《道德真經疏義(一)》Vol. 10

The sage's mind is like a mirror, capable of reflecting all things with perfect clarity. Their inner being remains empty and tranquil, allowing them to embrace all movements and transformations. Just as a mirror doesn't actively choose what to reflect, or a valley doesn't select which echoes to return, the sage's heart remains open and inclusive, free from fixed preconceptions. This "absence of constant mind" isn't capriciousness, but rather a transcendence of worldly discrimination and attachment.

The text quotes Zhuangzi's observation that although common people may occupy humble positions, the sage must accord with the people's will. This is because the Dao of Heaven observes through the people's eyes and ears, and manifests through their feelings. The sage emulates the Dao of Heaven, thus taking the people's heart as their own heart.

To the virtuous, the sage responds with virtue; to those lacking virtue, the sage equally responds with virtue - this constitutes true "De-virtue." To the trustworthy, the sage extends trust; to the untrustworthy, the sage equally extends trust - this constitutes true "De-trust." Ordinary people constantly distinguish between good and evil, truth and falsehood, but those who have attained the Dao transcend such dualistic oppositions, reaching a higher state of being.

Here we see how a person of perfect virtue (De) acts—like Emperor Shun who treated his brother Xiang with genuine trust and affection.

In the mundane world, right and wrong, good and evil often stand in opposition: people attack each other with words, suppress one another with force, and mock each other's falsehoods while boasting of their own sincerity. In truth, good and evil cannot coexist—when falsehood is stripped away, true nature is revealed, and deception and sincerity cannot exist simultaneously. This is the natural order of things. Yet worldly people often cling to appearances without probing the essence, fixating on particulars without contemplating the root. They love what pleases them and despise what displeases them; they reject views that differ from theirs while praising those that align with their own. How can such rigid partiality, ignorant of the greater Dao, be considered true virtue?

The sage perceives the myriad phenomena of the world through the lens of true nature, observing all equally without discrimination. To them, good and bad, sincerity and deceit are ultimately indistinguishable—they see all actions as inherently good, so even what appears bad is regarded as good, for they understand that good and evil are ultimately illusory; they see all emotions as fundamentally real, so even what seems false is accepted as true, for they know that truth and falsehood are ultimately one. Reality and illusion merge into singular truth, transcending dualities so that right and wrong no longer oppose each other. In this state of unified perception, all goodness and sincerity arise from innate virtue (De), entirely distinct from the conventional notions of good and trustworthy. This is why Shun could sincerely love his brother Xiang—it was no pretense. Thus, the sage never presumes others to be insincere.

When governing the world, the sage remains reverent and cautious, treating all with undivided awareness. As Emperor Huizong of Song commented: "The sage shares joys and sorrows with the people, maintaining vigilance even without fixed preconceptions." They are stern with themselves, never lax, while viewing the world with equanimity—seeing good and bad, sincerity and deceit as one, rising above judgments to preserve a mind of pure unity.

To truly grasp this principle and discern clearly is the sage's work of self-cultivation; to awaken to it and embody it completely is the sage's way of engaging with the world. Thus, sages are strict with themselves yet lenient with others. When governing, they share the people's burdens, ever watchful and prudent in action. Though free from bias, they never act carelessly.

This passage discusses the relationship between sages and the common people, as well as the principles of heavenly Dao (the Way) in operation.

When handling worldly affairs, sages do not deliberately distinguish between beauty and ugliness, good and evil, nor do they cling to judgments of right and wrong. They regard all things in the world as equal, harmonizing seemingly contradictory matters. The sage's mind is unified and undivided, not deliberately seeking praise, treating the people like children.

Though Heaven (Tian) resides in lofty heights, it perceives the subtlest matters in the world. The heavenly Dao itself has no selfish intent, but manifests its will through all things. Therefore, when sages govern the world, they do not observe with their own eyes but see through the people's vision; they do not listen with their own ears but hear through the people's hearing. Sages emulate Heaven's wisdom, making the people's hearts their own.

Just as all creatures with eyes can see the light when the sun rises in the east, when sages take action, the people naturally pay attention. The people revere sages as parents, while sages care for the people as parents cherish their children, fearing only that their love and protection might be insufficient. This profound virtue of benevolence permeates the entire world.

The chapter on "emerging into life and entering death" explains the principle of all things' birth and demise. The appearance and disappearance of all things manifest natural law. The birth of life marks the beginning of Heaven and Earth's creative work, while death represents the inevitable transformation of Yin-Yang. Like the operation of a loom, the birth and death of all things reveal the natural workings of heavenly mechanism (Tianji) - life and death are inherently two aspects of one natural process.

(Note: "Heavenly mechanism" refers to the mysterious laws of natural operation; "Yin..." )

This passage elucidates the profound principles of life and death transformation in the Daodejing. All things emerge from "non-being" (wu), reach their zenith, and ultimately return to "non-being." This cyclical process of mutual generation between being and non-being operates like a cosmic mechanism, revolving naturally in perpetual motion.

The gathering and dispersion of all phenomena, the diverse forms of birds and beasts—all arise through this principle. Everything originates from this celestial mechanism (tianji) and ultimately returns to it. The emergence and development of things resemble galloping steeds, never ceasing their transformation. The process from "non-being" to "being" unfolds as: emptiness transforms into spirit (shen), spirit transforms into qi (vital energy), and qi transforms into physical form—this celestial mechanism naturally unfolds, giving birth to life. Conversely, the return from "being" to "non-being" occurs as: form reverts to qi, qi reverts to shen, and shen returns to emptiness—the celestial mechanism naturally ceases, coinciding with death's disappearance.

The beginning of life marks the commencement of death, while death's conclusion heralds life's renewal. What perishes here may well be reborn elsewhere. The cycle of life and death continues endlessly, its patterns beyond calculation. Life represents creation's inception, while death signifies the transformation of yin and yang. The so-called inception of creation refers to the condensation of jing (essence) and qi into matter; the transformation of yin and yang denotes the dispersal of wandering souls.

Regarding "three out of ten belong to life, three to death": those who accompany life and death, moving between these states, ultimately struggle to escape this entanglement. When the great Dao (Dao) becomes obscured, it fragments into divergent paths. Those clinging to life become trapped by physical form, unaware their bodies aren't truly their own—thus they're deluded by the Dao's movement, relying on flourishing yang qi to become life's followers. Those pursuing stillness forget their own existence yet remain ignorant of formless reality—thus they drown in the Dao's stillness, stagnating in desiccation as death's adherents.

These companions of life and death remain ensnared in the mechanism of coming and going, unable to free themselves from life-and-death burdens—none embody the complete Dao. Numbers begin at one, establish at two, and complete at three. Heaven and earth combined make ten—three completes the numerical sequence, ten fulfills its perfection. Companions of life and death each pursue their desires, forming their own ways. Summarized numerically: three out of ten illustrates how those trapped in life-and-death mechanisms ultimately cannot escape yin-yang's predetermined patterns.

Ordinary people crave life yet fear death, contradicting heavenly principle; some forget life itself while chasing profit. While still living, they're already marching toward death—how does such existence differ from dying?

This passage examines contrasting attitudes toward life and their consequences, with its core thesis being that both excessive attachment to life and complete disregard for it are misguided. Those who truly understand the Dao of life transcend the duality of life and death.

The original text observes that those obsessively clinging to life actually violate natural law—while their bodies persist, their spirit has already perished. Conversely, those who completely neglect life may harm themselves for material gain. Ordinary people often oscillate between these extremes: either trembling with fear of death, or recklessly squandering life for profit, groping toward mortality like blind men examining an elephant. Zhuangzi termed such people "xiaoren" (deluded persons), while Yang Zhu called them "yeren" (those dwelling in darkness)—their living and dying become indistinguishable.

Emperor Huizong of Song's commentary adds: Those craving life become burdened by it, while those courting death neglect their physical form—both paths lead to ruin. Ancient Daoist adepts remained untroubled by wealth or poverty, neither rejoicing at longevity nor lamenting early demise. Having perceived life and death's essential nature, they transcended these boundaries.

The text concludes that people fail to comprehend the Great Dao because the clever overreach (clinging to life) while the foolish fall short (despising life). These two types each grasp one extreme: life-cravers exhaust their bodies in sensual indulgence, while life-despisers neglect their form in pursuit of annihilation. Like those who disregard Heaven's majesty, both ultimately harm their vitality—internally suffering the erosion of imbalanced yin-yang energies, externally facing punishment by instruments of torture. Such is the fate of the unenlightened.

(Note: "Xiaoren" refers to ignorant, confused individuals; "Huizong" denotes Emperor Huizong of Song, who authored a commentary on the Daode Jing; "Hengyang" indicates ancient torture devices; "Morning illumination beholding the solitary" is a Zhuangzian term describing the enlightened state of sudden awakening.)

This scripture explores the principles of transcending life and death while avoiding calamities through cultivating the Dao (the Way).

Those who suffer punishments or imprisonment all fail to recognize that the body is life's greatest burden, and that existence is finite, yet they excessively pursue material pleasures. The ancient Dao-realized sages were different—they understood that material excess harms life, thus when wealthy they avoided luxurious indulgences that damage vitality; they recognized that some people are physically alive but spiritually dead, thus in poverty they refused to let profit encumber their bodies.

True Dao practitioners penetrate the essence of life and death, neither coveting longevity nor fearing early demise. They stand transcendent above all phenomena, unbound by external things, nearly attaining the state of existing before heaven and earth and persisting after their dissolution, eternally present throughout past and present. This is what Zhuangzi called the "dawn illumination of solitary transcendence"—when one thoroughly comprehends truth, they surpass temporal limitations to enter the deathless and birthless state.

Those skilled in nurturing life walk on land without encountering rhinos or tigers, and enter battlefields without suffering weapon wounds. Why? Because they create no dangerous circumstances for themselves. As Emperor Huizong of Song annotated: Those adept at life cultivation maintain whole bodies and abundant Qi (vital energy), united with the Dao of heaven. Their Shen (spirit) remains complete—they can dive without drowning, tread fire without burning, walk above all things without fear, thus external phenomena cannot harm them.

The Book of Changes states that those who comprehend the Dao of day-night transformations and perceive the mysteries of life and death remain unharmed by all phenomena. Only the perfected ones (Dao-realized beings) attain this state. They transcend physical limitations, understanding that form originates from formlessness; they preserve Jing (essence) without dissipation, making their Qi increasingly abundant. With undamaged form and undispersed Qi, they shed artificial falsity to unite with natural heavenly Dao. At this stage, who can distinguish heaven from human? This is the state of unity with the Dao.

This passage describes the realm of attained cultivation. When a person can maintain the integrity of their innate nature (tianshou quan) and gather their spirit inward (tuque shou shen), their mental energy will not dissipate (shen wu que). Such a person can move unseen through the world without obstruction (qianxing bu zhi), as material barriers cannot hinder them; they can tread on fire without feeling heat (daohuo bu re), as flames cannot harm them; and they can walk atop all things without trembling (xing hu wanwu zhi shang er bu li), as heights cannot make them feel danger.

Emotions like life and death, fear and alarm cannot disturb their heart (sisheng jingju buru hu xiongzhong), so they encounter all things without dread (gu yuwu er bu she). External things cannot harm them—even without encountering rhinos or tigers (sihu), wild beasts cannot injure them; without wearing armor (bu bei jiabing), blades cannot wound them. As the Yijing says: "One who comprehends the Dao of day and night (tong hu zhouye zhi dao) understands the principles of Yin-Yang transformation."

The owl (xiao) sees clearly at night but is blind by day, while the rooster is alert by day but cannot see at night. This is not because day and night themselves differ, but because these creatures fail to grasp the Dao of their alternation. All who cling to specific phenomena without understanding the greater Dao are like this. Only the perfected person (zhiren) can perceive the patterns of all things, transcend the bonds of life and death, and commune with the Creator. Thus they can guide all things without being constrained, govern all things without being controlled, and remain pure even after ten thousand years. How could life and death become burdens? This is what is meant by "having no land of death."

Chapter 51 speaks of "the Dao gives them life": the Dao appears to act through non-action (wuwei), yet accomplishes all things (wu bu wei). Emperor Huizong of Song comments: "The exuberant growth of all things (zhizhi) springs from the Dao's non-action." The Yijing states: "Quiet and unmoving, yet when stimulated, it penetrates all things." The stillness is the Dao's substance (ti), manifesting as non-action; the responsive penetration is its function (yong), manifesting as omnipotent action. Though the myriad things are numerous, tracing their origin, all come from the Dao. Zhuangzi says the two energies of Yin-Yang (liangyi) unite through non-action to transform and generate all things—this is the principle.

"Virtue nurtures them" refers to how all things receive life through De. Huizong explains: "Before forms take shape, De remains invisible. When life emerges and each attains its nature, this is De." Zhuangzi states, "What things obtain to live is called De"—De is the nourishing power that enables all things to fulfill their proper places.

This passage elucidates the core Daoist perspectives on the generation of all things and the nature of Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue). Emperor Huizong of Song's commentary observes that the dynamic interplay of Yin and Yang Qi (vital energy) gives rise to all phenomena—when Yang Qi flows and Yin Qi remains still, their interaction forms the physical structures (xing) of beings, while their maturation manifests each entity's distinctive characteristics (li).

The exegesis further explains: Yin Qi's nature is to condense and stabilize (liu), while Yang Qi's essence is to move and disperse (dong). Yang alone cannot generate things without Yin's consolidating force, nor can solitary Yin accomplish creation without Yang's activating movement. All beings emerge through this complementary dance of Yin and Yang's stillness and motion, with their intrinsic patterns (shengli) becoming fully revealed only after physical forms take shape.

Regarding the formation of distinctive traits, the commentary illustrates with examples like cranes' long legs versus ducks' short limbs: each entity naturally manifests unique configurations and tendencies (tishi) upon formation, just as heaven's height and earth's lowness follow cosmic principles. All things honor Dao (zun dao) as their source while treasuring their individual endowments of De (gui de). Dao—though empty and tranquil—contains all potential, while De represents Dao's particularized expressions that grant each being its singular nature.

A crucial distinction emphasizes that true nobility lies not in worldly status (such as titles that powerful figures like Zhao Meng might confer or revoke), but in one's inherent De. This Virtue, originating from Dao, constitutes an inviolable supreme value (zhi gui) that no human can nullify. The exalted status of Dao and De isn't artificially bestowed but represents the eternal natural order—self-so (ziran) and fundamentally thus.

In his commentary on the Daode Jing, Emperor Huizong of the Song Dynasty observed: All worldly things inevitably decay with time, and positions of power ultimately collapse. What makes the transcendent "True Sovereign" (one who has attained the Dao) truly precious is that their essential nature remains independent of external possessions or power, maintaining constant freedom.

He further explains: Things may move when pushed by external force or stop when obstructed—these are constraints of material laws. Objects appear long or short through comparison, high or low through relative positioning—these are limitations of changing circumstances. While time and space flow endlessly, concrete things and situations must reach their limits. Once bound by materiality, how can things avoid decay? Once dependent on power, how can positions avoid collapse? Only the True Sovereign who has attained the Dao transcends the mundane world—no thing can diminish them. True nobility arises from within, neither granted by others nor borrowed from external objects, thus never decaying; independence from external power ensures they never collapse. This is why they surpass temporal limitations, abiding in constant freedom.

The Daode Jing states that the Dao gives birth to all things, nourishes them, cultivates them, perfects them, matures them, protects them, and embraces them. Emperor Huizong comments: Viewed separately, De (virtue), circumstance, and matter each differ; yet ultimately, all originate from the Dao. The Dao is the fundamental mystery of all existence—when things sprout, the Dao participates in their birth; when they withdraw, the Dao participates in their completion. As described in the Yijing: The Zhen (Thunder) trigram symbolizes stirring life, the Gen (Mountain) trigram symbolizes fulfillment, the Kun (Earth) trigram symbolizes nurturing, and the Qian (Heaven) trigram symbolizes embracing. Yin and Yang, hardness and softness interact dynamically; the eight trigrams evolve mutually. Though appearing mechanically controlled yet involuntary, all are ultimately governed by the Dao.

A deeper explanation: From creation to perfection, these seem like four distinct stages, yet all are unified in the Dao. Though heaven and earth are vast, each with its mysteries, the Dao gives birth to them; though people are diverse, each with unique qualities, all are shaped by the Dao. This is why the Dao is the root of all things. In spring, when Yang Qi stirs and plants grow—the time of transformation—the Dao silently participates through celestial patterns. In autumn, when fruits ripen—the time of completion—the Dao quietly perfects through natural laws. The Zhen trigram's thunder symbolizes emergence; the Gen trigram's stillness symbolizes fulfillment; the Kun trigram's receptivity symbolizes nurturing; the Qian trigram's dominance symbolizes embracing. Yin and Yang interacting produce the six subsidiary trigrams, creating change; the eight trigrams revolving form the cycles of sun and moon, cold and heat. Thus all things manifest their forms, and all beings emerge and return.

This passage elucidates the profound concept of "Mysterious Virtue" (Xuande) from the Daode Jing, particularly the lines: "It gives them life yet claims no possession; It benefits them yet exacts no gratitude; It guides them yet exercises no control." Laozi teaches that all processes of nurturing and growth originate from the Dao (the Way). The Dao generates and nourishes all things without claiming ownership, acts upon them without asserting merit, and governs them without domination—this far-reaching virtue is what constitutes "Mysterious Virtue."

Zhuangzi observes that light emerges from darkness, indicating that the Dao manifests subtle stirrings even before becoming visible. The Yijing (Book of Changes) speaks of perpetual transformation, illustrating the Dao's ceaseless activity. When sages govern the world, they win the people's hearts through noble conduct, embodying the unifying principle of the Dao. The Dao allows all beings to grow and transform naturally, free from partiality; it bestows blessings without proclaiming benevolence or righteousness, avoiding ostentation; it encompasses heaven and earth, shaping all things without revealing deliberate craftsmanship. This subtle and profound virtue is precisely what is meant by "Mysterious Virtue."

The chapter stating "The world had a beginning" clarifies that the Dao is the origin of all things in heaven and earth. Before the formation of the cosmos, the Dao existed—nameless and formless—as the primal beginning of creation. When the Dao manifests in the visible world, it becomes the mother that nurtures all things, now bearing names and forms. Thus, the Dao is both the initial source (beginning) and the enduring creative force (mother). To comprehend this eternal origin is to grasp the guiding principle of the Dao.

This passage discusses the characteristics of the Dao as the mother of all things. "The Great Beginning" refers to the primordial state of Qi transformation in the universe, from which all things originate. The principle of "unceasing generation" (Yi) is the mother of heaven, earth, and the myriad creatures. Though the terms "origin" and "mother" differ, both refer to the Dao—just as fish traps and rabbit snares are different tools serving the same purpose. Without this source, nothing could come into being; with it, continuous creation becomes possible.

Understanding the Dao as mother allows one to recognize all things as its offspring. Emperor Huizong of Song commented: The Dao gives birth to all things (mothering the myriad creatures) and names them (naming them), thus all things are children of the Dao. Those who truly comprehend the Great Dao can encompass all things. The scripture states "the Dao generates them," showing the Dao indeed gives birth like a mother. Those who don't understand the Dao cannot truly know things, while those who penetrate the Great Dao can grasp the principles of all existence.

After knowing the myriad things, one must return to guard the source of the Dao—then one will be free from danger throughout life. Huizong explains: Though broad in knowledge, hold to the essential; though investigating phenomena deeply, don't become entangled by external things. One must comprehend the Dao's subtleties without losing its profound mystery. Only then can one move freely without obstruction, preserve one's life, and complete one's natural lifespan without peril.

Further commentary elaborates: The Dao particularly abhors clutter—clutter leads to multiplicity, and multiplicity disturbs the Shen (spirit). By grasping the fundamental Dao, all matters become interconnected. Rather than pursuing extensive knowledge, hold to the essential. Though hearing many unprecedented things daily (hearing much), the root lies in simplicity; though seeing many unprecedented sights daily (seeing much), the essence rests in transcendence. As Mencius said, "From breadth return to simplicity." Thus when studying phenomena, one remains detached and unburdened; when comprehending the Great Dao, one maintains its mysterious essence amidst complexity. This enables free movement without obstruction, living with carefree wandering, preserving one's innate nature, fulfilling one's natural lifespan, and remaining far from danger.

Hearing too much leads to losing focus, while seeing too much obscures the essence. Therefore, one must first understand the root of things (the "mother") to preserve their source (the "child").

Block the outlets of desire (the "opening," dui) and shut the gates of temptation (the "door," men), and you will never exhaust yourself in a lifetime. Emperor Huizong of Song explained that "dui" refers to the senses that bring pleasure, while "men" represents the channels of external engagement. Temptations from the outer world stir greed within, as the ears, eyes, nose, and mouth scatter the shen (spirit). One must vigilantly guard the inner self, cutting off external disturbances and not seeking joy in outward pursuits. When external things cannot entice you, you naturally align with the Dao (the Way) and find contentment—why chase after things in a frenzy?

The Zhouyi (Book of Changes) states that "dui" signifies joy, hence its association with pleasure. The Analects say that people pass through gates when entering or exiting, so "men" symbolizes contact with the external world. Zhuangzi remarked that what people today call success is merely the pursuit of high rank and wealth—an example of external things tempting inner delight. Mencius said that the senses, like ears and eyes, do not think and are easily misled by external things, which then lure the mind. This is how the senses cause the shen to scatter. Only by maintaining inner harmony—finding joy without indulging desire, guarding the heart-mind with care—can one remain unmoved even amid countless temptations. By firmly closing the gates of external perception, inner peace is preserved, and external things are no longer seen as sources of happiness. When temptations remain unseen, they cannot seduce. Thus, one follows the Dao without worry, content in oneself—who then would rush about chasing after things? This is the principle of a lifetime free from toil.

Conversely, indulging desire ("opening the dui") and busying oneself with worldly affairs ("attending to matters") leads to a lifetime beyond remedy. Emperor Huizong noted that if deluded by vain desires and constantly occupied with tasks, one will clash and struggle with external things, laboring all life without ever achieving true fulfillment.

The "dui" represents pleasure—shut its gates, and external things cannot entice; open them, and vain desires will delude. When external things fail to tempt, one learns to guard the inner self and cut off the outside world. But when ensnared by vain desires, one mistakes the pursuit of external things for happiness, becoming led by them. This leads to conflict with the world, assimilation by external things—how then could one understand the principle of aligning with the Dao, finding joy within, and remaining unburdened by externals? A lifetime spent rushing about, seeking success yet never truly attaining it, leads only to losing one’s way, trapped without return, severely estranged from one’s true nature. This is the principle of a lifetime beyond remedy.

To perceive the subtle is true wisdom.

In his commentary on the Daode Jing, Emperor Huizong of Song observed that "subtlety" (xiao) embodies the profound essence of the Dao (the Way). Those who grasp this subtlety naturally comprehend all principles. Here, "subtlety" refers to the Dao's manifestation when returning to the state of Wuwei (non-action). By perceiving the minute details, one unveils the Dao's mysteries—an understanding rooted in self-awareness, hence the Daode Jing's assertion that "knowing oneself is enlightenment."

Regarding "holding to gentleness is called strength," Huizong explains that "gentleness" (rou) is the foundation of the Dao. Those who preserve this foundation first conquer themselves, thereby becoming invincible. The softest things in the world penetrate the hardest—this is the nature of gentleness. By maintaining gentleness, one restrains selfish desires; those who overcome themselves naturally overcome all. This aligns with the Daode Jing's teaching that "self-mastery is true strength."

On the passage "use its light, return to its radiance," Huizong interprets "radiance" (ming) as the substance of light, while "light" (guang) is its function. When sages engage with the world, their wisdom shines forth like brilliant light, emanating from the substance; when withdrawing function back to substance, wisdom transforms into inner illumination. Just as the sun and moon illuminate all things without diminishing their own light, sages manifest benevolence when applying wisdom's radiance, yet withdraw naturally into inner clarity—like celestial bodies suspended in the sky, their brilliance never wanes. This mirrors the Yijing's principle of "divinely illuminating one's De (Virtue)."

Finally, concerning "leaving no trace of calamity to the self is called inheriting the constant," Huizong states that while all things change impermanently, only those returning to their innate nature transcend external phenomena. Such individuals, abiding in their constant essence, remain untainted by worldly influences and avoid misfortune—markedly distinct from those who rely on outward appearances to please others.

This scripture elucidates two core principles:

First, it explains the impermanent nature of all transformations. The miraculous can decay into the rotten, just as the rotten may transform into the miraculous—this represents the ordinary course of change. However, "returning to the origin of life" (复命) follows a different path: it requires abandoning cleverness and old habits, transcending material attachments and worldly sentiments, returning to a state of stillness and stability, ultimately reaching an eternal realm of clarity. This state surpasses time and space, remaining unchanged through myriad transformations, distinct from ordinary material conversions. Understanding the principle of life's origin is like comprehending the natural cycle of seasons—by preserving one's innate nature and nurturing the Shen (spirit), one can safeguard both physical form and vitality, attaining an eternal state beyond afflictions. This stands in stark contrast to those who flaunt superficial appearances and pursue empty glamour.

Secondly, through the "Chapter on Maintaining Subtle Awareness" (使我介然章), it expounds the path of cultivation. "Subtle awareness" (介然) refers to maintaining minute yet lucid mindfulness, requiring vigilance against excessive action when walking the Great Dao (道). Extravagance and indulgence disrupt inner De (德, Virtue/Power), while excessive comfort damages one's fundamental nature—both manifestations of excessive "artificial exertion" (施). True practitioners should eliminate luxury and ease, preserve inner simplicity, remain unswayed by external temptations, and stabilize their foundation through introspection. The Great Dao is inherently level, yet people persistently seek shortcuts—such impatient pursuit of quick results only leads them further from the Dao.

The text particularly emphasizes: extravagance undermines the preservation of inner De, while comfort leads to indulgence of one's fundamental nature—neither aligns with the Daoist principle of "restraint" (啬). Cultivation should resemble a tree deepening its roots, stabilizing one's nature and returning to life's origin rather than chasing external glamour. Those maintaining clear awareness find no joy in worldly success, remaining naturally immune to material temptations. Only thus can they restore their original nature, preserve physical form, and achieve the cultivation state of "deep roots and firm foundation" (深根固柢).

The King of Zhou speaks of longevity in his poetic odes, yet those who seek quick results and instant gratification only drift further from the true art of nurturing life.

While the imperial court appears resplendent in outward splendor, its fields lie barren and its granaries stand empty. Emperor Huizong of Song comments: To focus solely on selecting virtuous officials to govern while neglecting to encourage agriculture and accumulate resources to enrich the people is to prioritize the branches over the roots—such governance cannot endure. The subcommentary further explains: Rectifying the court serves to regulate the conduct of officials, for the court is the source of governance. After achieving a populous state, the next step must be enriching the people, as prosperity forms the foundation for revitalizing governance. To realize lasting peace, one must grasp this fundamental principle. Thus, before appointing Xie to oversee education, Emperor Shun first ordered Hou Ji to teach the people farming; likewise, when Mencius speaks of not missing the agricultural seasons, he does so before discussing filial piety and fraternal duty. Agriculture is the root of the state—rulers achieve enduring stability precisely by adhering to this principle. To emphasize selecting talented administrators while neglecting agricultural development that enriches the populace is to invert priorities, making lasting governance impossible.

Those clad in ornate robes, girded with sharp swords, satiated with daily feasting, and overflowing with wealth are in truth flaunting stolen riches—this utterly contradicts the Dao (the Way). Huizong annotates: Those who attain the Dao act with humility, seeking no fame, while those chasing external things indulge in pleasure. The Dao-attained fear ostentation, yet profit-seekers take pride in silken garments, fine swords, sumptuous food, and material surplus without shame. Extravagant beyond measure, they obliterate moral principles, wallow in licentiousness, and boast of themselves—how could this align with the Dao? The subcommentary explains: Dao practitioners cultivate inner substance that manifests naturally, while materialists, hollow within, deliberately display externals. "Namelessness" constitutes the essence of the profound Dao, whereas "pursuing extravagance" relies on external objects. Dao practitioners act with restraint, thus finding contentment in sufficiency and reverence in action; materialists chase pleasure, thus drowning in fine clothes, swords, delicacies, and riches. Those obsessed with clothing and food would scorn coarse garments and simple fare—such people aren't worth discussing the Dao with. Those who wear sharp swords fail to understand that serenity and few desires constitute true nobility. To take pride in wealth without shame is to miss the genuine joy that remains constant through poverty and prosperity. Such people—extravagant beyond measure, obliterating morality, wallowing in excess, and boasting of themselves—stand wholly apart from the Dao.

This passage elucidates the principle that "those who are good at building cannot be uprooted, those who are good at embracing cannot be separated." The so-called "good at building" refers to establishing the Middle Way (referring to the principle of impartial conduct) to govern all relationships. When one builds upon such a foundation, it cannot be shaken. As the Book of Documents states: "Establish the Middle Way among the people," and those who can achieve this will never be forgotten by them.

"Good at embracing" means holding fast to the pure and undivided Dao to respond to endless changes. This "Oneness" represents the most subtle principle between Heaven and Earth. Only by maintaining singular focus can one adapt to the transformations of all things without becoming lost. The Daode Jing says: "Embrace the One and you cannot be separated." Those who can consistently maintain this "Oneness" will preserve the wholeness of their spirit.

Those who can both establish the Middle Way without deviating from the root, and embrace Oneness without losing its subtlety, will find their influence not limited to a single state or era, but extending universally to benefit all under Heaven and future generations. As Mencius spoke of "standing firm in the Middle Way," and Zhuangzi described "the perfect penetration of Oneness," such wisdom can respond to infinite changes and endure through ten thousand generations without decline. Their virtuous achievements spread across the four seas, their blessings extend to descendants, and their sacrificial offerings continue unbroken through the ages.

Beginning with personal cultivation, one's virtue becomes genuine. Extending it to the family, virtue becomes abundant. Expanding it to the village, virtue becomes enduring. Implementing it in the state, virtue becomes flourishing. When universalized throughout the world, virtue becomes boundless. This is the gradual expansion of moral influence.

Emperor Huizong of the Song Dynasty, in his commentary on the Daode Jing, observed that cultivating the Dao must begin with oneself. When a person cultivates their own being, the Virtue (De) they attain is genuine and pure—this is using the true essence of the Dao to nurture body and mind. Extending this cultivation to one's family, Virtue becomes abundant and overflowing; spreading it to the local community, Virtue endures—these are manifestations of using the residual influence of the Dao to teach others.

When cultivation is further expanded to govern a nation, Virtue becomes rich and ample; when extended to the entire world, Virtue universally benefits all—this is using the foundation of the Dao to bring order to the world. The broader the scope of cultivation, the more far-reaching the influence of Virtue. The key lies in this: self-cultivation is the root, while external influence is merely the branches. Thus, only when there is surplus can it endure, and only when there is abundance can it spread—these are the outward expressions of the Dao.

The commentary elaborates further: A noble person upholds the correct path, beginning with self-cultivation and ultimately achieving universal harmony. This is a process that moves from within outward, from the near to the far—the proper sequence of cultivating Virtue. "Cultivating it in oneself, one's Virtue becomes genuine" means that the principles of all things are contained within the self; by turning inward and examining oneself, one attains the joy of utmost sincerity—this is the purest form of cultivation. The Book of Documents states, "The Dao accumulates within oneself," referring to using the true essence of the Dao for self-cultivation.

Once one's Virtue is sufficient, applying it to govern a household becomes effortless; extending it to the local community ensures a lasting influence—this is what Zhuangzi called "using the residual influence of the Dao to guide people." When Virtue benefits others, employing it to govern a state results in richness and abundance, and spreading it throughout the world brings widespread grace—this is what Yang Xiong described as "using the foundation of the Dao to order the world." The broader the scope of cultivation, the more far-reaching the influence of Virtue—what is near affects what is distant, and great Virtue renews itself daily.

The crucial point is this: Inner cultivation is the true root, the innate nature bestowed by Heaven; external influence is merely the branches, the result of Virtue's propagation. Therefore, only when there is surplus can it endure, and only when there is abundance can it spread—these belong to the outward functions of the Dao.

This passage discusses the relationship between Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue/Power), as well as the principle of governing the world through self-observation.

First, it explains Dao and De: The universal law that all things follow is called Dao, while its manifestation in individuals is De. Sages cultivate themselves through Dao, preserving their innate purity. When governing the world, they simply apply these principles appropriately without altering Dao's fundamental nature.

The text then describes the method of observation: Observe yourself through yourself, observe families through families, observe communities through communities, observe states through states, and observe the world through the world. Emperor Huizong of Song commented that the principles of all things exist within us—by turning inward with sincerity, one attains supreme joy. Through this analogical method, one comprehends the constant principles of governance.

Further explanation clarifies: Though an individual's body may be small, it contains the principles of all existence. Losing one's innate nature and drifting with external currents leads to exhaustion without finding true belonging. Only by returning to original purity and maintaining stillness can one engage in introspection, experience life's true essence, and attain genuine joy. As Mencius said, the world's foundation lies in states, states' foundations in families, and families' foundations in individuals. Thus observation must begin with oneself before extending to the world.

The significance of observation lies in this: Those above must first observe those below, then those below can observe those above. As the Yijing states, "Observe the world with centered correctness," or as the Rites of Zhou advises, "Let the people observe models of governance." When superiors and subordinates observe each other reciprocally, governance becomes effortlessly effective.

When self-cultivation and inner refinement reach completion, family harmony naturally follows. With harmonious families, the state becomes well-governed, and with well-governed states, the world attains peace. This principle aligns perfectly with the natural order of heaven and earth.

How do I know this is the way of the world? Through observing its fundamental patterns. As Emperor Huizong of Song commented: The "simplicity" principle in the Book of Changes reveals the patterns governing all under heaven. The Qian hexagram (representing heaven) may appear strong and inscrutable, yet what it ultimately shows humanity is simplicity. The Kun hexagram (representing earth) may seem complex and variable, yet what it ultimately presents is conciseness. Heaven and earth demonstrate through simplicity, allowing humans to comprehend by observing their operations. What's simple is easily understood; what's concise is easily followed. Easy understanding prevents confusion, and easy practice prevents difficulty. Thus even the world's most profound truths, though hidden within complex phenomena, can be fully perceived without omission. What principle then remains beyond grasp?

From this we see that the simpler the principles upheld by sages, the vaster their influence becomes—precisely because they've grasped the Way of Simplicity. Therefore by observing heaven and earth's patterns, one perceives the realm of sages.

Chapter 55 of the Daodejing speaks of those with "profound inner virtue" being like newborn infants. Emperor Huizong explains: Humans are born with pure innate nature, yet easily become altered by external influences. Those with profound virtue remain unaffected, thus maintaining concentrated Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) with singular focus. Mencius said: "The virtuous never lose their childlike innocence."

Further elaboration: Who wouldn't admire virtuous qualities when following the constant Dao? Yet through contact with worldly matters, few can maintain them. "Pure innate nature" refers to virtue rooted in human nature; "altered by external influences" describes nature corrupted by artificiality. Only those with profound virtue remain unswayed. Being unswayed allows concentrated essence and singular focus. Thus Liezi described infants as having perfectly concentrated essence and focus—the state of supreme harmony where nothing external can harm them, representing virtue's highest expression. Qi awaits external stimuli through emptiness and stillness; concentration keeps it pure and unmixed—this is what scriptures call "gathering Qi to achieve softness." "Focus" refers to the heart's aspirations; singularity means undivided attention, as Confucius described "single-minded concentration." With concentrated essence and singular focus, one maintains constant virtue without deviation, returning to infant-like purity. This explains Mencius' statement—fully realizing one's nature represents the virtuous person's realm. Achieving this maintains substance without losing emptiness, action without losing stillness, embodying an infant's purity while preserving true nature.

This passage describes the state of attained Daoists who embody the purity and naturalness of an infant. Those who truly possess De (Virtue/Power) remain unperturbed by worldly troubles, and no pathogenic Qi can invade them—thus nothing in the external world can harm them. As Zhuangzi said, who could harm someone who dwells in the world with the openness of an empty valley?

People value infants precisely because their hearts remain uncontaminated, free from worldly anxieties and unaffected by corrupting influences. Those with profound De resemble infants—worldly troubles cannot enter them, and no harmful Qi can assail them. Worries come from without, hence the term "enter"; pathogenic influences exploit vulnerabilities, thus called "assail." For such individuals, neither misfortune nor fortune befalls them, as they remain undisturbed by external gains or losses. This represents the ultimate state of emptiness and stillness. Like Zhuangzi's analogy: if one moves through life with this vacant stillness, like an empty boat drifting by, even hot-tempered people wouldn't take offense.

The scripture continues: though their bones appear weak and sinews supple, they can clench their fists tightly; though ignorant of sexual matters, they exhibit natural vitality—this demonstrates the perfection of Jing (essence). Those with complete De manifest wholeness in form, hence their seemingly delicate frames can grasp firmly; those with integrated physical forms possess abundant Shen (spirit), thus naturally expressing life's vigor. As Zhuangzi observed, sages treasure this state of pure, undivided essence above all.

Using the infant as metaphor, this passage illustrates how Dao cultivators should maintain pristine naturalness, undisturbed by external influences, keeping their Jing, Qi, and Shen fully intact. Upon reaching this state, one becomes like an infant—outwardly tender yet brimming with inner vitality, impervious to worldly harm.

This passage expounds the Daoist core philosophy regarding the relationship between Jing (essence) and Shen (spirit). Only when physical form remains intact can spiritual wholeness be preserved. Like an infant who knows nothing of sexual union yet exhibits natural vitality, this demonstrates the fullness of spirit undiminished by dissipation. Ordinary people exhaust their Jing-Qi through overindulgence and become depleted, while only those who attain the ultimate state of essence-energy can resonate with the most profound divine forces between heaven and earth.

Zhuangzi taught that sages value Jing above all, for pure essence naturally harmonizes with the Dao of heaven. When humans align with celestial patterns, they merge completely with nature. In discussing Shen-nourishment, Zhuangzi particularly emphasized preserving Jing—precisely because spirit originates from the Great Dao, while physical form derives from essential energy.

When one can cry all day without losing their voice, this manifests perfect Yin-Yang equilibrium. As Emperor Huizong of Song annotated: The state of absolute purity and single-minded focus is called "Jing." By preserving this essence, one achieves complete De (virtue/power) and maintains unblemished spirit. The intermingling of Yin and Yang energies creates harmonious Qi—maintaining this balanced state ensures whole energy, allowing continuous crying without vocal strain.

At birth, humans receive Jing from primordial waters (the source of wisdom) and harmonious Qi from the Five Phases (the foundation of integrity). But losing childlike purity causes essence to become unstable and energy turbulent, ultimately separating form from spirit and sinking into the mundane—a truly lamentable state.

All phenomena emerge through the transformation of Jing, born through alignment with the Dao. "Jing" represents absolute purity without adulteration, equivalent to the "supreme unity" described in the Yijing. This essence constitutes heaven's purest De—preserving it ensures virtuous completion and spiritual integrity. All beings carry Yin on their backs and embrace Yang in their arms, their interaction generating balanced Qi. This energy's circulation creates harmony, echoing Liezi's teaching that "the harmonized Qi forms humans."

When harmonious Qi flows naturally, perfect moderation arises. Maintaining this equilibrium preserves whole energy, enabling ceaseless crying without hoarseness. At birth, humans receive Jing from pre-celestial waters (wisdom's source) and harmonious Qi from the Five Phases (integrity's root). Essence originates from the waters of Supreme Oneness (Taiyi), corresponding cosmologically to the northern direction and symbolizing life's primordial origin.

The root of wisdom lies in "harmony" (unity in harmony), which is the result of the convergence of heaven and earth's essential Qi (vital energy). This wisdom originates from the "Earth" phase among the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), corresponding to the central position in spatial orientation, thus forming the foundation of sincerity. Human life endowments gather the essence of the Five Phases, complete with the generative numbers from Heavenly One (Water) to Heavenly Five (Earth).

If one can maintain this state of pure unity and preserve inner harmony, then even after cultivating the body for twelve hundred years, the form will not age. At the ultimate stage, one may enter the realm of Shenming (divine illumination) and return to the origin of life. Entering the realm of divine illumination allows one to comprehend the profound mystery beyond form and direction—this is the esoteric meaning of "essential meaning entering spirit." Returning to life's origin enables one to abide in stillness—this is the true principle of "tranquility being the return to destiny." The reason people lose their childlike heart-mind is because their Shen (spirit) becomes agitated and unable to maintain stability, and their Qi becomes restless and impure. They fail to understand the principle of stabilizing the spirit and preserving Qi's purity, instead indulging their physical forms and desires, drowning in selfish cravings among the myriad things—such severe self-abandonment is truly lamentable.

Understanding the Dao of harmony is called "constancy" (eternal principle). Emperor Huizong of Song commented: By preserving the Qi of pure unity, one can internally master life. Though the form changes, one's fundamental nature never perishes. Further explanation clarifies: "Harmony" means becoming one with all things. The Guan Yinzi describes how those who attain the Dao walk among all things without fear—this is the state of preserving pure unitary Qi. Maintaining Qi in its pure, unadulterated form manifests gentle harmony. Reaching supreme harmony allows one to traverse the beginnings and endings of all things, penetrating to the origin of creation.

Understanding eternal principles is called "illumination" (true insight). Emperor Huizong annotates: Genuine wisdom is sufficient to perceive the great Dao, because it knows that fundamental nature never perishes. Additional commentary explains: Inner contemplation is called "illumination"—this vision cannot be achieved through physical eyes. Beyond form and appearance, only spiritual observation is possible. Through stillness returning to the source, one becomes as transparent as the morning sun in solitary vision, understanding that one's nature has existed since antiquity. The Book of Changes states "perfecting nature preserves its enduring existence"—this is precisely the gateway to the Dao's profound meaning.

This scripture primarily discusses the relationship between the Dao (the Way) and human nature, as well as how to follow the principles of natural spontaneity.

It first points out that preserving the natural state of one's inherent nature is the gateway to the great Dao, and even heaven and earth arise from this principle. Those who truly comprehend the Dao understand that one's essential nature never perishes.

Regarding the phrase "artificial enhancement brings ill omens": Auspicious signs are precursors to the natural development of things. If one artificially prolongs life (contrary to natural laws), it becomes a burden, making fortune and misfortune unpredictable. Like pulling seedlings to hasten growth—seemingly helpful but actually harmful. Only by following nature, without deliberately seeking artificial enhancement or allowing emotions of desire and aversion to harm body and mind, can one attain the perfect state bestowed by heaven.

The passage on "the mind forcing Qi (vital energy) is called coercion" addresses self-cultivation: The body should follow the mind, and the mind should harmonize Qi. When Qi is tranquil and not turbulent, one attains a state of gentle harmony. But if one forcibly directs Qi through willpower (like walking with uncoordinated steps), it may appear strong, yet it is actually opposition to external things—not the true path of self-transcendence.

Finally, it explains the principle that "when things reach their prime, they begin to decline": All things, upon reaching their peak, inevitably move toward aging. This deliberate pursuit of strength is itself contrary to the Dao. Because the Dao is eternal, while all phenomena undergo cycles of growth and decay. Forcibly maintaining a state of vigor only hastens decline—this is what it means to act in disharmony with the Dao.

The alternation of strength and weakness, prosperity and decline, are all governed by temporal patterns and arranged by fate—how could this align with the true meaning of the Dao (the Way)?

Zhuangzi states that the Dao is the self-generating, eternally existing foundation. Only concrete things undergo the processes of birth, growth, maturity, and decay, just as Liezi describes all things passing through the stages of youth, vigor, and old age. It is precisely because of these changes that the patterns of strength and weakness, prosperity and decline emerge. These patterns are secretly controlled by the Creator and cannot be escaped. Thus, the strong inevitably weaken and must learn to show humility; prosperity inevitably declines and must learn to rest. To be governed by time, waxing and waning in cycles, or constrained by fate, with abundance and scarcity predetermined—these are not the true essence of the Dao.

What does not conform to the Dao has long perished. As Emperor Huizong of Song commented in his annotations: The Dao is eternal and boundless, yet people have lost their true nature for far too long.

The Dao transcends the "Wuji" (the undifferentiated origin of the cosmos) and the "endless," the ultimate existence that will never be exhausted. Those immersed in worldly affairs see only concrete things but not the Dao; when their physical forms change, their minds become lost, and they remain unenlightened for life. Indeed, people have been estranged from their true nature for too long—how could they understand that only by holding fast to the great Dao can one remain free from peril throughout life?

(Note: "Wuji" refers to the primordial, undifferentiated state of the cosmos; "Liezi" is one of the classic Daoist texts; "Huizong" refers to Emperor Huizong of Song, Zhao Ji, who wrote a commentary on the Daodejing.)