《道德真經衍義手鈔》Vol. 6

Chapter 22 of the Dao De Jing teaches that "yielding leads to preservation," as illustrated by the story of Lin Xiangru and Lian Po. Both were high-ranking ministers of the Zhao state, but Lian Po resented Lin's superior position and threatened to humiliate him publicly. Upon hearing this, Lin consistently avoided confrontation. His subordinates questioned him: "You fear neither the mighty Qin state nor its threats—why then avoid Lian Po?" Lin explained: "Qin dares not underestimate Zhao precisely because it fears our unity. If I clash with General Lian, it would be like two tigers fighting—one must be wounded, leaving Qin to benefit. My yielding serves our nation's safety, not personal cowardice." Deeply moved by this, Lian Po later came bearing brambles to apologize. This exemplifies the wisdom of overcoming hardness with softness and achieving wholeness through apparent compromise.

The Zhuangzi's "Human World" chapter presents the story of Zhili Shu, a hunchbacked and deformed man whose chin touched his navel and shoulders rose above his head. Yet he earned a living by mending clothes and practicing divination, supporting a household of ten. When conscription came, his deformity exempted him from military service; when corvée labor was imposed, he was spared and even received relief grain. This demonstrates how seemingly flawed appearances can paradoxically preserve life. Similarly, in human affairs, restraining one's sharp edges and avoiding ostentatious displays of talent often ensures lasting safety. As the Book of Changes states, the simplest and most ordinary principles often hold the profoundest truths of the universe.

(Note: "Zhili Shu" is a fictional allegorical figure created by Zhuangzi, using extreme physical deformity to illustrate the philosophical concept of "the usefulness of the useless." The "bramble-bearing apology" later became a classic exemplar of acknowledging and rectifying mistakes.)

The principles governing all things in the world originate from simplicity and ease. By following this fundamental rule, all affairs under heaven naturally find their proper place. Zhuangzi discusses in his chapter "Mending Nature" how excessive ornamentation obscures essence, and how broad learning can disturb the original mind. Just as lavish decorations conceal plain simplicity, and excessive knowledge drowns the pure heart, only by abandoning these external adornments can one return to the natural state of Wuwei (non-action).

Liezi illustrates this through a metaphor in "Explaining Conjunctions": Just as sheep become irretrievably lost when wandering through multiple crossroads, so too will scholars lose their essential nature when pursuing too many directions. Here, sheep represent human spirit—maintaining one's original purity is crucial. Overemphasis on external norms like benevolence and righteousness makes people lose their authentic selves.

Gengsangzi uses archery as an analogy: If ten thousand people simultaneously shoot at one cunning bird, the creature cannot escape death. Similarly, when the human mind is disturbed by countless desires—like that bird targeted by myriad arrows—how can it remain unharmed? The complexity of all things pulls the human Shen (spirit) in countless directions, inevitably causing damage.

Water, being closest to the Dao, flows east or west without suffering harm from external things. Mencius observes in "Gaozi" that human nature resembles rushing water—directed eastward it flows east, guided westward it flows west. Water follows nature's course, nourishing all things without contention, thus remaining invulnerable to external harm.

Therefore, sages uphold the pure and singular Dao as the standard for all under heaven: Not displaying oneself, yet becoming manifest; not considering oneself right, yet attaining clarity; not boasting, yet achieving merit; not exalting oneself, yet enduring long. This mirrors Emperor Shun's practice recorded in the "Canon of Shun" from the Book of Documents, where he illuminated all directions and performed rituals at the Ancestral Temple on the first day of the new year.

This passage recounts several allegories and philosophical principles from Daoist classics, which I will explain one by one:

The first part describes the governance philosophy of the ancient sage-king Shun after ascending the throne. After offering sacrifices at the ancestral temple, Shun consulted the feudal lords of the four directions (Siyue) on statecraft, opened the city gates widely to attract talented individuals, and expanded his channels of observation to understand the people's hardships. This exemplifies an open and inclusive approach to governance.

Next, it cites a historical account from the Huainanzi: When Lord Jian of Zhao passed away and had not yet been buried, the Zhongmu region refused to participate in the mourning rites. In response, his son Lord Xiang launched a military campaign against Zhongmu. This story illustrates the importance of ritual propriety.

Regarding the chapter on "Rare words accord with nature," the explanation states that "rare" means speaking sparingly. The Book of Changes says that auspicious people speak little, while impatient people talk excessively. It lists six types of people's speech characteristics, among which the speech of auspicious individuals is concise, perfectly embodying the principle that "speaking little accords with nature."

The text rhetorically asks: Who creates violent storms? Heaven and earth. Yet even heaven and earth cannot sustain violent storms for long—how much less can humans? Quoting the Zhuangzi·Autumn Floods chapter, it states that humans in the cosmos are like a single hair on a horse's body—utterly insignificant. All things have their proper hierarchical order, so there's no need for excessive concern.

Finally, it explains the principle of "like energies seek each other": Those who align with the Dao (the Way) will attain it; those who align with De (Virtue/Power) will attain it; those who align with losing the Dao will lose it. Insufficient sincerity results in lack of trust. Citing the Book of Changes, it describes natural phenomena of sympathetic resonance: A dragon's roar generates clouds, a tiger's roar generates wind, and young cranes respond when their parents call. All these occur because energies in harmony naturally respond to each other.

The Daode Zhenjing Yanyi Shouchao passage conveys two main teachings: first, the natural principle of sympathetic resonance among like phenomena, and second, the necessity for grounded practice in Daoist cultivation without overreaching ambition.

The first half illustrates the principle of universal resonance through vivid analogies. When a crane calls from shadowy marshes, its fledgling responds from afar—this demonstrates sympathetic resonance among kindred beings. Similarly, when practitioners nurture virtuous qualities (the "noble rank" metaphor representing inner cultivation), their accumulated De (Virtue/Power) naturally attracts corresponding energies. The text cites natural phenomena: moonlit dewdrops forming on giant clam shells (fangzhu) from the Eastern Sea, or sunlight igniting tinder through bronze yang-sui mirrors—both manifestations of Qi (vital energy) resonating with its complementary counterpart.

The latter section employs everyday observations—"standing on tiptoe brings no lasting height, striding too wide permits no distant journey"—to warn against impatient cultivation. Master Du's commentary explains: yearning on tiptoe recalls Empress Chen's futile vigil in the Changmen Fu, while constrained strides resemble carrying burdens that hinder progress. This metaphor cautions against half-hearted practice—mere temporary enthusiasm resembles the Yan country youth who traveled to Handan to learn Zhao-style walking: not only failing to master the new gait but forgetting his original stride, he ultimately crawled home. The teaching emphasizes gradual cultivation through authentic practice, warning against losing one's fundamental nature through blind imitation.

This passage illustrates the dangers of arrogance through several classic anecdotes.

Yang Zhu (styled Ziju) once traveled south to Pei, where he encountered Laozi. The sage sighed and said, "I originally thought you could be taught, but now I see it's impossible." This was because Yang Zhu had grown even more prideful than before. Laozi criticized his haughty demeanor (suīsuī xūxū)—such an overbearing and domineering attitude would make others unwilling to associate with him. "Suī" signifies defiance and obstinacy, while "xū" represents forceful inflexibility. Though inwardly corrupted, he still put on an outward show of superiority.

This is like the frog at the bottom of a well boasting to the giant turtle of the Eastern Sea: "How happy I am! When I leave the well, I can hop onto the railing; when I return, I rest against the broken bricks. The water buoys my chin when I swim, and the mud barely covers my feet when I wade. I alone possess this well—my joy knows no bounds! Why don’t you come down and see?" But when the turtle tried to enter, its left foot hadn’t even touched the well’s edge before its right knee got stuck. As the turtle described the vastness of the ocean, the frog was left dumbstruck, finally realizing its own insignificance. Such is the fate of those who are self-satisfied.

A commentary on Zhuangzi’s "Autumn Floods" explains: "A shallow well is called a kanjing; the frog is a toad; gan refers to the well’s railing, and zhou to the bricks lining its walls. The giant turtle of the Eastern Sea is massive, able to ride the waves freely, occasionally coming ashore. Yet this tiny creature, dwelling in its shallow well, ignorant and narrow-minded, proudly boasts of its pitiful happiness to the turtle."

Another example is the man of Zheng named Huan, who spent his days in the land of Qiu bragging and showing off (zifa). This, too, serves as a warning—those who boast often lack true substance.

There was a man named Zheng Huan who studied in Qiu for three years and became a Confucian scholar. His learning, like a river nourishing nine miles, benefited his three clans (parents, wife, and children). However, when Daoists later debated with Confucians and Mohists, his father sided with the Mohists (the "Di" refers to Mo Di, or Mozi). Ten years later, Zheng Huan committed suicide. Is this not an example of self-praise leading to downfall?

In the Pianmu chapter of the Zhuangzi, it is said: "Webbed toes and extra fingers may seem natural but exceed the normal form; growths on the body may appear part of the physical form but violate innate nature." This is like how excessive self-satisfaction leads to the opposite outcome.

Daodejing Chapter 25 speaks of "something formless yet complete, existing before heaven and earth." Zhuangzi explains in the Great and Venerable Teacher (Dazongshi) chapter: "The Dao exists before Taiji (the undifferentiated primordial Qi before heaven and earth separated) yet does not seem lofty; it is beneath the six directions (heaven, earth, and the four cardinal directions) yet does not seem deep; it predates heaven and earth yet does not seem ancient." This shows that the Dao is neither lofty nor deep, neither ancient nor young—it is omnipresent yet formless and intangible.

The Yijing speaks of "Taiji" (Supreme Ultimate) in this same vein. The Xici commentary states: "In the Yi there is Taiji, which generates the two modes (Yin and Yang); the two modes generate the four images (Metal, Wood, Water, Fire); and the four images generate the eight trigrams (Bagua)." Here, it is pointed out that the origin of all things begins from "nothingness." Taiji is this ineffable ultimate existence, the root of all things.

The Dao is silent and empty, existing independently without change, circulating endlessly without cease—it may be regarded as the mother that gives birth to all under heaven.

This passage explores the ontological nature and operational principles of the Dao (the Way) in Daoist philosophy, illustrated through classic allegories and textual references.

The discussion begins with the Zhuangzi's "Discussion on Making All Things Equal," where the dialogue between a shadow and its penumbra (wangliang) reveals the interdependent nature of all existence. The shadow explains it moves according to the form it follows, which in turn depends on other conditions—much like how snakes rely on their ventral scales to crawl or cicadas need wings to fly. However, Guo Xiang's commentary highlights the true profundity lies in things undergoing "independent transformation" (duhua) without relying on specific conditions, embodying the Dao's immutable and self-sufficient nature.

The metaphor of "millet" (the king of grains) then illustrates the Dao's subtlety. The Scripture on Salvation (Duren Jing) compares millet to human survival's foundation, just as the Dao—while vast enough to fill the cosmic void (taixu)—can also reside within a grain of millet, demonstrating its all-encompassing yet inexhaustible quality. Xue Youqi's annotation emphasizes how attaining the Dao parallels life's dependence on nourishment.

The Yijing (Book of Changes) further elucidates the Dao's dynamic operation. The phrase "circulating through the six voids" describes the Dao's eternal flow between heaven, earth, and the four directions, mirroring the hexagrams' transformations—balancing hardness and softness without fixed patterns. This ceaseless cyclical movement embodies the Dao's principle of "operating perpetually without exhaustion."

Finally, the naming of the Dao is addressed. Du Guangting (Celestial Master Du) explains in his Expanded Meanings of the Sage (Guang Sheng Yi) that naming (ming) defines an entity's essence, while characters (zi) describe its attributes. Citing the Spring and Autumn official Shen Xu's five naming principles (truth, righteousness, image, borrowing, and analogy), he notes all things have names. Though indescribable, the Dao is provisionally called "the Way" (Dao), "Great" (da) for its vastness, "Receding" (shi) for its perpetual motion, "Far-reaching" (yuan) for its boundlessness, and "Returning" (fan) for its cyclical nature.

Collectively, these examples demonstrate the Dao's dual character—simultaneously encompassing all phenomena while transcending form, eternally unchanging yet constantly in flux.

In ancient times, there were five methods for naming individuals: The first was based on significant events, such as Tang Shuyu or Prince You of Lu. The second drew from virtuous qualities, like King Wen of Zhou being named "Chang" and King Wu named "Fa." The third derived from physical characteristics, exemplified by Confucius being named "Qiu" because his head resembled Mount Niqiu. The fourth was tied to objects present at birth, as when Confucius' son Bo Yu was named "Li" (carp) after someone gifted carp upon his birth. The fifth reflected circumstances related to the father, such as sharing the same birthday.

(Note: The term "clan system" here refers to the hereditary lineage system of ancient nobility. During the Spring and Autumn period, when Prince Wuhai of Lu passed away, Minister Yufu sought posthumous name suggestions from Duke Yin. Zhongzhong explained: The Son of Heaven bestows surnames based on virtue and establishes clan names through land grants; feudal lords derive their posthumous names from their grandfather's courtesy names to form family branches; officials with hereditary merit adopt official titles or fief names as clan identifiers. Ultimately, Duke Yin decided on "Zhan" as the clan name since Wuhai was the grandson of Prince Zhan.)

Thus, the Dao is supreme, Heaven is supreme, Earth is supreme, and the sovereign is supreme. Among the cosmos' four greats, the sovereign occupies one. As Xianqiumeng quoted from the Book of Songs in Mencius: "Under the vast canopy of heaven, no land is not the sovereign's territory; within the four seas, no person is not the sovereign's subject." (Note: "Pu" means universal, while "shuai" denotes adherence.)

The space extending upward from the earth all belongs to Heaven's domain. The Liezi·Heavenly Gifts chapter records: A man from Qi constantly feared the collapse of heaven and earth, leaving him no place to stand, losing sleep and appetite. Someone enlightened him: "Heaven is but accumulated Qi (vital energy), omnipresent. You move and breathe within this Qi daily—why fear its collapse?" Though profound in meaning, this passage at least confirms that all space above ground constitutes Heaven.

This passage elucidates the concept from the Daode Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue) that "Humans model Earth, Earth models Heaven, Heaven models Dao, and Dao models Nature (Ziran)." It begins by referencing a description of the sky from Zhuangzi·Free and Easy Wandering: The vast azure sky we perceive—is this its true color, or does distance render it indistinct? Viewed from above, the earth likely appears similarly blurred.

The explanation of "Humans model Earth" follows: Here, "humans" specifically refers to rulers. A monarch should emulate Earth's quiet stability, governing through Wuwei (non-action), thereby achieving great accomplishments. This perspective originates from Zhuangzi·The Way of Heaven, which states: Heaven produces nothing intentionally yet all things are naturally transformed; Earth nurtures nothing deliberately yet all things naturally grow; emperors impose no forced actions yet the world naturally finds peace.

The commentary (exegesis section) adds: A sage-king should embrace all things as Heaven and Earth do, following the natural rhythms of the seasons, allowing all beings to flourish freely. Precisely by refraining from forceful interference can one attain the merit of governing the world.