother of the Myriad Things”

Commentary by Tang Minghuang: The nameless is the subtle root. This root manifests as Qi (vital energy) and begins to cause Heaven and Earth to sprout; Heaven and Earth begin from this, and so it is called “nameless.” The named is the application of Dao; once there is a name, the myriad things are born from it, and so it is “the mother of the myriad things.”

First paragraph (explaining “nameless” and “named”)

Tang Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Li Longji) says: “Nameless” refers to the “mysterious root,” the wondrous and unfathomable substance. The mysterious root manifests as original Qi and first creates heaven and earth; heaven and earth begin from this, and so it is called “nameless.” “Named” is the manifestation of the mysterious root’s function. Once its function is complete, it nourishes the myriad things; the myriad things receive nourishment, and so it is called “named.”

Heshang Gong (the Daoist scholar who annotated the Laozi, referred to here as “He”) says: “Named” refers to heaven and earth. Heaven and earth have form and orientation; yin and yang have softness and hardness—this is what makes heaven and earth “named.” “The mother of the myriad things” means that heaven and earth contain the Qi of yin and yang, give birth to the myriad things, cause them to grow and reach maturity, just as a mother nurtures her children.

Wang Bi (a Wei-Jin Xuanxue scholar, referred to here as “Bi”) says: All that is “being” arises from “nonbeing.” Therefore, when the myriad things have not yet taken form and are nameless, it is the beginning of the myriad things; once there are names and forms, heaven and earth then grow, nurture, transform, complete, and nourish the myriad things, and so it is called the mother of the myriad things. This means that the Dao, in its formless and nameless state, begins and completes the myriad things. It begins and completes the myriad things, yet does not know why it is so; therefore it is said to be “mysterious and again mysterious,” profound to the utmost.

Yu (the commentator) says: The Dao receives its mandate from “nonbeing” and takes form within “being”; therefore heaven and earth are the beginning of the myriad things and the mother of the myriad things. The Yijing says, “There are heaven and earth; only then are there the myriad things,” which follows the same order. The work of heaven and earth in covering and supporting is the beginning of living things; therefore heaven and earth are mentioned first. The myriad things and heaven and earth originally have no priority or posteriority; traced to the ultimate, “being” and “nonbeing” are one and the same body. The so-called “beginning” and “mother” are merely provisional words, like forgetting the fish-trap once the fish is caught. Moreover, although heaven and earth are great, they too receive their mandate and take form, and do not leave the realm of “being” and “nonbeing.” Yet Laozi here speaks separately of “the mother of the myriad things”; thus Laozi’s words perhaps simply exhaust their nature.

Second paragraph (explaining “constantly without desire, thereby observing its mystery”)

Heshang Gong says: “Miao” means “yao,” the essential point. If a person can constantly be without desire, he can observe the essential point of the Dao. This essential point is “the One.”

Wang Bi says: “Miao” is the utmost degree of subtlety. The myriad things begin from the subtle and then take form; they begin from nonbeing and then come to be. Therefore one must constantly be without desire and make the bosom empty; only then can one observe the mystery at the beginning of the myriad things.

Third paragraph (explaining “constantly with desire, thereby observing its boundary”)

Tang Minghuang says: People are born quiet; the nature endowed by Heaven is originally without desire. Only by emptying the bosom can one observe the mystery at the beginning of the myriad things.

Scriptural passage: “Constantly having desire, thereby observe its jiao”: One who constantly harbors desire can thereby see the boundaries and destination of things.

Commentary by Emperor Ming of Tang (Xuanzong): Human beings are originally pure and still by birth; this is the nature endowed by Heaven. When they encounter external things and the mind is stirred, this is desire arising within their nature. If one can constantly preserve purity and stillness, let go of mental activity, dissolve disturbances of the spirit, and reflect inwardly upon one’s true nature, one can see the “wondrous root” (the wondrous source of the Dao). If one cannot rectify one’s nature, and instead the emotions follow desires and move, so that nature is dragged along by desire and loses the source of the Dao, then even if one wishes to see the wondrous root, what one sees is only the “margins and ends” (the boundaries and extremities of things).

Commentary by Heshang Gong: “Jiao” means “return,” that is, destination. A person who constantly harbors desire can see the destination toward which the worldly turn.

Commentary by Wang Bi: “Jiao” means final return or conclusion. Whenever being has usefulness, it must rely on non-being as its function. The root of desire must return to the Dao before it can be completed. Therefore the person who “constantly has desire” can see the final destination of things.

Commentary by Wang Pang: The Zhouyi speaks of yin-yang, the Laozi speaks of being and non-being, and even the Buddhists speak of form and emptiness; the principle is actually one, only the formulations differ in order and level. When people of the world discuss “non-being,” if they abandon “being” to seek “non-being,” then outside being there is yet another being—how can this be called non-being? Therefore, within being there is in fact never true being; this is true non-being. The substance of being and non-being is always one and coexistent. Observed from the side of being, one can see only margins and ends; to observe its miao (wonder), one should know that it is originally non-being. Yet the “non-being” of “original non-being” is not opposed to being. That the text says both “constant non-being” and “constant being” is to show that being and non-being cannot substitute for one another: non-being is precisely true being, and being is precisely real non-being. When jiao is mentioned, one knows that miao is profound; when miao is mentioned, one knows that jiao is coarse. This is to use the contrast between the two to explain the body of the Dao.

Scriptural passage: “These two emerge together but have different names.”

Commentary by Emperor Ming of Tang: The “having desire” and “desirelessness” mentioned above both originate in the Dao; therefore it says “emerge together.” Once the mind is stirred and issues into application, and names are established according to that application, the names then differ.

Commentary by Heshang Gong: “These two” refers to having desire and desirelessness. “Emerge together” means they arise together from the human mind; “different names” means the names by which they are called are not the same. The desireless he calls “enduring existence”; the desiring he calls “loss of the self.”

Scriptural passage: “Together they are called xuan.”: The two come from the same source and may be called “xuan,” that is, dark, profound, remote, and difficult to describe.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang comments: From the standpoint of tangible differences, things each have different names; but tracing them back to their root, they all emerge from one source, and this is called “Xuan.” “Xuan” means profound and subtle. Heshang Gong (a Daoist commentator traditionally attributed to the Han dynasty) says: “Xuan” is Heaven. People with desires and people without desires alike receive the Qi (vital energy) of Heaven and Earth and are born. Wang Pang (a Northern Song scholar and son of Wang Anshi) says: Being and non-being are fundamentally one body, and originally there were not two names. Those who study the Dao (the Way), viewing things from a shallow level, feel that being is not as good as non-being; once they attain the Dao, both are ultimate truth, and originally there is no distinction between the two.

“Xuan again Xuan”: Heshang Gong explains that within Heaven there is still Heaven, meaning that the way of Heaven is layered and profound. The Qi that people receive differs in thickness: those who receive the balanced, harmonious, and moistening Qi give rise to worthies and sages; those who receive the disordered and turbid sink into greed, desire, and licentious indulgence.

“The gate of all wonders” means the portal through which all mysteries come into being and pass in and out.

Emperor Ming of Tang (Tang Xuanzong, Li Longji) says: If no thoughts or deliberations arise in the mind, one unites with the mysterious and wondrous Dao. But he still worried that people would cling to the name-form of “Xuan” and remain stuck in it, unable to reach the state in which even “Xuan” is forgotten. Therefore he further used “Xuan again and yet more Xuan” to dispel attachment to “Xuan,” showing that one must realize desirelessness within desirelessness. If one can do this, all the disturbances of the myriad transformations are dissolved and become thoroughly clear; hence “the gate of all wonders.”

Heshang Gong says: To know the constant principles of the Dao of Heaven, to understand the nature endowed in humans, and to know that Qi endowments differ in thickness and thinness; to remove emotions and desires and maintain centrality and harmony—this is the gate for grasping the essentials of the great Dao.

Wang Bi (a Three Kingdoms Wei metaphysician) says: “The two” refers to “beginning” and “mother.” “Emerge” means that the two emerge together from “Xuan.” “Different names” is because their functions are different: at the outset it is called “beginning”; at completion it is called “mother.” “Xuan” means dark and obscure, silent and without being. The source from which “beginning” and “mother” arise cannot be designated by name, so it says they “cannot be called the same.” Forcing a name for it, one calls it “Xuan,” taking it for its indescribability. If one limits it to a particular “Xuan,” it is far from the original meaning; hence “Xuan again and yet more Xuan.” All wonders emerge from this gate, hence “the gate of all wonders.”

The commentator Xiao says: Dao has two aspects. From the visible level, Yang is honored and Yin is lowly; from the formless level, Yin comes first and Yang follows. Therefore the ultimate subtlety of Dao is called “Miao” and also called “Xuan.” “Miao” refers to its De (Virtue/Power); “Xuan” borrows the color of deep black as an analogy. To speak of “color” is already quite refined, yet there remains something that color cannot reach; hence “again Xuan.” All things have their subtle wonders, and all issue from this; hence “the gate of all wonders.”

Chapter Two: When All Under Heaven Know the Beautiful as Beautiful

“When all under Heaven know the beautiful as beautiful”: Heshang Gong says that to boast of one’s own beauty is to display and make it conspicuous.

“Then ugliness is already there”: continuing the preceding text, this means that people under Heaven thereby all know that ugliness exists.

“Heshang Gong says: ‘There is coarse jade’”: Heshang Gong uses unpolished coarse jade as a comparison, metaphorically pointing to the original truth of uncorrupted simplicity.

Everyone knows what beauty is and what goodness is, but this very knowing gives rise to what is not good. Heshang Gong (traditionally a Western Han recluse who annotated the Laozi) says this is because people value fame and merit.

Tang Xuanzong (Minghuang) says that what is called “beautiful and good” arises from the mind of desire. Whatever the heart wants, even if it is ugly, will be taken as beautiful and good. Thus people all take what they consider beautiful as beauty and what they consider good as goodness. Beauty and goodness originally have no fixed standard; they are merely deluded feelings. People cling to being and non-being, distinguish difficult from easy, the wondrous from the foul, and therefore contend with one another. The great sage clearly sees this and deeply knows its delusiveness, and so he speaks of “the ugly.” Heshang Gong also says this is the root of people’s contention.

Wang Pang (son of Wang Anshi of the Northern Song, who also annotated the Laozi) says: The Dao (the Way) is originally without form or image, but the myriad things, because of deluded feelings, make distinctions among themselves and thus sink into the flow of change and transformation, unable to extricate themselves. They sink and cannot escape not because they are weary of it, but because they cling to the beautiful and good and therefore loathe what is not good. Thus the ugly and the not-good are followers of the beautiful and the good. At the very time of beauty and goodness, the ugly and the not-good are already contained therein. Only when the follower appears does one awaken, but by then it is already too late. Nevertheless, the beautiful and good spoken of by the perfected person have never departed from the ugly and the not-good; nor have the ugly and the not-good ever departed from the beautiful and good. The foolish people of the world cannot grasp this, and so the beauty and goodness they speak of are constantly set in opposition to the ugly and the not-good.

Laozi says: Therefore being and non-being generate each other, difficult and easy complete each other, long and short reveal each other, high and low incline toward each other, sound and voice harmonize with each other, and front and back follow each other.

Heshang Gong explains: On seeing “being,” one then perceives “non-being”; on seeing “difficult,” one then perceives “easy”; on seeing “short,” one then perceives “long”; on seeing “high,” one then perceives “low.” When something is sung above, below there is certain to be a harmonious response.

Thus the sage handles affairs by according with the natural order and not acting with reckless contrivance; in carrying out teaching and transformation, he leads by example and does not rely on words and verbal instruction.

Heshang Gong holds that this is governing by means of the Dao. Wang Bi holds that the ten thousand things are already complete in their natural state; if people further add human intervention, they instead ruin them.

(The original text “xing bu yi huang zhi jiao” should read “xing bu yan zhi jiao,” “practice the teaching without words”; it comes from Chapter 2 of the Daodejing, and the interpretation here is based on that reading.)

Commentary One: Wuwei (Non-Action) and Not Speaking

“The affair of Wuwei (non-action)” refers to affairs without deliberate fabrication; hence it is said to be “without affairs.” Here the term “affairs” is borrowed to explain it, and so the text says “dwells” (chu: to abide in its place and engage in it). “The teaching without words” refers to the teaching that forgets words. Here the term “teaching” is borrowed to explain it, and so the text says “practices” (xing: to carry out).

Commentary Two: The Explanations of Heshang Gong and Wang Pang

Heshang Gong (the famous Eastern Han commentator on the Laozi) says: The sage leads the people by making himself an example.

Wang Pang (son of Wang Anshi of the Northern Song, who also commented on the Laozi) says: The sage has no private mind and takes the mind of the people as his mind. He handles affairs, yet never enters the path of deliberate action; he carries out teaching, yet never issues any intention to speak. Thus affairs are ordered through this and teaching is carried out through this, while the sage himself remains inwardly still, unentangled by words and actions, and the people of the world thereby return to their original nature and recover their simplicity. Precisely because he has no entanglement, even though he lodges his person amid Yin-Yang, creation cannot manipulate the various relative circumstances he encounters.

Commentary Three: “The Myriad Things Arise and He Does Not Decline”

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (that is, “Minghuang”) says: He lets the myriad things each obtain their movement and growth, without their thanking the sage.

Xiu (one of the commentators, whose life details are unknown) says: When the myriad things grow together, the sage enables each thing to fulfill its nature and does not reject any. This is because the sage’s mind is empty and clear, without acceptance or rejection. If the mind harbored thoughts of acceptance and rejection, then the myriad things’ various states of beauty and ugliness would multiply—how could the sage not reject them?

Commentary Four: “It Gives Birth but Does Not Possess,” “It Acts but Does Not Rely,” “It Achieves Merit but Does Not Dwell”

Heshang Gong says: Primordial Qi gives birth to and nourishes the myriad things, yet does not claim them as its own. What the Dao (the Way) does is also not done in expectation of repayment.

Wang Bi (a famous commentator of the Three Kingdoms period) says: Wisdom is originally complete in itself; to deliberately make an effort to do something is artificiality.

Emperor Xuanzong says: He lets the myriad things each fulfill their growth and does not regard merit as something he relies upon.

This commentary centers on the Laozi line “It is precisely because he does not dwell in it that he does not lose it.” It means that when one accomplishes merit but does not claim it as one’s own, that merit can instead be preserved for a long time.

Tang Minghuang (that is, Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Li Longji, whose Imperial Commentary on the Daodejing is the commentary used here) says: Let the ten thousand things each follow their own growth, do not treat them as one’s own possessions, and let each attain its own place, without relying on them or taking credit for oneself; thus the merit of great peace is accomplished. Even so, one should still be cautious day by day and not dare to rest content with the status quo. Heshang Gong (the Laozi commentator traditionally dated to the Han dynasty) says: When merit is accomplished and affairs are settled, withdraw and do not occupy the position. Wang Bi (a Wei-dynasty metaphysician of the Three Kingdoms period) says: Follow the nature of the ten thousand things and let them become naturally clear; merit is completed by the things themselves, and therefore one does not dwell in merit. The commentator Li Xiu says: Once one possesses something, one will cling to it; clinging to it, one will be shifted away and lose it.

“It is precisely because he does not dwell in it”: Heshang Gong explains this as: precisely because merit is accomplished, he does not occupy its position.

“Therefore he does not lose it”: Tang Minghuang says: precisely because he does not dare rest content with the status quo but constantly cultivates his De (Virtue/Power), he can forget the merit while the merit endures; therefore by not dwelling in merit, he does not lose it. Heshang Gong says: Blessing and De constantly abide and do not leave one’s person. The wording of the preceding six lines varies in height and length, like opening up a source; below it countless tributaries will arise, and all these variations readily give rise to turmoil. Wang Bi says: If merit is attributed to oneself, the achievement cannot last long.

Wang Pang of the Song dynasty (son of Wang Anshi) says: Among things that have form and name, once they have descended into existence, none do not undergo alternation and decline; only Dao (the Way) is without form, and the ten thousand things cannot change it. The sage embodies Dao, and therefore fills heaven and earth without any outside, yet never clings to particular things; he responds to the myriad changes without private intentions. In this way, he does not take something that happens by chance as his own merit and stubbornly possess it. To be able to transcend the entanglements of relative circumstances, cut off the distinctions between beauty and ugliness, and transcend life and death—this is the constant abiding dharma. With such an attitude in dealing with the world, even if merit and fame are high, where would there be the burden of being filled up by them?

“Not Exalting the Worthy, Chapter Three” is the chapter title for chapter three of the Laozi; the main text contains only the three words “not exalting the worthy.” Here one can only offer a brief understanding based on the existing text: Heshang Gong says that “worthy” here refers to the reputation for worthiness esteemed by the world, that is, being eloquent and skilled in speech, particular about rhetoric, departing from the great Dao and practicing expediency, abandoning simplicity and pursuing adornment. The main point of the whole chapter is not to exalt such empty reputation, so that the people do not contend.

This chapter is Chapter 3 of the Daodejing. The first part cites Heshang Gong’s commentary to explain “not exalting the worthy”: here “worthy” refers to the kind of ability admired by the world, namely people who are eloquent and skilled in rhetoric, who depart from the Dao (the Way) and pursue expediency, and who abandon simplicity and value ornamentation. “Not exalting” means not valuing them with ranks and salaries, and not honoring them with official positions.

The scriptural passage “cause the people not to contend” is explained by Tang Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong Li Longji, who wrote a commentary on the Daodejing): when worthiness is exalted, external standards and traces are left behind; people chase after these traces, and contention arises accordingly. If the worthy and the unworthy each keep to their proper station, the common people will not contend with one another. Heshang Gong further says that this means not contending for merit and fame, but returning to naturalness. The commentator “Xiu,” however, holds that once the outstanding reputation of the worthy is honored, the common people will boast and envy external things, and this is precisely the starting point of contention.

“Not valuing rare goods”: Heshang Gong comments that the ruler does not wear treasures, but discards gold in the mountains and casts pearls and jade into the deep abyss.

“Cause the people not to steal”: Tang Minghuang comments that so-called “rare goods” are things beyond the proper bounds of human nature. To pursue what cannot be obtained is to be unsettled in one’s proper lot and to vainly seek things that are originally not one’s own. Once one has already lost one’s original nature, how is this different from theft? If the myriad things can each follow their own nature and each matter can match its proper capacity, then rare goods will not be valued, and people will not steal because they covet things outside their own nature and life. Heshang Gong comments that when those above teach purity and tranquility, those below will not encroach upon others. The commentator “Xiu” says that only when the common people have sufficient food and clothing can their nature be stable; if they vainly value rare goods, their desires will have no limit, leading even to theft. At the beginning of life there were originally no distinctions; distinctions arose later from false discrimination. Therefore this chapter aims at “equalizing things” so that the common people may recover their original nature.

“Not seeing what is desirable”: Heshang Gong comments: banish the licentious music of Zheng and keep away from wicked and flattering petty men.

“Cause the mind not to be disordered”: if people are not allowed to see things that arouse greed, the human mind will not be disturbed.

Not Exalting the Worthy and Not Valuing Goods

Tang Xuanzong says: Not promoting the path of a worthy reputation and not pursuing rare treasures means that one does not see things that arouse desire, and the mind is not confused. Heshang Gong says: This refers to not giving rise to evil thoughts and not arousing greedy desires. Wang Bi says: “Xian” means having ability; “shang” means a reputation that is praised; “gui” means a title that is honored. Simply let those capable of the task hold office—why exalt them? Use things only according to actual need—why prize them? If one recommends worthy men and makes their reputations known, causing their honor to exceed their ability, those below will rush about contending and vie with one another in talent. When precious goods exceed actual use, people contend to obtain them; some bore through walls and break into boxes, and some even lose their lives for them. Therefore, when reputations are not displayed, people will not contend, and their minds will not be disordered.

The commentator Xiu says: Deluded people falsely perceive desirable things, and their minds thereby become decayed and scattered. Only the sage understands that the myriad things are fundamentally unreal, and therefore regards them all equally, with no mind of taking or rejecting. If one can be like this, the mind is calm and stable, and external things cannot disturb it; thus one can achieve not exalting the worthy and not valuing goods.

The Sage’s Governance

Heshang Gong says: This says that the principles by which the sage governs the state and cultivates the self are the same.

Emptying Their Minds

Tang Xuanzong says: When the mind is not disturbed by desirable things, it is empty and still. Heshang Gong says: One must remove habitual desires and dissolve confusion and troubles. Xiu says: When the mind is empty, one no longer discriminates and chooses; this is precisely the meaning of “not exalting the worthy.”

Filling Their Bellies

Tang Xuanzong says: When Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue/Power) are inwardly replete, there is no longer self-importance or seeking; it is like stopping when one is full, no longer giving rise to a mind of demand. Heshang Gong says: This means embracing the great Dao and maintaining the five spirits within the body. Wang Bi says: When the mind is full of cunning and the belly is full of food and drink, both are forms of attachment. Therefore the mind should be empty, so that cleverness is not displayed outwardly; the belly should be full, so that one does not chase after external things. Xiu says: When the belly is full, one no longer greedily seeks; this clarifies the meaning of “not valuing goods.”

Weakening Their Resolve

Soften the mind and will, so that one does not assert strength or strive to outdo others.

When the mind is empty, the will is soft: when the inner mind is empty, clear, and quietly vacant, the will becomes gentle and non-contentious. Heshang Gong (the famous Han dynasty commentator on the Laozi) says that those who understand suppleness, compliance, and humility do not covet power and position. Xiu says that people with strong will and spirit readily boast and strive to win, while those with soft and weak will do not seek outwardly. This too reiterates the principle of not exalting worthies.

Strengthen their bones: when the belly is full, the bones become strong. Heshang Gong says that cherishing Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) and reducing depletion fills the marrow and makes the bones solid. Wang Bi (a Wei-Jin metaphysician and important commentator on the Laozi) says that bones are in themselves ignorant things; if one uses them to encroach upon external things, the mind will generate complications and become disturbed. Wang Pang (a Northern Song scholar) says that only when the bones are strong can one stand independently, and if one can stand independently, external things cannot make one change. This too reiterates the principle of not valuing rare goods.

Always cause the people to be without knowledge and without desire: always make the people free of the scheming that strives to be strong and win, and free of the desires that seek and acquire. Heshang Gong says to return to plainness and guard simplicity and sincerity. Wang Bi says to guard one's true nature. Pang says that when cleverness arises, one falsely generates distinctions; when greed arises, one seeks outwardly. Only after these two are removed can one's nature and disposition be settled. By naturally not exalting worthies and thereby transforming the people, one can bring them to “without knowledge”; by naturally not valuing goods and thereby transforming the people, one can bring them to “without desire.”

Cause those who are clever not to dare act: make those who possess cleverness not dare to act recklessly. Tang Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong, Li Longji) comments that one should use the Dao of purity and quietude to educate the people, causing all to be without knowledge-views and greed; if some still retain cleverness, make them not dare to act recklessly. Heshang Gong says to think deeply and far, and not speak lightly. Wang Bi says that “know” here refers to the mind of deliberate contrivance. Wang Pang says that those whose cleverness is sufficient to disturb the crowd should be restrained.

Act through Wuwei (non-action), and nothing will be ungoverned: handling affairs in a Wuwei manner, there is nothing in the world that cannot be well governed. Heshang Gong says that not deliberately contriving but acting in accordance with nature is Wuwei.

Tang Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong Li Longji of the Tang, who once annotated the Daodejing) says: By acting through Wuwei (non-action), one can preserve one’s original nature; when original nature is preserved, social customs become honest and simple, and trustworthiness arises naturally. Heshang Gong (a Han-dynasty scholar who annotated the Laozi) says: When the transforming influence of De (Virtue/Power) is deep, the common people can be at peace. Wang Pang (son of Wang Anshi of the Northern Song and author of a Laozi Commentary) says: What is called “acting through non-action” does not mean doing nothing at all; it means acting within non-action, with the aim of enabling people to return to their original nature.

In my humble opinion, after the Three Dynasties, there was no one among the common people who had not lost their original nature. Therefore the noble man, firm of will and fond of good conduct, ceaselessly seeks out worthy talents; the petty man, weak in sinew and bone and greedy for wealth and profit, chases after goods without ever being satisfied. Those whose wills are firm have much scheming and knowledge; those whose sinews and bones are weak have many desires. Some value cleverness and cunning, others value greed and desire; though the directions they pursue differ, they all rush outward and injure their original nature, and in this they are actually the same.

Only the perfected person is not like this. He weakens his will and does not chase after external fame and profit; he is content to dwell lowly and seeks what is close at hand; he regards himself as having nothing to seek, and so the Dao (the Way) is naturally sufficient in him. He strengthens his sinews and bones not in order to stand on his own and display worthiness thereby, but in order to restrain greed and desire and to make himself revere De. In this way, fame cannot shake him, profit cannot drown him, and his original nature remains constantly at peace.

Daodejing, chapter 4: “The Dao is chong, yet when used it is perhaps never full.”

Heshang Gong glosses chong as zhong (“center” or “middle”), meaning that the Dao conceals its name and hides its good reputation; its function lies in abiding in centrality and harmony, not in filling itself to overflowing. Although the Dao’s function is inexhaustible, it seems never to be full.

The Dao moves and gives rise to the Qi of harmonious emptiness, and through this it nurtures the myriad things. The Dao has the power of generation, yet it never overflows. The phrase “perhaps it resembles” is used because one does not dare to speak of the Dao directly and can only say “perhaps it resembles it.” (Heshang Gong says that “perhaps” means “constantly”: the Dao constantly remains humble and never fills itself.) Commentators say that the Dao fills the universe, with no outside beyond it, and abundantly nourishes the myriad things, yet it seems both to exist and not to exist; hence the saying “or perhaps it is not full.” As both empty and full, it is called Chong. Chong is the state of harmonious balance between Yin and Yang, taking emptiness as its substance. When the Dao acts upon the myriad things it manifests as central balance; when it responds to the myriad affairs it manifests as emptiness. Here the term is used with respect to its function, and so it is called Chong.

The Dao is profound, deep, and still, like an unfathomable abyss, and it seems to be the root and master of the myriad things. (Wang Pang says that the Dao gives birth to the myriad things while its essence never departs from them; only from the perspective of the myriad things as scattered and differentiated does it appear to be the ancestor of the myriad things.) “Yuan” means deep, distant, and unfathomable. Human beings are originally complete in this Dao; to realize it, one need not seek it outside. Rather, one should “blunt the sharpness and untie the tangles,” withdrawing one’s edge and dissolving disturbances, and “harmonize the light and become one with the dust” (concealing one’s brilliance and merging with the mundane world; from Laozi, chapter 56). In this way the Dao naturally remains within oneself.

Annotations on Words and Phrases

“Blunt the sharpness”: Heshang Gong says that “sharpness” refers to a pointed edge. If people single-mindedly press forward and seek fame and merit, they should blunt and suppress this sharp energy. Another commentator says that once the sharp energy is blunted, the original nature becomes whole and undivided; the original meaning of “sharp” is the form of something pointed.

“Untie the tangles”: to dissolve the disturbances and entanglements of worldly affairs.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (Minghuang) comments: Dao (the Way) takes empty openness and harmonious compliance as its foundation; therefore it can restrain people’s sharp edges and aggressive energy and dissolve entanglement and disturbance. If one indulges in worldly learning and single-mindedly pursues what one desires, the knots of entanglement only become tighter. Heshang Gong (the commentator) says: “Fen, entanglement, means harboring resentful knots. One should reflect that Dao is Wuwei (non-action), and resolve them with a Wuwei mind.” Wang Pang says: Do not contend with external things; quietly observe the myriad things returning to their root, and nature and life will be settled, and confusion will dissolve.

“Harmonize its light”: Heshang Gong says that even if one has penetrating intelligence, one should be like someone dim and obscure, not displaying it, not disturbing others with the brilliance of one’s light. Wang Pang says: Blunt the sharp energy and resolve contention, and one’s disposition becomes settled; naturally one is full and the radiance is stored within. Since there is light, one should not differ from the myriad things but harmonize and identify with them, just as the Yi (Book of Changes) says, “Meng is mixed yet not clinging.”

“Become one with its dust”: Emperor Xuanzong comments: Dao is omnipresent, and yet wherever it is, it is always without form or trace. Whether in light or in dust, one is one body with Dao. One should unite with the myriad things, but this does not mean that light and dust themselves are Dao. Heshang Gong says: One should share the dust and grime with the crowd and not set oneself apart as lofty and extraordinary. Xiu’s commentary says: Dao is the constant condition of nature; having attained the constant condition of nature, what is there worth prizing? Therefore the perfected person possesses Dao but does not think himself different from the dusty world.

“Deep and still, it seems perhaps to exist”: Emperor Xuanzong comments: Harmonizing with light and becoming one with dust, yet the mysterious root is not defiled; therefore it is said to be deep, clear, and still, as if something is present. Heshang Gong says: One should be deep and quiet, and only then can one endure long without perishing. Wang Pang says: If a person can practice the above four things, Dao will be profoundly and enduringly present. If one concludes that it truly exists, then it is not Dao. The words “seems perhaps” mean that it cannot be determined as existent.

“I do not know whose child it is; it images forth before the Lord”: Heshang Gong says: Laozi means, I do not know from what Dao is born. Xiu’s commentary says: This is what is now called the inner body of Dao; it seems to have something from which it emerges. Although it seems to have an origin, it is empty, silent, and without image; therefore it says, “I do not know whose child it is.” “It images forth before the Lord” means that Dao existed before the Heavenly Lord and is the root from which the Heavenly Lord comes forth.

Scriptural passage: It seems to precede the Heavenly Emperor. (From Laozi, Chapter Four)

The commentator (Minghuang, namely Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Li Longji) says: I do not know where the Dao comes from. The Dao is not produced by anything else; therefore it is said to have no father. It seems to have existed before the Heavenly Emperor (the sovereign that gives rise to the myriad things), but we do not know whose son it is. “Xiang” means “like,” “as if.”

Heshang Gong (a Han-dynasty Daoist scholar who annotated Laozi) says: The Dao is naturally before the Heavenly Emperor; this means that the Dao already existed before heaven and earth arose.

Wang Bi (a scholar of Wei during the Three Kingdoms who annotated Laozi) says: One who holds only the capacity of a single household cannot keep that household whole; one who holds only the capacity of a single state cannot govern that state well. If one exhausts all one’s strength in lifting a heavy object, one cannot make it serve. Thus, although people know that the myriad things are to be governed, if they do not follow the Dao of heaven and earth, they cannot sustain them for long. Although earth has form, if it does not model itself on heaven, it cannot preserve its tranquillity; although heaven has a bright image, if it does not accord with the Dao, it cannot preserve its brightness. The Dao in its operation is empty and void, not full, and therefore its use is inexhaustible. If one seeks fullness, then when the substantial arrives it overflows; hence “empty and use it,” and yet it does not reach overflow. Its operation is endless, and yet it has measure. Although the Dao’s body is great, it does not burden its own substance; although affairs are many, they cannot fill its capacity. The myriad things abandon it and seek a master—where then is that master? Is it not deep and profound, like the ancestor of the myriad things? It blunts sharpness without being damaged, untangles confusion without effort, harmonizes its light without being stained by turbidity, and dwells with dust and custom without changing its original nature. It is deep and hidden, as if present, yet elusive. Earth keeps the De of its form and cannot exceed the scope of what it bears; heaven relies on the De of its image and cannot exceed the scope of what it covers. Since neither heaven nor earth can match it, is this not precisely like being before the Heavenly Emperor? (“Emperor” means the Heavenly Emperor.)

The commentator (“Xiu”) says: “Xiang” is a visible sign; “Di” is the honored one among things. Even if one is an emperor or king, the Dao still precedes emperors and kings.

Chapter Five: “Heaven and Earth Are Not Benevolent” (the title of Laozi, Chapter Five)

The original text has only the single line “Heaven and earth are not benevolent,” so we can only understand it briefly as follows: Heaven and earth treat the myriad things impartially, without partiality, allowing all things to grow naturally.

Scripture: Heaven and Earth are not benevolent; they treat the myriad things as straw dogs.

Heshang Gong’s commentary (Heshang Gong is traditionally said to have been a Han-dynasty recluse and the author of a commentary on the Daodejing): Heaven and Earth exercise their transformative power to give birth to and nourish the myriad things; they do not rely on benevolent love or gracious favor, but simply let naturalness take its own course.

The commentary of Tang Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Li Longji): Heaven and Earth give birth to and nurture the myriad things. Among them, humans are the most noble, yet Heaven and Earth regard the myriad things just as they regard straw dogs and livestock; they do not expect the myriad things to repay them.

Heshang Gong further comments: Heaven and Earth accord with and let naturalness take its course; they do not construct anything, nor do they act. The myriad things govern themselves; therefore it is said, “not benevolent.” If it were benevolent, it would necessarily establish something and bestow teaching and transformation, possess favors and perform actions; then the myriad things would lose their original true nature. Where there is favor and action, the myriad things cannot exist whole; if the myriad things are not whole, they cannot attain their complete fulfillment. Heaven and Earth do not plant grass for wild beasts so that wild beasts may eat it, nor do they create dogs for humans; they transform and nurture the myriad things through Wuwei (non-action), and thus each thing suits its own use, and none fails to obtain what nourishes it. If one interferes with one’s own cleverness, one is still not adequate to bear this responsibility.

Another commentator, “Xiu,” notes: The straw dog is an object made of straw used in sacrifice. At the time of sacrifice, people solemnly perform the rites and pay it reverence; once the sacrifice is over, they discard it like dung and dirt. When it is honored in the rite, it is not that they are insincere; but it is merely a bundle of straw and truly does not deserve reverence. Since it does not deserve reverence, and yet reverence is still paid to it, this too is not from one’s original intention. The myriad things each follow their constant principles; life and death, success and failure have their own inevitable reasons. Yet Heaven and Earth alone are regarded as the parents of the myriad things, so they cannot be without love. If we trace back to the source the mind of Heaven and Earth, where has there ever been any entanglement? Therefore, when it bestows love, although it is utterly sincere and the myriad things naturally grow, in truth there is nothing in them worthy of love; looking back at their end, they simply return to the same place as dung and dirt—how could it retain affection for them?

Laozi says that Heaven and Earth show no partiality to any side, and the sage likewise models Heaven and Earth, not favoring one over another out of private benevolence.

Heshang Gong, a Han dynasty scholar who annotated the Laozi, explains that the sage nurtures the myriad people without using a mind of benevolent grace; instead he models Heaven and Earth and accords with naturalness. The Northern Song scholar Wang Pang says that “benevolence” is loving the myriad things according to the human Dao (the Way), whereas Heaven and Earth, though they may have human form, are essentially Heaven, so it is not fitting to call them “benevolent.”

On the line “treats the common people as straw dogs,” Tang Minghuang, that is, Emperor Xuanzong Li Longji, comments that “not benevolent” means not bestowing benevolent grace. Straw dogs are dogs made of grass. A real dog can keep watch at night and guard the courtyard, and people have the grace of raising it; a straw dog only has the shape of a dog and cannot guard or bark, so no benevolence can be spoken of toward it. This means that Heaven and Earth regard people just as people regard straw dogs, without any expectations.

Tang Minghuang further argues that the supremely benevolent person has no particular object of intimacy. If he is intimate with only one person, this is not universal love but partiality. If he does not favor his own kin but treats all under Heaven as kin, and does not favor his own children but treats all under Heaven as his children, then “no kin” becomes the most thorough kinship; this is true universal love.

Heshang Gong also says that the sage regards the common people as he regards straw dogs and livestock, not requiring them to repay him with ritual. Wang Bi, a Wei scholar of the Three Kingdoms period, says that the sage accords with the virtue of Heaven and Earth, and so uses straw dogs as a metaphor for the common people. Wang Pang says that the sage is intimate with kin and benevolent to the people, and therefore the scripture only says “common people”; if one speaks of his Dao, the sage and Heaven and Earth are originally one body, and only because of human bodily form do people’s circumstances and capacities differ.

Regarding “between Heaven and Earth,” Heshang Gong says that between Heaven and Earth is empty, and harmonious Qi (vital energy) flows, so the myriad things grow naturally. If people can remove passions and desires, moderate the flavors of food and drink, and make the five viscera pure and clean, then Shen (spirit) will dwell therein.

The final phrase, “Is it not like a bellows?,” in which “chongyue” is “tuoyue” (tuó yuè), refers to the ancient bellows used for blowing air. It is used as a metaphor for the principle of Qi transformation between Heaven and Earth: empty yet inexhaustible, and the more it is activated, the more it issues forth.

Emperor Ming (Tang Xuanzong) says: Tuo is the bellows; yue is the flute (that is, the ancient yue, a wind instrument). The bellows can blow air, and the flute can produce sound by means of the air current, both because their interiors are empty and they have no preconceived mind; thus they can move in response to the working of external things and make corresponding responses. That the space between heaven and earth can give birth to and nourish the myriad things without selfish intent is likewise because it is empty and without mind.

Heshang Gong says: The flute is empty inside, and only thus can it emit sound and air.

Wang Pang says: The bellows and flute, because they are empty, can respond to and accord with external things. As soon as an external thing stirs them, they respond; after responding, they retain nothing. Heaven and earth’s dealing with the myriad things, and the sage’s dealing with the people, both follow the immediate circumstances of things in responding; they are not entangled by what is before them, nor do they leave emotion attached to what has already passed. Therefore it says they are like bellows and flute and can be inexhaustible.

“It is empty yet not exhausted; the more it is moved, the more it produces.”

Emperor Ming says: The bellows and flute are empty, and therefore cannot be pressed flat; the more they are worked, the more sound they emit. This is used to illustrate that the sage’s mind has no partial favor, and so there is no time when it is bent or thwarted; its function in responding to things is never exhausted, and one may say that “the more it moves, the more it produces.”

Heshang Gong says: This means that empty things never have a time of being used up; the more they are shaken, the more sound and air are emitted.

Wang Bi says: Tuo refers to the bellows, and yue to the musical instrument the flute. Their interiors are hollow, without desire and without contrivance; therefore they are empty and not exhausted, worked and not used up. The space between heaven and earth is broad and without things, letting all be natural, and so it too is not exhausted, like the bellows and flute.

Wang Pang says: “Empty” refers to its substance; “moving” refers to its function.

“Much speech leads to repeated exhaustion,”

Heshang Gong says: Meddling in many affairs harms the Shen (spirit); speaking too much harms the body; if the mouth is opened too much, the tongue will be worn out.

Wang Pang says: To speak without responding to external things is to fall into difficulty. Speech can make people know one’s meaning; this is what the sage does, but even when the sage speaks, he does not act recklessly.

“It is better to keep to the center.”

Rather than much speech, it is better to hold fast to the Dao of emptiness, stillness, and centrality (zhong means the state of empty stillness, centeredness, and impartiality, neither leaning nor biased).

Chapter Six: The Valley Spirit (Gushen) Does Not Die

Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Li Longji, who annotated the Daodejing) says: Speaking too much without knowing restraint, one repeatedly falls into difficulty. If one indiscriminately loves all people, it is hard to be comprehensive and one instead invites resentment and hatred. Better to hold fast to the way of central harmony; then all matters are naturally complete.

Heshang Gong (the famous Han commentator on Laozi) says: Better to keep De (Virtue/Power) within the heart, nourish Shen (spirit), cherish Qi (vital energy), and speak little.

Wang Bi (a Wei-Jin Xuanxue thinker) says: The more deliberately one acts, the more one loses natural authenticity. When things each set up their own perverse extremes and words become disordered, unable to be ordered or made coherent, this too is a path to exhaustion. Hold to the way of emptiness within like the tuoyue (ancient bellows), and there is no exhaustion; discard one’s own views and let the ten thousand things follow their natural course, and there is nothing that cannot be governed. If the bellows deliberately tried to make a sound, it could not satisfy the needs of the one blowing it.

Wang Pang (son of Wang Anshi of the Northern Song and author of the Laozi Xunzhuan) says: By holding to the way of emptiness within, one can respond to ten thousand changes.

Scripture: The Valley Spirit (Gushen) Does Not Die

Minghuang says: “Valley” means being empty and yet able to respond to all things; “Shen (spirit)” means subtle and unfathomable; “death” means cessation. A valley echoes sound, and people do not know why it is so. When there is a stimulus, there is a response; its responding is like something divine, and such wondrous responding never ceases. Wishing to explain that the supreme Dao (the Way) is empty and yet able to generate the ten thousand things, and that its wondrous function is difficult to name, [the text] uses the valley spirit as a metaphor.

Heshang Gong says: “Valley” means to nourish; if a person can nourish the spirit, he will not die. “Spirit” refers to the spirits of the five viscera: the liver stores the hun-soul, the lungs store the po-soul, the heart stores Shen (spirit), the kidneys store Jing (essence), and the spleen stores the will. If all five viscera are injured, the five spirits depart.

Wang Pang says: The valley echoes sound without exhausting, and its wondrous transformations are unfathomable. The ten thousand things receive their endowment from me, yet I have never been born and have never died; this is the Valley Spirit. To speak of “spirit” is already the utmost, and yet the word “valley” is added because the valley can be both empty and full, and can also contain and respond.

Scripture: Because it lives without decay, it is simply called “not dying.”

Because it is ceaselessly alive and never decays, it is only called “not dying.”

Scripture: This is called the Mysterious Female (Xuanpin).

This is called the Mysterious Female (Xuanpin). Xuanpin refers to the mysterious maternal principle, namely the root and gateway through which the Dao gives birth to and transforms heaven and earth and the ten thousand things.

Emperor Ming (Tang Xuanzong) said: “Xuan” means profound and far-reaching, while “pin” means the maternal body. The Valley Spirit (Gushen)—a metaphor for the empty, soft, ceaselessly generative source spirit—responds to all things and transforms and nurtures them. Its operation is empty and unbounded, without fixed direction, profoundly wondrous and inexhaustible, and it can serve as the mother of all things. Thus the names “Valley Spirit” and “Xuanpin” (Mysterious Female) are used to make manifest the Dao’s function of generating and nourishing all things.

Heshang Gong said: This is saying that the way of not dying lies within Xuanpin. “Xuan” is like Heaven and, in the human body, corresponds to the nose; “pin” is like Earth and, in the human body, corresponds to the mouth (the original uses “river” as a metaphor for the mouth and throat passage). Heaven nourishes people with the five qi: qi enters through the nose, is stored in the heart, and makes the five viscera clear and unobstructed, transforming into spirit, intelligence, voice, and the five natures. The “gui” within it is called Hun; Hun belongs to Yang, governs the inflow and outflow of human breath through the nose, and communicates with Heaven—therefore the nose is called “Xuan.” Earth nourishes people with the five flavors: food enters through the mouth, is stored in the stomach, and transforms into turbid and heavy matter, forming the physical frame, bones and flesh, blood and vessels, and the six emotions and desires. The “gui” within it is called Po; Po belongs to Yin, governs what enters and exits the mouth, and communicates with Earth—therefore the mouth is called “Pin.”

Xiu (the commentator) said: The Valley Spirit receives the heavenly mandate and transforms into Xuanpin; it is endowed with the nature of Yin-Yang and thereby brings Heaven and Earth to completion, yet the two are originally one and the same. Because it receives the heavenly mandate, it is called “Valley Spirit”; because it endows form, it is called “Xuanpin.”

The gate of Xuanpin is the root of Heaven and Earth.

This passage explains the meaning of “Xuanpin” (the mysterious female) in the Laozi; it concerns the fundamental gate that gives birth to and nourishes the myriad things.

The scripture says that “Xuanpin”—with “female” (pin) denoting the female, fertile mother—is profound and obscure, and is the mother of the myriad things. The myriad things arise from it, and so it is called a “gate.” Heaven and earth have form and can be seen, yet their root lies in this obscure and subtle place.

The commentary of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (Minghuang) says: “Xuanpin” refers to the passage of the nostrils in each inhalation and exhalation, the gateway that connects the Qi of heaven and earth, the portal through which the original Qi comes and goes, enters and exits. Heshang Gong (He) holds the same view.

Another commentator, Xiu, believes that Xuanpin belongs to Yin, and that within the whole of Yin there is itself a distinction between Yin and Yang. It is called a “gate” rather than a “door” because a gate is more deeply hidden than a door; the myriad things come and go through it, yet people do not see it, and so it is called the “gate of Xuanpin.”

For the line “continuous, as if existing,” Heshang Gong says that breathing and respiration should be long, fine, and subtle, as if present and yet not. The Northern Song scholar Wang Pang says that “continuous” means drawn out without interruption; the mysterious female generates ceaselessly, as if existing and yet not, so that it is difficult to determine whether it exists or not.

For the line “use it without toil,” the commentary offers no explanation; the general meaning is that when one draws upon and uses it, it is not exhausted, nor does one feel fatigue.

Tang Xuanzong (Minghuang) comments: The Dao’s use of the “empty female” (xu pin; “female” here refers to a valley, a metaphor for the Dao that is empty yet able to give birth to the ten thousand things) is continuous and unbroken, subtle and difficult to fathom. When it exerts its function, it seems as if present and yet as if absent; its operation is without intention and through Wuwei (non-action), and so it does not become weary.

Heshang Gong (a Han dynasty commentator) says: To nourish and regulate primordial Qi, one should be gentle, relaxed, broad, and harmonious; one must not be rash or recklessly active, otherwise it will exhaust a person.

Wang Bi (a Wei-Jin metaphysician) says: The “Valley Spirit” is the empty space at the center of a valley. It is without form or shadow; it neither opposes nor resists; it dwells lowly and humbly without reckless action; it maintains purity and stillness without decline. The valley is completed through emptiness, yet its shape cannot be seen—this is the highest “supreme thing” (zhiwu). It occupies a lowly place and cannot be named, and so it is called the root of Heaven and Earth. If one says it exists, no trace can be seen; if one says it does not exist, all things rely on it for birth—hence “continuous, as if existing.” The “Mysterious Female” (xuan pin) is the gate through which all things come and go. Tracing its source, it is identical with the “Ultimate” (the ultimate substance), and so it is said to be the root of Heaven and Earth. There is no thing that is not completed through it; using it, one does not feel toil—hence “use it without exertion.”

Xiu (a commentator) says: The more it moves, the more ceaselessly the ten thousand things arise and multiply; how can one speak of “movement” at all?

Heaven and Earth Are Long-Lasting: The reason Heaven and Earth can endure long is that they do not seek survival for themselves; therefore they can long endure.

The reason Heaven and Earth can endure is that they do not live for themselves; therefore they can long endure.

Heshang Gong (the legendary Han-dynasty commentator on the Laozi) says that Heaven and Earth are quiet and Wuwei (non-action), giving to the myriad things without seeking return, unlike people in the world who eagerly seek their own enrichment and seize from others to complete themselves. Wang Bi says that if one lives only for oneself, one will contend with the myriad things; if one does not live for oneself, the myriad things instead return to one.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (Minghuang) says that Heaven and Earth give birth to and nurture the myriad things, and their functions are exceedingly many, yet they can endure because they are endowed by the Dao (the root and natural principle of the myriad things) and do not boast of their merit in giving birth and nurturing. Heshang Gong also says that Heaven and Earth do not seek survival, and therefore can endure without cease. The commentator “Xiu” says that if one clings to “I want to live,” once this thought arises, the vitality of life is instead lost; only when one does not take living as one’s purpose is life no longer burdened by living. Although the physical form in which life is lodged has birth and extinction, it is not burdened, and so it can endure. That Heaven and Earth do not live for themselves is not because they seek long endurance; it is simply the Dao as it is. What is called long endurance is itself only a moment; only that which sustains the myriad things and is never destroyed is true long endurance.

Therefore the sage places his own body behind, which Heshang Gong explains as putting others first and himself last. As a result, his body instead comes to the front; Heshang Gong comments that the people of the world respect him, and therefore push him forward. Wang Pang (a Northern Song scholar) says that although the sage is sagely wise, his physical form is no different from ordinary people’s; only by realizing the Dao of Heaven and not contending can he surpass the multitude. If the sage established himself and contended with others, then even ordinary men and women would be enough to surpass him.

“Externalizing his body” means placing oneself outside consideration, not calculating one’s own gain and loss.

Heshang Gong says: Only by placing oneself behind others and regarding oneself lightly can one stand out uniquely among the multitude. If one takes one’s stand on the self and contends with the multitude, then even an ordinary man or woman would be enough to surpass him.

Heshang Gong explains “regarding the body as external” as placing oneself behind, not taking oneself as weighty, and thereby being able to preserve oneself.

Tang Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Li Longji) says: By placing oneself behind others, people are glad to promote him, and so he can be first; by setting the body aside, the mind becomes pure and peaceful, and so the body can be preserved. Heshang Gong further says: The people love and revere him as if he were their parent, and the spirits protect him as a newborn child, and so his body endures. Wang Pang (son of Wang Anshi of the Northern Song and a commentator on the Laozi) says: If there is a fixation on “I” and a desire to preserve oneself, then all things become one’s enemies; only by transcendentally forgetting the self and not treating one’s body as private property can external things no longer overturn him. Is this not because he is selfless?

Tang Minghuang explains “therefore he can accomplish his private ends”: Heaven and Earth forget their merit of giving birth to and nurturing the myriad things—this is selflessness; yet they can endure long without decay—this is “accomplishing their private ends.” The sage places himself behind others—this is selflessness; yet he can be first and can preserve his body—this is “accomplishing his private ends.” Heshang Gong says: People of the world take “private” to mean generously benefiting oneself; the sage is selfless, yet he himself receives generous benefit, and so he can accomplish his private ends. Wang Bi (Wei-Jin metaphysician) says: Selflessness means not deliberately acting upon oneself (Wuwei with respect to the body). Being placed behind yet becoming first, the body being preserved—this is why it is said that he can accomplish his private ends. The commentator “Xiu” says: The sage is selfless because he has never had the thought of “I”; if he deliberately calculated and acted, that would be the extreme of self-interest.

Chapter Eight: The Highest Good Is Like Water

Tang Minghuang says of “the highest good is like water”: This is meant to elucidate the highest good virtue of the perfected person, and so it uses the nature of water as an analogy; water’s nature is close to the Dao. Heshang Gong says: The person of highest good has a De like water. Wang Pang says: Water is the foremost of the Five Phases; it arises from emptiness and enters into tangible form, and is nearest to the Dao, and so its nature is most nearly that of the Dao. Only when one departs from the Dao does the name “good” come into being; that the highest good is like water is the naturalness of the principle of things.

Water is good at benefiting all things

Laozi says that the highest good is like water: it is good at nourishing all things. Pang’s commentary: Water is the first of the Five Phases (Wuxing: metal, wood, water, fire, earth); it arises from emptiness and nothingness and enters into tangible substance. It is not yet far from Dao (the Way), the fundamental principle of all things in the universe, and so its nature is closest to Dao. That it can depart from Dao and nonetheless acquire the name of “good” is precisely the natural principle of things. Heshang Gong’s commentary: In heaven water becomes mist and dew; on earth it gathers into springs.

Yet it does not contend and dwells where the multitude despises

Everyone dislikes low-lying, damp, filthy, and turbid places, yet water can flow quietly and come to rest there. Wang Bi’s commentary: People dislike low places. Pang’s commentary: For “dwells,” one edition has “resides.”

Therefore it is close to Dao

The commentary of Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong of Tang): “Ji” means “close to.” Heshang Gong’s commentary: Water’s original nature is near to Dao. Wang Bi’s commentary: Dao is formless while water has form, and so the text says “ji,” that is, approximate. Xiu’s commentary: The human mind belongs to fire; the nature of fire rises upward and is bright, and therefore it loves contention. Only one who forgets selfish intentions and realizes Dao can benefit all things without using mental cunning to overcome other things.

Its dwelling is good ground

Minghuang’s commentary: The person of highest good conducts himself in the world with softness and weakness, like water dwelling on the earth and moistening all things. The earth takes lowliness as its function, and water also likes to flow toward low places. Heshang Gong’s commentary: Water likes to cling to the earth; if it is above plants and trees, it follows the situation and flows down, and thus can have an effect on things on the earth. Xiu’s commentary: It flows toward low places.

Its mind is good at being deep

Minghuang’s commentary: Its use of mind is deep, still, and tranquil, like spring water pooled in a deep place. Heshang Gong’s commentary: Water is deep and empty, abyssal and clear. Pang’s commentary: Inwardly it is deeply still; outwardly it seems obscure, yet within it is clear.

In giving, it is good at being benevolent

Minghuang’s commentary: Its giving accords with supreme benevolence, as water moistens all things. Heshang Gong’s commentary: All things grow because they obtain water; water gives to empty places and does not give to places already full.

In speech, it is good at being trustworthy

This means that the goodness of speech lies in trustworthiness, and that when speaking one must keep one’s word. (No original commentary for this sentence was found; this is interpreted only according to the literal sense.)

This passage is a commentary on the section “The highest good is like water” in Chapter 8 of the Laozi. The commentators are Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (Minghuang), Heshang Gong (a Han-dynasty Daoist scholar who annotated the Laozi and is referred to in the text as “He”), and Wang Pang (son of Wang Anshi of the Northern Song, who also annotated the Laozi).

In speech, it is good at trustworthiness: Emperor Xuanzong says that words are truthful, just as water, though it flows through steep and dangerous places, does not lose its reliability. Heshang Gong says that water can reflect a person’s form and shadow; this is water preserving its true condition. Wang Pang says that the myriad things flow on and invariably go eastward.

In government, it is good at governing: Emperor Xuanzong says that being good at ordering government is like water washing the myriad things and bringing them back to purity and quiet. Heshang Gong says that there is nothing that cannot be washed; water is clear and calm. Wang Pang says that by following the principles of things and not indulging private feelings, and by accumulating the power of the soft and weak, one can overcome things hard, strong, and great.

In affairs, it is good at capability: Emperor Xuanzong says that handling affairs well means employing things according to circumstances, like the nature of water, which takes shape according to whether the vessel is square or round and does not linger on any one thing. Heshang Gong says that water can be square or round; bending or straightening, it follows the shape of whatever contains it. Wang Pang says that it adapts to change, and therefore there is nothing it cannot do.

In movement, it is good at timeliness: Emperor Xuanzong says that when external things stir it, it responds and moves without missing its moment, like water rising in spring and freezing in winter. Heshang Gong says that in summer it disperses and in winter it congeals; it moves in accord with the season and does not violate the timing of Heaven. Wang Pang says that it stops when obstructed and flows when guided; it does not move ahead of external things, and so it does not miss the timing.

It is only because it does not contend that it has no blame: Heshang Gong says that when water is blocked it stops, and when guided it flows, following the arrangements of external force. Precisely because water does not contend with things, it has no fault or blame.

Holding it and filling it to the brim—better to stop in time.

Emperor Ming of Tang (Tang Minghuang, that is, Emperor Xuanzong, Li Longji) explains: To cling to fullness and want it not to overturn or drain away—if accumulating goods and wealth becomes a burden, regret and remorse will arise accordingly, so it is better to stop. “Yi” means to stop.

Heshang Gong (traditionally a Han-dynasty commentator on the Laozi) says: “Ying” means full, and “yi” means stop. When a vessel is full, it easily overturns; better to stop.

Wang Bi (a Three Kingdoms Wei scholar who commented on the Laozi) says: “Chi” means preserving one’s De (Virtue/Power) without losing it. Since De is not lost, and one further seeks to make it full, the situation is bound to become precarious; hence “better to stop,” meaning that such conduct is inferior to that of one who has neither De nor achievements.

Wang Pang (son of Wang Anshi of the Northern Song) says: To deliberately “hold” and make it “full” is to set one’s mind on “Being,” and so one instead loses it. Only by forgetting what makes “Being” be “Being,” and by treating “Being” with the attitude of “Non-being,” can one neither lose it nor let it overflow.

Hammering it and sharpening it to a point—it cannot be preserved for long.

If a vessel is hammered until it is too sharp, its point cannot be kept for long.

Honing and sharpening it, one cannot preserve it for long

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (Minghuang) comments: To hammer, polish, and temper an object until it is sharp, single-mindedly pursuing glory and reputation—when people become rich and honored, they are bound to grow arrogant and invite disaster, and so it cannot be preserved for long.

Heshang Gong (the Han commentator) comments: “Chuai” means “to fashion” or “to bring into order.” Once an object has first been brought into good order, it is inevitably discarded afterward.

Wang Bi (the Wei-Jin commentator) comments: When the tip has been ground fine and the blade has been sharpened, the situation inevitably leads to snapping and ruin, so it cannot be preserved for long.

Wang Pang (the Song commentator) comments: “Chuai” refers to skill in gauging human feelings; “rui” refers to skill in penetrating deeply into things. Moreover, things are endless, while a person relies only on this one body to respond to their transformations; then the capacities of gauging and forceful penetration will also reach exhaustion—how can they be preserved for long? Therefore the zhiren (one who has cultivated the Dao to the highest level) complies with the times and follows the principles of things, meeting the myriad things with a mind of “no-self” (the removal of selfish desires and attachments); thus their actions have no fixed direction, and their responses are inexhaustible.

Gold and jade fill the hall, yet none can guard them

Emperor Xuanzong comments: This shows that what is full and overflowing is difficult to guard for long.

Heshang Gong comments: Cravings and desires harm the spirit; too much wealth burdens body and mind.

Wang Bi comments: It is better to stop at the proper time.

Wang Pang comments: To pile up things external to oneself and guard them—what is guarded is not what one truly possesses; how can it last?

To be rich and honored yet arrogant is to bring calamity upon oneself

Emperor Xuanzong comments: This shows that one’s sharp edge must not be too exposed. A proud and self-important mind arises from within, so disaster does not come from anywhere else.

Heshang Gong comments: People who are rich and honored ought to relieve the poor and show compassion to the lowly; if instead they are arrogant and unrestrained, they will bring disaster upon themselves.

Wang Bi comments: It cannot be preserved for long.

Xiu (a commentator) comments: Arrogance arises from relying on external things. For one who relies on external things, what is there worth contending over? To cling to fullness while dwelling in a lowly position, one will instead find that each loss makes the situation more serious.

When the work is accomplished and the name is achieved, to withdraw the body—this is the Dao of Heaven

Emperor Xuanzong comments: Those who have achieved success and made a name should withdraw in good time in order to avoid the condition of fullness and excess; this too accords with the pattern of the Heavenly Dao.

Tang Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Li Longji, who once annotated the Daodejing) said: Those who have achieved success and established fame should withdraw early and no longer cling to glory. This is like the Dao of Heaven: there is fullness and waning, each with its own time; then one will have no anxiety.

Heshang Gong (traditionally a Han-dynasty recluse who annotated the Laozi) said: When people complete their undertakings and establish fame but do not withdraw and yield their position, they will meet with harm. This is the constant principle of the Dao of Heaven. For example, when the sun reaches noon it slants westward; after the moon is full it wanes; when all things reach the height of flourishing they decay; when joy reaches its extreme it turns to sorrow.

Wang Bi (a Wei figure of the Three Kingdoms period, who annotated the Laozi) said: Spring, summer, autumn, and winter revolve in turn; after achievements are accomplished, one must shift on and must not linger.

Wang Pang (a Northern Song figure, son of Wang Anshi and author of the Laozi Zhu) said: Cold and heat alternate; when things reach an extreme they return; Yin-Yang alternate in operation—this is the natural cycle of the Dao of Heaven. Yet the foolish people of the world, once they encounter change or become involved with fame and position, cling to them for life and regard them as their own, not knowing that Creation is secretly and quietly shifting, and that good and bad fortune lean on each other and transform into one another. Thus in the end they are beset by anxiety and cannot preserve themselves. Only the perfected person is not like this: such a person treasures gold and jade but does not deem them treasures, dwells in wealth and honor but does not take them as glory. Whatever external things lodge on one’s person are like a shadow attached to the body; in a blur one does not know whether it is there or in oneself. Seen this way, where is the need to rely on maintaining fullness to seek security, or on sharpening the edge to display ability? If not for the wondrous function of forgetting the self, how could this be done? In the greatness of the Dao of Heaven, nothing is higher than this.

Chapter Ten Title (Zai Yingpo, “Carrying the Hun and Po”)

“Zai Yingpo” is taken from the opening line of Chapter Ten of the Daodejing, “Carrying the hun and po and embracing the One—can one not separate from it?” Yingpo refers to a person’s hun and po, that is, the two aspects of body and mind; zai means to carry, sustain, and keep. This sentence says that one carries and keeps body and mind and causes them to unite with the Dao (“the One”) without separation.

This line of the Daodejing asks: Can the hun and po souls long embrace the “One” (the Dao of pure oneness) without separating?

Heshang Gong (signed “He”) says: Yingpo means the hun and po souls. People rely on the hun and po to live, so they should cherish and nurture them. Excessive joy and anger cause the hun to scatter and be lost; sudden fright injures the po. The hun resides in the liver, the po in the lungs; excessive fine wine and rich food also harm the liver and lungs. Therefore only when the hun is calm and the mind guards the Dao without disorder, and the po is settled and De is abundant, can one prolong life and increase longevity.

Wang Pang says: The po belongs to Yin and is the master of the bodily forms of the myriad things. Shen (spirit) is vast and penetrating, yet it cannot awaken itself; it often lodges within the po, and thus Shen is instead constrained by the physical form. This is why the vast becomes narrow and the penetrating becomes obstructed. Those who wish to learn this Dao should first broaden their resolve and spirit and not be burdened by the physical form, so that Shen merely “carries” above the po and is not enslaved by the po; in this way they can embrace and guard pure oneness and awaken to spiritual clarity.

The commentator further discusses this himself: After death, some people’s hun and po ascend and scatter, while others sink into the dark and transform into other kinds; the cause lies in extinguishing Shen and submitting to form, letting Shen follow the po. For one whose spirit is complete, even if the po has Yin stagnation, Shen can unite with it and be unobstructed wherever it goes. When a sage dies, Shen does not depart with the po; from the beginning, it merely carries the po.

Returning to the original question: If Shen can lead the po and is not constrained by the physical form, then one can embrace and guard pure oneness without departing from the Dao.

Tang Minghuang (Tang Xuanzong, Li Longji) comments: When human life first takes form, the po (bodily soul) comes first; after the po is generated, yang Qi (vital energy) follows, and this is called the hun (ethereal soul). The po belongs to Yin and leans toward emptiness; the hun belongs to Yang and is full and replete. Thus the human body bears the empty and still po, and one must constantly protect and nourish it so that yang Qi returns to sufficiency. When yang Qi fills the po, the po transforms into hun; the hun can then move and act, and only then can life be preserved. “One” means undivided. After yang Qi returns and life is preserved, it must not again be contaminated; therefore one should embrace and guard the Dao (the Way) of pure oneness, so that hun and po do not leave the body.

Heshang Gong comments: If a person can embrace and guard the “One” without letting it leave the body, he can long endure. The “One” is the Jing (essence) and Qi of Great Harmony first generated by the Dao, and so it is called “One.” It spreads throughout the world: Heaven obtains the One and becomes clear; Earth obtains the One and becomes peaceful; lords and kings obtain the One and can rectify the world. Inwardly it becomes the mind; outwardly it manifests as conduct; when extended outward it is De (Virtue/Power); altogether all are called the “One.” The meaning of “One” is singleness of heart and will, without a second mind.

Wang Bi comments: “Zai” means “to dwell,” referring to dwelling place. “Yingpo” is the body in which a person dwells. “One” is the person’s original authenticity. If one can dwell securely in the house of one’s own body, embrace and guard the “One,” and quiet one’s Shen (spirit), not departing from it for long, the myriad things will naturally submit.

Wang Pang (Northern Song scholar) comments: “One” is the fundamental number of Jing. The scripture does not say “Jing” but says “One,” because when the “One” is guarded, Jing does not waver. The root of cultivating the Dao lies in returning to one’s original nature; returning to original nature lies in causing Shen and Qi to return to their original substance. The reason people cannot preserve Shen and Jing is that they abandon the root and pursue the branches, exchanging themselves for external things; thus they lose Jing and Qi, extinguish spiritual clarity, and sink into ignorance. The hun belongs to Yang, so it wanders unsettled; the reason the hun can remain in the body is that the po is there to pair with it. The po belongs to Yin, so it can “ying” (rest and stay); therefore those who study the Dao must first stabilize their will and Qi, making Jing and po tranquil and unified. When the po is still, the hun is settled; when Jing is unified, Shen is complete. The “One” generates Water; Water is Jing. At the beginning of life, because of Jing, Shen is gathered; originally it is whole and complete. Only because one cannot understand clearly does it often come to scattering and depletion; this is called “wangliang.” “Wang” means Shen is not clear; “liang” means Jing is not unified. Zhuangzi says, “Do not agitate your Jing”; this is the meaning of embracing the One. Jing and Shen are like water and fire: fire has no constant form and only shows its brightness by relying on oil; Shen is empty and without body and cannot be forced. One need only preserve and nourish Jing and Qi, just as adding oil makes the fire brighter and cultivating the root makes the leaves flourish. Once hun, po, Jing, and Shen are not depleted, then the mind and will are firm, the breath is harmonious, and one is not controlled by external things. In stillness one realizes the great Dao; in movement one accords with Heavenly Principle. Carried to the utmost, one becomes one body with Shen, and there is no need to distinguish these four any longer. This is the ultimate essential of studying the Dao, and sages throughout the ages have all followed this principle. Seeking the Dao is not sought outside; it should be realized from one’s own heart-mind.

This chapter discusses how to concentrate and unify Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), make body and mind gentle and harmonious, and thereby become pure and desireless like an infant.

Tang Xuanzong (who calls himself “Minghuang” in his commentary) explains “concentrating and unifying the Qi of harmony” as single-mindedly guarding the Qi of emptiness and harmony so that it reaches a state of gentleness and harmony; “without any discrimination” means that the mind holds no thoughts of distinction, acceptance, or rejection. Heshang Gong (the famous Han-dynasty commentator on the Laozi) holds that when Jing and Qi are concentrated and guarded without scattering, the physical form becomes compliant and smooth; when the inner mind has no deliberations and outwardly one is not entangled by political affairs, the Shen (spirit) will not scatter. Wang Bi (a Wei-Jin metaphysical scholar) says that “zhuan” means to employ and “zhi” means the utmost, that is, to follow and employ one’s natural Qi so that it reaches the utmost gentleness and harmony, like an infant without greed or desire; in this way the myriad things are preserved intact and one’s original nature is revealed.

The commentator Xiu points out that the human body has three things: Jing, Shen, and Qi. When Jing is sufficient, Shen is complete; when Shen is complete, it can command Qi. If Shen is weak and lacks the strength to command Qi, Qi will rise and fall from moment to moment, leading one into deviant paths. Mencius says that “the will is the commander of Qi”; Yang Xiong (a Western Han scholar) also says that Qi is like a horse carrying a person galloping toward good or evil. If the commander is weak and the troops are scattered, the army will surely be defeated; if the horse is enraged and the driver loses control, the carriage will surely overturn. If Shen cannot concentrate and unify Qi, then joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure are all driven by Qi, and one sinks into indulgence and license—this is a natural principle. Scholars in ancient times all understood this; those who have not yet reached this state should purify their minds to guard against it. What Confucius called the “three warnings” (against lust in youth, contentiousness in adulthood, and acquisitiveness in old age) were all meant to guard against the reckless stirring of Qi. Among his disciples, only Yan Hui could concentrate his Qi, and so Confucius praised him as one who “did not transfer his anger.” The violent aspect of Qi belongs to Yang, and among Yang things none is more violent than anger; to refrain from transferring anger to others when angry is precisely the manifestation of concentrated Qi.

Human life originally possesses the substance of a sage; only because Qi scatters and cannot be concentrated does one, as the years increase, grow farther from the Dao (the Way). If one can embrace and guard the One, Shen becomes whole; when Shen is whole, Qi becomes gentle; when Qi is gentle, the true nature becomes whole, and thus one can be the same as an infant. The commentary explains the word “zhuan” as follows: zhuan means to possess and grasp its authority.

Cleanse and purify mysterious vision—can you be without blemish? Loving the people and governing the state—can you practice Wuwei (non-action)?

Plain-language interpretation:

Wash the mind, remove distracting thoughts, and make the inner heart clear as a bright mirror—can you be entirely without flaw? Caring for the people and governing the state—can you follow nature and avoid artificial contrivance?

Annotations:

Mysterious vision (xuanlan): “Xuan” means a deep, profound, mysterious realm; “lan” means observing or illuminating. “Xuanlan” is the state of mind in which the mind, dwelling in a profound and mysterious place, can illuminate all things. Heshang Gong held that the mind abides in the dark and mysterious, and therefore called it xuanlan.

Blemish (ci): a flaw or defect; here it means the dirt that arises when the mind is obscured by external things.

Wuwei (non-action): an important Daoist concept; it means not acting with arbitrary contrivance but following the inherent nature of things, not simply doing nothing.

Several notes on this passage:

These two sentences are the opening of Chapter 10 of the Laozi. The original text from “Cleanse and purify mysterious vision” to “can you be without blemish?” discusses cultivating the body and mind: one must wash away private desires and preconceptions so the mind is as clear as a mirror. The latter phrase, “Loving the people and governing the state—can you practice Wuwei?” discusses government: it should be rooted in purity, quietude, and Wuwei, without excessive interference. The one is inner and the other outer; inner cultivation of mind and outer governance of the state echo one another.

In the commentaries, Emperor Ming (Tang Xuanzong) holds that if one cleanses the mind’s vision and makes it pure and quiet, one can be without flaw or illness. Wang Bi says that one should remove evil adornments so that external things cannot obscure the mind’s clarity; only then can one unite with the mysterious Dao. Wang Pang holds that if one concentrates one’s Qi, one’s nature becomes stable; when nature is stable, wisdom becomes clear; when wisdom is clear, one can illuminate the ultimate principle.

Tang Minghuang said: In caring for and nurturing the people and personally handling state affairs, can one attain Wuwei (non-action)? If one can, the people will naturally be transformed. Governing the state must begin with the ruler himself: first cultivate himself, then teach others. Once he is cultivated, his De (Virtue/Power) is complete, and only then is he fit to be ruler.

Heshang Gong said: One who cultivates the self must regulate the breath evenly and preserve Jing and Qi (essence and vital energy), not allowing the desires of the ears and eyes to leak outward. One who governs the state must broadly extend beneficent government and virtuous rule, yet not let the people know that it comes from the ruler's actions.

Wang Bi said: To seek success by cunning and to seek concealment by cleverness—this is to have wisdom. If one can mirror all things without blemish, it is like renouncing sage wisdom. To govern without using cleverness is equivalent to discarding cleverness. If one can govern the state without cleverness, the people will not become perverse, and the state will naturally be stable.

Wang Pang said: As stated above, the principles of cultivating the self for oneself have been fully expounded; next they can be extended to others. Laozi's words are devoted to returning to one's original nature. If there is purposeful action, the people cannot be at peace in their original nature; therefore, although he loves the people and governs the state, he does not exalt purposeful action—this is the utmost of Dao.

Regarding “the opening and closing of the Heavenly Gate”: Heshang Gong holds that the Heavenly Gate refers to the Purple Micro Palace at the North Pole (the asterism of the North Star, regarded in Daoism as the residence of the Heavenly Emperor), and opening and closing refer to the beginning and end of things. In terms of self-cultivation, the Heavenly Gate refers to the nostrils; opening is exhaling, closing is inhaling. Emperor Ming of Tang, however, holds that the Heavenly Gate is the source of calendrical reckoning (the system for calculating seasons and times, by which the ancients foretold the Mandate of Heaven), and opening and closing refer to the order and disorder of the state. When the ruler complies with Heaven's timing and receives its mandate, this is the principle.

Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Li Longji) says: “Tianmen (Heavenly Gate)” refers to the place from which the mandate and destiny of Heaven issue; “opening and closing” refers to the order and disorder of the state. When a ruler receives the mandate in accord with Heaven’s destiny, if he can keep to the posture of female softness and stillness, he can long enjoy the blessings and emoluments bestowed by Heaven. Another interpretation cites the Changes: “One closing and one opening is called change.” This means that the sage grasps the times and responds as things change; he does not flaunt strength to seek victory but holds to the way of softness and the female, like the opening and closing of the Heavenly Gate, which diminishes the full and increases the modest and retiring.

Heshang Gong says: In cultivating the self, one should be quiet and yielding like the female; in governing the state, one should adapt to circumstances, be harmonious and compliant, and not take the lead.

Wang Bi says: The Heavenly Gate is where all things under Heaven enter and exit, and also the juncture at which order and disorder alternate. It sometimes opens and sometimes closes, penetrating all under Heaven, and so it is called “the opening and closing of the Heavenly Gate.” “Female” means complying without initiating, following along without reckless action. If one can keep to the female in the opening and closing of the Heavenly Gate, all things will naturally return to him, and his dwelling will naturally be at peace.

Wang Pang (Northern Song, son of Wang Anshi) says: The perfected person—one whose moral cultivation is exceedingly high—has no deliberate fabrication in the mind; when the spirit goes out or comes in, it merely complies and does not initiate. This is the meaning of what Zhuangzi calls “there is something that gathers it.” Laozi’s Dao corresponds to autumn among the four seasons. Autumn belongs to Metal; its De (Virtue/Power) governs solemn stillness and contraction. Therefore Laozi esteemed this state. As for the Changes, the xiantian (before Heaven and Earth divided) and the houtian (after form came into being) are nothing other than Dao (the Way).

“Clear understanding extending in all four directions”: Heshang Gong says: The clarity of Dao is like the light of the sun and moon; it reaches and spreads throughout the world, not excepting even the remotest places of the eight directions. Therefore it is said to be unseen and unheard, yet it is manifest and arrayed in the ten directions, shining brightly.

“Can one be without knowledge?” No commentary is attached to this sentence in the original text. The commentary on “clear understanding extending in all four directions” that appears again later is the same as the preceding passage, so it is not repeated. The phrase at the end, “Heaven—there is nothing that is not Dao,” is a remnant sentence from Wang Pang’s commentary above, and its meaning has already been explained above.

Clear and penetrating in all directions—can one be without knowledge?

Tang Xuanzong (Minghuang) says: If a ruler can keep to the soft and weak way of feminine stillness, the common people will gladly uphold his virtue, and his brilliance will shine in all directions like sunlight. Yet he must still forget his own achievements and not take himself as master; therefore it is said, “Clear and penetrating in all directions—can one be without knowledge?”

Heshang Gong (He) says: No one can know the principle that Dao fills all under Heaven.

Wang Bi says: When wisdom reaches utmost clarity, penetrates the four directions, and is entirely free from delusion, then being free from delusion one can practice Wuwei. In this way, the myriad things naturally transform and are nurtured. This is precisely what is meant by “Dao constantly practices Wuwei; if lords and kings can hold to it, the myriad things will transform themselves.”

The commentator Xiu says: The ultimate principle is not something that knowledge can exhaust in the first place. If one uses knowledge to respond to the myriad things, then since one has already understood the ultimate principle, one should return to non-knowledge. Only through non-knowledge can one be all-knowing. If one brightly assumes that one has knowledge, then that is non-knowledge. The wonder of non-knowledge—how could it be worthy of being called “knowledge”? He once discussed: The wisdom of the sage and the fool are originally without distinction of high or low. It is only because of foolishness that wisdom stands out, and only then does the name “sage” arise. As for the sage’s original mind, when did it ever consider itself sage? Thus, to be clear and penetrating in all directions while fundamentally having no clinging knowledge derived from seeing and hearing—this is the wisdom of the true sage.

It gives them life and rears them

Heshang Gong says: Dao gives birth to the myriad things and also rears them. Wang Bi says: Dao does not block the source of the myriad things or confine their original nature. Wang Pang (a Northern Song scholar) says: Once Dao’s function is complete, the power of creation is then held in one’s grasp, and one can generate, rear, and nurture the myriad things.

It gives them life but does not possess them

Heshang Gong says: Dao gives birth to the myriad things but does not take them as its own. Wang Pang says: Dao gives birth to the myriad things, and the myriad things and Dao are always one body—who then could possess whom?

It acts but does not presume upon it

Heshang Gong says: Dao acts with giving but does not expect repayment from the other. Wang Pang says: Such action arises from unavoidability; it acts only when things have already taken form. Even if there is merit from action, one transcends and forgets it—how could one still be self-important and boastful?

It rears them but does not lord over them

This sentence says that Dao nourishes and brings the myriad things to growth, yet does not regard itself as master, but lets all things grow naturally according to their own nature.

Heshang Gong (the Han-dynasty scholar who annotated the Laozi) says that Dao (the Way) gives birth to and nourishes all things, yet does not slaughter or carve them up, and does not process them into vessels for its own use.

Wang Pang (a Northern Song figure and son of Wang Anshi) says that if Dao operates as described above, it can nourish and nurture the world through Wuwei (non-action). Although Dao stands above all things, it is like a branch at the tip of a tree moving freely with the wind, without restraint—where is there any work of dividing and cutting? This is called “mysterious De” (Virtue/Power).

Tang Xuanzong (Emperor Ming of Tang) says that Dao lets all things follow their own lives and nourishes them. It causes all things to grow but does not claim them as its own; it acts but does not presume upon its merit; it occupies the position of nurturing but does not act as master. If a person can be like this, that is profound and mysterious De. Heshang Gong also says that the operation of Dao and the profound mystery of De leave no visible traces, and so people are made to model themselves on Dao.

Wang Bi (a man of Wei in the Three Kingdoms period who annotated the Laozi) says: do not block the source of all things, and all things naturally grow; do not confine the nature of all things, and all things naturally reach completion. All things grow and become full by themselves; there is no need for me to master and complete them. To possess De yet not regard oneself as master—how is this not mysterious? Whenever “mysterious De” is spoken of, it always means possessing De, but one should also know that its mastering power comes from a profound and invisible place.

Wang Pang also says that “Xuan” is the subtle and wondrous substance, while “De” is the manifestation that reaches its utmost. When Shun still dwelt in humble and lowly circumstances, he was already said to possess “mysterious De,” because the highest De constantly abides in no-thought and Wuwei. The essential meaning of this chapter lies in Wuwei; therefore, although it can nourish all things, its De is still called “mysterious.” This chapter begins with the scholar’s cultivation of the self and goes on to speak of spiritual penetration and entry into the sage’s realm; the entire sequence of self-cultivation is contained therein.

Thirty spokes together converge on a single hub.

Heshang Gong says that in ancient times a cart had thirty spokes, taking as its model the number of days in a month. “Together they share one hub” means that there is a hole in the center of the hub, around which the many spokes gather and jointly perform their function. One who cultivates the self should remove emotions and desires and make the five viscera empty, still, and clear; only then will Shen (spirit) return and dwell there. Governing a state is likewise so: only by being able to command the multitude and using the weak to assist the strong can affairs be brought to completion.

Chapter Eleven uses three examples—the cart, the vessel, and the room—to explain that the efficacy of tangible things depends on the “non-being” within them, that is, emptiness.

The Cart. Thirty spokes (the wooden bars connecting the hub and the rim) converge together on a single hub (the round wooden piece at the center of a wheel). Tang Xuanzong (Minghuang) holds that this shows the functions of being and non-being depend on and complete each other. “Sharing one hub” uses the cart to illustrate that the few can govern the many. Only when the shafts (the two wooden poles extending from the front of a cart) and the carriage box are joined does a cart come into being, and the box must be empty inside for it to hold things. If the cart were not empty inside, both the shafts and the box would become useless. Heshang Gong says that “non-being” means emptiness: when the hub is empty, the wheel can turn; when the carriage box is empty, people can ride in it. Wang Bi further points out that the hub can govern the thirty spokes precisely because it is empty and can accommodate the axle, so it can govern the many by means of the “solid.” Zhang Pang (a Northern Song scholar) says that in one edition the character gong (“together”) appears as yong (“use”).

The Vessel. “Shanzhi” refers to mixing water with earth and kneading it into shape. Heshang Gong’s commentary says: “Shan means to mix; zhi means earth.” That is, mixing earth to make vessels for food and drink. Tang Xuanzong adds that a potter mixes clay to make vessels such as earthen jars, and only when the vessel is empty inside can it hold things.

The Room. “Cutting out doors and windows” refers to opening doors and windows to build a house. Heshang Gong says this refers to building a house. Tang Xuanzong says that the ancients originally lived in caves and only later made doors and windows, hence the word “cut.” Heshang Gong also says that when doors and windows are empty, people can enter and leave and look through them; when the interior is empty, people can dwell in it—this is its function. Zhang Pang summarizes: these three things—the cart, the vessel, and the room—whether used for movement, for holding, or for dwelling, all take “non-being” as their usefulness.

Conclusion. Therefore, “being” brings convenience, while “non-being” is the root of its efficacy. Heshang Gong’s note “li means things” refers to the actual usefulness of vessels and implements to physical form. When a vessel contains things and a room contains people, there is fear that the room may be destroyed; when there is Shen (spirit) in a person’s belly, there is fear that the physical form may perish.

Emperor Ming of Tang (Tang Xuanzong, Li Longji) says: Things with physical form manifest their benefit through the function of the formless; formless things must borrow things with form in order to exert their function. The Laozi says, “That which is above form is called the Dao; that which is below form is called a vessel.” This is meant to explain that the function of the highest Dao (the Way) lies in functioning through “non-being.” Here, by borrowing the roughly visible “being” for explanation, it seeks to point out the benefit that the subtle “non-being” confers on “being.”

Heshang Gong says: Only what can contain emptiness can be used to receive the ten thousand things; therefore it is said that empty non-being controls things with form. The Dao is emptiness.

Wang Bi (a Wei-Jin Neo-Daoist scholar and commentator on the Laozi) says: The spokes and hub of a wheel (the round sleeve around the axle), the hollow interior of a clay vessel, and the walls, doors, and windows of a house—these three can accomplish their use only because the empty, “non-being” part in the middle performs the function. To say that “non-being” is the root by which “being” obtains benefit means that all things with form depend on formless space in order to function.

Wang Pang (a Northern Song scholar) says: Non-being and being are relative: only because there is being do being and non-being become distinguished; yet within “non-being” there is also “wondrous being,” that is, inexhaustible function. The merit of wondrous being is not the same as that of actually existing things with form and substance; such things cannot respond to inexhaustible function, and so they can only be called “benefit.” “Benefit” belongs to Yin. However, this is only a way of speaking that distinguishes being and non-being. Pushed to the utmost, non-being is never separate from being; being is itself true non-being. Only neither being nor non-being is true wondrous being.

Chapter Twelve: The Five Colors

“The five colors make the eyes blind”: The five colors (blue-green, yellow, red, white, black, and other diverse hues) dazzle the eyes, so that vision is impaired.

Heshang Gong says: Indulging in licentious pleasures and boundless lust for beauty damages Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) and causes loss of eyesight.

“The five tones make the ears deaf”: The five tones (gong, shang, jue, zhi, yu, and other musical notes) cause the ears and eyes to become infatuated.

Heshang Gong says: Taking pleasure in listening to the five tones causes the harmonious Qi to leave the heart-spirit (Shen), so that one cannot hear the “soundless sound,” that is, the silent sound of the great Dao that transcends sound.

“The five flavors make the mouth go astray”: This sentence continues the preceding ones; it means that an excess of the five flavors (sour, sweet, bitter, pungent, salty) spoils the palate and causes loss of normal taste.

Emperor Ming (Tang Xuanzong) comments: The eyes greedily gaze at the splendid sights of the Five Colors—blue, yellow, and the rest; the ears are captivated by the pleasing melodies of the Five Tones—gong, zhi, and the rest; the mouth greedily consumes the fine flavors of beef, mutton, pork, and dog. If these enjoyments are excessive, they make the body’s senses deaf and blind.

Heshang Gong comments: “Shuang” means loss. If a person is addicted to the Five Flavors, the mouth loses its normal capacity to distinguish flavors; this means losing the taste of Dao.

Wang Pang (son of Wang Anshi of the Northern Song) comments: People are originally pure and still. The eyes are drawn along by external things, and the ears are driven by sounds. The nature of Dao is originally “Xiyi” (the empty, still realm that is invisible to sight and inaudible to hearing), but when sounds and colors are set before one, the true nature is deluded by the false. The desire for flavors is the same. Therefore, those who cannot realize the subtle principle within sound, color, and flavor merely become addicted to sound, color, and flavor themselves.

Galloping and Hunting in the Fields Make the Mind Go Mad

Emperor Ming comments: Indulging in rushing about through worldly affairs and clinging to purposeful action is like those who hunt in the fields: they seek only to capture birds and beasts, their minds contending daily, chasing external circumstances and running without rest. Thinking quietly, this is the affliction of going mad.

Heshang Gong comments: The human spirit naturally loves quietude. If one gallops about and rushes around, breathing rapidly, the spirit scatters and is lost, and so one goes mad.

Bi (possibly Wang Bi, a Wei metaphysician of the Three Kingdoms) comments: “Shuang” means deviation and loss. The mouth loses its normal function, and so it is called “shuangshi” (loss and error). The ears, eyes, mind, and mouth should all follow their original nature. If they do not comply with natural nature but instead injure the innate nature, then one speaks of blindness, deafness, shuang, and madness.

Wang Pang comments: When the inner mind is sufficient, one gains something; when one pursues things outwardly, one becomes deluded. Thus galloping and hunting stir the blood and Qi, and the mind goes mad; this shows that chasing external things causes one to lose one’s original nature.

Goods Hard to Obtain Hinder One’s Conduct

This is the last line of Chapter 12 of the Laozi. It means that rare and hard-to-obtain goods harm people’s conduct and corrupt their original De (Virtue/Power).

The five colors make the eyes blurred and dazzled; the five tones make the ears deaf; the five flavors blunt the palate. Galloping and hunting make the mind wild; rare goods bring harm to one’s conduct.

What is not part of a person’s original nature cannot be obtained even by forceful seeking. To deludedly pursue things that are difficult to obtain obstructs the movement of the great Dao. Heshang Gong’s commentary explains: “Fang” means harm. “Hard-to-obtain goods” refers to possessions such as gold, silver, pearls, and jade. If people are greedy in their hearts, their desires are endless, and they do not know contentment, they will harm their bodies and bring disgrace upon themselves. Wang Bi says that rare goods block a person’s proper path, and so they obstruct a person’s conduct. Wang Pang says that if the desire for rare goods is not satisfied, it will harm the body and disgrace the self. He also says that rare goods are not originally meant to nourish the self, yet foolish people mistakenly regard them as treasures and therefore damage their virtue in pursuit of them. Only when one understands what is truly valuable in the world and the principle of “being rich in the myriad things” can external things no longer harm one.

Therefore, what the sage values is the belly—nurturing what is within and being content with basic needs—and not acting for the eyes—chasing external sounds and colors.

Heshang Gong says: Guard the five constant virtues—benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness; remove the six emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, happiness, love, and hatred; restrain the will and vital energy; and nourish the spirit. The eyes should not look recklessly, for reckless looking causes emotions and desires to leak outward. Therefore one discards outward reckless seeing and chooses inner cultivation. Tang Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Li Longji) says: Take the belly that contains and receives the myriad things; discard the eyes that look recklessly. Wang Bi says: One who values the belly uses external things to nourish himself; one who values the eyes is enslaved by external things. Therefore the sage does not act for the eyes. Wang Pang says: There is nothing the belly does not contain; the eyes can only distinguish the categories of things.

Chapter 13: Favor and Disgrace

Both receiving favor and suffering disgrace cause alarm, because the heart has not yet forgotten favor and disgrace. Tang Minghuang says: When one grasps it, one trembles; when one loses it, one grieves. Because one has not forgotten favor and disgrace, both cause alarm. Heshang Gong says: One is alarmed when favored and alarmed when disgraced. Wang Pang says: If in one’s heart one takes receiving favor as glory, then what disgrace could be more severe than that?

“To regard great calamity as one’s own self”: Tang Minghuang says that the human body is the root of calamity; therefore one should cherish the self as one would treat a great calamity—this is equivalent to regarding the body as a great calamity.

This commentary explains the meaning of “favor and disgrace are like being startled” in the Daodejing. The commentator holds that human fear arises from attachment to oneself and to gain and loss, and that favor is the very root of disgrace.

Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, who once wrote a commentary on the Daodejing) says that people value themselves because the body is the root from which selfish thoughts grow. Once one clings to valuing the body, one is burdened by the body, as if treating a great calamity as a treasure. When the scripture says “to value one’s body as one values a great calamity,” and also says “to value a great calamity as one’s body,” it means to show that as soon as the mind clings to “valuing the body,” this itself is the beginning of selfish thought. Heshang Gong (an early commentator on the Daodejing) explains “value” as “fear”: when calamity comes upon the body, people naturally feel fear. Wang Pang (a Northern Song scholar) says that when the mind values something and is thereby entangled, the calamity becomes great.

There follows a question-and-answer by the author himself. Heshang Gong says that “favor” is honor and “disgrace” is shame; the author asks himself in order to make the reader understand. Wang Pang holds that the two characters “like being startled” are superfluous in some editions and should not be there. His reason is: since favor is what the world honors, why call it disgrace? This is a rhetorical question used to lead into what follows.

Regarding “favor is low,” Minghuang says: the preceding text says “favor and disgrace are like being startled,” and fearing that readers will not understand, it asks, “What is favor and disgrace?” Those who obtain favor often become proud and self-satisfied, and there are none who do not bring disaster upon themselves; thus favor is the root of disgrace, and so it is said that “favor is low.” Heshang Gong says that “disgrace” means lowliness. Li Xiu (a commentator) says that to be favored by others is a way of occupying a lower position. Zhao Meng (a powerful minister of Jin in the Spring and Autumn period; here used generically for a person of power) can cause people to be treated with contempt, because the authority lies in another’s hands.

The commentator further says that every person originally possesses a true nature (zhenjun, the “True Lord”) sufficient to transcend the world, and an original mind (zhenzai, the “True Master”) sufficient to govern the myriad things; but foolish people lose this innate preciousness and pursue external things in search of glory, while the great power over honor and disgrace, advancement and retreat, lies in the hands of others. Our sorrow and joy depend on gain and loss—is this not both deluded and premature? Fear arises from having something one loves and fearing its loss, and so the entanglement of favor makes people frightened. As for someone like Lingyin Ziwen, who was appointed to office three times and dismissed three times without any trace of joy or anger, surely he was originally not frightened by gain and loss.

Finally the commentator asks rhetorically: who receives favor without considering it an honor? If one can rest content in favor and not regard it as disgrace, then favor no longer counts as disgrace.

The scripture’s words “to get it is like being startled” mean that receiving favor is like being frightened, because those who receive favor worry about gain and loss, and their minds are never at ease.

Heshang Gong’s commentary says: Even when one receives favor and enjoys honor, one still harbors fear, as though occupying a high place while facing dangerous ground. Thus, though honored, one does not dare become arrogant or extravagant.

When losing favor, one is likewise fearful. “Loss” means losing favor and falling into disgrace; “fear” means worrying that calamity will follow close behind.

Another passage of commentary says: If someone receives favor but does not regard it as glory, then while in favor they will not turn it into disgrace. When gaining favor, one is as cautious as if startled.

Tang Xuanzong (Minghuang, Li Longji) comments: Favor and disgrace cycle into one another; favor is precisely the root of disgrace. Worldly people are deluded by desires and cling inflexibly. When disgraced they are of course fearful, but when favored they do not know to be alert. Therefore the sage warns: when you receive favor, you should be as fearful as when disgraced. In this way, even if you lose favor and suffer disgrace, you can remain vigilant as I have warned. Hence the conclusion: “This is called being startled by favor and disgrace.”

Wang Bi’s commentary says: Where there is favor, there must be disgrace; where there is glory, there must be trouble. If one applies the mind of fear equally to glory and disgrace, then calamity is the same. If those in lower positions can regard gaining favor, suffering disgrace, glory, and trouble as equally worthy of caution, they will not disrupt the world.

There is also a commentary by Wen that says: It is precisely because the mind harbors fear at the moment of gain and loss that one suffers disgrace.

The final sentence, “What is meant by valuing great calamity as one’s own body?” is a question, meaning: Why is it said that one should regard great calamity as one regards one’s own body? This line comes from Chapter 13 of the Daodejing, and what follows is the answer to it. Laozi holds that the reason people have great calamity is that they have this body; once one can transcend attachment to one’s own gain and loss, great calamity can no longer harm one.

Commentary on the scripture passage: “Favor and glory are like a shock; valuing great calamity as one’s own body.”

Wang Bi says that “great calamity” refers to things like glory, splendor, and favor. If in the way of preserving life one indulges and favors oneself too much, one easily falls into the place of death; therefore it is called great calamity. People become immersed in glory and favor, yet they must look back to their own persons to understand that these things, like the body itself, bring calamity. The commentator Xiu holds that for one who occupies a high position and holds the state in his grasp, if he clings to this and cannot let it go, the calamity is even greater. It is like having a body: if one cherishes it excessively and is burdened by it, cold and heat, illness and pain follow one after another—is this not a great calamity? Shinanzi, a figure in the “Shanmu” chapter of the Zhuangzi, says that Yao did not regard other people as his own possession, nor was he controlled by others. The honored have something they possess; the favored are relied upon by others; only the sage can avoid these two calamities.

Scripture passage: “The reason I have great calamity is that I have a body.”

Tang Xuanzong, that is, Minghuang, says that the body is fundamentally illusory and has no reality. The reason people take it as the source of calamity is that they cling to the belief that it truly exists, and so they are troubled by cold and warmth, pain and itching. Heshang Gong says that worrying over the body’s toil and hardship, fretting about hunger and cold, and letting oneself be drawn along by passions and desires will invite calamity. Wang Bi directly points out that calamity arises precisely because there is this body.

Scripture passage: “When I have no body, what calamity could I have?”

Wang Bi says this is the state of returning to naturalness. If one can forget this body and transcend the entanglements of physical form, then naturally there is no calamity to speak of.

Minghuang (Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Li Longji; here used as the commentator’s signature) says: If one can understand that the movements of heaven and earth are not something I can possess, leave behind the physical form, forget the calculating mind, know that one’s own person is not the true “I,” and become thoroughly unified with the great Dao—what misfortune could there still be?

Heshang Gong (Han dynasty Daoist commentator) says: If there were no body, one would naturally attain the Dao, ascend lightly and fly aloft, pass in and out without obstruction, communicate with the Dao, and unite with spiritual brightness—what then would need to be stopped?

Wang Pang (Northern Song figure, son of Wang Anshi, author of the Daode Zhenjing Zhu) says: When the ten thousand things and I form one body, one becomes mysteriously identical with the great Dao; all transformations are forgotten, and thoughts of good and ill fortune disappear. Yet the foolish cannot awaken to this for themselves; clinging to the bodily form as themselves, whatever the body encounters along the way gives rise to trouble. Laozi first explains the entanglements brought by favor and honor, and since these entanglements all arise because there is a body, he compares treasuring honor to treasuring one’s person and then brings out the profound principle of “no body.” Zhuangzi says: “To forget what should be forgotten and not forget what should not be forgotten—this is called true forgetting.” This says the same thing. Confucius’s principle of “no self” is the same; the ultimate destination of learning probably lies here. But does “nothing” mean casting it away and departing? It is merely possessing it as if not possessing it, and then one will not be entangled. Among lofty things none is greater than wealth and honor; if one can possess wealth and honor with a mind of “non-possession,” then the sage’s work of succoring the world will never cease. One should treat glory and favor in just this way.

Therefore, only one who governs the world by treating his person as precious can have the world entrusted to him.

Heshang Gong says: If a ruler values his own person but makes light of the people, wishing to be master of the world, then a regime may be established but cannot last long.

Wang Bi (Three Kingdoms Wei metaphysician) says: No external thing can be traded for his body; therefore he is called “precious,” and only such a person can be entrusted with the world.

Therefore, only one who cherishes his own person and regards his person as the world can have the world entrusted to him.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (Minghuang) says: This chapter opens with the warning about “favor and disgrace” and closes with “entrusting and lodging.” “Favor and disgrace are like a shock” means that if people have not yet forgotten their concern for honor and disgrace, their minds and spirits will be stirred by receiving favor and suffering disgrace. If they still care about “honoring” and “cherishing,” they will compare disgrace with favor and think disgrace inferior to favor, and they will compare honor with cherishing and think honor inferior to cherishing. Those who still feel shock at favor and disgrace still have a mind of gain and loss; those who harbor honor and cherishing have not yet achieved forgetting the world altogether. Therefore, at the beginning he first makes people see receiving favor as something as shocking as suffering disgrace, and at the end he hopes that favor and disgrace will both be forgotten, using the phrase “entrusting and lodging the world,” which approximates a matter of title, to explain the highest state of forgetting both. Once favor and disgrace are forgotten, there is nothing to fear; once the self is forgotten, no disaster is brought on by the body; once the world is forgotten, there are no longer entanglements of title such as “entrusting and lodging.”

Heshang Gong says: This means that a ruler can cherish his own person not for his own sake but in order to be father and mother to the myriad people. Only one who becomes lord of the world in this way can entrust his person above the myriad people and for long be without fault.

Wang Bi says: No external thing can injure his person, and therefore it says he “cherishes” his person. Only such a person can have the world entrusted to him—that is, he does not damage or lightly exchange his person for favor, disgrace, honor, or profit; only then can the world be transmitted to him.

Wang Pang (son of Wang Anshi of the Northern Song) says: The sage has no person, so merely imitating Yao and Shun is enough to govern the world; if one has a person and acts, one will be burdened. If one has not yet reached the state of having no person, one should respect life and value the root, and not exchange oneself for external things. One who can be entrusted with the world is precisely one who honors without disgracing his person and cherishes without harming his person. Zizhou Zhifu (a recluse in the Zhuangzi who would not let the world burden him) and Wang Zisou (a recluse likewise from the Zhuangzi) were such people. Were these two men burdened by favor and honor or constrained by nobility?

Another version has “can be entrusted with the world” and “can be lodged with the world.” Here Wang Bi uses the Nanhua Zhenjing (that is, the Zhuangzi) as the basis for settling the text, and this is incorrect.

Summary of the Original Text

This chapter says that the Dao (the Way) is invisible because it has no color, and so it is called Yi (level and easy, with no discernible form). The Dao cannot be heard because it has no sound, and so it is called Xi (faint and subtle, barely audible). The Dao cannot be touched because it has no bodily form, and so it is called Wei (refined and subtle, impossible to grasp).

Key Points of the Commentary

Tang Xuanzong (Minghuang) held that the Dao is without color, without sound, and without form, yet within that absence of color, sound, and form it can manifest color, harmony, and form; therefore it is respectively called Yi, Xi, and Wei. He also said that the Dao reaches the realm in which all things are equal, with no distinction of high and low, and it is not something the eyes can see.

Wang Pang (a Song dynasty figure) said that the myriad things produce sound only when they stimulate one another, whereas the great Dao does not connect with the myriad things; when one seeks it with the mind, it has already gone far away, and so it is called Xi. This is what the Jing (scripture/classic) means by the “Great Sound.”

Another commentator said that Yi, Xi, and Wei are all descriptions of the Dao, and that the Dao is without color, without sound, and without form; the mouth cannot speak it, writing cannot transmit it, and it can only be received with a still mind and sought with the spirit—it cannot be obtained through questioning.

Conclusion of the Scriptural Text

The three—Yi, Xi, and Wei—cannot be further questioned or distinguished, so they can only be brought together and regarded as the same Dao.

The gist of the scripture: Laozi’s “looked at but not seen, listened to but not heard, grasped at but not obtained”—these three states, which the senses cannot grasp, are used to describe the Dao. The Dao is not sound, color, form, phenomena, or any other perceptible thing; therefore it cannot be precisely interrogated or defined, and one can only tentatively call it “Xi, Yi, Wei” (the inaudible, the invisible, the subtle). These three cannot be distinguished, and so they blend into one.

Minghuang (Tang Xuanzong, Li Longji) says: The Dao is not something that can be perceived, so it cannot be precisely pointed to; one can only say that it is “Xi, Yi, Wei.” Since the Dao cannot be divided into three, it is also said to be blended into one.

Heshang Gong (the Han-dynasty Daoist scholar who annotated Laozi) says: Hun means merging. When the three are joined together, it is called “one.”

Wang Bi (a Xuanxue scholar of Wei in the Three Kingdoms period and author of the Laozi Zhu) says: The Dao has no shape and no sound, so there is nowhere it does not penetrate and nowhere it does not reach. People cannot know it with their ears and eyes; therefore they cannot precisely designate it with words, and can only say that it blends into one.

Wang Pang (a Northern Song scholar and son of Wang Anshi) says: These three are originally one and the same thing. People either look with the eyes, listen with the ears, or touch with the hands, and so they give it different names according to these different modes. But the mode of seeking and the object sought are essentially no different. As long as one understands the “one” within the mind, one can become wholly one with that “one.”

“What is above it is not bright; what is below it is not dark”: Heshang Gong holds that the “one” above in heaven does not appear bright and dazzling, nor below in the world is it dim and unclear.

Minghuang says: Ordinarily what is above is bright and what is below is dark, but the Dao, though above, is not regarded as “above,” and so above it is not bright; though below, it is not regarded as “below,” and so below it is not dark.

Xiu (a commentator whose life details are unknown) says: All things that have form and substance possess Yin-Yang; brightness above and darkness below is the natural principle. Only the Dao is without form and substance, and so it is wholly natural and heavenly. This is precisely the intrinsic characteristic of the Dao’s own substance. The Zhuangzi also says: One who has lost the Dao, looking upward, is dazzled by the light; looking downward, turns into dust.

“Continuous, continuous—it cannot be named; it returns again to no-thing”: Heshang Gong explains that “shengsheng” means moving ceaselessly and inexhaustibly. “It cannot be named” means that the Dao is not a single color and cannot be distinguished by blue, yellow, white, and black; it is not a single sound and cannot be discerned by gong, shang, jue, zhi, and yu; it is not a single form and cannot be measured by long and short, large and small. The scripture finally says that the Dao ultimately returns once again to a formless and image-less state.

Emperor Ming of Tang (that is, Xuanzong Li Longji, who once composed a commentary on the Daodejing) says: “Sheng sheng” describes movement that continues without interruption. “Not bright and not dark” means that the Dao neither reveals a dazzling brightness nor remains obscure and indistinct. Its movement never ceases, and it transforms and nurtures the forms of the ten thousand things; this operation cannot be measured in terms of long and short, great and small.

Returning again to no-thing: the ten thousand things ultimately return to a state without form or image, which is the substance of the Dao itself.

Emperor Ming of Tang says: “Sheng sheng” describes movement that continues without interruption. “Not bright and not dark” means that the Dao’s movement is never exhausted; what it produces is the function of transforming and nurturing the ten thousand things.