《老子想尔注》

In this way, the people will neither contend nor steal. “Do not display things that arouse desire, so that people’s minds remain undisturbed.” […] Do not look at things that stir greed; treat them as if unseen, and do not let the mind be shaken by them. If thoughts do stir, one must promptly alert oneself; otherwise the Dao (the Way) will depart, and the mind will fall into disorder with it.

“The sage governs the world by making the people’s minds clear and their bellies full.” The mind is like a compass and square, containing good fortune and ill fortune, good and evil; the belly is like a bag that holds the Dao, and Qi (vital energy) must always be abundant. When the mind is filled with malice, the Dao departs, and the bag that holds the Dao becomes empty as well. Once empty, deviant Qi enters through the vacancy and harms a person’s life. Remove the malice from the mind, and the Dao returns, and the belly becomes full.

“Weaken their desires and strengthen their sinews and bones.” Aspirations follow the mind and so may be good or evil, while sinews and bones depend on the Qi in the belly. Forcing after improper aspirations leads a person to do evil; when Qi disperses, the sinews and bones wither and weaken. Weaken evil desires, and Qi returns, and the marrow becomes full.

“Always keep the people free of excessive knowledge and desire.” When the Dao no longer prevails, deviant and crooked doctrines flourish, and bribery arises with them. The people vie to covet and study these things, and in the end fall into danger themselves. This should therefore be prohibited: do not let people be misled by deviant doctrines, nor let them covet precious treasures and wealth, and the state will be easy to govern. Those above transforming those below is like the wind bending the grass. To achieve this, those above must first understand and hold faith in the Dao.

“Make even those who have knowledge not dare to refrain from putting it into practice.” When those above have faith in the Dao and do not slacken, even widely learned persons who harbor crooked thoughts will still distinguish right from wrong; seeing those above diligent and untiring, they will not dare not to act accordingly. In this way, there will be nothing under Heaven that cannot be well governed.

“The Dao is empty, yet in use it is never full” means that the Dao (the Way) appears vacant, yet it can go on functioning without ever being exhausted. What the Dao values is balanced harmony. A person should hold to this way of balanced harmony; mind and will must not become overfull, lest one go against the Dao’s admonitions.

“Deep as an abyss, it seems the ancestor of the myriad things” means that the Dao is profound, vast, and subtle, as if it were the source of all things. When a person follows the Dao and does not violate its precepts, the inner mind can become as still and deep as an abyss.

“Blunt its sharpness and dissolve its anger” means that one should restrain the impulse to do wrong, dispel anger, and not let it gather in the heart. One should bind oneself by the precepts of the Dao and encourage oneself with the way of long life; only then does one accord with the proper Dao. Fierce strife and anger are like a tightly drawn string giving off a hurried sound, and they easily cause a person to lose due measure. If anger accumulates over a long time, it slowly injures the body; if anger flares up suddenly, it likewise does harm. Once the five viscera are damaged, the Dao cannot remove anger on a person’s behalf, and so the precepts of the Dao repeatedly urge people to harmonize their emotions.

The five viscera are injured because the Qi (vital energy) of Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth—the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water)—loses its harmony. When the Five Phases are harmonized, they generate one another; when they conflict, they overcome one another. Anger, stirred by events, also affects the corresponding organs. If the Qi of one organ becomes disordered, it may overcome and injure the organ it restrains, bringing on illness and even endangering life. People’s constitutions differ in strength and weakness, and the waxing and waning of the momentum of the Five Phases’ Qi likewise differ: when the internal momentum of Qi is still strong, anger may arise without immediately causing injury; when the constitution is weak, an imbalance of that momentum may give rise to serious harm.

“Soften its light and share its dust” means to settle emotion and temperament so that one is not agitated by joy or anger, allowing the five viscera to harmonize and generate one another, and thus to become one with the radiance of the Dao and with the myriad things of the world. “Limpid, it seems ever present” means that, on reaching this state, one can be clear, still, and deeply settled, and not lose this over the long term.

“I do not know whose child it is; it seems to precede the Lord” means that what I uphold and practice is the Dao. What is called “before the Lord” also refers to the Dao: it is one with the nameless and formless source from which the myriad things arise. Whoever can practice such a Dao can emulate the Dao and draw near to that source which precedes the Lord of Heaven and precedes the myriad things.

Heaven and Earth have no partiality in the ordinary worldly sense: they draw near the side of good and do not draw near the side of evil. Therefore, when Heaven and Earth remove those who do evil, they do not cherish them, but regard them as straw and livestock. The sage models himself on Heaven and Earth and on the Dao (the Way); he likewise draws near good people and does not draw near evil people. When he carries out the government of a king and executes the wicked, he likewise regards them as straw and livestock.

Therefore, a person ought to accumulate good deeds so that his own spirit may commune with Heaven. If someone seeks to harm such a person, Heaven will come to his aid. Mediocre people are merely of the “straw and livestock” kind; their spirit cannot commune with Heaven. This is like thieves who harbor evil intentions and dare not face the officials charged with criminal justice: their Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) naturally cannot draw near to Heaven, and when the crisis of life and death arrives, Heaven does not know of them.

The Yellow Emperor was humane and possessed sagely De (Virtue/Power). Understanding the minds of later generations, he bound straw into the shapes of livestock and placed them at the doorway, to show that those of later ages who keep watch beside the door all belong to the “straw and livestock” kind. Later people did not grasp the Yellow Emperor’s deeper meaning; they merely imitated the practice as it stood, yet did not give up their evil thoughts. This is truly a great calamity.

“Between Heaven and Earth, is it not like a bellows and panpipes?” The Qi of the Dao fills the space between Heaven and Earth. It is clear and subtle and cannot be seen, and all living things ought to revere it. The foolish do not believe this, and so the bellows and the panpipes are used as a metaphor: when a craftsman works the bellows, or when bamboo pipes are blown, the moment the current of Qi moves, a sound is produced, yet the Qi itself cannot be seen. By this the Jing (scripture) shows that, although the Qi of the Dao cannot be seen, it is still in operation, so as to dispel the doubts of the foolish.

“Empty, yet it is not exhausted; the more it is set in motion, the more vitality it has.” Clear Qi cannot be seen and seems empty, yet the coming and going of breath never ceases; the more there is activity, the more abundantly clear Qi wells forth.

“The more one hears, the more easily one falls into difficulty; better to hold fast to what is within.” To pursue a great deal of showy knowledge is not as good as holding to the Dao and preserving oneself. When life reaches its end, it will in the end come to that end; rather than chasing external things again and again, it is better to learn and hold to the Dao of central harmony.

“The valley spirit never dies; this is called the mysterious female.” Here “valley” refers to desire. When Jing (essence) gathers and condenses, it becomes Shen (spirit)—the spirit of a person’s mind and life. To let the spirit endure, one should concentrate essence and Qi (vital energy) and keep hold of oneself. What is called the “female” is the earth. The earth is still and bears all things; like a woman, it does not contend to stand first. A man who wishes to gather his essence and qi should keep a mind like the earth and like a woman, and not rush ahead in every matter.

“The gateway of the mysterious female is called the root of Heaven and Earth.” The female refers to the earth and also symbolizes woman. The genital region is likened to a gateway, the pass through which life and death come and go, and is therefore called the root. A man’s reproductive organ is likewise called the root.

“Faint and continuous, as if it remains” speaks of the way of Yin-Yang. If essence and qi can gather in a fine and sustained way, life can be maintained. As the years advance and one comes to understand the length of one’s own life, one should know how to practice timely restraint. Even in youth, when desire is present, it should be held in check. “Faint and continuous” means fine and slight. Beginning from what is minute, if one can exercise restraint while still young, life may be preserved for a long time. To indulge desire without restraint will instead bring great harm.

Why does the Dao (the Way) arrange things in this way? The Dao values the continuation of sacrifice, so that descendants are never cut off. In order that men and women may unite and bring forth posterity, it teaches people to desire little and to practice some restraint in youth; it does not teach them to strain with all their might. To suppose that one must labor strenuously is only the notion of the foolish. How can this be blamed on the Dao?

A person of superior De (Virtue/Power)—one of lofty moral character—has a firm resolve and does not crave the begetting of descendants. While still young, such a person can cut off desire and can also accomplish spiritual cultivation comparatively early. The scripture says these things in setting forth the essentials of the Dao. Thus, that Heaven and Earth perform no sacrifices, that the dragon has no offspring, that the immortal has no wife, and that the Jade Maiden has no husband, are all clear proofs of this principle.

“Use it without strenuous effort” means that, in applying this principle, one need not force matters or exert oneself to excess. Cultivating in accordance with this way, one should be able to attain long life; yet the relations between men and women must not be left entirely unattended.

Heaven endures and Earth lasts long. Heaven and Earth can endure because they do not live for their own sake, and for that reason they can last. If a person can model themselves on the Dao (the Way), they too can preserve themselves and make life long-lasting.

Thus the sage places himself behind, and yet comes to stand in front. Those who seek long life do not exhaust their minds scheming for wealth to nourish the body; lacking any merit, they do not press a ruler for emoluments with which to adorn themselves; they do not crave every kind of flavor; they do not pursue fine and splendid clothing; and they are unconcerned even when their clothes are worn out and their shoes worn through. They do not contend with the worldly. This is what it means to place oneself behind. The commentary holds that acting in this way enables a person to become an immortal, live long, and receive blessings; one who stands behind in the eyes of worldly people can instead become the one who truly stands first.

“By setting one’s own person aside, one’s person is instead preserved” has the same meaning as what precedes. The saying “because there is no corpse-like conduct, one can bring one’s corpse to completion” means that those who do not understand the way of long life do everything the body does as if a corpse were moving—not led by the Dao—and so all of it is called “corpse-like conduct.” A cultivator of the Dao can become an immortal and live long precisely because they do not engage in this kind of conduct that departs from the Dao and thus differ from worldly people; only then, in the end, can they bring themselves to completion as immortals.

“The highest goodness is like water. Water is good at nourishing the myriad things, yet it does not contend with them.” Water is soft, weak, and yielding. Like the Dao, it does not occupy high places but tends toward low ones, avoiding what is solid and flowing into what is empty. It constantly moistens and assists the myriad things, yet never contends. Therefore the scripture (Jing) calls on people to emulate water.

“It dwells in places that the multitude detests, and so it comes closest to the Dao.” Water can contain filth and impurity, and therefore closely resembles the Dao.

“In dwelling, it is good at choosing low ground; in mind, it is good at remaining deep.” When water meets a low and empty place, it settles there and becomes a deep pool; “abyss” means a place of depth. In dealing with others, one should emulate water, always keeping goodwill and benevolence in the heart; in speech, one should be honest and trustworthy; in governing affairs, one should emulate the Dao, so that the state is brought to order.

“In doing things, it is good at bringing its strengths into play.” When people choose a teacher to serve, they should seek someone who truly understands the true Dao and possesses sound ability, and should not serve those who are deviant and false, skilled only in clever techniques, holding heterodox knowledge and views, and arrogant and extravagant. “In action, it is good at seizing the right moment” means that in what one does, one must neither violate the precepts of the Dao nor harm the kingly Qi (vital energy)—the living dynamism manifested in the workings of Heaven and Earth.

“Only by not contending is there no great harm.” Here “only” means solely or alone, and “harm” refers to great faults and calamities. If a person can refrain from contending as water does, they will in the end meet with no great disaster.

Holding things until they are too full is not as good as stopping at the proper measure; turning them over again and again in pursuit of pleasure cannot preserve them for long either. What is meant here is that Daoist practitioners should guard their Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), so that Jing and Qi congeal into Shen (spirit). Some people in the world falsely invoke the names of the Yellow Emperor, the Mysterious Woman, Gongzi, Rongcheng, and others, and transmit the practice of sexual union without emitting Jing. They hope by this method to draw Jing and Qi back and use them to nourish the brain, yet they leave the mind and Shen unable to remain undivided, and they lose the very root of guarding Jing and Qi. This is precisely the single-minded pursuit of pleasure, which cannot preserve Jing and Qi for long. Ruo means ru (“as” or “like”); the line is saying that it is better to follow the natural course of things.

“Even when gold and jade fill the hall, there is no one who can hold on to them.” A person’s Jing and Qi lie stored in abundance within the body. If one does not know how to cherish and guard them, and is unwilling to quiet the mind and follow what is natural, but instead deliberately probes and manipulates them, one falls into error.

“Wealth and honor attended by arrogance bring disaster upon oneself.” After Jing and Qi have congealed into Shen and Yang Qi is abundant, one should cherish oneself all the more, gather in the thoughts of the mind, and neither indulge in arrogance nor humiliate the Yin partner. Where there is arrogance and oppression, disaster follows. On another level of meaning, if after gaining power and wealth one looks down on others, disaster is likewise invited.

“Once merit and fame have been achieved, one should withdraw and step aside; this is the Dao (the Way) of Heaven.” Reputation and accomplishment may become a calamity for the body: after merit is complete and a name is made, the body too may come to grief because of them, and so the Daodejing (the Classic of the Dao and of De [Virtue/Power]) offers this as a warning. When Fan Li, having achieved his merit, departed by boat, he embodied the Dao’s intent of humility, withdrawal, and keeping faith. He neither concealed his bodily form nor suffered injury; this is precisely the result of that way of acting.

“Let spirit and bodily form bear and hold fast to the Dao (the Way), so that they are able not to separate from one another.” The po spoken of here refers to pure white Qi (vital energy); thus this pure white Qi is the same color as primordial Qi. The human body is like a carriage that carries Jing (essence) and Qi. Once Jing and Qi begin to dissipate, one should bear and safeguard them. After Shen (spirit) condenses and takes form, Qi arrives, carried and circulating within the human body. To preserve this efficacy, one cannot depart from the “One.” The “One” is the Dao.

Where, then, is the “One,” and how is it to be guarded? The “One” is not found only in the human body. Those things that attach themselves to the body and purport to carry Jing and Qi are for the most part the false arts current in the world, not the true Dao. The “One” lies beyond Heaven and Earth, while human beings dwell between Heaven and Earth. The “One” merely comes and goes within the human body; it is not confined to any single place. When it disperses, it transforms into Qi; when it gathers and takes form, it becomes the Most High Lord Lao (Taishang Laojun, a revered deity of Daoism), who constantly dwells on Mount Kunlun. Some call it “emptiness,” some call it “the natural,” and some call it “the nameless.” All of these names refer to the same “One.”

The precepts by which the Dao is now transmitted teach people to observe the precepts and not transgress them. This is guarding the “One.” Not to follow the precepts is to lose the “One.” The false arts current in the world point to the five viscera and call them the “One,” instructing people to close their eyes and contemplate in stillness, supposing that in this way they can obtain blessings. This practice is wrong, and it only takes one ever farther from the Dao of life.

“Concentrate wholly on harmonizing the breath, so that the body becomes soft and supple, and one can be like an infant.” An infant has no cunning or contrivance and therefore accords with the Dao, yet does not yet know how to restrain itself. As human intelligence gradually arises, one moves toward aging and decline. What is said here is that if one wishes to soften body and mind and nurture the breath, one should emulate the young infant.

“Cleanse the inner mind, so that profound contemplation is without flaw.” The human body is like Heaven and Earth. “Lan” means broad contemplation, and “ci” means fault. Whatever does not accord with what the Dao delights in should be washed away from oneself, and one’s conduct must also be free of fault.

“Cherish the people and govern the state, yet do not act by cunning and deluded knowledge.” If a ruler wishes the people to enjoy long life in peace and the state to be tranquil, he should devote himself to grasping the intent of the Dao, teach the people to recognize the true Dao, and not let them mistakenly put faith in a false Dao.

“Be lucid and penetrating, yet follow what is natural and refrain from willful action.” Superior cultivators of the Dao have a penetrating state of mind and know many things. Knowing what is evil, they renounce it; knowing what is good, they strive to practice it, and they dare not do evil deeds.

“Heaven and Earth open and close; the male should emulate softness and compliance.” What is spoken of here is the Dao of the Yin-Yang union of male and female. The male should take the Earth as his model and be soft and compliant like the female. This has already been discussed above.

“Bring the myriad things to life and nurture them: give birth to and rear the myriad things without taking them as one’s own; act, yet do not presume upon one’s merit; bring them to maturity, yet do not dominate them. This is called mysterious De (Virtue/Power).” Here “mysterious” refers to Heaven. To act constantly in this way in accordance with the Dao is so that people may take it as their model.

Thirty spokes converge upon the hub—the part at the center of the wheel that joins the spokes—and it is precisely because the hub is hollow that the carriage is useful. In ancient times there were as yet no carriages; later the Dao (the Way) sent Xi Zhong to make them. Foolish people who obtain a carriage know only how to covet the convenience it brings. They give no thought to practicing the Dao by means of it, nor do they understand the wondrous subtlety of the Dao. Wise people, upon seeing a carriage, know how to feel gratitude for the beneficence of the Dao, quietly exhort themselves, and guard the true meaning of the Dao with still greater care.

Clay is kneaded and fired into vessels; these too serve to hold things only because the vessel is hollow, and the principle is the same as that of the carriage. Doors and windows are cut to build a house; the house serves as a dwelling only because there is empty space within. Tradition holds that the Dao caused the Yellow Emperor to do this, and the principle is again the same as that of the carriage.

What has form brings convenience; it is emptiness that performs the function. These three things were all originally difficult to fashion, and without the Dao they could not have been accomplished. Worldly people, once they have obtained them, covet only convenience and do not know their source. Wise people, seeing them, instead hold fast to their true function. With the Dao as the root, the minds of the foolish and the wise stand as opposite as north and south, and the difference between them is very great. Such is the meaning of these three matters.

In the world today there are certain false arts that take genuine Jing (scriptures) as their support and deceive people by fraud and clever argument. They claim that the Dao has a celestial hub and that the human body likewise has a hub, and that one should single-mindedly gather and nurture Qi (vital energy) so as to make the body soft and yielding. In the Jing, they say, “spokes” refer to the bodily form, just as the spokes of a carriage are constrained by the hub and the linchpin—the pin that fixes the wheel—and that one must also cultivate embryonic breathing and refine the bodily form, just as earth is prepared and made into earthenware. Still others say that the Dao possesses, within the human body, structures such as doors and windows. All these teachings are deviant, false, and spurious, and must not be adopted; those who adopt them fall into the greatest delusion.

A profusion of colors scatters the gaze and, over time, harms the eyesight. The five tones (all kinds of musical sound) damage the hearing. What is meant here is not refined and proper music, but the music of the Zheng and Wei regions. Sounds of this contentious, strident kind injure people; hearing too much of them dissipates the spirit (Shen), which is why they are said to make one deaf. The five flavors (all kinds of taste) throw the mouth and tongue out of order. Those who cultivate the Dao (the Way) do not crave these flavors. Disorder of the mouth and tongue means ulceration and sores in the mouth.

Galloping on horseback and hunting in the fields drive the mind and spirit into frenzy. Because the heart is not set on the proper Dao but thinks only of killing beasts that have done no wrong, one becomes frenzied. Goods that are hard to obtain hinder a person’s conduct; this is not what the Dao desires. Cultivators seek life and the Dao, not material goods. Greed for goods is an act of youwei (contrived action) and instead obstructs cultivation of the Dao.

Therefore the sage attends to nourishing the body and does not chase sensory pleasure. The meanings of “belly” and “eye” were already explained in the previous chapter: set aside those actions that do not accord with the Dao, and follow the admonitions of the Dao given here.

“Receiving favor and suffering disgrace are both like being startled; one should regard a great calamity as one regards one’s own person.” The Dao (the Way) does not approve of straining after high rank, for favor received often brings disgrace as well. Here ruo means “like” or “as.” When favor comes, one should remain watchful, as if startled, and not sink into it. Ruozhe means a person of that kind. If someone turns against the Dao to seek glory and splendor, calamity will fall upon him as disgrace and alarm do, and may even endanger his person.

“Why say that favor and disgrace both occupy a low place? One is as if startled on gaining favor, and as if startled on losing it; this is what is called ‘favor and disgrace are like being startled.’” “Occupying a low place” means that those who crave favor are shallow in insight. Such people are not valued by the Dao.

“What is meant by regarding a great calamity as one regards one’s own person?” The sense is as already explained.

“The reason I have a great calamity is that I have this body.” Here wu refers to the Dao; wo and wu mean the same. The Dao is the most honored, yet it is ever alert to calamity and does not dare pursue glory and splendor; it seeks to lessen the desires of the self. How can those who crave favor let the desires of the body outweigh the Dao? To break the precepts of the Dao for the sake of bodily enjoyment is wrong.

“Once I no longer take the body as an object of attachment, what calamity remains?” Here both wu and wo refer to the Dao. The Dao’s aim is to be free of attachment to the body and to concern itself only with nourishing Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy). “Having no body” does not mean harming the body. It means not craving the body, and letting others take this attitude as their model.

“Therefore, if one values one’s own person above the world, the world cannot be entrusted to him.” Here ruo refers to those who have a body and crave favor. Such people think only of favor and enjoyment. They are sure to seek fine clothes and rich food, spacious palaces, lofty terraces and towers, and stores of treasure. They therefore undertake many things, leaving the people weary and hard-pressed, and so cannot be made Son of Heaven.

If the world is governed according to the intent of the Dao, the ruler, though he has a body, does not crave enjoyment, does not seek glory and splendor, and does not indulge in lavish food and drink. He regularly uses what is plain and lives sparely. Governing in this way, he can have little selfishness and few desires, follow the natural course of things, keep to simplicity, and accord with the intent of the Dao.

One ought to preserve one’s person, yet one ought not to crave it. To preserve the person is to keep the precepts of the Dao, accumulate good deeds so as to accomplish merit, and concentrate Jing (essence) and Qi so as to nurture the luminous spirit, until that spirit is full and one attains long life and immortality, taking these as the treasures of one’s own person. To chase honor and favor, to spend mind and spirit on seeking wealth, and then to indulge desire with fine food—this is craving the body, and it does not accord with the Dao.

“Only one who cherishes his own person more than the world may have the world entrusted to him.” This sentence means the same as what has just been said.

“Look at it and you cannot see it—this is called ‘yi’; listen for it and you cannot hear it—this is called ‘xi’; try to grasp it with the hand and you cannot seize it—this is called ‘wei.’” Yi means level, broad, and boundless; xi means vast and hard to measure; wei is Daoqi, the clear and profoundly subtle Qi (vital energy) of the Dao (the Way). These three conditions are described in order to praise the excellence of the Dao.

“These three cannot be pursued to the end, and so they blend into one.” All three formulations speak in praise of the excellence of the Dao. The Dao is the root of all things in the world. If one investigates them one by one, the matters involved are beyond counting, and even bamboo slips and silk manuscripts cannot record them all, so in the end they must still return to the One. What hindrance is there in the multitude of things? It is only that the plain and simple Qi disperses and the ways of the age grow shallow and frivolous—will they enter the Dao once more? Therefore the Dao cannot be exhaustively fathomed.

“Above, it is not bright; below, it is not dark.” Daoqi constantly moves above and below, reaching throughout heaven and earth, within and without. Because it is clear and profoundly subtle, it cannot be seen. Above, it does not display itself in brilliance; below, it is not without sound or stir. “Hu” carries the sense of sound.

“Dim and hard to name, it returns at last to nothing.” Such is the Dao: it cannot be seen and is difficult to name, as though there were nothing at all.

“This is form without form, the image of what is no thing.” The Dao is supreme, subtle, and hidden, without shape or appearance. People can only follow the admonitions of the Dao; they cannot see or know it by outward form. Today there are those in the world who, by means of false arts, assign the Dao a body and a name, saying that it has clothing, color, titles, features, and length. None of these claims is correct; all are empty and false.

“This is called the vague and elusive. Meet it head-on, and you do not see its head; follow after it, and you do not see its tail.” This means that the Dao truly cannot be seen or known, and that it has no image.

“Hold to the Dao handed down from antiquity, and use it to govern the affairs of the present.” How do we know that the Dao still exists today? Observe those of ancient times who attained the Dao and lived long: all of them practiced this Dao. From this one may know that people today can also keep the Dao and not lose it.

“By the experience of the ancients one comes to know the beginning of things; this is the guiding principle of the Dao.” Taking the long lives of the ancient immortals as a model, if people today are thereby encouraged to exert themselves and hold firmly to the true Dao, they too can grasp the essentials of the Dao.

In ancient times, those skilled in cultivating the Dao (the Way) were subtle and mysterious, and in communion with the Dao of Heaven. “Xuan” means Heaven. In the ordinary world of today, some of these principles have already been lost. The scripture (Jing) says, “From ancient times, this has been the guiding thread of the Dao,” meaning that a cultivator may encourage himself with the longevity of the ancient immortals, strive to hold fast to the truth of the Dao, and thereby grasp its essential outline.

In ancient times, those skilled in cultivating the Dao could keep faith and remain cautious, discern what is hidden and minute, and commune with the Dao of Heaven; they were so profound that others could not see through them. When a person follows the Dao and observes the precepts, the subtle Qi (vital energy) of the Dao gathers in the body. The breath is deep, rich, and remote, and so it is hard for others to fathom. Precisely because it is hard to fathom, one can only force certain images to describe it. “Wei” means “alone,” and “rong” means form or appearance. One who practices the Dao alone, and whose De (Virtue/Power) runs deep, is hard to name; such a person is therefore reluctantly called “skilled in cultivating the Dao,” in praise of the vastness of that Dao and De.

“Hesitant, as if fording a river in winter; watchful, as if fearing the four neighbors” means being as cautious as when crossing a river in winter, and as apprehensive as if afraid the four neighbors might notice. Here the “four neighbors” are the people round about. One who honors the Dao and keeps the precepts should be careful and reverent in every movement, and dare not do what does not accord with the Dao. “Grave, as a guest” means a respectful and modest bearing: one does not dare to offend or do evil, just as a guest sits in the house of the host.

“Loosening, as ice about to melt” means that desires and thoughts may lead a person into anger and into unwholesome deeds; as soon as one finds that a thought goes against what the Dao requires, one must stop it at once and let it disperse, as ice melts when it meets the sun. “Undifferentiated, as the uncarved block; open, as a valley” means striving to trust the reality of the Dao, casting off deviant and false cleverness, holding to original simplicity, and not letting stray thoughts disturb the mind. The heart is spacious and empty, attending only to the Dao, vacant and still like a mountain valley.

“Thick, as if turbid; the turbid, stilled, gradually clears” means that one who seeks long life does not contend, does not harbor resentment, and does not change aspiration to follow worldly custom. Such a person concentrates on seeking the Dao and learns the method of clarity and stillness, and at first may seem muddled and not yet lucid. If one can hold to this plainness and quiet, the mind and Shen (spirit) will afterward grow gradually clear, and one will be able to discern subtle principles. Inner clarity, without clinging to the secular world, is an important principle of cultivating the Dao in clarity and stillness.

When Heaven and Earth are tranquil, clouds of Qi rise and dew condenses, and the myriad things are moistened. When thunder, lightning, and violent winds arise, Heaven and Earth appear parched, the myriad things are harmed, and the Qi of the Dao seems to lie hidden and no longer circulates everywhere. A person should take Heaven and Earth as a model, and must not remain in a restless, dry condition, but should always make clarity and stillness essential. When the dew-breath rises and falls at dawn and dusk, a person’s own breath can circulate along with it. A teacher arranges practice of clarity and stillness morning and evening because clarity and stillness are the key to cultivating the Dao. Heaven and Earth also have times when they fall out of order, and this may serve as a warning to people. If a person has faults, one should reflect in good time and return to the original truth of the Dao. If one’s De is insufficient and one has erred, yet lets the matter go unchecked, one ought instead to restrain oneself and keep the precepts.

“Settled, and then by movement gradually coming to life” means that before acting, a person should first grow quiet and consider the precepts and principles of the Dao; only after making sure that one does not go against the Dao does one slowly carry the matter out, so that the impulse of life does not depart.

“One who preserves this Dao does not wish to be full” means that one who keeps the Dao does not let the will swell with self-satisfaction, nor let the thoughts fill with evil. “Only by not being full can one set it aside and become complete again.” Here “shi” (corpse) is explained as death, and “cheng” as life. Only by keeping the Dao without becoming full can decline be turned into accomplishment.

“Only by guarding the Dao (the Way) without filling to overflowing can decline be turned into achievement.” The death of the corpse is decline; the survival of the body is achievement. Only by guarding the Dao without self-satisfaction and without overflowing can decline be turned into achievement.

“Empty the mind to the utmost, and firmly maintain clarity and stillness.” The truth of the Dao has its own constant principle, yet people cannot understand it, and so turn instead to admire the constant practices and arts of the world. Someone then comes forward to teach, pointing out forms and names, describing the Dao as having a definite place, clothing, length, and other prescriptions, and having people ponder accordingly. Even if this is practiced with bitter effort to the extreme, it brings no blessing; it is only falsehood and deception. Forcing what is false to be taken as true is going to an extreme. It is better to hold firmly to clarity and stillness, single-minded and steadfast.

“The myriad things grow together, and from this I observe how they return. All things grow in profusion and in the end return to the root.” All things contain the Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) of the Dao. Growing together means that the myriad things have just begun to sprout. “I” is the Dao. When one observes the return of the Jing and Qi of the myriad things, one finds that they all return to the root; people should therefore be led to cherish the root and guard it with care.

“Returning to the root is called stillness.” When the Qi of the Dao returns to the root, one ought to be all the more clear and pure.

“Stillness is called returning to one’s original destiny; returning to one’s original destiny is called constancy.” Knowing how to cherish the root and guard clarity and stillness is the constant principle of returning to one’s original destiny.

“Only one who understands the constant Dao can be regarded as truly clear.” Only by understanding and cherishing this constant principle is one truly clear-sighted.

“One who does not understand the constant Dao, and who acts recklessly at will, will bring on calamity.” The false arts of the world do not grasp the original meaning of the constant Dao. They rashly set up their own teachings and write down all kinds of instructions, and therefore all invite calamity.

“One who understands the constant Dao can be all-embracing.” Understanding the principle and original meaning of the constant Dao, one can preserve the bodily form for a long time.

“Being all-embracing, one can be impartial.” By preserving the bodily form through the Dao, one can become a being between Heaven and Earth capable of containing the myriad things. Dwelling between Heaven and Earth without fearing death, one is therefore able to be impartial.

“Being impartial, one can live.” Being able to practice impartial governance in accord with the Dao, one can live for a long time.

“Living, one can accord with the Way of Heaven.” Being able to attain long life, one corresponds with the Way of Heaven.

“Heaven is able to accord with the Dao.” Heaven can operate enduringly and sustain life because it models itself on the Dao.

“If a person models the Dao, that person can endure.” If one acts according to the original meaning of the Dao, one can endure.

“To the end of life one does not fall into peril.” Taiyin (the underworld, or the dark and obscure realm) is the palace in which the Dao accumulates and cultivates the bodily form. When there is nowhere in the world to settle securely, the worthy withdraw and claim that they have already died. After passing through the realm of Taiyin, they manifest once more, in another place, the form of birth. Thus, although they pass through death, they do not fall into peril. Ordinary people cannot accumulate good deeds; after death they are truly dead and come under the Earth Official (the divine office that governs the souls of the dead).

For one who stands in a superior position, the most excellent way of governing is simply to let the people know that this ruler exists. This kind of “knowing” is understanding of the highest order; another kind of “knowing” is a special fondness for noticing what is bad. Even with understanding of the highest order, one should still recognize what is bad, correct it, and not dare let it occur.

“Next, the people draw close to him and praise him.” When one sees a person willing to practice goodness, one explains to him the essential purport of the Dao (the Way), so that he can draw near to the Dao. When one sees a person who diligently studies goodness, one approaches and praises him, then instructs and encourages him, and does one’s utmost to help him propagate Daoism.

“Next again, the people fear him.” On meeting someone who does evil, one admonishes him and makes clear the way of goodness. If, having heard the principle, he submits, one may teach him to amend his faults. Going a step further, one sets forth the precepts and admonitions of the Dao and makes manifest the awe of Heaven, so that he corrects himself out of reverence and fear.

“Next again, the people treat him with contempt.” When the way of goodness is explained to an evildoer and he refuses to change, but instead laughs and mocks, such a person is one of the “chugou” sort—here meaning someone who does not understand principle and holds words of goodness cheap—and is unworthy to be regarded as a person of clear understanding. One may ignore him and need not converse with him.

“Where good faith is insufficient, there will be disbelief.” Those of the chugou sort lack sincerity within, and so they do not trust the words of good people.

“It is precisely because words are treasured that affairs can be successfully accomplished.” Not a single word spoken by the Dao may be lightly cast aside. One who attains the Dao and becomes an immortal treasures the words of the Dao, and therefore can regularly bring undertakings to completion and see matters properly done.

“The people all say, ‘I am naturally so.’” Here “I” refers to the immortal adept. The immortal adept treasures the words of the Dao and does not lightly discard a single sentence, and therefore can regularly accomplish things. The people, however, suppose that the immortal adept reaches such achievement without study and without treasuring and faithfully keeping the words of the Dao. In order to show that they themselves are unwilling to admire, follow, and emulate the immortal adept, they say that all of this is simply the way he is by nature.

“When the great Dao (the Way) was abandoned, only then did talk of benevolence and righteousness arise.” In high antiquity, when the great Dao prevailed, people treated one another with benevolence and righteousness, and their conduct was much the same; benevolence and righteousness were not singled out on their own. Now that the great Dao is no longer practiced, people’s character grows daily more corrupt and shallow. When someone occasionally acts with righteousness, everyone makes a point of praising him and setting him apart from the rest. Hence it is said that “there is benevolence and righteousness.”

“When wisdom arose, only then did great hypocrisy appear.” The true Dao was hidden away, and perverse, delusive discourse emerged. The world is often full of spurious arts that claim to be the teaching of the Dao; all of these are great hypocrisies not to be adopted. What is perverse, delusive discourse? A portion of the Five Classics has been mixed with heterodox teachings. The various books and biographies outside the Five Classics, all those written by “corpse-persons” (here meaning people who have departed from the great Dao and mislead others with false words), are likewise perverse and delusive doctrines.

“When the six relations are not in harmony, only then do filial piety and parental kindness appear.” When the great Dao prevailed, every household was kind and filial, and all were alike, so kindness and filial piety did not need to be specially singled out. Now that the great Dao is no longer practiced, people are no longer kind and filial, and the six relations fall into discord. When someone occasionally achieves kindness and filial piety, everyone makes a point of praising him and setting him apart from the rest. Hence it is said that “there are filial piety and parental kindness.”

“When the state is benighted and disordered, only then do loyal ministers appear.” When the great Dao prevailed, the sovereign personally practiced the great Dao and explained its principles clearly, so that ministers and people could all follow his example. People understood the intent of the Dao, slighted death and valued becoming immortals, acted with loyalty and filial piety, and were plain and sincere. Ministers were all similarly loyal, and there was no need to single them out. Now that the great Dao is no longer practiced, ministers all study perverse and delusive doctrines, grow accustomed to scheming and deceit, follow their private desires, speak fair words on the surface while harboring ill will within. When someone is occasionally loyal, everyone makes a point of praising him and setting him apart from the rest. Hence it is said that “there are loyal ministers.”

When the great Dao prevailed, ministers were loyal and children were filial, and the state was easy to govern. At that time ministers did not fear the ruler and the father, but stood in awe of the celestial spirits. They practiced loyalty and filial piety with true hearts; even if they did not attain immortality and long life, they still acted with sincerity. They did not seek to have the ruler and father know of their loyalty and filial piety, but carried it out in silence. If the ruler and father came to know and rewarded them with high office, repaying them out of personal feeling, then doing good would become a matter of seeking return, and Heaven’s blessing would not descend. Therefore they did not display their merits. Now, even when ministers are loyal and filial, they often wish thereby to curry favor with the ruler and father and to seek rank and reputation. If they are not promptly commended, they grow resentful and discontented, saying that they are not valued. Such people appear loyal and filial outwardly but are not so within; they have no sincere conduct that moves Heaven, and so the state is hard to govern. To change this situation, the key lies in the sovereign’s wholehearted faith in the precepts and admonitions of the Dao.

“Discard sagehood and abandon knowledge, and the people will benefit a hundredfold” means removing those heterodox teachings that falsely claim the title of sage and flaunt cleverness. A true sage is born of Heaven and must bear confirming signs, and his name will also appear in the River Chart and the Luo Writing. What he proclaims is always the true Dao (the Way), and it will not lead people astray. Heterodox ways do not believe the teachings of the true sage; therefore the great sages of thousands of years must be called upon to set forth the true Dao and clear away heterodox doctrines.

Nowadays some people conduct themselves improperly. Having read a few scriptures (Jing) and technical arts, and before they have grasped the truth of the Dao, they call themselves sages. They do not found their words and writings on fundamental principles, nor can they attain the Dao, yet they first busy themselves with promoting their own reputation. They do not urge people to cultivate the true and practice goodness in pursuit of longevity and immortality; instead they say that becoming an immortal depends entirely on a register of immortal bones fixed at birth. Having themselves failed to cultivate to that point, they declare that there is no way of long life and call Daoist books deceptive. Their guilt is grave; they are people of great wickedness, and they will cause later students never again to believe in the Dao. The common people no longer think of supporting their parents, nor do they settle contentedly to farming. They only chase heterodox learning, hurrying from one teacher’s gate to another and exhausting their strength in recitation until they grow old and die. They can neither move Heaven by the utmost sincerity of loyalty and filial piety, so that their own cultivation reaches longevity and immortality, nor assist the ruler in bringing about great peace. If the people continue in this way, cities and towns will grow ever more empty. What must therefore be removed are the heterodox teachings that falsely borrow the name of the sage—not the Dao and wisdom of the true sage.

“Discard benevolence and abandon righteousness, and the people will return to filial piety and parental kindness” means that governing the state should accord with the Dao, allowing those in the world who have a heart of benevolence and righteousness to act of themselves, without forcibly rewarding them. Only then can moral transformation spread widely and people come to understand the mind of the Dao. If a person practices benevolence and righteousness with a true heart, he will of himself reach utmost sincerity, and Heaven will naturally reward him; if his sincerity falls short, Heaven will also punish him. Heaven’s scrutiny of the human heart is perfectly clear. When the people all know to honor the Dao and stand in awe of Heaven, benevolence and righteousness can arise from sincerity. Nowadays the ruler uses official orders to force rewards upon them, and the people no longer turn their hearts to Heaven. Seeing that they can deceive, they feign benevolence and righteousness in order to seek salaries and rewards. Even if others perceive the falseness, once they see that such people have obtained office and emolument, they too envy and imitate them and go on feigning benevolence and righteousness, so that in the end no one attains true benevolence and righteousness. The world’s discernment is unclear; therefore this kind of reward should be stopped, and the people will naturally recover kindness and filial obedience. This reasoning will at first run counter to the ideas of ordinary people; in time it will become clear and accord with the Dao. The ruler ought to understand it deeply.

“Discard cleverness and abandon profit, and thieves and robbers will cease to exist.” Here “cleverness” means deviant cleverness, and “profit” means the obtaining of treasures. When the world no longer esteems these things, thieves and robbers will have no gain to pursue.

The three statements above point out the roots of great disorder under Heaven and seek to make clear how these disorders may be dissolved. Even a great many words could hardly set it all down, so the essentials are gathered into this Daoist text and are not placed in external books. Only the general outline is given here, and from it the reader can know where the sources of disorder lie.

“Have little selfishness and few desires” means that what the cultivation of the Dao advocates is reducing the selfish concerns and desires of ordinary worldly life.

To cut off worldly learning is to be free of anxiety. How far apart, after all, are the two responses “wei” and “he”? Those who do not understand find this strange and press the question: “What learning is to be cut off? What has the Dao (the Way) to do with it? How near or far does the deviant path stand from the Dao?” Cut off deviant learning and attend single-mindedly to keeping the Dao, and the Dao will surely come into accord with the person. The true Dao and deviant learning lie very far apart: the Dao enables a person to gain life, while deviant learning drives a person toward death. Death returns to the earth, and life returns to heaven; thus the two stand extremely far apart.

How much do “beauty” and “ugliness” differ? Those who do not understand press on again, wishing to know how near or far beauty and ugliness stand from each other—that is, how near or far the Dao and deviant learning stand. People of the present age regard the two as equal. “Beauty” is goodness: life returns to heaven. Ugliness drives a person toward death, which returns to the earth.

What people fear cannot go unfeared, and misfortune seems to have no end. The Dao rewards good conduct with life and warns against evil conduct with death. Death is what human beings fear. Immortal kings, Daoist priests, and ordinary people all know to fear death and delight in life; only what they practice differs. Ordinary people wander in confusion, as if they had not yet escaped death. Although they fear death, they do not believe in the Dao and still like to do evil—how could they possibly avoid death? Those who cultivate the Dao fear death, revere the Dao, and observe the precepts, and so are able to accord with life.

“The multitude bustle merrily, as if partaking of a sumptuous sacrificial feast, and as if climbing a terrace in spring to enjoy the view.” Ordinary people do not believe in the Dao and like to do evil, as much at ease as if they were enjoying food and drink or ascending a terrace for springtime pleasure.

“I” have not yet shown any desire, like an infant that has not yet smiled, as if with nowhere to belong. Here “I” refers to those who cultivate the Dao: they delight only in believing in the Dao and keeping the precepts, and take no pleasure in evil. When they face evil, no thought arises in the mind; they are as purely unknowing as an infant not yet born.

“The multitude all have more than enough; I alone seem to have lost something.” Ordinary people harbor evil thoughts and are forever calculating; those who cultivate the Dao forget all such thoughts, so that the mind is empty of everything.

“I have the mind of a fool, plain and unmixed.” Those who cultivate the Dao concentrate on apprehending the Dao and are unfamiliar with worldly affairs, so they appear as simple as a dullard.

“Worldly people are keen and clear-sighted.” They do not believe in the Dao and see only wickedness and profit, and so appear penetrating and distinct. “I alone am muddled.” Those who cultivate the Dao draw in their thoughts and do not calculate wickedness and profit, and so seem dim and unclear.

“Worldly people are shrewd and exacting.” They understand worldly affairs very clearly. “I alone am dull and shut in.” Those who cultivate the Dao, by contrast, are unfamiliar with worldly matters.

“Vague and elusive, as if in darkness, with no place in the mind to settle.” Those who cultivate the Dao entrust their intention to the Dao, as if dwelling in obscurity. Sitting quietly or lying still, they admit no admixture of worldly affairs; they think only of the Dao and do not set their minds on worldly things.

“The multitude each have something they have gained; I alone am stubbornly dull and lowly.” Ordinary people possess treasure and rank in the world, while those who cultivate the Dao appear, in worldly eyes, like stubborn, dull, and coarse people.

“I wish to differ from other people, and what I prize is the mother that nourishes me.” Those who cultivate the Dao differ from ordinary people. They do not value glory, salary, or treasure; they value only “feeding on the mother.” “Feeding on the mother” means taking the body as the root. Within the body the stomach is the center, and the stomach governs the Qi (vital energy) of the five viscera. Ordinary people sustain life by eating grain; if the grain is cut off, they die. Those who cultivate the Dao eat grain when they have it, and when they have none they nourish the body with Qi. Qi returns to the stomach, and the stomach is like a doubled sac within the intestines and abdomen. The abdomen is the treasury of the body; this has already been explained above.

“The bearing of great De (Virtue/Power) follows the Dao (the Way) alone.” The manifestation of great De follows only the Dao. The Dao is exceedingly vast; Confucius too received its instruction and thereby came to some understanding. People of later ages do not trust the scriptures of the Dao, but revere only the books of Confucius and regard them as supreme. For this reason the Dao makes this point explicit, so as to inform the worthy of later times.

“As a thing, the Dao is only hazy and only elusive.” The Dao is subtle and hard to see; it simply abides in a vague state that cannot be grasped. Yet within that haziness there is something real, and within the subtle there is also form. One must not slight the Dao merely because it cannot be seen. Within the Dao there is powerful Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy), and so the bellows and the keyhole are used as analogies.

“Within the profound and dark there is Jing (essence).” In the deep and obscure there is Jing-Qi. The Dao apportions Jing-Qi to the myriad things, and the Jing-Qi of all things issues from a single source. This Jing-Qi is genuine and not empty; it presides over life and death, and so it must be treasured and guarded.

“Within it there is trustworthiness.” Within it there is of itself a credible warrant. The immortals of antiquity cherished Jing-Qi and therefore lived on; people of today dissipate Jing-Qi and therefore die. This is conclusive evidence. Does merely gathering Jing-Qi bring long life? It does not. The various conditions of conduct must also be fulfilled. Jing-Qi is a kind of Qi differentiated from the Dao; once it enters the human body it becomes the root of life. Guarding a portion of Jing-Qi is precisely the essential point mentioned above.

To cherish Jing-Qi one must be furnished with every kind of good conduct, bring all good deeds to fulfillment, harmonize the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water—the five basic elements that constitute the myriad things), and remove the excesses of emotions such as joy and anger. The Celestial Offices (the bureaus of the heavenly realm) record a person’s good and evil. Only when accumulated goodness is more than sufficient can Jing-Qi be securely retained. Even if a wicked person deliberately cherishes Jing-Qi, the effort is suffering in vain: in the end it cannot be kept, and it will inevitably be dissipated.

The heart must handle all affairs according to proper measure, and for this reason it is called the “Bright Hall” (a symbol of the dwelling place of the heart and Shen). Within the human body there are three pathways, and the harmful influences of Yang Qi and Yin Qi are distributed among them; one must regulate the Qi of the Dao with a heart that is centered and upright. Jing-Qi is like the water of a pool, the body like the embankment of the pond, and good conduct like the source of the water. Only when all three are present is the pond whole and secure. If the heart is not devoted to good conduct, it is as though there were no embankment, and the water is bound to drain away. If good conduct is insufficiently accumulated, it is as though the source did not flow, and the pool is bound to dry up. If one lets the water run off to irrigate the fields and be drawn into channels, then even though the embankment remains, the source will be exhausted and the pond will at last stand empty. When the pond dries and cracks, the hundred illnesses arise together. If one is careless in all three respects, the body becomes like an empty pit.

“From antiquity down to the present, its name does not depart.” From ancient times to now there has been only this one Dao; the Dao has never left human beings.

“By this one surveys the many beginnings.” Through it the Dao passes through the beginning and the end of the myriad things. “Fu” means “beginning.”

“How do I know that the end and the beginning are thus? By this.” By what do I know that the ending and the beginning of the myriad things are both so? By this very Dao. And so it truly is.

“To yield is to preserve oneself” speaks of humility. The moon first turns from waning toward fullness, and those who study the Dao (the Way) must likewise go against common custom. At the moment they may seem to stand at a disadvantage, hardly worth mentioning, yet later they become manifest. “To accept being bent is to return to the straight”: here “accepting being bent” is also humility and yielding. After passing through twists and turns, one can return to the correct Way. Those who study the Dao go against common custom and toil alone in hardship. At the time they seem to have been wronged, yet later they finally enter the correct Way.

“The low-lying place can become full” speaks of modesty. In one’s conduct one does no evil, and one places oneself in emptiness. The Dao is like water: it prefers to flow toward empty places and to rest in low, inconspicuous spots. In this way one accords with the good Way. Qi (vital energy) gathers until it is abundant, and so one can be filled.

“What is worn out can be made new”: after things fall into decay, they change and are renewed. Even if those who study the Dao are for a time poor and hard-pressed, they later obtain new blessings.

“Take little and one can obtain; seek much and one instead becomes lost.” One farms with full effort and plants grain, taking only enough to supply oneself. Blessings granted by Heaven can be obtained without calculation. If desire is excessive and without limit, one may become lost, and the blessings will depart because of this.

“Therefore the sage holds to the ‘One’ as the standard for the world.” Here the “One” refers to the Dao. Laozi set forth these admonitions; the sage acts according to them, and this is holding to the Dao. He constantly teaches them to the people of the world as standards of conduct.

“Not regarding oneself as right, one can become manifest.” One who understands the principle gladly accepts admonition and also teaches others according to it. If someone is unwilling to accept it, one remains silent. Even if I consider him wrong, there is no need to argue with him.

“Not displaying oneself, one can see clearly.” The sage models himself on the Dao. Even when he has merit, he does not boast, nor does he flaunt his own De (Virtue/Power) and abilities.

“Not praising oneself, one can accomplish one’s work.” Evil conduct is like an axe chopping at oneself. The sage models himself on the Dao and does no evil; therefore he does not injure himself and is able to preserve his achievements.

“Not priding oneself, one can endure.” The sage models himself on the Dao, thinking only of continually accumulating good deeds so that life may be long. Those who seek the Way of long life, even if they suffer humiliation and live in poverty and hardship, should not harm themselves for the sake of vanity, still less pursue only fine clothes and rich food.

“Precisely because he does not contend, no one can contend with him.” The sage does not fight with ordinary people. When he meets with a dispute, he avoids it and goes far away. How then could ordinary people contend with him?

When the ancients said, “To yield is to preserve oneself,” was this empty talk? One should therefore know that after humility and yielding, one can in the end preserve oneself. Fearing that some might not understand these words, the text explains them once more.

“To speak sparingly is ziran” means that issuing few commands and intervening little accords with the Way of ziran (spontaneous naturalness). “Ziran” is the Dao (the Way). If one delights in clarity and stillness, speaks little, and has few desires, one can enter clarity and stillness; only by according with ziran can one endure.

“A violent wind does not last the morning; a sudden rain does not last the day”: a fierce wind cannot blow through an entire morning, nor can a torrential rain fall for a whole day. What goes against clarity, stillness, and ziran cannot last.

“Who brings this about for heaven and earth?” Here “who” means “what person.” The arising of violent wind and rain between heaven and earth warns people that these phenomena do not accord with the Dao, and so they cannot last. “Even heaven and earth cannot make them endure, still less can human beings”: if even between heaven and earth nothing violent can persist, then when people are forever busy with disturbing and restless affairs, scheming and calculating again and again, how can they endure?

“Therefore, one who engages in affairs and is obtained by the Dao”—here “and” is equivalent to “if.” If, in what one does, a person can make conduct accord with the Dao, the Dao will receive that person; this is to follow ziran. “One who is the same as De (Virtue/Power) is obtained by De”: when a person’s conduct accords with De, De receives that person. “Obtained in the same way” likewise means that when conduct accords with the Dao, the Dao receives, and when conduct accords with De, De receives. “One who is the same as loss is lost by the Dao”: if in acting a person does not revere the Dao’s admonitions and loses the Dao’s intent, the Dao will of itself depart from that person.

“When good faith is insufficient, there is a lack of trust.” This principle has already been stated above: if sincerity is insufficient, one loses the trust of others.

“One who pants does not last”: relying on hurried, gasping breath to move Qi (vital energy) does not accord with the Way of clarity and stillness, and cannot endure. “One who strides cannot go on”: to travel a thousand li, one must begin with a single step and accumulate gradually; advancing by great strides, one instead does not go far and cannot persist. “To display oneself is not to be clear-sighted; to deem oneself right is not to be manifest; to boast of oneself is to have no merit; to be self-important is not to last.” This explains once more the sense of what precedes: one who supposes that he sees clearly is instead not clear; one who supposes himself correct cannot instead be brought to light; one who praises himself instead has no achievement; and self-exaltation likewise cannot last.

“It lies with the Dao”: if one wishes to seek long life and good fortune, the essential point is to trust the Dao, keep the precepts, and keep faith, and not to repeat one’s faults. Offenses are recorded in the Tiancao (the institution in the celestial realm that keeps the registers and conducts judgment). Once guilt is determined, there is no escape, and it is not cancelled on account of other matters.

“Leftover food and vessels for sipping—things detest them.” What is said here is that leftover sacrificial food and sacrificial vessels are detested by all things. Those who practice the Dao obtain life; those who lose the Dao receive death. This is the proper law of the Dao of Heaven, and it is not altered by sacrifice, food offerings, and prayer. The Dao therefore prohibits such practices as sacrificial meals and prayer, holding that these acts bring still heavier punishment. The food and vessels used in sacrifice communicate with deviant matters, so those who possess the Dao are never willing to eat or use them.

“Therefore one who has the Dao does not dwell there”: those who possess the Dao do not place themselves amid sacrifice and prayer.

There is something undifferentiated and whole that already existed before Heaven and Earth appeared. Silent and standing alone, it does not change; it cycles on without cease and can serve as the root of all things under Heaven. I praise the loftiness of this nameless great Dao (the Way); it is indeed the root of all things under Heaven.

“I do not know what its name is, and can only force a name upon it and call it ‘Dao.’” Here the word “I” refers to the Dao. This once again extols the marvel of the Dao: it is hard to name it with accuracy, so it can only be called “Dao.” I also force a name upon it and call it “great,” meaning that the Dao is exceedingly vast. To say “force” is to worry that even this name is still not enough to manifest the De (Virtue/Power) of the Dao.

“When it is great, it will move and go far.” “Going” means departing. The Dao is exceedingly vast, and nothing is able to constrain it; therefore it is said that it can go far. “Going far, it reaches a distant place.” “Having reached that distant place, it returns.” The Dao can travel far away and can also return.

The Dao, Heaven, Earth, and life—these four are all called “great.” Which of the four is the greatest? The Dao is the greatest. “Return within the realm” also means that the Dao can travel far away and can return again. Of the four, which one is in the end the greatest? The Dao is the greatest.

“Within the realm there are four great things, and life occupies one place”: among Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things there are four great things, and among them there is only one root that enables the myriad things to live. “Life” is one concrete manifestation of the Dao.

“Human beings model themselves on Earth, Earth models itself on Heaven, Heaven models itself on the Dao, and the Dao models itself on ziran (what is so of itself).” “Ziran” and “Dao” differ in name but are the same in substance and nature. They take their model from one another, and in the end all take the Dao as their standard. Heaven and Earth are so vast, and yet they always live by following the Dao; how could human beings not revere the Dao?

The heavy is the root of the light, and stillness is the master of restlessness. Those who cultivate the Dao (the Way) should treasure their own spirit and take clarity and stillness as their foundation.

Thus the gentleman may travel all day and still never leave his baggage wagons (the carts that carry goods on a journey). The “baggage wagons” spoken of here mean the valuing of the spirit’s clarity and stillness; the gentleman should hold to this at all times and never depart from it.

Even when dwelling in splendid palaces and temples and receiving the respect of others, one should maintain clarity and stillness and observe the precepts of the Dao.

Why should one who is lord of ten thousand chariots (the Son of Heaven who commands ten thousand war chariots) treat the world lightly? The Son of Heaven holds authority over the multitude and should all the more stand in awe of Heaven and honor the Dao. If he mistakenly supposes that his exalted station means he need no longer revere the Way of Heaven, he is slighting his responsibility in the world.

Rashness loses the root, and restlessness loses the master. When one is rash and restless and often violates the measures of the Dao, one suffers punishment and disgrace, loses the foundation on which one stands, and loses one’s honored station.

Those skilled at walking leave no obvious tracks. Those who believe in the Dao (the Way) and practice goodness leave no traces of wrongdoing.

Those skilled at speaking say nothing flawed or faulty. If a person does not follow the Dao and speaks wickedly, Heaven will diminish his allotted blessings; but if one now believes in the Dao, speaks good words, and teaches others not to take the deviant path, there will be no fault.

Those skilled at planning need not use counting tallies to calculate. One who truly understands how things stand already has a clear reckoning in mind and need not rely on tallies. One who believes in the Dao with a true heart acts from utmost sincerity and needs no urging from others.

Those skilled at closing use no door bolt, yet no one can open them. In the human heart there are three forked paths; both Yang evil and Yin harm ought to be shut off so that they cannot take effect. Taking the Dao of centered uprightness as one’s standard and cutting off wicked thoughts with utmost sincerity, one will never be opened even without a bolt; one who is not sufficiently sincere may still be opened even with a bolt.

Those skilled at binding use no rope, yet no one can untie them. Once one has set one’s resolve on seeking long life, one ought to observe the precepts of the Dao. One who does this with utmost sincerity will not change even without the restraint of ropes; one who is not sufficiently sincere may still come undone even when bound with ropes.

Therefore the sage is always skilled at saving people and does not lightly abandon anyone. He constantly practices goodness; when he meets those who do evil he does not cast them aside, but goes to them in person to teach them and explain the precepts of the Dao. If that person in the end refuses to change, then nothing can be done.

The sage is likewise always skilled at saving the myriad things and does not abandon any of them; the meaning is the same as above.

This is called “inheriting illumination” (ximing), that is, constant clarity of understanding; to grasp this principle is truly to understand.

The good person is the teacher of those who are not good. Those who are not good follow the good person in learning to do good, so the good person can serve as their teacher; the good person does not learn how to do good from those who are not good.

Those who are not good serve as a cautionary mirror for the good person. The good person has no evil in himself and can precisely take the wicked as a warning; seeing that another’s wrongdoing is not to be adopted, the good person should all the more encourage himself.

Not to respect one’s teacher, and not to cherish the person who serves as a warning, is still a great delusion even though one knows the principle. If those who are not good do not respect the good, and if the good are unwilling to take warning from the wicked, both are in delusion.

This is called the crucial and subtle principle within it.

“Know the strong and masculine, yet hold to the soft and weak, and one can become the place to which all under Heaven return and on which they rely.” Here the word xi means “what,” and it also means the crucial point or the key. If one knows that the key lies in settling the spirit (Shen), one can grasp what is essential for all under Heaven.

“When constant De (Virtue/Power) is not lost, one returns to the state of an infant.” By concentrating and guarding the One, and by yielding to Wuwei (non-action), the Dao (the Way) and De can abide constantly, and a person can return to a pure simplicity like that of an infant.

“Know the bright, yet hold to the dark, and one can become the model for all under Heaven.” Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) are pure white, their color the same as that of primordial Qi, the original Qi of the beginning. Black belongs to Great Yin (Taiyin). In the human body, Taiyin corresponds to the kidneys, and Jing and Qi are stored in the kidneys. To remain quiet and keep this store, not recklessly expending Jing and Qi on what lies outside, is to “hold to the black,” and it may also serve as a model constantly practiced throughout the world.

“When constant De is not borrowed away, one returns to the Limitless (Wuji).” Those who know how to guard their Jing and Qi have De constantly with them and need not borrow it from others. What is borrowed must in the end be repaid; better to possess it oneself from the start. Practicing the Scripture of the Mysterious Woman, and the arts of the bedchamber of the sort associated with Master Gong and Rongcheng, is in every case an attempt to seek Jing and Qi from outside. Who is in a position to lend it to them? Thus in the end they never obtain it. Only by guarding it oneself, cutting off stray thoughts and gathering in the mind and Shen, can one reach the realm of the Limitless.

“Know glory, yet hold to disgrace, and one can become the valley of all under Heaven.” Where there is glory, there is also disgrace. Those who cultivate the Dao fear disgrace, and so they do not covet glory; they only turn heart and will toward the Dao and seek long life. This is like the valley waters of the world, which with a single mind flow east into the sea.

“When one becomes the valley of all under Heaven, constant De is then made full, and one returns to simplicity (Pu).” In resolving to seek the Dao, one should be like valley water returning with one mind to the sea; only then can the Dao and De be full. Pu refers to the fundamental Qi of the Dao. When a person cultivates the Dao and returns to Pu, that person can unite with the Dao.

“When Pu scatters, it becomes vessels and implements; the sage uses it to govern the multitude.” Once Pu is dispersed, it has left the Dao; therefore one should not let it scatter and be lost. The sage is able to keep Pu from scattering, and so can serve as a leader of officials, governing the people and bringing all under Heaven to peace.

“Therefore, the greatest governing is not to cut things apart.” Those who cultivate the Dao also know worldly affairs, high office and generous salary, splendid clothing, fine food and drink, and the savor of precious treasures, yet none of these can give a person long life. Long life is the greatest blessing. In order to hold to this root, the cultivator of the Dao restrains himself and does not let worldly affairs split the inner heart.

“Wanting to seize the world and keep it for oneself.” A presumptuous person who wishes to usurp the throne and kill the ruler will surely be slain by Heaven; such a thing must not be done. “I have seen it”—here the “I” refers to the Dao (the Way). The Dao sees those who are honored throughout the world, and knows as well that this is not something an ordinary person can do, and so does not dare to act rashly. Can a foolish person surpass the Dao? To force the attempt will surely bring disaster.

“Acting only when there is no alternative” means that a state cannot go a single day without a ruler. The Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) of the Five Emperors become manifest; the River Chart and the Luo Writing (legendary texts that display the Mandate of Heaven) leave their records; the Seven Lodges (the constellations in the heavens) display their Jing and Qi, and the Five Wefts (the five planets) converge. All of these are signs of having received the Mandate of Heaven. Can one who understands this surpass the Dao? To force the attempt will surely bring disaster. Therefore, only one who is commissioned by the Mandate of Heaven and must assume the throne acts because there is no alternative. Without an appointment from the world, one must not vainly hope to obtain the ruler’s place.

“The world is a sacred vessel; it cannot be forcibly governed or possessed. One who acts by force will fail, and one who insists on holding it will lose it.” Without a commission from the Mandate of Heaven, yet insisting on acting, one will in the end surely fail and lose everything. Of things, some advance and some follow; this is a natural resonance. Do good, and good results will follow; do evil, and harm will come along with it. Sometimes it is warm, like a gentle breath; sometimes it is cold, like a sharp blowing. Good and evil follow the same principle, and misfortune and good fortune are linked at the root. Even when warmth has been gained, one must be careful lest cold air be blown in again; when good fortune is obtained, one must likewise be careful, for calamity may arrive afterward.

“Some flourish; some decline.” After flourishing there must come decline, and after decline there may again come flourishing. One who first occupies a position of strength will later surely have a time of decline; one who cultivates the Dao starts from a low and weak place, and later is able instead to flourish.

“Some receive and carry on; some follow.” A person should regularly nurture body and mind on his own, taking the settling of Shen (spirit) as the foundation, and must not rely on others to support him. When the ruler of a state in crisis has loyal ministers to assist him, the state can continue; without such assistance, the state will perish. When a sick person has a physician come to treat him, if the illness cannot be controlled, he will die.

“Therefore the sage discards extremes, extravagance, and excess.” That is, he rejects excessive conduct, wicked deeds, and extravagant indulgence.

In governing the world, a ruler should assist it by means of the Dao (the Way), and not rely on military force to make a show of strength. A ruler who governs the state should devote himself to cultivating the Dao and De (Virtue/Power), and loyal ministers should likewise do their utmost to assist in carrying out the Way and what is right. When the Dao and De spread widely and fill the world, an age of peace will come. When officials and the people submit with willing hearts, the state is easy to govern; if everyone sincerely keeps faith with the Dao, all can enjoy long life and become immortals. Therefore one should not resort to arms in order to display strength.

Weapons are not auspicious implements. The Dao established weapons in order to overawe those who refuse to be transformed by teaching, yet people must not take warfare as a pleasure or give themselves wholly over to it. For this reason the Dao rejects the stellar officers associated with military affairs: constellations such as Kulou and Langhu should all be kept far away. The General and the Cavalry Officer should dwell outside the Fang lunar mansion, and the course of the Feng star should likewise be gentle and remain far from the pole. These sayings use the stars to express caution toward war. People ought only to put their faith in the Dao; as for schemes of military strategy, they should speak of them and employ them as little as possible.

“Affairs of war readily invite retribution.” If one settles matters by force and the casualties exceed due measure, calamity will return upon oneself and one’s descendants. “Where an army has encamped, thorns and brambles will grow.” The army of the Son of Heaven is called a shi. When the use of troops goes against the Dao and right conduct, wherever the army passes is filled with the Qi (vital energy) of killing; the people disappear, and only thorns remain.

Thus one who is skilled in the use of troops should stop once the aim is achieved, and not flaunt strength by force of arms. Guo means sincerity of heart. In doing good, one need only be sincere and exert oneself fully; one should not rely on an army’s wrongdoing in order to magnify oneself. Having sincerely kept to the good, one should not on that account look down on others, nor boast of oneself, still less set oneself up for display. Even when, sincerely keeping to the good, one is compelled to use troops, one must still refrain from a show of strength and from clinging to the awe of arms.

If at such a time one assists a sovereign in planning a war, troops may be sent forth only when there is no alternative. One must not take pleasure in war, still less treat armed force as the ordinary state of affairs or as a mark of might and flourishing. Fenghou’s assistance to the Yellow Emperor in attacking Chiyou, and Lü Wang’s assistance to King Wu in attacking Zhou of Shang, were both undertaken only because there was no other choice.

“When a thing becomes too strong, it ages; this is called not according with the Dao. What does not accord with the Dao comes to an early end.” One who has heard the Dao yet cannot practice it accordingly will move toward decline; if one still does not desist from this course, ruin will come all the sooner.

Fine weapons are inauspicious instruments, and the myriad things generally detest them; a person who possesses the Dao (the Way) will not treat them as something to rely on in daily life. Weapons are not what the Dao delights in, and a person who possesses the Dao will not rest content in the business of using arms.

In ordinary times the gentleman honors the left, but when using arms he honors the right. The distinction between left and right corresponds to the rites of celebration and of mourning. Weapons are inauspicious instruments, not instruments for a gentleman to use. Here it is stressed once again that resorting to arms is an inauspicious matter. Only when there is no alternative may weapons be employed; the previous chapter has already made this point.

Tranquil detachment is most precious, and so weapons are not praised. One who cultivates the Dao is tranquil and detached, and will not praise war. If one praises war, one comes to delight in using arms to kill; one who loves killing cannot achieve his aims in the world. This means that loving war and loving slaughter are both unacceptable.

Therefore, auspicious occasions honor the left, while mourning honors the right; the arrangement of left and right corresponds to the rites of good and ill fortune. Thus the deputy general stands on the left, and the supreme general stands on the right. The deputy general does not, as the supreme general does, exclusively hold the authority of killing, and so symbolizes the left; the supreme general exclusively holds the power of killing, and so symbolizes the right.

This is to say that one should treat war with the attitude proper to conducting a funeral. When many people have been killed, one ought to grieve and weep; even if victory is won, it should be handled according to funeral rites. If one must send out troops because there is no alternative, one should repeatedly proclaim the orders, thereby showing an intention to cherish life; one should also declare the admonition of the Dao, in the hope that the enemy will accept surrender. Toward those who refuse to submit, one should likewise feel pity and sorrow, as if someone in one’s own household had died, and not rejoice in a victory gained by killing.

“The Dao (the Way) is ever nameless” means that the Dao originally has no fixed name. To speak of it here as “great” is only to borrow the designation “great”; the substance of the Dao is subtle, hidden, and without form.

“Though the uncarved block is small, none in the world dares to subject it” means that the Dao appears minute, yet it is the root of all things under heaven, so no one is able to dominate it.

“If kings and lords can hold to it, the myriad things will of themselves submit” means that if kings and lords can preserve the Dao, the myriad things will naturally come into allegiance. One must not look down on the Dao merely because of one’s own exalted station; so long as one follows the Dao, the myriad things will of themselves return in submission.

“Heaven and Earth join together, and sweet dew descends” means that when the ruler practices the Dao, Heaven and Earth likewise become harmonious and pleased, and thus send down the grace that moistens and nourishes all things.

“The people, without being commanded, of themselves become even” means that without the need to issue orders, the common people can settle of themselves and harmonize with one another. When the ruler honors the Dao, officials and the people look up to it and emulate it; they stand in awe of the celestial spirits, dare not do wrong, and all hope to preserve themselves. Therefore, without relying on laws and decrees to press them, society can of itself tend toward balance.

“When institutions are first established, names arise” means that once systems of order are set up, all manner of names and designations appear. Those who cultivate the Dao seek to preserve life and do not covet honor and reputation. Kings and lords inherit the station and renown left by their ancestors; these were not obtained by their own forceful seeking. They ought to heed the teaching of the Dao, strive to revere the Dao and keep its precepts, and preserve themselves, and must not grow proud and self-satisfied.

“Names having already come to be, one should also know to stop” means that since kings and lords have already come into name and rank, they should understand moderation and know when to stop, and not further force their way toward a still higher and more exalted position.

“Knowing when to stop, one meets no danger” means that one who understands contentment and knows when to cease will not fall into peril.

“The Dao in the world may be compared to the relation of valley streams to the rivers and the sea” means that the Dao moves through the world just as the rivers and the sea are able to gather the many watercourses. If a person sets the heart wholly on the Dao, one ought to be like the flowing waters in the valleys, naturally tending toward the rivers and the sea.

“Understanding others” is called wisdom. After discerning others’ good and evil and whether their words and deeds accord with morality, the person who cultivates the Dao (the Way) should turn back and examine themselves, avoid the path that leads to death, and refrain from judging others. Only “understanding oneself” is called clear discernment; only this counts as truly understanding.

“Surpassing others” only shows that a person has strength. To surpass oneself by cultivating one’s own person, doing good and removing evil, is to be truly strong. “Knowing contentment” is wealth, and it also embodies the humility of which the Dao speaks.

“Pressing forward without cease” requires a firm resolve. The admonitions of the Dao are hard to carry out. Those who cultivate immortality can grasp and practice them by means of resolve, not by any technique.

“Only by keeping to one’s own station can one endure.” Whether rich and noble or poor and lowly, each should take keeping the Dao as the essential task. Those of utmost sincerity receive the protection of the Dao. The poor and lowly should not despise themselves and strain after wealth and rank. Not forcing such a pursuit is to hold to one’s own resolve, and therefore one can endure. There is another explanation: when joy and anger fall out of balance, the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) clash with one another and cause harm, so that a person falls ill or even dies. One need not wait until guilt has reached its full measure before disaster comes. One should now harmonize the Five Phases so that each rests in its proper place and none encroaches on another; in this way, too, one can endure.

“Only not perishing after death deserves to be called longevity.” When the cultivator of the Dao brings the practice to completion, the spirit of the Dao comes to abide with them. They withdraw from the secular world, die only in name, and dwell for a time in Taiyin (the dark realm); afterward they are reborn and depart. They are therefore not reckoned as having perished, and they can be long-lived. Worldly people who have accumulated no merit of good deeds fall, after death, under the Earth Official (the divine office that governs the dead), and are reckoned as truly perished.

The Great Dao (the Way) is vast without limit and can extend in all directions. “Fan” means vast. The Dao is exceedingly vast, yet it abides in softness and weakness and does not contend with people of the world. It teaches people to be cautious and to keep to themselves: one who understands caution and vigilance ought to hold the left tally (an ancient contract used as a credential and for verification); one who does not understand caution and vigilance sets the left tally aside.

“The myriad things rely on the Dao to come into being, yet the Dao does not refuse them, nor does it demand repayment of kindness from the myriad things.” The Dao does not prize gratitude. “When the work is accomplished, it does not claim it as its own; it nourishes the myriad things yet does not make itself their master.” Therefore it may be called minute. The Dao does not claim merit for itself and is often called minute.

“The myriad things turn and submit to the Dao, yet it does not treat the myriad things as its own possession.” Therefore it may be called great. “Gui” means to admire and turn toward. The Dao causes the myriad things to grow; it neither asks them to repay kindness nor claims to be their master, and so it can long preserve its vastness.

Therefore the sage never claims to be great, and is thereby able to accomplish greatness. Emulating the Dao, one first places oneself in the minute, and only afterward can one truly be vast. What is meant here by “the great one attains long life” is the capacity to endure for a long time, sharing the same span of life as the Dao.

“Hold the great image, and the world comes” means that when the ruler grasps upright norms and models himself on the Great Dao (the Way), the people of the world give their allegiance, and those near and far come in admiration. The Great Dao transforms and nurtures the myriad things, descending from on high and taking concrete form in the person of the ruler; thus the ruler’s station is exalted. The world cannot have two sovereigns, so the emperor should first practice the Great Dao and then extend it among officials and the common people. Practicing the Dao is not something only Daoist priests can do; if the ruler abandons the Great Dao, the governance of the world likewise loses its foundation.

A ruler of the highest wisdom takes the Great Dao as the standard by which to instruct and transform the people. That the world is well governed, that society is at peace, and that auspicious omens appear all depends on human accumulation and action, yet the root that allows these results to be realized lies in the Dao-ruler (the sovereign who practices the Great Dao).

A ruler of middling wisdom lacks sufficiently firm purpose and conviction, and in governing the state must still rely on worthy ministers to assist the sovereign and act according to principle. In this way the state may be preserved, yet it is hard to reach a condition of stability and ample ease. If the ruler labors over every affair, then once the worthy ministers depart the state may quickly fall into crisis, because the authority of governance does not rest in the ruler’s hands but depends on his ministers. If the way of governing runs contrary to the Great Dao, it is like water being unable to flow westward; even with worthy ministers, great order is often difficult to achieve.

Still more, some rulers let their ministers govern in confusion while they themselves avoid speaking of the Dao—not because they fail to cherish the true Jing (scripture/classic), but because they suppose that worldly methods can be maintained for long. If the ruler long sets the Great Dao aside, the Great Dao, exalted and numinous, will in the end not comply with human wishes; thereupon Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) fall into disorder, and calamities and anomalies arise one after another, thereby warning the world. Although the Great Dao remains hidden and does not display itself, when disaster and disorder reach their extreme they at last turn toward order, and the intent of the Dao will finally become manifest. Therefore emperors and ministers alike ought to observe these signs with care, diligence, and caution.

“Excellent, and doing no harm” means that when the ruler practices the Dao, the world gives its allegiance; the ruler, too, delights in practicing the Dao, knowing that the spirits (Shen) cannot be deceived. They revere the gods of Heaven and dare not do evil, not merely from fear of the law. That ministers are loyal and children filial all comes from the heart. Therefore royal law need no longer impose frequent restraints, and punishments may be put away; governance becomes easy, and the ruler is thereby at peace.

“Peace, stability, and great joy” refers precisely to the great ease and happiness that such governance brings.

“The halo and the passing guest come to rest” means that heavenly calamities and anomalous signs all cease. Halos of the sun and moon (rings of light encircling them), rebellious disorder among ministers, and disasters such as assassination and piercing-through are all results brought on by fault. When the five planets move in accord with their courses, the guest star no longer travels in retrograde and shines conspicuously, and the Qi of pestilence likewise ceases altogether.

“When the Dao speaks, it is bland and without flavor” means that what the Great Dao says runs contrary to the worldly and does not seek clever ornament; to ordinary people it seems plain and insipid. Yet within that plainness lies a profound significance that nourishes life, so the sage can apprehend and savor this flavor of “flavorlessness.”

“Look, and there is not enough to see; listen, and there is not enough to hear; use it, and it cannot be exhausted” means that the Great Dao esteems plain simplicity, and its words have nothing superfluous. When one looks upon what the Dao says and listens to the Dao’s admonitions, one may feel they are not striking enough and not pleasing enough to the ear, yet they are very hard truly to put into practice; once one can practice and apply them, the blessings obtained are without end.

Savor the flavor within what is “flavorless.” The Dao (the Way) may not look striking enough to the eye, nor sound pleasing enough to the ear, yet the work it actually performs is without end. The Dao prizes plain simplicity and does not rely on ornate wording. One should observe the teachings concerning the Dao and heed the admonitions concerning the Dao. At times it is not easy to see or to hear, and it is difficult to put into practice; yet if one can practice it and apply it, the blessings one obtains can be enjoyed without end.

“If one wishes to draw it in, one must first let it open out.” Good and evil follow the same pattern, and misfortune and fortune are joined at the root: what first spreads itself must later be drawn in. “If one wishes to weaken it, one must first let it grow strong.” What is first strong must later weaken. “If one wishes to cast it aside, one must first let it arise.” What first arises must later fall into decline. “If one wishes to take it away, one must first give it.” What is first gained must later be taken away. This is called “subtle illumination” (weiming)—discerning the pattern of affairs from faint signs. These four transformations are also four kinds of grievance and four kinds of harm. Only those who can understand them may be said to have a fine and discerning insight; to recognize this is to accord with the Dao.

Those who cultivate the Dao are wary of being drawn in, weakened, cast aside, and deprived. In their conduct, therefore, they first draw themselves in, remain humble and yielding, relinquish, and step back, and only afterward obtain good fortune. Worldly people, however, do not heed these admonitions. They first grasp at the advantages brought by expansion, by a show of strength, and by flourishing, and in the end they bring disaster upon themselves. Thus the scripture (Jing) admonishes people to know contentment and to know when to stop, so that in the world they act according to their capacity, think of bestowing benefits and dispersing wealth in order to remove misfortune, and do not dare to crave too much. Only by following the admonitions of the Dao can one long remain in good fortune and avoid disaster. If one cannot know when to stop or know contentment, the result will surely be the opposite. Those who cultivate the Dao should not slight these admonitions, for they truly contain the wisdom of discerning subtle matters.

“The soft and weak surpass the hard and strong.” The Qi (vital energy) of the Dao seems faint and weak, yet it can endure for a long time, and nothing can overpower it. Water embodies the softness and weakness of the Dao, and so it can wear away and pierce through cliff rock. Those who cultivate the Dao should take water as their model.

“A fish cannot leave the deep pool.” Admonition is like the deep pool, the Dao is like water, and the person is like the fish. If a fish leaves the deep pool and loses the water, it dies. If a person does not follow the admonitions and does not keep to the Dao, the Dao departs from that person, and the person likewise moves toward ruin.

“The sharp instruments of the state must not be shown to others.” What is meant here is that one should cherish Jing (essence) and Qi and not expend them, lest the work of cultivation suffer loss. There is another interpretation: those who cultivate the Dao would rather give to others than receive what others bestow; would rather yield to others than have others yield to them; would rather teach others to do good than wait for others to teach them; would rather bear the anger of others than provoke others to anger; and, when wealth and goods are apportioned, would rather give more to others than receive more of what others give. To do the reverse is to display one’s own “sharp instruments” for others to see.

“The Dao (the Way) constantly practices Wuwei (non-action), yet nothing is left undone.” The nature of the Dao is to do no evil, and therefore its wondrous working reaches everywhere. Those who cultivate the Dao should emulate this; only then can they become a beneficial standard for guiding others.

“If kings and lords can hold to it.” Although a king is exalted, he should always keep a heart of reverence and awe, observe the precepts of the Dao, and act accordingly.

“The myriad things will transform of themselves.” When the king governs by emulating the Dao, officials, the common people, and the many subjects will naturally be moved and transformed, and turn toward the Dao.

“Should transformation be about to arise, I will settle it with the nameless simplicity.” If things are about to stray from the correct path and turn toward deviance, what is deviant can also be restored to the correct path. After the king has governed by emulating the Dao and the people have all returned to the correct path, he should hold fast to that path and no longer allow them to turn toward deviance. When such a change is perceived to be about to occur, the Dao restrains and controls it. The “nameless simplicity” refers to the Dao that is nameless and Wuwei, plain and pure; it is used to discipline and instruct the multitude. The king should likewise emulate the Dao in restraining deviance. If this cannot be done, worldly custom will gradually turn toward deviance—this is the condition of the age of lower antiquity.

“The nameless simplicity will also be without desire.” Within the worldly realm the nature of the Dao has no desires, and the king should emulate it as well.

“Through desirelessness and stillness, Heaven and Earth set themselves right.” The Dao has always been without desire and delights in clarity and stillness, and so keeps Heaven and Earth constantly upright. Heaven and Earth are the subjects governed by the Dao; when the king emulates the Dao and observes its precepts, his ministers and subordinates will also return of themselves to what is correct.