《道德真經衍義手鈔》Vol. 11

The Handwritten Commentary on the Extended Meaning of the True Scripture of Dao and De, Volume 11, Part 9, compiled by the Qing'an Hermit Wang Shouzheng of Five Peaks, explicates Chapter 40 of the Dao De Jing: "Reversal is the movement of the Dao (the Way)."

The phrase "Reversal is the movement of the Dao" means that the Dao operates in cyclical and recurring patterns. The Tuan commentary on the Fu hexagram in the Book of Changes states, "The Fu hexagram signifies smooth progress, as the yang (Yang) energy returns and moves in accordance with the natural flow." Just as yang energy withdraws inward to return to its source and expands outward with vigorous growth, neither its contraction nor its expansion encounters obstruction. Those aligned with the Dao (here referring to yang energy) gather without fault. This echoes the Xi Ci of the Book of Changes: "The Dao itself is still and unmoving, yet through its resonance with all things, it comprehends the principles of the world. Without the most subtle and sincere Dao, how could such a state be achieved?"

Observing the workings of heaven and earth reveals the same principle. The Xi Ci states that by observing celestial phenomena above and terrestrial patterns below, one can understand the mysteries of yin-yang (Yin-Yang) transformation. By tracing back to the source, one can penetrate the principles of life and death. The Liezi·Huangdi Chapter also mentions the imagery of water in the Five Phases (Wu Xing) flowing counter to its usual course (referring to the practice of guiding jing (essence) and qi (Qi) in reverse along the Governing and Conception Vessels during cultivation). When one fully returns to the source, action aligns with the timing of heaven. Laozi speaks of "a mind as good as the deep abyss." The abyss is empty and still, unmixed with external things; though its surface may ripple and change, the essence of the depths remains constant. In this state of returning to the source and preserving stillness to attain complete authenticity, one's actions seize the most opportune moment.

"The weak are the instruments of the Dao" speaks to the principle that the soft overcomes the hard. As in the Zhuangzi·Autumn Floods, the snake's dialogue with the wind illustrates: the wind appears weak and powerless ("billowing from the northern sea, billowing into the southern sea"), yet it can propel the snake's back to move. Though the wind seems insubstantial, it contains immense power—this is the manifestation of the Dao's use of weakness.

This passage integrates Daoist and Confucian thought, using vivid analogies to elucidate the nature of the Dao (the Way) and the varying capacities of human comprehension.

It begins with the interaction between wind and humans to illustrate the relativity of strength: when a person pokes the wind with a finger, the wind doesn't break the finger; when stepping on wind, it doesn't break the foot—this seems to show wind's weakness. Yet conversely, gale-force winds can topple giant trees and tear off rooftops, demonstrating wind's formidable power. Like water relying on the Great Void (Taixu, referring to cosmic origin), appearing soft yet adapting effortlessly—flowing east when eastern banks break, west when western banks rupture.

Next, it cites the Liezi to explain the generation of all things: all forms originate from the formless (the Dao), just as vast entities like heaven and earth emerge from the formless. A profound question is posed: If heaven and earth lack consciousness or mind-nature, how could they come into being? This rhetorical question actually reveals that all things originate from their fundamental generative principle.

Finally, it classifies people's understanding through three attitudes toward the Dao: those of superior capacity practice diligently upon hearing the great Dao; those of average capacity waver between belief and doubt; those of inferior capacity laugh at it—yet being mocked by vulgar people precisely proves its authenticity. This resembles Confucius praising Yan Hui for "never slackening upon hearing the Dao," and his principle of teaching students according to their aptitude: profound truths can be shared with above-average learners, while presenting overly abstruse teachings to below-average people may cause rejection.

The core message reveals the Dao's dual nature—both soft and strong—and the innate differences in people's comprehension of truth, necessitating differentiated approaches to spiritual instruction.

This passage illustrates through multiple classical allusions how practitioners who seek quick results and aim beyond their capacity will ultimately remain at superficial levels. Just as Zixia (a disciple of Confucius) would be captivated by worldly spectacles during his travels, yet feel joy upon hearing his master's teachings—constantly torn between mundane pleasures and the path of sages. Even an accomplished disciple like Zixia struggled with such choices, let alone ordinary people.

The text then cites the "Robber Zhi" chapter from the Zhuangzi to highlight human nature: the eyes crave beauty, the ears desire harmonious sounds, the mouth seeks exquisite flavors, and the heart pursues fulfillment. Yet life is fleeting, and truly carefree moments of laughter are vanishingly rare. To dwell within the boundless cosmos with our limited lifespan is like a thoroughbred steed flashing past a crack—gone in an instant.

Two further anecdotes demonstrate how misplaced treasures lose their value: A man of Song tried selling ceremonial caps (popular in the Zou-Lu region) to the Yue people (who practiced tattooed, cropped hair and wore no hats), only to find no buyers. Likewise, the jade discovered by Bian He of Chu was twice rejected by successive kings, costing him both feet, until the third ruler recognized it as a priceless treasure.

The conclusion is clear: Those stubbornly clinging to narrow perspectives can never grasp the profound truth of the Dao (the Way). It is as futile as peddling ritual caps to the hatless Yue or presenting rare jade to unappreciative kings—a lesson in the futility of misaligned efforts.

In the "Autumn Floods" chapter of the Zhuangzi, the sea god Ruo of the Northern Sea said: You cannot discuss the ocean with a frog at the bottom of a well, for it is confined by its narrow space; you cannot speak of ice and snow with summer insects, for they are limited by their season; likewise, you cannot talk about the Dao (the Way) with those of shallow understanding, for they are bound by their preconceptions. This illustrates how ordinary people struggle to comprehend the subtle profundity of the Dao and may even mock it. Yet this very state of being misunderstood by the mundane world proves its eternal and unchanging truth.

The Daodejing states: Those who truly understand the Dao appear dull-witted; those making progress in cultivation seem to regress; the smooth and level Way appears rugged. The highest virtue (De) is like a valley—hollow and receptive. The purest whiteness seems stained; abundant virtue seems deficient; vigorous virtue seems indolent; simple genuineness seems adulterated.

As Confucius said: "I transmit rather than innovate; in private, I compare myself to Lao Peng (a virtuous minister of the Shang dynasty known for preserving ancient learning)." The Analects records Confucius describing himself as "a transmitter, not a creator, believing in and devoted to antiquity, privately comparing myself to Lao Peng." Here, "transmitting" means inheriting established teachings, while "creating" refers to originating new doctrines. Confucius believed innovation was beyond ordinary capability, but transmission was attainable for the worthy.

The Records of the Grand Historian recounts that when Confucius visited the Zhou capital to consult Laozi about rituals, Laozi said: "The ancient figures you discuss have long decayed to bones—only their words remain. A nobleman seizes opportunities to fulfill his aspirations; when fortune falters, he drifts like tumbleweed. I’ve heard that skilled merchants hide their treasures, and those of great virtue appear simple. Rid yourself of arrogance and excessive desires, of affected mannerisms and impractical ambitions—these harm you. This is all I can tell you."

In the "Deliberate Action" chapter, Zhuangzi writes: The sage’s life follows nature’s course; his death is but transformation among all things. In stillness, he shares the virtue (De) of yin; in movement, he rides the waves of yang. He neither races ahead of things nor provokes calamity. He acts only when stirred and rises only when compelled.

Like the Elder of Han Yin (a figure in the Zhuangzi), who pursued the true Dao in solitude, standing apart from worldly currents.

This passage presents a profound dialogue from Zhuangzi's parables about the tension between mechanical ingenuity and natural simplicity. When Confucius' disciple Zigong encounters an old farmer in Chu who insists on drawing water with heavy clay pots instead of labor-saving devices, the farmer explains that using machinery breeds a calculating mind. Such cunning thoughts, he argues, taint the purity of one's heart, disturb spiritual tranquility, and sever one's connection with the Dao. This exemplifies the Daoist concept of "flowing with all things" — embracing natural rhythms through wuwei (non-action) rather than forced intervention.

The text references two symbolic vessels: the "Nine Tripods" cast by the Yellow Emperor from Mount Shou's bronze as sacred state regalia, and the "hu-lian" sacrificial vessels used in Zhou dynasty temple rites. These precious ritual objects illustrate the principle that "great vessels take time to complete." Just as ceremonial treasures require meticulous crafting, true spiritual accomplishment demands prolonged cultivation. As Zhuangzi observes in "The Human World," "Splendid achievements require duration," emphasizing how authentic self-cultivation matures through patient accumulation.

These narratives collectively articulate Daoism's core philosophy of honoring nature's way while rejecting artificial cleverness. They underscore the vital importance of maintaining mental purity and harmonizing with natural laws. Whether in governance or personal refinement, one should emulate ritual vessels undergoing time's tempering — ultimately achieving the paradoxically perfect states described in the Daodejing: "The great square has no corners" (ultimate integrity appears unconstrained) and "The greatest music sounds faint" (supreme harmony seems silent). This represents the ultimate return to primordial simplicity.

Confucius (Zhongni) responded to a question by saying: Do not arbitrarily alter the natural order (wu qian ling), nor force the completion of things (wu quan cheng). Excessive intervention causes harm (guo du yi ye), for altering natural patterns and forcing outcomes are perilous matters (qian ling quan cheng dai shi). Genuine achievement arises naturally like water finding its course (mei cheng zai jiu), whereas forced results often bring irreversible consequences (e cheng bu ke gai) - should this not serve as a warning?

Chapter 42 of the Dao De Jing describes the cosmological generative process: The Dao first gives birth to the primordial "One" (Taiji), which then divides into the two qi of Yin and Yang (er), whose harmonious interaction produces the third energy (san), ultimately giving rise to the myriad things. As recorded in the Liezi's "Heaven's Gifts" chapter, the earliest world underwent four evolutionary stages - Grand Nothingness (tai yi, the void state before qi), Grand Beginning (tai chu, the emergence of qi), Grand Commencement (tai shi, the formation of shapes), and Grand Simplicity (tai su, the development of material substance). When qi, form, and substance first intermingled indistinctly, this was called the "Chaotic Fusion" state (hun lun, equivalent to the "One"). This state cannot be seen, heard, or touched, yet it transforms to produce all things. Through seven and ninefold transformations, the clear and light qi ascended to form heaven while the turbid and heavy qi descended to form earth, with the harmonized Yin-Yang qi constituting humanity. Thus heaven and earth contain essential essences (jing) that give birth to all creatures.

The Zhouyi similarly describes how the heavenly and earthly qi (Yin and Yang) intertwine (yin yun) like the union of male and female, naturally producing the pure essence of all things. In the "Tian Zifang" chapter, Zhuangzi depicts: The blazing Yang qi (he he) rises from earth while the solemn Yin qi (su su) descends from heaven - their harmonious interaction generates life. All beings carry Yin on their backs and embrace Yang in their arms, achieving balance through the harmonizing qi (chong qi).

This passage elucidates the principles of cultivating mind and nature. The spiritual abode (lingfu) is like a house—when kept empty and luminous (xushi), the light of wisdom (chunbai laibing) naturally arises. As Zhuangzi states, "An empty room generates pure brightness," meaning only through inner purity can one's true nature manifest.

Mencius discusses in the Gongsun Chou chapter how a noble person achieves "unshaken mind" (bu dong xin, undisturbed by external things), thereby nurturing vast righteous Qi (haoran zhi qi). This Qi is supremely great and strong. When cultivated through upright methods without harm, it fills heaven and earth. Just as Confucius remarked that "at forty, I had no doubts," indicating mental maturity when one comprehends the Dao (ming Dao) and establishes Virtue (li De), naturally maintaining inner stability.

The Daode Jing observes that while people dislike inauspicious terms like "solitary," "desolate," and "unworthy" (ancient royal self-deprecations), rulers adopt them as titles. This mirrors heavenly principles: what seems diminished may be enhanced, and apparent gains may conceal loss. The Humility (Qian) hexagram in the Zhouyi similarly teaches that heaven reduces the full to benefit the modest; earth humbles heights to circulate lows; spirits punish the arrogant but bless the humble; humanity detests pride while favoring humility.

The initial line of the Qian hexagram states: "The humble noble crosses great rivers," showing how self-governance through humility (bei yi zi mu) brings auspicious outcomes even in daunting challenges. Contrast this with the gluttonous taotie (mythical insatiable beast)—ill-gotten wealth may seem prosperous, but Confucius said: "Wealth and honor gained unrighteously are to me as floating clouds." The Book of Documents likewise warns: "Fullness invites loss"—complacency brings downfall.

This passage illustrates the principle that "virtuous governance prospers a nation while tyranny leads to its downfall" through historical examples:

The text first cites the Book of Documents·Great Yu's Counsels, where the minister Yi (Boyi) admonished Yu the Great: "Only De (Virtue) can move Heaven, reaching everywhere regardless of distance; complacency invites loss while humility brings benefit—this is the Dao (Way) of Heaven."

It then demonstrates tyranny's inevitable collapse through the Qin dynasty's demise: The powerful Qin state conquered all six warring kingdoms to unify China, possessing military might unmatched by any, yet crumbled rapidly due to despotic rule. Fusu (the First Emperor's eldest son) perished at the Great Wall, while Ziying (Qin's last ruler) surrendered only to be executed by Xiang Yu—the dynasty lasting merely 46 days. This proves autocratic rule inevitably brings destruction.

In contrast, the Han dynasty flourished through benevolent governance: Emperor Gaozu (Liu Bang), a humble native of Peixian, excelled at employing talent (notably the "Three Heroes"—Zhang Liang the strategist, Han Xin the military commander, and Xiao He the logistician). Through virtuous policies, he overcame the stronger Xiang Yu. Abolishing Qin's harsh laws, he retained only three basic statutes: "life for murder, and proportionate punishment for injury/theft," thereby pacifying the people. Such humane governance sustained Han through 24 emperors across four centuries.

Finally, Confucius's evaluation of Zilu serves as warning: The courageous disciple Zilu died violently due to reckless bravery; likewise, the legendary archer Houyi and the superhumanly strong Ao both met untimely ends. This shows that relying solely on martial prowess without cultivating De (Virtue) ultimately invites disaster.

(Note: The "Three Heroes" refer to Zhang Liang's strategic brilliance, Han Xin's military genius, and Xiao He's administrative excellence. The "Three-Code Covenant" was Liu Bang's famous policy upon entering Guanzhong—abolishing Qin's complex legal system while preserving only three fundamental laws.)

This passage recounts the story of three ancient warriors, serving as a warning against relying solely on brute force. The text mentions Yi (the legendary divine archer), ruler of the Youqiong clan, whose archery skills were unparalleled, and Ao (the mythical strongman) who could push boats across dry land. Their deeds were already recorded in Chapter 33 of the Dao De Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue).

All three men relied on their physical prowess to surpass others, yet none met a favorable end. Laozi (Laojun, the founder of Daoism) uses their example to admonish the world: excessive displays of strength and abandonment of the Dao's softness (the Daoist principle of yielding to nature and avoiding forceful contention) inevitably invite calamity. Though these warriors achieved temporary glory, their failure to understand moderation and their violation of yi (the principle of appropriate conduct) led them to misfortune.