《道德真經取善集》Vol. 9

This passage discusses Chapter 54 of the Daode Jing, focusing on how to attain enduring states through "skillful establishing" and "skillful embracing."

Those who are adept at establishing cannot have what they establish uprooted. Here "establishing centrality" refers to grounding oneself in the Middle Way that connects heaven and earth. The virtuous gentleman cultivates body and mind through Dao and De (Virtue), without ostentatiously displaying merit—like deeply rooted trees that cannot be easily pulled up. Those who establish merit for fame will ultimately be shaken by worldly impermanence. As the Huainanzi states: metal can be melted by fire, fire extinguished by water, water blocked by earth, and wood cut by axes—only what is established in the state of "non-establishment" remains unshakable.

Those who are adept at embracing cannot have what they embrace slip away. This refers to practitioners maintaining their original Qi (vital energy) and holding fast to the pure Dao (the One), keeping their Shen (spirit) whole and undispersed. As Wang Anshi remarked, by steadfastly adhering to the One without deviation, nothing can be lost.

Those who achieve this will have descendants continuing their ancestral rites without cease. Their virtue benefits not only their own generation but future ones as well. Just as the Zhou dynasty's prosperity originated with its founder Houji and flourished under Kings Wen and Wu—though dynasties changed, sacrifices to Houji and King Wen never ceased.

Cultivating oneself with Dao and De yields genuine virtue; applying them to family life creates abundant virtue. Du Bi explains that self-cultivation at the personal level influences broader spheres—establishing oneself in Dao ensures stability. Heshang Gong notes that Dao-practicing families manifest parental kindness, filial piety, fraternal respect, and marital fidelity. Wang Bi adds that influencing others begins with oneself: self-cultivation produces authentic virtue, family cultivation generates surplus virtue, and persistent practice increasingly magnifies merit.

The passage emphasizes establishing practice on the foundation of "non-establishment"—avoiding forced external displays to achieve true endurance. By guarding fundamental principles and progressing from self to family to society, one's virtuous achievements become both genuine and lasting.

This passage discusses the progressive effects of Daoist cultivation at different scales of practice, from the individual to the universal realm. As one's practice expands, the manifestation of De (Virtue/Power) grows accordingly:

When cultivating oneself, De becomes genuine and pure (this is using the Dao's truth for self-cultivation); extending to the family, De becomes abundant; expanding to the community, De endures through generations; applying it to governance, De becomes rich and full; when spread throughout the world, De universally pervades. The broader the scope of cultivation, the more far-reaching De's influence becomes—the key lies in maintaining the root within oneself, while external expansion follows naturally.

The method of observation begins with the self: By examining oneself, one understands others; observing one household reveals the nature of all households; comprehending one community illuminates other communities; studying one state provides insight into all states; perceiving the patterns of the world enables governance of the world. Like the ancient sages: When using self-cultivation principles to align body and mind with the Dao, De naturally becomes pure; applying family governance principles creates domestic harmony as De's abundance; observing neighbors through community principles builds enduring trust among friends; examining the people through state governance brings prosperous living as De's fullness; contemplating the world through universal principles returns all to simplicity as De's pervasive state.

Laozi ultimately reveals that his understanding of the world's cycles of prosperity and decline comes precisely from this method of observation—moving from near to far, extending from self to others. As Heshang Gong's commentary explains: Through these five levels of practice, one discerns how following the Dao brings flourishing while departing from it leads to decline. Wang Bi emphasizes that this exemplifies the "understanding the great through the small" cognitive approach mentioned earlier.

The one who truly understands self-observation need not seek answers externally. This is what the ancients called "understanding the principles of the world without stepping beyond one's door." Wang Yuanze explains that sages hold fast to the same fundamental principle, free from distracting thoughts, thus their actions and understanding all originate from this great Dao.

This chapter begins by discussing how skillfully establishing and maintaining virtue (De) ultimately leads to comprehending the world's workings, because the foundation of all-understanding lies in self-cultivation. Those adept at cultivating themselves can extend this practice to governing the world—these are the ones who understand the root of statecraft.

Chapter 55 describes how those with profound inner virtue resemble pure newborn infants. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang annotates that those with supreme cultivation of Dao and De behave with the artless innocence of infants. Lü Jifu explains that humans are born with the purest virtue, which becomes diluted as worldly influences multiply desires within. Practitioners must reduce desires and cultivate their original nature to return virtue to its primal purity.

The term "embracing virtue" (hande) refers to holding virtue within one's heart, while "red infant" (chizi) symbolizes the pure, unadulterated nature of newborns. Those with deep virtue not only resemble infants outwardly but maintain that same inner purity.

Such individuals remain unharmed by venomous insects, untouched by fierce beasts, and unscathed by birds of prey. Zhang Junxiang explains: poisonous creatures like wasps, scorpions and snakes harm with their venom; fierce beasts like tigers and rhinos attack with their feet; predatory birds like eagles and owls injure with sharp claws. Infants harbor no intention to harm, thus these creatures don't harm them. Here, venomous insects represent anger, fierce beasts symbolize ignorance, and birds of prey signify greed. Infants lack these three poisonous thoughts, thus remaining unharmed. Those with profound virtue cultivate compassion and forbearance over time—their hearts generate no anger (thus insects don't sting); they delight in generosity, having eradicated greed (thus birds don't claw); they maintain constant wisdom, forever free from delusion (thus beasts don't attack).

Infants remain unharmed by external forces because they are naturally endowed with the purest Chonghe Qi (harmonized life energy of Yin-Yang) from heaven and earth, harboring no intention to harm others. When a person can maintain this state of pristine primordial Qi as protective energy, becoming attuned with the transformations of all things and achieving harmony with heaven and earth, what could possibly harm them? Zhuangzi said: When one dwells in the world with the emptiness of a valley, nothing can harm them.

Though infants have soft bones and tender muscles, they can clench their fists tightly. Heshanggong (a Han dynasty Daoist scholar) explains this occurs because infants maintain focused Shen (spirit) and undistracted minds. Their thoughts remain simple—their hands don't grasp at external objects, yet naturally achieve firm grip.

Infants know nothing of sexual union between men and women, yet experience natural erection—this demonstrates the supreme abundance of Jing (vital essence). The Imperial Commentary (Song dynasty official annotation) notes: Those with complete De (virtue/power) naturally possess sound physical form—hence soft tendons and bones can form fists; those with sound form naturally possess abundant Shen—hence erections occur despite no knowledge of intercourse. This state of abundant Jing enables one to attain mystical realms. Zhuangzi said: The sage treasures the nurturing of Jing above all.

Lin Lingsu (a Song dynasty Daoist) explains: "Jun" refers to a boy's genitalia, "zuo" means erection. Though infants don't understand Yin-Yang intercourse, their natural erection occurs because their Jing remains undispersed. Those with profound De, while understanding the emptiness of all things, don't thereby cease life's activities—they respond to all things without selfish intention, their every action aligning with De and the timing of heaven.

Wang Yuanze (Song dynasty scholar) adds: An infant's erection doesn't stem from external desire, but follows the natural movement of primordial Qi within, untainted by subjective will. When people become driven by external desires with indulgent hearts, their Jing disperses and they die prematurely. This represents humanity's greatest calamity and the practitioner's most crucial vigilance.

An infant may cry all day without becoming hoarse—this demonstrates supreme harmony of primordial Qi. The Imperial Commentary explains: Undivided focus is called "Jing"—when essence is abundant, De becomes complete and Shen remains unblemished; the blending of Yin-Yang energies is called "harmony"—when harmony is abundant, primordial Qi flourishes and the voice doesn't fail. At birth, our Jing comes from innate origins as the source of wisdom; our harmony derives from balanced Five Phases as life's foundation. At its ultimate, one may commune with the divine and return to the Dao. How pitiful are those who lose their childlike heart—their Jing shaken and unanchored, their primordial Qi agitated and impure, their body and mind enslaved by external things.

(Note: "Sha" refers to crying until voice fails. An infant cries all day without voice change because of mental serenity and harmonious Qi. Should an infant develop desires...)

This passage elucidates the state of "harmony" (he) in Daoist cultivation and its connection to nurturing life.

When the heart harbors worry or anger, one's Qi becomes violent and disharmonious. Those with profound De (Virtue) can expound mystical principles without exhaustion and transmit the true teachings of the Dao without depletion—all because they maintain a mind of serene emptiness and balanced harmony.

Understanding the state of "harmony" leads to eternal constancy. Wang Anshi explains: Applying the principle of "harmony" maintains perpetual stability. When one comprehends the wondrous function of gentle Qi, they gain mastery over their own life and achieve constancy. At the pinnacle of Dao cultivation, one returns to the origin of life—this return is eternity; when De reaches its utmost depth, one understands the principle of "harmony," and this understanding likewise constitutes eternity. Though "Dao" and "De" differ, they become one when both attain this eternal state.

The immortal Songling said: "Harmony" is the non-dual Middle Way. The true Dao is formless and unshaken by life or death—thus it is called eternal. Comprehending this eternal principle brings ever-increasing clarity of wisdom. Wang Anshi adds: Without wisdom, one cannot recognize eternity.

Excessive pursuit of longevity ironically invites misfortune. Wang Anshi observes that life cannot be forcibly prolonged—yet people persistently seek to augment it, which instead brings ominous consequences. Sun Deng warned that overzealous life-nurturing invites calamity. Once a human form takes shape, its innate lifespan is determined, and its physiological functions are inherently complete. Simply nurturing it naturally suffices. Forcible additions become burdens—not only useless but harmful, constituting an ominous sign.

Forcing Qi through deliberate mental control is called "straining." Authentic cultivation requires the body to unite with the mind, and the mind to unite with Qi—only then can Qi remain peaceful and non-violent. Conversely, when the mind forcibly drives Qi, Qi cannot settle internally and becomes turbulent. This "straining" represents opposition to external things rather than self-transcendence. Wang Anshi remarks: Qi should naturally focus gently—when coerced by mental effort, it loses inner concentration. This is not the strength of gentle perseverance, but the aggression of brute force.

Wang Yuanze further explains: Consciously using willpower to drive Qi creates reciprocal interference between mind and Qi, disrupting natural harmony and depleting primordial vitality. Human innate endowments cannot be increased or decreased—thus both forcibly prolonging life and exhausting primordial Qi violate cosmic principles. Like Mencius' parable of "pulling up seedlings to hasten growth," it becomes absurd.

This passage discusses the Daoist cultivation concepts of "life enhancement" (yisheng) and "forced qi manipulation" (shiqi), emphasizing the importance of maintaining a childlike mind.

Laozi warns against excessive pursuit of artificially prolonging life (yisheng) or forcibly circulating qi (shiqi). True nourishment of life lies in preserving one's natural, pristine primordial qi rather than forcing it through external means. Ordinary people fail to maintain the desireless state of an infant, indulging endless cravings that deplete their genuine essence (jing) and vital energy (qi). Some resort to medicines or minor techniques hoping to augment their qi, only to invite illness instead.

Deliberate visualization or forced qi circulation, intended to strengthen the body, often results in spiritual exhaustion and qi dissipation. All things that reach their peak must decline—this contradicts the natural Dao. The true Dao existed before heaven and earth and never declines through over-maturity. Those who don't understand the eternal principle of Dao, blindly pursuing "life enhancement and qi manipulation," will age and perish like ordinary beings.

Maintaining an infant's pure, uncontrived state reflects profound embodiment of De (Virtue). An infant neither intends to harm nor can be harmed, thus preserving complete essence without dissipation and harmonious qi without violence. Understanding this constitutes true knowledge of the eternal Dao. Conversely, obsession with "life enhancement and qi manipulation" forfeits this childlike mind, leading to the inevitable cycle of growth and decline.

The subsequent mention of "those who know don't speak" refers to the ineffability of profound Daoist principles. Heshang Gong notes that true wisdom values practice over empty discourse; Cheng Xuanying observes that enlightened beings comprehend subtle truths beyond verbal expression; Gu Huan suggests that understanding Dao makes one forget words, while clinging to language loses the essence. As Zhuangzi states, "The Dao cannot be questioned, and even if questioned, cannot be answered." The true Dao transcends verbal transmission—those who debate it often cling to arguments rather than heart-mind realization, ultimately losing the Dao while retaining only empty talk.

Mencius did not engage in debates out of personal preference, but rather sought to awaken others through rectifying his demeanor. Zhuangzi's concept of "the Dao manifests where the gaze falls" and Yan Hui's four unanswered questions to Confucius (three met with silence, one with "I do not know") all demonstrate the ineffability of the supreme Dao. Just as a master musician cannot transmit skill through speech, nor a veteran wheelwright articulate his craft's secrets in words—if even such mundane expertise defies verbal transmission, how much more profound is the mystery of the Dao? Excessive speech only leads one further from the truth.

"Block the openings (sensory desires), shut the gates (channels of worldly temptation)"—the Imperial Commentary explains this as cleansing distracting thoughts to safeguard the spirit, storing wisdom in profound silence. The Compiled Subtleties observes that while this phrasing matches Chapter 52, the emphasis differs: earlier it advocated using stillness to curb desire, whereas here it highlights the Dao's wordless nature, hence the need to restrain sight, hearing, and speech. Since the Dao has no form, it cannot be seen with eyes nor conveyed through words. Those who attain it close these sensory passages, mastering inward vision, restrained hearing, and silent speech—thus "block the openings, shut the gates."

Lu Dian clarifies: "Openings" represent channels for sensory gratification, "gates" serve as portals to external engagement. Only by blocking these pleasure-seeking passages can one "blunt sharp edges, untangle knots" to ultimately achieve "harmonizing radiance (concealing brilliance), merging with dust (blending with the mundane)." Pei Chu'en elaborates: tempering brilliance to avoid glaring, mixing with worldly dust yet remaining untainted. True adepts thus conceal their sharpness, dissolve entanglements, obscure their light without ostentation, and harmonize with the world without contamination.

Su Zhe contends: though the Dao transcends verbal expression, it doesn't completely reject language. Those who comprehend may fail to articulate, while eloquent speakers may lack true understanding. Only by externally blocking sensory temptations while internally blunting edges, resolving conflicts, concealing brilliance, and blending with the mundane can one embody wordless communication in stillness, achieving unity with the Dao. Upon reaching "mysterious unity" (the state of merging with the Dao), one transcends worldly distinctions of intimacy/alienation, benefit/harm, and nobility/humility—thereby becoming revered by all under heaven.

The Imperial Commentary notes: ordinary people create divisions through love/hate (intimacy/alienation), establish hierarchies through profit motives (nobility/humility). The Dao-possessor rises above these dualities—neither deliberately intimate nor distant, neither coveting gain nor fearing loss, neither pursuing status nor self-abasing—thus becoming the world's most honored being.

This scripture primarily discusses how spiritual cultivators should transcend worldly distinctions of gain and loss, intimacy and estrangement, nobility and baseness, ultimately attaining unity with the Dao.

It first observes that people develop notions of advantage through mutual pretense and establish hierarchies of value through weighing choices. This discriminating mind cycles endlessly without resolution, fundamentally unworthy of being esteemed by all under heaven. Those who truly comprehend the Great Dao forget words (transcending conceptual distinctions), and those who forget words can eliminate cunning intentions, shed false sentiments, and rise above considerations of gain and loss, ultimately merging with the Dao in their intrinsic authenticity. This inner preciousness remains perfectly complete—so complete that one can even forget all things under heaven—making it the most valuable treasure in existence.

Lü Jifu explains that those who reach this state perceive all things as one body, without distinction between life and death. They neither show particular intimacy nor estrangement toward others, making them impervious to influence through personal ties. They neither chase profit nor avoid harm, rendering them immune to manipulation through advantage. They neither glorify prominence nor shame hardship, making them unassailable through judgments of nobility. Those who can be swayed by intimacy, advantage, or status place value in external things and consequently become diminished by them, while those who transcend such distinctions root their worth within, becoming invulnerable to external devaluation. Isn't it perfectly reasonable that such people are revered by all under heaven?

The text provides three examples: Lie Yukou living unrecognized in Zheng (transcending intimacy), Liezi refusing gifts from Ziyang (transcending advantage), and Zengzi dwelling contentedly in poverty in Wei (transcending status). This chapter emphasizes forgetting words to realize the Dao, with subsequent passages detailing methods of silent attainment. When one possesses true inner worth, external things cannot diminish them, enabling them to become the most honored under heaven.

The following chapter (fifty-seven) on "Governing the State" discusses principles of rulership. Governing with rectitude means aligning with the constant patterns of the Dao—steadfast and unchanging. The art of governance values constancy, as Mencius said, "When rulers uphold rectitude, the state finds peace." In warfare, employ extraordinary tactics—Gu Huan explains "extraordinary" as adaptive strategies that respond flexibly to crisis, where military arts don't reject deception. The Three Strategies mentions nine extraordinary methods and nine assault techniques for invincible combat—this constitutes the martial prowess of great generals in quelling chaos.

Liu Zhongping adds that human hearts are often complex and impure, while common sentiments flow uncontrollably. Rectitude differs: its essence lies in undivided purity, its function in steadfast stability. Undivided purity becomes the anchor for turbulent hearts.

Governing a state should be rooted in the correct path (正道), not relying on other means. Just as flowing water needs no deliberate obstruction yet cannot be left entirely unchecked, ruling a nation requires steadfast adherence to the proper way, avoiding deviant shortcuts.

The art of warfare operates on entirely different principles. War is an ominous affair, requiring command over shifting battlefields with countless troops. Victory demands adaptability—whatever overcomes the enemy should be employed without rigid adherence to convention. Thus military strategy emphasizes surprising tactics, fundamentally distinct from governance.

The truly enlightened ruler governs the world through Wuwei (non-action, 无为). "Correctness" represents the Dao's constant state, while "unconventionality" reflects its adaptability—yet Wuwei remains the Dao's true essence. Governance requires the correct path, warfare demands unorthodox strategies, but the Dao's truth tolerates no selfish interference; following nature's course brings universal peace.

Some may question: while correctness can govern a state and unorthodox methods win battles, only Wuwei truly attains the world. Were not Emperor Tang's exile of the tyrant Jie or King Wu's campaign against Zhou acts of deliberate action? In truth, these actions aligned with heavenly mandate and popular will—like removing a single despot, not creating unnecessary turmoil.

How do I know this is how the world should be governed? Observe these manifestations:

When a state's prohibitions multiply, the people grow poorer. If rulers cannot maintain serene Wuwei but govern through complex decrees, the people—fearing transgression—become paralyzed, preoccupied with circumventing restrictions until they dare not act, ultimately leading to societal decay. This marks the beginning of disorder.

When private weapons (or manipulative tactics) proliferate among the people, the state descends into chaos. Excessive popular empowerment weakens the nation. Where people possess instruments of power, cunning minds emerge; when superiors and inferiors suspect each other, the state falls into confusion.

When people excessively pursue extraordinary skills and decadent crafts, bizarre objects proliferate. Overly refined craftsmanship breeds frivolous pursuits; strange artifacts corrupt customs. Excessive cleverness begets deceit; widespread deceit fosters perverse affairs.

This passage discusses how rulers can achieve social harmony through "governing by non-action (Wuwei)." It cites interpretations from multiple ancient commentators to elucidate the principle from the Daode Jing that "the more laws and ordinances are multiplied, the more thieves and robbers there will be."

The more numerous and severe the laws become, the more thieves emerge. When rulers abandon the Dao of non-action and govern through harsh punishments, people find legal loopholes, breeding more cunning behavior. As Emperor Xuanzong of Tang observed, the more strictly laws are enforced, the more thieves proliferate.

Thus the sages say: When I refrain from forceful interference (Wuwei), the people transform themselves naturally; when I avoid unnecessary actions (Wushi), the people prosper of their own accord; when I maintain stillness (Haojing), the people rectify themselves spontaneously; when I remain free from desires (Wuyu), the people retain their natural simplicity.

The text employs the natural order of heaven and earth as a metaphor: Heaven remains clear through non-action, Earth stays peaceful through non-action—their harmonious non-action allows all things to flourish naturally. Sage-kings like Yao and Shun governed the realm simply by sitting upright in their palaces with folded sleeves, precisely because they followed the principle of non-action.

Master Heshang Gong explains that without the disturbances of forced labor and conscription, people can focus on production and naturally prosper. Wang Yuanze notes that when rulers maintain stillness, the people return to their original nature and become upright spontaneously. Emperor Xuanzong concludes that non-action brings tranquility, avoiding disturbances preserves peace, maintaining stillness safeguards innate nature, and being desireless maintains harmony—this is the essence of "governing by non-action."

The core message is this: Rulers should minimize interference to allow people's natural development, for only then can true social harmony be achieved.

This passage primarily discusses the principles of governance and the interdependence of misfortune and fortune. When rulers impose harsh and meticulous policies ("exacting governance"), the people become cunning and restless ("deficient"); conversely, with lenient and unobtrusive governance ("unassuming rule"), the people naturally return to simplicity and integrity ("genuine"). This echoes Laozi's concept of "governing through Wuwei (non-action)," where minimal interference allows the people to cultivate themselves naturally.

Regarding the relationship between fortune and misfortune, the text employs the famous dictum "misfortune leans on fortune, fortune hides misfortune" to illustrate their mutual dependence and transformation. Within misfortune may lie the seeds of fortune (as adversity prompts self-reflection and reform), while fortune may conceal impending disaster (as success breeds arrogance). Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (Tang Minghuang) explained that seemingly chaotic governance might foster a society of genuine simplicity (misfortune transforming into fortune), while ostensibly shrewd policies could lead to social decline (fortune turning into misfortune).

Heshang Gong (a Han dynasty Daoist scholar) further elaborated: when misfortune strikes, one should not fear but engage in self-examination to resolve it; when fortune arrives, one must avoid arrogance lest it invite disaster. Zhuangzi's admonition to "remain equanimous toward fortune and misfortune" emphasizes transcending such dualities, as their boundaries are ultimately elusive. Lü Jifu (a Song dynasty Daoist scholar) added that genuineness means not deliberately pursuing superficial splendor, while deficiency signifies losing one's original state of authenticity.

Viewed holistically, this passage uses contrasting approaches to governance to reveal the wisdom of "governing through non-action," while extending into the dialectical philosophy that misfortune and fortune generate each other and extremes reverse. It reminds practitioners to maintain the Middle Way, avoiding attachment to superficial gains and losses.

Heshang Gong explains that misfortune and fortune transform into each other—who can discern the ultimate principle governing their changes? Sun Deng further elaborates that "shu" (孰) means "who," and "ji" (极) refers to the endpoint. Misfortune and fortune are mutually causative and interdependent, without fixed forms—calamity may bring blessings, and good fortune may invite disaster. Who can grasp the finality of their transformations?

Wang Yuanze argues that the movement of heaven and earth never ceases, and what exists in the present is inherently valid. Those who seek to forcibly establish fixed standards fail to realize that "correctness" itself is not eternal—can this be considered wise? Yet those who claim "there are no fixed standards" are, in fact, taking "no standard" as their standard. The word "xie" (邪) carries a questioning tone, indicating that even "no standard" cannot be absolutely affirmed.

The proper way may become heresy, and good deeds may turn into misfortune—the people's confusion over this has persisted for a long time. Emperor Huizong of Song notes in his Imperial Commentary that within heaven and earth, there is nothing but the flow of Qi (vital energy). What is right today may have been wrong yesterday; conflict precedes harmony, and the miraculous and the decayed cycle endlessly. Thus, the mutual generation of the orthodox and the strange, the transformation of good and evil, are simply the natural workings of Qi. The world has existed for ages—minor delusions make people change direction, while major delusions make them alter their nature. When selfish tendencies prevail and people fail to understand the interdependence of fortune and misfortune, how can the common folk return to their true selves if rulers govern with harsh laws?

Lu Dian states that "qi wu zheng xie" (其无正邪) refers to the existence of both "having standards" and "the standard of standards itself." The true "zheng" (正, correctness) transcends the dichotomy of fortune and misfortune—it is the "correctness without standards." Only by reaching this state can one break free from the cycle of fortune and misfortune. If one remains at the level of fortune and misfortune, calamity and blessing will revolve like a wheel, forever bewildering people. Hence, it is said, "The proper reverts to the strange, the good reverts to the ominous"—the people's confusion has indeed lasted long.

Therefore, the sage (one who has attained the Dao) is upright yet does not harm others. Emperor Huizong explains that "fang" (方, square) represents the edges by which things are distinguished, yet the greatest squareness has no corners—it is still yet not rigid, leaving no trace of judgment. Gu Huan says that by rectifying one's own conduct, evil naturally withdraws; there is no need to forcibly impose one's standards upon others.

Pure yet not severe. "Lian" (廉) originally refers to disciplined self-restraint, but true purity does not display arrogance—it is clear yet inclusive, without harsh words or actions. Wang Bi’s commentary notes that purity demands that the people rid themselves of wickedness and filth, yet it does not use the standard of purity to harm them.

Upright yet not unrestrained. Heshang Gong states that "si" (肆) means indulgence. Though the sage is upright, he bends himself to accommodate others, never acting recklessly or ostentatiously.

Wang Bi explains that one should guide things with uprightness (zheng), helping them eliminate deviance, rather than using rigid righteousness to provoke confrontation. This is the meaning behind the saying "the greatest uprightness appears bent."

Wang Yuanze elaborates further: If one is upright yet unrestrained, they become attached to superficial righteousness. True great uprightness follows heavenly principle (tianli), willingly compromising to uphold the Dao. The Book of Documents states, "upright yet gentle"—gentleness avoids harshness. When the heart is upright yet the exterior is not overbearing, one does not oppress external things—this is the essence of restraint. The Analects say, "simple and upright yet fond of righteousness," shining without glaring.

Emperor Huizong of Song notes in his imperial commentary: Uprightness without restraint leads to oppressing others and arrogance; excessive radiance invites misfortune. Only sages can achieve an upright heart with a yielding exterior, wielding brilliance while returning to innate clarity. Ordinary people often fall into confusion—like Zimo stubbornly clinging to the mean, or Chen Zhongzi obsessing over purity, knowing only how to display but not withdraw, to reveal but not conceal. Using such traits to boast to the world instead loses the wholeness of the sage's realm—how could this rectify the world? The sage's method for rectifying the world is simply this.

Wang Yuanze adds: Flaunting brilliance to impress others is called "showing off." Those who harmonize radiance and return to innate clarity—would they ever seek to dazzle others?

This chapter discusses how fortune and misfortune, uprightness and strangeness, good and evil unpredictably transform into one another. People have long been confused by this—how could they preserve their innate simplicity if governed by harsh decrees? Thus, though sages personally uphold squareness, purity, uprightness, and brightness, they never deliberately display these qualities. They emulate this profound simplicity, rejecting excessive scrutiny, resting calmly amid the shifts of fortune and misfortune.

Chapter 59 states that in governing human affairs and serving the Dao of Heaven, nothing surpasses the importance of "frugality" (se)—cherishing and conserving. Emperor Huizong explains: "Frugality" means nurturing the spirit (shen) without letting external things deplete the inner self. The spirit permeates all directions, reaching everywhere—above to heaven, below through earth, transforming all things. In this, it shares the work of the Celestial Lord (Tiandi). What makes humans human and heaven heaven is their understanding of "frugality." Only by treasuring the spirit can one govern human affairs and serve the Dao of Heaven.

Lü JiFu says: Only by frugally conserving the spirit and avoiding overuse can one recover swiftly. If one exhausts it without restraint, depleting the spirit, even the desire to restore it may come too late.

This passage discusses the relationship between "restraint" (frugality,收敛) and "returning to one's original nature." Wang Yuanze observes: If one indulges desires to the extreme before returning to tranquility, it is already too late. Only those who understand restraint avoid excessive self-depletion and remain close to their innate nature, thus achieving early return to serenity.

Lü Jifu explains: Humans are born with complete De (Virtue/Power). By restraining desires and promptly returning to one's fundamental nature, De becomes increasingly abundant. This is the meaning of "early return is called accumulating De in layers" — timely return enables continuous accumulation of Virtue. Wang Yuanze adds: When De is not dissipated outwardly, it accumulates inwardly through progressive layering.

When De accumulates to profound depths, it becomes invincible (无不克). The Imperial Commentary states: To overcome all is called "conquering"; only De can master all things and command beings without defeat. Lü Jifu elaborates: When profound De reaches its zenith, neither fire can burn nor water drown it; neither seasonal extremes nor wild beasts can harm it—what then remains unconquerable?

Reaching this state of invincibility makes one fathomless (莫知其极). The Imperial Commentary explains: When De becomes unconquerable, it responds to all transformations without exhaustion. Lü Jifu notes: If anything remains unconquered, one's cultivation still has limits; absolute conquest reveals boundless depth.

This unfathomable state qualifies one to govern a nation (可以有国). The Imperial Commentary states: Those who embody the infinite Dao can effortlessly govern the world, let alone a single state. Lü Jifu clarifies: Possessing a country means possessing great things, yet true Dao-realized individuals aren't bound by external matters—they master them. Those reaching unfathomable depths may possess nations without being burdened.

The conclusion affirms: Only Dao-governed states endure (可以长久). The Imperial Commentary declares: As Dao is the source of all things, ruling through it ensures perpetual stability. Chancellor Wang Anshi (舒王) adds: All states originate from Dao; rooted in Dao, they remain eternally secure. This embodies the principle of "deep roots and firm foundations" (深根固柢) — establishing profoundly anchored stability.

Wang Yuanze said that human life is fundamentally rooted in one's innate nature and life essence (referring to primordial Qi and the source of life), while all else is merely peripheral. Those who lose their true nature excessively pursue external trivialities and harm their foundation. When this foundation is injured, Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) weaken, causing life to become like an unsteady fruit stem—leading to premature death. Only by understanding "restraint" (referring to conserving and treasuring one's essence and energy) can one prevent external factors from damaging the root. A deeply rooted foundation makes the stem of life firm; a firm stem allows the body to sustain life long and delay aging.

Lu Dian explained: When all things cannot fathom its depth, it is called "profound"; when all things cannot shake it, it is called "steadfast"—this is the principle of "long life and enduring vision" (prolonged survival and preserved clarity).

The Imperial Commentary notes: The Dao is the mother of all things, and all things are its children; innate nature is the root of the body, while the body is its vessel. Knowing the existence of all things while preserving the source of the Dao ensures a lifetime free from peril. Thus, one may endure long—when the root is deep, the vessel is stable; when innate nature is restored, the body is whole. Existing alongside heaven and earth grants longevity; shining with the sun and moon grants enduring vision. When all things transform, only the "true self" remains eternal—this is the Dao.

Lü Jifu said: The principle of "restraint" is the way of deep-rooted foundations and steadfast stability—the path to long life and enduring vision. Shen (spirit) is the root of life; treasuring and storing it internally makes the root deep and fosters growth. Life is the vessel of vision; nurturing and preserving it makes the foundation firm and ensures lasting clarity.

This chapter begins by stating that in governing human affairs and aligning with heavenly principles, nothing surpasses "restraint," and concludes by emphasizing long life and enduring vision. The way to longevity lies in treasuring the spirit—for the spirit is the root, and the body is its vessel. A deep root stabilizes the vessel, and a stable vessel ensures enduring growth. When the Yellow Emperor once inquired about the way to long life, Guang Chengzi told him: "Keep your spirit tranquil, and your body will naturally be upright; do not disturb your essence and Qi, and you may attain longevity." The Inner Canon records the cultivation method of perfected beings: regulating breath to nourish essence, standing alone while preserving the spirit—thus they live as long as heaven and earth. Speaking of supreme beings, it emphasizes accumulating essence and preserving spirit; speaking of sages, it highlights the unbroken concentration of spirit. Throughout ancient sages and worthies, none achieved the true Dao without treasuring the spirit.

In contrast, people today indulge desires, deplete their essence, squander their true vitality, fail to maintain fullness, and lack mastery over their spirit—losing essence, extinguishing wisdom, and hastening bodily decay and death. How can this be the right path? Thus it is said: The Dao—sages embody it, while fools turn away.