《道德真經集義(二)》Vol. 12

Collected Interpretations of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue, Volume Twelve: Praise One

Compiled by: Master Ningyuan; Liu Weiyong, Supervisor of Xu妙 Monastery in Changde Circuit, editor

Proofread by: Ding Yidong, former Gentleman for Court Audiences, Registrar of the Court of the Imperial Treasury, and Compiler at the Privy Council

The Chapter on Heaven’s Enduring and Earth’s Lasting

Textual variants: The version attributed to Heshang Gong titles this chapter “Concealing the Radiance”; the version of Zhao Shian titles it “The Meaning of Giving Life Without Being Born.”

Commentary by Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang: The previous chapter explains how the “Valley Spirit” responds through emptiness: because it responds through emptiness, it is inexhaustible. This chapter explains that Heaven and Earth are impartial, and endure because they are impartial. It first uses Heaven and Earth as an analogy, then turns to the sage, concluding with “through selflessness, he fulfills himself.” Its purpose is to urge people to practice this Dao diligently.

Du Guangting: The previous chapter clarifies how the Mysterious Female moves Qi, with Heaven and Earth allowing it to proceed naturally. This chapter highlights “Heaven’s endurance and Earth’s lasting,” corresponding to the workings of “allowing things to be natural.” The sage, too, should embody the workings of Heaven and Earth in his conduct; then the people will be at peace and the state secure. Heaven and Earth do not endure by acting out of self-interest. The sage uses the Dao selflessly, and all things turn toward him.

Zhang Chongying: “Conceal” means to hide, and also to nurture. If one nurtures one’s obscurity and puts the Dao into motion without displaying one’s radiance outwardly, the Dao can be realized. This chapter’s account of Heaven and Earth and the sage “not living for themselves, and thereby fulfilling themselves” carries a profound meaning.

Scripture

Heaven endures; Earth lasts. The reason Heaven and Earth can endure and last is that they do not live for themselves; thus they can live on. Therefore, the sage puts himself last and thereby comes first; he sets himself aside and thereby preserves himself. Is it not precisely because he is selfless that he can fulfill his “self”—that is, preserve his person and reputation?

Textual variants: The versions attributed to Heshang Gong and Yan Junping read, “because they are selfless”; Wang Bi’s old text reads, “Is it not because they are selfless?”; the Kaiyuan imperial edition reads, “Is it not because they are selfless?”

Heshang Gong: “Heaven endures; Earth lasts” uses the enduring life and long span of Heaven and Earth as a metaphor for teaching people. Heaven and Earth endure and last because they give quietly without seeking repayment. Unlike people, who anxiously pursue their own advantage and take from others to enrich themselves, they can live on without end. It is precisely because they do not seek life that they live on.

Plain-Language Interpretation

Main idea

Therefore, the sage puts himself last and so comes to the fore. He sets himself aside and so preserves himself.

The people cherish him as they would a parent, and the spirits protect him as they would an infant, so his life endures. Is this not because he is selfless? Is the sage not cherished by the people and protected by the spirits precisely because he is impartial and selfless? That is how he achieves lasting life for himself. Ordinary people think that being “self-interested” means seeking special treatment for oneself. The sage, by being selfless, instead receives special care, and so achieves lasting life for himself.

Wang Bi’s Commentary

Heaven and Earth endure because they do not live for themselves. If they did, they would contend with the myriad things. Since they do not live for themselves, the myriad things turn toward them, and so they live long. “Fulfilling his own interests” means acting without contrivance in regard to himself. He puts himself first by placing himself behind others, and preserves himself by setting himself aside; that is why it is said that he fulfills his own interests.

Commentary by Emperor Xuanzong of Tang

“Heaven is long-lasting and Earth endures” uses Heaven and Earth as a metaphor: only by being free of self-interest and intention can one endure. The whole chapter draws a parallel with the sage, who “puts himself last” and “sets himself aside,” to show that selflessness is what allows him to fulfill his own interests.

Subcommentary (Emperor Xuanzong of Tang)

The chapter first raises a question: Why can Heaven and Earth endure? They cover and sustain the myriad things, nurturing all kinds of beings. They receive this capacity from the Dao, yet do not boast of their work in bringing things into being. That is why they can endure.

Answer

Heaven and Earth can endure because they cover and sustain the myriad things, nurturing all kinds of beings. They receive this capacity from the wondrous source, yet do not boast of their work in bringing things into being. That is why they can endure.

There is another explanation of “they do not live for themselves”: Heaven and Earth simply bring forth and nurture the myriad things, without taking anything extra for themselves. That is why they can live long.

Thus the sage models himself on Heaven and Earth: he covers and sustains all things impartially and nurtures them without self-interest. He willingly steps back, and the people gladly support him; as a result, he comes to the fore. He does not exalt himself or treat himself as precious. The whole world turns toward him, and he has no fear of being harmed; thus he preserves himself. Is this not because he is selfless that he achieves lasting life for himself?

Modern Chinese Interpretation

On “putting oneself last” and “putting oneself outside oneself”

If Earth forgot the merit of nurturing all things, it would be selfless, yet able to endure. This would count as a kind of “fulfilling its own interest.” The sage puts himself last and sets himself outside himself; he, too, is selfless, yet is able to take the lead and preserve himself. This is called “fulfilling his own interest.”

Commentary (explanatory commentary): Is it not because Heaven and Earth can endure, and the sage can take the lead and last, that they harbor no selfish intent—and so attain the practical benefits of “enduring” and “taking the lead”?

Du Guangting says: “Heaven is enduring; Earth is enduring.” In this chapter, Lao Jun explains why Heaven and Earth endure, in order to instruct rulers who govern the world. So at the start of the chapter he poses a question and answers it himself, using a rhetorical device like the questions in works that introduce figures such as “Mr. Nobody,” “Mr. Nowhere,” and “the Master of the Eastern Capital.”

Heaven is a gathering of Qi (vital energy) (as Liezi says: Heaven is accumulated Qi; without Qi, there would be no Heaven). Earth is a gathering of clods: without a place or clods, there would be no Earth. Qi gathers to form images (the insubstantial); clods gather to form shapes (the substantial). The Appended Statements of the Book of Changes says: “In Heaven, images are formed; on Earth, shapes are formed, and changes become visible.” Only with images above and shapes below can change occur and the myriad things come into being. Lao Jun wishes to explain how Heaven and Earth endure, how they “live long.” He first poses a question and then answers it himself, simply to make the matter clear.

The preceding line asks, “Heaven is enduring; Earth is enduring.” The answer here is that Heaven and Earth move through the primordial, harmonious Qi, giving life to the myriad things. Once those things have come to life, Heaven and Earth do not rely on their own De (Virtue/Power), nor claim them as their own achievement. This is why they endure. If they relied on their achievements, those achievements would be diminished; if they relied on their De, it would be weakened. Because they do not rely on either, their De is vast and their achievements great. The myriad things return to their source, and Heaven and Earth endure.

A ruler governing a state should follow Heaven’s way of transforming things, letting them unfold naturally and governing through Wuwei (non-action). The people will then attain peace and harmony of their own accord. In cultivating himself, the ruler need not strain his mind with worry, boast of his reputation, or pursue his desires. If Shen (spirit) is settled within and Qi is harmonious inside, the state’s fortunes will endure and his own life will be prolonged, just as Heaven and Earth endure: through selflessness.

Thus, the sage “puts himself last” and “sets himself outside himself,” yet is able to preserve himself. In governing the state, he does not exalt himself or rely on deliberate action, and does not burden the people to provide for himself. This is what is meant by putting himself last and setting himself outside himself. The rulers of high antiquity embraced Heaven and Earth in their aspirations and extended their beneficence throughout the world, yet no one knew their names. In life they held no rank and did not cling to their position; in death they received no posthumous title and made no claim to achievement. This is the literal meaning.

One who does not deliberately seek fame can still win the support of all under Heaven and draw all things to him in joyful allegiance. This may be called “yielding and thereby coming first; transcending and thereby preserving oneself.” When the age declines, rulers often indulge their private desires and conscript the people, exhausting their strength to satisfy themselves. The people grow weary, government falls into ruin, and the realm turns away in disaffection. This is a departure from the Dao of “placing oneself outside and putting oneself last.” Would it not be better to smash amber pillows, burn pheasant-feather robes, halt the building of terraces and pavilions, and return the thousand-mile horses—so that one’s virtue might serve as an example to the age and one’s name be recorded in history?

Those who cultivate themselves do not covet rank and honors. They stand apart from worldly affairs without rushing forward, and yield inwardly without competing to be first. In this way, they preserve their lives and fill themselves with De. When De is full, people trust and follow them. This is what it means to put oneself first and thereby preserve oneself. To act otherwise is to stray far from the Dao.

Precisely because they harbor no selfish intent, they can fulfill their own interests. The way of the sage is to follow what is natural: not to rule by arbitrary will, not to lavish care on oneself, not to boast of good deeds, and not to compete with all under Heaven to be first. Thus the sage can stand above others. By never claiming a place of honor, the sage enjoys enduring good fortune. Therefore, the people give their hearts, foreign peoples bow their heads, weapons fall silent, and the ancestral temples remain secure. Such great self-interest is achieved precisely by not treating private interests as something to pursue. Through self-cultivation, De becomes full and people are won over; when one’s way accords with the spirits, life is prolonged and enduring. This great self-interest, too, is achieved by not pursuing private desires.

The Lingbao Jing (Scripture of Numinous Treasure) says: “People of the world covet pleasure and pursue desire: joy comes first and suffering follows. Those who indulge in pleasure to the utmost eventually fall into the Three Paths—hell, hungry ghosts, and animals. Those who study the Dao abandon profit and forget fame, dwelling in cold places and refining their practice. For them, hardship comes first and joy follows; accumulating merit and practice, they ascend to the Nine Heavens.”

The Daoist sovereign of the Song dynasty said: “Heaven and Earth endure because they can continue to live.” The vault of Heaven arches above: it threads the sun and moon through the sky and arrays the stars, covering all things. The vast Earth lies below: it congeals into mountains and dissolves into rivers, bearing all things. Heaven and Earth have no private designs concerning the myriad things. Thus Heaven turns steadily without cease, and Earth remains firm in its place; they are able to endure and last. If Heaven and Earth held private designs concerning the myriad things, then Heaven…

Plain-Language Interpretation

If we regard Heaven and Earth as too shallow and insubstantial, as though they could only barely “cover things” and “support things,” then we confine Heaven and Earth themselves. How, then, could they be said to endure? The sage dwells between Heaven and Earth and joins them as the Three Powers. The three work together, yet each stands as one of the Three Poles; interweaving, they become the Three Spirits, each with its own mysterious power. Heaven, Earth, and the sage all come into being through attaining the Dao. The sage’s way of cultivating the self is simply to take Heaven and Earth as a model. So this chapter first explains that Heaven and Earth endure because they do not live for themselves, then that the sage does not treat “this body” as private property.

Most people compete to be first, but the sage is content to stay behind, even accepting the world’s insults. This is called “putting the self last.” By not contending with anything, the sage leaves no one in the world able to contend with them. That is why it is said, “Putting the self last, the self comes first.” The sage does not compete for the advantages of easy or difficult roads, nor for harmony with Yin-Yang in winter or summer. Holding life and death lightly and clinging neither to good fortune nor misfortune, the spirit remains unbound. This is called “setting the self aside, and the self is preserved.”

The sage cultivates the self in this way and is all the less attached to things beyond the self: when meeting them, there is no need to force their course; when passing them, there is no need to cling. Guarding one’s nature and embracing Shen (spirit), the sage moves among ordinary people. People naturally return to what is right, and the self and other gradually become one. To be born before Heaven and Earth without claiming to have endured longer, and to outlast high antiquity without considering oneself old and worn—these are perhaps the results of such practice. Is it not precisely by being free of self-interest that one can fulfill what is one’s own? The great De (Virtue/Power) of Heaven and Earth is to give life; the sage’s greatest treasure is their position. The Dao makes this possible for all. Heaven and Earth embody the Dao and so are selfless; being selfless, they endure. The sage embodies the Dao and so is selfless; being selfless, they remain. Those who devote themselves entirely to their own advantage have never truly secured what is their own.

Wang Anshi says: Heaven and Earth endure for a long time, and so they live on. “Long” means far-reaching; “enduring” means constant. Heaven and Earth endure because they do not live for themselves, allowing all things to live as each will. By allowing all things to live, they can sustain the life of all things without being burdened by the act of giving life. He also says: Heaven is described as “long” and Earth as “enduring,” which shows that “enduring” carries greater weight. Thus the sage arrives, and the self comes first. This expresses the same principle as “Putting the self last, the self comes first”: the sage does not contend to be first, and the world naturally places them first. Heaven and Earth do not live for themselves, and so they live on. By allowing all things to live as each will, they can sustain the life of all things without being burdened by life.

A Reading of “Put the Self Last and the Self Is Preserved” and How Selflessness Fulfills the Self

The sage has no fixed sense of “I” in the heart. Once there is an “I,” it becomes entangled with external things, and things and self constrain one another: all things become adversaries, and I struggle against them. That is why Laozi says “put the self last.” All things can weigh me down, so I do not let them do so; that is why he says “put the self outside.” Thus, “put the self outside and the self is preserved.” Is it not precisely by having no selfish intent that one can fulfill oneself?

An Explanation of the Word “Selfish” (According to the Han Feizi)

The Han Feizi says: to care only for oneself is called “selfishness,” and to act against public right is also called “selfishness.” No one who cares only for themselves has ever truly managed to fulfill their own interests. The written form of the character “selfish” thus suggests a concern only for oneself that cannot take everything into account. This is what Laozi means when he says, “Is it not because he is without selfish intent that he can fulfill his own interests?” The character “selfish” is composed of “grain” and “private.” “Private” means seeking one’s own advantage. People cannot avoid making plans for themselves, but if they seek their own advantage without obstructing “the benefit of all things,” they will not incur resentment for being selfish.

Su Yingbin (Su Zhe) says:

Heaven is long-lasting and Earth endures. Though Heaven and Earth are vast, they still belong to the realm of forms and countable things, so their “lastingness” is limited. When Laozi speaks of lastingness and treats Heaven and Earth as its highest example, he is speaking from the perspective of what people can see. The most complete kind of lastingness lies at what is called “the beginning of Heaven and Earth.” Heaven and Earth can endure and “fulfill their own interests” because they bring forth and transform all things without seeking life for themselves; standing beyond all things, they can live long. The sage “puts himself last, yet comes first” and “puts himself outside, yet is preserved”: situated beyond the crowd and benefiting others, the sage can come first and endure. If Heaven and Earth competed with all things for life, or the sage competed with everyone else for profit, Heaven and Earth would be no more than one thing, and the sage no more than one person. How could they be so great? Of course, they do not practice selflessness in order to “fulfill their own interests.” Yet as a result of their selflessness, their interests are fulfilled. The Dao is simply like this.

Lü Jifu says:

Heaven is long-lasting and Earth endures, and so they can live long. “Long” and “short” concern space; “enduring” and “near” concern time. Heaven moves according to time, and because “form” alone is insufficient, it is described as “long.” Earth moves according to physical form, and because “time” alone is insufficient, it is described as “enduring.” The source of Heaven and Earth comes from the “Mysterious Female”—the profound maternal source, the basis of generation. Its nature rests in “the Valley Spirit never dies”: what does not die does not generate, and only what does not generate can give birth to all things. Heaven and Earth can be both long-lasting and enduring because they do not generate themselves. Because they do not generate themselves, they can live long, like the Valley Spirit. Thus, the sage “puts himself last” and “puts himself outside” according to the same principle.

A General Discussion of “Putting Oneself Last” and “Holding Oneself Apart”

Although the sage lives among others, the sage does not regard the physical body as a burden. The sage comes forward only when there is no alternative, and external things cannot place themselves above him. He abides in the “realm of nowhere,” where external things cannot harm him. Thus, “by holding himself apart, he preserves himself”: precisely because he is free of self-interest, he can fulfill what may seem to be his own interests.

The “self” is what I cling to as mine. To put oneself last and hold oneself apart is to be public-minded and free of selfishness. By being free of self-interest, one can instead fulfill that small measure of self-interest.

Lu Nongshi’s Interpretation

Heaven endures and Earth lasts, and so they can live long. Those who crave life cannot live long; those who forget life, by contrast, do not die. That is why it is said that Heaven and Earth endure. They endure because they do not make their own life their purpose, and so they can live long.

The sage puts himself last, yet his person is preserved. The sage is one who accords with the Dao of Heaven and Earth; he simply yields himself. By taking the place behind, he comes to the fore; by forgetting himself, he is able to remain. Thus it is said that the sage puts himself last, yet his person is preserved: precisely because he is free of self-interest, he can fulfill his own interests.

The point is not simply that “being free of self-interest leads to self-interest.” Rather, it means yielding oneself and readily forgetting oneself.

Wang Yuanze’s Interpretation

Heaven endures and Earth lasts, and so they can live long. If one “lives for oneself,” one clings to the existence of a life. Once the thought of “life” arises, life has already been lost. Only by not taking life as something to live for does life remain unborn. Though the physical form in which one dwells is still present, it is free of the entanglement of being burdened by the effort to preserve life; naturally, it can endure.

Heaven and Earth do not live for themselves; they do not deliberately act this way in order to last. This is simply how the Dao is. What is called endurance is no more than an instant. What is truly enduring is that which covers and sustains the myriad things, undergoes upheaval and change, and yet is never destroyed.

Thus the sage puts himself last, yet comes first. Though the sage is wise, his physical form is still of the same kind as all other things. Only by embodying the Dao of Heaven and not contending can he differ from ordinary people. If he set up an “I” and opposed others, even the humblest man or woman could overcome him.

By holding himself apart, he preserves himself. If there is an “I” to preserve, then all things can become one’s enemies. Only by standing beyond things and letting the self fall away, without asserting an “I,” can one keep external things from overturning oneself. Precisely because he is free of self-interest, he can fulfill his own interests.

The sage is free of self-interest and has never asserted an “I”; that is how this can be so. If one does it as a calculated strategy, could one’s selfish intent be any greater?

Liu Jiji’s Interpretation

(This passage is often read together with the preceding text in transmitted editions. Its general meaning is close to the interpretations of Lu and Wang: Heaven and Earth endure because they do not live for themselves; the sage puts himself last and holds himself apart, using selflessness to serve the common good and to fulfill what is properly his to fulfill. If the wording differs in the edition being consulted, it should be checked against the original book.)

Correspondence with Chapter Seven of the Dao De Jing

Brief Explanations of Terms

• Sage: A person who accords with the Dao of Heaven and does not use private cleverness to contend for precedence; this does not refer only to the Confucian “sage.”
• “Holding oneself apart”: Not clinging to the thought “this is my body” and becoming anxious about gain and loss.
• “The realm of nowhere”: A realm of emptiness and stillness, free of attachment. This expression comes from the Zhuangzi and here refers to a place in which no private self is asserted.

Harmony—harmony and the natural Way—works like this: each thing has its own birth, and each has its own decline and decay. Only by refusing to make “living for oneself” the guiding principle and following the workings of creation can one endure. Heaven takes accumulated Qi—the gathering of clear Qi—as its foundation and prizes height and vastness; hence it is called “long.” Earth takes accumulated matter—solid soil and stone—as its foundation and prizes stability; hence it is called “lasting.” “Lasting” here does not mean there is some separate substance called “endless life.” It is called lasting because it can endure and remain stable.

By their ordinary nature, Qi and soil and stone will eventually decay and perish, yet there is still a principle by which they can endure. If we see only that Heaven and Earth, too, will perish and so take “endurance” to be an illusion, we are merely looking at what exists—seeing only the visible and tangible side of things. Thus the sage, one who has attained the Dao, can reach fulfillment while keeping the body intact. Becoming one with Heaven and Earth, the sage “puts the self last,” so that the body seems not to live for itself; the body remains and endures, almost as if it lived forever. “Putting the self last” means yielding to others; “placing the self outside” means forgetting the self. When one yields, others are willing to let one go first; when one forgets the self, one survives by placing the self outside. Is this not selflessness? And so one “fulfills the self.”

Heaven and Earth do not live for themselves, and the sage puts the self last and places the self outside: all are selfless. As a result, Heaven and Earth endure, and the sage’s body remains; in their effects, they all “fulfill the self.” Yet this “being selfless and thereby serving oneself” has a deeper meaning. Zhuangzi says: what seems selfless contains its own self-interest. The previous chapter discussed the root of Heaven and Earth; this chapter follows with their endurance.

Liu Zhi says: Heaven and Earth can “fulfill the self” because they are long-lasting. Heaven is Wuwei (non-action) and clear, so it remains lucid and moves without cease; Earth is Wuwei and still, so it remains settled and stable. Both endure because they do not live for themselves. If they devoted themselves to living for themselves, their knowledge would fall short and their strength would fail them—how could they endure? People live between Heaven and Earth and share the same Qi, yet cannot share their longevity because they act, desire, and cling too fiercely to life. Therefore the sage puts the self last and dares not act, and places the self outside and dares not desire. While everyone seeks good fortune, the sage alone preserves wholeness by yielding; while everyone vies to go first, the sage alone chooses to come last. This is called “putting the self last.” Forgetting the liver and gallbladder, discarding the ears and eyes, setting aside life and death, and leaving behind disaster and blessing—this is called “placing the self outside.” By coming last and not competing to be first, and by placing the self outside and not relying on oneself, the sage wanders beyond the dust of the world and roams freely in the realm of Wuwei: limbs discarded, hearing abandoned, form left behind, and knowledge cast off. Only in this way can one share the enduring life of Heaven and Earth.

After the physical form perishes, wisdom returns to the ordinary, and one merges with the Dao. Long united with the Dao, the body does not strive to be first yet naturally moves ahead; it does not cling to survival yet is naturally preserved. Is this not because it is free of selfish intent? Precisely because there is no selfish intent, the self is fulfilled.

The sage places himself behind others yet thereby preserves himself; he does not set himself above the myriad things yet thereby completes himself. Outwardly he shows softness and humility; inwardly he rests in emptiness and does not harm the myriad things. Hence the text turns to “the highest good is like water.”

Zhao Shian said: “The opening explains the principle of longevity in three layers. The first layer takes the long endurance of heaven and earth as an example. Heaven and earth endure because the Dao manifests through concrete things, yet one cannot see when it ends. Fire continues through fuel as if it would never burn out; when the myriad things take form, the Dao grows with them. But ‘unceasing generation’ does not mean the Dao itself is born and dies like the myriad things. Fire passes on light; when the fuel is exhausted, the fire withdraws—yet light shines on without ever falling into darkness. Thus the previous chapter says ‘the valley spirit does not die’ and calls it Xuanpin (the mysterious root that gives birth); the gate of Xuanpin is the root of heaven and earth. The reason it does not die lies in not being drained and not forcing action. Next, speaking of the long endurance of heaven and earth uses them to verify this principle.

The second layer explains that the generation of the myriad things does not arise from private intent. Heaven and earth can endure because primary Qi (Yiqi, the original breath that begets the myriad things) divides and forms the two modes of Yin and Yang, each in its place. Though heaven and earth differ in height, both partake of the spiritual nature of ‘attaining the One’: heaven attains the One, so it is long-lasting; earth attains the One, so it endures. ‘Long’ and ‘enduring’ are close in meaning—they are fundamentally the same. Why call heaven ‘long’ and earth ‘enduring’? Because heaven is chiefly qi, it is called long; because earth is chiefly form, it is called enduring. Clear qi rises—it seems to have form yet connects with the formless; is the vast azure truly heaven’s original color? Turbid qi sinks—though there is qi, it cannot leave form; is the earth’s vast extent truly what it bears of its own accord?

Yet heaven and earth are both born of the Dao. The great Dao is formless, yet it begets heaven and earth; heaven and earth take the formless Dao as root. Formlessness is namelessness; the nameless is the beginning of heaven and earth and their origin. From emptiness one receives nature; from nature one returns to emptiness—this is entering nothingness from being. From emptiness qi arises; from qi form takes shape—this is entering being from nothingness. What ‘attaining the One’ refers to is the true origin (Zhenyuan); Zhenyuan is one Qi. Heaven and earth can endure because Yin and Yang qi unite and circulate without losing their constant measure, so generation never ceases. If one took union and change to be neither moving nor still, heaven and earth would at times collapse.”

The earth sometimes erupts and sometimes reveals itself, moving between closing and opening, motion and stillness.

From this, the sun and moon divide day from night, and cold and heat give way to warmth and coolness. All this happens because the Dao continues without end, like something “faintly present, yet enduring.” So the Liezi says: Qi does not suddenly swell to fullness, and a form does not suddenly diminish. This is because things have seasons and rhythms; simply reaching extreme emptiness and stillness, or concentrating on guarding Qi, does not make one flow in accord with the Dao.

Heaven is borne by Qi, and so arches above; Earth rests on form, and so spreads vast below. These are the natural positions of Heaven and Earth. The Qian hexagram says that stillness brings focus; the Kun hexagram says that movement opens things up. These are the natural qualities of Heaven and Earth. They regard the myriad things as “straw dogs”—this is the impartiality of Heaven and Earth. They respond to things like a “bellows” (an image of emptiness holding fullness, opening and closing, breathing in and out)—this is the principle of Heaven and Earth.

If we speak of Heaven in terms of its movement, its pivot turns at the center, with the Six Qi at its service; even in motion, it is never without stillness. If we speak of Earth in terms of its repose, it seems to lie motionless, yet its virtue is vast and encompassing; even in stillness, it is never without movement. What Heaven and Earth concentrate on is Qi, not clinging to things. When Qi is concentrated, each thing fulfills its own life. Why, then, would Heaven and Earth need to intervene deliberately? The Dao follows what is natural, and so do Heaven and Earth. Thus what is born comes to life of its own accord, and what changes transforms of its own accord. Though the myriad things flourish in profusion, I help them grow without claiming them as my own; though affairs are turbulent, I act without relying on my achievements. This is the Way of life and transformation that endures for a long time.

Thus it is said: Heaven and Earth can endure for a long time precisely because they do not live for themselves; therefore they can live long. The word “can” is used in relation to people and Heaven and Earth. How do we know this? Heaven and Earth act through Wuwei (non-action), yet nothing is left undone. The ideas of ability and inability, of being able or unable, apply to people. To say that Heaven and Earth “can” endure means they do not privately claim their life as their own, and so they live long. To say that people “cannot” endure means they treat external things as their own, and so lose their life. This is why Heaven and Earth can endure for a long time.

And why say “for a time”? No form is greater than Heaven and Earth, and no lifespan longer than that of Qian and Kun. The word “for a time” simply means “for the present.” However vast Heaven and Earth may be, from the perspective of the Dao they have not escaped form. What has form cannot endure through form; what is subject to measure cannot be held forever by measure. As great cycles succeed one another, all things eventually decay. Before that decay, one can only say: “for a time.” What does not decay is the nature of Heaven and Earth.

“Form” here refers to the great form of Heaven and Earth.

A Vernacular Interpretation

Decrease (reduction, not reaching fullness) is a law of Heaven and Earth. Consider the pointless worry of the people of Qi (an ancient small state; legend tells of someone who spent all day fearing the sky would collapse). Those who rush to “answer” or to show themselves often have not yet had time to truly understand. Grasp these three points, and you will not reach a dead end. Because Heaven and Earth do not live for themselves, they endure.

A scripture of the immortals says: the body is established through the Dao (the Way), and the spirit is born from emptiness. At birth, people receive the same Qi (vital energy) as Heaven and Earth, yet they cannot live as long as Heaven and Earth because they do not know how to preserve Qi and abide by the Dao. Heaven and Earth naturally refine the Returning Elixir: lead, dragon, mercury, and tiger lie hidden at Mao and You, rising and descending, coming and going. Heaven is Yang and Earth is Yin. At the points where the “two solstices” converge and Kun and Gen meet, their movement follows measured cycles and opportune times: Kun and Xun move through Heaven, while Qian and Gen pass through Earth. This is the natural process of return. That is why Heaven can be long-lasting and Earth endure. Within the human body, the five organs follow the pattern of Heaven and Earth above and accord with the six Qi in between; all are originally inseparable from this Dao.

The key to losing the Dao is failing to focus Qi to govern oneself, preserve Qi to sustain oneself, and move Qi in accord with the Dao. Chasing illusory realms all day, one takes a crooked step and Qi disperses. How, then, could one seek longevity alongside Heaven and Earth?

The Huangting Jing says: “When Qi is lost and fluids leak away, the body is no longer one’s own.” So one must lose neither Qi within nor form without. The form transforms into spirit, and spirit transforms into the Dao; then form does not depart from the Dao, and Qi does not depart from spirit. With clarity within and without, one forgets oneself and reveals De (Virtue/Power). This is how the sage “puts the self last” and preserves it. The first two lines explain that Heaven and Earth endure because they “do not live for themselves.” Not living for oneself means focusing Qi without fixating on external things. Focused Qi brings stillness and stability; stillness and stability make one responsive to affairs, while the spirit is not exhausted and its capacity remains in reserve. Such is simply the principle by which Heaven and Earth generate and transform. To clarify what the sage’s “putting the self last” means, the Supreme One (Laozi) first speaks of Heaven and Earth, then turns to the sage; the wording therefore carries forward from what precedes it.

When wisdom is fully penetrating, it is clarity: the world does not see the sage’s wisdom but sees his clarity. When rank reaches its height, it is honor: the world does not recognize his honor but sees his rank. In such matters, the sage regularly conceals his clarity and hides his wisdom, lowers his rank and humbles himself. Then clarity is not obscured by things, and honor is not surpassed by lowliness. Wisdom reaches farther, clarity encompasses more, rank grows more secure, and the person becomes more at ease. This is the way of remaining behind yet taking the lead.

The Liezi says: “Under Heaven there is a constant way to prevail: it is called softness.” The sage’s choice to remain behind and stay low expresses precisely this idea.

Plain-Language Interpretation

This passage explains ideas like “By placing himself behind, he comes to the fore; by putting himself outside, he remains safe” and “Is it not because he is without selfishness that he can accomplish his own ends?” from the Dao De Jing. Drawing on Confucius’s discussions of ritual, it shows why a sage must be humble and avoid striving to be first.

If someone single-mindedly vies to be “ahead of others”—believing that no one under Heaven can equal or surpass him—and constantly “exalts his own person,” placing himself above everyone else, disputes will arise and everyone will become an enemy. Even those of low status may overstep their bounds and rise above him, diminishing the very prestige he seeks to uphold. His position will then be insecure, and his person in danger.

The Highest One, Laozi, aims to teach the sage the meaning of humility, so that no one under Heaven will stand ahead of him. This is the way to preserve oneself. Confucius said that with ritual there is security, and without ritual there is danger; humility is itself a form of ritual. He also said that when a ruler treats his ministers with ritual propriety, this is enough to curb the arrogance of the proud. The teaching is first illustrated by Heaven and Earth, whose enduring existence rests on not striving to be first; it is then illustrated by the sage, who abides in the Dao for a long time through humility. To put oneself behind is, as stated first, to dare not place oneself ahead of the world; to put oneself outside is, as stated afterward, to have no selfish attachment to oneself.

For the sage, this is essential both in cultivating himself and in dealing with others. It is not merely a way to govern himself: through it, the Dao becomes settled, longevity may be attained, and the subtle workings of Heaven and Earth are embodied. The final phrase, “accomplish his aims,” likewise means that precisely because he is without selfishness, he can accomplish what is “his own”—preserve himself and fulfill his purpose.

The Imperial Commentary offers another explanation of “selfishness.” To pursue one’s own interests is called selfishness. Yet in the saying, “Is it not because he is without selfishness that he can accomplish his own ends?”, the sage’s ability to accomplish things lies precisely in this: he places himself behind and thereby brings himself to the fore; he puts himself outside and thereby preserves himself. Selfishness is the root of intention, and intention is subtle. When a matter is conceived in the mind, it is subtle; when that subtlety becomes visible in action, it becomes intention at work. This subtle intention begins with the mind’s private purpose. What begins privately in the mind is expressed through action; once the action is complete, it becomes public. The private purpose serves the mind’s design for accomplishing something through the person; once the person’s achievement is visible, a public reputation is established.

When the sage seeks to fulfill the sacred Way, he does not put himself ahead of others. In motive, this may seem “selfish”; yet because every action remains humble, others in turn place him first. He thus uses what comes later to attain what comes first—is that not a kind of “selfishness”? As for putting himself outside and thereby preserving himself: if he does not put himself outside, he places himself where desirable things can be grasped. When desire prevails, harm follows; when harm follows, the person is injured. But by putting himself outside, he seeks his own well-being without seeking to possess things, and so he can preserve himself. To preserve oneself is to treat one’s person as something “one’s own”; yet when one’s person is free from harm and endures for a long time, the result is public.

What the sage does should not, in itself, be called “selfish.” It is described as “selfish” because the explanation traces the matter back to its beginning, when he did not dare state it directly; hence the question ends with “is it not?”—a phrase expressing uncertainty or seeming. The point of the scripture is to reveal the sage’s subtle art of preserving himself: it appears selfish, yet in truth serves the common good.

Meaning of the Scripture

Can we say that Heaven and Earth endure forever because they are “selfless”? Do not assume that the sage has no private interest. It is precisely through a certain kind of “private interest” that the public good can be fulfilled. Here, “therefore” refers to fulfilling one’s own interest by “putting oneself last” and “keeping oneself apart.”

Xu You, the lofty man in Daoist legend who refused Yao’s offer of the realm, did not accept the name of “Wuwei” (non-action). He put himself last and thereby gained what was “his own.” Bao Shu, who in the Spring and Autumn period shared wealth with Guan Zhong and yielded to him, practiced the virtue of sharing wealth. By setting aside what belonged to him, Bao Shu fulfilled what was “public.”

Yet Heaven and Earth’s “private interest” lies in not claiming life as their own. Who, then, can say that those who follow the Dao act for the sake of the “public good”?

Shao Ruoyu says: Heaven endures, and Earth endures; thus they fulfill what is their own. The Dao runs through the Four Greats—Dao, Heaven, Earth, and humanity. Among the Four Greats, those who attain the Dao and become great are none greater than Heaven and Earth and the sage. Heaven attains the One and becomes clear. It arches above, takes Qian as its substance, and is firm, strong, central, and upright. It is the source from which the myriad things begin, and it moves with steady constancy. Zhuangzi says, “The Way of Heaven moves without obstruction or stagnation”; the Yijing says, “It shows people what is easy.” Earth attains the One and becomes still. It stretches broadly below, takes Kun as its substance, bears and supports all things with the fullness of Heaven, and is the source from which the myriad things arise. It settles into place with steady constancy. Zhuangzi says, “The Way of Earth moves without obstruction or stagnation”; the Yijing says, “It shows people what is simple.” Between Heaven and Earth, all is already complete: Qian is the image of Heaven, and Kun is the image of Earth. When Qian is still, it is single-minded; when it moves, it is firm and direct. Thus greatness is born in Heaven. When Kun is still, it gathers inward; when it moves, it opens forth. Thus abundance is born on Earth. Therefore Heaven attains the One and remains clear forever, while Earth attains the One and remains still forever.

How could anything with form avoid decay? Heaven and Earth endure because the cycles of the four seasons receive their power from the Dao, which governs generation and transformation. Heaven and Earth do not claim life as their own, and so they can live long. The sage takes them as a model: dwelling humbly below and not daring to exalt himself, he puts himself last, yet comes to stand at the front. He regards worldly benefits as things outside himself; by keeping himself apart and avoiding entanglement in things, he preserves himself and endures. Is the sage’s putting himself last and keeping himself apart not a form of selflessness? He follows Heaven and Earth in “acting without action,” and so fulfills what is his own.

Wang Zhiran says: Heaven endures, and Earth endures; thus they fulfill what is their own. The Dao runs through the Four Greats, and among those who attain the Dao and become great, none are greater than Heaven and Earth and the sage. Heaven attains the One and becomes clear, occupying the place above and taking Qian as its substance. Earth attains the One and becomes still, occupying the place below and taking Kun as its steadfast principle; it bears and supports all things with the fullness of Heaven. Between Heaven and Earth, all is already complete: Qian is the image of Heaven, and Kun is the image of Earth. Qian is single-minded when still and direct when moving, and thus greatness is born from it. Kun gathers inward when still and opens forth when moving, and thus abundance is born from it.

Heaven and Earth have mastered the simplest and easiest principles. That is why they endure through countless kalpas and remain for a long time, spanning ten thousand ages without being destroyed. Laozi’s words, “Heaven is long-lasting and Earth endures,” point to this: because Heaven and Earth do not live for themselves, they can live long. The sage follows the example of Heaven and Earth. Their endurance rests on sharing one substance with the wondrous Qi of the True One—the Daoist term for the primordial Qi of the cosmos—and on being united with the Dao. Thus they can cover and bear all things, bring them forth and nurture them, and bring them to completion; they turn the four seasons and measure what has no bounds. From birth through keeping, growth, nurture, completion, ripening, nourishment, and shelter, they act without intention. When their work is done, they naturally withdraw and never claim credit. Even as the myriad things come to life, they do not know who has brought them forth and nurtured them.

The sage understands the creative transformation of Heaven and Earth and occupies the center. In their interconnectedness, they form the Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and humanity; considered distinctly, they are the Three Poles; in their interaction, they are the Three Spirits. The sage looks down upon all under Heaven without a divided heart and always takes the people’s hearts as their own. The people look up to the sage without following a divided Way and always take the sage’s Way as their own. Then all under Heaven is at peace through Wuwei (non-action) and spontaneous self-ordering. If the sage has no choice but to govern all under Heaven, they “place themselves behind”: never putting themselves ahead of others, yet naturally coming to the fore. They “place themselves outside”: never putting things before themselves, yet all under Heaven gladly supports them and does not turn away. This is what the Book of Songs means when it says, “From east and west, from south and north, none fail to submit.”

Alas, the great De of Heaven and Earth is called “giving life,” and the sage’s great treasure is their position. Heaven covers all without partiality, and Earth bears all without partiality. Yet Heaven can cover but cannot bear, while Earth can bear but cannot cover; in this, the work of Heaven and Earth is still incomplete. From the human point of view, the endurance of Heaven and Earth is beyond comparison and difficult to discuss. From the point of view of the Dao, their endurance is like a moment. The sage, too, does not readily step into public life. They conceal the capacity for great action, remain utterly impartial, and keep themselves humble and withdrawn. Their heart roams among worldly affairs, sharing the people’s troubles in both good and bad fortune. It is also said that the sage “does not regard their person as their own.” Is this selfishness or selflessness? The Zhuangzi says: “Without action and without form, it seems selfless; with feeling and trustworthiness, it seems selfish.” Thus it is said: “It is not by being selfless that one can accomplish what is one’s own.” How should scholars understand this?

Collected Meanings of the True Scripture of the Dao and De (2): A Plain-Language Interpretation

[Huang Maocai’s explanation]

Heaven can last long, and Earth can endure, precisely because of this they can fulfill what is particular to each of them. Nothing among the myriad things lives without relying on the Qi of Heaven and Earth. Yet Heaven and Earth have never “personally brought forth” anyone, as people do: humans, beasts, birds, fish, grasses, and trees each come into life in their own way. When have Heaven and Earth ever intervened? What gives life does not itself come to life again. The myriad things therefore pass away and succeed one another, generation after generation. What does not come to life does not die; Heaven and Earth thus endure through the ages, without end. If people could follow the same Dao as Heaven and Earth, could they not also live long? This is why the sage “puts himself last,” yet his person is preserved.

“Putting himself last” applies to how one conducts oneself in the world; “setting himself apart” applies to embodying the Dao. Some people are humble and self-effacing, and are esteemed in their villages and honored by the court. Others leave behind their bodily form and cleverness, and live apart from the world; they, too, can surely endure. Is this not because, by being selfless, they fulfill what is particular to themselves? Heaven covers all things without favoritism; Earth supports all things without favoritism. The sage unites his De with Heaven and Earth: while everyone else forgets himself, the sage alone remains; while all things meet an early end, the sage alone enjoys longevity. Is this not what it means to “fulfill what is particular to oneself”?

[Cheng Taizhi’s explanation]

Heaven lives long and Earth endures, and so they can continue to give life. The later passage speaks of people living a long time and attaining longevity; that refers to the human lifespan. The “everlasting life” of Heaven and Earth does not mean that they have lived for a certain number of years. The Book of Changes says, “The ceaseless creation of life is what is meant by Change.” There is already this first level of “life,” and the Book of Changes then extends it by another level of “life”; this is called “ceaseless creation of life.” By extension, wherever the Book of Changes speaks of “life,” it often means adding to what one originally lacked. Heaven and Earth do not “give life to themselves,” yet they can nurture and continue this process of life. This is precisely what the Liezi means when it says: “That which gives life to life does not itself come to life; the Dao of what does not come to life cannot be exhausted.” The passage here is elaborating on that statement.

The things of the world are born from “being,” and “being” is born from “nonbeing.” Heaven and Earth can give life to the myriad things, transforming them from their constant state of being, yet they never count themselves among those that are “born.” Vast and majestic, Heaven and Earth cause the different kinds among the myriad creatures to receive their Qi and take form. Yet Heaven and Earth as a whole have neither increased nor diminished through the ages. What they possess is not depleted, and what they bring forth is not destroyed. Thus they can nurture all life in the world without end. The Liezi also says: “What is born from life dies, but that which gives life to life has never come to an end. What takes form from form grows worn out, but that which gives form to forms has never come to an end.” Forms decay, but that which creates their forms does not come to an end.

Plain-language interpretation:

The body is real, yet it is never fixed or unchanging. Taking this principle to its logical conclusion, the sage puts himself behind others and so is able to lead them. Earlier chapters have explained this clearly: if the sage wishes to stand above others, he speaks humbly; if he wishes to go ahead of them, he places himself behind. Thus, though he occupies a high position, people do not feel burdened by him; though he takes the lead, they do not feel harmed. For this reason, people throughout the world gladly support him and never tire of doing so. “Putting himself behind, he comes first” means that he gains by diminishing himself. Because he does not contend, no one can contend with him. The root of this principle is that Heaven and Earth do not live for themselves, yet endure for a long time.

“Keeping himself outside, he remains whole.” People cherish themselves, whether they are noble or lowly, wise or foolish. But if they do so without understanding the Way, their efforts to benefit themselves will instead bring harm. Laozi says, “People make light of death because they set too much store by life.” This means that those who place excessive importance on preserving life may end up risking death. He also says, “To augment life is called inauspicious.” This means putting one’s limited intelligence to work in pursuit of things that life does not naturally need. Whether one overindulges in the interests of life or forcibly seeks to augment it, in both cases one may seem to be doing everything possible to care for oneself. Yet excessive indulgence can lead to risking death, while the pursuit of added life can bring calamity. This happens because people do not understand the principle of “following the natural course in every detail,” and instead force their way toward a direct result.

The sage preserves himself by following the Way. He knows that the coming of life cannot be refused and its departure cannot be stopped. So he sets aside worldly affairs, leaving his mind unburdened; from freedom of burden comes proper balance. The way of proper balance neither leans to one side nor covets what lies beyond one’s reach. Zhuangzi’s discussion of “Nurturing Life” makes this clear. If one neither harms life by falling below its natural course nor tries to augment life by going beyond it, then what is meant by “what comes cannot be turned away” does not lie within one’s control. Where else, then, could one turn? It is precisely by keeping himself outside that he is able to preserve himself.

Laozi understood the mysteries of the Dao deeply. All that he says concerns what lies beyond the physical realm: it cannot be grasped at a glance, and he does not express it in direct, unvarnished terms. He often places the true meaning within his words and hides the deeper meaning beyond them, much like the riddles of later ages. This is not arrogance toward the world. Rather, if a person cannot infer the other three corners after being shown one, then even speaking patiently right into his ear will do little good.

This passage comes from the Collected Interpretations of the True Classic of the Dao and Its Virtue. It explains the meaning of “putting oneself last,” “placing oneself outside oneself,” and “Is it not because he is free of self-interest that he can fulfill his own interests?” in Chapter Seven of the Dao De Jing. The main idea is set out below in plain language.

The main text

“Other explanations follow the same principle”—the other statements should be understood in the same way.

Self-interest does not mean only taking what belongs to others. In broad terms, the principle is this: what favors everyone and serves the public is public-minded; what favors only oneself is self-interested. You need not take from others for your own benefit to be acting out of self-interest. Even if you put yourself last and set yourself aside, seeming to make no plans for your own benefit, deep down you may still be protecting your own person and interests.

If you truly put yourself last and let others go first, yet remain as though you had given it no thought, then the natural order will preserve you of its own accord. By not pursuing self-interest deliberately, you can instead fulfill your own interests. That is what this means.

Zhan Qiupu says

“Heaven and Earth endure, and so can fulfill their own interests”—the endurance of Heaven and the permanence of Earth are expressed precisely in this ability to “fulfill their own interests.”

A chapter titled “Concealing the Light” says that one gathers in one’s sharpness and hides one’s brilliance in order to nourish one’s clear nature and let its light endure. Heaven and Earth are lasting and steadfast because they do not seek to claim the “great De” for themselves alone. The Dao speaks of “giving life,” and so life endures. The sage follows Heaven and Earth: by putting himself last, he comes to the fore; by placing himself outside himself, he preserves himself. Is this not how one truly preserves oneself by being free of self-interest? It all comes from concealing one’s brilliance and refusing to show off.

Zhang Chongying says

Heaven endures and Earth remains firm, and so they can “fulfill their own interests.” Heaven is clear, covering all things and enduring without perishing; Earth is substantial, bearing all things and remaining firm without shifting. Why is this so?

Heaven endures, yet does not “bring forth Heaven for its own sake.” It forgets that it is merely the form called “Heaven,” while the Way of covering all things operates silently and never grows complacent. Thus Heaven endures of its own accord. Earth remains firm, yet does not “bring forth Earth for its own sake.” It forgets that it is merely the body called “Earth,” while the Way of bearing all things operates silently and never ceases. Thus Earth remains firm of its own accord.

“Not bringing forth life for oneself” means that the Dao operates endlessly within me, while I do not force it to emerge from some particular source. Thus Heaven takes shape without an image, and Earth takes form without a shape. This is why Heaven and Earth endure.

The sage is one who has realized the Dao in the world. Knowing why Heaven and Earth endure, he uses his person to put the Dao into practice, rather than making the Dao his person. He is humble before others instead of elevating only himself, and so others honor him, and he too is honored. He treats others generously instead of favoring only himself, and so others treat him generously, and he too is well provided for. By lowering himself and making little of himself, he comes before others. He preserves and nourishes his person, while keeping out of the limelight and not contending for fame. From the outside, he appears entirely free of self-interest; yet when one looks more closely, the achievement lies with “me.” His daily conduct appears selfless, but in practice it is precisely “me” that he preserves. That is what this means.

Those who study the Dao should turn inward and understand the subtlety of concealing their brilliance—holding back their sharpness and not seeking to shine.

Bai Yuchan says:

Heaven endures, and Earth lasts forever, both tranquil and Wuwei (non-action). The reason Heaven and Earth can endure is that the heart, too, should be like this. Because it does not live for itself or cling to its own life, the heart remains, and so it can live long. Originally, there is neither birth nor death. Thus the sage puts himself last and comes first: he is everywhere. He holds himself apart and so preserves himself. This has been true throughout the ages. Is this not because he has no selfishness? Heaven and Earth share their root with me, and all things share their substance with me. Thus I can fulfill myself through selflessness. I am Heaven and Earth, and Heaven and Earth are me.

Liao Cuiran says:

Heaven endures, and Earth lasts forever. Shen (spirit) arises from form, and form can bring Shen to completion. Form and spirit unite and continue without end. Heaven and Earth endure because form and spirit are united in immortality. “It does not live for itself”: without Shen, form cannot bring forth life; without form, Shen cannot take shape. Thus they can live long, continually giving rise to and completing one another. From ancient times to the present, their name has not disappeared. The sage takes charge and attends to affairs; I do the same. He puts himself last and comes first, and so his humility makes him honored and radiant. He holds himself apart and so preserves himself, withdrawing into hidden depths, like a hen brooding over an egg. Is this not because he is selfless? Originally without a self-centered mind, he finds companionship in the fulfillment of the many feelings and so can fulfill himself: when public affairs are accomplished, private affairs are accomplished too. Form and spirit are both wondrous, united with the Dao and in accord with truth.

Chen Bixu says:

“Heaven endures” is the heading. Heaven spreads broadly over all things through its Qi (vital energy), never collapsing from age to age; therefore it is said to endure. Earth bears all things through its substantial form, remaining firm from beginning to end; therefore it is said to last. The comparison that establishes the meaning is made in the passage that follows. “The reason Heaven and Earth can endure” poses a question; “because they do not live for themselves” explains it; “therefore they can live long” draws the conclusion.

Heaven remains clear for long, and Earth stays peaceful for ages, because they cover and sustain the myriad things and nurture all kinds of beings. Yet all receive their endowment from the subtle source. They return to emptiness and stillness, and return to the obscure and mysterious; they do not boast of their power to bring things into being, but keep to their constant De (Virtue/Power). Thus they can live long. Another interpretation is that the myriad things of Heaven and Earth each transform independently and receive their nature from what is natural. They do not seek to add to or profit their own lives, and so they can live long. This is a warning handed down to us.

Thus the sage puts himself last and comes first, and holds himself apart and so preserves himself. The sage practices Wuwei: though his body is in the court, his heart wanders on Mount Gushe, a realm of quiet and purity beyond the constraints of the self.

Plain-Language Interpretation

(On the sage taking Heaven and Earth as models)

The sage follows Heaven and Earth in “covering the sky, spreading over the land, and nurturing the myriad things”: he nourishes all equally, without favoritism. Though he has great De (Virtue/Power), he remains humble and takes the lower place, never daring to contend to be “first under Heaven.”

The people gladly support him, yet do not feel burdened. They choose him as their leader, and he does not grow weary of it. Thus, paradoxically, he is often able to take the lead.

He also forgets achievement and fame, puts his own interests aside, and has few personal desires. So the people love him as they love their parents, and the spirits protect him as they would an infant. In this way, he too keeps himself whole.

Is this not because he is free of selfishness that he is able to fulfill himself?

(The general meaning of various commentaries collected in the text)

Heaven and Earth bring forth and nurture the myriad things. The sage sets himself aside, turns outward, and makes the people’s welfare his priority. He does not parade his benevolence or use it to indulge his own interests. How could he truly be selfish? In fact, he is selfless. Precisely because he is selfless, he can endure; and because he endures, he comes to see how he can fulfill his own “private” good—that is, preserve himself and last.

Li Yue says: If someone does not keep benefits for himself but gives them to others, those others may not all gain their own advantage. Yet his own “private” good—his real benefit and lasting security—is achieved first.

The Honglie (an ancient text of the kind represented by the Huainanzi) explains this with the example of Gong Yixiu. As prime minister of the state of Lu, he loved fish but refused gifts of fish. A disciple asked him why. He replied that it was precisely because he loved fish that he refused them. If he accepted the fish and lost his position as a result, then, despite his love of fish, he would not be able to provide them for himself. By refusing the fish and keeping his position, he could provide them for himself over the long term. This shows that he understood the principles of acting for others and for oneself. Hence the saying: “Is it not because he is selfless that he can fulfill his own good?”

Xie Tunan says: Heaven lasts long, and Earth lasts long, so they can endure. Heaven is high and Earth is deep; their source is the Supreme Ultimate, and they extend to the Limitless. They may be called enduring and everlasting. Why? Heaven and Earth take the bringing forth of life as their purpose; they have never lived first for themselves. That is why they can endure. The sage takes the nurturing of the people as his purpose. He puts himself last, yet is always at the forefront; he sets himself aside, yet is always able to remain. That is why he can stand alongside Heaven and Earth. Is this not a case of being selfless and thereby fulfilling one’s own good?

Heaven and Earth do not live for themselves: this is selflessness. Yet the sun, moon, and stars are bound to Heaven, while Mount Hua, the rivers, and the seas rest upon Earth. Is this not “fulfilling their own good”? The sage does not act for himself: this is selflessness. Yet the state and the world are at peace, and the ancestral temples and altars of state are sustained. Is this not “fulfilling his own good”? The principle of utmost impartiality cannot be worn away. This is the Dao of lasting endurance.

[An Explanatory Reading in Plain Language]

The sage does not depart from this principle. Consider it: of all the principles under Heaven, there is only impartiality. Heaven covers all without favor, and Earth bears all without favor. A ruler serves the people by upholding impartiality. The Classic says: “Impartiality makes one a king; the king takes Heaven as his model; Heaven takes the Dao as its model; and the Dao endures.” Thus Heaven and Earth, along with the sage, stand together in the world through the single principle of utmost impartiality, and so last without end. Later generations stripped the people to enrich those above them, impoverishing others to fatten themselves. The brutal Qin scourged the Six Directions and unified the realm; the isolated Sui swallowed up the rebel bands and seized the Central Plain. They may be said to have achieved their aims, yet neither dynasty survived beyond its second generation. Their ancestral temples were not preserved, and their altars of soil and grain became ruins. The gains and losses of impartiality and selfishness can be seen from this.

Lin Yanzhai says: “Heaven and Earth endure for a long time; precisely because they do so, they can fulfill what is theirs.” This chapter uses Heaven and Earth to illustrate the sage’s lack of self-conscious intent. Heaven and Earth bring forth the myriad things spontaneously, without intending to do so, and thus a thousand years are like a single day to them. In cultivating himself, the sage has no self-conscious intent about what comes before or after, or what is within or without. Nothing can get ahead of him, and he remains in being. In this way, because he is selfless, he can fulfill what is his. The word “his” here refers to the sage himself; it does not mean “selfish” as opposed to “impartial.” If it meant selfishness in that sense, he could not be said to lack self-conscious intent. These words also express Laozi’s intention to encourage people to do good. When Buddhism later recast the idea, it no longer used such expressions, and called it “true emptiness and real existence.” “True emptiness” means being selfless; “real existence” means being able to fulfill what is one’s own. The phrasing is more elevated, as though it were a level above.

Fan Yingyuan says: “Heaven and Earth endure for a long time; precisely because they do so, they can live long.” Among things that have form, nothing endures as long as Heaven and Earth. Both arise from the Dao, and their ability to endure is due to their resting in selflessness and not augmenting their own life. That is why they live long. Heshang Gong says: “Heaven and Earth live on and enjoy long life, to serve as an example in teaching people. In this way, the sage reaches the Dao and his person remains.” The sage is humble and lowly, and does not contend with others to be first; people therefore honor him of their own accord. The sage does not contend or make himself an enemy of things, and so things cannot harm him. Is this not because he is selfless? Thus he can fulfill what is his. This means that the sage is humble and does not contend—not because he…

“Free from selfishness” means that he truly has no self-serving thoughts in his heart, and people naturally respect him.

“Nothing can harm him”: external things cannot injure him either. Because he harbors no selfish intent, he is instead able to fulfill what he seeks to preserve for himself.

When the sage speaks of “fulfilling what is private,” he does not mean favoritism or wrongful selfishness. The many look only to secure their own advantage first, so they can neither get ahead nor endure for long. The sage is humble and does not contend; for this reason, he can take the lead and endure.

Xue Yongzhai says: Heaven is long-lasting and Earth endures, and so they can “fulfill what is private.” Things with form and fixed limits decay as soon as they take shape. If Heaven and Earth were merely “form and limits,” how could they truly endure? They endure because they give rise to life without generating themselves, and thus can live on. Humility brings honor and radiance; what is lowly cannot be surpassed. By putting himself last, the sage comes first. He does not fix his mind on life and death, wealth and rank, and so his Shen (spirit) remains whole. By placing himself outside, he preserves himself. Yao yielded the empire to Xu You, and Shun yielded it to Shan Juan. It was precisely because they were free from selfishness that they fulfilled what was private.

Xiuxiu’an says: Heaven is long-lasting and Earth endures, and so they can “fulfill what is private.” Things with form cannot escape the four stages of formation, abiding, decay, and emptiness. Heaven and Earth endure not because they generate themselves. The One Qi unfolds and manifests as the Two Modes; true Qi moves without beginning or end, and so it can live on. The sage takes his place like Heaven and Earth. Only afterward does his embodied form with appearances emerge; when the Three Powers become manifest, the world takes shape. “Coming first” means that the numinous, luminous true nature existed before Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate). “Placing himself outside, he preserves himself” means that a person can establish the world without becoming attached to it; this is called the body beyond the world. The world will perish, but true nature does not. Because it is free from selfishness, true nature differs from other things, and thus can rightly fulfill what is private.

Chu Boxiu says: Heaven is long-lasting and Earth endures, and so they can “fulfill what is private.” Since primordial chaos first divided, the light and pure has risen, while the heavy and turbid has sunk. Being and nonbeing, Dao and its vessels, depend on one another and stand together; from ancient times to the present, generation and transformation have continued without cease. Thus they endure—all because Heaven lets things be as they are, without generating itself. If it generated itself, it would be selfish and unable to bring forth other things. How could it live on? The sage’s putting himself last and placing himself outside are simply ways of setting aside private interests for the common good, following Heaven and modeling himself on Earth to nourish the people and bring forth all things. He is humble, stays low, and does not dare to put himself first; he renounces credit and yields to those with ability. That is the principle at work.

Plain-Language Interpretation

Withdrawing oneself and yielding to others both mean “putting oneself last.” When the people of the world are willing to support someone, he cannot help but take the foremost place among them. Living on whatever chance provides, settling wherever one happens to be; keeping one’s resolve true; seeing waking life as a great dream; and regarding the body, in life and death, as no more than earth and wood—all of these express the idea of “treating oneself as external.” This is more admirable than “cherishing life”—loving life excessively and craving its pleasures—so this teaching, too, must be preserved.

When a noble person does good, it is simply what he is duty-bound to do. Why would he act in order to gain something? Heaven aids the good without the slightest trace of self-interest; it merely draws like to like, just as a sound echoes in an empty valley and a shadow follows the body. The sage follows the Dao of Heaven and has no selfish motives. He emulates the Dao’s nurturing of all things, fearing that even one thing might be left without its proper place. Thus Heaven’s aid and the protection of the spirits bring all kinds of blessings and good fortune to him. From the human point of view, it may seem that he is securing personal blessings for himself, but in truth they come from Heaven’s utmost impartiality. He can receive these blessings with a clear conscience. When a noble person is blessed, is it merely a personal honor? No: he passes those blessings on to the people and helps make Heaven and Earth’s great De shine more brightly. If one does good while harboring even the slightest private gain, it is not true goodness; in time, it may even lead toward evil. That is why one must be careful from the very beginning.

Niu Miaochuan says: Heaven lasts long and Earth endures, and so they can live forever. Heaven is formed by the accumulation of Yang; its function is to cover and protect through the ages without wearing away, so it is called “lasting.” Earth is formed by the accumulation of Yin; its function is to bear and support through countless kalpas without being destroyed, so it is called “enduring.” Why, then, can Heaven and Earth last and endure? Because they do not regard themselves as capable of lasting or enduring, they are able to last and endure. Because they do not regard themselves as capable of living forever, they are able to live forever.

Liezi says: There is life that does not give rise to life. The one that “does not give rise” can give life to all that lives; what “gives life to all that lives” cannot help but be born, and thus lives constantly. What lives constantly is always coming into being. The one that “does not give rise” seems solitary—solitary—and its Dao cannot be exhausted. Is this not what the passage means?

Thus the sage “puts himself last, and so comes first.” The sage is a truly humble noble person. Why? Did Confucius not say, “I can no longer see a sage; if I can see a noble person, that will do”? Not daring to take the lead, but putting oneself last—is that not the mark of a truly humble noble person? Lao Jun (Laozi) says: “Not daring to be first under Heaven,” one can become the chief of enduring vessels, holding a place that lasts. Confucius also says: “First put your words into practice, and then let others follow.”

Long ago, Hu Qiu Zilin said to Liezi: If you understand holding to the rear, you can understand how to hold yourself. Liezi said: I would like to hear what holding to the rear means. Hu Qiuzi replied: “Look back at your shadow,” and you will understand. An ancient saying goes: “Look back at your shadow, and you will know.” Seeing the shadow behind you reveals the meaning of “putting oneself last.”

Liezi once turned to observe his own shadow: when his body bent, the shadow curved; when his body stood straight, the shadow was upright. This shows that crookedness and straightness follow the shape of the body; they do not originate in the shadow. Bending and stretching, responding to things outside oneself, are not decided by “me,” either. This is what “holding to what comes after while remaining in front” means—is that the idea?

“Make the body external, and the body will endure”: The body is a physical form entrusted to us by Heaven and Earth. The Dao encompasses the four directions, and De embodies the five constant virtues. Humans are said to be the most spiritually endowed of all beings. Those who cherish themselves wisely set fame and achievement aside and keep the principles of Heaven in their hearts; only then can they protect their bodies, preserve their lives, and reach the end of their allotted years. If they flaunt their talents, seek to outdo others, and chase fame and achievement, they cannot avoid harm to their bodies. As the ancients said: straight trees are the first to be cut down, and sweet wells are the first to be drained. The elephant loses its life because of its tusks; the musk deer burns because of its scent. Zhuangzi said: those who achieve success are brought down, and those who attain fame are diminished. Whoever can cast off fame and achievement and live like everyone else can preserve themselves. Laozi said: those who set Heaven and Earth aside come to possess Heaven and Earth; those who set themselves aside live longer. This is what the saying means.

Nowadays, most gentlemen of the world endanger their bodies and abandon their lives. How sad! It is not because they have no self-interest that they are able to fulfill their “self-interest.” This passage describes how sages “put themselves last” and “make the body external”; it does not mean that everything comes from having no intention at all. When they are able to put themselves first and preserve themselves, thereby fulfilling the Way of the sage, they are in fact guided by their own convictions and act accordingly. That is why it says, “thus they are able to fulfill their self-interest.”

What is called selflessness means Wuwei (non-action); fulfilling one’s self-interest means action. In the world, nothing can be reached without going, or accomplished without doing. Wuwei is the substance of the sage; action is its function. Only when substance and function are both complete is the Way of the sage fulfilled. How could clinging to selflessness obstruct “fulfilling one’s self-interest”? If a person truly had no self-interest at all, how would they differ from a wooden or clay figure? Laozi said: if having no intention were the Dao, then having no intention would still leave a mountain between you and it. This means knowing only the substance and not its function.

Yang Zhiren said: Heaven endures and Earth lasts because they are able to “fulfill their self-interest.” Heaven is empty and still, so it endures; Earth is substantial and bears all things, so it lasts. Because they do not generate life for themselves, but live through the cycles of the sun and moon, they can live on. If Heaven did not turn, the sun and moon would not shine; if Earth were exhausted, nothing would grow. The human body is like this too.

“A person’s nature” can be understood as the foundation received from Heaven (the Heavenly Origin), while “life” is the support entrusted to Earth (the Earthly Foundation). If both nature and life are preserved, and one cultivates according to the method, one may endure as long as Heaven and Earth.

Thus, the noble person is humble and places himself behind others; people respect him, and in fact he comes to the fore. Only those who can cultivate a body beyond the physical body, and understand the spirit within spirit, the nature within nature, and the Dao within Dao, can “set the body aside”—not fixating on the private interests of the flesh—and thereby preserve themselves for the long term.

Do the sages not achieve this through fairness and selflessness? Thus, seeming to be “without self-interest” allows them to nourish themselves deeply and attain what might be called “self-interest”—the honor and longevity that come naturally, not the pursuit of personal gain.

The Doctrine of the Mean says: “Perfect sincerity is never-ending; when it ends, it stops. When it endures, it becomes evident; when evident, it reaches far; reaching far, it becomes broad and deep; broad and deep, it becomes high and bright. Its breadth and depth can sustain all things; its height and brightness can cover all things; its long duration can bring all things to completion. Its breadth and depth correspond to Earth; its height and brightness correspond to Heaven; its long duration is without end.”

Such a person need not seek to display himself, yet naturally shines; need not act rashly, yet naturally brings about change; and accomplishes things through Wuwei (non-action). The great Dao of Heaven and Earth can in fact be summed up in a single saying, as the following commentaries by Yu and Xu explain.

Heaven is long-lasting and Earth enduring, and so each “completes its own benefit”—it possesses longevity in its own right. Heaven moves with the Qi of the One Origin, giving birth to and transforming the myriad beings without interruption or rest; hence it is called “long-lasting.” Earth, with its substantial form, bears all things and remains constant, without loss or collapse; hence it is called “enduring.”

Why do they last so long? Because they bring forth and transform all things without claiming the achievement as their own. Things cannot live independently; they must draw on Heaven and Earth to be born. Heaven and Earth do not claim the birth of things as their achievement, but exist in life together with all things. Heaven and Earth bring all things to life; what lives together with all things is the true meaning of Heaven and Earth’s ceaseless generation. “Life” means long life: once we speak of what is “long,” what is “enduring” is already included.

The heart of Heaven and Earth is a heart of impartiality and vastness. The sage understands this impartial and vast heart: his body comes after Heaven and Earth, but his heart comes before them. To “put oneself behind and thereby come to the fore” is to avoid claiming what one already has as one’s own, and so to preserve it all. Is this not why one can “set the body aside and thereby preserve it”—because one first has no self-interest? To be without self-interest is to be impartial and broad. All under Heaven turns toward the one who has no self-interest; people come of their own accord, without being summoned. This may look like “self-interest,” as if one were gaining something for oneself, but in substance it is “impartiality.”

Heaven is long-lasting and Earth enduring, and so they live long. Heaven moves with the Qi of the One Origin… (The meaning is the same as in Yu’s commentary: uninterrupted movement makes Heaven “long-lasting,” while bearing all things without loss makes Earth “enduring.”)

Why do they last so long? Because they give life to things without claiming the achievement as their own. Things cannot generate themselves; they must depend on Heaven and Earth. Heaven and Earth do not claim the birth of things as their achievement, but live together with all things. Heaven and Earth give life to all things; what lives together with all things is what makes Heaven and Earth ceaselessly generative. To speak of “life” is to speak of long life; “long-lasting” already includes “enduring.”

The heart of Heaven and Earth is a heart of impartiality and vastness. The sage embodies this impartial and vast quality: his body comes after Heaven and Earth, while his heart comes before them. To “put oneself behind and thereby come to the fore” is not to claim what one has as one’s own, and so to preserve all that one has. To “set the body aside and thereby preserve it” is precisely to become capable of this through selflessness. Selflessness is impartiality and vastness. What Heaven’s mandate and the people’s hearts turn toward arrives naturally, without being sought. It may seem like “self-interest,” but in truth it is “impartiality.”

Terms such as “nature,” “life,” “Heavenly Origin,” “Earthly Foundation,” “body beyond the body,” and “spirit within spirit” are common in Neidan (internal alchemy) and the dual cultivation of nature and life. Broadly, they refer to not clinging to the physical form or the small self, but preserving one’s original nature, spiritual clarity, and the Dao. Both commentaries bring the Dao De Jing’s seventh chapter—“put oneself behind and thereby come to the fore; set the body aside and thereby preserve it”—into conversation with the Doctrine of the Mean’s teachings on “perfect sincerity,” “breadth and depth,” “height and brightness,” and “long duration.” Their central point remains: Heaven and Earth endure through selflessness; the sage follows their example and so advances by yielding, and realizes the public good through selflessness.

General Remarks on the Main Point of This Chapter

The discussion below elaborates on the chapter’s meaning. From “not living for itself,” we can infer that Heaven and Earth endure because they do not deliberately seek their own survival; they endure naturally. If Heaven and Earth set their minds on securing their own longevity, how could they truly last? Thus the sage “puts himself last, yet comes first”: by following Heaven and Earth in not living for himself, remaining humble and taking the rear position, he is instead raised to the front by all under Heaven. He “sets himself aside, yet preserves himself”: the sage understands that his body is not his own possession and does not burden it by clinging to life. He is detached and quiet, so external things can scarcely harm him. This does not mean deliberately treating the body as something outside himself; rather, this is what allows him to preserve himself. He achieves what is “his own” without relying on selfish motives. The sage’s being placed first and preserving himself come from following Heaven and Earth in not living for himself, not from calculations driven by self-interest. That is why he can achieve the “self” of being placed first and preserving himself.

Chai Yuangao says: Heaven and Earth endure without change because they simply fulfill their roles of covering and supporting all things. They give things form and appearance, allowing them to follow their nature. The sage “puts himself last, yet comes first”: he gives little to himself and much to others, and people naturally honor him. He sets himself aside for the benefit of things, and is not carried away by them. He does not act out of selflessness, yet reaches what is his own: by forgetting his own self-interest, he fulfills the self-interest of all things. In this way, the sage accords with the enduring way of Heaven and Earth.

Su Jingjing says: Heaven and Earth endure, and thus “achieve what is their own.” From ancient times to the present, everyone who has discussed endurance has known of Heaven and Earth, but not that their endurance truly arises from the Dao of the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate): Heaven and Earth themselves do not bring themselves into being. If they came into being alongside the myriad things, they would be only one thing among them—how could they live forever? Heaven and Earth stand above the myriad things and do not contend with them; therefore they can endure. The sage understands this: he always places himself behind all under Heaven and keeps his own person in the rear; he always takes all under Heaven into himself and sets his own person outside. To “come before all under Heaven” means that when the people are hungry, he does not dare to eat his fill before them; when they are cold, he does not dare to warm himself first. To “take all under Heaven into himself” means that he does not distance himself from them as though they were not his children, nor treat them as outsiders instead of brothers. Though the sage puts himself last, all under Heaven will surely raise him to the front.

The Vernacular Interpretation of Selected Passages from Collected Meanings of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue

On “Putting Oneself Last” and “Setting Oneself Aside”

The sage seems to put himself last, yet the people place his interests first. He seems not to concern himself with his own person, yet the people protect him. This is like Heaven and Earth: they do not live for themselves, and so they endure.

When the sage “puts himself last” and “sets himself aside,” he does not dare claim the benefits for himself first. Yet the people always want him to lead them and to remain safe and well. The sage wants to put himself behind others, but the people insist on pushing him forward; he does not want to look after himself first, but the people insist on protecting him. Is this not a way of “fulfilling his own private interest”? We can see from this that by not putting private gain first, one can in fact fulfill one’s own private interest.

The Lay Buddhist Benyi’an’s Commentary

Heaven and Earth endure because they can “fulfill their own private interest”—by bringing all things to completion, they complete themselves. People draw a sharp line between “self” and “things” and strive desperately to benefit themselves. Yet those who are fiercely selfish often fail to gain anything, while those who are not selfish end up benefiting themselves. This is a common principle.

Heaven and Earth treat all things by bringing them to life: wind and rain, thunder that stirs them, and sunlight and moonlight that illuminate them—all serve to bring forth and transform the myriad things. They turn without pause, and so they endure. When the sage governs the state, he reduces what is above and increases what is below, setting himself aside and following the people. The people grow prosperous; how could the ruler then be deprived? “There has never been a case of a benevolent person neglecting their parents, or a righteous person putting their ruler last.” What greater benefit could there be? If people understand this, they too can broaden their understanding of “selflessness” and promote a spirit of public-mindedness.

Shitan’s Commentary

Heaven and Earth endure because they do not live for themselves, and so they live long. The sage puts himself last and thereby comes to the fore; he sets himself aside and thereby preserves himself. Is this not a case of being free of selfishness and thus fulfilling one’s own private interest?

Commentators have explained this passage in different ways:

• The older interpretation: Heaven and Earth endure in the sense that, like human beings, they “live long and remain in view.”
• The more recent interpretation: Heaven and Earth simply bring all things to life and do not generate life for themselves. “Not living for themselves” means that they enable other things to live.
• An interpretation inferred from the following text: Both readings have merit. “Putting oneself last” and “setting oneself aside” emphasize bringing all things to life, while “coming to the fore” and “preserving oneself” emphasize living long and remaining in view. In the phrase “free of selfishness,” life means bringing things forth; in “fulfilling one’s own private interest,” it means living long and remaining in view.

This passage uses the word “life” to connect several ideas in Laozi’s Dao De Jing.

Understanding “threading everything together”:

Read in light of the surrounding passages, “not living for oneself” (不自生)—not living for one’s own sake or deliberately striving to stay alive—can paradoxically allow one truly to live. The “life” involved in the growth of all things is connected to “long life and lasting clarity” (长生久视). Although the creation and workings of Heaven and Earth cannot be defined simply by the ordinary sense of life and death, their enduring presence is a form of long life. In this reading, Laozi’s meaning is roughly this: Heaven and Earth bring forth all things without acting out of self-interest, and so endure; a person who lets go of selfish concerns in the pursuit of life, too, may endure.

Why does Laozi speak of “long life” here?

This passage should probably be read alongside a later chapter on “entering life and entering death” (出生入死). A person who is single-mindedly bent on staying alive may be like “pulling up seedlings to help them grow”: the effort harms what it means to help. This is “moving toward the place of death” (动之死地)—acting recklessly and heading toward ruin. Only by following the teaching of the chapter on the Valley Spirit—“continuous, as though it remains; use it, and it is never exhausted” (绵绵若存，用之不勤)—can one attain long life naturally: without making the relentless pursuit of life one’s aim.

Brief explanations of key terms:

“Not living for oneself” (不自生) means living without acting from selfish desire or forcing oneself to stay alive. “Long life and lasting clarity” (长生久视) means enduring life and sustained discernment; in Daoism it often refers to a state sought through cultivation. The “Valley Spirit chapter” (谷神章) usually refers to Chapter Six of the Dao De Jing, which begins “The Valley Spirit never dies.” It uses the valley as an image of emptiness and the maternal, while “spirit” refers to the power of life. “Entering life and entering death” (出生入死) is a common title for a later chapter that discusses why people gravitate toward life and avoid death, and relates to the saying “three out of ten.”