《庄子注》Vol. 3

Interpretation

If one does not cling to outward reputation and the forms of ritual, one can discern what is true within. Hold fast to the root, and the branches and leaves will grow naturally. Simply act in keeping with genuine feeling. If one prizes reputation above all and is constrained by ritual rules, filial devotion and parental care can no longer come from the heart; father, son, brothers, and younger brothers will deceive one another with false affection. Can that be what ritual is meant for?

When Zigong returned, he told Confucius, “Who was that man? He pays no heed to the rules of self-cultivation or to his appearance. He sang in the presence of a corpse without the slightest change of expression. I don’t know what to call him. Who is he?”

Confucius said, “He wanders beyond worldly conventions, while I remain within their bounds. The inner and outer do not originally communicate, yet I sent you to offer him condolences. That was narrow-minded of me. He keeps company with the Creator—the natural power that brings all things into being and transforms them—and wanders in the primal Qi shared by Heaven and Earth. To him, life is like an extra lump of flesh on the body, and death like a boil bursting. Since that is so, why would he care which comes first, life or death? He relies on a body formed through transformation and entrusts himself to the nature shared by all things. He forgets his liver and gallbladder and does not cling to his ears and eyes. Transformation comes and goes without any fixed beginning or end. He wanders at ease beyond the dusty world and rests in the Way of Wuwei (non-action). Why would he be bound by worldly rites, deliberately putting on a show for others?”

Zigong asked, “Then what do you follow, Master?”

Confucius said, “The Way has an ultimate point at which the worldly inner and outer can finally communicate. One who truly transcends worldly conventions can accord with the inner Way; one who truly accords with the inner Way can also live freely in the world. Thus the sage often stands beyond worldly opinions while remaining in communication with what is true within. He holds no fixed views and responds to all things. So even when he appears in the world all day long, his spirit does not change; even while handling all kinds of affairs, he remains calm and untroubled.

“To see only outward form and not the spirit within is a common limitation among people. When you see him moving alongside all things, you cannot say that he has abandoned worldly affairs and withdrawn from human society. When you see him responding to change and handling affairs, you cannot say that he merely sits in stillness, forgets himself, and finds contentment alone. Zhuangzi makes this point through Confucius: the sage can live in the world without being bound by its conventions, and can transcend the world without being cut off from other people. Do not cling to the characters’ outward identities in the story; grasp its central idea, ‘to stand beyond the outer world while remaining in accord with what is true within.’”

Offering condolences is a rite of worldly society. To impose this rite on someone who transcends worldly conventions is narrow-minded.

Because inner and outer communicate, they are not two realms divided from one another.

A skin growth is like something hanging from one’s body. It is formed temporarily when primal Qi gathers, and is not worth longing to keep.

When a boil bursts, primal Qi disperses of its own accord; there is no need to grieve.

Life and death alternate and transform without end. Move along with transformation, and there is nowhere one cannot face with equanimity; one can no longer tell which prevails, life or death.

“To rely on” means to follow. Life and death, gathering and dispersal, change unpredictably into different forms. Though the forms differ, they all depend on the same whole.

If one does not cling even to one’s own five organs, what is there worth remembering in particular? Only by refusing to hold fast to knowledge and judgment can one let oneself move with change, accord with the transformations that come and go among all things, and avoid clinging to any endpoint.

Follow the Way and move together with transformation.

The “work of Wuwei” does not mean doing nothing and sitting silently in stillness. Nor does being “beyond the dust” mean hiding away in the mountains. The outward actions a person shows to others are only the appearances of the world; they do not amount to the transcendent state within.

Zigong had never heard Confucius speak of human nature, life, and the Way of Heaven. He saw only what Confucius followed, not why he followed it. To truly follow is to avoid deliberately clinging to any particular way of following; people find this difficult to understand.

Confucius said, “I am merely someone punished by Heaven’s decree and confined to the world. Even so, I share this with you.”

To regard worldly life as confinement shows that one truly values the transcendent Way. Yet those who transcend the world still depend on it for their lives, and those who have let go of attachment can still take part in everyday life. Thus one who truly governs the world does not claim it as his own. Only by first letting go of attachment to external things can one enter among people; only by first forgetting the rigid self can one deal with affairs. The more one lets go, the more one can respond to all things. When one reaches this state, even if one wishes to escape worldly affairs, the principles of all things will naturally become clear. This is a state of following the Way of Heaven and remaining in accord with human affairs.

Zigong asked, “May I ask how to reach this state?”

Confucius said, “Although worldly conventions bind me, I am willing to bear them with you. This shows that my heart remains free and has not been completely trapped by the world.”

Confucius said, “Fish depend on water for life, and people depend on the Way. Fish live by depending on water, so one digs ponds and stores water to nourish them. People live by following the Way, so one does not interfere recklessly, and life settles naturally. Thus fish forget one another in rivers, lakes, and seas; people, in the Way of human life, forget deliberate striving.”

Zigong asked, “What is a ‘deviant person’—someone who does not conform to worldly norms?”

Confucius said, “A deviant person seems different from other people, yet is in accord with nature. Thus a person who accords with nature may look like a petty person to the world; a gentleman in the eyes of the world may, from nature’s perspective, have lost what is true in himself.”

Each thing being content with itself and forgetting the others is the ordinary state of all things under Heaven. The Perfected Person is always self-sufficient, and so forgets comparison and competition.

Zigong pressed him: What was the state meant by the earlier words about transcending the world and not conforming to worldly life?

To accord with what is true within is to live freely beyond the world. One who can do this while remaining in accord with what is true within lets all things develop according to their own nature and find fulfillment in their inborn qualities; the way of governing the world is then complete. This is what it means to seem at odds with worldly convention yet accord with nature.

From the perspective of nature, there is no ranking between people and other things. From the perspective of worldly ethics, one who accords with nature may be called a gentleman.

Yan Hui asked Confucius, “When Mengsun Cai’s mother died, he cried without tears and felt no sorrow within; while in mourning, he showed no grief. Though he displayed none of these three signs, he became renowned in Lu for being good at conducting funerals. Can someone lack real virtue and still gain such a reputation? I find it very strange.”

The people of Lu looked only at how he observed the funeral rites; Yan Hui paid attention to his heart.

Confucius said, “Mengsun Cai has already grasped the principle of life and death, and his insight has advanced further. He simply has not yet let go of his habit of distinguishing the rites of mourning; even so, he has already let go of something. He does not know why he was born, or what will happen after death. He does not know which state comes first and which comes later. He simply follows the transformations of life as he becomes different things, and awaits changes he cannot foresee. Since he is now in the midst of transformation, how can he know that the future will not bring more change? And if change ceases in the future, how can he know that it will then have truly ceased?

“You and I are probably still dreaming and have not yet awakened. Although Mengsun Cai’s body has undergone a change, his heart has not been harmed; life is like a dwelling that changes every day, and his spirit has not been exhausted by it. He simply goes along with what happens: when others cry, he cries too, because that is the fitting response at the time. Besides, is the ‘I’ we speak of necessarily a fixed, unchanging self? You have dreamed of becoming a bird and flying into the sky, and of becoming a fish and sinking into the depths. So is the you who speaks now awake, or still dreaming?

“Respond to the circumstances you encounter, and you will not miss the fitting response; genuine laughter is not contrived either. Entrust yourself to nature’s unfolding and move with transformation, and you can enter a vast, still realm and become one with Heaven and Earth.”

One who understands the principle of life and death and can live appropriately within and beyond the world acts in accord with nature; this is something that knowledge and distinctions alone cannot achieve.

He does not choose one state over the other, life over death, yet knows that their differences need not be clung to, just as spring, summer, autumn, and winter proceed in turn.

He cannot prefer life to death or death to life, so he accepts whatever comes with equanimity. He does not carry life and death as a burden in his heart, but lets transformation unfold naturally.

Be at peace with whatever comes.

Do not resist transformation.

Life and death alternate and transform, so he does not cling to what he knows now or worry in advance about what is unknown.

Since one is born through transformation, one cannot know what came before birth; and before one has changed through death, one cannot know what comes after it. There is therefore nothing one must flee or pursue; one need only move along with transformation.

Life and death are like waking and dreaming. In a dream, one may believe oneself awake, but that does not prove that waking life is not a dream. Since one cannot establish the boundary between waking and dreaming, one cannot determine the boundary between life and death either. Whatever circumstances one is in, be at ease with them. Why be here and worry about somewhere else?

The transformation of the body is merely a disturbance of outward form; it should not be allowed to injure the heart through life and death.

The body changes continually, like a dwelling exchanged each day; the heart does not regard this change as true death.

One who truly understands never resists nature, whatever he encounters. So when others cry, he cries with them: it is a fitting response to the moment.

The changes of life and death are changes experienced by the self. If they can all be regarded as part of the self, what has been lost? If nothing has truly been lost, what is there to grieve? He does not resist nature, so he cries when others cry; his heart is free of sorrow, so he cries without grief.

No change is entirely unrelated to him. Thus he can make inner and outer communicate, link past and present, and renew himself each day alongside all things. Why cling to the question of where the “I” truly is?

That is to say, one can find contentment in any circumstances.

If one believes oneself awake in a dream, how can one be certain that the present is not a dream? Since change between waking and dreaming is nothing to resist, neither is there anything in the transformations of life and death worth clinging to or mourning.

When one can accept whatever circumstances arise, one forgets what it is that one is accepting, and so no longer laughs. By ritual, crying should express grief and laughter should express joy. If the heart clings to sorrow or joy, it cannot move with transformation. Mengsun Cai remained at ease with whatever he encountered; he cried without grief and moved forward with change.

To be at ease with transformation and move along with it is to enter a vast, empty stillness and become one with Heaven. The people mentioned earlier all understood the same principle; they simply responded to funerals differently, so some sang while others wept.

Yizi went to see Xu You. Xu You asked, “What help did Yao give you?”

“Help” here means provision or assistance.

Yizi said, “Yao told me that I must put benevolence and righteousness into practice myself and clearly explain right and wrong.”

Xu You said, “Why have you come here? Yao has branded you with benevolence and righteousness, and cut off your nose with right and wrong. How can you still wander freely, unbound, along the Way that moves with transformation?”

This means that Yizi has been constrained by teachings about benevolence, righteousness, and right and wrong, and has already been injured by them. It will be difficult for him to enter a realm of freedom without obstruction.

Yizi said, “Even so, I hope I can wander at least along its edges.”

He no longer dared to ask to enter directly; he only hoped to travel along the outskirts.

Xu You said, “It cannot be so. A blind person cannot appreciate the beauty of eyebrows and eyes; one who has lost sight cannot see the beauty of colors and patterns.”

Yizi said, “Wuzhuang lost his beauty, Juliang lost his strength, and the Yellow Emperor lost his wisdom. These seem like changes brought about through the refining furnace. How do you know the Creator will not remove the brand on my body, restore my severed nose, and make me whole again, so that I can follow you and learn?”

This means that all things do not necessarily take their natural form at once; sometimes the principles of nature are tempered before they give rise to a new form. The stories of Wuzhuang, Juliang, and the Yellow Emperor are used to show that after hearing the Great Way, a person may forget the things to which he was once attached. These stories aim to free people from attachment to deliberate action.

To act according to one’s nature is natural; if one’s actions injure that nature, correcting them later may also be part of nature. How do I know that my natural Way will not remove this injury, repair this loss, and let me follow you along a path that can fulfill me? If you shut me out and refuse to teach me, that too may go against the Creator’s natural Way.

Xu You said, “Ah, that remains to be seen. Let me tell you the gist of it: My teacher, my teacher! He smooths out all things without claiming benevolence or righteousness. His grace reaches across all generations, yet he does not claim to be loving. He endures from time immemorial, yet does not concern himself with age. He covers and supports Heaven and Earth and shapes the forms of all things, yet does not claim skill. This is the realm in which I wander!”

All things change naturally of themselves. No one deliberately bestows grace, so there is no question of benevolence or righteousness.

They renew and transform without end.

Because all things arise naturally, they are not deliberately sculpted.

Take Wuwei as one’s teacher, and wander in a realm without fixed teachings.

Yan Hui said, “I have made progress.”

He regarded having fewer attachments as progress.

Confucius asked, “Where have you made progress?” Yan Hui said, “I have forgotten ritual and music.” Confucius said, “That is good, but not enough.”

Benevolence is the expression of broad care, and righteousness is the achievement of bringing things to completion. Simply remembering benevolence and righteousness is not enough to understand how care and achievement can arise without intention. One may forget the names of benevolence and righteousness, but merely forgetting their expressions and accomplishments does not amount to complete understanding.

Some days later, Yan Hui came to see Confucius again and said, “I have made further progress.”

Confucius asked, “Where have you made progress?” Yan Hui said, “I have forgotten benevolence and righteousness.” Confucius said, “That is good, but not enough.”

Ritual governs the body’s conduct; music helps people live together in harmony. Forgetting these means of conduct is less than forgetting the distinctions that make them necessary.

Some days later, Yan Hui said, “I have made further progress!” Confucius asked, “Where have you made progress?” Yan Hui said, “I can sit in forgetfulness.” Confucius asked solemnly, “What does it mean to sit in forgetfulness?” Yan Hui said, “I forget the distinctions of the body, set aside the acuity of ears and eyes, leave behind attachment to form, abandon clever knowledge, and unite with the Great Way that reaches through all things. This is what I mean by sitting in forgetfulness.”

When all things communicate with oneself, nothing is out of place; when one is at ease everywhere, what is there to like or dislike in particular?

Confucius said, “When you communicate with all things, you no longer favor anything; when you move with all things as they change, you no longer cling to any fixed state. You truly are a worthy person! I too would like to follow you and communicate with the Great Way.”

To become one with change is to respond only to the circumstances change brings; one therefore has no fixed form.

Ziyu and Zisang were friends. It rained for ten days straight, and Ziyu worried that Zisang might have fallen ill. He wrapped up some food and went to see him. At Zisang’s door, he heard him playing the zither and singing as though caught between song and sobbing: “Was it my father who made me this way? My mother? Heaven? Or other people?” His voice seemed unable to bear the strain, and his words sounded rushed. Ziyu went in and asked, “Why are you singing like this?”

The two men helped each other without deliberately setting out to show kindness. Ziyu brought food to his friend simply because it came naturally and was fitting; he was not trying to display his affection or righteousness.

Ziyu felt that Zisang’s song showed him being led by emotion and departing from the natural Way.

Zisang said, “I was wondering what could have brought me to this state, but I can’t find an answer. Would my parents want me to be poor? Heaven covers all things, and Earth supports them all; would Heaven and Earth single me out and make me poor? I can’t find who brought this about. But I really have ended up in this predicament. Perhaps that is simply fate!”

All things arise naturally; there is no master who deliberately arranges everything.

Zhuangzi, Inner Chapters, Chapter Seven: “Responding to Emperors and Kings”

Nie Que sought counsel from Wang Ni, asking him four times. Each time, Wang Ni said he did not know. Nie Que heard this and was delighted, jumping up to tell Puyi. Puyi said, “Do you understand only now? You Shun could not match the Supreme Ancestor, an ancient sage. You Shun kept benevolence in his heart and used it to win people’s support. Though he won their support, he did not transcend the realm of making distinctions between people. The Supreme Ancestor, by contrast, slept at ease and awoke in freedom. Sometimes he thought of himself as a horse, sometimes as an ox. His understanding was true and trustworthy, and his virtue pure; he never fell into distinctions that exclude others.”

To respond to change without intention is the proper state for an emperor or king who governs the world.

The differences between You Shun and the Supreme Ancestor are only outward forms of conduct, not what lies behind them. The root leaves no trace; how, then, can people name it? If it has never been named, how can there be rankings or winners and losers? Yet the traceless Way responds to the transformations of all things and endures through long generations. The affairs of the world meet both favorable and unfavorable conditions, so their particular expressions differ.

To call those one likes “right” and those one dislikes “wrong” is still to be constrained by distinctions between right and wrong. One who transcends such distinctions enters a realm where there is no such thing as “wrong.” He does not settle matters in terms of gain and loss or what is acceptable and unacceptable, and so does not use benevolence to win people’s support.

Once one reaches this state, what distinction remains between “right” and “wrong”? This is what it means to be free of distinctions that exclude others.

Let what one truly knows come through of its own accord; this is sincerity.

Follow one’s nature and receive what comes; this is freedom from pretense.

One who does not enter the realm of right and wrong is no longer confined by the way You Shun governed.

Shangwu met Kuang Jieyu. Kuang Jieyu asked, “What did Rizhongshi tell you?” Shangwu replied, “He told me that a ruler must personally establish laws, standards, and principles. Who would dare not submit and accept instruction?” Kuang Jieyu said, “That is using virtue to deceive people. Governing the world this way is like trying to cross the sea on foot, cutting a channel through a river, and making mosquitoes carry mountains. Does a sage govern the world by personally managing everything? It is enough for him to set himself aright and let those capable of a task do it. A bird flies high to escape an arrow; a shrew burrows deep beneath a shrine to escape smoke and digging. Are you less capable than even these two little creatures?”

Using one’s own will to control all things makes them lose their nature.

Leave things to each thing to do for itself, and they will be completed naturally, without interference. Try to direct the world by one’s own strength, and the task will be difficult to accomplish and the responsibility will exceed one’s capacity.

It is enough for each thing to preserve its inborn nature and remain within its own limits.

Let each thing attain the condition its nature and life make possible.

Do not do what lies beyond one’s ability.

Even animals have their own ways of preserving themselves. A ruler need only let them be and not obstruct them; all things will then develop naturally.

Do you really not know that even these two little creatures can live in their own way without anyone teaching them?

Tiangen was traveling in Yinyang when he reached the banks of the Liao River. By chance, he met an unnamed man and asked, “How should one govern the world?” The nameless man said, “Go away, you shallow fellow! Why ask such a tiresome question? I am about to keep company with the Creator. When I tire of that, I will ride on fine, elusive breaths, fly beyond the four quarters of Heaven and Earth, wander in the realm of nothingness, and rest in the boundless wilderness. Why disturb my heart with talk of governing the world?”

To ask how to govern the world is already to ask from a place far removed from the deep principle that returns to the origin of all things.

Let people follow their own nature and act for themselves.

“Mangmiao” refers to fine, elusive breaths. Riding the subtle changes of all things lets one move freely in and out, without being confined to any fixed place.

If all things are left to find ease in their own nature, without forceful interference, the world will settle naturally.

Tiangen again asked the nameless man, “If one can make the heart indifferent, quiet the breath, follow the natural transformations of all things without private motives, then the world can be governed.”

When one follows one’s nature without embellishment, the heart becomes indifferent.

The heart is quiet and does not seek recklessly.

To live according to one’s nature and follow what comes naturally is impartiality; trying to add interference through private motives is partiality. Self-interest cannot make life grow more fully. Following the impartial principles of nature instead allows all things to preserve themselves.

Yang Ziju visited Lao Dan and said, “There is a person who is quick and strong in action, sees into all things, has a clear mind, and never tires of learning the arts of the Way. Can such a person compare with an enlightened king?” Lao Dan said, “By the standards of a sage, he is no more than a working craftsman, bound by his skills, wearing out his body and stirring up his heart. Tigers and leopards are hunted for their beautiful skins; monkeys are captured for their agility. Can such a person compare with an enlightened king?”

These abilities leave him nowhere to rest and do not make him the equal of a sage king.

He is burdened by outward talents and skills, and cannot meet the transformations of all things with an empty, quiet heart.

Yang Ziju looked uneasy and asked, “May I ask how an enlightened king governs the world?”

Lao Dan said, “An enlightened king governs the world, and his achievements cover it, yet it seems as if he has done nothing. His grace reaches all things, yet the people do not feel dependent on him. He does not claim his achievements as his own; all things are content in themselves. He establishes himself in what cannot be fathomed and wanders in a realm free of attachment.”

Without an enlightened king’s governance, all things under Heaven would find it difficult to settle into their proper places. The enlightened king enables them to find their own ease; this is in fact his achievement. Yet he follows the Way of Wuwei and returns everything to the world, so it seems as if his achievement were not his.

The enlightened king fulfills the nature of all things. Everyone feels that things are simply as they have always been, and does not know that the king has helped them.

Though his achievements cover the world, he does not claim them as his own. All things therefore feel they have gained what they have through their own nature, and rejoice in it.

He lives amid transformation, renewing himself each day without a fixed direction.

He merges with all things, and wherever he wanders is a realm of stillness and freedom. If he cannot communicate with all things, he will already be too busy responding to external things; how could he wander in stillness?

In Zheng, there was a spirit medium named Jixian who could foretell whether people would live or die, prosper or suffer, and how long they would live. He could predict the year, month, and day with uncanny accuracy. Whenever people in Zheng saw him, they avoided him, unwilling to hear the date of their own death. Liezi, however, was deeply impressed by him. He went home and told Huzi, “I used to think your Way had reached its highest point. I never imagined there could be someone more accomplished than you.”

Liezi thought Jixian’s powers surpassed Huzi’s.

Huzi said, “I have taught you only the outward forms of the Way; I have not yet let you grasp its true substance. Have you really attained the Way? If there is only a female and no male, how could there be an egg? You take the Way and set it against the world, seeking to win people’s belief, and that is why someone can read your appearance. Bring him tomorrow and let him look at me.”

Liezi had not yet truly made the Way part of himself.

Without truly understanding the Way, one holds fixed views. Once one clings to a position and tries to make the world believe it, one leaves traces for others to observe.

The next day, Liezi brought Jixian to meet Huzi. After Jixian left, he said to Liezi, “Alas, your master is about to die. He will not live more than a few days. I saw him like wet ashes.” Liezi went inside, weeping so hard that his tears soaked his robe, and told Huzi what Jixian had said. Huzi said, “Just now I showed him the ‘patterns of Earth’: stirred, yet neither moving nor ceasing. He must have seen the state in which I conceal the mechanism of De. Bring him again.”

Huzi appeared still and unadorned, like withered wood showing no sign of life, like wet ashes in their silence. This is the state of a Perfected Person when he is not responding to external things. When in motion, the Perfected Person follows Heaven; when still, he rests like Earth. His action is like flowing water, his stillness like an abyss. These different states all arise naturally and are the same in essence. Jixian saw him still and thought he was near death; when he saw Huzi’s spirit stir and respond naturally, he thought he was full of life. If one does not respond to external things with fixed opinions but lets things accord naturally, rising and falling with transformation and taking the world’s changes as one’s measure, one can become the master of all things and respond to circumstances without end. This is the central idea of “Responding to Emperors and Kings.”

When the mechanism of De does not show itself, it is called “closure.”

The next day, Liezi brought Jixian to see Huzi again. After Jixian left, he said, “Fortunately your master met me. His illness is better now, and he is full of life. I saw that he was concealing his vitality.” Liezi went inside and told Huzi. Huzi said, “Just now I showed him ‘Heaven and Earth’: neither reputation nor reality can enter me, yet vitality rises from my heels. He must have seen the mechanism by which I respond well. Bring him again.”

“Pivot” means mechanism. Jixian thought he had seen Huzi’s vitality, and so said that he was near death.

In “Heaven and Earth,” the functions of covering and supporting all things become apparent. Compared with the patterns of Earth, this reveals more outward change. It is a state of responding to and being moved by things.

Let nature cover and support all things, and the workings of Heaven will respond of their own accord; adornments of fame and profit become unnecessary.

This vitality always arises from the deepest place.

When vitality appeared in Huzi, Jixian saw it.

On the third day, Jixian came to see Huzi again. After he left, he said, “Your master’s state is not fixed; I can’t read him. When his state has settled, I’ll come again.” Liezi went inside and told Huzi. Huzi said, “Just now I showed him ‘the supreme equilibrium, beyond all prevailing’: a realm of emptiness and harmony, with no victory or defeat. He must have seen the mechanism of my balanced breath. A whirlpool where loaches gather, a still pool, and flowing water can all be abysses. There are nine kinds of abyss; I have named only three here. Bring him again.”

In the state of supreme equilibrium, the heart is vast and calm, communicating with all things, and victory or defeat cannot take hold.

He treats everything he encounters as equal, blending it all into one. Seen with limited vision, he is like something with no discernible boundary, and so seems to be changing without any fixed state.

“Abyss” means still and deep. Water has no intention of its own and follows what surrounds it. So whether it flows or is still, whether loaches gather there or a dragon rises, it remains deep and calm. The Perfected Person is the same: he acts when action is needed and rests when it is not. Though action and rest differ, the emptiness and stillness of his heart remain the same. The story names these three differences to make this point. Even when worldly affairs change like waves, one who has reached the furthest point of the Way remains calm and content, without clinging to action.

The next day, Jixian came to see Huzi again. Before he could even steady himself, he panicked and fled. Huzi said, “Quick, go after him!” Liezi chased him but could not catch up. He returned and reported, “He has vanished without a trace. I couldn’t catch him.” Huzi said, “Just now I showed him a state that had not yet departed from the root. When I faced him, I was empty and yielding, unaware of who I was or who he was. So I was like delicate grass bending in the wind, like waves turning with the current. That is why he fled.”

Though change is unpredictable, the root remains hidden in the Way.

Respond to all things as they change, without intention.

Like something floating on the water’s surface, with no fixed attachment.

When change comes, yield softly. As worldly affairs rise and fall like waves, he responds to everything he encounters by going along with it. The Perfected Person seems to have a single nature, yet can act in response to changing affairs. Thus a fortune-teller has no way to judge him and finally flees in terror. This shows that those who respond to the affairs of emperors and kings have no fixed method.

From then on, Liezi felt that he had not truly studied the Way, so he went home and stayed there for three years. He cooked for his wife and fed pigs as if they were people. In handling affairs, he showed no preference for those near or dear. He cast off ornament and returned to simplicity, standing alone and at ease like a clod of earth. He let all things change in confusion while holding fast to their undivided unity.

Forget distinctions of status and rank.

Simply follow what one encounters.

Cast off what is ornate and take what is true.

Outward ornament disappears.

Though he acts, his true nature remains undisturbed.

Let each thing follow nature and complete its own course.

Do not become a master of reputation, a storehouse of schemes, the one responsible for every affair, or an authority on knowledge. Grasp the boundless Way and wander in a realm without traces. Bring forth all that Heaven has endowed you with, but do not show what you have gained; simply remain empty and still. The Perfected Person uses his mind like a mirror: he does not go out to meet things or hold them back; when things come, he responds, and when they leave, he leaves no trace. Thus he can respond to all things without being harmed.

Respond to things, letting each thing fulfill its own place.

Let things make their own plans.

Hand affairs over to all things, and let each bear its own responsibility.

When the mind holds no fixed intentions, all things can use their own wisdom.

Follow the spontaneous actions of all things under Heaven, and one can respond to boundless change.

Let all things develop on their own, and no human-made trace is left behind.

Know when enough is enough.

If one is always thinking of what to gain, one does not know when to stop.

Without emptiness and stillness, one cannot accommodate the many particular things.

Like a mirror, reflect external things without personal feeling.

When things come, respond; when they leave, stop responding.

Reflect external things only when they come, without judging them through fixed opinions. Thus, even when the affairs of the world are numerous, the mind is not worn out by exertion.

The ruler of the South Sea was called Shu, the ruler of the North Sea was called Hu, and the ruler of the Center was called Hundun. Shu and Hu often met in Hundun’s territory, where Hundun treated them very well. Shu and Hu discussed how to repay his kindness. They said, “People all have seven openings, which they use to see, hear, eat, and breathe. He alone has none. Let us try boring him some.” They bored one opening each day, and on the seventh day Hundun died.

Deliberate action can instead destroy the natural nature of all things.

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