《道德真經取善集》Vol. 4

This passage primarily discusses the relationship between the Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue/Power), as well as the profound nature of the Dao. Li Lin of the Song Dynasty compiled commentaries from multiple scholars to elucidate Chapter 21 of the Daode Jing.

The initial explanation of "The appearance of great De follows solely the Dao" reveals that the greatest De (Kongde) manifests completely in accordance with the Dao's principles. The Emperor's commentary states that the transformations of Yin-Yang constitute the Dao, while the flourishing of all things through attaining the Dao represents De. Though the Dao itself has no concrete form and defies description, it becomes perceptible through De. Practitioners who cultivate virtue can ultimately return De to its original state of unity with the Dao.

Several scholars further elaborate: Supreme De has no fixed origin, forming entirely through alignment with the Dao. The outward manifestations of truly virtuous individuals cannot be precisely described—one can only perceive their indistinct conformity to the Dao. Their every action—seeing, hearing, speaking, and daily conduct—follows the Dao's principles completely.

The subsequent explanation of "The Dao as an entity is indistinct and elusive" describes the Dao's existence in a state of hazy ambiguity. The Emperor's commentary notes that while the Dao's essence is profoundly empty, its function miraculously manifests as concrete phenomena. Gu Huan observes that when we claim the Dao exists, it remains invisible and inaudible; yet when we say it doesn't exist, its subtle manifestations are undeniably present. Ma Juji explains "indistinct" (huang) as seemingly absent yet actually present, while "elusive" (hu) appears present yet almost absent. Wang Yuanze posits that the Dao contains Yin-Yang, and their subtle interplay creates this ambiguous state of presence and absence.

Finally, the lines "Elusive and indistinct, yet within it are images; Indistinct and elusive, yet within it are things" reveal that within this ambiguous state, forms and substances truly exist. The Emperor's commentary clarifies that what manifests are called images, while what takes form are called things. Just as emptiness generates thunder, wind, and clouds, or earth transforms into water and fire, these marvelous transformations demonstrate the Dao's profundity. Within the deepest obscurity lies the Dao's essential essence.

Through multiple scholars' interpretations, this passage progressively unveils the Dao's dialectical nature—both empty and substantial, abstract yet concrete—while illuminating the interdependent relationship between De and the Dao.

This passage elucidates the profound essence of the Dao as discussed in the Daode Jing. The term "yaoming" (杳冥) refers to the deepest realm of darkness, where at the source of ultimate Yin lies the primordial generative force of heaven and earth ("Tianyi," the celestial unity). From this emerges the authentic and pure essence of Qi (vital energy), which is supremely genuine ("shenzhen") and contains immutable principles ("xin," trustworthiness).

Wang Anshi (Wang Yuanze) explains that Jing-Qi (essence-energy) constitutes the origin of all things and should inherently be pure and unadulterated. The emphasis on its supreme genuineness ("shenzhen") arises because worldly phenomena often lose their authenticity by defying natural laws, becoming mired in artificial constructs. The Jing-Qi within this profound darkness, though giving rise to myriad forms, adheres to each being's innate destiny and natural patterns ("xingming dushu faxiang"). These patterns are discernible and orderly ("you yi ze"), enabling foresight without error—this is the meaning of "xin" (trust). Zhuangzi's statement "before form exists, there is differentiation" refers to this pre-formative, innate determination.

Jing-Qi embodies the utmost authenticity of the heavenly Dao ("Tiande zhi zhi")—where there is genuineness, there is no falsehood; where there is trust, there is no error. From antiquity to the present, the name of the Dao has never vanished ("qi ming bu qu"). The Heshang Gong commentary notes that the Dao eternally exists and never fades. Wang Anshi adds that both the constant Dao and its constant name remain unchanging. Ma Juqing observes that while the names of all things shift with time (what was deemed right yesterday may be wrong today), only the Dao transcends temporal changes and stands alone.

"To observe the origins of all things" ("yi yue zhong fu") means to examine the roots of creation. Wang Bi explains that "zhong fu" denotes the beginnings of all phenomena, as the Dao, in its nameless state, contemplates their genesis. "Yue" implies inspection, while "fu" signifies the primal source. Because the Dao is eternal, it can comprehensively perceive the fundamental origins of all things—similar to the usage of "yue" in the phrase "having observed many people."

The text poses a rhetorical question: How can I know the truth about the origins of all things? Su Shi (Su Ziyou) responds: Sages understand the essence of all phenomena because they embody the Dao without departing from it. The Zuanwei commentary elaborates: "Yue" conveys measuring and examining. The Dao, limpid and ever-present from ancient times, has an invisible form yet an enduring name. Those who attain the Dao ("zhiren," perfected beings) become immortal through unity with it, enabling them to gauge the origins of all things. They recognize that everything arises from the Dao and achieves its form through the Dao's operation. The patterns of birth, death, and transformation all stem from the Dao's mysterious, eternal nature, which harmonizes with change and nurtures all things through Wuwei (non-action). Observing the transformations of the world, nothing exists that does not originate from the Dao.

In summary: Though the great Dao possesses abundant De (virtue/power), its appearance seems dull ("shengde rongmao ruo yu"). Those who follow the Dao manifest their spiritual state through outward demeanor ("cong dao ze rongzhuang ke jian").

(Note: "Tianyi" refers to the undifferentiated primordial Qi before the separation of heaven and earth; "xingming dushu faxiang" denotes the innate laws and operational principles of all beings; "zhiren" is the Daoist honorific for those who have realized the Dao.)

This passage elucidates the Daoist wisdom of "the soft and weak overcoming the hard and strong." The core teaching reveals how apparent concessions preserve one's being, and seeming losses ultimately bring benefit.

The Dao is elusive and intangible, yet those who embody it endure. Through this understanding, one perceives the patterns underlying all transformations.

"To yield is to be preserved whole" means that by not flaunting one's cleverness, one safeguards their being. Just as pliant tree branches bend without breaking in wind and snow, humans who practice yielding accommodation preserve their vital integrity. Zhuangzi observed that those with harmonious exteriors blend effortlessly with others.

"To bend is to become straight" indicates that releasing rigid opinions makes truth more evident. Temporary humiliations ultimately find resolution, like Lin Xiangru's strategic deference to Lian Po—seeming concession proving true wisdom. Active yielding constitutes voluntary "bending," while forced submission is passive "warping," yet both arrive at upright outcomes.

"The hollow becomes full" shows how low places naturally collect water, just as humility accumulates De (Virtue). Without self-promotion, one's merits shine more brightly.

"Worn-out becomes renewed" teaches that rejecting complacency sustains virtue. As winter's decay inevitably yields to spring's renewal, all exhaustion births fresh beginnings.

"Having little brings attainment" reveals the Dao's supreme simplicity—guarding the essential encompasses the myriad. Focused refinement yields greater harvest.

"Much brings confusion" demonstrates that chasing complexity obscures essentials. Counting stars with fingers brings endless bewilderment. Those truly understanding cosmic patterns embody pliancy, yielding, humility and renewal. Like water taking any form without losing its nature, they approach the state of Dao.

The most difficult stains to cleanse in this world are precisely those that appear fresh and new. Only those who comprehend the "One" (the fundamental principle of Daoism) can truly understand this truth. Thus it is said that seeking simplicity leads to attainment, yet ordinary people cannot achieve this because their minds are scattered and confused. Pursuing too much leads to disorientation, as Liezi observed: scholars often lose the essence of life precisely because they dabble in too many things.

Therefore, the sage holds fast to the principle of "One" as the standard for all under heaven. The "One" is the pure essence, the root of all things. The sage grasps the truth of the world by focusing on the fundamental, while ordinary people become bewildered by their greed for multiplicity. The sage preserves purity without dissipation, and in the end, all people under heaven abandon complexity and return to the root—this is why the sage becomes a model for the world.

Only by not clinging to personal views can one perceive with clarity. Just as Emperor Shun broadened his vision to observe the four directions, and King Cheng of Zhou maintained an open mind free from deception, both achieved this by not limiting themselves to a narrow perspective. Only by not boasting of oneself can virtue shine forth, as Lü Jifu remarked: aligning with the universally recognized standard of correctness without self-righteousness—such correctness is truly comprehensive.

Only by not self-promoting can one accomplish great deeds. The Book of Documents states, "If you do not boast, none under heaven can contend with your merits." Wang Anshi explained: by not flaunting oneself, good deeds will never be obscured. Only by not indulging in pride can one endure long, as the Book of Documents also says, "If you do not presume upon yourself, none under heaven can contend with your abilities." Lü Jifu added: allowing all things to fulfill their potential without self-reliance—this is why one can endure.

Precisely because he does not contend with others, no one under heaven can contend with him. The Daodejing says: while others rush ahead, he alone remains behind; while others flee from disgrace, he alone bears the world’s blame. Such a person forever abides in a position of non-contention—who, then, could possibly contend with him?

Su Zhe (Su Ziyou) remarked: When a person can forget the self, they will not contend with others, nor be self-righteous, self-displaying, self-aggrandizing, or self-satisfied—all these are manifestations of non-contention. Therefore, the Dao De Jing concludes with "non-contention." When the ancients spoke of "yielding to attain wholeness," could this be empty words?

Heshang Gong (Han Dynasty commentator) explained: In ancient times, those who understood yielding and compliance could preserve themselves—this was no idle saying. Those who truly achieve this naturally preserve themselves and return to the Dao.

Emperor Huizong of Song (Imperial Commentary) stated: The sage moves like water, interacting with all things without harming their integrity; responding to circumstances like an inked line, following heavenly principle without losing uprightness. Understanding that low places will eventually be filled, they bear no burden of arrogance; knowing that the worn-out will be renewed, they engage in no boastful displays. All this arises naturally from their innate nature, not through forced effort—it is by yielding that they achieve completeness. Thus, they not only preserve themselves but also fulfill their natural lifespan without even realizing it. Such a person is truly perfected in virtue—how could this be empty words?

Zhong Hui (Three Kingdoms strategist) said: Those who truly hold to the way of yielding will surely attain preservation.

The essence of this chapter lies in the key to nurturing life—forgetting the self. Only by forgetting the self can one yield to adapt to change without stubbornness; willingly bending to accommodate others without clinging to personal views. Knowing that emptiness will be filled, there is no impulse to boast; understanding that decay leads to renewal, there is no behavior of self-satisfaction. All this flows naturally from innate nature—through yielding, life and form are preserved. Hence, the principle of "yielding to attain wholeness" is consistently emphasized.

Chapter 23: "Rare Words Are Natural"

"Speaking little accords with the natural way."

Gu Huan (Southern Dynasties scholar) explained: "Rare" means few. If one conserves their Qi and speaks sparingly, their actions will align with nature.

The Compendium of Subtleties commentary states: Those who attain the Dao speak only when questioned and respond only to events, their stillness and movement perfectly timed—thus they harmonize with nature.

Lu Dian (Song Dynasty scholar) said: All things can neither be forced into being nor prevented from being—this is nature.

"A gale does not last all morning; a downpour does not last all day."

Wang Pang (Wang Yuanze, Song Dynasty scholar) explained: Wind and rain arise from the interaction of Yin and Yang Qi. Violent storms are the result of excessive interaction, and thus cannot endure.

A gale is a fierce wind; a downpour is a sudden rain. From dawn to midday is "a morning"; from dawn to dusk is "a day." Storms are expressions of violent Qi—not the norm. Thus, even the wind and rain of Heaven and Earth cannot persist for a full day—how much less can human words endure if they do not accord with nature?

The movement of heaven and earth follows its inherent patterns—not even the cosmos themselves remain unchanging forever, let alone human beings. Heaven and earth nurture all things, using wind to disperse vitality so all beings may evolve naturally, and rain to nourish growth so life may flourish freely. Precisely because there is no deliberate interference, all things can thrive spontaneously between heaven and earth, and thus endure. But when wind and rain fall out of balance, when Yin and Yang become disordered, calamity befalls all creatures—proof that forceful striving cannot last.

Wind and rain are the natural product of the interaction between Yin and Yang energies (Qi), yet excessive interaction brings disaster. Even the vastness of heaven and earth cannot defy the laws of nature; how much less can humans, so insignificant within this cosmos, hasten their own demise through reckless intervention, empty words, and willful action.

Those who truly follow the Dao (the Way) emulate its nature: they act with Wuwei (non-action), avoiding forced interference, and teach through silence. Like the Dao itself, they are formless and traceless yet undeniably present, allowing all things to remain in their authentic state—thus achieving unity with the Dao. This is the state of "being one with the Way."

Those who pursue De (Virtue/Power) align with natural virtue by minimizing artificial effort; those who turn from the Dao—obsessed with striving, fame, and profit—lose their true nature through forcefulness. It echoes the principle of resonance: what you send out returns to you. Those in harmony with the Dao receive its nourishment; those in harmony with De are graced by its enrichment, while those who abandon the Dao ultimately bear the consequences of their disconnection.

If faith in the Dao is unsteady, the Dao will not respond. Just as two people who break trust sever their bond, only those truly united with the Dao may receive its blessings.

This passage elucidates two key principles of Daoist wisdom:

The first concerns the importance of "speaking sparingly" (xiyan). The true Dao (the Way of cosmic order) operates naturally without the need for excessive words. Those who chatter incessantly externally invite trouble and internally deplete their vital Qi (energy). To maintain lasting health, one must learn to speak less and preserve inner Shen (spirit). The scripture illustrates this with the phrase: "Those who align with the Dao will be embraced by it, while those who deviate will be abandoned by it" - meaning those who follow the Dao's principles will receive its support, while those who violate them will meet with failure.

Chapter 24 employs four metaphors to illuminate proper conduct: standing on tiptoe leads to instability, and overstriding results in shortened progress. These warn against impetuousness and advocate following natural rhythms. It then enumerates four mistaken attitudes: self-display actually obscures clarity; self-righteousness prevents true recognition; self-praise negates merit; and arrogance undermines longevity. Such behaviors are likened to leftover food and bodily tumors - equally superfluous.

Ultimately, the true Dao embodies selflessness, free from boasting or contention. Self-important posturing and self-promotion are unnatural burdens on spiritual cultivation. Just as force-feeding after satiety causes illness and bodily growths become encumbrances, these behaviors weigh down the path of cultivation.

The Daode Zhenjing Qushan Ji primarily elucidates the characteristics of the Dao (the Way) and the proper attitude for cultivators.

Regarding the cultivator's attitude: If one excessively indulges their innate nature, it will provoke aversion among people, much like how the heavens suffer deficits and the earth undergoes anomalies. Thus, those who truly attain the Dao do not act this way. This chapter conveys that if cultivators rush for results and fail to follow the natural order, they will ultimately fail to genuinely attain the Dao. Behaviors of self-display are contrary to the norm—to cultivators, they are like leftover food or superfluous actions, which is why those who embody the Dao refrain from them.

Concerning the nature of the Dao: There exists an undifferentiated unity (referring to the Dao) that predates the formation of heaven and earth. It encompasses the three elements of Qi (vital energy), form, and substance, yet remains undivided—this is called Hunlun (the undifferentiated chaos of the cosmos). Even heaven and earth rely on it to come into being. Though it exists, it is not an ordinary form of existence, hence it is referred to as a "thing."

This Dao is silent (jixi) and formless (liaoxi). It is singular (duli) and unchanging (bugai), pervading everywhere in ceaseless motion (zhouxing er budai). As the Yijing states, it is in constant transformation, circulating through the six directions of heaven and earth.

All things depend on it to grow—it can be called the mother (tianxia mu) of all under heaven. We do not know its name and can only reluctantly name it the Dao.

Notes:

1. Hunlun refers to the undifferentiated, chaotic state of the cosmos.

2. Zhouliu liuxu ("circulating through the six directions") originates from the Yijing, denoting its pervasive flow through the four directions of heaven and earth.

3. Tingdu means to nurture or foster.

4. Hanling refers to sentient beings endowed with spiritual nature.

All things originate from the Dao (the cosmic source and principle), hence we use the character "Dao" to name it. Forced to give it a designation, we call it "Great" (describing its all-encompassing nature).

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang explained: I observe there exists a generative force that itself has no name, so we use "Dao" to express its virtue of giving birth to all things, and "Great" to describe its capacity to contain everything.

Lü JiFu held: This Dao—when employed, it fills the entire cosmos; when unused, no trace of it can be found. Even the term "Great" is insufficient to fully describe it, yet we reluctantly use this designation.

"Great" manifests as "Passing" (ceaseless movement). The Imperial Commentary explains this as perpetual motion without pause. Gu Huan said "Passing" means proceeding—while all things have limits in their vastness, the Dao's movement knows no boundaries. Wang Anshi added: So vast that nothing escapes its scope beyond heaven and earth, so minute that not even the tip of a hair lies beyond its influence—thus we call it "Passing."

"Passing" manifests as "Far" (limitless depth). The Imperial Commentary explains this as infinite responsiveness. Sun Deng said all things in motion have endpoints, but the Dao's movement grows ever more profound when pursued, with no discernible source.

"Far" ultimately returns to "Reversal" (returning to the origin). Wang Anshi explained: Reaching the extreme of distance means returning to the source—though filling the cosmos makes it seem distant, it's actually near at hand yet difficult to perceive. So far it extends beyond the infinite without exhaustion, so near it resides within ourselves yet remains unseen.

Thus we say: The Dao is great, Heaven is great, Earth is great, and the sovereign is also great. The Imperial Commentary explains: The Dao carries heaven and earth, Heaven covers all things, Earth bears all creatures, and the sovereign stands between heaven and earth as their equal. The Dao embraces all existence, while heaven and earth represent the greatest physical forms. The sovereign's virtue matches heaven and earth, connecting the Three Powers (heaven, earth and humanity)—thus equally deserving the designation "great."

There are four great existences in the cosmos, and the sovereign is one of them. The Imperial Commentary clarifies: Only below the Dao do physical forms emerge, hence "within the realm." The sovereign can be still like a sage or act as a true king, embodying the way of the Three Powers—thus sharing the Dao's substance and heaven-and-earth's function, equally worthy to be called "great."

This passage discusses the highest realm of human conduct (the way of being in the world). The Dao (the fundamental principle of the universe) is inherently boundless, yet the mention of "within the realm" (a specific domain) implies that while it may appear limited, the Dao in truth encompasses all things without distinction between inner and outer.

The explanation of "Humans emulate Earth, Earth emulates Heaven, Heaven emulates the Dao, the Dao emulates nature" follows:

The ruler (specifically referenced here) models the Earth's stillness and stability, thus governing effortlessly to bring peace to the world. Earth models Heaven's quality of Wuwei (non-action), thereby nurturing all things without deliberate effort. Heaven models the Dao's spontaneous nature, allowing all beings to evolve without conscious creation. The Dao itself is self-existent, eternally present before the formation of Heaven and Earth, requiring no model to follow. The phrase "the Dao emulates nature" means precisely that the Dao is spontaneously so.

This chapter speaks of the undifferentiated Great Dao (cosmic origin) that predates Heaven and Earth. Its essence stands transcendent and independent, while its function permeates the entire cosmos. Though Heaven and Earth are so lofty and rulers so revered, all must ultimately follow the Dao. The Dao is self-sufficient, needing no cause, being naturally so from the beginning.

Chapter 26 explains the principle that "the heavy is the root of the light":

Substance is the foundation of insubstantiality, and stillness masters restlessness. As Heshang Gong comments: A ruler without dignity loses authority, and self-cultivation without gravity dissipates the Shen (spirit). Flowers and leaves, being light, wither easily, while substantial roots endure. A ruler without stillness forfeits majesty, and self-cultivation without calm endangers one's being. The dragon, through stillness, achieves transformation; the tiger, through restlessness, meets early demise.

Lü Jifu adds: Light things are first affected while substantial things act later—yet what acts is precisely what was affected, hence substance is light's foundation. Stillness controls external things while restlessness is controlled by them—restlessness is always governed by stillness, making stillness the master of movement.

Liu Zhongping concludes: Light emerges from substance, thus substance is light's root; restlessness originates in stillness, thus stillness is restlessness' master.

This scripture primarily discusses how both gentlemen in daily life and rulers in governance should take steadiness and tranquility as fundamental principles.

A virtuous person may spend the entire day traveling, yet never strays far from the supply cart (a metaphor for essential provisions). Though surrounded by bustling scenes, they remain as detached and at ease as a swallow in its nest. The Emperor's commentary explains: The bustling world is external, while inner peace belongs to oneself. Only when one is internally settled can they truly enjoy external pleasures. Action may appear swift to achieve speed, but it must not lack the support of provisions; observation may seem keen to gain glory, but it must not lack a place of repose. With provisions secured, one will not falter midway and can continue the journey; with a place of peace and detachment, one can truly observe. Why? Because steadiness is the foundation of swiftness, and tranquility is the master of agitation.

Yet why do rulers who command ten thousand chariots (referring to sovereigns of great nations) treat the world with such recklessness? Lü Jifu explains: If even ordinary people exercise such caution in daily affairs, how much more should rulers, who bear the weight of governance, maintain steadiness and tranquility? True action should only be taken when unavoidable—this is what it means to be steady; preserving wuwei (non-action) is tranquility. If one acts impulsively when action is unnecessary, that is treating the world lightly, and without steadiness, one becomes restless.

Lu Dian elaborates further: The world is the ruler’s "supply cart" and "nest"—it is the inseparable foundation. Recklessness leads to the loss of ministers, and agitation leads to the forfeiture of the throne. The Emperor’s commentary states: Without steadiness, there is no dignity, hence the loss of ministers; demanding compliance without first setting an example disrupts proper order, hence the loss of the throne. Lu Dian adds: Steadiness is the ruler’s virtue, and tranquility is the minister’s principle. Song Lingxian interprets this from a cultivation perspective: A restless mind damages the profound shen (spirit), which Daoism regards as the master of the body.

This chapter admonishes rulers to take steadiness and tranquility as the foundation of governance. The world is the very basis that rulers must treat with gravity—how can it be handled lightly? Cultivators of the Dao must likewise take steadiness and tranquility as their root: valuing the body without being burdened by external things, and preserving inner stillness without allowing external disturbances to agitate the spirit. Only when the form is whole and the spirit is settled can one attain the complete state of cultivation.

The following "Chapter on Skillful Action" states: Those who walk skillfully leave no wheel ruts. Shuwang explains: The skillful walker does not need to rush yet arrives swiftly, does not need to move yet reaches the destination—hence leaving no traces. Lu Yu says: Acting in accordance with the Dao, their conduct blends seamlessly with all things, leaving no distinctive marks. Zhong Hui asserts: Those who truly embody the Dao do not deliberately seek to display merit or fame.

Su Zhe (style name Ziyou) said: Acting in accordance with natural laws leaves no traces. Just as a cart leaves wheel ruts and footsteps leave prints, the one truly skilled in walking the Dao focuses on self-cultivation without leaving his gate. His actions arise from the state of "non-action" (Wuwei), thus leaving no traces. This embodies the principle of "arriving without traveling" (achieving goals without deliberate action).

Regarding "flawless speech bears no reproach," Du Guangting explained: The one truly skilled in speech forgets words upon grasping their true meaning, thus avoiding faults and blame. Lü Huiqing (style name Jifu) added: The truly wise speak sparingly, while the talkative often lack real understanding. One who comprehends the essence of speech speaks from the state of "non-speaking," thereby achieving verbal perfection.

"Perfect calculation needs no counting rods," as the Imperial Commentary explains: Understanding fundamental principles allows mastery of all things—how much more those transcending numbers? Thus without counting rods, one perceives the transformations of all things as clearly as counting one-two.

On "perfect closure needs no latch yet cannot be opened," Wang Anshi (posthumously titled Prince of Shu) said: The truly skilled at closing makes all things find no entrance, thus requiring no latch nor allowing opening. Sima Guang (posthumously titled Duke Wen) used governance as metaphor: Securing a state relies not on mountain defenses. The body's nine orifices are spirit's gateways—the skilled closer guards internal spirit without leakage; though lacking physical latches, who could open them?

"Perfect binding needs no cords yet cannot be undone," Gu Huan explained: Bonds of Daoist principle, though cordless, hold firm; material restraints, though pledged, prove weak. Military coercion disperses armies, while moral cohesion steadies commoners. Sima Guang again paralleled governance: Uniting people requires no territorial borders. Du Guangting added: True practitioners forget myriad thoughts, unifying stillness with Dao—external influences cannot intrude, false views cannot tempt. This "perfect binding" none can loosen.

Therefore sages always skillfully save people, leaving none abandoned. Cai Zihuang said: Benefiting all beings constitutes skill, universal aid constitutes salvation. Saving beings everywhere, subtly applying skillful means so all equally benefit, ultimately returning to the true path—like Emperor Shun teaching the obstinate without rejection, or Confucius (posthumously titled Propagating Sage) exhausting his knowledge to enlighten the simple.

Sages always skillfully utilize all things, leaving nothing wasted.

This scripture explores the relationship between "goodness" and the Dao (the Way), and how sages (those who have realized the Dao) save the world through embodying its principles.

The original text suggests that true goodness is an extension of the Dao. When one is completely merged with the Dao, even the concept of "goodness" becomes unnecessary. The sage, having comprehended the great Dao, assists all under heaven through five virtuous acts, ensuring that all things fulfill their natural roles. The sage cherishes all beings and helps them realize their innate nature—not through deliberate effort, but by following the natural order.

When the world loses the Dao, people stray from their tranquil nature and fall into distress. Only the sage can remedy this. All things follow their inherent patterns, yet these are often violated or constrained. With compassion, the sage guides all things back to their essence: restoring obstructed principles, removing hindrances to their nature, and preserving life where it has been severed. This is the state of "inheriting the light" (Ximing), where wisdom is subtly transmitted.

The text also discusses the relationship between the virtuous and the non-virtuous: the virtuous serve as teachers for the non-virtuous, while the non-virtuous provide the contrast that makes virtue evident. Yet the sage does not deliberately instruct nor rely on such comparisons, instead embodying a natural state where "the world forgets the self."

Finally, the passage recounts the story of Liezi (a prominent Daoist figure) studying under Lao Shangshi and befriending Bo Gaozi, cultivating for nine years until attaining the state of a "wind-immortal" (lightness enabling flight). This illustrates that Daoist cultivation requires long-term dedication.

This passage discusses the relationship between Dao practitioners and their teachers or companions, as well as the state of enlightenment. It conveys that an advanced practitioner may reach a stage where they no longer consciously perceive their teacher's guidance or others' assistance, yet both internal and external cultivation continue to progress—this represents the realm of not deliberately venerating teachers. Just as Confucius, after meeting the Daoist hermit Taigong Ren, voluntarily distanced himself from former disciples and friends, demonstrating non-attachment to external connections.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang's commentary explains that the profundity of the Dao (the Way) lies in neither deliberately pursuing virtuous deeds nor flaunting wisdom. The "Seven Sages" mentioned (likely referring to seven ancient sages) all experienced periods of confusion, as there exists no fixed path—a principle that resonates with this teaching.

Li Tian, a Tang dynasty Daoist, remarks that this chapter describes how the sage's practice remains profoundly concealed, subtly imperceptible, leaving no visible traces. Though "constant goodness" (chang shan) is often discussed, the true marvel lies in simultaneously transcending the distinction between good and evil. Thus, the sage employs teachings beyond words and methods immeasurable by conventional techniques. Therefore, the teacher-disciple relationship merely serves as a gradual path of cultivation—true awakening requires severing attachment to external teachers and companions to enter the gate of sudden enlightenment, merging with the transmitted radiance that delivers all beings.

The passage emphasizes transcending fixation on formal teacher-disciple relationships through the practice of "simultaneous forgetting" (jian wang)—the dissolution of dualistic concepts—to attain the natural state of wuwei (non-action).