《道德真經集註(二)》

The Daode Jing begins by introducing the concept of "Dao" (the Way). Peng Si of the Song Dynasty compiled commentaries from multiple scholars:

Emperor Huizong of Song explains that Dao has existed since the beginningless void and cannot be accurately described in words—once articulated, it ceases to be the true Dao. The Dao that can be spoken of resembles concrete phenomena or seasonal changes, subject to rise and decline over time, not eternal and unchanging. The true Dao is the fundamental root that has existed since antiquity, present even before the formation of heaven and earth.

Chen Jingyuan (Daoist name "Master Bixu") states that Dao is profound and mysterious, difficult to express in language, and cannot be grasped through mere intellectual cleverness. It must be realized through personal inner awakening, manifesting as the natural state of wuwei (non-action).

Sima Guang points out that while ordinary people consider Dao too subtle to describe, Laozi asserts that Dao can be spoken of—it simply differs from conventional understanding. Names can be provisionally assigned, but they are not the same as ordinary names.

Su Zhe argues that all things embody Dao, yet any Dao that can be articulated in words is not the eternal Dao. For example, specific virtues like benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom—benevolence is not righteousness, propriety is not wisdom—are all subject to change. Only the ineffable Dao maintains its unchanging essence within phenomena.

Wang Anshi quotes Zhuangzi: the true Dao transcends past and present, beginning and end. Dao is inherently beyond speech; what can be spoken is merely its appearance. Originally nameless, once named, it deviates from its essence because names inevitably carry human definitions.

Ye Mengde concludes that Dao transcends phenomena and cannot be named. Though sages prefer not to speak excessively, they must use names provisionally to convey principles—even though names ultimately fail to fully express Dao's truth.

These commentaries all emphasize: the true Dao transcends linguistic concepts, while everyday references to Dao are merely expedient representations; names are temporary constructs, and fixation on them leads one astray from the essence.

In the Daodejing, Laozi distinguishes between two types of "Dao": the unchanging, ineffable fundamental Dao (常道 Changdao), and the describable manifestations of Dao (非常道 Feichangdao). Liu Ji (Qingyuanzi) explains that the fundamental Dao represents the noumenon, while its manifestations represent function. Various schools of thought resemble specialized crafts—each excels in certain aspects but remains partial, unable to embody eternal truth.

Huang Maocai interprets "chang" (常) as denoting permanence. The true Dao coexists with heaven and earth, transcending human description. If the Dao could be fully articulated in words, it would merely reflect worldly understanding, not eternal truth. Hence the Daodejing states: "I do not know its name, so I provisionally call it Dao." Laozi sought to reveal this eternal Dao to awaken humanity.

Shao Ruoyu (Benlaizi) observes that the great Dao is formless, silent, and nameless—it cannot be perceived through senses or intellect. This beginningless and endless eternal Dao gives rise to primordial Qi (一炁 Yiqi) from emptiness. The moment it becomes describable (可道), it ceases to be the eternal Dao; once named (e.g., as "Yiqi"), it is no longer the eternal name.

Regarding "The nameless is the origin of heaven and earth; the named is the mother of myriad things," Emperor Huizong of Song (in his Imperial Commentary) explains: The Dao itself has no name, yet heaven and earth depend on it for existence—this aligns with Zhuangzi's statement "it gives birth to heaven and earth." Before heaven and earth formed, who could have named it? Thus "nameless" signifies the source of creation. After heaven and earth emerged, the myriad things were nourished, making "the named" function like a nurturing mother.

Chen Jingyuan (Bixuzi) elaborates further: "Nameless" refers to the Dao's essential state. Before creation, even provisional naming was impossible. This mysterious origin first manifests as undifferentiated simplicity (浑沦之朴 Hunlun zhi Pu), which divides to generate Taiji and the Two Modes (Yin-Yang). "Named" describes the post-creation state where heaven and earth nurture beings like a mother cares for children. In truth, the profound Dao transcends distinctions of named/nameless—the sage employs these concepts merely to clarify the relationship between essence and phenomena.

Sima Guang explains that heaven and earth are the greatest of all tangible existences. Their origin must have begun from "non-being" (wu), hence the source of heaven and earth is called "non-being." All things reproduce through form, and this reproduction must be based on "being" (you), thus the root of all things is called "being."

Su Zhe elaborates further: When the Dao was still in a state of formlessness and namelessness, it gave birth to heaven and earth. Only after heaven and earth were established did names begin to exist. When the Dao manifests in a state of having names, it scatters and generates all things. After the proliferation of all things, names become too numerous to exhaust. Therefore, "namelessness" is the essence of the Dao, while "having names" is its function.

Cao Daochong (Daoist name Renjing) interprets it this way: "Namelessness" refers to the Dao itself having no name—it is neither "being" nor "non-being," nor confined to any specific form. This is the origin that creates heaven and earth and initiates all things. When the Dao's spiritual nature disperses and manifests, descending into the human body, it becomes the Shen (spirit). The great Dao itself is empty, tranquil, and silent, and what manifests next is "De" (Virtue/Power). "De" means "to obtain"—all things come into being by obtaining the Dao, and from this arises the "True One." The "One" is the beginning of having names. When Yin and Yang energies harmonize to form the "One," it is called the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate). The Taiji gives birth to heaven and earth, and when Yin, Yang, and Qi descend into the womb, what condenses becomes form, while what is refined becomes breath—this is "life" (ming). Humans live between heaven and earth. Though heaven and earth appear to act through Wuwei (non-action), they manifest their function through humans. Only when the three powers—heaven, earth, and humanity—are complete can all things be accomplished. Hence, it is called the "mother."

Ye Mengde references the Buddhist concept of "form and emptiness": The transition from "non-being" to "being" is called "form" (phenomena). Though "form" arises from "non-being," its essence remains "emptiness." The return from "being" to "non-being" is called "emptiness." Though "emptiness" returns to the source, it does not negate phenomena. The profundity of form and emptiness is such that even sage-kings like the Yellow Emperor and Yu the Great could not fully comprehend it. Sages view "being" from the perspective of "being," where all things are real existences, hence "having names" is called the mother of all things, from which heaven and earth arise. They view "non-being" from the perspective of "non-being," where all things return to nothingness, hence "namelessness" is called the beginning of heaven and earth, from which all things vanish.

Liu Ji (Daoist name Qingyuanzi) states: The great Dao has no form yet gives birth to heaven and earth. Before heaven and earth took shape, who could name it? Therefore, "namelessness" is called the beginning of heaven and earth. The great Dao has no name yet nourishes all things. Once all things take form, they can be named by their substance. Hence, "having names" is called the mother of all things.

Huang Maocai raises a question: Is the origin of heaven and earth truly entirely "non-being"? If it were truly "non-being"... (The text breaks off abruptly, likely a philosophical reflection on how "non-being" is not absolute nothingness.)

This passage primarily discusses the relationship between "non-being" (wu) and "being" (you), and how they serve as the origin of heaven, earth, and all things.

The primordial state defies verbal description—not because it is truly nothing, but because it cannot be named. Only after things take form do we reluctantly assign them names. As the Daode Jing states: "Dimly visible, within it there are images," referring precisely to this state that hovers between existence and non-existence. What we call the "mother" signifies the source capable of generating all things. Heaven and earth emerge first, followed by the myriad beings—this sequence holds profound significance.

Cheng Dachang explains that although heaven and earth govern the transformations of all things, there exists a more fundamental "non-being" beyond them. This "non-being" may be called the beginning of heaven and earth. Confucian scholars often dismiss this concept as too abstract, yet the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji) mentioned in the Book of Changes and Laozi's "non-being" actually express the same principle through different names. The Supreme Ultimate is neither heaven nor earth, yet encompasses both. Laozi employs various terms like "non-being," "the One," "images," and "the Uncarved Block" to describe this primordial state—all pointing to the same truth: neither complete nothingness nor concrete things, but the generative source of all existence.

Shao Ruoyu adds that prior to the emergence of Qi (the fundamental energy constituting all things), that nameless, formless state represents the beginning of heaven and earth—the ineffable Dao. When Qi manifests, it becomes the speakable Dao, the mother that produces all things. Those who comprehend this principle of "the One" may perceive the great Dao.

The passage concludes by presenting two modes of observation: maintaining desireless stillness allows one to apprehend the Dao's profundity, while investigating with intellectual curiosity reveals its boundaries. These distinct cultivation methods—one emphasizing mystical intuition, the other analytical understanding—both lead to genuine comprehension of the Dao's essence.

This scripture compilation gathers annotations from multiple Daoist scholars on the concepts of "being" (you) and "non-being" (wu) in the Dao De Jing. Emperor Huizong of Song (Imperial Commentary) states: Non-attachment to any phenomenon is called "constant non-being" (chang wu), while not abandoning any phenomenon is called "constant being" (chang you). "Constant non-being" belongs to the metaphysical realm of principle, resembling the most subtle existence in the universe—thus one should observe its profundity. "Constant being" belongs to the realm of concrete phenomena, resembling the most dynamic transformations in the world—thus one should observe its boundaries. These two states of being and non-being encompass both boundaries and profundity; the truly wise observe both simultaneously.

Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) explains: "Desire" (yu) arises when the mind chases external objects, while "profound mystery" (miao) represents the ultimate refinement, and "boundary" (jiao) denotes limits (the small paths beside the great Dao are called jiao, which also implies returning). The formless Dao in its quiescent state is called "desirelessness" (wu yu), while in its generative aspect it's called "having desire" (you yu). Through desirelessness one observes the Dao's profundity (maintaining emptiness), while through having desire one observes the Dao's boundaries (requiring contemplation). "Constancy" (chang) refers to the eternal, unchanging Dao—both desirelessness and having desire are different functional aspects of the Dao.

Sima Guang (Master Sushui) remarks: When all things exist, "non-being" seems useless, yet sages preserve it to investigate spiritual transformations. When "non-being" is valued, "being" seems useless, yet sages preserve it to establish boundaries for all things. If one emphasizes only "non-being" while discarding "being," it leads to empty abstraction. This reflects the Dao De Jing's teaching: "Being gives convenience, while non-being creates utility."

Su Zhe (Master Yingbin) proposes: Sages govern the world through realization of the Dao. By dwelling deeply among phenomena while maintaining the state of "non-being," one observes the Dao's profundity. By experiencing ultimate "non-being" while preserving "being," one observes the Dao's boundaries. Stopping at boundaries without knowing profundity appears crude, while indulging in profundity without recognizing boundaries prevents universal application.

Wang Anshi (Master Linchuan) observes: Being and non-being are like east and west—opposite yet mutually indispensable. Without "being," one cannot perceive "non-being"; without "non-being," "being" cannot manifest. The alternating transformations of being and non-being never depart from the Dao—this is what sages call divine mystery. The Yijing's statement "no thought, no action, quiescent yet responsive to all things" expresses precisely this principle. Ancient sages thus approached all phenomena with thoughtless, effortless (wuwei) awareness.

This passage explores the Daoist dialectical concept of "being" (you) and "non-being" (wu). Cao Daochong, a Northern Song dynasty Daoist master, explains that although sages exhibit movement and transformation, they always remain rooted in the "constant Dao" (changdao). What we call "desiring" (youyu) refers to the sage's manifested actions. The term "jiao" (徼) signifies boundaries—when observing finite things through infinite mystery, what boundary could remain unseen?

Ye Mengde, a Song dynasty scholar, believed only sages could transcend the duality of being and non-being, moving freely between both realms. To seek truth from "non-being," one must contemplate emptiness where wondrous principles reside—as Zhuangzi's "observer of non-being" becomes a companion of heaven and earth. To seek truth from "being," one examines concrete things where boundaries emerge—like Zhuangzi's "observer of being" representing ancient noble conduct.

Huang Maocai, another Song dynasty Daoist, noted that while the Daode Jing advocates "no desires" (wuyu) and "few desires" (guayu), desirable things in reality are plentiful. "Non-desire" may be called the constant Dao, but can "desiring" also be constant? He observed that since the emergence of all things, whether nine-orificed placental creatures or eight-orificed oviparous beings, all perpetuate through desire. Thus "desiring" too belongs to the constant Dao. People recognize "non-being" stems from the Dao but fail to see "being" equally originates from it. Those who abandon thought to dwell in mountains, forsaking family for Buddhist emptiness, misunderstand how both being and non-being spring from the Dao's profound mystery.

Cheng Dachang employed Yijing concepts: the formless is called Dao (metaphysical), the formed is called "vessel" (concrete things). Dao manifests as vessels, vessels embody Dao—merely different expressions of one reality. Here "wondrous" (miao) and "boundary" (jiao) correspond to the Yijing's Dao and vessels.

The text concludes that being and non-being share one origin with different names—both are called "profound" (xuan). Emperor Huizong's commentary states the formless Dao knows no boundaries or mystery—all things share one root, distinctions being illusory. Deluded people reject illusion to chase truth yet stray further, unaware "being" and "non-being" are nominal distinctions. The Huangdi Neijing states "profound gives birth to spirit (shen)," while the Yijing defines "spirit" as that which wondrously transforms all things. Condensing "wondrous" yields "profound"—xuan being heaven's color. Confucius created...

This passage compiles interpretations of the phrase "Mystery upon mystery, the gateway to all wonders" from the Daode Jing by several Daoist scholars:

Su Zhe (Master Yingbin) posits that while "being" (you) and "non-being" (wu) appear as distinct concepts in form, they are fundamentally unified. He explains that "mystery" (xuan) represents the boundless, infinite state—Laozi's term for the ultimate realm. "Mystery upon mystery" signifies reaching the absolute extreme, beyond which nothing transcends, serving as the source of all marvels.

Cao Daochong (Master Dao Zhen Renjing) identifies the "two aspects" as desirelessness and desire. Stillness is the essence, movement its function—though named differently, both originate from the Dao and ultimately return to "mystery." "Mystery" is the profoundly still, formless state, while "yet deeper mystery" manifests infinite transformations, akin to the opening and closing of Yin-Yang. This constitutes the meaning behind "the gateway to all wonders."

Liu Ji (Master Qingyuan) emphasizes that cultivation must progress from "being" into "non-being," probing essence through phenomena. He likens "mystery" to the infinite azure of the sky, representing boundless depth. "Mystery upon mystery" means wondrousness compounding wondrousness, depth transcending depth—uniting with emptiness and harmonizing with primordial chaos, from which all wonders of existence arise.

Huang Maocai cites the Zhuangzi dialogue between Nanbo Zikui and the female sage Yu, illustrating the layered process of apprehending the Dao. From written records to oral transmission, then to inner realization, one ultimately reaches profound states like "dark obscurity" (xuanming) and "boundless vastness" (canliao). The Dao reveals ever-subtler depths—Yu attained the source only after nine stages of realization, embodying the essence of "mystery upon mystery."

Lin Dong synthesizes that phenomena and essence are unified, with outward forms and inner truths mutually dependent. This echoes the consensus among scholars: through progressive deepening, one ultimately grasps the fundamental marvels of the Dao.

This passage discusses the relativity of "beauty" and "goodness," as well as the Daoist perspective on the nature of things.

Laozi believed that when everyone in the world recognizes what is beautiful, the concept of ugliness arises; when everyone knows what is good, the notion of the not-good also emerges. This is like the Dao (the Way) itself, which has no fixed form—how can there be any distinction between beauty and ugliness? Human nature is originally uniform—what difference can there be between good and evil? What people consider wondrous today may decay tomorrow, and what has decayed may yet become wondrous again. How, then, can beauty and ugliness be distinguished? What was once deemed right may now be considered wrong; what is discarded today may be embraced in the future. How, then, can one choose between good and not-good?

Chen Jingyuan (Bixuzi) further explains that beauty and goodness actually stem from people’s illusory emotions. Ordinary people take what they like as beautiful and what they dislike as ugly; they regard what they approve of as good and what they reject as not-good. But the sage is not without concepts of beauty and goodness—rather, they maintain a detached attitude, refraining from deliberate praise or condemnation. In this way, they preserve the integrity of their De (Virtue/Power).

Su Zhe (Yingbin) points out that people define beauty and ugliness through concrete forms, but what is called "beauty" or "goodness" may not be real. Lu Dian argues that true beauty transcends the concepts of beauty and ugliness, just as true goodness transcends distinctions of good and not-good. Once beauty is defined, true beauty vanishes; once goodness is standardized, pure goodness dissipates.

Liu Jing and Ye Mengde both emphasize that with the concept of "subtlety" (miao) comes beauty and goodness, while with the concept of "boundary" (jiao) comes ugliness and evil. Without the contrast of ugliness, how could beauty exist? Without the comparison to not-good, how could goodness be defined? If beauty arises from ugliness, then beauty itself carries the nature of ugliness; if goodness is distinguished from not-good, then goodness also contains elements of not-good.

Liu Ji (Qingyuanzi) explains this through cosmogony: In the undifferentiated state of primordial chaos, all things were one; only after the division of Yin and Yang did things begin to oppose one another. Once the concept of beauty exists, the purity of original nature is destroyed.

What the world considers "evil" exists only in contrast to "good." Once this distinction between good and evil arises, human nature has already deviated from the Dao. Huang Maocai said: What the world admires as beauty is not true beauty; what the world praises as good is not true goodness. Then what constitutes true beauty and goodness? Only those who understand this principle have truly begun to comprehend the Great Dao.

All things in the world exist in mutual opposition and interdependence: Being (you) and non-being (wu) give birth to each other, difficulty and ease complete each other, long and short manifest through contrast, high and low depend on each other, tones and echoes harmonize with each other, front and back follow one another. Emperor Huizong of Song (in his Imperial Commentary) explains: Before Heaven and Earth divided, all things were one. After the differentiation of yin and yang, all things formed opposing relationships. These six pairs of opposites are precisely the root of all transformations, all deliberations, and all divisions in the world—and the very attachments from which ordinary people struggle to free themselves.

Non-being gives rise to being, and being ultimately returns to non-being—hence "being and non-being give birth to each other." Only after experiencing hardships does one recognize the ease of smooth paths—this is called "difficulty and ease complete each other." Length and shortness are like measurements with a ruler; height and lowness resemble the relationship between mountains and marshes. When sound is emitted, echoes respond—this is "tones and echoes harmonize." When objects move, shadows follow—this is "front and back follow one another." The movement of yin-yang, the succession of seasons, the birth and death of all things—all suddenly arise and suddenly vanish. What seems difficult becomes truly arduous when approached with deliberate effort (youwei); what seems easy becomes truly simple when aligned with natural spontaneity. What is naturally long cannot be shortened; what is naturally short cannot be lengthened. Heaven naturally remains above; Earth naturally stays below. Strike the gong note, and the gong sound responds; strike the jiao note, and the jiao sound answers. When spring passes, summer naturally arrives; the elder naturally precedes the younger. Though these opposing phenomena all manifest the Dao's presence, fixation on duality leads one further from the Way.

Master Bi Xu (Chen Jingyuan) observes: These six pairs of opposites all arise because people cling to standards of beauty and goodness, becoming mired in artificial contrivance. Once human artifice emerges, partiality arises; partiality leads to harm, ultimately causing all things to lose their original nature.

Sima Guang (the Sage of Sushui) contends: All concrete, formed things inevitably contain differences; differences provoke contention; contention leads to chaos; chaos results in decline. Therefore, the sage does not value these dualistic distinctions.

Su Zhe (of Yingbin) explains: People fail to understand that being/non-being, difficulty/ease, long/short, high/low, tones/echoes, front/back—these opposing relationships actually transform into and constrain each other; none are fixed. When you consider yourself "long," encountering something longer makes you "short."

This passage primarily discusses the philosophical concept of relativity in all things. Wang Anshi posits that notions such as being and non-being, difficulty and ease, height and lowness, sound and tone, front and rear are all mutually opposing. Only by simultaneously transcending these six pairs of concepts can one attain the state of "entering divine communion" (rushen), merging with heaven and earth while remaining unbound by dualistic constraints.

Lu Dian further elaborates: Being and non-being describe the essence of the Dao (the Way); difficulty and ease describe the nature of De (Virtue/Power); length and shortness describe physical form; height and lowness describe position; sound describes interactive resonance; front and rear describe the relationship between beginning and end. These all represent naturally formed relationships of unity within opposition.

Liu Jing illustrates relativity through vivid examples: Those who gain deer may quickly lose them, while those who lose horses may soon gain; water cannot accommodate carts, nor can land accommodate boats; mountain ranges and morning mushrooms have vastly different lifespans; nobles and beggars occupy opposite social stations; one may drink joyfully in dreams yet wake weeping in sorrow; the life journey from infant to aged death. All demonstrate how worldly phenomena mutually transform and depend upon each other.

Liu Ji observes that beauty may become ugliness, goodness may turn to its opposite, just as the six pairs of concepts—being and non-being, difficulty and ease—mutually generate and transform. These opposites rely upon each other, cycling endlessly rather than representing eternal truths. What was considered right in the past may be rejected today, while what we discard now may be valued later, as the scripture states: "The proper may become strange, the good may become ominous."

Therefore, sages adopt the attitude of Wuwei (non-action) in conduct and practice "wordless teaching." Here Wuwei doesn't mean complete inaction (as Zhuangzi's "non-action that employs the world"), but rather avoiding forced effort. The "wordless teaching" (as described in the Yijing: "establishing teachings through divine principles") manifests through exemplary living rather than verbal instruction. For deliberate action inevitably brings success and failure, while speech inevitably produces correctness and error—all becoming potential burdens. The sage's ability to transcend worldly attachments stems precisely from freedom from these relative concepts.

This passage synthesizes commentaries from multiple Daoist scholars on the "governing through non-action (Wuwei)" concept in the Dao De Jing. The core ideas are:

When a sage who has attained the Dao governs the world, their mind remains in a transcendent state. Their administration appears effortless (Wuwei), and their teachings transcend verbal instruction (不言). Like a mirror reflecting objects or an echo resonating in a valley, they respond naturally without consciously pursuing beauty or rejecting ugliness. Su Zhe explains that this state surpasses distinctions of beauty and ugliness, good and evil—even concepts of length and sequence hold no attachment, making its profundity difficult for ordinary people to comprehend.

Wang Pang further elaborates that sages have no personal desires, instead aligning completely with the will of the people. They act without leaving artificial traces and teach without relying on words. Precisely because they are unattached to speech and action, they enable the world to return to its original simplicity. Such sages, though dwelling in the mundane world, remain unaffected by the transformations of Yin-Yang, undisturbed by dualistic phenomena (the "six oppositions").

Other scholars add that sages achieve this state through complete unity with the Dao. Though seemingly inactive in handling affairs, they accomplish everything; though silent in teaching, their influence is profound. Just as all things naturally generate and restrain one another in mutual dependence, sages simply follow this natural order. Cheng Dachang notes that this chapter specifically critiques those who pursue superficial forms, which leads to hypocritical imitation.

The passage concludes with metaphorical illustrations: When things grow naturally, the Dao does not interfere. It generates all beings without possessing them, completes works without claiming credit. Precisely because it claims no merit, its achievements never fade. Like a mirror impartially reflecting beauty and ugliness, or a valley equally echoing all sounds, the great Dao treats all things equally—neither feeling benevolent when bestowing favors, nor appearing tyrannical when wielding thunder.

Heaven and Earth create all things yet claim no credit for their skill, hence it is said "to act without claiming." The four seasons run their course, accomplishing their tasks and then withdrawing - this is the natural order. The sage emulates the Heavenly Dao; though his achievements cover the world, it seems as if they have nothing to do with him. To claim credit for one's accomplishments is delusion. Therefore it is said "achievement without claiming" - for to claim is to lose, an eternal truth unchanged through the ages. When one does not claim, external things cannot affect you. What comes comes naturally, what goes goes naturally - why add or subtract? Thus it is said "precisely because one does not claim, the achievement is never lost."

Master Bi Xu (Chen Jingyuan) explains: The sage governs the world through Wuwei (non-action). The people nourish themselves, dwell in peace and enjoy their work, each finding their proper place. The ten thousand things grow naturally according to their nature, yet the sage never claims these accomplishments as his own. Though his achievements match those of creation itself, he remains indifferent to fame and fortune, never coveting power or position. Therefore the people remain unaware of his presence. Precisely because of this, his Dao and De (Virtue/Power) never fade.

Su Zhe (Yingbin) observes: The ten thousand things serve me yet I never decline them; I nurture all yet never possess; I accomplish yet never claim. Whether in poverty or wealth, the sage remains untroubled by external conditions - this is the supreme state of "non-claiming." If I do not claim, how can achievement ever leave me?

Wang Pang remarks: All worldly things change, only the Dao remains constant. The sage comprehends the Dao's truth - though responding to infinite changes, he preserves his original mind. He never mistakes temporary accomplishments for personal merit, thus transcending dualities of right/wrong, beautiful/ugly, life/death to enter eternal realms. With this mindset, even the highest honors become no burden.

Master Cao Daochong (Daoist title: Zhenren Jingxian) points out: The sage neither rejects nor clings to anything. He follows nature spontaneously, accomplishing then withdrawing like the turning seasons. This attitude of "non-claiming" represents the sage's supreme wisdom in engaging with the world.

This scripture primarily discusses the characteristics of the Dao (the Way) and the principles by which sages govern the world.

The Dao is like boundless space, within which all things move freely, appearing and disappearing, coming and going. It allows all things to develop naturally, never rejecting or clinging to them. It creates all things without claiming ownership or asserting itself as their creator. Ye Mengde explains that when things arise, the Dao follows their arising; when things grow, the Dao follows their growth. When things develop naturally, the Dao does not impose interference nor claim credit for their achievements. This is why sages follow the Dao and ultimately seek no fame.

In the third chapter, "Not Exalting the Worthy," it states: If the worthy are not exalted, the people will not contend; if rare goods are not valued, the people will not steal; if tempting objects are not displayed, the people's minds will not be disturbed. The imperial commentary explains that exalting the worthy leads people to pursue cleverness, sparking conflicts between Confucians and Mohists, while valuing precious goods stirs greed, resulting in daylight robbery and wall-breaking theft. If the worthy are not exalted, the people will remain content in their station; if rare goods are not prized, the people will be satisfied with what they have. Once human desires are indulged, people will recklessly risk their lives in pursuit, leading to all manner of wrongdoing. Boyi starved himself to death on Shouyang Mountain for the sake of reputation, while the robber Zhi rampaged through Dongling for profit—their hearts were either scorched or frozen by desire. In contrast, sages transcend concerns of gain and loss, life and death, poverty and success, their minds clear and undisturbed by external things. Confucius reached a state of no confusion by forty, and Mencius attained an unshaken heart by the same age.

Master Bixu (Chen Jingyuan) adds that if a ruler remains humble and unassuming, not flaunting his abilities, the people will naturally follow like grass bending with the wind, remaining docile and free from contention. The classic states, "I practice Wuwei (non-action), and the people transform of themselves; I love stillness, and the people correct themselves." Rare goods such as gold, silver, and jewels—if the ruler advocates Qingjing Wuwei (tranquility and non-action), the people will peacefully till the land, leaving gold in the mountains and casting pearls back into the depths. Without greed for wealth, the impulse to steal will never arise.

This passage explores how to maintain inner purity through controlling desires. Several scholars offer nuanced interpretations of the phrase "not seeing what excites desire" from the Daode Jing.

The human mind is easily tempted by external objects, giving rise to covetous desires. The concept of "not seeing" doesn't imply complete isolation from the external world, but rather maintaining a non-attached observation with a Wuwei (non-action) mindset. When rulers can encounter external things without generating greedy attachments, they remain untainted by sensory temptations, thereby preserving their innate purity and returning to an authentic state.

Sima Guang observes that while esteeming the virtuous is inherently good, excessive pursuit of reputation paradoxically breeds contention. Laozi's teaching aims to rectify this tendency by redirecting attention from empty fame to substantial virtue. Su Zhe supplements this by noting that sages don't reject capable people—they simply avoid ostentatious displays; they don't abandon valuables—they merely refrain from excessive valuation. Thus, talent naturally finds its proper function without inciting public competition.

Wang Anshi further analyzes that the apparent contradiction between esteeming worthiness and devaluing treasures actually points to transcending binary oppositions of good and evil. Ye Mengde observes that when people lose their original nature, they either chase empty fame or indulge in material gains. Mencius taught that the best method for cultivating one's heart-mind is reducing desires—hence the need to address both aspects.

Huang Maocai emphasizes that "not seeing what excites desire" isn't about physical blindness, but perceiving through the illusory nature of external things. Just as the most beautiful women (Mao Qiang and Li Ji) hold no allure in the eyes of fish and birds. Therefore, the sage's governance principle involves: purifying the heart-mind, satisfying basic needs, weakening covetous impulses, and strengthening inner cultivation. Only through this approach can one attain the state where external phenomena no longer disturb one's fundamental nature.

This scripture primarily explores the dialectical relationship between "emptiness" (虚) and "fullness" (实), and how achieving "weak aspirations with strong bones" (弱志强骨) leads to the state of governing through Wuwei (non-action).

The text begins with vivid metaphors illustrating the importance of emptiness: valleys produce echoes because of their hollowness, mirrors reflect because of their emptiness, and musical instruments produce sound because of their vacant spaces. Similarly, ears, eyes, and noses function precisely because they remain empty—if these organs were filled, their capacities would be obstructed. The sage (one who has attained the Dao) maintains inner emptiness, enabling impartial perception without personal biases; while keeping the abdomen (Dantian energy center) full with abundant Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), resulting in contentment and freedom from grasping desires.

Next, it explains the relationship between "aspiration" (志) and "bones" (骨): aspiration represents the heart's direction, while bones symbolize the body's structural support. Excessive ambition leads to chasing fame, flaunting talents, and distancing from the Dao; weak bones result in scattered behavior and external attachments. The sage adopts the opposite approach: knowing masculine strength yet abiding in feminine softness, aware of glory yet content with humility—this constitutes "weakening aspirations." Simultaneously, maintaining robust bones like the legendary immortal Guangchengzi (who lived 1,200 years without bodily decay) exemplifies "strengthening bones."

Liu Ji elaborates: emptying the heart means transcending subject-object distinctions, while filling the abdomen means preserving inner Shen (spirit). Beyond dualistic perception, desires and thoughts naturally dissolve, softening aspirations; safeguarding internal spirit fortifies the physical form, naturally strengthening bones. Weakening aspirations focuses on eliminating cunning intentions, while strengthening bones emphasizes eradicating covetousness.

Huang Maocai observes: Although Laozi opposes forceful dominance, "strengthening bones" emphasizes inner cultivation rather than external contention.

The conclusion states: When the sage governs through Wuwei, eloquent speakers dare not abuse rhetoric, the brave refrain from aggression, the talented avoid ostentation, and the clever cease manipulative schemes. By prohibiting such behaviors, the sage "prevents the wise from reckless action" (使智者不敢妄为). The sage's governance doesn't abandon human affairs but achieves effortless rule through self-cultivation.

The reason the earth can nurture all things lies precisely in its adherence to the natural principle of "wuwei" (non-action).

Master Liu Ji of Qingyuan (a Song Dynasty Daoist) explains: The way of the sage in engaging with the world is as natural as the void—it cannot be forced. Deliberate action leads to failure; excessive striving results in loss. Thus, those of true wisdom dare not act recklessly. What appears as non-action is, in fact, the highest form of action, rooted in the natural law of non-forcing. This subtle mode of operation is capable of harmonizing all things. As Zhuangzi said: Let the mind rest in tranquility, allow the qi (vital energy) to merge with the vast expanse, follow the inherent nature of all beings without imposing selfish desires—and the world will naturally attain peace.

(Excerpted from Collected Commentaries on the Dao De Jing, Volume 1, this passage elaborates on the core Daoist concept of "governing through non-action," emphasizing the wisdom of aligning with natural laws over human interference.)