《道德真經取善集》Vol. 11

This scripture uses the relationship between rivers and the ocean to illustrate the core Daoist principle of "humility and non-contention." The reason the ocean becomes the sovereign gathering place of all rivers is its ability to remain in the lowest position ("excelling at staying beneath"). Just as the Dao of earth (referring to natural law) reduces the full to replenish the humble, the ocean's humble position naturally attracts all rivers to flow into it.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (called Emperor Minghuang in commentaries) explains that this resembles how sages govern the world with humility, causing the people to follow them as naturally as children returning to their parents. The sage Heshang Gong further points out that to lead others, one must maintain humility like the ocean; to stand at the forefront, one must place personal interests behind. Such leaders, though occupying high positions, won't make people feel oppressed ("people don't feel burdened"); when standing ahead, they won't provoke envy or harm ("people don't injure them").

Lü Jifu (a Song Dynasty scholar) adds that although sages occupy exalted positions, they often use humble self-references like "the solitary one" and willingly bear the nation's disgrace and misfortunes ("accepting the country's filth and inauspiciousness"). They don't actively contend but act in accordance with circumstances ("moving only when compelled"). Precisely because they don't contend with others, no one in the world can contend with them ("none under heaven can contend with them").

Through this natural imagery of rivers and the ocean, the text reveals the Daoist wisdom of "humility" and "non-contention" in human affairs: true leadership isn't about forceful domination but winning hearts through humble inclusiveness. When leaders lower themselves and yield benefits to others, they gain genuine support from the people.

Kumarajiva (the eminent monk) said: The human mind and body are fundamentally illusory—who could contend with this formless and imageless existence?

Lü Jifu (Northern Song Daoist Lü Huiqing) explained: Only those who use humble words when dealing with others and put their own interests last are truly free from contention. Such people are embraced by the masses without being resented, and naturally, no one in the world can contend with them. Unless one has truly comprehended "profound De (Virtue)," how could they achieve this? Thus, precisely because they do not contend, no one in the world can contend with them.

The core teaching of this chapter emphasizes the virtue of humility and staying low. Just as rivers and seas, by skillfully remaining in the lowest position, become the gathering place of all streams, the sage, by speaking humbly and putting personal gain last, is willingly upheld by all under heaven. Tell me, who could possibly contend with one so humble?

In Chapter 67, All Under Heaven Speak of It:

All under heaven say the Dao is vast, yet it seems unlike any concrete thing.

Du Bi (Northern Qi scholar) explained: "Xiao" means resemblance. Because the Dao does not resemble any particular thing, it is said to be "not xiao (unlike)."

Su Ziyou (Su Zhe) said: The Dao is boundless and formless, profound and beyond naming. It fills all things yet resembles none—this is precisely its greatness. If the Dao resembled some concrete thing, it would merely be an ordinary object—how then could it be called great?

If the Dao truly resembled a particular thing, it would long since have become insignificant.

Emperor Huizong of Song stated in the Imperial Commentary: Those that imitate concrete things are small; those that are imitated by all things are great. The Dao embraces and carries all things, vast and limitless, thus appearing unlike any particular thing. If the Dao resembled something, it would mean there exists something beyond the Dao—how could this be called "great"?

Wang Bi (Three Kingdoms metaphysician) said: "Its smallness would be long-standing" means that if it resembled a concrete thing, it would have long since diminished. Once it resembles something, it loses its essential greatness.

Lü Huiqing further explained: People under heaven only see the Dao's vastness and say it resembles no particular thing, yet they do not realize that its very greatness lies in this very lack of resemblance. The great Dao is omnipresent, filling the cosmos. Precisely because it is everywhere, it appears unlike any particular thing—this is why the Dao is great. All things arise from the Dao, and beyond the Dao there is nothing, so there is nothing for it to resemble. If the Dao resembled something, it would imply the existence of something outside the Dao—could such a Dao still be called "great"?

Wang Yuanze (Wang Anshi's son, Wang Pang) concluded: "Xiao" means resemblance to something. As the origin of all things, the Dao's essence (its true nature)....

In the Daode Jing, Laozi proposes that the Dao (the Way) is the origin of all things. It does not imitate any specific object; rather, all things should follow the Dao. If one were to say that the Dao imitates something, it would reduce the Dao to the level of ordinary things. The true Great Dao transcends form and appearance.

Laozi states that he holds three treasures:

The first is "compassion" (ci). The Tang Emperor Xuanzong explains that although the Dao is supreme, these three virtues can be cultivated for self-cultivation and governing the state. Wang Yuanze notes that while worldly people consider these virtues ordinary, sages regard them as fundamental. "Compassion" primarily refers to the natural love of parents for their children (the root of "benevolence" (ren)), distinct from deliberate universal love. The Book of Rites also states, "As a father, one should embody compassion." Confucius spoke of "benevolence," and the Buddha prohibited "killing"—though the teachings of these three sages differ, they all take "compassion" as their foundation.

The second is "frugality" (jian). Gu Huan interprets this as treasuring one's vital essence (Jing) and life energy (Qi), avoiding extravagance and waste. Lü Jifu describes it as a way of life guided by moderation. Both Yu the Great in self-cultivation and King Wen in state governance were renowned for their frugality, and the Book of Documents also praises "reverence and frugality as virtues."

The third is "daring not to be ahead of the world" (bu gan wei tianxia xian). Gu Huan explains this as maintaining humility and willingly taking a subordinate position. Lü Jifu clarifies that it means not striving to compete but always following others. Wang Yuanze adds that the "Modesty" (Qian) hexagram in the Book of Changes conveys the same idea—heaven, earth, humans, and spirits all value the virtue of humility.

Finally, it is noted that precisely because one harbors compassion, true courage can arise (such as parents becoming brave to protect their children). Confucius took "benevolence" as his foundation and "frugality and yielding" as virtues—in essence, he also treasured these three treasures.

Wang Bi states that deploying troops with a heart of compassion ensures victory in battle, while using it for defense creates unshakable stability—this is true courage. Lü Ji further explains that what appears soft and tender can overcome the rigid and strong; such is the great valor of overcoming hardness with gentleness.

Mencius cites three historical examples: the benevolent Emperor Shun maintained justice by exiling the Four Evils; the virtuous Tang of Shang overthrew the tyrant Jie of Xia; and King Wen of Zhou, who cherished his people, could pacify the realm with a single act of righteous anger—are these not the true martial achievements of sages accomplished through compassion?

Regarding the principle of frugality, Gu Huan explains it in terms of both self-cultivation and governance: individuals who treasure their Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) prolong their lives, while rulers who cherish the strength of their people spread virtuous governance far and wide. Whether in nurturing the self or governing a state, practicing frugality brings abundance—as the Book of Documents states, "Guard frugality as your virtue, and you may plan for the long term."

On the wisdom of "daring not to be first in the world," commentators offer various insights: the Imperial Commentary notes that the Dao contends not yet excels in prevailing, so those who embody it naturally become leaders of all things. Heshang Gong regards this as the realm of a realized Daoist adept, while Wang Anshi emphasizes that by not striving to be first, one is instead elevated by all things as their superior.

The scripture concludes with a warning: abandoning compassion while boasting of valor, discarding frugality for extravagance, and rushing ahead without yielding—such rigid and violent approaches lead only to ruin. Gu Huan elaborates: reckless displays of brute courage, squandering vital essence, exhausting the people’s strength, and always seeking precedence are all paths to self-destruction.

Conversely, waging war with compassion unites people for victory, while defending with it ensures solidarity between ruler and subjects. The Imperial Commentary illustrates this with the principles that "the benevolent have no enemies" and "the people spontaneously protect their ruler as they would themselves." Emperor Xuanzong of Tang further clarifies that the key lies in preserving all life and stabilizing the hearts of the people.

This scripture primarily discusses how "compassion" (ci) is the fundamental means by which the heavenly Dao (the Way) saves and protects all beings, as well as the wisdom of true warriors who do not rely on force, anger, or contention.

Regarding "compassion": When heaven seeks to aid a person, it protects them through compassion. Those who harbor benevolence in their hearts are inwardly guided by heaven, while those without compassion have their wisdom stripped away by heaven. Thus, the method by which heaven rescues and safeguards people is through "compassion." This is why, among the "Three Treasures" (ci, jian, bugan wei tianxia xian—compassion, frugality, and not daring to be first in the world) of Daoism, "compassion" is ranked first. Heshang Gong (a Han Dynasty Daoist scholar) explains that when heaven wishes to assist the virtuous, it endows them with a compassionate nature, enabling them to help both themselves and others. Wang Yuanze (a Song Dynasty scholar) also believed that the Three Treasures all take compassion as their foundation, and heaven saves and protects people precisely because they embody this benevolence.

Regarding "skill in warfare": True generals (shi) do not subdue others through force. Just as the ancient recluse Shinan Yiliao of Chu resolved a feud between two families by juggling pellets, or as the famed Chu statesman Sunshu Ao averted war by calmly holding a feather fan while reclining. Those skilled in warfare do not resort to anger, for the highest military strategy relies on tactics rather than rage to achieve victory. Heshang Gong states that those truly versed in the art of war can eliminate wicked thoughts in their hearts and prevent calamity before it arises—there is no need for anger at all. Wang Anshi similarly held that avoiding anger is the path to true mastery in warfare.

Those who truly overcome their enemies do not rely on contention, for contention violates heavenly De (Virtue/Power). Historically, wars fought over land and cities have caused immense casualties, yet victory and defeat remain unpredictable. Not asserting dominance achieves true strength; not giving in to anger amplifies one's authority; not engaging in contention resolves disputes. These three wisdoms all stem from "De" (the manifestation of the Dao), hence they are called "skillful."

Heshang Gong further elaborates that those who truly understand the Dao conquer their enemies through benevolence and virtue, drawing the near to submit and the distant to come willingly—without actively contending, the enemy naturally yields. Examples like King Tang of Shang exiling the tyrant Jie of Xia or King Wu of Zhou overthrowing the despotic Zhou of Shang demonstrate that these acts were undertaken to rid the people of harm, not out of personal vengeance. This is the true essence of skillful warfare.

Liu Renhui explains that true De (Virtue/Power) can influence all things and naturally make enemies submit, hence it is called "conquering adversaries." The best victory is achieved without crossing blades, therefore termed "non-contention" (Wuwei). Because contention violates De, winning without battle represents the highest military strategy.

Those skilled in warfare value strategy over brute force—winning a hundred battles doesn't make one a true master. The genuine military expert can subdue enemies without fighting, which is the ultimate achievement. Those adept at employing others always maintain humility.

The Imperial Commentary states: Even with celestial wisdom, one shouldn't be self-righteous—thus the wise voluntarily offer counsel. Even with unparalleled talent, one shouldn't act arbitrarily—thus the capable willingly serve. Even with eloquence, one shouldn't boast—thus the articulate gladly contribute. Heshang Gong notes: Those who skillfully employ assistants must preserve a humble attitude.

The Compilation of Subtleties further elaborates: Effective leadership relies on humility rather than coercion. When appointing ministers, treat them as limbs and vital organs; when commissioning generals, reverently confer authority and personally escort their chariots. This embodies the "De of non-contention."

Lü Jifu observes: Those who comprehend the Dao (the Way) don't contend with others. Precisely because they don't contend, none in the world can contend with them. Thus, true warriors don't flaunt prowess, skilled fighters remain unprovoked, and masterful victors avoid contention—this is the "De of non-contention."

The Imperial Commentary indicates: Let the observant employ their vision, let the wise contribute their strategies, while leaders needn't appear exceptionally clever themselves. Lü Jifu adds: Those who understand the Dao can humble themselves before others, which is why people willingly serve them. Skillful leaders maintain this humble position—this is the essence of "harnessing others' strength."

This state may be called "matching heaven's ancient perfection" (the supreme state of aligning with celestial principles). The Imperial Commentary explains: The Dao of heaven follows natural Wuwei (non-action), excels at employing others without contention, thus achieving this ultimate state of cosmic harmony. "Perfection" here means the highest point, like the ridgepole of a house being its apex.

This chapter's core teaching: True warriors don't flaunt might, remain unprovoked, avoid contention, and skillfully utilize others' capacities. Through De, one achieves non-contention; through wisdom, one harnesses human potential—only thus can one match heaven's Dao and reach the supreme state of accomplishing all through Wuwei.

Chapter 69 discusses military principles: Ancient masters of warfare declared, "I dare not take the offensive but prefer to assume the defensive."

This passage explores the wisdom of military strategy. Raising arms only when absolutely necessary is called "responsive warfare," and those who adopt this passive stance are termed "guests" (the defensive side). Gu Huan explains that those who initiate conflict domestically or strike first on the battlefield are "hosts" (the aggressive side), while those who maintain peace without provocation and only respond when forced are "guests." Those who strike first easily become arrogant and fall into peril, while those who follow heavenly will and respond to popular sentiment can preserve themselves.

Daring not to advance an inch but willingly retreating a foot demonstrates distaste for slaughter—thus making attack difficult but withdrawal easy. Lü Jifu observes that aggressors typically oppose cosmic principles while defenders comply with them, the former toiling while the latter remains at ease. Advancing breeds arrogance while retreating maintains humility; attacking appears hasty while defending shows composure. Using compliance to counter opposition, ease to counter toil, humility to counter arrogance, and calm to counter haste—these constitute unconquerable advantages.

The truly skilled commander neither flaunts military might nor leaves traces of action. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang notes that as the defensive side retreats a foot without engaging in conflict, though appearing to respond to the enemy, it's as if no action were taken. Zhang Junxiang adds that when war is instigated by others, one hasn't actually taken initiative but merely responds to circumstances—thus appearing active while actually practicing non-action (Wuwei).

The most benevolent army marches forth without actual combat, which amounts to non-action. Regarding "rolling up sleeves" (a gesture of anger), Emperor Xuanzong explains that skilled warriors never rage, as if having no sleeves to roll. Those truly adept at victory don't rely on contention—Gu Huan remarks that when opponents are already transformed by virtue (De), even if one wished to draw them into battle, there would be no enemy to engage.

Holding weapons without using them—Emperor Xuanzong observes that weapons exist for killing, but when rooted in kindness and harmony, bearing arms becomes like bearing none. No disaster surpasses underestimating enemies—Cheng Xuanying explains that internally belittling opponents resembles dismissing worldly temptations, leading to the calamity of falling into the three wretched rebirths. Underestimation makes one lose the "three treasures" (compassion, frugality, and not presuming to lead the world). Lü Jifu concludes that failing to govern through non-action, knowing only attack without understanding retreat, causes the loss of these precious qualities.

This scripture primarily discusses two core concepts: the Dao of warfare and the accessibility of the Dao (the Way).

Regarding the Dao of warfare, the text states: Knowing only how to attack without understanding retreat is a manifestation of underestimating one's enemy. Such underestimation leads to the loss of compassionate heart, forfeiting the innate care for people and all things. When two states raise armies against each other, victory belongs to the side that maintains mercy and compassion. The text emphasizes that military action must only be taken as a last resort, requiring constant vigilance and avoidance of underestimation—for underestimating the enemy causes the loss of the most precious virtue: benevolence.

Concerning the nature of the Dao, the scripture explains: The principles I teach are actually easy to understand and simple to practice, yet people in the world often fail to comprehend or implement them. The Dao is as evident as a broad road—not difficult to grasp. It manifests in daily life; the truths pointed out by sages reside in the routines of eating and resting. If people could perceive this principle to respond to affairs, practice would come naturally. Yet ordinary people constantly use the Dao without realizing it—they don't even recognize it, let alone put it into practice.

True principles require no exhaustive mental speculation; they become clear without forced pursuit. They are ever-present, attainable without deliberate action. Attempting to understand through cleverness leads to superficiality—hence the world fails to truly comprehend. Trying to practice through forceful effort leads to failure—hence the world cannot truly implement them.

Speech has its fundamental purpose; action has its guiding principle. Though words may vary infinitely, they root in reason; though affairs demand endless responses, they follow the Dao as their guide. By grasping this fundamental purpose and guiding principle, nothing in the world remains difficult. Speech takes "non-speaking" as its purpose; action takes "non-action" (Wuwei) as its guide. Understanding this purpose makes comprehension easy; mastering this principle makes practice simple. The reason people cannot understand or practice these truths is precisely because they haven't grasped this fundamental purpose and guiding principle.

This passage elucidates the profundity of the Dao and the realm of sages. The true Dao cannot be fully expressed through words nor completely manifested through concrete matters. The ancient sages attained a state of thoughtless non-action (Wuwei) and spontaneous harmony with heaven, a realm that transcends ordinary human comprehension, which is why few can truly understand them.

Those who understand me (referring to the Dao-realized person) are rare, and precisely because of this, those who can emulate me become truly precious. The phrase "wearing coarse cloth while holding jade within" is a metaphor: the sage outwardly wears rough hemp garments (symbolizing ordinary appearance), yet inwardly cradles precious jade (symbolizing the invaluable inner nature). This means sages appear no different from ordinary people externally, yet contain precious moral cultivation within. They do not deliberately display their virtue (De), just as one would conceal jade within coarse clothing.

Zhuangzi said that sages keep the Dao in their hearts, while ordinary people constantly argue to display it to others. This chapter illustrates that the Dao is actually easy to comprehend and practice, yet few in the world truly understand and embody it. Because the Dao has its fundamental principles (zong) and sovereign ruler (jun), only a handful of wise individuals can apprehend it. The reason sages are difficult to understand lies precisely in their concealment of the precious Dao beneath ordinary appearances.

The later mention of "knowing not-knowing is supreme" means: recognizing what one does not know represents the highest wisdom; not knowing yet believing one knows constitutes a flaw. Those who truly understand the Dao realize it cannot be fully grasped through ordinary cognition (not-knowing), yet this very awareness represents the most superior understanding (supreme).

This passage from the Daode Zhenjing Qushan Ji primarily discusses the dialectical relationship between "knowing" and "not knowing." The truly wise (those who know the highest truths) understand the limits of their knowledge. Forcing understanding through artificial "knowing" only brings inner turmoil. Thus, pretending to know what one doesn't is the real affliction.

Sima Guang (Duke Wen) explains: Feigning ignorance can avert resentment, while pretending to knowledge invites disaster. Only by recognizing forced knowing as an affliction can one avoid being trapped by it. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang's commentary notes: The sage's freedom from this affliction stems precisely from viewing forced knowing as pathological.

Lü Jifu elaborates further: When one recognizes that "forced knowing" itself is the problem, one returns to the original state of natural unknowing and non-striving. Thus "knowing" ceases to be a burden. Like Nanbo Ziqi (a Daoist figure) said: "First I mourned for those who had lost their true selves, then I mourned for those who mourned for others, until finally I relinquished even this mourning"—this represents the true realization that "forced knowing is an affliction."

Wang Yuanze concludes: The most dreadful condition is having an affliction without recognizing it. This chapter's essence teaches that the Dao fundamentally transcends cognition—the highest wisdom lies in recognizing what one doesn't know. Forcing understanding through artificial knowledge creates obstacles. Sages avoid this affliction precisely because they understand forced knowing is the root problem.

Chapter 72 discusses the principle of "awe": When people cease fearing rightful authority, greater calamities will follow. Heshang Gong explains: Here "awe" (wei) refers to calamity. Those unafraid of minor misfortunes invite major disasters like death. What truly deserves reverence is nurturing the spirit and aligning with heavenly principles.

Cheng Xuanying interprets from a cultivation perspective: This "awe" implicitly refers to spiritual discipline. The "great awe" signifies hellish punishments (the three wretched destinies and the northern Luo Feng prison). Beings who scorn truth for worldly indulgence will inevitably face underworld retribution. Liu Zhongping cites the Book of Songs: When multitudes disregard heaven's majesty and act wantonly, celestial punishment follows. As the Book of Documents states: Those who fear not what should be feared will ultimately confront true terror.

The conclusion advises: "Do not constrict your dwelling place"—suggesting practitioners should maintain expansive mental openness.

The human nature is like a vast mansion, capable of infinite expansion. Those with narrow perspectives (petty scholars) fail to comprehend the Dao precisely because their mental dwelling is too confined. If one can open the capacity of the heart-mind, it can encompass all things between heaven and earth, existing everywhere. What Mencius called the "expansive dwelling" refers to this very state.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (Emperor Ming of Tang) annotates: The abode of the spirit-mind (Shen) is the heart. One must eliminate selfish desires and distracting thoughts (removing emotions and desires), maintaining a heart-mind that is empty and pure (empty yet luminous). Only then can one avoid constraining one's inherent nature.

Regarding "do not despise life": Life is the coalescence of primordial Qi (Qi's gathering), and human life interconnects with all things. Those who despise life are bound by desires during the day (daytime actions that fetter and dissipate), repeatedly depleting their Qi until even the nightly rejuvenating vitality (night Qi) becomes insufficient for sustenance. Only by preserving the harmony of Yin-Yang (maintaining great harmony) and avoiding premature demise can one truly embody non-disdain for life.

Master Heshang explains: Human life depends on the spirit (Shen). The spirit delights in purity and emptiness. Indulging in excessive eating and drinking or yielding to desires (neglecting the Dao while filled with lustful and deviant thoughts) damages one's lifespan and scatters the spirit (depleting life and dispersing Shen).

Liu Zhongping observes: Not confining the dwelling of the heart-mind is the foundation of Virtue (De's ground), while not despising life is the root of Virtue (De's essence). The former pertains to fulfilling one's nature (exhausting nature), the latter to fulfilling one's heavenly mandate (fulfilling destiny). Thus, the sage does not use the artificial to destroy the natural (not using humanity to extinguish heaven), nor does he employ cleverness to harm life (not using contrivance to extinguish destiny).

Wang Yuanze points out: Human nature is originally vast and unobstructed, but as worldly teachings decline, people lose their way back to simplicity. Compressing the dwelling of the heart-mind makes it narrow; blocking the passage of life makes it stagnant. A narrow heart-mind leads to hypocrisy, while obstructed life leads to harshness. The sage, however, differs—allowing the people to dwell freely in the "expansive dwelling," fully developing their vast and upright nature (the nature of vastness). Zhuangzi uses the gardens of Xiwei, the parks of the Yellow Emperor, the palaces of Yao and Shun, and the houses of Tang and Wu as metaphors for how living spaces gradually shrink across generations. This does not mean the sages themselves differ in superiority but reflects the changes of the times.

Master Heshang adds: Only those who do not despise the spirit can cleanse the filth from their hearts (washing away mental defilement) and maintain serenity free from desire (tranquil and desireless). Only then can the spirit dwell peacefully without weariness.

Gu Huan concludes: If humans do not reject life, life will not reject humans; if humans do not turn away from the Dao, the Dao will not turn away from humans. This is a relationship of mutual fulfillment.

This passage expounds the wisdom of how practitioners of the Dao can align with the Way (Dao) and preserve life. Its core teaching states: Only by not abandoning anyone can we mutually preserve one another; only when humans harmonize with the Dao can life endure long.

The Western Ascension Scripture (Xisheng Jing) says that divine spirits (Shenming) constantly cherish humanity, yet people often neglect them. If one does not despise their own spirit (referring to innate Qi), then this spirit will permanently reside within the body without dissipating. Thus, those who attain the Dao (sages) possess self-awareness but refrain from self-display; they cherish their being yet do not consider themselves superior.

Heshang Gong (a renowned Han dynasty commentator) explains: Those who truly understand their own gains and losses do not outwardly display virtue (De), but instead conceal excellence within. They treasure their physical form to preserve essence (Jing) and Qi, never chasing worldly fame or superficial glamour.

Lü Jifu (a Song dynasty Daoist) adds: Sages maintain constancy with the Dao through inner awakening, never deliberately projecting external images. This awakening prevents people from being confined to narrow states of existence. By restraining desires to cherish life, and avoiding the depletion of vitality through lofty status, life can endure long without harm.

Liu Jinxi (a Tang dynasty Daoist) provides more detailed commentary: Nourishing one’s innate true nature (humanity’s original state) without allowing it to be tainted by desires constitutes genuine self-love. Maintaining humility and deference, prioritizing others before oneself—this is the mark of not considering oneself superior. With inner clarity and self-awareness, one refrains from flaunting talent, ensuring the mind remains expansive and unobscured by external things. Cherishing life with a benevolent heart, never belittling the external world due to status, allows life to remain whole and unharmed.

Gu Huan (a Southern Dynasties Daoist) concludes: Eliminating habits of ostentation and superiority naturally dispels external calamities; adopting an attitude of self-awareness and self-love ensures the inner Dao of life flourishes. This chapter observes that when rulers lose the transformative power of the Great Dao, the people forfeit their authentic nature. Only by not limiting life’s framework and not rejecting the root of existence can one avoid violating the awe of Heaven’s Dao. The sages’ principle of discernment is clear: relinquish vanity, choose true love, and grant the people vast space for life.

Chapter 73, "On Courageous Daring," further elaborates: Reckless boldness invites fatal disaster. Gu Huan explains that "courage" (Yong) means fearlessness, while "daring" (Gan) denotes stubborn forcefulness—such aggressive indulgence in Qi is truly a path to death. Cheng Xuanying (a Tang dynasty Daoist) states that rash advancement is called "courage," and arbitrary stubbornness is called "daring." Obsession with worldly affairs inevitably leads to ruin.

This scripture primarily examines the contrasting outcomes between the attitudes of "daring" and "not daring." Kumarajiva (Jiumoluoshi) explains that when the mind is tranquil and actions are upright, one attains the true Dao; whereas indulging in wicked thoughts invites misfortune. The phrase "those who are brave in daring will be killed" suggests that aggressive competitiveness brings calamity, while "those who are brave in not daring will live" indicates that maintaining a gentle and humble attitude leads to longevity.

Gu Huan argues that preserving an independent yet fearless mindset, refraining from forceful action, and yielding to the way of softness is the correct method for self-preservation. Wang Anshi (Shuwang) cites Zhuangzi, noting that sages act without coercion, thus avoiding conflict, whereas ordinary people provoke strife by insisting on unnecessary pursuits. Boldness in aggression ("brave in daring") invites fatal consequences, while restraint ("brave in not daring") safeguards life.

Lü Huiqing (Lü Jifu) observes that stubbornly pursuing external things exemplifies "brave in daring," representing the path to death, while embracing softness and flexibility constitutes "brave in not daring," the path to survival. These two attitudes—one seemingly advantageous but actually harmful, the other seemingly disadvantageous but ultimately beneficial—reveal the paradox of human behavior.

Both Heshanggong and Wang Bi agree that courage applied differently yields entirely distinct results. The will of heaven is inscrutable; what humans desire may be what heaven despises, and even sages cannot fully comprehend it. The Dao of heaven does not contend yet naturally prevails, as seen in the orderly progression of the seasons and the compliance of all things—this is "prevailing without contention." Emperor Xuanzong of Tang highlights how this principle uses heaven's humility to admonish humanity: heaven does not compete with the myriad things, yet the changing seasons command universal obedience—this is true victory.

In summary, this scripture contrasts the consequences of "daring" and "not daring," emphasizing that yielding without contention and aligning with nature embody the survival wisdom of the heavenly Dao. Aggressiveness appears beneficial but is perilous, while humility and retreat seem disadvantageous yet preserve life. The Dao operates silently, effortlessly guiding all things to compliance—a model for human conduct in achieving "prevailing without contention."

Wang Yuanze said: Does Heaven need to speak? The four seasons revolve naturally, and all things grow of their own accord. Good deeds bring blessings, evil deeds invite misfortune. The Dao's response to all affairs manifests in countless ways—not a single thing escapes its principles.

Liu Renhui explains: The Dao of Heaven is silent and thus called speechless, yet when stimulated, it invariably responds. Therefore it's said that good actions necessarily bring good rewards—they come without being summoned.

The Imperial Commentary further clarifies: If it were human commands, the issuer could summon their execution. But with the myriad things being so complex, only Heaven can govern their destinies—who could summon the Dao of Heaven? It simply operates ceaselessly, allowing Qi to circulate naturally.

Cai Zihuang observes: Though the Dao of Heaven appears simple and straightforward, it excels at planning and arrangement, distinguishing good from evil without the slightest error. Wang Yuanze adds: Because the Dao remains constant it appears straightforward, yet because it understands hardship it excels at planning.

Regarding the phrase "Heaven's net is vast—coarse-meshed yet nothing slips through," the Imperial Commentary explains: Human laws may have loopholes no matter how strict, whereas Heaven's net appears loosely woven yet leaves no gaps. Accumulated virtue brings blessings, accumulated evil brings misfortune—each according to its kind, thus nothing is missed. Ordinary people must fight to win, must speak to be answered, but the Dao needs no struggle to prevail, requires no words to respond—this is difficult for mortals to comprehend.

Cao Daochong points out: What nothing can escape is Heaven's net. Boundless in expanse yet seemingly sparse, its rewards and punishments never err by a hair. This chapter mainly discusses the difference between reckless courage and proper restraint—indeed, rash boldness is what Heaven despises, something even sages find difficult to practice as true courage. Later passages emphasize the Dao's humility, which people should emulate.

Chapter 74 addresses how people cease fearing death:

Gu Huan explains: "Why" means "for what reason." When virtue declines and punishments become severe, life becomes unworthy of attachment and death unworthy of fear. That people don't fear death stems precisely from harsh governance—if instead of cultivating virtue to let people live in peace, one uses severe punishments to intimidate, the people will transgress laws and remain unteachable. When rulers themselves indulge in extravagance and debauchery...

This scripture primarily addresses how rulers should govern their people. It points out that when the people's Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) are exhausted and their Shen (spirit) dissipates, they fall into perilous states, unable to control their desires. If rulers abandon moral principles, the people will lose their sense of reason and even transgress legal prohibitions.

Commentators have offered varying interpretations of this passage: Emperor Xuanzong of Tang believed that for those who engage in deceit, the Dao (the Way) has its own mechanisms of retribution—like a celestial net (tianwang) that naturally ensnares the wicked, just as the "executioner" (sishazhe), an office tasked with punishment, carries out its duties. Du Guangting elaborated further, explaining that the heavens record human virtue and vice through the Southern Palace (in Daoist cosmology, the bureau overseeing rewards for good deeds) and the Northern Palace (the bureau overseeing punishment for evil). Under the supervision of all celestial deities, good is rewarded and evil punished with unfailing precision.

The commentary attributed to Heshang Gong argues that if a ruler presumptuously takes it upon himself to enact heaven's punishments, it would be like an unskilled carpenter trying to replace a master craftsman in felling timber—not only futile but likely to injure himself. Lü Jifu synthesizes these views by concluding that sages should govern the world through the Dao.

The overarching emphasis is that rulers should prioritize moral transformation over punitive measures. The Dao has its own mechanisms of justice, and human interference often backfires. This reflects the Daoist political philosophy of "governing through Wuwei (non-action)," advocating alignment with natural laws and opposing excessive human intervention.

Laozi here expounds on the principle of celestial retribution. He states: There has always existed in the world a specialized force that administers punishment (the Executioner), and we should not overstep our bounds to usurp its role in meting out justice. What does "there is always the Executioner" mean? It refers to the celestial net of justice (Tianwang) which, though seemingly loose and wide, never lets any deserving offender slip through.

Heaven employs five forms of punishment (Wuxing) to chastise the guilty—this constitutes the true "Executioner." When punishments stem from personal biases rather than the impartial justice of the Dao, one is presumptuously executing heaven's will. This is like an unskilled person trying to chop wood in place of a master carpenter (Dajiang)—rare is the case where one doesn't injure one's own hand. Similarly, those who arrogate heaven's punitive authority inevitably bring harm upon themselves.

The core message of this chapter is: The common people inherently lack fixed fears and do not instinctively dread death. Rulers should first instruct them through moral principles rather than intimidating them with punishments. If people truly feared death, then punishing wrongdoers would deter all crime. Yet punishment should never be arbitrarily administered by individuals—it must follow the laws of the Dao. Those who presumptuously execute heaven's justice are like unskilled substitutes for master carpenters: none escape self-inflicted injury.