《道德真經集註(二)》Vol. 13

This passage comes from Peng Si's Song Dynasty compilation Collected Commentaries on the Dao De Jing, explicating Chapter 52 of the Dao De Jing concerning the Dao as the origin of all things.

The chapter's opening phrase "All under heaven has a beginning" indicates that heaven, earth, and the myriad things all have a starting point—this fundamental source is the Dao (the universal principle). The Dao serves both as the origin (beginning) and the nurturing mother of all creation. Just as a mother gives birth to children, the Dao generates all phenomena in the world (its offspring).

Those who comprehend this truth must understand both the operational patterns of manifested things (the children) and maintain connection with the root Dao (the mother). By doing so, even when physical life ends, one does not truly perish. Several Song Dynasty scholars offered distinct interpretations:

Emperor Huizong (in his Imperial Commentary) viewed the formless Dao as heaven and earth's inception, while its manifest aspect generates all things. The Dao creates everything like a mother naming her children. Those truly attuned to the Dao can grasp complexity through simplicity, perceive essence beyond appearances—neither obsessed with materiality nor straying from the Dao's profundity—thus navigating worldly affairs with ease while remaining free from lifelong worries.

Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) explained through substance-function relationships: "The One" (primordial qi) represents the Dao's first concrete manifestation (child), while the Dao itself remains the subtle substance (mother). Understanding the Dao's substance reveals its function; maintaining the substance enables flexible application, achieving the state of non-action (wuwei) that accomplishes all things.

Su Zhe (Yingbin) proposed that sages use the Dao to comprehend phenomena as thoroughly as a mother knows her children. Though wisdom may survey all things, one must never forget the root Dao.

Wang Anshi (Linchuan) employed yin-yang theory: the harmonizing qi emerging from yin-yang transformations originates from the Dao. All things ultimately return to their source (returning to the root) and revert to quiescent original nature (recovering destiny), which constitutes the meaning of "returning to guard the mother."

These interpretations collectively emphasize grasping the fundamental Dao-principle, asserting that only by returning to the origin and upholding the Great Dao can one attain true wisdom and enduring existence.

Da Zhenzi said that all things originate from Heaven and Earth, yet Heaven and Earth themselves take the Dao as their root. Thus, the genesis of all phenomena in the world invariably stems from the Dao. Precisely because the myriad things under heaven all emerge from the Dao, the Dao is called the mother of all creation. The source from which all beings grow is the "mother," while that which relies on this source to develop is the "child." If we liken the Dao to a mother, then all things in the world that depend on the Dao for their existence are its children.

Once one recognizes the "mother" as the fundamental origin, one can understand the "children" it gives birth to. Returning from form to formlessness, from movement to stillness—those with physical form will never be exhausted, and those in motion will never encounter danger. Therefore, understanding the principle of the "child" while returning to safeguard the root of the "mother" ensures one will remain free from peril throughout life. This refers to those who realize the Great Dao and return to the origin.

Huang Maocun said, the ceaseless generation of all things under heaven must have an original creator. The Daode Jing states "the named is the mother of all things," referring precisely to this primordial creator—hence called the "mother," while all things are its "children." By grasping and preserving this root, the source that created us will endure eternally, and what we create will not be lost, thereby avoiding danger.

"Block the openings (referring to the senses), shut the gates (referring to the doors of desire), and to the end of life there will be no toil. Open the openings and multiply affairs, and to the end of life there will be no salvation." Master Bi Xu (Chen Jingyuan) explained: "Openings" mean the eyes—when covetous eyes are closed, external temptations are naturally cut off; "gates" mean the mouth—when the talkative mouth is stopped, all calamities cannot intrude. Severing external connections blocks the source of desire; preventing calamities closes the path of reckless action. Thus one attains serene tranquility and avoids lifelong toil. Conversely, those who do not guard the fundamental Dao open the source of craving without blocking it, allowing desires to proliferate; they unbar the path of reckless action without closing it, inviting calamity. Thus they sink into sorrow and peril with no hope of salvation.

Wang Pang explained: "Openings" refer to pleasure—when humans experience pleasure, their physical form becomes unrestrained. Thus when "openings" are unblocked, external things invade. "Gates" are where the spirit enters and exits, manifesting as various actions. When the physical form opens to receive external things while expending spirit to interact with them, complex entanglements begin. Therefore, one should block the "openings" and shut the "gates," constantly preserving the root. By closing the sensory gates to respond to external things, one handles infinite changes with ease. But opening the senses to let external things invade while exhausting the spirit to cope leads to inevitable peril.

This scripture primarily discusses how practitioners can maintain inner purity by controlling sensory desires, ultimately achieving unity with the Dao (the Way).

When one becomes engrossed in external matters, it is like being swept away by a current, making self-rescue difficult. Master Cao Daochong explains that the mouth and tongue are akin to the Dui trigram (one of the Eight Trigrams, symbolizing the marsh), serving as the pivot of fortune and misfortune—thus, one must not speak carelessly. The eyes seeing, the ears hearing, and the mind dwelling on sensory experiences all trigger shifts between auspicious and inauspicious outcomes. Therefore, practitioners must learn to close these sensory gateways. Those who truly attain the Dao seal these sensory portals, remaining unburdened by external distractions for life.

Liu Ji (Daoist name Qingyuanzi) elaborates further, stating that the Daode Jing’s teaching to "block the mingmen (a vital acupoint) and preserve the Jade Capital (referring to the head)" conveys this very principle. When inner visions do not leak outward and external impressions do not invade inward, one’s primordial Qi (vital energy) naturally stabilizes, and the Shen (spirit) remains pure. A pure spirit allows one to return to their innate nature, uniting with the Dao, comprehending the laws of heaven and earth, and aligning with the source of primordial Qi—thus reaching the state beyond birth and death. Conversely, if one indulges in joy without restraining desires, they will be lured by external temptations, their inner mind becoming agitated. This leads to the dissipation of Qi, leakage of Jing (essence), and scattering of the Shen. Such a life of restless striving yields little accomplishment.

The scripture continues: To perceive subtle omens is called wisdom; to maintain a gentle and yielding posture is called strength. By wielding the light of wisdom, one ultimately returns to the original clarity, leaving no calamity for oneself—this is the way of following the constant Dao. Emperor Huizong of Song’s commentary explains that the subtle embodies the profundity of the Dao, and understanding this principle naturally grants insight into all things. Gentleness is the root of the Dao, and preserving this root constitutes true strength. The light of wisdom is used to engage with the external world, while original clarity is the illumination of inner realization. When sages engage with the world, they both extend wisdom to respond to phenomena and withdraw it to return to their essence—just as the sun and moon illuminate all things without diminishing their radiance.

Chen Jingyuan (Daoist name Bixuzi) adds that one must prevent calamity before it arises and govern disorder before it manifests. Maintaining a gentle and yielding posture ensures that external things cannot harm you—this is true strength. Perceiving subtle omens prevents confusion by appearances—this is true wisdom. The light of wisdom governs the external, serving to engage with phenomena, while enlightened understanding governs the internal, serving cultivation. Only by returning to original clarity can one transcend impermanent changes, preserving the constant nature and remaining free from calamity.

This passage compiles annotations on the Daode Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue) from multiple scholars, which I'll explain section by section:

Su Zhe (Yingbin) posits that human sensory faculties—hearing, sight, smell, taste, touch, and thought—all originate from inner "light." When this luminous awareness interacts with external phenomena, the objects may transform or fade, but the intrinsic clarity remains undiminished. Thus one can respond to myriad changes without harm, preserving the original nature's purity across generations without interruption.

Wang Anshi (Linchuan) interprets "perceiving subtlety is called true vision" as recognizing that genuine understanding requires noticing minute details, while superficial observation doesn't constitute real knowledge. The softest things penetrate the hardest substances, hence "maintaining softness is called true strength." "Using radiance to return to illumination" indicates that outward brilliance (light) manifests from inner awareness (ming), with illumination being the source of radiance. True wisdom understands strength must be rooted in softness, just as light emanates from fundamental awareness. Only by skillfully employing external expressions while returning to the source can one avoid lifelong errors and align with the eternal Dao.

Chen Xianggu observes that ordinary people often neglect small matters while overvaluing grand ones. Towering trees grow from tender sprouts, thousand-mile journeys begin with single steps—this embodies the meaning of "seeing the small." True wisdom lies in foreseeing future developments. Bending wood requires no constant force; melting metal needs no month-long effort—demonstrating how softness overcomes hardness. Light projects outward, while illumination turns inward. When applying external manifestations, understand their origins (knowing the offspring); when returning to inner awareness, trace back to their source (recovering the mother).

Huang Maocai references the Han Dynasty's reverence for Huang-Lao teachings, mentioning an unnamed elder who grasped their essence more profoundly than even renowned masters like Master Gai—a figure regrettably unrecorded in histories. When Gong Sheng passed away, an elder came to mourn, sighing: "Incense burns itself through fragrance, lamp oil consumes itself by giving light. Master Gong didn't exhaust his natural lifespan—he wasn't truly of our Way." Having spoken, the elder departed, leaving none knowing his identity.

The concluding marker "Chapter Fifty-Three: 'Were I Granted Steadfastness'" references the original Daode Jing section these commentaries address. This chapter primarily discusses maintaining independent, transcendent awareness without following worldly currents.

This scripture discusses how Dao practitioners should approach the relationship between "knowing" and "doing." Multiple Daoist masters offer perspectives: practitioners should maintain inner clarity, follow the natural Dao (the Way), and avoid deliberate action.

Chen Jingyuan warns that practitioners should fear nothing more than actions misaligned with ancient Dao. Su Zhe suggests that those who truly comprehend the Dao neither deliberately pursue knowledge nor action, but allow all things to transform naturally. Forced pursuit of knowledge or action deviates from the natural Dao—a pitfall to be wary of.

Cao Daochong explains that "firm resolve" (jieran) refers to an unwavering, tranquil mind that abides long in the Wuwei (non-action) state of the Dao. Even well-intentioned deliberate action is feared by those who have attained the Dao. Dazhenzi emphasizes that even minimal understanding of the Dao demands vigilance against forced action—how much more so for those who presume deep knowledge.

Liu Ji and Huang Maocai both assert that the Dao cannot be grasped through intellect or achieved through contrived effort. Lin Dong adds that practitioners should approach all actions with reverence and caution, ensuring they neither stray onto wrong paths nor neglect fundamentals for superficial gains.

The latter passage—"The Dao is very smooth, yet people prefer bypaths"—observes that while the Dao is naturally straightforward, people favor shortcuts. The Imperial Commentary explains that though the Dao is level, shortcuts appear faster, yet chasing speed only distances one from it. Sima Guang notes the Dao is inherently simple, but people lose their way by seeking novelty. Cao Daochong points out that self-cultivation should unfold naturally over time, yet impatience for quick results fuels the rise of expedient techniques. Liu Ji concludes that craving shortcuts leads to losing the true Dao—which is why, though the Dao seems easy to know and practice, few in the world truly grasp or embody it.

Here we see that those who acquire wealth through improper means are like robbers flaunting their riches—this is certainly not the true Dao (the Way).

Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) explains that the phrase "ye zai" expresses a lament of sorrow. Such behavior is truly distressing.

Sima Guang (Master Sushui) analyzes that nations straying from the Dao often focus on immediate gains while neglecting long-term development, pursuing trivialities while forgetting fundamentals. Though the court may appear well-governed on the surface, the people actually live in poverty. To seize what does not rightfully belong to one is banditry—to occupy high positions with shallow De (Virtue), to make grand plans with little wisdom. Such people remain unaware of impending danger, instead growing arrogant and self-satisfied. Wearing fine robes beyond their station, greedily amassing wealth—this is what is meant by "robber's boasting." Does such ostentation not stem from having intended to follow the right path but gone astray?

Wang Anshi (Master Linchuan) observes that this is like abandoning the root for the branches, forsaking the main road for byways.

Master Dazhen further explains that those who turn from the great Dao to follow lesser paths can be compared to a court that appears orderly while daily necessities run short, fields lying fallow yet adorned for show, empty storehouses yet officials clad in finery with swords at their waists, feasting extravagantly while imagining themselves wealthy. This is neglecting fundamental cultivation while flaunting superficial displays.

Chapter 54 then discusses the principle of "what is well planted cannot be uprooted":

What is truly well established cannot be uprooted; what is truly well embraced cannot slip away—thus may descendants continue sacrifices without end.

The Emperor's commentary states: Establish the Middle Way to govern high and low, therefore it cannot be uprooted; embrace pure unity to respond to myriad changes, therefore it cannot slip away. Establishing centrality without deviating from the Dao, embracing unity without abandoning essence—such influence extends beyond one's own country and era to shape the world and future generations, enduring through time.

Sima Guang explains: "Cannot be uprooted" is like deep roots that cannot be shaken; "cannot slip away" is like the people's hearts that cannot be taken; "without end" means blessings flow continuously.

Su Zhe (Master Yingbin) remarks: In this world, what can be established never to fall, or held never to be lost? Only the sage understands the truth of inner nature and sees through the illusion of external things, relinquishing externals to cultivate the self. His accumulated De becomes so substantial that what seems unestablished cannot be shaken; what seems unclung-to cannot slip away. Thus through his descendants, sacrificial offerings never cease.

Wang Anshi says: What is well established is De. One who can establish De will find what is established cannot be moved.

Those skilled in establishing the foundation of Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue) create what cannot be easily uprooted. Those adept at preserving the Dao hold fast to its essence ("embracing the One" refers to maintaining the fundamental nature of the Great Dao), thus never losing its root. Those who can both establish and preserve the Dao will possess profound virtue. Because their virtue runs deep, they will be venerated for a hundred generations. The significance of such veneration lies in how virtue, the longer it endures, the more it is remembered—hence the sacrifices of descendants will never cease.

Lu Dian explains: Those skilled at closing need no bolt yet cannot be opened—this is the meaning of "what is well established cannot be uprooted." Those skilled at tying knots need no cord yet cannot be undone—this is the meaning of "what is firmly embraced cannot slip away."

Cao Daochong (Daoist name Master Renjing) observes: Like a deeply rooted tree, unshakable in its foundation—this is "skilled establishment." Holding fast to one's innate nature, preserving purity—this is "not slipping away." First cultivate oneself, then extend to others, transmitting virtues of integrity, purity, and benevolence to future generations. Thus, blessings reach descendants, accumulated virtue passes down through the ages, and sacrificial rites remain unbroken.

Ye Mengde states: Establishing achievements outwardly is called "building," while preserving one's nature inwardly is called "embracing." If what is built has a foundation, it will not be shaken; if what is embraced has constancy, it will not be lost. Achievements built this way will endure even over great distances, while virtues preserved this way will persist even in close quarters. This benefits not only oneself but also one's descendants—sacrifices will never cease, and those who follow will never vanish.

Huang Maocai points out: The Great Dao stands alone, eternal and unchanging—what is built upon it is "skillfully established," and thus cannot be shaken. "Carrying the soul and embracing the One" (uniting spirit and form to hold fast to the Dao) ensures no separation—this is "skillfully embraced," and thus cannot be lost. Virtue that is neither shaken nor lost endures not only in one's own time but also for generations to come—hence the sacrifices of descendants will never cease.

Cultivate the self, and virtue becomes pure.

Cultivate the family, and virtue becomes abundant.

Cultivate the community, and virtue becomes enduring.

Cultivate the nation, and virtue becomes flourishing.

Cultivate the world, and virtue becomes universal.

Emperor Huizong of Song (Imperial Commentary) explains: Cultivating the self to make virtue pure means refining oneself with the true essence of the Dao. Cultivating the family to make virtue abundant, and the community to make it enduring, means teaching others with the Dao's remaining traces. Cultivating the nation to make virtue flourishing, and the world to make it universal, means governing states and empires with the coarser aspects of the Dao. The broader the scope of cultivation, the greater the influence of virtue. The key lies in cultivating the self with purity—all else is secondary. Thus, abundance precedes endurance, flourishing precedes universality—all these are outward manifestations of the Dao.

Master Bi Xu (Chen Jingyuan) states that these five aspects (self-cultivation, family regulation, village governance, state administration, and pacification of the world) begin with personal refinement and ultimately influence all under heaven. Practitioners of the Dao must maintain a tranquil mind and serene disposition, nourish their Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit), and reduce selfish desires. Only thus can they prolong life, eliminate all falsehood, and become true attainers of the Dao.

Sima Guang (Master Sushui) observes that these principles address branches by returning to the root, extending from the near to the distant.

Wang Pang explains that the method of self-cultivation progressively expands outward: first creating abundance before growth becomes possible, growth enabling flourishing, and flourishing making universal application attainable.

Master Cao Daochong (Dao Zhen Ren Jing) points out that cultivating oneself with the Dao results in pure spirit and upright conduct. When one's person is rectified, it transforms the world, and applying this to family governance proves more than sufficient. Extended to villages, it educates communities; applied to states, it brings prosperity; ultimately spreading from the individual to the four seas.

Master Da Zhen declares: What is genuine contains no falsehood, what is abundant lacks nothing. Surpassing the multitude is called growth, satisfying the multitude is called flourishing, and reaching the multitude is called universality. All attainments of the Dao are called De (virtue). From person to family, family to village, village to state, and state to the world - governing with the Dao leaves nothing unperfected.

Therefore, we observe the person through the person, the family through the family, the village through the village, the state through the state, and the world through the world. How do I know the world is thus? Precisely through this method.

Master Bi Xu explains that "observation" means illuminating examination. Using the ancient sages' way of self-cultivation to reflect upon oneself, if body and mind embody the Dao, one's virtue becomes genuine. Laozi asks: How do I know that the world prospers by following the Dao and declines by opposing it? This is a rhetorical question. The answer: Through reflective observation of these five aspects we may know. As the Yijing states: "Observing one's own life reveals understanding of the people" - this expresses the same principle.

Su Zhe (Master Yingbin) remarks: What lies beyond heaven and earth remains unseen by ordinary people, yet its principles can be inferred. The supreme method of self-cultivation involves observing the person through the person, the family through the family, the village through the village, and the state through the state - all within our capacity to know. But the sage's "observing the world through the world" perhaps surpasses our ordinary understanding.

This passage elucidates the principle of comprehending all things under heaven through self-observation. Several Daoist scholars expound the epistemological method of "understanding the greater through the lesser" from different perspectives.

Wang Anshi states: Every individual follows inherent patterns of being, thus one can understand others by observing oneself; every household operates according to its own principles, thus one can understand other families by observing one's own. From individuals to households, villages, states, and ultimately the entire world, the same logic applies. My method for grasping the operating principles of the world employs this "moving from the near to the distant" approach of observation. What aligns with the Dao (the Way) is embraced, what contradicts it is discarded.

Cao Daochong (Daoist name Master Renjing) supplements: By observing the successes, failures, rights and wrongs within oneself, one can perceive the condition of the multitude; by observing the prosperity, decline, favorable and adverse circumstances of one's household, one can comprehend other households. From a small village to the vast world, though the scale differs, the governing principles remain interconnected. The method for understanding world affairs lies precisely in applying this approach.

Chen Xianggu further explains: Understanding the Dao of self-cultivation enables proper self-governance; understanding household management enables proper family stewardship; understanding village administration enables proper community leadership; understanding state governance enables proper national rule; understanding world governance enables proper universal mastery. Thus one grasps the fundamental without deviation. The phrase "by this" refers precisely to this observational method of progressing from near to far, from small to great.

Huang Maocai employs a vivid analogy: Though things differ in size and distance, their inherent principles show no variation. Like when King Tang of Shang asked Xia Ge: "What lies beyond the Four Seas?" Xia Ge replied: "The same as the Central Plains." When King Tang traveled east to Yingyi, he found its people no different from those in the Central Plains; proceeding further east revealed the same pattern. Journeying west to Bin produced identical findings. Thus he realized the essential sameness across all lands. To understand the world through the method of comprehending the world—who besides someone like Xia Ge, skilled in analogical reasoning, could truly grasp this?

These interpretations collectively demonstrate that understanding reality begins with personal experience, extending comprehension of grand patterns through observation of concrete, immediate examples. This "extending from self to others" cognitive approach constitutes an essential Daoist mode of thinking.

Cheng Dachang stated that the reason he could comprehend the patterns of all things under heaven lies in grasping the fundamental principle of "authenticity."

Chapter 55, titled "The Thickness of Virtue (De)," says: Those with profound virtue are like newborn infants.

Emperor Huizong of Song (in his imperial commentary) quoted Mencius to explain: Those of lofty virtue preserve the pure nature of an infant. Chen Jingyuan (Bixuzi) explained that "to contain" (含) means to embrace. Those who have cultivated themselves to the highest level possess a pure heart and profound virtue, their temperament returning to primal simplicity—detached and desireless, their outward appearance as plain as an infant. "Red infant" (赤子) refers to a newborn baby, so named for its ruddy complexion, symbolizing the most pristine and harmonious state.

Su Zhe (Yingbin) believed that Laozi used the infant as a metaphor for the Dao (the Way) to illustrate its essence rather than its function. The infant, free from desires and demands, perfectly embodies the essence of the Dao, yet it does not yet know how to respond to external things, so it cannot illustrate the Dao's function.

Wang Anshi (Linchuan) pointed out that the red infant naturally preserves its pure Yang-Qi (vital energy) without dissipation, so those with profound virtue can be compared to it. Lu Dian cited another chapter of the Daodejing to explain that knowing the strength of the masculine yet abiding in the softness of the feminine allows one to embrace all things like a stream, maintaining constant virtue and ultimately returning to the purity of an infant.

Cao Daochong (Daoist Master Zhenren Jing) explained: "To contain" means to embrace, with a heart that is neither frivolous nor shallow—only then can virtue be profound. The "red infant" refers to a baby whose innate nature remains pure and undispersed, unseeking of external things, inwardly accumulating harmonious Qi (vital energy).

Ye Mengde analyzed that Laozi used the infant as a metaphor for the Dao, and here he uses the red infant as a metaphor for virtue (De). The infant, not yet grown into a child, retains its primordial Qi (vital energy), thus resembling the Dao; the red infant, though already a child, has not yet developed cognition, thus resembling virtue (De).

Liu Ji (Qingyuanzi) said that the sage embraces the Dao and virtue, profound and desireless, silent and non-acting (Wuwei), thus comparable to the red infant. Cheng Dachang further explained that "containing virtue" means to harbor virtue within the heart without outward display, as Zhuangzi said: "Only by discarding musical tones and ornamentation do people reveal their wisdom; only by eliminating the contrived behavior of Zeng Shen and Shi Qiu, and restraining the debates of Yang Zhu and Mozi, can people truly preserve virtue."

(Continuing with the explanation of the red infant's traits) Poisonous insects will not sting him, fierce beasts will not pounce on him, and birds of prey will not strike him. This metaphor illustrates that those with profound virtue, being pure and non-contentious, naturally avoid harm. Just as the infant, though weak, is protected by the Qi (vital energy) of heaven and earth.

This scripture, through the annotations of various Daoist scholars, collectively elucidates the state of "profound virtue cultivation" (han de zhi hou). Emperor Xuanzong of Tang noted in his imperial commentary that those with profound virtue remain unperturbed by worries and untouched by pathogenic Qi, rendering them impervious to external harm. This echoes Zhuangzi's teaching that one who maintains a mind as open and empty as a valley remains invulnerable to injury.

Chen Jingyuan (Bixuzi) elaborates specifically: venomous creatures like wasps and scorpions sting with their tails, fierce beasts like tigers and leopards attack with claws, and birds of prey like eagles strike with wings and talons. Yet the "perfected person" (zhiren) who has attained the highest state of cultivation transcends all worldly concerns, maintaining the pure innocence of an infant. With their Shen (spirit) perfectly intact, no external force can harm them.

Su Zhe (Yingbin) analyzes this from the essence of Dao: The Dao is formless, hence invulnerable. Human suffering arises from discriminative thinking. With discrimination comes form; with form comes opposition; with opposition comes harm. But like an infant free from discrimination, such a person offers no point of opposition for external things to attack.

Both Wang Anshi (Linchuan) and Cao Daochong (Daozhen Renjing Xiansheng) emphasize that infants harbor no intention to harm, thus receiving no harm in return. Liu Ji (Qingyuanzi) adds that such individuals preserve their heavenly nature intact, their spirit leaving no gaps for external forces to penetrate. As Zhuangzi illustrated with the drunken man who falls from a carriage yet remains unharmed—his mind free from fear of life and death—if even drunkenness can offer such protection, how much more so for one in complete harmony with the celestial Dao?

Huang Maocun employs the story of Liang Yang taming wild beasts to demonstrate this principle. Liang could make tigers, wolves, and eagles coexist peacefully in his garden by eliminating all mental distinctions, viewing beasts and birds as kin. This state of "no opposition or compliance in the heart" (xin wu ni shun)—where one makes no mental separation between hostility and submission—precisely embodies the manifestation of profound virtue cultivation.

Though an infant's bones are soft and sinews supple, its tiny fists can grasp with surprising strength; though unaware of male-female union, its vital essence naturally arises. These phenomena manifest the ultimate plenitude of Jing (essence).

Emperor Huizong of Song (Imperial Commentary) explains: Those with perfected De (virtue) naturally possess complete physical form—hence an infant's softness yet firm grip. Those with complete form naturally possess abundant Shen (spirit)—hence spontaneous essence movement without knowledge of intimacy. Those with essence at its ultimate plenitude may enter divine states. As Zhuangzi said, sages prize the nurturing of essence above all.

Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) elaborates: Infants know neither joy nor anger, yet grasp so powerfully because their heavenly nature remains pure and undivided. The term "vigorous activation" refers to the primal source of infant vitality. Before emotions stir, prenatal Yang Qi flows naturally—this is the movement of true essential Qi. Like Dao-realized adepts whose empty minds harbor no desires, their genuine Qi circulates unimpeded by cravings.

The Shangqing Dongzhen Scripture records: Human life forms when celestial Qi constitutes spirit and earthly Qi forms the body, both transformed from primordial Qi into fluids and essence. If celestial Qi (Yang) wanes, spirit scatters; if earthly Qi (Yin) declines, illness follows; if primordial Qi diminishes, life fails. Thus the "Emperor's Return to Origin" practice reverses Qi flow through meridians to nourish the brain (mud pellet). A replenished brain strengthens spirit; strong spirit perfects form—harmonizing all vessels internally while repelling external pathogens, hardening marrow and softening sinews. Maintaining this pristine state ensures longevity.

Sima Guang (Master Sushui) considers these natural phenomena. Su Zhe (Master Yingbin) observes: Fists clench without intention, essence arises without desire—demonstrating that essence's plenitude requires no artificial effort.

Cao Daochong (Master Dao Zhen Ren Jing) clarifies: Infant hands don't grasp objects nor minds entertain distractions, hence their natural firm grip. Their spontaneous essence movement reveals humanity's innate Five Phase essence. When adults' Qi-blood peaks, they release through union—but infants, unbound by desire, express essence through spontaneous movements like waving limbs.

Master Da Zhen concludes: Soft bones with strong grasp show form's natural state, unaffected by externals; innocent essence-arising reveals nature's spontaneous flow, undisturbed by passions.

This passage presents annotations by several Daoist scholars on concepts from the Daode Jing such as "firm gripping" (握固), "erection" (峻作), and "crying all day without becoming hoarse," primarily discussing the pure and natural state of infants. Here is the modern interpretation:

Chen Xianggu explains that an infant's natural clenching of fists (握固) is not deliberately sought but occurs spontaneously; similarly, erections (峻作) arise naturally without conscious intent. Liu Ji (Qingyuanzi) elaborates that when Virtue (De) is complete, the body becomes whole—hence, though an infant's bones are soft, it can grip firmly. When the body is whole, Essence (Jing) and Qi (vital energy) are abundant—thus, though unaware of sexual union, it naturally experiences erections. This state of unconscious gripping and desireless responsiveness arises from single-minded concentration that aligns with the natural order, representing the pinnacle of Jing-Qi refinement.

Cheng Dachang observes that an infant's fist-clenching and erections are not willed actions but spontaneous manifestations of the untainted primordial Qi (先天纯真之气) before its dissipation. An infant crying all day without growing hoarse demonstrates the perfect harmony of Yin-Yang energies.

Emperor Huizong of Song (in his imperial commentary) states that undivided focus is called "Jing" (精). When Jing-Qi is abundant, Virtue (De) is complete, and the Spirit (Shen) remains undiminished. The blending of Yin-Yang energies forms "harmony" (和)—when harmony is full, breath flows smoothly, and the voice stays clear. At birth, Jing derives from the Celestial One (天一, primordial Qi), the root of wisdom; harmony stems from the Celestial Five (天五, the balanced Five Phases), the foundation of trust. At its zenith, this state connects with the divine and returns to innate nature. Those who lose this childlike purity see their Jing-Qi unsettled and unanchored, their breath turbulent and impure. Indulging in bodily and mental excesses, they drown among worldly things—a lamentable fate.

Chen Jingyuan (Bixuzi) clarifies that extreme crying without sound is termed "hoarseness" (嗄). Infants cry incessantly yet remain unharmed because their natural harmony is utterly intact. Thus, those who attain the Dao breathe deeply (息以踵) without hoarseness, their harmony perfected. Su Zhe (Yingbin) argues that mental agitation injures Qi, and injured Qi leads to hoarse crying. An infant's uninterrupted crying without hoarseness proves its mind unmoved and Qi harmonized. Wang Anshi adds that crying all day unhoarsely epitomizes ultimate harmony, for "harmony" governs the movement of Qi.

Cheng Dachang describes this as the state where pristine harmony fills the body, unshaken even by crying—thus serving as a metaphor for the realm of "harmony." Recognizing harmony's principle is called "constancy" (常, the eternal law). Emperor Huizong explains that preserving undivided Qi lets life be inwardly governed; though the form changes, innate nature remains unbroken. Chen Jingyuan states that "harmony" is unity with all things—infants preserve heavenly purity through it, while Daoist adepts treasure it as constant truth. Su Zhe concludes that "harmony" shields the inner self from external harm; returning to innate nature is "constancy"—encountering the world yet reverting to the root; knowing harmony is "constancy"—grasping the fundamental.

Through the infant's natural state, this passage elucidates key Daoist concepts like "Jing-Qi," "harmony," and "returning to innate nature," emphasizing the cultivation of primordial purity and effortless non-action (Wuwei).

This passage explores the central position of "harmony" (和) in Daoist philosophy. Harmony represents the fundamental principle governing all phenomena, essentially manifesting the Dao itself, and is therefore regarded as the eternal constant.

Wang Anshi explains that when harmony functions properly, it maintains an unchanging state. Cao Daochong (known by his Daoist name Master Renjing) considers harmony to be the natural law of life’s operation, not some extraordinary method. Chen Xianggu states that those who truly comprehend the ultimate state of harmony can consistently abide by it without deviation.

Liu Ji (Daoist name Qingyuanzi) further elaborates that understanding the principle of harmony allows one to remain pure and uncluttered, tranquil and unchanging in essence, aligning with the natural rhythms of heaven and earth. Huang Maocun uses the metaphor of an infant, noting that though a baby cries, its voice never grows hoarse—this exemplifies the highest state of harmony. Grasping this principle enables a return to the infant’s pure simplicity, ensuring longevity.

The next section explains "knowing the constant is called enlightenment" (知常曰明): true wisdom lies in understanding eternal laws. The Emperor’s commentary notes that enlightened individuals perceive the Dao clearly because they recognize that intrinsic nature never perishes. Wang Anshi adds that without sufficient wisdom, one cannot comprehend the constant. Liu Ji argues that understanding the constant allows clarity like the morning sun, transcending past and present, shining alongside the sun and moon. Huang Maocai compares it to the movement of celestial bodies and seasonal cycles, emphasizing that enlightened individuals discern the profound mysteries of cosmic creation.

Regarding "forcing life's increase is called inauspicious" (益生曰祥), the text warns that artificially prolonging life invites misfortune. Chen Jingyuan (Daoist name Bixuzi) explains that "auspiciousness" (祥) originally signifies omens of fortune or calamity. Since human form and destiny are predetermined, violating natural laws to forcibly extend life brings ill omens. Su Zhe asserts that life should not be artificially prolonged, as such efforts constitute unnatural practices—what appears as "auspicious" is actually ominous. Lu Dian advocates following life’s inherent nature without forced intervention, allowing transcendence beyond fortune and misfortune.

Cao Daochong points out that only what truly benefits body and mind is auspicious; beyond this, even outwardly beautiful but inwardly corrupt things cannot be life’s blessings. Dazhenzi remarks that "auspiciousness" is not the norm. Chen Xianggu states that maintaining this constancy and enlightenment naturally strengthens life, free from calamity. Huang Maocai laments that many die young, with few reaching a hundred years, emphasizing the need to nurture life in accordance with the natural Dao.

Is it not auspicious for humans to desire immortality and eternal existence in this world? The key lies in how to use the mind to guide the Qi (referring to the internal energy circulation in cultivation).

True strength comes from allowing the mind to naturally guide the Qi. When the body aligns with the mind, and the mind merges with the Qi, the Qi becomes harmonious and non-violent—this is genuine vitality. If one deliberately uses Qi to oppose the external world, it is not the true path of self-transcendence.

Master Chen Jingyuan of the Bixu lineage noted: the mind distinguishes right from wrong, but Qi itself is without discrimination. Su Zhe (Yingbin) added: Qi should not be forcibly moved; if one compels it with the mind, it becomes excessively rigid. Wang Anshi (Linchuan) argued: cultivation should focus on refining Qi to achieve softness. If, instead, Qi is driven by the mind, it cannot be internally preserved and becomes violent. Such so-called "auspiciousness" is not a sign of virtuous fortune but rather an omen of calamity; this kind of "strength" is not the true power of conserving Qi but merely brute force surpassing violence. Words should not be taken at face value—each has its proper context.

Cao Daochong (the Daoist master known as Daozhen Renjing) explained: when the mind stirs, it drives the Qi, and when Qi moves, the body follows. Any action inevitably involves contention. However, a realized Daoist’s mind remains unmoved while Qi flows naturally, just as when a person sleeps—external affairs cease, and though unconscious, subtle movements of hands and feet still occur. Is this driven by the mind? If even sleep is like this, how much more so in the silent state of unity with the Dao?

Huang Maocai distinguished two kinds of Qi: Qi forcibly driven becomes violent energy, while Qi guided by the mind transforms into harmonious Qi (peaceful and pervasive life force). When this harmonious Qi fills the entire body, neither heaven nor earth can disturb it, ghosts and spirits cannot harm it, and sensual desires cannot unsettle it—this is true strength.

All things that grow strong inevitably decline—this is contrary to the Dao. Chen Jingyuan of the Bixu lineage said: when objects become strong, they eventually wither; when the mind grows forceful, it leads to violence. The Dao takes softness and weakness as its root. To pursue strength as an ideal is to deviate from the Great Way. "Ceasing" here means termination—death. Those who oppose the Dao meet an early end.

Su Zhe believed: deliberately forcing the breath to prolong life, making it unnatural, leads to increasing rigidity and inevitable aging, losing the pure nature of an infant. Wang Anshi stated: only the Dao existed before heaven and earth yet never appeared strong, enduring since ancient times without showing signs of age. Cao Daochong countered: even if one wishes not to cease aging, what can be done? (Implying that defying natural laws ultimately leads to extinction.)

Ye Mengde said: Therefore, spiritual cultivation is most valuable when begun early. Huang Maocai added: All things follow the natural course from vigor to decline, but those who understand the Dao (the Way) can coexist with heaven and earth—how could there ever be an end for them?

In the chapter "Those Who Know Do Not Speak," it is said: Those who truly understand the Dao do not indulge in empty talk, while those who love to preach do not genuinely comprehend it. One must block the openings of desire, shut the gates of temptation, blunt sharp edges, resolve conflicts, soften brilliance, and blend with the mundane world—this is how one attains the state of "mysterious unity" (profound harmony with the Dao).

Emperor Huizong of Song (in his imperial commentary) explained: The Dao cannot be explored through questions and answers; those who truly attain it do so through silent realization. Just as in the Zhuangzi, when Nie Que questioned Wang Ni with four inquiries and received no answers, the more one speaks, the farther one strays from the Dao.

Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) cited a story from the Zhuangzi: A man named "Knowledge" sought the Dao by the Dark Waters, encountering Wuweiwei (Do-Nothing-Say-Nothing), Kuangqu (Madly-Darting), and the Yellow Emperor. Wuweiwei remained silent to all three questions; Kuangqu wanted to speak but suddenly forgot what to say; only the Yellow Emperor told him: "You understand the Dao by not thinking about it, abide in it by not striving for it, and attain it by not seeking it." Yet the Yellow Emperor concluded that Wuweiwei was the one who truly embodied the Dao, Kuangqu was close to it, while he and "Knowledge" were still far from it.

Su Zhe (Yingbin) believed: Though the Dao cannot be fully expressed in words, it is not entirely divorced from them. The key is to shut out external temptations while maintaining inner peace and detachment—silence brings one closer to the Dao.

Wang Anshi (Linchuan) pointed out: The phrase "Blunt the sharpness, resolve the tangles" appears repeatedly in the Daodejing, indicating it is a universal principle of cultivation.

Cao Daochong (Master Daozhen Renjing) concluded: Those who truly unite with the Dao forget words, just as one forgets the fish trap after catching the fish. The essence lies in grasping the spirit, not clinging to the text.

If one only knows how to speak but cannot act accordingly, how is this any different from not understanding the principles at all? Just as the mouth may speak, those who are truly wise often choose silence. The human body has three vital centers (referring to the upper, middle, and lower Dantian) and seven apertures (eyes, ears, nose, mouth, etc.), all of which serve as gateways for internal and external exchange. What flows outward from within are Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), Shen (spirit), blood, and all manner of emotions and desires; what invades from the outside are sensory temptations and the fluctuations of heat and cold—what is lost is the true vitality, while what enters is mere illusion. Thus, one must close these gateways.

When others flaunt their brilliance, directly opposing them will only invite resentment. It is better to temporarily accommodate them, as this does no harm to oneself. When others are mired in worldly filth, forcefully rejecting them will only provoke displeasure. Therefore, those who have attained the Dao (the Way) restrain their radiance and conceal their De (Virtue), temporarily harmonizing with the mundane world—this does not taint their true nature. "Mystery" (Xuan) means remaining hidden and unassuming, neither flaunting wisdom nor striving for novelty.

Liu Ji, the Daoist master Qingyuanzi, explains: Heaven and Earth possess supreme beauty yet never proclaim it; the four seasons follow their laws without discussion; all things have their inherent principles yet need no explanation. The sage practices "teaching without words," just as a skilled musician communicates through the strings of a zither, conveying meaning beyond speech. The Dao is profound and subtle—those who truly understand it do not speak much, while those who do not understand only add confusion with words. The more one speaks, the farther one strays from the Dao. True cultivators silently internalize it, allowing their nature to naturally fulfill itself. By blocking the apertures of the ears and eyes, one can turn inward in vision and hearing; by closing the gates of desire, one preserves the body and restores vitality. Withdrawing sharp edges allows the spirit to return to its source; dissolving conflicts purifies the body and mind. Harmonizing radiance makes it gentle and unobtrusive; blending with the dust of the world leads to forgetting the self and all things. Only then can one share the heart of Heaven, free from cunning, and unite with the Dao, leaving no trace. This is the state of "mysterious unity" (Xuantong)—how could it be constrained by worldly distinctions like closeness or distance, nobility or baseness?

Cheng Dachang adds: Blocking the apertures and closing the gateways means not allowing others to see one's path of cultivation. Withdrawing sharp edges and resolving conflicts means returning to simplicity and harmony. Harmonizing radiance and blending with the dust means letting go of the self and viewing all things equally. These practices all aim to achieve a state of turbid simplicity—eliminating distinctions is called "unity," and adding the word "mysterious" (Xuan) to it signifies a deeper fusion, like gulls mingling in flocks or beasts resting together without revealing the slightest difference. Many commentaries interpret "Dui" (兌) as the joy mentioned in the Book of Changes, but in the Book of Songs, the phrase "the path is Dui" refers to a small trail, much like the mountain paths mentioned by Mencius.

The passage discusses the attitude and realm of the Daoist "Perfect Man" (one who has attained the highest state of cultivation).

When people frequently tread a small path, it becomes a visible road. But a true adept of the Dao remains unbound by worldly ties: you cannot move him with intimacy, nor affect him with distance; you cannot tempt him with profit, nor threaten him with harm; neither can you elevate him with honor, nor demean him with lowliness. Precisely because he transcends these worldly standards, he becomes truly revered by all under heaven.

Emperor Huizong of Song's commentary notes that ordinary people create distinctions of closeness and distance through competing affections and aversions, calculate gains and losses through the interplay of emotions and artifice, and establish hierarchies of nobility and baseness through weighing choices. These opposing cycles endlessly alternate without cessation, utterly unworthy of universal reverence.

Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) further explains: The Perfect Man associates with the Great Dao without flattery—even universal praise cannot make him arrogant, thus intimacy cannot move him. He interacts with material things without contempt—even universal criticism cannot make him despondent, thus distance cannot affect him. Serene and desireless, content with his lot, he remains untempted by profit. Dwelling in humility without shame, facing ugliness without contention, he remains unthreatened by harm. Neither rank nor stipend can taint him; neither power nor influence can shake him—thus honor cannot elevate him. Undaunted in adversity, more at ease in poverty—thus lowliness cannot demean him. By embodying these six virtues, neither exalting in prominence nor ashamed of hardship, free from heaven's wrath or human blame, unburdened by external things, unaccused by spirits, he becomes universally revered.

Su Zhe (Yingbin) adds: What can be made intimate can be made distant; what can be tempted by gain can be threatened by loss; what can be elevated can be debased. Those who embody the Dao regard all things equally—how could they distinguish intimacy from distance? Viewing fortune and misfortune alike—how could they separate profit from harm? Knowing nothing of honor or disgrace—how could they discern nobility from baseness? These realms transcend ordinary human understanding, hence their universal reverence.

Lu Dian concludes: The Divine Man (the Dao-realized) neither deliberately approaches nor avoids, neither bound nor deliberately liberated—thus unaffected by intimacy or distance. Neither born nor perishing, neither grasping nor rejecting—thus unmoved by profit or loss. Neither increasing nor decreasing, neither gaining nor losing—thus unmeasured by nobility or baseness. Therefore, they shine with the sun and moon, coexist with the cosmos, viewing heaven and earth as a single chamber, all things as one treasury. The energy they spare suffices to govern nations; the things they discard suffice to teach humanity—even their dregs and dust could produce sage-kings like Yao and Shun. How could anything in this world possibly affect such Perfect Men?

This passage elucidates how the Dao (the fundamental cosmic principle) transcends worldly value judgments. Cao Daochong, a Northern Song dynasty Daoist master, explains: The true Dao never actively engages with all things, yet naturally remains close to them; it doesn't inflame desires, yet maintains appropriate distance; it doesn't deliberately seek gain, yet benefits all beings; it doesn't violate taboos, yet avoids calamities; it doesn't pursue glory, yet maintains nobility; it doesn't sink into baseness, yet rises above vulgarity.

Chen Xianggu, a Song dynasty scholar, adds: Concepts like closeness/distance, benefit/harm, and nobility/baseness are distinctions clung to by worldly people. The true "Great Dao" transcends these relative concepts—it has no fixed form and emits no audible sound, so how could it possibly be measured by mundane standards?

Huang Maocai, another Song scholar, references Confucius' famous analogy comparing Laozi to a dragon: Just as the divine dragon cannot be defined by categories like closeness/distance, benefit/harm, or nobility/baseness, so too is the Great Dao. If we say the Dao cannot be measured by worldly standards, why then is it called "the most noble under heaven"? This is because the Dao inherently possesses supreme value. As the scripture states: "The fewer who understand me, the more precious I become"—true nobility lies not in worldly recognition, but in its intrinsically sublime nature.

(Note: The "dragon analogy"典故 originates from Records of the Grand Historian's "Biographies of Laozi and Han Fei," where Confucius used the metaphor of an elusive dragon to describe the unfathomable depth of Laozi's thought.)