《道德真經玄德纂疏》Vol. 13

Collected Commentaries on the Mysterious De of the True Scripture of the Dao and De, Volume Thirteen, Chapter 46, “When the World Has the Dao”: A Modern Chinese Interpretation

This chapter follows the previous one, which asked whether stillness or agitation prevails. It sets the age guided by the Dao against the age that has lost it. The chapter has four parts: first, it describes how a ruler who has the Dao governs through Wuwei and inner stillness; second, how a ruler without the Dao is restless and grasping; third, the depth of the calamities caused by such agitation and rivalry; and fourth, the benefits of knowing contentment, urging people to cultivate themselves.

First part: A ruler who has the Dao practices Wuwei and inner stillness

The Dao’s original nature is profound and mysterious, and the workings of spirit are unseen. Heaven and Earth are silent through the Dao, and sages of every age rest at ease through it. The wind does not stir the branches into song, so Emperor Yao was praised as “serene”; the rain does not break apart the soil, and Yu Shun thereby brought about peace. After the Zhou defeated the Shang, horses were sent back to Mount Hua to graze. After Tang defeated Jie, oxen were left to graze at leisure in the fields of Tao. The customs of the Five Emperors and Three Sovereigns were simple and their influence benevolent. This shows that an age has the Dao when returning troops and their horses come back to the fields—warhorses are put to work spreading manure—and that in an age without the Dao, warhorses race in conflict across the outskirts. The Great Sage passed down this teaching for good reason.

Commentary by Emperor Xuanzong of Tang: A ruler of a world that has the Dao governs the people through Wuwei and seeks no excessive gain. Therefore, there is no fighting and no need for the affairs of “sending the horses away and having people manure the fields.”

Subcommentary by Emperor Xuanzong of Tang: “Send away” means to dismiss; “manure” means to tend the fields. When the world has the Dao, the country is governed according to the Dao, and its influence is carried out through Wuwei. The ruler maintains peace among the surrounding peoples, and there is no trouble on the borders. There is no need to covet more territory and burden the people. Thus, there is no need for weapons or warhorses; the people can farm the southern fields at the proper season and fertilize the soil with manure.

Commentary by Heshang Gong: “When the world has the Dao” means that its ruler has the Dao. “Send the horses away to manure the fields”: “manure” means to fertilize the fields. Weapons and armor are not used; the warhorses are sent back to pull manure carts and help cultivate the land.

A Plain-Language Interpretation

(Continuing from the chapter “Turn back the warhorses to fertilize the fields”)

Rong says: When a ruler follows the right Way, he retires the warhorses sent racing into battle. When ministers uphold Wuwei (non-action), they devote themselves to farming. Those who cultivate the Dao set aside restless desires that gallop outward and use the Dao to nourish body and mind. Those who pursue learning cut off aimless drifting and idleness, and use knowledge to nourish the heart.

Cheng’s subcommentary says: A ruler who has the Dao governs the world by ending warfare and promoting culture. The world becomes tranquil and practices Wuwei, so the racing warhorses can be brought home to plow the fields and spread manure. The same applies to cultivating the body: draw back the “warhorses” of the six faculties—eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—and use the Dao to nourish the inner self. As Mencius said, everyone knows that manure can fertilize the fields, but does not know that learning can nourish the heart.

Second section: Explaining the restless competition and grasping of rulers without the Dao

Scripture: When the world lacks the Dao, warhorses are born in the borderlands.

Commentary of the Imperial Editor: A ruler without the Dao gives free rein to desire and attacks other states. As a result, warhorses multiply in the borderlands.

Subcommentary of the Imperial Editor: “Borderlands” refers to frontier and border-defense areas. A ruler without the Dao leaves the border exposed to foreign enemies who refuse to submit. Warhorses breed there, and the armies remain away for years, never returning from battle.

Heshang Gong says: “When the world lacks the Dao” means that the ruler lacks the Dao. “Warhorses are born in the borderlands” means that warfare does not cease: warhorses are born at the frontier and are not brought home for a long time.

Yan says: The people’s lives depend on the ruler, and the ruler’s position depends on the people. When the ruler has the Dao, the people flourish and the ancestral temples shine with honor. When the ruler lacks the Dao, the ancestral temples collapse and the people perish. This is the natural consequence.

Rong says: “Born” means brought into being. When people do not use the Dao, but instead embellish civil institutions while relying solely on military force, fortifications rise across the countryside and weapons are taken up on every side; warhorses are born in the borderlands. In terms of principle, when the mind is not inwardly clear and the ruler lacks the Dao, the horses of the six consciousnesses race through the myriad realms. Gain and loss become entangled, and right and wrong contend with one another.

Cheng’s subcommentary says: The area beyond a city is called its outskirts. When a ruler without the Dao governs the realm, indulges in hunting and sensual pleasures, and leaves the four quarters unsettled, he grasps after territory and delights in waging war. Thus military forces and warhorses arise beyond the city. In cultivating the body, the restless and competitive person does not hold the Dao in the heart. He lets the “warhorses” of the six faculties gallop unchecked through the sensory world. He does not turn inward to observe what is truly constant, but clings to external things. This is why the text says, “Warhorses are born in the borderlands.”

Key comparison

I. Warhorses Breed in the Borderlands

“Warhorses breed in the borderlands” speaks of horses. The Horse corresponds to the time of Wu, when the Qi of pure Yang is born. Thus, if the mind wishes to go east, it goes east; if west, it goes west; it may also go south or north. The mind has four gates and can perceive the four directions. This is its state when awake by day; at night, in sleep, it dreams.

When the Dao is in the mind and upright Qi circulates, the limbs and body are nourished, and the hair and skin become dark and glossy. Then the warhorses can be brought back and put to work drawing manure to fertilize the fields. When the Dao is absent from the mind, licentiousness arises, like warhorses running wild across the borderlands. Evil channels surge upward and damage the body. This is why it says, “Warhorses breed in the borderlands.”

II. The Third Section: The More the Mind Seeks and Competes, the Greater Its Transgressions

No Transgression Is Greater Than Seeing Something Desirable

The Imperial Commentary says: When the mind sees something desirable, transgression grows great.

The Imperial Subcommentary says: Breaking the law is transgression; covetous pursuit is desire. Transgressions such as warhorses breeding in the borderlands have their roots in a ruler’s coveting land: he sees the land as desirable, and desire stirs in his heart. Coveting land is the greatest of transgressions; hence the saying, “No transgression is greater than seeing something desirable.”

Heshang Gong says: It means delighting in beauty and sexual indulgence.

Rong says: “No transgression is greater than seeing something desirable; no calamity is greater than not knowing contentment; no fault is worse than the desire to acquire.” Those who follow the Dao leave emotion behind and relinquish desire, and transgressions and calamities disappear of themselves. Those without understanding give free rein to their nature and follow their hearts, and misfortune and blame follow. Good deeds accumulate into good fortune, bringing ease to both the hidden and visible realms; evil deeds accumulate into calamity, burdening both the living and the dead. Punishment confined to oneself is a transgression; when it reaches one’s descendants, it is a calamity; when it misleads one’s ancestors, it is a fault.

The Commentary on the Meaning says: Transgression is being pressed by suffering. “Something desirable” refers to an external object: when what lies before us is beautiful, it is called desirable, and the mind is moved by it. An object can press upon the mind and become the condition from which transgression arises. This serves as a warning to practitioners not to become attached to states of experience. Hence the saying, “Do not look upon what is desirable, and the mind will not be disturbed.”

No Calamity Is Greater Than Not Knowing Contentment

The Imperial Commentary says: When seeking and taking never cease, calamity grows great.

The Imperial Subcommentary says: Calamity means harm, and the spirits offer no protection. Where does the calamity of ruin and collapse come from? It comes from coveting land, seeking without satisfaction, and not knowing when to stop. As a result, the spirits do not protect the person, and harm follows. Human failings are many, but covetousness is the greatest source of calamity.

Heshang Gong says: It means being unable to restrain oneself despite wealth and rank.

General Explanation in Plain Language (for the Scripture passage, “When the world has the Dao, warhorses are sent back to haul manure; when the world lacks the Dao, warhorses breed in the borderlands,” and its commentaries)

When the world has the Dao, warhorses are unarmored and sent back to haul manure to fertilize the fields. When the world lacks the Dao, warhorses breed in the borderlands and charge wildly in every direction.

The commentators associate Wu with the Horse and use the mind as a metaphor for the ruler. When the Dao is in the mind, upright Qi fills it, and the body is healthy and at ease. Naturally, one can then “send warhorses back to haul manure”—that is, there is no need to fight by force. When the Dao is absent from the mind, licentiousness and evil channels proliferate. This is like warhorses running out of control in the borderlands, damaging the body and endangering life. This is the meaning of “Warhorses breed in the borderlands.”

The discussion then turns to transgression and calamity. The greatest transgression lies in seeing something desirable and coveting land; the greatest calamity lies in never being content and seeking without end. Letting external things move the mind is a great danger in cultivation. Hence Laozi says, “Do not look upon what is desirable, and the mind will not be disturbed.” Those who follow the Dao relinquish desire, and transgression and calamity dissolve of themselves. Those who give free rein to desire bring misfortune upon themselves, their descendants, and their ancestors.

A Vernacular Interpretation of Collected Commentaries on the Mysterious De of the True Scripture of the Dao and De

The Cheng Commentary (Cheng Xuanying’s explanatory commentary) says: The “calamity” mentioned in the Cheng Commentary refers to grave wrongdoing. The meaning is that someone who covets external things and is never satisfied, harming others and damaging their property, commits increasingly serious offenses day by day. The calamity does not fall only on that person; it also extends to three clans—the paternal clan, the maternal clan, and the wife’s clan.

No Calamity Is Greater Than Desiring to Get What One Wants

(No calamity is greater than coveting something and insisting on having it.)

The Imperial Commentary says: Among calamities, none is greater than desire. When one insists on obtaining everything one wants, calamity runs deep. That is why the text says this.

The Imperial Explanatory Commentary says: “Calamity” means misfortune. The desires of a covetous person grow ever greater: even after getting what they wanted, they are not content and seek more. If they pursue it by improper means, then even if they get it, they will soon bring calamity upon themselves. Is that not only to be expected?

• Desirable things: Wanting something one has not yet obtained is the first stirrings of greed; the offense is less serious than the resulting calamity.
• Not knowing contentment: Having already obtained something and still wanting more brings a calamity more serious than the offense.
• No calamity is greater than desiring to get what one wants: Even after obtaining something, one remains unsatisfied. This “calamity”—punishment or misfortune—is more serious than ordinary disaster.

Heshang Gong says: “Desiring to get what one wants” means coveting other people’s possessions and wealth.

The Cheng Commentary says: “Calamity” carries the sense of being called to account and punished. Desire to get what one wants has almost no bounds, and no punishment brought on by it is more severe. To compare their relative gravity: misfortune is more serious, while culpability is less serious. The text is phrased this way to lay bare human motives, and so it uses the word “greater” three times for emphasis.

Fourth: Showing the benefits of contentment and urging people to practice it

Therefore, contentment in knowing contentment is lasting contentment

The Imperial Commentary says: Whether external things are sufficient does not count as knowing contentment. Only contentment in the heart is true contentment. When the heart is content, that contentment can endure.

The Imperial Explanatory Commentary says: This sums up the meaning of “the ruler who has the Dao”: such a ruler does not seek vast domains or covet land, but is content within their proper bounds. The whole realm gladly supports them; their person is secure and the state is well governed. This contentment can even make people yield to one another, so that all remain content. The commentary’s words, “Having enough things is not knowing contentment; contentment of the heart is true contentment,” mean that sufficiency lies in the heart, not in possessions. Keep to your proper bounds and respect limits, and even a little will seem like much. Be greedy and insatiable, and even much will seem like little.

Heshang Gong says: “Contentment in knowing contentment” means holding fast to one’s true root, or original nature. “Lasting contentment” means a heart free of desire.

Rong, the commentator, says: Remove what is desirable, and one seeks nothing externally; keep one’s original nature clear and still, and one covets nothing internally. This is why it is called contentment. When every action accords with the Dao, there is no sense of lack; when there is no sense of lack, contentment endures.

The Cheng Commentary says: Keep to your proper bounds and travel without greed, and you will never be in want. That is why the text says “lasting contentment.” It also explains that those who compete out of greed will suffer calamity.

Note: This passage discusses lines from the Dao De Jing such as “No calamity is greater than not knowing contentment; no fault is greater than desiring to get what one wants,” and “Knowing contentment avoids disgrace; knowing when to stop avoids danger; thus one can endure.” It brings together interpretations by the Imperial Commentary, the Imperial Explanatory Commentary, Heshang Gong, Cheng Xuanying, and others. Its central point is that covetousness and insisting on getting what one wants bring calamity and punishment, while keeping the heart content allows contentment to endure.

A Plain-Language Interpretation of the True Scripture of the Dao and De: Collected Annotations on Profound De

On the preceding passage

A person who knows contentment can remain at peace even when calamity strikes. This is why it says that one may be poor at first and joyful later.

Chapter Forty-Seven: Without Leaving the Door

(This chapter continues the previous one, which discussed those who have the Dao and those who do not. Here the focus is on how a person of the Dao illuminates things without relying on the mind. The chapter has three parts: first, the sage illuminates through empty awareness, without relying on the mind; second, ordinary people rely on the mind and so cannot illuminate; third, it concludes that one who illuminates through emptiness is still and yet able to act.)

First: The sage illuminates through empty awareness, without relying on the mind

The great sage does not set out to become a perfected person. Without a calculating mind, the sage gives rise to the two forms, clear and turbid—yet what thing has ever been there? The sage sets the two Qi (vital energy) of mountains and rivers in motion, but no divine power is seen; passes among many people without speaking, and sits with an empty mind, content within. Thus, without leaving the door, the sage knows all under Heaven. How could this be like King Mu of Zhou, who went to welcome the immortals and staged an empty display of archery at the Jade Pool; or the First Emperor of Qin, who watched the sun and falsely claimed the power to whip stones into motion? Though their footprints crossed the farthest wilderness, their efforts to command the world only wore out the Eight Steeds. They looked far and wide through windows and doors, yet their sight and hearing grew more confused. Our great sage sees without going out.

Without leaving the door, know all under Heaven.

Imperial Commentary: Without leaving the door, one knows all under Heaven; without looking through the window, one sees the Dao of Heaven. The ruler governs through Wuwei (non-action), with no commands issued beyond the palace gate, and thereby understands the principles of governing the realm. When human affairs are harmonious, the signs in Heaven fall into order. Thus there is no need to look through the window to understand Heaven’s Dao.

Imperial Subcommentary: A sage ruler who possesses the Dao governs through Wuwei. The ruler’s teachings do not go beyond the palace gate, yet a simple and honest way of life naturally spreads throughout the realm. This may be called understanding the principles of governing the realm. Another explanation is that when a ruler teaches well, the people throughout the realm respond with goodness. Then there is no need to leave the door to know what is happening under Heaven. Thus the Book of Changes says: “When a noble person speaks well, people a thousand li away respond; how much more so those nearby!” This is what the passage means.

Heshang Gong says: The sage knows all under Heaven without leaving the door: the sage understands other people through understanding the self, and other households through understanding one’s own household. In this way, the sage sees all under Heaven.

Rong says: Viewed through the Dao, principle knows no distance.

On illuminating wisdom and “knowing without going out”

Without using penetrating wisdom to observe things, one can still understand them clearly. This is what is called knowing without going out: one need not rely on external action or contrivance, because the mind can already see within.

The Cheng commentary explains that “doors” symbolize the various openings through which awareness reaches outward and makes distinctions. A person of the Dao keeps the mind empty and still, without rushing after worldly circumstances, yet knows what is happening throughout the world. This is using true illumination to see the ordinary world.

Seeing the Dao of Heaven without peering through a window

The Yu commentary says that Heaven and humanity respond to one another, and that their vital essences and energies interact. When a ruler governs through De, the stars and celestial bodies remain in proper order. If the ruler shows contempt for the Five Phases and disrupts the balance of Yin-Yang, calamities follow. Thus, the classics say that auspicious signs bring reverence and timely rain, while ominous signs bring obscurity, unrelenting winds, and unusual changes. Our conduct begins within us, while celestial signs appear outside; why, then, would we need to peer through a window to know? The Classic of Changes says: “Through their words and actions, the noble person moves Heaven and Earth.”

Heshang Gong says that the Dao of Heaven and the human way are connected, with vital essence and energy running through both. When a ruler is pure and still, the weather naturally becomes orderly; when the ruler has many desires, the weather becomes troubled and foul. Good and bad fortune, benefit and harm, all arise from one’s own mind.

Rong says: The two luminaries shine in the sky, and the Five Planets gleam across the Milky Way. Why peer through a window to see what is already clear within? “Peering through a window” means probing and forcing one’s way toward an explanation; the “Dao of Heaven” is the natural order. One can catch the fish or hare without relying on the fish trap or snare—that is, reach the underlying truth without depending on tools or methods. One can awaken to the highest principle without laboring over verbal instruction. This is seeing the Dao of Heaven without peering through a window.

The Cheng commentary says that “peering” means looking in, and a “window” is an opening in the wall. The Dao of Heaven is the natural order. Through sitting in forgetfulness—guarding the One, forgetting the body, and becoming mysteriously united with the Dao—one need not look through an aperture: the true mind shines inwardly, and one sees the natural Dao. This is using wisdom to illuminate the Real. “Doors” symbolize movement in and out, obstruction and passage, and so represent seeing the ordinary world through true illumination. The inner light of a window symbolizes turning one’s gaze back to the source of truth.

Section Two: How ordinary people’s minds prevent them from seeing clearly

The farther one goes, the less one knows

The Imperial Commentary says: If one cannot practice Wuwei yet issues commands deliberately, then the farther those commands reach, the less one understands the way to govern the world.

The Imperial Subcommentary explains that this describes a ruler who has lost the Dao. Unable to remain in Wuwei and govern with self-restraint, the ruler tries to reform people by extending teachings and commands. The farther those commands reach, the more the ruler departs from Wuwei, and the less the ruler understands the principles of government.

Heshang Gong says this means leaving one’s own home to observe someone else’s, or leaving oneself to observe another person: the farther away one looks, the less one knows.

Rong says: One may travel throughout the universe without recognizing its mountains and rivers; one may read every classic without understanding the highest principle.

Note

This passage brings together interpretations by commentators across the ages—including the Imperial Commentary and Subcommentary, Heshang Gong, Rong, and the Cheng commentary—of lines from the Dao De Jing: “Know the world without going out,” “see the Dao of Heaven without peering through a window,” and “the farther one goes, the less one knows.” Its central themes are inward illumination, Wuwei, and moving Heaven through De, in contrast with chasing after things externally and forcing one’s way toward explanations.

This passage elucidates the principle of "knowledge through wuwei (non-action)." Those with deluded minds cannot perceive the true nature of things. Their thoughts constantly chase external phenomena, drifting farther away yet never finding fulfillment. Their understanding remains shallow and narrow, obscured by darkness and lacking true insight.

Those who have truly attained the Dao (the Way) reach threefold spiritual states: emptiness-quietude, profound stillness, and luminous clarity. Though abiding in stillness, they naturally resonate with all things. Thus, sages comprehend all without personal experience. Just as one need not step outside to understand worldly affairs, maintaining a state of wuwei (non-action) and pristine simplicity allows spontaneous apprehension of the Dao's principles. This resembles a mirror suspended high—all things reflect within it naturally, while the mirror itself remains free from any intention to reflect.

Sages perceive the essence of things without visual confirmation. Like how a crane's cry naturally evokes echoes, subtle signs reveal greater transformations; examining oneself leads to understanding all phenomena. The transformative power of an enlightened society lies in the resonance of human hearts—why must one see to comprehend? This embodies the principle of "knowing without seeing."

Sages accomplish all without deliberate striving. Without preaching through words, the world becomes naturally transformed. This represents the state of "achievement through wuwei (non-action)." Such a realm functions like a clear mirror reflecting objects—manifesting all yet clinging to none, offering teachings yet acting without intention.

[Carrying over from the previous chapter]

This sums up the meaning of the chapter on “not going out the door or looking through the window”: when those in higher positions take action, those below are inevitably disturbed. Now the sage sits upright, gathering the spirit and remaining silently profound in the ancestral hall. The ruler practices Wuwei (non-action), the people have nothing to trouble them, every household is prosperous, and the myriad transformations come about of themselves.

The Heshang Gong commentary says: When those above take no action, those below have nothing to trouble them. People have enough to live on, and all things are naturally nurtured and brought to completion.

Rong says: This means that things come to completion naturally.

The Cheng commentary explains: “Not acting” means gathering the spirit in stillness and detachment, transcending all deliberate action. “And come to completion” means being able to transform and nurture the many kinds of beings and bring students to fulfillment. This explains how stillness can also be active.

Learning Increases Day by Day (Chapter 48, also called “The Chapter on Learning”)

Continuing from the previous chapter: that chapter clarified the difference between the minds of ordinary people and sages, and between perception shaped by external conditions and perception that illuminates from within. This chapter therefore explains how the learning of Dao practitioners and ordinary people differs in what it gains and loses. Its meaning falls into three parts:

First, it shows how the learning of Dao practitioners and ordinary people differs in gain and loss.

Second, it distinguishes the successive stages of delusion that lead toward the ultimate mystery.

Third, it shows the differing gains and losses of action and inaction.

First part: How the learning of Dao practitioners and ordinary people differs in gain and loss

The principle of the rarefied and subtle is still; the meaning of primordial chaos is profound. It unlocks a wondrous key that is hard to fathom and opens a mysterious gate that is hard to enter. Its meaning is broad, its direction subtle: majestic like what came before the Image Emperor, and serene like a being of the Great Luo realm. Heavenly scriptures shine with the radiance of eight hanging points; the Jade Palace flourishes, gathering the signs of the One Vehicle. How could this be the ordinary person’s learning that “increases day by day,” or the extravagant and frivolous cultivation of Zhang Zhi, whose ink pool never left the confines of the gate? Yang Xiong’s library likewise remained entangled in the ford of life and death. Unable to diminish deliberate action day by day, they only increase it all the more.

Learning increases day by day; practicing the Dao diminishes day by day.

The Imperial Commentary says: Those who pursue learning increase their knowledge and experience day by day; those who pursue the Dao diminish their efforts and practices day by day. Increasing one’s knowledge and experience is a gradual step in cultivation; diminishing one’s efforts is the path to awakening to the Dao. Thus, one accumulates merit through increase, then forgets merit and embodies the Dao.

The Imperial Commentary’s Subcommentary says: “Pursue” means to cultivate; “diminish” means to forget and set aside. At the beginning, those who cultivate learning seek knowledge and experience day by day, taking this as an increase. When they proceed from this increase to the Dao, they forget and leave behind their efforts, taking this as a diminishment. Why is this so? Those who pursue learning invariably begin by relying on study to understand the Dao and by cultivating merit to make up for their faults. In the end, they awaken to the principle, forget words, leave merit behind, and embody the Dao.

Plain-Language Interpretation

Opening Notes

The commentary on “letting go of attachment” says: reducing what one sees and hears is a gradual process of cultivation; reducing one’s practice and effort is the entry point to realizing the Dao (the Way). This describes the initial stage.

Heshang Gong, the renowned Han dynasty commentator on the Daode Jing, says:

“In pursuing learning, one increases day by day” refers to learning about government, ritual, and music. “Increasing day by day” means that desires and ornamentation grow more abundant each day.

“In pursuing the Dao, one decreases day by day”: The Dao here means the natural Way. “Decreasing day by day” means that desires and ornamentation diminish each day.

Yan Zun, a Daoist of the Jin dynasty, says:

Let go of clever knowledge: knowledge rooted in not-knowing is the foundation of knowing. Teaching without instruction is the aim of teaching. This is what the divine spirit relies upon, and it is the teacher of Heaven and Earth.

Master Rong says:

“In pursuing learning, one increases day by day”: one accumulates books, broadens one’s knowledge, seeks fame, and adds to one’s cravings and desires.

“In pursuing the Dao, one decreases day by day”: one puts into practice teaching without words, forgets both pattern and principle, realizes the empty and mysterious Dao, and lets go of both self and things. When one reaches Wuwei (non-action), all manner of deliberate action falls away; when one is free of affairs, countless matters are reduced. Is it merely a matter of pride, excess, and extravagance?

The commentary in the Chengshu says:

“In pursuing learning, one increases day by day”: “Pursuing” means engaging in cultivation and refinement; what one studies is worldly learning. Those who pursue worldly knowledge are intent on making distinctions through feelings and perceptions, so their desires increase day by day.

“In pursuing the Dao, one decreases day by day”: “Pursuing” means cultivating the Dao. Those who cultivate the Dao are open, tranquil, and detached; their wisdom and De (Virtue/Power) gradually become clear, while the burdens of delusion diminish day by day.

Second: Distinguishing the Sequence of Illusions in Order to Reach the Mysterious Ultimate

“Decrease, and decrease again, until you reach non-action.”

The imperial commentary of Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang says:

“Decrease, and decrease again, until you reach non-action. Through non-action, nothing is left undone.” Those who pursue learning accumulate merit and practice; those who pursue the Dao let go of these. Yet even after letting go of merit and practice, the desire to let go remains. Forget this desire as well, and one reaches tranquil non-action. Like a mirror reflecting images, one responds to everything; thus nothing is left undone.

The imperial subcommentary says:

The first “decrease” means reducing the practices of those who pursue the Dao. “Decrease again” means letting go of the intention to forget those practices. In this way, first one forgets the traces of practice, then one lets go of the mind that forgets. When both mind and traces are forgotten, one can reach the ultimate; reaching the ultimate leads to non-action.

Heshang Gong says:

“Decrease, and decrease again”: reduce desires, then reduce thoughts as well, gradually removing them. “Until you reach non-action” means remaining calm and natural like an infant, without contrivance.

Master Rong says:

Leaving being and returning to nonbeing is one kind of decrease; letting go of being and then forgetting nonbeing is another. Principle merges with true stillness.

Summary of the central meaning:

This passage explains the fundamental difference between pursuing learning and pursuing the Dao:

The ultimate aim is to decrease, and decrease again, until even the thought of wanting to let go is forgotten, reaching the state of Wuwei (non-action)—like a mirror that does nothing on its own yet reflects all things, leaving nothing undone.

A Commentary on the Subtle Virtue of the True Classic of the Dao and Its De

On “Attaining Wuwei”

Cheng’s Commentary: Those who pursue learning cling to “action and desire,” while those who cultivate the Dao become stuck in “non-action.” Though these attachments differ in depth, both are mistaken. The scripture therefore speaks of “further reduction” to remedy these two extremes: first, let go of attachment to “being,” then let go of attachment to “non-being.” Only by releasing both can one return to the One—true Wuwei (non-action).

“Wuwei, Yet Nothing Is Left Undone”

The Emperor’s Commentary: When De (Virtue/Power) is perfected and united with the Dao (the Way), nothing is beyond its reach or action.

The Emperor’s Subcommentary: Action creates obstacles, and obstacles make some things impossible. But now, through Wuwei, there are no obstacles; therefore nothing is left undone. This is to accord with the Dao and to act throughout the whole realm. The previous scroll also says, “The Dao always practices Wuwei, yet nothing is left undone.”

Rong’s Commentary: One turns toward Wuwei in the hope of casting off burdens. But some people hear “Wuwei” and sit inert, taking dead ashes for the Great Dao and clods of earth for the true heart. Fearing that they might cling rigidly to Wuwei and be unable to respond freely, the text adds, “Wuwei, yet nothing is left undone.”

“Wuwei, yet nothing is left undone” does not mean another kind of deliberate action. Nor does “acting in order to return to Wuwei” mean remaining caught up in action. In this way, learning, cultivating the Dao, and studying the Dao can all be released; movement and stillness, stillness and movement, can both come to rest.

Cheng’s Commentary: To reach utter stillness and yet be able to act is to have essence and function as one; therefore nothing is left undone. The previous scroll says, “The Dao always practices Wuwei, yet nothing is left undone.”

Acting and Not Acting: Different Gains and Losses

Scripture: “To take the world, one must always act without interference.”

The Emperor’s Commentary: Through Wuwei and freedom from interference, the people of the world give their hearts to the ruler. Thus the world can be taken and governed.

The Emperor’s Subcommentary: This advises rulers to practice Wuwei. “Take” means to gather in and nurture the world. To nurture the world, one must practice Wuwei and refrain from interference. When there is no interference, the people below are not disturbed; when there is Wuwei, the people are at ease of their own accord. If one governs the world in this way, what cannot be done? The word “always” means that in governing things, one must never depart from freedom from interference and Wuwei.

The Old Master by the River: “Take” means “govern.” In governing the world, one should always make freedom from interference the foundation and avoid troubling or disturbing the people.

Rong’s Commentary: “To take the world, one must always act without interference; when one acts with interference, one is not fit to take the world.” “Take” and “gather in” both mean to draw things together and govern them. One who can forget has nothing that cannot be relinquished; one who can put things to use knows what can and cannot be done. If one gathers in the world through Wuwei, then “non-being” is sufficient; if one clings to interference, one is not fit to take the world.

“Not everything can be done. If one tries to take the world through deliberate action, one gains nothing: what seems possible is, in fact, all impossible.”

The Commentary of Cheng Xuanying says: “Taking” means gathering people in and transforming them through teaching. To lead all the people of the world toward the good, one should influence them through doing nothing and taking no action. Though one responds to things and acts outwardly, inwardly one remains unattached to affairs. This is the state of “active yet still.” Thus Zhuangzi asks: “Must one earnestly and single-mindedly make things one’s concern?”

“When one is caught up in affairs, one is not fit to take the world.”

Once the mind becomes attached and entangled in “affairs,” one is no longer fit to govern the world.

The Commentary of Emperor Xuanzong says: “Affairs bring toil, and toil brings decline; therefore one is not fit to take the world.”

The Commentary on Emperor Xuanzong’s Note says: “‘Affairs’ refers to burdensome government orders and strict prohibitions. Harsh laws leave the people unsettled, and numerous punishments scatter their hearts. Would it not be difficult to win the world’s willing allegiance? Thus, one caught up in affairs is not fit to take the world.”

Heshanggong says: “If a ruler delights in schemes and stirs up many affairs that disturb the people, government and instruction become chaotic, and the people cannot live in peace. Such a ruler is therefore unfit to govern the world. ‘Taking’ means ‘governing.’”

The Commentary of Rong says: “In forgetting, there is nothing to choose or reject; in acting, there are things one can do and things one cannot. If one transforms the world through non-action, nothing is impossible. If one tries to take the world through deliberate action, nothing can be attained: what seems possible is, in fact, impossible.”

The Commentary of Cheng Xuanying says: “If the mind cannot become empty and let go, but instead treats affairs as things to be pursued, attachment arises. This is the opposite of ‘having no affairs’: the stillness of having no affairs and the movement of being caught up in affairs are at odds. Such a person is unfit to gather in and transform the world.”

Chapter Title: The Sage Has No Constant Mind (Chapter 49)

Continuing the previous chapter’s teaching, “Amid affairs, be free of affairs; though responding, keep the mind unstirred,” this chapter shows how the Sage, with no fixed mind, can respond to whatever calls forth a response.

The chapter unfolds in three parts. First, it explains that the Sage has no constant mind and responds whenever moved. Second, it shows how the Sage skillfully saves all living beings and abandons none. Third, it reveals that living beings are immersed in entanglements, and so the Sage’s compassion arises.

First Part: The Sage Has No Constant Mind and Responds Whenever Moved

The Most High Lord Lao establishes his teachings in keeping with the times; the Perfected Lords govern things and bring peace to the people. The people sing with full bellies, feeling no gratitude for the power of emperors and kings—

A Compilation of Commentaries on the Mysterious Virtue of the True Scripture of the Dao and De

General Meaning of the Scripture

(The ancients sang freely with their robes open, yet how could they know the depth of Heaven and Earth’s creation and transformation? When the Ten Disorderly Ministers worked together, one could see the flourishing of the Zhou dynasty’s instruction; when the Eight Eminent Ones served together, one could appreciate the pure customs of the age of Yao. Thus it is said: the sage has no fixed mind. His ministers devote themselves to governance. Though disorder may arise and the times change, the realm does not fall; over time, things shift of their own accord. He entrusts all things to the aid of mysterious achievement, opening his sincere heart to the world. Seeking to transform the people, he shares their hearts. How could this be called “anxious and apprehensive”? )

The sage has no fixed mind; he takes the people’s minds as his own.

Imperial Commentary

The sage’s mind responds as things move it, and is present in response to each encounter; therefore, it has no constant form. Though his mind has no constant form, it remains constant in guiding things toward goodness: he takes the transformation of the people’s minds as his own mind.

Imperial Subcommentary

The sage is empty and free of attachment. When things move him, he responds; his response necessarily follows what has moved him. Since what moves him is never the same, his responses have no fixed form. Though his mind has no fixed form, its purpose is compassionate aid. Because the people may have minds that are distrustful or unkind, he mingles with them in mind and guides them through transformation. This is why the text says, “has no constant mind.”

Heshanggong’s Commentary

“The sage has no constant mind”: The sage values reform and renewal, and esteems following what is already in place. It is as though he had no mind of his own: he follows what the people find suitable and convenient.

Yan Zun’s Commentary

The mind that has no mind is the mind’s true master. In a person’s body, removing the mind brings danger and restores peace; exercising the mind brings security and causes it to vanish. If those above embody the transformation of the Dao and De, and those below embrace the minds of the people, then they regard all things, great or small, as they regard their own bodies. They set aside their personal desires and take what brings ease to others, joining with them in the greatest unity.

Rong Yi’s Commentary

A ruler has no intention to impose deliberate action, but lets the people transform themselves. The sage has no feelings of preference or distinction; he follows the myriad things and responds to them in communion.

Cheng Xuanying’s Subcommentary

He embodies the Dao, composed and serene, with an open mind free of anxious thoughts. His mind shares the stillness and calm of the vast emptiness; therefore, he has no mind. “The people” means all living beings. The sage has no fixed mind: when moved, he responds, and his response follows the movement of things. Thus he takes the people’s minds as his own. Since he responds without a fixed mind, he does not cling even to the act of responding.

Second: Skillfully Saving the People Without Abandoning Anyone

I treat the good with goodness, and I treat the unkind with goodness too—this is the goodness of De. I treat the trustworthy with trust, and I treat the untrustworthy with trust too—this is the trust of De. The aim is for the good and trustworthy to become good and trustworthy through me, and for the untrustworthy, too, to be transformed through goodness and trust.

Note: This section draws on Chapter 49 of the Dao De Jing, including the lines “The sage has no constant mind; he takes the people’s minds as his own” and “I treat the good with goodness, and I treat the unkind with goodness too.” It brings together commentaries by the emperor, Heshanggong, Yan Zun, Rong Yi, Cheng Xuanying, and others. The commentaries discuss the sage’s lack of a fixed mind, his responses to things as they move him, his taking the people’s minds as his own, and the Virtue of goodness and trust that saves all without abandoning anyone.

Modern Interpretation

Overview

The sage teaches in this way so that the people may experience his Virtue of goodness and Virtue of trustworthiness. The Commentary on the Imperial Commentary says this passage describes “response and resonance”: when the people have an inclination toward goodness, the sage encourages them to cultivate themselves, so that their conduct accords with the Dao and reaches the great goodness described in “I am good.”

The Lord of the River says: When the people act well, the sage responds by treating them well.

Yan says: “‘Those who are good, I treat as good; those who are not good, I also treat as good’: this is Virtue in goodness. ‘Those who are trustworthy, I trust; those who are not trustworthy, I also trust’: this is Virtue in trustworthiness.”

“Trust” means honesty. The people are moved by his Virtue and change their ways.

Rong says: “‘Those who are good, I treat as good; those who are not good, I also treat as good’ is called ‘attaining goodness.’ If distinctions remain in the mind, it divides people into good and not good. Once goodness and its opposite are divided in this way, it cannot be called true goodness. The sage makes no distinctions in his mind: he treats good people well, and treats those who are not good well too. He is also good toward those who are not good. This is what ‘attaining goodness’ means.”

The Commentary on the Meaning says: “‘Those who are good, I treat as good; those who are not good, I also treat as good’: the good are people who cultivate themselves without desire; the not good are ordinary people who act with intention and become attached to circumstances. The sage teaches everyone through an impartial, superior goodness, so that all may attain goodness. This is what it means to ‘make the people’s minds one’s own.’”

Those who are not good, I also treat as good: Virtue in goodness

Imperial Commentary: “Those who are not good” refers to people tainted by habitual tendencies, misled by false teachings, and turned away from the right path. The sage still guides them by the right path. “Virtue in goodness” means transforming them, leading them into the sage’s Virtue and turning them toward good conduct.

The Lord of the River says: Even if some among the people are not good, the sage should still teach and transform them, so that they turn toward goodness.

Those who are trustworthy, I trust

Imperial Commentary: “Trustworthy” refers to those who diligently practice after hearing the Dao and whose minds are free of rigid attachments. The sage responds to them with sincerity, helps their goodness come to fruition, and leads them to deep trust.

The Lord of the River says: When the people are trustworthy, the sage responds by treating them as trustworthy.

Rong says: “‘Those who are trustworthy, I trust; those who are not trustworthy, I also trust’ is called ‘attaining trust.’ Things have what can and cannot be followed, what accords and does not accord; one cannot go along with everything indiscriminately. The sage has neither what can nor cannot be accepted, neither what accords nor what does not accord. He can respond to all things, and so is called greatly responsive.

The Commentary on the Meaning says: “‘Those who are trustworthy, I trust; those who are not trustworthy, I also trust’: ‘the trustworthy’ refers to people who have heard the Dao. The sage transforms them through Virtue in trustworthiness, leading both the trusting and the untrusting to the state of trust.

A Plain-Language Interpretation

On “Those who delight in it but do not believe” in the scripture

“Those who delight in it but do not believe” refers to people who take no joy in believing in the Dao and lack faith in the Way. The sages save and guide all beings with open-mindedness, compassion, and impartiality. Whether people believe or not, the sages find ways to benefit them and to kindle their faith.

Lady Ziwei once said: Faith is the key to gain and loss. The scripture also says: Faith is the pivot of learning the Way. Someone asked: “The sage has no fixed mind, but responds whenever there is a stimulus. If there is no response, there was no stimulus; if there was no stimulus, there can be no response. If faith is a prerequisite for teachings tailored to a person, then those who do not believe should not be taught. But if believers and nonbelievers are taught alike, does that mean the sage responds equally to those who do and do not offer a stimulus?” The answer: Response has both universal and particular forms. For example, governing at the Jade Capital of the Mysterious Metropolis while constantly saving the Three Realms is a universal response; people of good faith belong to this category. Another example is the response to the people of Hu, when the purple qi drifted westward and the Dao De Jing was given to Yin Xi. This is a particular response: it requires a particular stimulus, while universal response is the ordinary, constant illumination of compassion. Hence the previous chapter says: “The one who is always good at saving people abandons no one.”

Third: Showing how beings become entangled in desire and defilement, and how the sage’s compassion arises: “Those who do not believe, I too trust; this is trust in De.”

Commentary by the Imperial Annotator: “Those who do not believe” refers to stubborn people who reject the teachings. The sage still guides them with impartial, true faith, leading them to embody the sage’s De, let go of doubt, and return to faith. Hence the phrase “trust in De.”

Heshang Gong: When the people do not believe, the sage transforms and guides them until they believe.

“The sage, dwelling among the people, is anxious and attentive; in working for the people, he mingles his mind with theirs.”

Commentary by the Imperial Annotator: When the sage holds office and governs the world, he guides the people with constant anxious attentiveness, bringing them to virtue, goodness, and trustworthiness. The sage’s own mind is still and silent, while the illumination of his De is complete and bright; this is one with the mind he applies in governing. Every effort of his mind is for the people. Hence the words: “In working for the people, he mingles his mind with theirs.”

Subcommentary by the Imperial Annotator (explaining how the sage mingles with the world in applying his mind): Anxious attentiveness means diligent concern. As the sage gives the world a place to dwell in peace and governs the whole realm, he is diligently concerned that beings have not yet returned to goodness and faith. The sage is originally without a mind of his own; how could he have worry or joy? The text speaks of his anxious attentiveness because the people still do not trust in goodness. The sage mingles with things and applies his mind for the people. Hence the words: “In working for the people, he mingles his mind with theirs.”

Heshang Gong: When the sage is among the people, he is wary and watchful, fearing that wealth and rank may lead him to arrogance and extravagance. This is the meaning of “In working for the people, he mingles his mind with theirs.”

When governing the world, the sage would have the people’s minds remain muddled and simple, as though dull, dim, and unable to understand worldly affairs.

Yan Junping says: “Diligent and cautious, yet broad and open” means embracing all directions under Heaven with an empty mind.

Rongzi says: “Diligent and cautious” means not lingering or clinging. Ordinary people make distinctions through their feelings: they see what is good and what is not, and decide what to trust and what not to trust. The sage does not linger over distinctions, but responds freely as circumstances arise, blending away the mind that divides things and bringing judgments of right and wrong into harmony.

In his commentary, Cheng Xuanying explains: “Diligent and cautious” describes a state of vigilance and care. The sage, who responds to things without a fixed mind and engages with the world, continually extends great compassion throughout the world and saves the people, fearing they may sink into delusion. Thus the sage is vigilant and diligent. To muddle the people’s minds is to make them indistinct and free of divisions. Ordinary people are confused by their feelings and held fast by their surroundings, recklessly choosing and rejecting. The sage seeks to make their minds muddled and free of distinctions. This is the meaning of vigilance and care.

The people all direct their ears and eyes toward the sage.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang comments: The people are transformed by the sage’s Virtue and turn toward goodness. They look up to his unadulterated influence and observe his example, so they direct their ears and eyes toward him to listen, watch, and learn from him.

Heshang Gong says: “Direct” means “use.” The people all use their ears and eyes to see and hear as the sage does.

Rongzi says: The people cannot use their nature to restrain their feelings. Instead, they indulge their minds and pursue desires, directing their ears and eyes toward sounds and sights, and concentrating their noses and mouths on fragrances and flavors. They are thereby clouded and confused, even to the point of deafness and blindness. The sage treats each person’s ailment with the appropriate remedy and teaches in response to each circumstance; he rescues beings according to their minds and transforms people through his own words. Hence he says that he is like an infant, an innocent child who does not know that sounds and sights delight the ears and eyes.

In his commentary, Cheng Xuanying explains: This means being corrupted by sensual stimulation and becoming attached to it. People who are turned upside down are submerged in worldly circumstances. They indulge their ears and eyes and become attached to sights and sounds; they drift on in the long current, with no day in sight when they will return. The sage pities them for being so deeply lost, and therefore reveals the nature of their affliction. Among the six sense faculties, he singles out the ears and eyes to show that these two cause the deepest harm. Thus the Scripture of the Western Ascension says: “Sounds and sights of the ears and eyes keep the child in error.” Yet by naming these two faculties, it also encompasses all the others; they are mentioned because the text is concise.

The sage regards all the people as infants.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang comments: The sage cares for the people as a loving mother does. Therefore, he regards all the people as infants.

This scripture discusses the sage's attitude toward the common people. The sage regards the people with the same tender care as a loving mother shows toward her infant. The text states that people originally harbor various forms of discriminative thinking (referring to calculating minds that distinguish between high and low, noble and base), but the sage guides them toward goodness through teaching, returning them to a state of pristine innocence like that of an infant.

Heshang Gong (a renowned Han dynasty commentator on Daoist scriptures) explains: The sage cherishes the people as one would care for tiny insects or newborn infants, nurturing their growth yet never demanding anything in return.

The Tang dynasty Daoist Cheng Xuanying further elaborates in his commentary: Sentient beings drown in sensory desires, sinking helplessly in the sea of emotional attachments. With compassionate hearts, sages diligently work to save them, showing the same tender concern one would have for ignorant infants. The term "river of attachment" mentioned here is a Daoist technical term, metaphorically describing carnal desires as a drowning current.