《道德真經玄德纂疏》Vol. 12

This passage comes from Chapter 41 of the Tang Dynasty commentary Xuande Compilation of the Dao De Jing's Profound Virtue, which discusses how people of different capacities respond upon hearing about the Dao. Through contrasting the reactions of superior, middling, and inferior practitioners, it illustrates how comprehending the Dao requires corresponding wisdom and dedication.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang notes in his commentary that those of superior capacity, upon hearing the Great Dao, can deeply comprehend it and therefore practice diligently. Cheng Xuanying further explains that such individuals possess penetrating wisdom—the moment they hear the supreme Dao, they realize the truth of "all phenomena being empty" (a Buddhist term indicating the illusory nature of all conditioned existence), and thus cultivate tirelessly without fear of hardship. He Shanggong and Li Rong add that superior practitioners have profound faith in the Dao, with unwavering resolve; neither seasonal extremes nor the erosion of metal and stone could alter their commitment, as they practice diligently with constant devotion.

Those of middling capacity, upon hearing the Dao, respond with hesitation. Emperor Xuanzong observes that such people waver between advancement and regression, harboring doubts that make their attitude toward the Dao ambiguous—sometimes remembering, sometimes forgetting. This vacillating state reflects their incomplete and unsteady understanding of the Dao.

Through these contrasts, the text emphasizes that genuine cultivation requires the profound insight and steadfast determination exemplified by superior practitioners, not the indecisiveness of middling ones. The mention of "all phenomena being empty," while originally a Buddhist concept referring to the dependent and illusory nature of all things, is here employed to elucidate the essence of the Dao.

A Commentary on the Mysterious Virtue of the True Classic of the Dao and De

The Middling Person Hears of the Dao: It Seems Present, It Seems Gone

General meaning of the passage:

People of middling understanding have not yet sorted out wisdom from confusion. When they hear of the subtle Dao, they sometimes believe and sometimes doubt. It seems to be there, then seems to have vanished; unable to make up their minds, they are said to find it “seemingly present, seemingly gone.”

Additional commentary:

Yu’s commentary: Their wisdom is neither clearly bright nor clearly dim. When they hear of the Dao, they believe it if it seems reasonable and doubt it if it seems mysterious. In the end, they cannot make up their minds.

Heshanggong: If middling people use the Dao to cultivate themselves or govern the state, they may accept it gladly for a time. But when they turn back to wealth, beauty, and reputation, or are stirred by desire, they put the Dao aside. Thus it is said to be “present” and then “gone.”

Rong: They are like plain silk that takes on the color of whatever dye it meets. Middling people have no settled view; their thoughts shift with their likes and dislikes. When they hear the true Dao and see that it can help them live in peace and govern the state, they “keep the Dao in mind and forget worldly concerns.” But when wealth and sensual pleasures delight them, they “keep worldly concerns in mind and forget the Dao.”

Cheng’s commentary: Middling people are clever enough, but do not understand the underlying principle. Though they hear of the Dao, they cannot fully awaken to it. For a time, they gather their minds and turn toward the Dao, and their minds become empty and clear. But once they engage with worldly affairs, they fall back into a realm of forms and appearances. They waver between “being with the Dao” and “following custom,” so their state is called uncertain, “present and gone.”

The Lowest Person Hears of the Dao and Laughs

General meaning of the passage:

People of the lowest understanding burst into laughter when they hear of the Dao.

Additional commentary:

Yu’s commentary: Their understanding is too limited to believe in the Dao. Thinking it absurd, they mock it. It is like wearing a Zhangfu cap in Yue, where people look down on it, or treating the He family’s jade as an ordinary stone and throwing it away in Chu. Zhuangzi said, “You cannot speak of the Dao to those with narrow views.”

Heshanggong: The lowest people are greedy, harsh, and full of desires. They find the Dao’s gentleness frightening and its simplicity shabby, so they laugh.

Rong: Their minds revolve around gain and loss. They see only what is near, not what is far; they cannot distinguish truth from falsehood, and their understanding is shallow. They enjoy only the small cleverness of worldly life, and so mock the great Dao of purity and Wuwei (non-action).

Cheng’s commentary: Those of dull nature think the true Dao too remote and its words too grand. Unable to grasp it, they take it for nonsense, slander it, and clap their hands as they laugh.

If It Were Not Laughed At, It Would Not Be the Dao

General meaning of the passage:

If the lowest people did not mock it, it would not be worthy of being called the Dao.

Additional commentary:

Yu’s commentary: If people of the lowest understanding do not mock it, then it cannot yet be counted as the Dao in its utmost mystery.

Yu’s commentary, continued: The highest Dao is hidden and mysterious, profound beyond measure. On the surface it seems obscure and runs counter to ordinary human feelings, so it invites laughter. If even the lowest people do not laugh at it, it is probably a shallow, conventional teaching, not the true Dao. The Dao is not an ordinary worldly teaching. It is often mocked by common, foolish people; precisely for this reason, its subtlety is revealed.

Summary:

This passage describes Laozi’s degrees of response to the Dao: the highest person practices it diligently, the middling person finds it seemingly present and seemingly gone, and the lowest person laughs. The middling person wavers, while the lowest person disbelieves and mocks. “If it were not laughed at, it would not be the Dao”: the true Dao often runs counter to convention and draws ridicule. Being laughed at suggests that it is no shallow teaching designed to please popular tastes.

The Lord on the River said: If the Way is not mocked by people of the lowest rank, it is not worthy of being called the Way.

Rong said: The Way is profound and mysterious, and people of the lowest rank cannot understand it. The Way is subtle and reaches everywhere, so the most foolish people find it hard to recognize. Being mocked today does not muddy the true Way; instead, it makes its purity and lofty remoteness stand out all the more.

Master Cheng’s subcommentary said: If it is not mocked by ordinary people, it is not worthy of being called the sage’s Way.

The Saying Goes

The Imperial Commentary said: “Establish” means that one is about to set forth words explaining the three ranks of people and their differing attitudes toward the Way.

The Imperial Subcommentary said: “Establish” means that one is about to set forth words explaining the Way diligently practiced by those of the highest rank, the principle of preservation and loss for those of the middle rank, and the reason those of the lowest rank mock it. “The saying goes” refers to what follows, including the passage on “understanding the Way.”

The Lord on the River said: “Establish” means that the Way has already been set forth in words, as it should be according to what follows.

Rong said: Human dispositions differ, and people’s choices arise from different inclinations. The sage establishes principles and teaches without teaching. Ordinary people turn toward or away from the Way according to their feelings, and some do not believe in it.

Master Cheng’s subcommentary said: “Establish” refers to the Way practiced by those of the highest rank, set forth in the words that follow under “the saying goes,” including the passage on “understanding the Way.”

Second: On People Who Embody the Way Concealing Their Brilliance

Understanding the Way Seems Like Ignorance

The Imperial Commentary said: “Understanding the Way seems like ignorance; advancing on the Way seems like retreat; the level Way seems uneven.” Those of the highest rank diligently practice being clear yet seeming ignorant, advancing yet seeming to retreat, and level yet seeming uneven. For this reason, those of the middle rank are perplexed, while those of the lowest rank laugh aloud.

The Imperial Subcommentary said: “Clear” means illuminated; “ignorant” means obscure. Those who cultivate the Way and De nurture clarity through obscurity, leave behind bodily form and discard cleverness, yet are in fact fully clear. Hence they are said to seem ignorant. This means that those of the highest rank diligently practice being clear yet seeming ignorant; those of the lowest rank fail to understand and therefore mock them; and those of the middle rank, when they first hear of understanding the Way, seem to retain it, but later, when they hear that it is like obscurity, seem to forget it.

The Lord on the River said: Those who understand the Way seem obscure, as though they see nothing.

Rong said: To have wisdom that encompasses everything is clarity; to shine without dazzling is obscurity.

Master Cheng’s subcommentary said: “Obscure” means dark. Those who illuminate and reach the true Way conceal their traces and conform to ordinary life. They do not display their clarity, but seem foolish and dim.

Advancing on the Way Seems Like Retreat

The Imperial Commentary said: Those who advance on the Way have no stirring in their hearts and forget all external affairs. Their merit and fame diminish day by day; great completion seems deficient. Those of the lowest rank look upon them and think they are retreating and failing.

The Lord on the River said: Those who seek to advance on the Way seem to retreat, as though they cannot keep up.

Rong said: Hearing…

An Annotated Commentary on the True Classic of the Dao and De

“Great completion seems incomplete” and the way of advancing and yielding

Daoist teaching says that cultivating the Dao depends on diligent practice and inward progress, yet outwardly one may seem “to lack something” or to be yielding. Cheng’s commentary explains that people of great De (Virtue/Power) act without leaving traces of self-display. They continue their inner cultivation, while outwardly seeming to withdraw and hold back. This is the meaning of “great completion seems incomplete.”

“The level way seems uneven”

“Level” means plain and equal. Here, “uneven” does not simply mean “varied”; it is like a strand of silk that is irregular, coarse in some places and fine in others, and so does not look smooth.

The Imperial Commentary explains that people whose consciousness is pure and whose desires do not arise are inwardly calm and unassuming, with no separation between themselves and the myriad things. Yet in their outward bearing, they may seem like silk with knots in it, not entirely “smooth and polished.”

Heshang Gong says that those who accord with the Great Dao do not deliberately seek novelty or set themselves apart from others. On the surface, they seem no different from ordinary people.

Rong’s commentary emphasizes that being level with the Dao means being equal, without distinction, and blending with the light and dust. Thus one seems “uneven”: indistinguishable from the crowd.

Cheng’s commentary explains this in terms of the “equal Dao”: practitioners know that all beings share one body with them, and do not divide people according to foolishness or wisdom, or higher and lower standing. They treat everyone alike. Heshang Gong, Cheng, Li’s commentary, and others explain “uneven” in the sense of “equal” or “alike.”

“Superior De is like a valley”

The Imperial Commentary says: empty and humble, able to receive the myriad things.

The Imperial Commentary on the Commentary says that those who practice diligently are called “people of superior De.” Their De is complete and its radiance extends everywhere, containing all things without exception. So they are like a valley: empty, yet able to contain.

Heshang Gong says that people of superior De are like a deep valley. They are not ashamed of what is impure and can contain anything.

Rong says: able to contain everything.

Cheng’s commentary says that people of the highest moral character are as vast as the Great Void and can contain the myriad things, like an empty valley. In another textual version, the word is written “common folk.” This means they can also “forget De,” making no display of their lofty character and seeming no different from ordinary people.

“The brightest white seems tarnished”

The Imperial Commentary says: utterly pure, yet able to contain what is sullied.

The Imperial Commentary on the Commentary explains that “white” means pure, while “tarnish” means dust and grime. Those who attain the pure Dao conceal their traces and blend with the dust. Hence they seem “as if disgraced,” though in truth their purity remains wholly intact.

Heshang Gong says that those who are supremely pure seem to bear disgrace, but do not show themselves off.

Rong says: being coarse without being impure is the brightest white; blending with the light and dust and merging with turbid forms makes one seem “tarnished.”

Cheng’s commentary says that white means purity and tarnish means contamination. People of lofty purity blend with the light and dust and do not display themselves outwardly. Thus they can mingle amid the waves, seeming to be stained. This is the meaning of Dongfang Shuo’s saying, “Make your Dao pure, but your traces sullied.”

“Broad De seems insufficient”

The Imperial Commentary says: even when one’s achievements are complete, one remains humble and yielding.

The Imperial Commentary on the Commentary says that the De of the perfected person extends to all things, yet that person remains gentle and humble. They therefore continually seem “not quite sufficient,” as though they still had more cultivation to do.

Reading note

This group of passages uses the language of the Dao De Jing that “the movement of the Dao is reversal”: true completeness seems deficient, true evenness seems uneven, superior De seems like a valley, true purity seems to contain grime, and broad De seems insufficient. The commentaries converge on one point: inwardly, one is full; outwardly, one appears humble, accommodating, and unassuming. This is not pretense, but a way of conduct and cultivation that accords with the Dao.

The truly wise merchant keeps treasures deeply concealed, appearing as if possessing nothing; the noble person of virtue (De), though profoundly cultivated within, appears dull and ignorant outwardly. (Heshang Gong's commentary explains: Those with vast virtue appear foolish and slow. Master Rong interprets: The fullest state paradoxically appears empty.)

Establishing merit should be done as stealthily as stealing. (Emperor Xuanzong's imperial commentary: Achievements should be made without ostentation. The imperial annotation explains: Those who cultivate hidden virtue practice in secret, like thieves fearing discovery. Heshang Gong states: Those cultivating the Dao and virtue appear easily led and seemingly empty. Cheng Xuanying explains: Truly virtuous people conceal their fame and obscure their traces, unwilling to be known like thieves—hence the earlier passage in the Dao De Jing states "as if fearing their neighbors.")

The genuinely simple and pure appear changeable. (The imperial commentary explains: Though inwardly pure, they adapt harmoniously to the world. The annotation says: Those cultivating virtue maintain singular purity without affectation—seeming to follow the current while preserving inner radiance. Heshang Gong observes: The simple resemble blended colors appearing indistinct. Master Rong states: Unadulterated nature remains unstained; while comprehending eternal truth, it flows with life's transformations. Cheng Xuanying explains: The truly awakened remain perfectly still in silence yet respond spontaneously in action—thus appearing mutable.)

The most perfectly square form has no corners. (Imperial commentary: It shows no deliberate sharp edges. The annotation explains: Those who flaunt moral superiority are merely commoners bound by dogma. True Dao practitioners resemble jade—unworn by polishing, unblackened by dye—harmonizing with worldly affairs without losing essence, hence cornerless. Heshang Gong says: The truly square don't display angles. Master Rong observes: All things have form and position, yet the supreme Dao is formless. Cheng Xuanying explains: Those attaining great wisdom remain square yet never reveal sharp edges.)

Plain-Language Interpretation

A refined person is gentle in temperament and follows the natural principles of things. They do not cling rigidly to dogma, nor do they deliberately seek novelty or insist on being sharp-edged in every situation. This is what is meant by “reaching the heights”: having the good judgment to conduct oneself with insight and ease.

“The greatest vessels take the longest to complete.”

The Imperial Commentary says: Do not seek small achievements in the present.

The Explanatory Commentary says: The Dao responds to everything, and the function of objects is called “vessel.” Great things can be completed only through slowness and time. A superior adept, a person of profound De (Virtue/Power), diligently cultivates and puts the teachings into practice, accumulating merit and De. Realization comes gradually, not in a day or two; hence the saying, “take the longest to complete.”

Heshang Gong says: A great vessel, like the Nine Tripods or a Húlián ritual vessel—important ceremonial vessels in ancient times—cannot be cast all at once.

Rong’s Commentary says: With long practice, habits become second nature; beauty takes shape over time. We can see from this that cultivation cannot be completed in a day or two.

The Cheng Commentary says: The Húlián and the Nine Tripods cannot be made in a single day. They are metaphors for those who study the Great Dao: they should not expect to realize the utmost emptiness in a short time, but must cultivate and investigate it through countless eons, with the patience of Lord Ren fishing for a great catch.

“The greatest sound is barely audible.”

The Imperial Commentary says: Do not rely on clever words or lesser forms of writing.

The Explanatory Commentary says: The Dao responds to every sound, and the greatest “sound” is the sound of the Dao. It is heard as though almost silent; this is called “barely audible.” The sage proclaims the Great Teaching of the One Vehicle, whose Dharma sound spreads far and wide and emerges in response to the conditions and those who are receptive. Hence it is called barely audible.

Heshang Gong says: The greatest sound is like thunder, moving when its time comes. This is a metaphor for constantly nourishing and cherishing Qi (vital energy), and speaking little.

Rong’s Commentary says: A great bell rings at the proper moment; the mysterious teaching is imparted in response to the conditions.

The Cheng Commentary says: “Barely” means almost nothing. The great sound of the ultimate Dao is, in its source, silent and still. As it flows from the source into its manifestations, it remains silent even in those manifestations. Even Shikuang, the ancient master of hearing, could not hear it. The sound of jade reverberates through the cosmos: this shows that manifestation and source are one, and so it is said that the greatest sound is barely audible.

“The greatest image has no form.”

The Imperial Commentary says: Thus it can respond to the myriad kinds of things.

The Explanatory Commentary says: Whatever takes the form of a tangible object is confined to one corner. Only the Dao of the “greatest image” has no substance or form. It responds to whatever it encounters and can appear in all forms; hence it is called the greatest image without form.

Heshang Gong says: Those who model themselves on the great image are simple and unadorned, with no appearance to which they are bound.

Rong’s Commentary says: The greatest image has no form, and the Dao is hidden and nameless. Emptiness contains every image, which is why it is called the greatest image. Since there is no image that can be grasped, it is said to have no form. Its form cannot be seen; hence the Dao is hidden and cannot be described.

The Cheng Commentary says: The “image” of the Great Dao has an image but no fixed form; it is formless yet can reveal forms. Even Liju, the ancient man with extraordinary eyesight, could not see its form. Its forms and colors fill the empty sky. This shows that manifestation and absence of manifestation are one, and so it is said that the greatest image has no form.

Summary: All three sayings express the same idea: the highest Dao and De are often unobtrusive, slow to come to fruition, and free of fixed form. True cultivation and the true function of a vessel both take shape gradually through time, simplicity, and formlessness.

The General Meaning of the Scripture

“The greatest image has no form.”

This means that the greatest image has no fixed shape.

The Dao is hidden and nameless.

Imperial Commentary: The Dao does not display its own workings.

Imperial Subcommentary: The Dao that “pervades life and is strong” forgets its own workings, remaining hidden and nameless. If one tries to use a name to describe its substance, its subtle source has no image, and so its substance cannot be named. Hence the saying, “The Dao is hidden and nameless.”

Heshang Gong: The Dao lies concealed and obscure, so that no one can identify its name.

Cheng’s Subcommentary: The subtle source of the highest Dao is hidden in darkness and mystery. It cannot be measured by physical forms, nor expressed in words.

The Third Praise of the Dao’s Function: Giving Rise to All Things

“Only the Dao is skilled at giving and bringing things to completion.”

Imperial Commentary: Though hidden and nameless, the Dao truly excels at supporting and bestowing upon all things through its subtle workings of harmony and emptiness, and at bringing them to maturity.

Imperial Subcommentary: This concludes and praises the Dao’s function. “Only” is an opening word; “alone” means that the Dao is unique; “give” means to bestow. The passage praises the Dao: though it has no name or title, form or sound, it alone can spread Qi and bring about transformation, support all things, and bring them to maturity. Hence it says, “skilled at giving and bringing things to completion.”

Heshang Gong: “Completion” means accomplishment. The Dao is skilled at receiving and bestowing Jing and Qi upon people, and at bringing them to fulfillment.

Rong says: Advancing as though retreating: it advances without advancing, and seems to retreat while neither advancing nor retreating. Bright as though dim: it is not brightness, yet seems dim; it is not dimness, yet seems bright. The utmost truth of the Dao is neither advance nor retreat, neither brightness nor dimness. It has no color or sound, no form or name. Though nameless, what name could it not establish? Though without image, what image could it not reveal? Thus it can spread Qi and bring about transformation, sustaining all that exists. It acts without relying on its deeds, leaving things to their own nature.

Cheng’s Subcommentary: “Give” means to lend. This nameless Dao alone has great compassion: it can humble itself to save living beings, lend them its beneficial power, nurture every kind of creature, give rise to and transform Heaven, Earth, and humanity, and help them attain completion through a variety of skillful means.

Chapter Order and Structure: “The Dao Gives Rise to One,” Chapter 42

“The Dao Gives Rise to One,” Chapter 42

Why does the chapter “The Dao Gives Rise to One” follow the previous chapter? The previous chapter explained “greatness.” The Dao responds as needed, gives generously, and brings things to completion; therefore, this chapter follows it and explains that the things the Dao gives rise to do not emerge in a simple sequence. The meaning of this chapter can be divided into three parts:

First, it explains how the Dao responds as needed and transforms to give rise to things.

Second, it reveals the nature of things and encourages the practice of moderation and harmony.

Third, it elaborates on softness and weakness as the starting point of learning.

Plain-Language Commentary

I. The Main Theme of This Chapter: Clarifying the Dao, Adapting to Circumstances, Responding and Transforming, and the Origins of All Things

How One Qi fashions all things

The subtle, profound Qi of harmony and balance pervades the realm of the ineffable and invisible. The Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), revered divine beings, appeared first; their meaning rests in the truth of emptiness, stillness, and serenity. Sometimes they ride clouds and dragons through the Great Luo Heaven, unseen; sometimes they ascend to the jeweled realm, sounding flutes and drums, unheard. They emerge from the human world in quiet simplicity and transcend all forms in silence. Though surrounded by a thousand chariots and ten thousand riders, the Old Lord once traveled as far as Jibin, yet went about his work without outward action. The Celestial Worthy sits in the land of Li and understands that “life gives rise to three, which blow across the ten thousand things; they bear Yin and embrace Yang”—all of this is gathered into the great power of harmonious, wondrous stillness.

II. Scripture

The Dao gives birth to One. One gives birth to Two. Two gives birth to Three. Three gives birth to the ten thousand things.

III. Imperial Commentary

“ The Dao gives birth to One. One gives birth to Two. Two gives birth to Three.” Here, “One” refers to harmonizing Qi.

This means that the Dao first stirs forth wondrous Qi of harmony to give birth to things. This alone is not enough, so it also gives rise to Yang Qi. Yang Qi cannot bring things into being by itself, so Yin Qi arises as well. As harmonizing Qi gathers, it forms “One”; hence the saying, “One gives birth to Two.” As Yang Qi gathers, it forms “Two”; hence the saying, “Two gives birth to Three.” Thereafter, Yin and Yang contain and nourish one another, while harmonizing Qi brings them into balance, and only then are the ten thousand things formed. Hence the saying, “Three gives birth to the ten thousand things.”

IV. Imperial Subcommentary

The Dao is the numinous source of the ultimate void. “One” is the refined Qi of harmony and balance. “Birth” means to stir and emerge.

The passage says that the Dao stirs forth harmonizing Qi to give birth to the ten thousand things. Yet this is still not quite enough to explain the principle of responding and transforming, so Yang Qi is generated as well. When Yang Qi gathers, it forms “One,” which is called “Two.” Pure Yang cannot give birth on its own, so Yin Qi is generated too. When Yin Qi gathers, it forms “Two,” which is called “Three.” “Three gives birth to the ten thousand things” means that Yin and Yang join in harmony and harmonizing Qi transforms and matures; in this way, every kind of living being comes into being. This passage explains how the Dao responds and gives freely, and how things are generated.

V. Commentary by Heshanggong

“The Dao gives birth to One”: The first thing the Dao gives birth to is “One.”

“One gives birth to Two”: One gives rise to Yin and Yang.

“Two gives birth to Three”: Yin and Yang give rise to harmonizing Qi. The three Qi—clear, turbid, and harmonizing—separate into Heaven, Earth, and humanity.

“Three gives birth to the ten thousand things”: Heaven, Earth, and humanity together give birth to the ten thousand things. Heaven bestows, Earth transforms, and humanity nurtures.

VI. Rong’s Commentary

“The Dao gives birth to One”: Qi stirs within the void, so we say that the Dao gives birth to primordial Qi. Primordial Qi has not yet divided, so we call it “One.”

“One gives birth to Two”: The clear and turbid separate, and Yin and Yang become apparent.

“Two gives birth to Three”: The two Qi revolve and form the Three Powers: Heaven, Earth, and humanity.

“Three gives birth to the ten thousand things”: The round Heaven arches above, the square Earth bears below, and humanity dwells between them. From these, the ten thousand things are born.

Brief Explanations of Terms (first occurrences)

The earth bears all things, and humans dwell between heaven and earth—what could possibly fail to flourish? This describes the sequence of cosmic generation: first the undifferentiated primordial Qi (the initial manifestation of Dao), which then divides into Yin and Yang energies. These give rise to the Three Powers (heaven, earth, and humanity), from which all sentient beings and inanimate objects ultimately emerge. The supreme Dao itself is formless and without appearance, yet from its origin gradually manifests—first generating primordial Qi, which in turn evolves into Yin and Yang. The clear, light Yang energy ascends to become heaven, while the turbid, heavy Yin energy descends to form earth. The interaction of these two produces the harmonizing Qi that gives birth to humanity. Only when these Three Powers are complete can the myriad things be transformed and born. This passage illustrates how the Dao progressively nurtures all existence.

All things contain the two opposing attributes of Yin and Yang, achieving harmonious unity through "chong Qi" (the harmonizing energy of Yin-Yang interaction). Emperor Xuanzong of Tang commented: All things come into being through the blending of Yin and Yang energies, thus internally possessing both attributes while nurturing the harmonizing Qi that reconciles them. Guangchengzi (a legendary immortal) once told the Yellow Emperor: "I maintain the Dao of pure unity, embracing the harmonizing Qi—thus cultivating my body for twelve hundred years without physical decay." This demonstrates that the balanced state of primordial Qi is the foundation of life. Laozi mentions this to show that since humans are born endowed with harmonizing Qi, they should maintain gentle dispositions—soft and yielding like the feminine principle—as this preserves the root of life.

Heshang Gong (Han dynasty commentator) explained: All things carry Yin on their backs while facing Yang, just as plants grow toward sunlight. Within all things exists the Qi that harmonizes Yin and Yang, maintaining resilient vitality—like organs within an animal's chest, marrow within bones, or air channels within plant stems. These structures allow energy circulation and sustain life. Li Rong (Tang dynasty Daoist) added: Pure Yang alone is too hot, pure Yin alone too cold—neither can generate life. Only through the Dao's operation, mediated by chong Qi's harmonizing function, can the myriad things be born.

Cheng Xuanying (Tang dynasty representative of the Chongxuan school) further elucidated: "Carrying" means bearing on one's back, while "embracing" means facing forward. Yang symbolizes life, Yin symbolizes death. All living beings instinctively turn toward vitality and avoid death, yet ordinary people flee mortality only to inevitably die, yearning for longevity without knowing the method. The sages, compassionate toward beings, will later reveal the essential techniques for longevity. Here it is particularly emphasized that Dao practitioners should return to life's authentic harmonious state through cultivation methods that balance Yin and Yang.

Plain-language interpretation

Blending Qi to achieve harmony

“Blending” means bringing things into balance; “harmony” means being in accord. The point is that if people wish to live long and avoid an early death, they must keep their minds upright, modest, and yielding. Only then can they live long. That is why the text goes on to say, “The strong and forceful belong to death; the soft and yielding belong to life”: the forceful move toward death, while the yielding move toward life.

Third: An extended discussion of softness and yielding as the starting point for learning and conduct

“What people dislike is being called ‘orphan,’ ‘widower,’ or ‘unworthy one,’ yet lords and princes use these as their titles.”

All things take the Qi of balance and harmony as their foundation. Those who can preserve this balanced Qi and remain soft and yielding must be humble and yielding. Thus, even though lords and princes hold the highest rank, they call themselves by humble terms such as “orphan,” “widower,” and “unworthy one”—taking humility and yielding as their foundation.

Imperial Commentary: Balanced Qi and softness are the roots of life, so the text uses the humility of lords and princes as an example. “Orphan,” “widower,” and “unworthy one” were names associated with misfortune and ill omen, not with honor and distinction. Ordinary people dislike them, yet lords and princes use them for themselves: this is humility at its utmost. Lords and princes guide the customs of the realm and are looked up to by all under Heaven. If they did not honor humility and yielding to secure the peace of the state, people would not rally to them. Therefore, they take humility and yielding as their foundation and thereby achieve great accomplishments.

Heshang Gong: “Orphan,” “widower,” and “unworthy one” are names associated with ill fortune. Lords and princes use them as titles to model humility, emptiness, and harmony.

Rong says: Those who embrace the Qi of balance and harmony neither favor nor reject anything, and do not stray from the Way of the One Origin. Though they may feel affection and aversion, they value the name of the wealthy and honored and take no pleasure in being called orphaned or widowed. Only lords and princes who possess the Dao humble themselves and cultivate restraint; the principle is to be modest and to step back, so they adopt these names.

Cheng’s subcommentary: Being alone, widowed, or bereaved was considered unfortunate, and it is only natural for people to dislike such conditions. Yet lords and nobles use these terms to humble themselves. This clearly illustrates that “the noble takes the lowly as its root, and the high takes the low as its foundation.” It encourages practitioners to keep their minds humble and accommodating.

“Thus, some things are diminished and thereby gain; others are increased and thereby lose.”

Imperial Commentary: If you diminish yourself, others will add to you; if you add to yourself, others will diminish you. Thus, “those who pay homage are skilled at placing themselves below.” Humility and yielding are the handle of De (Virtue/Power); is it not fitting, then, to call oneself an orphan, a widower, or an unworthy one?

Imperial Subcommentary: “Thus” connects this passage to what came before. “Diminished” means lowering or disparaging oneself. When lords and princes call themselves orphans and widowers, they lower themselves; the people gladly elevate, honor, and serve them, and so they gain. As for “others are increased and thereby lose”...

On Being Haughty in High Position and Gaining through Humility

When rulers and nobles indulge themselves and grow arrogant in high positions, those beneath them will become alienated, bringing harm upon them. An ancient book says, “Self-satisfaction invites harm; humility brings benefit.” This is what that means.

Heshanggong says: Thus, sometimes a thing is reduced and thereby benefits: when you yield and refuse to claim everything for yourself, the benefit eventually returns to you. Sometimes a thing is increased and thereby suffers harm: what is piled too high will collapse, and greed for wealth and status will bring calamity.

Rong says: Though a person who follows the Dao holds a position of wealth and rank, they regard themselves as “solitary and bereft”—this is reduction, diminishing the self. The radiance of humility and gentleness renews itself day by day: this is benefit. A person without De (Virtue/Power) enjoys wealth and rank without merit and thinks they are increasing their good fortune. Their abilities do not match their position, yet they occupy a high place, so they are bound to fall. This is harm.

The Cheng Commentary says: Humility and gentleness mean diminishing oneself to help all things. All things will surely turn to such a person, who is thereby preserved in the Dao. Boastfulness and arrogance mean increasing oneself to dominate all things. All things will surely overcome such a person, bringing danger and ruin. Danger and ruin are harm; preserving one’s life is benefit. This is how the effects of harm and benefit come about. Hence the saying, “Reduce it and it benefits; increase it and it suffers harm.”

“What people teach, I teach as well”

The Imperial Commentary, attributed to Laozi, says: When a ruler seeks to establish teachings and instruct the people, they should teach them the principles of gentleness, yielding, and humility that I, Laozi, have explained.

The Imperial Subcommentary says: “People” here refers to the ruler. The ruler stands at the head of government and instruction; the character of the whole country depends on one person and is shaped by them. Laozi therefore makes his meaning clear: if a ruler wishes to use spoken teaching to influence the people, they must teach the principles of emptiness, yielding, and gentleness that I, Laozi, have described.

Heshanggong says: “What people teach” refers to what people generally teach: to cast off gentleness and seek strength, to cast off yielding and seek hardness. “I teach as well” means that I teach this too: I teach people to cast off strength and return to gentleness, to cast off hardness and return to yielding.

Rong says: In the teachings commonly practiced in the world, the principle is framed in terms of benevolence and righteousness, while conduct tends toward strength. Yet strength belongs to the realm of death, and benevolence and righteousness are the superficial trappings of the Dao. This is also what “I teach what is fitting” means: people should leave strength behind and hold to gentleness, turn away from benevolence and righteousness, and rest in the Dao and De. It is also said that sages are skilled at teaching living beings: what they teach matches their capacity to teach, and their instruction is appropriate. “Fitting” means appropriate.

The Cheng Commentary says: Ordinary people and Confucians also value humility and gentleness. My teaching, however, regards stillness and withdrawal as precious. Confucian and popular forms of humility and gentleness still involve attachment; what is precious in my stillness and withdrawal is emptiness and forgetting. In this way, my teaching differs from theirs.

Those who act with force and aggression often come into conflict with all things. Seeking to gain, they instead suffer loss, and may even be struck down. Thus they cannot live out their natural lifespans.

Imperial Commentary: “Forceful and aggressive” refers to people who are violent and headstrong. Such people lose the essentials of nurturing life and are bound to die young, unable to reach the end of their natural lifespans. The commentary says, “When one’s actions oppose things, things may strike back.” To “oppose” means to resist; “things may strike back” recalls the words spoken of the ninth line at the top of the Yijing, “益” (“Increase”): “No one increases him; someone may strike him.”

Heshanggong’s Commentary: “The forceful and aggressive” are those who do not believe in the mysterious and subtle, turn away from De, disregard the teachings of the scriptures, and prize power and military force. They do not reach the end of their natural lifespans: Heaven cuts them off, and they are struck down by weapons or put to death under the laws of the ruler.

Yan Zun’s Commentary: The powerful Qin perished through tyranny, while the Han dynasty prospered through harmony and compliance. Those who are forceful and aggressive lose the Dao; those who are rigid and restless lose their spirit. How could they endure in the world?

Rong Yi’s Commentary: The forceful and aggressive do not reach the end of their natural lifespans. Laozi says, “I will take this as the father of teachings.” To disobey the commands of one’s father or ruler, to reject the sages’ instruction, to covet honor and cling to victory, and to exalt oneself over others—these are forms of forceful aggression. Those who violate regulations and break the law cannot enjoy the full span of their years; they die prematurely and do not reach the end of their natural lifespans. All things accord with the Dao, and the sages leave nothing without instruction. When people’s ordinary inclinations stray from what is right, the teachers of instruction speak to them: they use the outward beauty of benevolence and righteousness to reveal the substance of De, and respond to a forceful, aggressive nature by teaching the way of softness and weakness. “Father” means the root: softness and weakness are the root of the teaching.

Cheng Xuanying’s Subcommentary: The forceful and aggressive do not reach the end of their natural lifespans. Laozi says, “I will take this as the father of teachings.” “Forceful and aggressive” means rigid and restless; “father” means the root. This says that such people are bound to die young, without living out the lifespan allotted by Heaven. Although the Old Lord expounded the Dharma in many ways and his wondrous teachings took many forms, he consistently taught that softness and weakness are good, while rigidity and strength are bad. This is a fitting and essential principle, and the starting point for those who study the Dao.

“I will take this as the father of teachings.”

Imperial Commentary: I have seen the forceful and aggressive perish, while the soft and weak remain whole. Therefore, I take this teaching of softness and weakness as the father of all teachings.

Imperial Subcommentary: “Father” means the root. This sentence sums up the foundation of cultivation and study. The Old Lord cites the destruction of the forceful and aggressive as a warning, and presents the wholeness of the soft and weak as an encouragement. In saying, “I will take this as the father of teachings,” he means that, just as a father is the root of his children, this teaching of softness and weakness will be the root of all teachings.

This passage elucidates Laozi's concept that "the soft and weak overcome the hard and strong." The text begins with a metaphor of father-son relationships, illustrating how Laozi uses strong-willed individuals as the starting point for moral instruction (the "teaching father" signifies the beginning of spiritual guidance).

The analysis then focuses on the chapter about "the softest thing under heaven." While the previous chapter established softness and weakness as primary Daoist cultivation principles, this section further demonstrates their efficacy and the benefits of Wuwei (non-action). The content unfolds in three layers: first using metaphors to show how softness overcomes hardness, then explaining how gentle actions penetrate even seamless barriers, and finally praising non-action as the rarest and highest form of teaching.

Nothing in the world is softer than water, yet it flows unhindered through the hardest metals and stones. Human nature is originally pure and gentle (zhengxing, the true nature), but when chasing worldly desires and seduced by sensory pleasures, it becomes rigid and unyielding. Though soft, water can penetrate metal and erode mountains; though formless, the Dao can dissolve human stubbornness. By emulating water's pliability and comprehending the Dao, one can navigate human relationships with unobstructed ease and face all adversities.

Here, water's properties metaphorically reveal the Dao's essence: seemingly soft yet omnipresent, apparently insubstantial yet all-encompassing. Daoist practitioners should emulate this paradox of gentle-yet-invincible quality, maintaining their innate purity uncontaminated by external influences.

This scripture employs the contrast between water and metal to elucidate the core Daoist principle that "the soft and weak overcome the hard and strong." The most yielding substance can conquer the most unyielding—just as water, though supremely soft, can penetrate solid metal and stone. This metaphor illustrates how Wuwei (non-action), though appearing weakest, can dissolve the constraints created by excessive striving ("youwei").

The text further explains the profound meaning of "the formless enters the seamless." "Formless" refers to a mind unattached to external objects, maintaining pure emptiness; "seamless" describes the Dao's inherently perfect and unimpeded nature. When undisturbed by desires and achieving perfect stillness of mind, one merges with the Dao, entering this seamless state of completion. Thus, the sages declare: only when body and mind are purified can one unite with the Dao—proving that deliberate teachings cannot match the natural efficacy of Wuwei.

Commentators offer varied interpretations: Heshanggong identifies the "formless" as the Dao itself, which being without substance can permeate all gaps; Yan Junping emphasizes how the benefits of Wuwei manifest spontaneously when divine awareness resides within; Cheng Xuanying observes that ordinary people cling to "form" due to delusion, while the awakened perceive emptiness within form—only this simultaneous awareness of being and non-being can comprehend the seamless mystery.

Finally, Laozi states this chapter also admonishes rulers to govern through Wuwei. All beings are originally soft and yielding by nature, but become hardened through chasing external objects. By turning inward to achieve luminous emptiness, one merges with the Dao. Thus we see the truly inconceivable benefits of serene non-action.

General Meaning of the Scripture

On governing the state and cultivating the self: Take as a guiding principle that Wuwei (non-action) benefits people. From this, we can infer that active instruction is less beneficial than Wuwei.

Heshang Gong: I see that the Dao (the Way) acts without action, and all things transform of themselves. Thus I know that Wuwei benefits people.

Rong: The Dao has no form, yet things are brought to completion through it; the sage acts without action, yet people are transformed. This is the benefit of Wuwei.

Cheng’s Commentary: The soft can overcome the hard, and nonbeing can dispel being. Thus we know that the teaching of Wuwei is greatly beneficial. Those who cultivate the Way should understand this principle.

Concluding Praise in Chapter Forty-Three: Wuwei Is a Rare Teaching

Scripture: The teaching that does not speak and the benefit of Wuwei—few under Heaven can attain to them.

Imperial Commentary: Among all the teachings under Heaven, few can match this one.

Imperial Subcommentary: The utmost Dao is without words, yet all things are born through it. The sage acts without action, and through transformation brings clarity to all under Heaven. Teaching does not depend on setting forth words. Few under Heaven can attain to the “teaching of Wuwei.” It is also said that only a ruler who embodies the Dao can attain to it; hence the term “rare.”

Heshang Gong: “The teaching that does not speak” means modeling oneself on the Dao, which does not speak, and serving as a teacher through one’s own conduct. “The benefit of Wuwei” means modeling oneself on the Dao’s Wuwei: cultivating the self nourishes the spirit, while governing the state benefits the people without burdening them. “Few under Heaven can attain to them”: “under Heaven” refers to rulers. Few can attain to the Dao’s Wuwei and govern through Wuwei. The principles of cultivating the self and governing the state are the same.

Yan: Sound that has a voice is heard for a hundred miles; sound without a voice moves beyond all bounds. What is spoken in words cannot communicate across different kinds of beings; what is spoken without words transforms Yin-Yang and moves Heaven and Earth. Moreover, De (Virtue/Power) and the Dao speak no words, yet Heaven and Earth are brought to completion. Heaven and Earth speak no words, yet the four seasons cycle onward.

Rong: Earlier, the text praised the benefit of Wuwei but had not yet explained what Wuwei means. “Practice the teaching that does not speak”: teaching means forgetting words. “Entrust matters to the natural course”: matters means having no affairs. When the ruler is at ease above and the ministers are content below, this is the benefit of Wuwei. “Few under Heaven can attain to them”: those who act with intention are many; those who attain to Wuwei are few.

Cheng’s Commentary: “Does not speak” does not mean keeping one’s mouth shut. In principle, “being is itself nonbeing”; in teaching, one both speaks and remains silent. Hence it is called the teaching that does not speak. In principle, “being is itself nonbeing”; hence it is called the benefit of Wuwei. Since this benefit is rare, few under Heaven can attain to it.

This passage explores the relationship between fame, wealth, and the authentic essence of life. Laozi poses three contrasting questions to provoke reflection: Which is more precious—reputation or life? Which is more important—life or wealth? Which is more harmful—gaining or losing?

The text begins by observing that all things under heaven eventually perish, as the transformations of Yin-Yang inevitably lead to death. Historical sages like Bo Yi and Shu Qi renounced royal titles to live as recluses on Mount Shouyang, Wu Zhong concealed his identity by the Ying River, the Duke of Zhou resigned from office, and Emperor Yao abdicated the throne—all choosing lives of simple detachment. Conversely, excessive pursuit of fame and fortune, as Yang Xiong warned, can bring calamity upon one's clan, while Confucius lamented how wealth and status harm the body. The scripture emphasizes: the deeper one's attachment, the greater the depletion; the more one accumulates, the heavier the loss—this is the sincere admonition left by sages.

Emperor Xuanzong's commentary notes that reputation is merely an appendage to reality, yet people sacrifice their lives for empty fame. Laozi's rhetorical questions urge us to relinquish worldly achievements and preserve life's fundamental truth. Heshang Gong adds that one should withdraw upon achieving success. Li Rong further explains: fame is external praise, wealth is mundane possession, while the body is the foundation for practicing loyalty, filial piety, and cultivating virtue (De). Practitioners of the Dao should transcend fame and fortune, nourish body and spirit (Shen), and return to the natural way of Wuwei (non-action). Those who lose their true nature chasing desires ultimately forfeit their authentic selves.

Through historical anecdotes and comparative arguments, this passage reveals how excessive pursuit of fame and wealth harms life, advocating an attitude of contentment and few desires in spiritual practice. The famous Daoist maxim "excessive love brings great waste, hoarding much leads to heavy loss" illustrates how insatiable greed ironically causes greater loss.

This scripture primarily addresses how people lose their innate nature in pursuit of fame and wealth, a concern deeply felt by Laozi.

Fame is inherently external to one’s being, yet people often sacrifice their true lives for empty reputation. Laozi poses a pointed question: Which should you truly cherish—fame or life? As Zhuangzi illustrates with the example of Bo Yi, who starved to death at Shouyang Mountain for the sake of reputation—was such a sacrifice worthwhile?

Regarding the relationship between wealth and life, the text observes that the chase for riches often leads to harm. Laozi challenges: What matters more—accumulating wealth or preserving life? Zhuangzi similarly recounts the story of the robber Zhi, who died at Dongling for profit—a clear case of greed destroying life.

Finally, the text examines which is more harmful: "gain" or "loss." Is it worse to obtain fame and wealth at the cost of life, or to relinquish them and safeguard life? Which truly reflects a sickness of the mind? Greedily amassing wealth inevitably damages oneself, while contentment with little preserves life. Thus, "gain" often signals the loss of one’s true self, whereas "loss" can embody the nourishment of life.

These reflections serve as a reminder not to be deluded by external fame and fortune, but to recognize the true value of life.

Plain-language interpretation

1. Gain, loss, and “illness”

On the effects of “preserving oneself”: losing one’s true nature and losing sight of oneself may be regarded as a kind of “illness.” Knowing how to preserve oneself without damaging one’s nature may be regarded as “medicine.” Yet people often reverse these things, treating gain as a calamity and loss as a grave illness. Is that not absurd? This is why Laozi asks: Between gain and loss, which is truly an “illness”?

2. Attachment to fame and profit harms wisdom and the body

Thus it is said: Excessive affection inevitably brings great expenditure; hoarding too much inevitably brings heavy loss.

Emperor Xuanzong’s commentary: Excessive love of fame must exhaust and injure the spirit—is that not “great expenditure”? Amassing too many possessions must burden body and mind—is that not “heavy loss”?

The Imperial Subcommentary: These two lines together answer the questions posed earlier. “Excessive affection inevitably brings great expenditure” addresses “Which is dearer, one’s reputation or one’s person?” Here, “dear” means “loved.” Those who excessively crave fame put on airs and act against their nature, exhausting their minds and spirits. The deeper their attachment, the greater the cost. “Hoarding too much inevitably brings heavy loss” addresses “Which matters more, one’s person or one’s possessions?” The more one hoards, the more devastating the loss when it comes. The fate of people harmed for wearing jade or carrying jade, and of scholars buried with pearls whose tombs were later plundered, both warn of the calamities that possessions can bring.

Heshang Gong’s commentary: “Excessive affection inevitably brings great expenditure”: excessive desire for women exhausts one’s vital energy; excessive love of wealth invites misfortune. One gains little from what one craves but loses much, hence “great expenditure.” “Hoarding too much inevitably brings heavy loss”: in life, one stores up much in treasuries; in death, one stores up much in tombs. While alive, one risks being robbed; after death, one risks having one’s coffin plundered.

Rongzi’s commentary: “Excessive affection inevitably brings great expenditure” means spending greatly for the sake of fame and one’s person. “Hoarding too much inevitably brings heavy loss” means harming oneself for wealth and suffering heavy loss.

Cheng’s subcommentary: In “Excessive affection inevitably brings great expenditure,” “expenditure” means depletion. Those who excessively crave a good reputation will greatly strain their bodies and trouble their minds, exhausting their spirits and impairing their wisdom. (This explains “reputation.”)

3. Hoarding too much inevitably brings heavy loss (continued)

The Imperial Subcommentary: If one stores large amounts of bribes and possessions in treasuries, one invites the danger of theft and robbery. One loses not only one’s possessions but may also suffer harm oneself; the resulting ruin can be profound. The Book of Documents says, “The commoner was guilty of no crime, yet the jade he carried brought him blame.” In the Zhuangzi, a great Confucian scholar is dismembered, and a saying tells how “green wheat grows on the slopes; in life he gave nothing away, so why should he have pearls in death?” People then used a gold hammer to prop open his chin and gently part his jaws, solely to take the pearl from his mouth. This is an example of inviting calamity by hoarding possessions. This line explains “possessions.”

4. Knowing when you have enough and relinquishing greed are the way to endure

(The heading states the theme: knowing when you have enough and letting go of greed allow one to preserve oneself in safety over the long term. This contrasts with “excessive affection” and “hoarding too much” above. If the relevant scriptural passage follows below, it should be understood in this same sense.)

Understanding contentment prevents disgrace; knowing when to stop avoids danger—this is how one can maintain lasting peace and stability.

Here, "knowing contentment" means not being excessively greedy, while "knowing when to stop" means not accumulating excessive wealth. Without disgrace or danger, one naturally endures. "Disgrace" refers to harm and burden, while "danger" signifies peril and ruin. Not pursuing empty fame is knowing contentment; not hoarding possessions is knowing when to stop. Those who are content align name and reality without undue burdens; those who know when to stop do not amass wealth and thus avoid the calamities of greed. Free from disgrace and danger, they endure.

Heshang Gong (commentator) explains: Those who know contentment distance themselves from profit and desire, sparing themselves disgrace. Knowing when to stop ensures possessions do not burden the body, and sensual pleasures do not disturb the senses—thus, they remain free from danger throughout life. Those who understand moderation naturally retain fortune and prosperity. Cultivators of the self do not exhaust their spirit (Shen), and rulers who govern do not trouble their people—hence, they endure.

Master Rong (commentator) states: Knowing contentment prevents disgrace, as avoiding undue fame keeps one from shame. Knowing when to stop averts danger, as renouncing excessive wealth steers clear of peril. Distancing oneself from fame, profit, and danger allows a state to govern with lasting stability and an individual to cultivate longevity.

Cheng Xuanying (commentator) elaborates: Knowing contentment and avoiding disgrace means recognizing the illusory nature of wealth, abiding by one's lot without greed, and embracing purity and sufficiency—thus, no disgrace arises. Knowing when to stop and avoiding danger means understanding the unreality of fame, stopping at the right point without fixation, preserving oneself and staying clear of harm. Earlier, the scripture states, "Once fame is established, one must know when to stop," admonishing restraint regarding fame and contentment regarding wealth—only by relinquishing both can one endure.

(The following explains) why Chapter 45, "Great Perfection Seems Incomplete," is placed here: the preceding chapter discusses the practice of knowing contentment and when to stop, yet this method remains incomplete. Thus, this chapter illustrates that true perfection lies in maintaining emptiness and stillness. The chapter divides into three parts: first, listing five forms of "greatness" as models for practice; second, using metaphors to show how agitation falls short of stillness; and finally, summarizing the function of stillness. The first section broadly explains how these five "greatnesses" serve as exemplars for cultivation.

Classic: Collected Commentaries on the Mysterious Virtue of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue

Scriptural text:

As vast as a mountain borne on the back of a giant turtle, it rises like the work of a master craftsman, whose molded vessel stretches across a realm as far as the great roc can fly. It embraces all within a single Qi, yet appears flawed; it gathers everything within seven layers, yet in use is like the open, harmonious void. Thus we know that the chaotic, vaporous state of the “image of the Emperor” can, when grasped, illuminate the void; the most refined and elusive can, within the heart, contain seas and worlds. Firmly following the mysterious path, one never reaches its end; the great pivot turns and turns, beyond anyone’s power to seize. When the breeze of purity fans outward, the ruler of the Nine and Five follows the calm, unhurried way of Wuwei (non-action). When all is open and spacious, the people find their proper place. This is the principle of the vessel that is fully formed.

Great completion seems flawed; its use does not wear out.

Imperial Commentary: When learning and virtue reach full completion, they often appear humble, as though blemished or incomplete. Humility allows one to receive benefits, so one’s usefulness does not deteriorate or run out.

Imperial Subcommentary: Those who study the Dao may bring their practice to full completion and perfect every virtue, yet they remain empty and unattached, as if flawed and lacking. In this way, their usefulness never runs out. A ruler whose Dao and virtue are fully complete is the same: equal to Heaven and Earth in the power to nurture life, and to the Sun and Moon in the virtue of shining upon all. The principle he has fulfilled is immense, and so is called “great completion.” Yet he does not rely on his achievement, but acts as if blemished or incomplete. Used in this way, it is inexhaustible.

Heshanggong says: “Great completion seems flawed” means that a ruler whose Dao and virtue are fully complete appears to have a flaw: he conceals his name and hides his reputation, as if damaged, and does not consider himself complete. With such an attitude, his intentions will never be exhausted.

Rong says: When the Dao is whole and virtue complete, this is called great completion. Yet it still seems insufficient, which is why the text says “seems flawed.” But a great abyss can be drawn from without being drained, and a bright mirror can reflect without growing tired. Its use does not wear out.

Commentary on the Commentary: A person who brings conduct and achievement to full completion can forget that completion. Thus, though fully accomplished, they seem lacking and incomplete. Because they forget their achievement, they can use it all day without wearing it down. Zhuangzi says, “Small accomplishments obscure the Dao.” What is complete is not truly flawed; what is flawed is not truly complete. Yet here, completion appears flawed because both flaw and completion are forgotten: completion is not seen as different from flaw, so it seems flawed while in fact being complete; flaw is not seen as different from completion, so great completion appears flawed. This refers to the gaze of the eyes: close them and look inward to bring the spirit to clarity. Like the Moon, which wanes and then becomes full again, it is therefore called “flawed.”

Great fullness seems empty; its use is inexhaustible.

Imperial Commentary: When rank and emolument are at their height, they should still seem empty. Frugality avoids waste and does not deplete wealth, so one’s…

Plain Language Commentary

Great Straightness Appears Bent

Imperial Commentary: Straight, yet not overreaching—that is why it appears bent.

Imperial Subcommentary: “Straight” means upright; “bent” means curved. The preceding four lines speak of both substance and function. The next three speak only of substance, leaving out function; although the wording is abbreviated, the meaning can be inferred by analogy. To cleanse oneself while blaming others for their faults, or to promote the upright while setting aside the crooked, is lesser straightness. Not clinging to one’s own view in order to judge what is wrong, and not correcting oneself while trying to reform others, is great straightness. Bending to suit circumstances is why it is said to “appear bent.” The phrase “straight, yet not overreaching” in the commentary is found in the scripture in the next chapter.

The Heshang Gong Commentary says: “Great straightness” means that the methods and standards for cultivating the Dao are upright and consistent, yet it appears bent: one does not contend with ordinary people, and seems able to bend. This refers to keeping the shoulders level and the body upright, while the primal unity flows through.

Rong says: Merging indistinguishably with the upright Dao is great straightness; following others out of desire makes one appear bent.

Subcommentary on the Cheng Commentary: “Bent” means curved. A person of great straightness and plainness does not display an outward appearance of straightness. Thus one can blend into the common world and adapt oneself to things; this is why it “appears bent.” From this we can understand that being upright in a merely literal sense is lesser straightness.

Great Skill Appears Clumsy

Imperial Commentary: Skill often goes wrong by exceeding its proper bounds, which is why it appears clumsy.

Imperial Subcommentary: Showing off the craft of painting and decoration, or flaunting mastery of the compass and carpenter’s square, is “lesser skill.” Great skill, by contrast, makes use of each thing according to its natural qualities…

Great Skill Seems Clumsy

To follow the nature of all things and bring their work to completion, without causing any of them to lose what is fitting to it—this is called “great skill.” On the surface, it seems to make no cuts or distinctions; its refinement is hard to see, so it appears plain and clumsy. Zhuangzi says, “Creation carves the myriad forms, yet does not consider itself skillful.”

The Heshang Gong commentary says that great skill means having many talents and techniques; seeming clumsy shows that one does not dare display one’s abilities. Cheng Xuanying’s commentary explains that a craftsperson’s ability to bring the myriad things to completion is great skill, though it seems unable to act, like clumsiness. Zhuangzi’s saying that creation “carves the many forms without considering itself skillful” shows that Craftsman Chui possessed only minor skill.

Great Eloquence Seems Hesitant

The Imperial Commentary says that one does not embellish one’s speech with clever words, so one seems slow of speech. Cheng Xuanying’s commentary says that arranging comparisons, decorating phrases, and tying together words are minor forms of eloquence. Teaching without words, discerning the myriad things, and plumbing principle and fully realizing one’s nature are great eloquence. The highest words dispense with verbal expression and make no effort to praise or blame, so they seem stammering and halting. The Heshang Gong commentary says that great eloquence is wisdom without doubt, while seeming hesitant means lacking the gift of verbal argument. Cheng Xuanying’s commentary says that one who subtly analyzes the true teaching and weighs the furthest mysteries speaks in a way that “cannot be spoken.” This differs from the quick, fluent speech prized in the world, and so seems halting. Zhuangzi speaks of “eloquence without words” and also says that great eloquence does not speak. This shows that the likes of Yang Zhu and Mozi possessed only minor eloquence.

The Second Pair of Analogies: Showing the Inferiority of Agitation and the Superiority of Stillness

Agitation Overcomes Cold; Stillness Overcomes Heat

The Imperial Commentary says that, in the sense that agitation can overcome, the relevant condition is cold—cold means thin and chilly. In the sense that stillness can overcome, it is heat—heat means mild and warm. Thus, what bends is great straightness, and what is clear and still is aligned with what is right. The passage “Agitation overcomes cold” means that when the body moves, its fluids circulate.

Cheng Xuanying’s commentary says that this uses analogy to teach. Clinging to completion leads to failure; holding on to fullness leads to collapse. Thus the sage benefits the world through their work yet appears to have achieved a great success that is incomplete, and so avoids harm. Though occupying a position of supreme rank, they regard that eminent position as empty, and so are not brought to an end. Fearing that people might not understand, the text uses the movement and stillness of Yang energy as an analogy: agitation means movement; overcoming means reaching an extreme. In spring and summer, Yang energy rises above the earth, and all things come to life through it. When Yang energy’s movement reaches its extreme, it turns to cold; with cold, all things decline and die. This shows that agitation is the root of death and flourishing the source of decline. The analogy teaches that those who complete their work without becoming self-satisfied can endure for a long time.

If the following text includes a phrase such as “Stillness overcomes heat,” its structure is the same: stillness at its extreme gives rise to heat, and heat allows all things to recover from decline. This shows that stillness is the root of life and that keeping to softness is the right way.

Classic: Collected Commentaries on the Mysterious De of the True Scripture of the Dao

Scriptural text:

What is held full without being allowed to spill over will surely collapse. Those who act recklessly with hard, impatient force will surely move toward death. The saying “stillness overcomes heat” means that in autumn and winter, Yang Qi lies still beneath the Yellow Springs. When stillness reaches its extreme, it turns into heat. When the heat harmonizes, Qi begins to arise, and all things come into being through it. Life depends on stillness as its ground; therefore, stillness is the root of life and the master of agitation. This may be likened to “great completion seeming incomplete” and “great fullness seeming empty”: because they can be incomplete and empty, they suffer no harm and are inexhaustible, thereby giving rise to life. Those who can practice Wuwei (non-action) and purity move toward life’s root. This counsels people to cultivate stillness and seek life, rather than rushing heedlessly toward death.

The Lord of the River says: “Agitation overcomes cold” means that it overcomes it to the utmost. In spring and summer, Yang Qi rises above and moves rapidly. When all things flourish to their utmost, they become cold; with cold comes decline and death. Therefore, people should not be hard and impatient. “Stillness overcomes heat”: in autumn and winter, all things lie still beneath the Yellow Springs. At the utmost, they become hot; heat is the source of life.

Rong says: The two Qi of Yin and Yang take turns in their effects. Yang Qi is agitated and hot; Yin Qi is still and cold. When Yang Qi flourishes, heat prevails and cold weakens; when Yin Qi flourishes, stillness prevails and agitation weakens. This is the shifting order of Qi, in which each in turn prevails or yields. “Great completion seeming incomplete” and “great fullness seeming empty” mean that there is no excess within flourishing: their effects are not worn out or exhausted. There is likewise no decline within decline. Neither flourishing nor declining, neither cold nor hot: completion is left behind without failure, and victory is forgotten, leaving no defeat.

The Sectional Commentary explains: “Stillness overcomes heat” means that through Wuwei, the spirit is kept undivided. The Commentary on the Commentary says: Agitation is Yang, stillness is Yin, and “overcoming” means reaching the utmost. As the seasons turn, when Yin reaches its extreme, Yang is born; when Yang reaches its extreme, Yin arises. When Yin arises, everything withers; when Yang is born, all things flourish. This illustrates that stillness is the root of long life, while agitation is the source of death and extinction. It urges students to abandon agitation and return to stillness. Another interpretation says: Descending from the root into its manifestations is “agitation overcomes cold”; letting go of the manifestations and returning to the root is “stillness overcomes heat.” This shows that movement and stillness must be used at the appropriate time.

Third conclusion: Explaining the function of stillness

Purity and stillness are the norm for the world

The Imperial Commentary says: This conclusion clarifies the meaning above. The sage observes the advance and retreat of Yang Qi and understands that agitation is the source of the pursuit of death, while stillness is the root from which life arises. In ordering human affairs and nurturing all living beings, the sage holds to the root and governs the branches, devoting himself to purity and stillness.

General statement: The Dao can serve as the righteous path and standard on which all under Heaven rely.

Heshang Gong says: If you can clear your mind and maintain stillness, you can long remain a model for all under Heaven. By cultivating yourself and upholding what is right, you will know neither exhaustion nor end.

Rong’s commentary says: One moved by Yin-Yang, cold and heat cannot yet be called “clear”; one who keeps revolving through life and death cannot yet be called “still.” A sage is unchanged by life and death within, and unburdened by cold and heat in the body. This is what it means to be clear and still. Where there is the turning of the cycle, life and death are shameful things; to end that turning and cut off the cycle of life and death is the righteous path for all under Heaven.

Cheng Xuanying’s subcommentary: Clarity, emptiness, and stillness benefit both oneself and others. By using what is right to overcome what is wrong, one can become a standard for all under Heaven. This concludes and explains the idea that “stillness overcomes restlessness.”

Sectional explanation: This refers to a person who has attained the Dao entering the deep mountains and preserving naturalness through clarity and stillness, thereby becoming a perfected person—a person who has attained the Dao.