《宋徽宗道德真經解義》Vol. 8

This passage elucidates the principles of "what is well established cannot be uprooted" and "what is firmly embraced cannot slip away." That which is skillfully established remains unshakable, like setting up the central and upright Dao (建中) in one's heart, which connects all dimensions and thus cannot be uprooted. If the mind becomes attached to biases, it loses this centeredness, whereas maintaining the Middle Way prevents deviation—this is true mastery of establishment, and thus it remains immovable.

That which is skillfully embraced never slips away, like holding fast to the pure and singular Dao (抱一) to respond to infinite changes. One who truly excels at embracing maintains the undivided Dao, pure and unadulterated, consistent from beginning to end, and thus can respond endlessly to transformations without ever losing grasp.

Those who establish this centeredness and embrace the undivided Dao influence not only the present moment and their own country but also extend their blessings to the world and future generations, leaving a lasting legacy. Their descendants will continue to honor them in unbroken rituals, receiving enduring blessings.

The passage then outlines the progressive stages of Dao cultivation: applying this principle to cultivate oneself results in genuine De (Virtue/Power); cultivating one's family leads to abundant De; cultivating the local community brings enduring De; cultivating the nation yields flourishing De; and cultivating the world results in universal De.

Commentary explains: Cultivating one's own De is the most authentic, as it applies the true essence of the Dao to self-refinement. Cultivating family and community produces abundant and enduring De by extending the residual influence of the Dao to teach others. Cultivating the nation and world brings flourishing and universal De by applying the branching aspects of the Dao to govern. The broader the scope of cultivation, the vaster the De becomes. The key lies in first cultivating authenticity within oneself, then extending it to family, community, nation, and world—naturally expanding the reach of De.

This passage discusses understanding others through self-observation, comprehending other households by observing one's own, grasping neighboring communities by studying one's village, and ultimately perceiving the world by examining the empire. Emperor Huizong of Song (Imperial Commentary) explains: The principles governing all things are contained within oneself - truth becomes clear through introspection, which brings supreme joy. Thus by beginning with self-observation, one can properly govern oneself, and by extension, govern the world. The world follows its natural patterns; observing according to these patterns enables proper governance.

Minister Cao Xiaobiao (Official Commentary) supplements: The world's principles follow fixed patterns, with each phenomenon having its limits. The truly enlightened remain free from selfish distractions. When observing oneself, focus remains on oneself; when observing households, focus stays on households - the same applies to villages, nations, and the world. Those who fail in this cannot be considered skilled observers.

How can one know the world's true nature? Precisely through this method. Emperor Huizong states: Mastering simple principles reveals the world's patterns. Cao explains: Understanding worldly patterns fundamentally depends on grasping the "Central Unity" (a core Daoist concept referring to the essence of Dao) - this constitutes the simple way, requiring only alignment with innate nature and adherence to natural laws.

Chapter 55 discusses "profound inner virtue" (hán dé zhī hòu). Those with profound virtue resemble newborn infants. Emperor Huizong notes: Humans are born with pristine simplicity but become altered by external influences. Those maintaining profound virtue remain unaffected, with unified spiritual focus. Mencius said: The virtuous never lose their childlike pure heart.

Cao explains: Human virtue is originally complete and pure, becoming shallow only through external influences. Only by forgetting both self and external things, maintaining profound virtue with undepleted vital essence (Jing) and undivided spirit (Shen), can one return to the state of no-knowledge and no-desire, with a mind pure as an infant's.

Such people remain unharmed - venomous insects won't sting them, fierce beasts won't attack them, birds of prey won't strike them. Emperor Huizong quotes Zhuangzi: Those with profound virtue cannot be penetrated by worries or invaded by evil Qi, thus external things cannot harm them. Cao states: Those like infants possess abundant Jing and stable Shen, with minds empty of fear - therefore external things cannot harm them.

Though their bones seem weak and muscles soft, their grip remains firm; though ignorant of sexual union, their organs naturally respond - this demonstrates supreme abundance of Jing. Emperor Huizong explains: Those with complete virtue possess complete form, appearing weak yet strong in grip; those with complete form possess complete spirit, ignorant of sexuality yet abundant in Jing. Zhuangzi said: The sage treasures the nourishment of Jing above all.

This passage describes the state of complete harmony among Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) in Daoist cultivation. When a person's De (Virtue) is perfected, their primordial Qi becomes abundant; abundant Qi leads to flourishing Shen; and flourishing Shen naturally results in a sound physical form.

Those with perfected Shen remain unbound by material constraints because their Qi transforms spontaneously. Like infants whose bones are soft yet grip is firm—their Qi remains undisturbed by external influences, preserving the purity of Jing. Though unaware of sexual matters, infants exhibit natural physiological responses; they cry all day without hoarseness, demonstrating supreme harmony.

Commentary explains: Focusing and maintaining unity is called "Jing." When Jing is sufficient, De becomes complete without Shen being depleted. The harmonious blending of Yin-Yang energies brings plenitude of Qi and freedom from hoarseness. At birth, innate Jing originates from "Heaven's First Water" (cosmic source), the wellspring of wisdom; harmonious Qi arises from balanced Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), the root of integrity. At its ultimate state, one communicates with the divine and returns to life's origin. Those who lose childlike purity find their Jing-Qi unstable and uncontained, their Qi turbulent and impure, indulging body and mind in worldly attachments—a pitiable state.

Infants interact physically with the world while maintaining inner purity and stillness. Their vocalizations and breath movements are spontaneous, not mind-driven. Preserving Jing's purity and Qi's serenity, their Shen remains undiminished and voices unbroken. This mystical state connects with the divine; in ordinary circumstances, it returns to life's source—the pinnacle of harmony.

Understanding harmony's principle is called "Chang" (eternal law). Guarding authentic Qi lets destiny be internally mastered—physical forms change but intrinsic nature endures. "Chang" signifies the truest, most constant state, forever unchanging. Though forms vary, nature remains singular. Maintaining Qi's purity and supreme harmony (Taiji), recognizing harmony's immutability—this is why it's called "Chang."

Comprehending eternal law is called "Ming" (wisdom). True Daoist insight comes from knowing nature's indestructible constancy. Realizing nature neither changes nor perishes demonstrates genuine understanding of the Dao.

Excessive life-nourishment is called "Xiang" (omen). This portends transformation—life's principles are already complete; forced additions become superfluous, with uncertain fortune. Why embellish what's inherently whole? Such artificial excess merely signals unpredictable outcomes.

Mind-driven Qi is called "Qiang" (forcing). When body and mind unite, mind and Qi harmonize, Qi flows smoothly without turbulence. Panting during hurried walking reveals mind compelling Qi—this is forcing.

This passage elucidates the core Daoist concept of "governing through non-action (Wuwei)." In modern terms:

Forcing opposition against external forces is not the true path to self-transcendence. When the human mind returns to a state of emptiness, the vital essence (Jing) and energy (Qi) naturally maintain harmony. If one deliberately tries to control them through willpower, it instead leads to chaotic energy flow. Just as all things decline after reaching their peak, excessive striving inherently contradicts the fundamental nature of the Dao.

The Dao itself is eternal and unchanging, yet all phenomena follow cycles of growth and decay. Whatever is bound by time and natural laws cannot represent the true Dao. Those who have attained the Dao remain like infants—their inner purity remains unaffected by external changes. Those who violate the Dao may appear strong outwardly, but have already lost life's true essence in reality.

Those who truly understand the Dao don't engage in empty talk, while those who constantly discuss the Dao usually don't genuinely comprehend it. Like when the ancient sage Wang Ni responded to Nie Que's questions by saying "I don't know" four times—because the Dao cannot be fully expressed through language, and what can be spoken only captures superficial aspects.

The key to cultivating the Dao lies in: closing the gates of sensory desires ("blocking the openings"), maintaining inner focus without external distraction ("shutting the doors"), thereby returning to intrinsic tranquility. Blunting sharp edges ("dulling their sharpness"), resolving complications ("untying their tangles"), taking profundity as foundation and simplicity as principle. Internalizing radiance ("harmonizing their light"), coexisting harmoniously with all things ("mixing with the dust"), flowing naturally like water following its course.

This state is called "Mysterious Unity (Xuantong)"—returning to the most profound origin of the Dao ("mystery"), achieving fundamental oneness with all existence ("unity"). Upon reaching this realm, one no longer deliberately distinguishes between intimacy and distance, nobility and baseness, but merges completely with the entire cosmos.

This scripture primarily discusses the art of governance and philosophy of life. Emperor Huizong of Song and his minister Yi elucidate the teachings of the Daode Jing through their dialogue.

First, it explains that truly transcendent individuals can attain the state of "mysterious unity" (xuantong), the supreme realm of oneness with the Dao, surpassing distinctions of closeness and distance, profit and harm, nobility and baseness. Ordinary people, due to their conflicting affections and aversions, create divisions of intimacy and estrangement; because of selfish thoughts, they calculate gains and losses; and through weighing advantages and disadvantages, they differentiate between high and low status. However, those who understand the great Dao can forget these distinctions and preserve the purity of their innate nature—this is the most precious quality in the world.

Regarding the art of governance, three methods are proposed: governing the state with upright principles (zheng), commanding the military with strategic ingenuity (qi), and winning the world through wuwei (non-interference). Upright governance represents the constant norm of the Dao, strategic ingenuity reflects its adaptability, and wuwei embodies its true essence. The state is stabilized by upright governance, war is won through strategic ingenuity, and ruling the world depends on following nature and refraining from forced action.

Why is this so? Because when prohibitions in the world become excessive, the people only grow poorer. If rulers lack genuine care for the people and merely impose numerous restrictions, the people will become displaced and destitute. Excessive prohibitions lead to cumbersome decrees, burdening the people with legal constraints that prevent them from working peacefully, ultimately resulting in social unrest and widespread poverty.

Here, it particularly emphasizes that truly wise rulers should be like those who hold a debt contract but do not pursue repayment (zhi zuoqi), allowing the world to submit naturally through wuwei.

This passage discusses the art of governance, with its core philosophy being that rulers should govern through Wuwei (non-action). When people excessively pursue clever tactics, the nation falls into chaos. Here, "sharp tools" refer to political stratagems, while "calculating minds" denote scheming intentions. If rulers consistently employ manipulative methods to govern, the people will lose their innate simplicity and begin deceiving and currying favor with one another.

When society becomes obsessed with exotic crafts and extravagant ingenuity, it corrupts moral customs. For instance, when people pursue flashy but impractical skills or create bizarre and unusual objects, it leads to a culture of superficiality. Overly harsh and complex laws often produce the opposite effect, resulting in more thieves and bandits. This occurs because when regulations become too numerous and restrictions too severe, the people lose all restraint and dare to commit all manner of misdeeds.

Therefore, the sages advocate governing through Wuwei: Heaven maintains its clarity through non-action, Earth preserves its tranquility through non-action. The sages emulate Heaven and Earth, avoiding deliberate interference, and the people naturally incline toward goodness. Just as still water naturally reflects the forms of objects without needing measuring tools, so too when rulers maintain serenity, the people naturally become upright; when the people are not harassed, they naturally prosper; when desires are absent, the people retain their simple nature. By not excessively honoring the worthy, competition is avoided; by not valuing rare goods, theft is prevented—thus the people can preserve their natural disposition.

This passage presents a Song dynasty minister's commentary on Chapter 58 of the Daode Jing, focusing on governance principles and the interdependence of fortune and misfortune.

Regarding statecraft, the text contrasts two governing approaches. The first is "unobtrusive governance" (闷闷之政), where rulers practice Wuwei (non-action), avoiding excessive intervention and allowing people to develop naturally. This preserves the populace's innate simplicity and reduces selfish desires, fostering social harmony. The opposite is "meticulous governance" (察察之政), where rulers scrutinize every detail like counting rice grains or sorting hairs. This seemingly thorough approach ironically breeds hypocrisy and cunning among the people, eroding their fundamental integrity.

On fortune and misfortune, the commentary elaborates Laozi's teaching that "disaster hides within good fortune, and good fortune lurks within disaster." These opposites constantly transform into each other in endless cycles—just as light emerges from darkness and form arises from formlessness, human wisdom often grows through adversity. Since fortune and misfortune lack fixed standards, the wise understand this principle and thus face life's fluctuations with equanimity.

Finally, the text examines the relativity of "righteousness" and "evil." The author argues that judging by personal standards makes those who share one's views seem "righteous," yet this cannot establish universal criteria. Similarly, judgments based on opposing views prove equally unreliable. Therefore, absolute standards of righteousness don't exist—the ultimate righteousness (至正) transcends personal positions to align with the natural Dao.

This commentary embodies core Daoist political philosophy: advocating Wuwei governance while opposing excessive control; emphasizing the dialectical transformation between opposites; and rejecting absolutist value judgments. The perspective reflects profound Daoist insights into statecraft and the nature of existence.

This scripture discusses the relativity of things and the limitations of human perception. Opposing concepts like beauty and ugliness, normalcy and strangeness, good and calamity all originate from the primordial chaos of the Dao (the Way), making them difficult for people to truly distinguish. Fortune and misfortune transform into each other without absolute standards, yet ordinary people stubbornly cling to judgments of right and wrong—this confusion has persisted since ancient times.

Emperor Huizong of Song (Northern Song dynasty) comments: All things in heaven and earth are composed of the same Qi (vital energy). What's considered correct today may become wrong tomorrow. The miraculous and the rotten transform mutually, while the shifts between righteousness and evil, good and bad, all follow the natural movement of Qi. People, long blinded by selfish desires, fail to understand how fortune and misfortune intertwine. When rulers govern with harsh laws, how can the common people return to their original purity?

Minister Chen Jingyuan further explains: People create artificial oppositions between virtue and vice, good and evil—all stemming from deluded thoughts. Having lost their true nature for so long, they cannot return to the root, only chasing superficial blessings. If rulers obstinately demand everyone conform to their so-called "righteous path," how could this ever be achieved?

Therefore, the sage (one who has realized the Dao) embodies this approach to life: being principled yet not dividing the world ("square without cutting"), maintaining integrity while harmonizing with all things; being incorruptible without harming others ("sharp without piercing"), preserving purity while embracing all existence; being upright without excess, radiant without being dazzling. True righteousness appears flexible ("great straightness seems crooked"), able to adapt to circumstances without losing the heart of the Dao.

The text provides two negative examples: Zimo (Mozi) excessively emphasized the middle way, while Chen Zhongzi (a Qi state hermit) pursued austerity to extremes. They only knew how to reveal but not withdraw, to display but not contain. Such rigid approaches ultimately lose the holistic wisdom that sages embody.

This scripture expounds the principles of cultivating body-mind and aligning with the Dao (the Way). "Being rigidly upright yet unrestrained" warns that excessive rigidity and indulgence creates an aloof demeanor that looks down upon those less righteous. The truly cultivated person withdraws their radiance (refraining from deliberate displays of wisdom), blends with the mundane world without conforming to vulgar customs, and never flaunts external brilliance. To be upright without excess, luminous without glaring—this constitutes the sage's proper method for governing the world.

Chapter 59 states: "In governing people and serving Heaven, nothing surpasses frugality (se)." Emperor Huizong of Song's commentary explains: Human intelligence originates from heavenly endowment, while daily actions and thoughts belong to human effort. Regulating behavioral rhythms and reducing mental burdens constitutes "governing people"; not overusing innate intelligence constitutes "serving Heaven"—this is the true meaning of "frugality" (restraint and moderation). Just as the kidneys store Jing (essence), guarding the root without leakage ensures abundant wisdom, enabling both proper human affairs and harmony with heavenly principles.

The minister supplements: Excessive activity harms the body; overthinking depletes Shen (spirit). By not overusing intelligence, one prevents spiritual dissipation. Sages achieve balanced movement-stillness and effortless contemplation precisely because they know to restrain cleverness, forget artifice, and unite with the Dao. This profound "frugality" remains deeply concealed yet firmly enduring.

The text continues: "Only through frugality can one return early [to the root]." Commentary clarifies: Returning after losing one's way is too late; restraint prevents wasting innate nature, enabling timely return. The minister adds: Frugality preserves Shen without waste, hence facilitating early return.

"Early return is called accumulating De (Virtue/Power) abundantly." Commentary states returning to one's root is De's foundation—conscious return allows the inner Dao to accumulate and renew daily. The minister explains: Conscious return builds De within; the earlier the return, the deeper the accumulation.

"Abundant De accumulation makes one invincible." Commentary defines "overcoming" all obstacles—only De can master all things and command beings without hindrance. The minister elaborates: The thicker De accumulates, the more it overcomes selfish desires to reach self-forgetting; forgetting self leads to forgetting objects; when both are forgotten, nothing remains impossible.

When one's moral cultivation reaches the state of all-encompassing capacity, one can respond universally to all things without limitation—who could fathom its ultimate extent? This occurs precisely because one has transcended the attachments of subject-object distinctions. When both self and objects are forgotten and return to the root of emptiness, naturally no boundaries can be measured.

Those who can comprehend the boundless Dao find governing the world to be more than sufficient, let alone ruling a single state. Only those who fully grasp the Dao and preserve their spiritual essence can reach the supreme state of harmonizing human affairs with heavenly principles.

Governing a state requires grasping the fundamental Dao (the "mother" refers to root principles). The Dao is the origin of all things—mastering it ensures perpetual freedom from harm. The so-called root of governance is precisely this eternal, unchanging Dao, which therefore enables lasting stability.

This is the principle of deep-rootedness and enduring vision. The Dao resembles the mother of all things, while phenomena are her children; one's innate nature is the root of physical form, while the body is its branches. Understanding phenomena while preserving the root ensures lifelong freedom from peril. Deep roots yield luxuriant foliage; returning to one's nature makes the body whole. Sharing longevity with heaven and earth enables true endurance; sharing radiance with sun and moon brings lasting vision. While the myriad things transform, one alone remains—this is the realm of the great Dao.

Returning to the nature of Dao makes one's foundation profound; when the body follows the Dao, its branches grow sturdy. Shallow roots cannot preserve essential Qi; incomplete Qi destabilizes the spirit; an unsettled spirit leads to bodily dissolution. Therefore, only with deep roots can one achieve enduring vision and perpetual existence.

Governing a great state is like cooking small fish (where "small fish" represents delicate matters). Managing multitudes through frequent changes invites failure; constantly moving precious vessels risks damage; over-stirring small fish makes them crumble. The Dao of governance values stillness and Wuwei (non-action), whereby people naturally settle. Cooking fish requires letting them mature naturally without forced interference. The sage governs through Wuwei, allowing all things to develop spontaneously, just like cooking fish.

When governing the world with the great Dao, even spirits and deities cease displaying miracles ("not divine" means not manifesting supernatural powers). The sage is the master of deities, common people, and all things—when compelled to govern the world, the optimal method is Wuwei. The Dao is eternally non-acting; governing the world with this attitude of non-interference is most appropriate.

When the Dao (the fundamental concept of Daoism, referring to the natural order) governs the world, the people naturally live in peace and prosperity, and all things dependent on humanity find their proper place. When everything returns to tranquility, there will be no disturbances from abnormal phenomena. Thus, it is said that in such times, even ghosts and spirits lose their efficacy.

Minister Cui Yi explains: If rulers do not govern with the Dao, people will be controlled by selfish desires and wicked thoughts. This disrupts the balance of Yin-Yang, allowing ghosts and spirits to stir up trouble. Conversely, when the Dao governs the state, heaven and earth are clear and peaceful, human affairs proceed harmoniously, and even ghosts and spirits remain subdued. Because upright Qi prevails, ghosts and spirits cannot manifest their power.

This does not mean that ghosts and spirits truly lose their efficacy, but rather that their influence no longer harms the people. Not only do ghosts and spirits refrain from harming people, but sages (those who have attained the Dao) also do no harm. When neither side harms the other, their virtues naturally merge and flourish.

Emperor Huizong of the Song Dynasty annotates: Those who govern the world with the Dao appear to practice Wuwei (non-action), yet everything is accomplished naturally. Without wars or disasters, and without the need for harsh punishments, this is what it means not to harm the people. In such times, spirits and people do not interfere with each other, and virtuous qualities naturally blend. The spirits no longer bring calamities but only bestow blessings; the people, free from cunning schemes, live in contentment—how could there be any harm?

Cui Yi further elaborates: If rulers act forcefully and arbitrarily, enacting complex laws, imposing heavy taxes and punishments, or recklessly waging wars, leading to abandoned fields and suffering among the people, it is the rulers themselves who harm the populace. Governing with the Dao does not harm the people—it follows the innate nature of all things, preserving the harmony of Yin-Yang, allowing all good things to develop naturally and orderly, with Qi flowing in resonance with heaven and earth. How, then, could spirits possibly harm people? They would only bestow blessings. When this state is achieved, humans and spirits mutually submit to virtue without harming one another—this is the highest ideal of governance.