《道德真經集義(二)》Vol. 13

Collected Meanings of the True Scripture of the Dao and De, Volume 13, Part Two

A Plain-Language Reading of the Chapter “The Highest Good Is Like Water”

Editors: Compiled by Master Ningyuan and Liu Weiyong, formerly Gentleman of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, Registrar of the Court of the Imperial Treasury, and Compiler of the Privy Council; collated by Ding Yidong, formerly Gentleman of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, Registrar of the Court of the Imperial Treasury, and Compiler of the Privy Council.

Main Idea of the Chapter (Editors’ Note)

This chapter explains that when a perfected person follows the way of softness and weakness, they will make no mistakes. It begins with “like water” to show that the “three abilities” approach the Dao (the Way). It then speaks of “dwelling in low places,” describing how the “seven excellences” benefit all things. It concludes with “not contending,” urging people to preserve softness in order to achieve complete victory.

Textual variants: In the version by Heshanggong, this chapter is titled “Changing One’s Nature”; in the version by Zhao Shian, it is titled “Softness, Compliance, and Benefit.”

Commentary by Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (Summary)

The preceding chapter discusses how Heaven and Earth are impartial and how their generation of the myriad things endures. This chapter says that a perfected person who practices softness and weakness will therefore have no fault. It begins with “like water” to show that the “three abilities” are close to the Dao; next, it speaks of “dwelling in low places,” describing how the “seven excellences” benefit things; and it ends with “not contending,” urging people to preserve softness and thereby achieve complete victory.

Du Guangting’s Explanation

Water’s De (Virtue/Power) lies in its softness and weakness, its evenness and calm, its readiness to follow and its willingness to remain below. It adapts to the moment, whether blocked or released, and takes the shape of whatever vessel contains it. It flows as springs and sources, and disperses as mist and dew. All things die without water and live with it. Strike it and it is not harmed; try to grasp it and it cannot be held. Water falls short of the Dao because water has form, while the Dao is formless. Though its form imposes a limit, in its virtue of benefiting things and its use of humble openness, water is already close to the Dao. The Lord Lao offers water as an example to encourage those who cultivate the Dao: embody the “seven excellences” and “three abilities,” cultivate oneself and govern the state, and practice the virtue of not diminishing or contending. In this way, one will commit no faults.

Zhang Chongying’s Explanation

“Nature” here means the habits a person develops as they grow up. People are born by receiving the Qi (vital energy) of Heaven and Earth, and are originally without any lack of goodness. But as they are born and grow, emotions disturb them; when the five desires stir, their nature becomes increasingly unkind. Thus people depart from the Dao and become trapped, without knowing to turn back. The purpose of this chapter is to encourage people to change the nature formed by their habits and prevent it from running unchecked, so that they may advance toward the Dao.

The Scripture (Summary of Chapter Eight)

The highest good is like water. Water excels at nourishing all things without contending with them for superiority. It willingly remains in low places that people generally avoid, and so is closest to the Dao.

In choosing where to dwell, excel at selecting a place.

In the heart’s state, excel at being deep as an abyss.

In relationships, excel at kindness toward others.

In speech, excel at keeping faith.

In government, excel at good governance.

In carrying out tasks, excel at using your abilities.

In action, excel at choosing the right moment.

Precisely because one does not contend, there is no resentment or fault.

Textual variants: “And does not contend” is also found as “And again does not contend”; “among the people” is also found as “with the people”; some versions add the particle “indeed” after “therefore is close to the Dao”; “good at governing” is also found as “good at being upright” or “good at ordering.”

Commentary by Lord Heshanggong

“Supreme goodness is like water”: A person of the highest virtue is like water in its nature.

Water is good at nourishing all things without competing with them for gain. In the sky, it appears as mist and dew; on earth, as springs and streams. It always dwells in low, damp, and dirty places that others are unwilling to inhabit. People dislike low, wet, and filthy places, but water flows quietly and rests there. Thus it is “almost like the Dao”—close to the Dao. Water’s nature is like this: it is good at choosing low places to dwell. Water prefers the surface of the earth, flowing down from the heights of grasses and trees. It also resembles the feminine, moving in yielding compliance and flowing downward. The heart is good at being deep and still like an abyss: water is deep and open, while an abyss is deep and clear. Being with the good is like benevolence: all things grow by relying on water. It accords with emptiness and does not compete with fullness. Speech is good at keeping its word: water reflects forms and shadows within itself without losing its true nature. Governance is good at being clear and impartial: nothing it touches is not washed clean, clarified, and made level. Handling affairs is good at adapting: it can be square or round, and takes the shape of what is straight or curved. Action is good at being timely: it disperses in summer and freezes in winter, moving with the four seasons and never missing the proper time. Precisely because it does not compete, it stops when blocked and flows when released, following the course people guide it along; therefore it has no blame or resentment. Water is like this, and so there is no resentment toward it in all under heaven.

Commentary by Wang Bi

From “Supreme goodness is like water” to “what the multitude detest”: The multitude detest low places, so it is said that water is “almost like the Dao.” The Dao itself has no name or form called “water,” so the text says “almost,” meaning close to it, rather than saying “it is.” From “in dwelling, it is good at choosing its place” to “therefore it has no blame”: Water accords with the Dao in all these respects, and so it is said to have no blame.

Commentary by Emperor Xuanzong of Tang

“Supreme goodness is like water”: To explain the merit of the Perfected One’s supreme goodness, the text uses the image of water, whose nature is close to the Dao. In the commentary: “Supreme goodness” refers to the person; “like water” is the comparison. The Perfected One keeps an open mind toward the teachings, remains unattached and unbound, and forgets even the words for goodness—thus goodness reaches its highest level. “Supreme goodness is like water”: the following passages describe how one acts with the capacities of water, all of them expressing the teaching through metaphor.

From “Water is good at benefiting” to “what the multitude detest”: Water is sweet, deep, and vast by nature. It sprinkles and moistens everything; all things receive its nourishment and grow. Hence it is called “good at benefiting”—the first capacity. Nothing under heaven is softer and weaker than water. It offers a model of levelness, is clear enough to serve as a mirror, and follows the current to settle in low places. Wherever people direct it, it never competes to prevail—the second capacity. What water dislikes is dwelling in the lower reaches. The multitude usually seek high places, but water goes to low places, accepting turbidity and refusing none of the foul—the third capacity.

“Therefore, it is almost like the Dao”: “Almost” means close. In the commentary: Benefiting things shows its broad and great usefulness; not competing shows its softness and weakness; dwelling in foul places shows that it can bear impurities. These are the three capacities of water.

The sage has always practiced in this way, and so remains close to the Dao (the Way). Hence the text says “close.”

In dwelling, be good at choosing low ground: A person of supreme goodness places themselves in a humble, yielding position, like water that settles low and nourishes all things. Water naturally flows downward; wherever the perfected person resides, they bring benefit, just as water nourishes all things on the land. The way of the earth makes use of what is low, and water naturally flows downward. This corresponds to the humble, yielding softness of the perfected person, which accords with the nature of the Dao. Hence the text says, “In dwelling, be good at choosing low ground.”

In the heart, be deep and still: Keep the heart deep and quiet, like a still, deep pool. The perfected person is adept at quietude, like clear water or a motionless spring-fed pool. Still water is clear; an untroubled heart is perceptive. Springs are deep and still. Hence the text says, “In the heart, be deep and still.”

In relating to others, be good at kindness: Give in a way that accords with supreme benevolence, like water that nourishes all things. Supreme benevolence seeks broadly to help others, and its giving is a constant practice of kindness in accord with benevolence. Like water, it nourishes without preference or aversion. Hence the text says, “In relating to others, be good at kindness.”

In speech, be good at truthfulness: Speak truthfully, like water that remains true to its nature even as it passes through dangerous terrain. A person of supreme goodness speaks truthfully and guides ordinary people toward transformation, offering trustworthy words without deception. A spring does not change its course merely because it encounters a difficult ravine. Hence the text says, “In speech, be good at truthfulness.”

In governance, be good at bringing order: Govern skillfully, like water that washes all things clean. Governance means setting things right. The perfected person responds to affairs through Wuwei (non-action), with uprightness that awakens understanding in others. Others follow what is right, and when things are set right, order arises of itself. What could be better than this? Water, by its nature, washes all things clean. Hence the text says, “In governance, be good at bringing order.”

In action, be good at using one’s abilities: Handle affairs skillfully by adapting, like water, which takes the shape of its vessel and does not become attached to any form. The perfected person understands things fully and meets them without obstruction. Whatever arises in the course of action, they can respond to it; this is skill grounded in clear understanding. Water can be directed into a river or held back to form a lake; it can carry a boat and fill open spaces. There is nothing it cannot do. This is skill in action.

In movement, be good at timing: Act at the right moment, like water that thaws in spring and freezes in winter. The perfected person’s heart is like an empty valley and like a mirror: when things make contact, it responds. Like water, it thaws in spring and freezes in winter, changing with the seasons. Hence the text says, “In movement, be good at timing.”

Because one does not contend, one incurs no blame: A person of supreme goodness keeps an open heart and yields to things, like water. When blocked, it stops; when given an outlet, it flows. Because it does not contend, it arouses no resentment or blame.

First section (on “having no fault”)

Because one does not oppose the myriad things, one does not fall into a state of excess or error. The commentary says that “fault and excess” means mistakes or going too far. The Perfected Person acts kindly without harming anything, remains open-hearted and yielding, and seeks wholeness by bending rather than contending with others. Like water flowing downhill, they follow the natural course and never go against the myriad things. Thus there is nothing to blame them for and no fault to find.

Second section (Du Guangting’s explanation of “The highest good is like water”)

Du Guangting says: “The highest good is like water.” Those who cultivate the highest good embody the Dao and cultivate the mind; they adapt to changing circumstances and, wherever they go, benefit the myriad things. Lao Jun (Laozi) wished to make the virtue of the highest good clear and so encourage later students. Water is used as a metaphor because it is close to the Dao. The highest good is good without taking itself to be good, just as water does not boast of its achievements. Water does not claim credit, and its achievements are all the greater; goodness does not display itself, and so it shines all the more. To be both great and evident is the highest form of goodness. From rulers who sit facing south in honor to recluses who dwell among the cliffs, all who can be like water will surely attain the Dao.

Third section (analogy and model: water’s virtue, the Five Phases, and “the function of the Dao”)

“Analogy and model” means using water as an analogy, taking the Dao as the model, and regarding the highest adepts as those capable of putting it into practice. Water is good at nourishing things, yet willingly dwells in the low places that others dislike. Here, “dislike” means being unwilling to go there, not “evil” in the sense of good and evil. Is sweetness the taste of water? Is depth its substance? (Note: In the traditional Five Phases, water is usually associated with a salty taste; this passage may follow a variant reading in its source.) Water is the mother of Qi. It flourishes in the north; its virtue lies in moistening and descending; its color is black, its nature is wisdom, its taste is salty, and its number is six. The north is where Yang virtue begins and Yin Qi ends. Its generating number is one, which it shares with the Dao: the Dao is also one, the “one of no-one”; water is also one, the “one of there being one.” The “one of no-one” is the substance of the Dao; the “one of there being one” is the function of the Dao. From this we can understand that water is the function of the Dao. All kinds of beings depend on being moistened in order to come into being. Because it moistens and gives rise to the myriad things, water takes the highest place among the three capacities (or three virtues).

Fourth section (softness and weakness, fairness and forbearance, and “non-contention”)

Softness and weakness are water’s virtues. Chapter 41 of the Dao De Jing says that nothing under Heaven is softer and weaker than water, and invokes water’s virtue to encourage people to remain yielding. Water does not flow across level ground; this can serve as a model for taking fairness and forbearance as one’s foundation. When water does not flow, it is still; in stillness it can reflect things. Hence the saying, “People do not use flowing water as a mirror, but use still water,” because it is clear and still. Water’s nature is level: when it meets uneven ground, it moves on; when it meets a hollow or a pool, it comes to rest. It goes east, west, north, or south according to where it is directed, and contends with no one; there is nowhere it cannot go. When the virtues are weighed, water is also said to… (the text continues in the next section of the original scroll).

Reading notes

• The highest good is like water: The highest goodness is like water: it benefits others, dwells in low places, does not contend, and remains yielding.
• The places everyone dislikes: These are low, damp places that people are unwilling to occupy. Water is willing to dwell there, offering an image of the sage who “prevails through non-contention.”
• The “one of no-one” / the “one of there being one”: These are metaphysical terms in the commentary. The former points toward the Dao’s underlying nature, which cannot be grasped as a particular thing; the latter points toward the Dao’s manifestation and function. Water is described as the latter: the Dao’s nourishing function as it operates among the myriad things.

A Commentary on “Nearly Attaining the Dao” and Governing the State and Cultivating the Self

(The passage above discusses water’s De.) This therefore comes after the second ability. As for human nature, many people follow ordinary inclinations and go along with the crowd; few are humble and yielding. Most people like to occupy high positions and dislike being in lowly places. Water alone settles low without competing and dwells amid impurity without being defiled. Compared with the De discussed earlier, that earlier De is superior, so this is listed as the third ability. Thus, “nearly attaining the Dao” means that, by possessing the three abilities described above, one comes close to the Great Dao.

If a ruler can promote and augment De, maintain a humble and receptive mind, and understand the practice of enduring humiliation and bearing disgrace, then peace can prevail throughout the land. Those who cultivate themselves may hope to attain the Way of the immortals by benefiting all things through their achievements, tempering their dispositions with gentleness, and living in a troubled world in harmony with its customs while remaining humble and unassuming.

Find a good place to dwell

This explains how settling low and being content with a humble position can serve as a way to secure the state and preserve oneself. Heaven is clear and light, so it dwells above; Earth is turbid and substantial, so it rests below. The Book of Changes says, “Heaven is exalted and Earth is lowly; thus the high and low are set in order.” It also says that Earth’s way is lowly, yet rises upward. Water flows downward and settles in low places, embodying the humble De of the Perfected One.

Keep the heart deep and still

This explains how clarity, stillness, and emptiness can serve as a method for cleansing oneself and purifying the heart. The saying, “My heart is like water, while my gate is like a marketplace,” conveys this meaning.

Be kind in giving

This explains how nourishing all things can be a practice of generous giving and helping the many. “The more one does for others, the more one has; the more one gives to others, the more one gains”—this expresses the same principle.

Be trustworthy in speech

This explains how honesty and freedom from deceit can be taught as the constant and reliable truth. The Book of Changes, in its “Kan” hexagram, says, “Repeated Kan: doubled danger. Water flows on without filling, and moves through danger without losing its trustworthiness.” In governing the state and caring for the people, and in leading oneself and following the Dao, one’s words must be trustworthy. They can then move Heaven and Earth and stir the spirits. Thus, words of good or evil spoken within a single room may find their response a thousand miles away—this is trustworthiness at its utmost. Confucius said to give up food and weapons, but preserve trust. How important trustworthiness is!

Govern well

This explains how truth, rectitude, and the nurturing transformation of all things can serve as a method for shedding the ordinary and becoming a sage.

Upright bearing awakens understanding of things

In the Zhuangzi, “Tian Zifang,” Tian Zifang, whose given name was Wuze, was seated in attendance on Marquis Wen of Wei. The marquis regarded Zixia as his teacher and Zifang as his friend. Zifang repeatedly praised the Way of Xigong, and the marquis assumed that Xigong was Zifang’s teacher. Zifang said, “No. He is a fellow villager of mine, and because his words are often apt, I praise him. My teacher is Dongguo Shunzi. As for his character…”

Collected Meanings of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue (II): A Plain-Language Interpretation

A True Person has a composed appearance and a quiet, empty heart. By keeping to purity and stillness, they can embrace all things without imposing a fixed way upon them.

With proper bearing, they awaken others and dispel the harmful thoughts in their hearts. They neither choose deliberately nor force their influence upon things. This is what it means to have attained the Dao.

As the saying goes, when all things lose the Dao, they cannot transform themselves. Dongguo Shunzi, a Daoist figure, composed his bearing and joined his heart in stillness with the Dao. When all things saw him, they awakened of themselves and their harmful thoughts vanished. This may be called “transforming without speaking” and “moving things without transforming them.” That is the true Dao.

“In handling affairs, be capable” means responding flexibly to circumstances and allowing things to follow their natural course. This is the power of adaptability.

Water can be square or round, changing to suit its vessel. It can be dammed or released according to the moment. Thus it can bear boats and float across the sea; it is both vast and deep.

A great person or noble gentleman governs with ease, letting their robes hang and their hands rest together. They entrust affairs to capable people and trust them in their work. When each person fulfills their role, one can govern through Wuwei (non-action) and attain peace and stability.

“In movement, be timely” means that advance and retreat should accord with the circumstances. It is a warning to uphold the Dao and preserve life.

“Thawing and dispersal” refers to the spread of Yang Qi in spring, when hard ice melts, and to the freezing of flowing water in winter’s bitter cold. Water follows the seasons. In governing a state and cultivating oneself, one should likewise expand or withdraw according to the time and follow the nature of things. In this way, one accords with the highest principle and preserves life.

“Because one does not contend, one has no fault”: the virtue of not contending comes first among the virtues.

Human nature is not free from contention. Contention arises in many ways: rebellion leads to contention; violence and arrogance lead to contention; anger leads to contention; extravagance leads to contention; conceit leads to contention; the desire to win leads to contention; defiance and disruption lead to contention; striving for advancement leads to contention; courage and cowardice lead to contention; love and hatred lead to contention; self-will leads to contention; and the favor of the powerful leads to contention.

If a ruler possesses even one of these failings, they will raise armies throughout the realm. If a feudal lord possesses even one, armies will clash within their territory. If a high minister possesses even one, disorder will overtake their household. If a scholar or commoner possesses even one, they will bring harm upon themselves.

All of this begins with failing to think, violating ritual and law, being without fear, and refusing to tolerate others. From these things, contention arises. When people contend over a city, the dead fill its streets; when they contend over land, the dead cover the fields. One must examine where contention begins and block its causes; then nothing will remain out of order.

An old saying goes, “The gentleman has nothing to contend for.” Another says, “Among those who are ugly, do not contend.” A later passage says, “The way of the sage is to act without contending.” What fault is there in the virtue of not contending?

Notes on the concluding terms:

• The empty-hearted person: one whose heart is empty and free of desire.
• The one who bends to completion: one who yields for the sake of bringing others to completion.
• The one who flows like a wave: one who follows their nature and is at ease, like water flowing and turning.
• The one who is unrestrained: one who moves freely without obstruction and does not cling to any one corner.

I. Zhuangzi’s “Yielding to the Natural Course” in “Responding to Emperors and Kings”

In “Responding to Emperors and Kings,” Zhuangzi says that the myriad things are in constant change, and the affairs of the world flow like waves; no moment is exactly the same as the one before it. Yielding to the natural course means entrusting the heart to the Dao and following its way, rather than struggling against the currents of the times. To understand “highest goodness” in this way, and to possess those three capacities—often taken to mean wisdom, benevolence, and courage, or comparable forms of cultivation—is the key to the security of the state and the long life of its people.

II. The Song emperor’s discussion of “Highest Goodness Is Like Water”

The Song emperor said, “‘Highest goodness is like water’—the highest good resembles water.” The Yijing says, “The interaction of Yin and Yang is called the Dao.” What carries on the Dao is called “goodness.” Zhuangzi also says that once one departs from the Dao and treats “goodness” as a name in its own right, establishing that name divides and diminishes the Dao in its entirety.

Heaven’s One gives birth to water. Water is not far from the Dao: deep yet empty, still yet clear, it gathers the most refined Qi in the world. That is why the ancients said that the highest goodness is like water.

III. How water “comes close to the Dao”

Water is skillful at benefiting the myriad things, and so it comes close to the Dao:

• As rain and dew, it moistens all kinds of life.
• As frost and snow, it brings forth the myriad treasures, including crops and the seasons.
• As rivers and streams, lakes and marshes, it forms deep springs and vast seas. It can be drawn from and can store what it receives, giving life to the myriad things without being exhausted, and benefiting them all.

Among the myriad things, what benefits them better than water? All receive its grace, yet water remains in a yielding, humble position. It accepts filth and bears impurities without taking pride in itself. Its heart is unburdened, and so, in relation to the Dao, it is said to be “near.”

IV. The seven correspondences of water’s De, in plain language

• In its dwelling, it is good at finding low places: It moves underground, flowing without overflowing.
• In its heart, it is good at depth: The more deeply one probes it, the deeper it proves; the further one follows it, the farther it reaches.
• In its giving, it is good at benevolence: It cares for all without selfishness, giving without choosing whom to benefit.
• In its words, it is good at trustworthiness: It avoids obstacles yet finds its way to the sea; it passes through dangerous places without betraying its nature.
• In its governance, it is good at bringing order: It cleans what is dirty and levels what is treacherous. It follows the natural course of things and has no selfish intent, so nothing is left in disorder.
• In its work, it is good at adapting: It bends or runs straight according to the terrain, takes a square or round shape according to its vessel, and changes without limit while remaining able to make things level.
• In its movement, it is good at timing: In Yang, it melts and flows; in Yin, it congeals into ice. If released to the east, it flows east; if released to the west, it flows west. It moves without stagnating, and its virtue lies in adapting to the time.

Precisely because it does not contend, it incurs no blame.

V. The sage: cultivating the self and benefiting things

The sage embodies the Dao. Cultivating the self is the way to endure; caring for all and benefiting things, the sage nevertheless remains in a place where there is no contention.

Zhuangzi also says: Is it easy to act with deliberate intent? What is easy is the path of Wuwei (non-action), like the heavens, which should not be disturbed by rash action. To act without forcing things and thereby make few mistakes is easier; to act deliberately and remain free of harm is harder. To benefit things through deliberate action and still incur no blame is harder yet. The highest goodness benefits things as water naturally does: it benefits them and still does not contend.

Brief notes on key terms

General Meaning of the Passage

Choose what benefits you. Do not contend with things, and then nothing can contend with you; thus you will be free of fault. That is why it is said: Nothing in the world is softer and weaker than water, yet nothing is better than water at overcoming what is hard and strong.

Wang Anshi’s Interpretation

The highest good is like water. A good person can carry on the spirit of the Dao, but cannot yet embody it fully. Thus the person of supreme goodness is like water.

Water is good at nourishing all things, and all things grow because of water. Yet water is by nature extremely yielding and weak, which is why it is said not to contend. People like what is high and dislike what is low, but water stays in the low places that people dislike.

To dwell well means to choose low-lying places. To have a good heart means to be deep and still. To treat others well means to give without seeking repayment. To speak well means to be trustworthy, like water that, however much it twists and turns, always flows east. To govern well means to rule effectively: the utmost softness overcomes the utmost hardness in the world. To handle affairs well means to adapt: when it meets a square shape, it becomes square; when it meets a round shape, it becomes round. To act well means to follow the right time: it melts in spring and freezes in winter.

Su Zhe’s Interpretation

The highest good is like water; for this reason, it comes close to the Dao. The Book of Changes says: “One Yin and one Yang—this is called the Dao. What carries it on is goodness; what brings it to completion is nature.” It also says: “Heaven, through the number one, generates water.” The Dao moves and gives rise to goodness, just as Qi moves and gives rise to water. That is why it is said that the highest good is like water.

Both begin in the formless and eventually take shape, so their underlying principle is the same. The Dao is everywhere and benefits all; water is the same. Yet once it has taken on a form, it is separated from the Dao to some degree. That is why it is said to come close to the Dao. Still, nothing that can be called good surpasses water, and so it is called the highest good.

To dwell well means to avoid high places and move toward low ones, never going against the terrain. This is dwelling well. To have a good heart means to be empty, still, and unfathomably deep. This is depth of heart. To treat others well means to nourish all things and give without seeking repayment. This is benevolence. Where it is round, water turns; where it is square, it bends; where it is blocked, it stops; where there is an opening, it flows. This is trustworthiness. It washes away filth and levels high and low places. This is good governance. It takes the shape of whatever it encounters without remaining fixed in one form. This is ability. It freezes in winter and melts in spring; whether water dries up or overflows, it does not miss the proper season. This is acting at the right time.

Precisely because water does not contend, it is free of fault. Those who have goodness yet cannot avoid being criticized by others do so because they contend. Water does not contend; therefore, it possesses all seven forms of goodness and remains free of fault.

Lü Jifu’s Interpretation

The highest good is like water. The Book of Changes says: “One Yin and one Yang—this is called the Dao. What carries it on is goodness; what brings it to completion is nature.”

Lü Jifu’s interpretation follows a line of thought similar to Su Zhe’s, emphasizing how water and the Dao are connected through the principle by which Yin and Yang generate things.

Plain Language Interpretation

The highest goodness is like water: The “goodness” being described here is goodness as understood by the Dao itself, not the kind of “goodness” generally approved of by the world. That is why Laozi uses water as a comparison: water benefits all things by nourishing them, so it is closest to the Dao.

Water is good at benefiting all things without contention, and willingly stays in low places that others dislike. The highest goodness is the same. Yet stopping at this level is not enough to truly embody the Dao; it is only “close to the Dao.”

• In dwelling, goodness lies in the ground: Rivers and seas can become rulers of the valleys because they lie downstream, in low places. The goodness of dwelling, then, lies in willingly taking a low position, like the earth.
• In the heart, goodness lies in depth: The waters where the legendary great fish Nihuán swims are deep, and are called abysses. Still water is deep, and flowing water is deep too. The goodness of the heart lies in being quiet and profound, like an abyss.
• In relationships, goodness lies in benevolence: A vessel, once full, does not overflow; what is drawn from it does not run dry. The goodness of dealing with others lies in being generous and inexhaustible, like benevolence.
• In speech, goodness lies in trustworthiness: Even when acting in perilous circumstances, one does not break faith. The goodness of speech lies in keeping one’s word.
• In governance, goodness lies in bringing order: Water gathers into rivers and valleys, then ultimately flows into the sea. The goodness of governing lies in being able to bring things under order and draw them together. Nothing in the world is softer and weaker than water, yet nothing surpasses it in overcoming the hard and strong. Thus the goodness of action lies in accomplishing things and making things work.
• In action, goodness lies in timing: Springs gush forth without pause, day and night, filling one place before flowing onward. The goodness of action lies in responding to the right moment.

In short, because water does not contend, it incurs no resentment or blame. The key is to take non-contention as the foundation and lowliness as the root. That is why it is said: “Only because it does not contend can it be beyond reproach; thus no one under Heaven can contend with it for precedence.”

Wang Yuanze says: The highest goodness is like water. Water is foremost among the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). It passes from emptiness into material existence and is not far from the Dao; its nature is closest to the Dao. Only once it departs from the Dao does the category of “goodness” arise. The highest goodness being like water is a natural principle of Heaven, Earth, and all things.

Water is good at nourishing, so it is close to the Dao. Human beings have a heart, and the heart belongs to Fire. Fire rises upward and shines, so people are often fond of contention. Only by directing one’s aspirations toward the Dao and bringing the heart into accord with it can one free oneself from external things, become free of intention, and prevail over things.

• In dwelling, goodness lies in flowing downward.
• In the heart, goodness lies in being deep, quiet, and level, clear within and subdued without.
• In governance, goodness lies in following the principle of Heaven rather than private feelings, and in accumulating softness until it becomes weighty.
• In action, goodness lies in adapting as things change; thus nothing is beyond one’s ability.
• In movement, goodness lies in timing: water flows when channels are opened and stops when they are blocked. It neither tries to get ahead of things nor misses the right moment.

Because it does not contend, it incurs no resentment or blame. Water is undivided in its essential nature, and nothing can obstruct it. Thus it embodies all the forms of goodness described above: it bestows De (Virtue/Power) on all things while continually keeping to goodness.

Plain-Language Interpretation

(Following the earlier discussion of “lower things”) Therefore, it is said that a person of De can transform all things. But if one is always thinking, “I want to accumulate De,” one cannot attain true De. For this reason, the end of this chapter restates the same principle.

Liu Zhongping says: “‘The highest goodness is like water.’ Leaving nonbeing and entering being, it dwells where people are unwilling to go and does not contend; it benefits all things. Water’s function comes closest to this. If the ‘highest goodness’ deliberately sets out to imitate something, it has already established a name for itself. So water can only be called ‘like’ it. There are also sayings such as ‘In giving, be kind’ and ‘In governing, be effective.’ Water, as a thing, has no ‘governing’ to speak of. Why, then, say ‘In words, be trustworthy; in governing, be effective’? Because this passage discusses ‘the good person as like water’ and attributes ‘words’ and ‘governing’ to the good person as well. ‘In action, be timely’ means that De takes form in water, and goodness is fulfilled within oneself. The good is goodness itself. Thus: in dwelling, goodness means being at ease in one’s place; in the heart, goodness means abiding in the depths; in giving, goodness means sharing one’s kindness evenly; in speech, goodness means keeping one’s word; in one’s work, goodness means applying one’s abilities; in action, goodness means following the right time. ‘In action, be timely’ is placed among these because action is good when it follows the time. The Book of Documents also says, ‘Consider what is good before acting; in acting, follow the proper time.’ The Book of Songs praises Nan Zhong’s campaign against the western tribes, saying, ‘The grass insects chirp; the locusts leap on the mound’—this too means that when he acted, others responded in harmony. If he had not acted at the right time, how could things have reached this point?”

Liu Jiji says: “‘The highest goodness is like water.’ The Book of Changes says, ‘What follows the Dao is goodness’; the Zhuangzi says, ‘Depart from the Dao, and there is goodness.’ Both mean that, descending from the Dao, nothing comes closer than goodness. Goodness that does not regard itself as possessing goodness is the highest goodness, as with the goodness of highest De. Water is good at benefiting all things, and so it comes close to the Dao. The Dao gives birth to the One, and the One gives birth to water; water too is therefore close to the Dao, which is why the text says that the highest goodness is like water. Water’s De is to moisten, and this is called benefit; its goodness lies in acting at the right time, and this is called not contending; its flowing downward is called dwelling in a place people dislike. To benefit others without boasting or seeking credit is like benefiting all things without contending; to place oneself low is like dwelling where people dislike being. The Dao, too, benefits all things without contending and dwells where people dislike being. Water resembles it; water is like the Dao, and the highest goodness is like water. This is why it comes close to the Dao.

“In dwelling, goodness means taking the low place as one’s home; water takes the low ground as its place. Goodness thus attains water’s ‘place,’ which is why the text says, ‘In dwelling, be good at choosing your place.’

“In the heart, goodness means stillness and calm; water has the deep stillness of an abyss. Goodness thus attains water’s abyss, which is why the text says, ‘In the heart, be good at being deep.’

“In giving, in speech, in trustworthiness, and so on … (Following the structure of the original text, goodness finds its fitting expression in kindness, trust, work, and action, consistently with the idea that the highest goodness is like water.)”

Note: The latter part of the original, at phrases such as “In giving, be kind” and “In speech, be trustworthy,” is compared with corresponding lines in the received text of the Dao De Jing. Some collected editions omit characters. The translation above follows the text provided, retaining proper terms and names such as “highest goodness,” Dao, the One, and Nan Zhong, with brief explanations where useful.

Plain-Language Interpretation

This passage explains “The highest goodness is like water” from the Dao De Jing, followed by the seven qualities of goodness: “in dwelling, goodness lies in the place; in the heart, goodness lies in depth; in giving, goodness lies in benevolence; in speech, goodness lies in trustworthiness; in government, goodness lies in good order; in affairs, goodness lies in ability; in action, goodness lies in timeliness.”

On the general idea of “using water as a metaphor for goodness”

To teach that benevolence means “benefiting others,” the text points to how water nourishes all things without claiming credit. In matters of goodness, we can learn this benevolence from water; hence, “in giving, goodness lies in benevolence.”

To take “not deceiving” as the meaning of sincerity, the text points out that water passes through dangerous places without failing to keep faith. In matters of goodness, we can learn water’s trustworthiness; hence, “in speech, goodness lies in trustworthiness.”

To take correcting oneself and helping things each find their proper place as the meaning of government, the text points to how water can stir and clear muddy water: this is good order. In matters of goodness, we can learn water’s way of bringing order; hence, “in government, goodness lies in good order.”

To take adapting to things as the meaning of handling affairs, the text points out that water takes a round shape when it meets something round and a square shape when it meets something square, without becoming stuck. This is ability. In matters of goodness, we can learn water’s ability; hence, “in affairs, goodness lies in ability.”

To take acting in keeping with what is appropriate to the moment as the meaning of action, the text points out that water freezes in winter and melts in spring, following the seasons. In matters of goodness, we can learn water’s sense of timing; hence, “in action, goodness lies in timeliness.”

Precisely because it does not contend, water gives rise to no resentment or blame. The highest goodness described above should take water as its model and make non-contention its goodness. If we take non-contention as beneficial, we can embody all seven qualities, receive Heaven’s blessing and people’s help—what fault could there be? The previous chapter says that the sage “puts himself last” and “keeps himself outside.” This passage follows with six qualities of goodness and non-contention, and so begins, “The highest goodness is like water.”

Liu Ji says:

From “The highest goodness is like water” to “therefore it incurs no blame,” the Book of Changes says, “What carries it on is goodness,” and the Zhuangzi says, “Depart from the Dao and you have goodness.” Both mean that, beneath the Dao, nothing comes closer to it than goodness. Heaven produces water first, so water too is not far from the Dao. Hence, “The highest goodness is like water.” Water is good at nourishing all things; it is supremely soft and yielding, and it does not contend. It also dwells in the low places that people dislike. For these reasons, it is “close to the Dao.”

“In dwelling, goodness lies in the place”: put yourself in a low position.

“In the heart, goodness lies in depth”: when the heart is still, it becomes clear.

“In giving, goodness lies in benevolence”: benefit others without seeking repayment.

“In speech, goodness lies in trustworthiness”: pass through danger without failing to keep faith.

When water is released, it flows; when dammed, it stops—this is “in government, goodness lies in good order.” It fills a hollow before moving onward, and after countless turns, it always flows east—this is “in affairs, goodness lies in ability.” Its springs gush endlessly, day and night without pause—this is “in action, goodness lies in timeliness.” It embodies all seven qualities and does not contend with things, so it incurs no blame. This is why it is close to the Dao. The Dao is empty yet able to gather; water flows downward and onward, naturally avoiding the burden of becoming full. That is why the next passage begins, “To hold and fill it…”

Zhao Shian says:

The text first uses water as a metaphor, then points out its yielding nature, continuing the thought of “The highest goodness is like water.” The previous chapter says, “Is it not because they are free of self-interest that they can accomplish their own aims?” This explains how Heaven and Earth, and the sage, bring about the public good through “self-interest”—that is, by not being selfish toward themselves. Only by achieving the public good through this kind of selflessness can one attain the highest goodness.

Cheng Gong was skilled at discerning the mysteries of the Heavenly Dao and human affairs, and could accord with them in any circumstances.

This is the state called “Highest Goodness,” which is why the text goes on to say, “Highest Goodness is like water.” Benevolence takes goodness as its foundation; righteousness has goodness as its destination; ritual finds its beauty in goodness; trust finds its substance in goodness; and wisdom finds its clarity in goodness. Each has its own form of goodness, yet none exhausts all that goodness can be. Only water’s De can encompass and embody all seven forms of goodness. It is said that wisdom reaches throughout the myriad things; perhaps this is why water is called “Highest Goodness.” “Goodness” means doing everything appropriately. To do everything appropriately is to leave nothing lacking, and this is why water is said to be goodness in its fullness.

Thus the text says, “Highest Goodness is like water.” The Imperial Commentary cites the Zhuangzi: to leave the substance of the Dao and separately promote one particular kind of goodness is to damage the Dao’s wholeness as soon as a name is established. Yet “Heaven’s One gives birth to water,” and water is not far removed from the Dao. Here, too, the meaning of “Highest Goodness” comes into view. The second passage points directly to water’s De: water excels at nourishing the myriad things, and so is “nearly Dao.” The earlier passage used “goodness” as a comparison for water; here it speaks directly of water’s goodness. Among the Five Phases, Metal gives birth to Water. Where Metal generates it, Water receives its substance and encloses it from the outside—thus it does not depart from its mother. Water arises from the Kan trigram, which occupies the northern position of Zi. The Yellow Palace, the central position of Earth, nurtures a single Qi, while Zi is the primary position. The place that encloses it corresponds to “the spirit residing within oneself”—the spirit kept inward within the body.

The Hongfan says that Heaven’s One gives birth to Water and Earth’s Two gives birth to Fire. Fire is born from Water; essence and unity come together. Shen resides in Jing, and spirit and essence respond to one another. The second and third Yang arise from Water: Water is below and Wind above. The three Yin arise from Wind: Wind is above and Water below. Yin and Yang unite in De, and spirit and essence respond to each other. Though there is one Yin and one Yang, one Wind and one Water, their origin lies in Heaven: the One is the beginning. Water rises as vapor and becomes clouds; clouds become rain, and all living things flourish through water. This is water’s benefit, which extends throughout the world. Hence the text says, “Water excels at benefiting the myriad things,” and yet does not contend with them.

The word “also” is added because one sentence cannot fully express water’s goodness, so another is needed. “Does not contend” describes water’s yielding nature. Yielding leads to compliance; compliance means not resisting things, and so nothing is beyond its reach. The Mencius says: guide it east and it flows east; guide it west and it flows west. Wherever it is guided, it goes. This is all due to its yielding nature. Yet water tends downward, while human nature favors high places. Those who favor high places dislike what is low, and many dislike what is low. It is common for people to contend for the heights, while water flows downward. To dwell in low and humble places is precisely the De of Highest Goodness. One who cannot dwell low will be prone to contention; one who contends will seek to get ahead and cannot set the self aside. But one who can set the self aside can be humble and dwell low. This principle is the same as the one explained earlier.

The scripture says: Thus, one can dwell in the low place that everyone despises and thereby draw near to the Dao (the Way). “Ji” means “to draw near.”

The commentary says: The Book of Changes says, “One Yin and one Yang: this is called the Dao.” What follows from the Dao is goodness. From this we can see that nothing is more fitting than goodness as a way of following the Dao. Yet the Dao is vast, so it seems to resemble no particular thing; no one under Heaven dares treat it as a subordinate to be commanded. The Dao is so subtle that it cannot be grasped, and nothing among the myriad things can compare with it. Only water, because it dwells below in a lowly place, can draw near to it. What follows are seven virtues of water. First, it accords with “dwelling well in a place.” Water and earth were originally one. After they separated, earth remained still while water moved. Earth’s nature overcomes water, and when water floods, earth raises embankments to contain it. Earth grows crops, and when water irrigates it, earth thereby fulfills its work. At first they belonged to one Qi (vital energy), like brothers; once divided and formed separately, they were like husband and wife. For without mutual overcoming, transformation and generation cannot occur; when water and earth come together, water can give rise to the myriad things. Thus water flows over the earth, and its benefits are found there. The earth is low, and water dwells below; water and earth share the same virtue and cannot be separated even for a moment. In this way they unite their virtues and return to their root. This differs from the saying, “Those who follow different paths do not make plans together,” in which each goes its own way. Where the land is level, the water is level too; from this we know that water is good at choosing where to dwell.

The commentary of the Emperor says: Water dwells within the earth, flowing without overflowing. Second, clarity is its substance: “the heart is good at being deep.” What has nature has a heart; what has no feelings has no heart. Water has no feelings, so how could it have a heart? The Heart Sutra speaks of the “heart” by using the human heart as a comparison for water. The heart is the Dao; the Dao arises from the heart. When the heart is still, the teachings vanish. Thus it is deep, empty, and still, and cannot be seen. Once the heart stirs and Shen (spirit) arises, the Dao disperses into things; how could its subtle workings then be fully put to use? “Deep” means profound, and is also called “deep emptiness.” Because the heart is empty, it can be said to be “good at being deep.” The deeper one probes, the farther one reaches. Zhuangzi says, “Deep and empty, still and clear”—perhaps this is the heart of water. When unmoving, it is clear; when undisturbed, it is level. There one can clearly see eyebrows and whiskers; the heavy and turbid settle below, the clear and bright rise above, and the myriad things find their place. These are all the meanings of “good at being deep.” Third, nurturing life is its virtue. Goodness and benevolence belong to those with a heart; when those without a heart bestow them, they are impartial. Water may seem unbenevolent, yet its benevolence is supreme. Water makes no distinctions, and virtue naturally flows through it. The Book of Changes says, “In the 坎 trigram there is trust; only with the heart can one attain fulfillment”—with one…

(The scripture and commentary appear to be incomplete here; the original text after “with one…” is unfinished.)

Collected Meanings of the True Scripture of the Dao and De (Part Two): A Plain-Language Reading

The Yang line lies between two Yin lines. If it cannot advance in De and cultivate its work, escaping danger, how could it manifest utmost sincerity and persist without stopping? In the time of the Water Trigram (Kan), one Yang returns, and the heart of Heaven and Earth appears again. The heart of Heaven and Earth lies in generating and transforming things; when it returns, it comes to rest here. Just as it returns, it rests, then turns toward new growth.

Universal love is the heart of a sage. Without embodying the Dao, one can do no more than limp along in benevolence, like a marsh whose waters have dried up. How could that compare with timely rain? This is what Heaven means. Thus, even Yao and Shun found it difficult to benefit all and aid the multitude. The benevolence of water shares the same De as the Dao: it loves all without selfishness, giving without choosing. Who, then, would not receive its benefit? Hence the saying, “In giving, be benevolent”—within the fourth line there is something that serves as its guiding principle.

“Words should be trustworthy.” Roots are the basis of things; nature and life are born of the Dao. To follow what they come from and accord with their constant nature is to violate no principle. In the Five Phases, Water governs wisdom and Earth governs trust. Why, then, speak of trust in relation to Water? Consider the Return Hexagram: after seven days, Yang returns. Qi passes through the Center of Sincerity, and the Center of Sincerity is trust. The Water Trigram occupies the Return Hexagram and derives from the Center of Sincerity, so it is said to govern trust. The Taixuan says that one Yang rides upon the One, unifying the myriad things and giving them form. Water corresponds to the Center of Sincerity; the Yang Qi within it lies hidden yet bright in the Yellow Palace, and trust is present throughout its center.

The subtle numinous power of the precelestial state lies in a single Qi, from which the source of wisdom begins the first thread of countless beginnings. Trust draws on wisdom so that words do not diverge from it; wisdom acts through trust and does not lose touch with things. When wisdom does not guide trust in one’s actions, hesitation and regret arise. When trust is not carried out through wisdom in one’s nature, it becomes stifled and stagnant. Thus what is stored within is nature, while what takes shape outwardly is action. The highest words leave words behind; the greatest trust requires no pledge. That is why one can trust both the beginning and the end. This does not mean that something lowly and empty, without cause, can receive great things. We can therefore see that if the person who speaks does not act with trust, they lose their root. The Changes says, “Walking through danger without losing one’s trust”—this is what it means.

Fifth, follow principle in governing and make governance effective. The Great Dao takes the principles inherent in nature as its guide; governing affairs comes before literary learning. Since Heaven and Earth came into being, no ruler of all the realms has ever transformed the people without fully understanding principle and realizing nature. The Three Sovereigns used spiritual power to transform in accordance with the Dao; the Five Emperors embodied benevolence in harmony with Heaven. Yet when people speak of governing the world, who understands its foundation? Be gentle like water, and contend with nothing.

They depart from the right path, establish their own “virtue” according to personal views, and disrupt the Great Constant—the unchanging principles of Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things. Perhaps they do not understand that sound governance takes its root in what is fundamental, and so cannot help falling into straits and meanness.

Water by nature tends toward low, damp places. It flows through the earth, turns countless times yet still pours eastward, skirts obstacles, and reaches the sea. This is the way of water. Governing with human feeling as its root is much the same.

Water irrigates and moistens; plants and animals depend on it to live. As rain and dew, it nourishes what has withered and helps it recover. This is the work of water. Governing with the people’s livelihood as its source is much the same.

Water washes away filth and leaves things clean; it takes in many impurities and transforms them into clarity. This is the De (Virtue/Power) of water. Governing well by transforming popular customs and correcting prevailing ways is much the same.

Dikes can guide rivers, but cannot hold them back; barriers can check water, but cannot master a raging current. This is the force of water. Governing by the way of yielding to prevail throughout the world is much the same.

The spring wells up unceasingly, and its stream flows in abundance. The more it is drawn, the clearer it becomes; the more it pours forth, the fresher it is. This is the root of water. Governing by renewing things day by day to transform and nourish the world is much the same.

Water embodies all these qualities, and good governance encompasses them all. What good governance is, then, should now be clear.

Alas, all these qualities are found in water: its waves are not evil, nor is its depth a virtue in itself. Even when it rises in waves, it does not lose its goodness; when it is made clear, its flow is not forcibly stopped. It surges without recklessly raising tumultuous breakers, and even in its billows it remains enduring. This is what the Supreme One (Laozi) meant by “The highest goodness is like water.” The sage models water in governing; how could this be an exercise of private cleverness?

Six: Water follows its vessel, taking on a square or round shape, and does well at whatever it is called upon to do. To act through Wuwei (non-action) and make few errors is easy; to act deliberately and remain free of harm is difficult.

Nothing in the world remains still and never moves. When something is in motion, responding to it so that things are properly suited to the moment—only the perceptive and wise can make that judgment.

By nature, water springs from the One of Heaven and flows on without ceasing. It advances once it fills each hollow, and at last spreads into the four seas. Observe it among two Yin lines: it can dwell in danger; with one Yang line at its center, its heart is open and at ease. Though Yang, it lies within Yin; though trapped, it finds its way out of danger. It has not left danger behind, yet it flows without overflowing. Through practice it emerges from peril—its function is great.

Yet water never contends with other things. It bends or runs straight according to the terrain: bending does not make it crooked, and running straight does not make it unruly. It takes a square or round shape according to its vessel: its square form is not cut and fashioned, and its round form has no fixed shape. It responds to the changes of the myriad things without losing its constancy, adapting to what the moment requires.

The following is a modern, plain-language explanation of a passage in Collected Interpretations of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue, discussing “the Virtue of water,” “acting well in season,” and “not contending.” It aims to stay close to the original meaning.

“Use” does not mean losing integrity and truthfulness. What appears to be “incapable” is, in fact, capable of anything. The function of supreme goodness, here likened to water, is especially evident in the seven ways it flows, each following its own constant course, and in how its movement and stillness accord with the moment. A gentleman observes the affairs of the world to decide when to advance and when to withdraw; what matters is whether he knows when to come forth and when to remain apart.

When it is time to come forth, come forth: when the moment arrives, the sage appears, and all things become visible. When it is time to remain apart, do so: keep to the Dao, lying hidden like a submerged dragon and exercising the caution represented by the Xun trigram. To cling to withdrawal when it is time to appear, or to hide away excessively when it is time to retreat, comes close to being unkind. To force action when it is time to remain still comes close to being unwise. Only by understanding when to advance and withdraw, and by not missing the moment, can movement and stillness both be fitting. The Book of Documents says: first consider what is good, then put it into practice; action must come at the right time.

Water moves when Yang energy releases it and it melts; when Yin energy condenses it, it freezes. Within the same substance, Yang is inside and Yin outside; in spring and winter, it may be moving or still. Thus, to move by following the moment of the Yu hexagram is good; to move with clarity in the moment of the Feng hexagram is good; to move through danger in the moment of the Jie hexagram is good; and to move with firmness in the moment of the Dazhuang hexagram is good.

The ancients kept their abilities within themselves, waiting for the right time to put them to use. They advanced in De and cultivated their work, hoping to complete it in season; they cultivated themselves and acted with care, waiting for the proper moment to act. Clear about what comes at the right time, they wished to find peace in the moment; when it was time to withdraw into obscurity and stillness, they wished to rest in accord with the moment. Heaven’s cycles proceed, and even Heaven does not oppose them. Those skilled at nurturing life respond only when pressed; those able to bring Yin and Yang into harmony advance and withdraw at the proper times. If one lives in the world without understanding when to come forth and when to withdraw, or cultivates the Dao without understanding when to rise and when to sink, how can one grasp the meaning of “acting well in season”?

The discussion that follows brings together “gentleness and compliance” and “not contending.” Water’s nature is yielding and weak; its De is to be good at not contending. The benefits of not contending are shown in the seven matters described above. In governing oneself, one does not overcome others through force; in conducting oneself, one keeps to gentleness. Water seems easy to attack, yet those who treat it with contempt and scorn are drowned. It seems easy to defile, yet it can endure being muddied and dishonored: those who scorn it drown themselves, and what muddies it gradually clears. In the end, no one can overcome its yielding nature.

How can one see that water’s current descends and that people dislike it, yet fail to understand that by dwelling below it can serve those above? How can one see that water is yielding and weak, and that the strong can overcome it, yet fail to understand that when softness is gathered and put to use, it becomes strength? When it is being nurtured… (The passage continues with the original’s discussion of nurturing and use. Its general point is that nurturing softness enables the use of strength, and that softness carried to its utmost turns into strength. This follows the same principle as: “Nothing in the world is softer and weaker than water, yet nothing is better at overcoming the hard and strong.”)

The “seven flows” commonly refer to seven situations in which the De of water is expressed, in connection with the chapter “Supreme goodness is like water” in the Dao De Jing and its various commentaries. The “submerged dragon” is an image from the Book of Changes, referring to a gentleman who remains hidden before his time has come. Yu, Feng, Jie, and Dazhuang are hexagrams from the Book of Changes; here, they are used to discuss what kinds of action are good at different times. “Acting well in season” means being good at recognizing the right moment, rather than always acting or always remaining still. “Cultivating the True” refers to Daoist spiritual practice aimed at realizing the True.

The General Meaning of the Scripture

Water can grow from a trickle into a raging torrent, often beyond anyone’s control, yet few people truly follow the Way of “not contending.” Those who can grasp gentleness and non-contention invite less resentment and avoid wrongdoing in the world. The strong who bully the weak, or the many who oppress the few, usually rely on their strength and bring trouble upon themselves. But when one acts by yielding and adapting, it is hard for others to find fault.

Shao Ruoyu’s Commentary

“Supreme goodness is like water” leads to the words “therefore it is without blame”—free from resentment and reproach. People of the world enjoy contending, but Laozi regards non-contention as the highest good and uses water as its image. Water has no selfish motives. It is skilled at nourishing all things without contending with them, and willingly dwells in low places that others dislike. For this reason, its virtue is close to the Dao (the Way).

Conflict and attack arise from thoughts of contention; only when there is no self-centered intent can one truly refrain from contending. Taking selflessness as one’s guiding principle makes it possible to benefit all things. Thus, dwelling without self-centered intent makes one skilled at choosing a place to live; being inwardly free of self-centered intent makes one skilled at holding the depths within; giving without self-centered intent makes one skilled in benevolence; speaking without self-centered intent makes one skilled in trustworthiness; issuing orders without self-centered intent makes one skilled in governing; handling affairs without self-centered intent makes one skilled in capability; and acting without self-centered intent makes one skilled at responding to the right moment. Only by being free of self-centered intent and skilled at not contending can one be without resentment or blame.

Wang Zhir’an’s Commentary

Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) gives birth to the Two Modes; the Two Modes give birth to the Four Images; the Four Images give birth to the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). The Five Phases undergo great transformations: in the heavens they are the five planets; on earth, the Five Sacred Mountains; in human affairs, the Five Constant Virtues; within the body, the five organs; in color, the five hues; in music, the five notes; in taste, the five flavors; and in scent, the five fragrances. When each fulfills its function, they are called the Five Materials. They generate and overcome one another, waxing and waning in turn.

Water, however, is skilled at benefiting all things without contending, and does not refuse to dwell where everyone else dislikes. Its functions are difficult to describe, which is why it is said that water alone is “close to the Dao.” Why is this so? Water’s nature can be both soft and hard, round and square, curved and straight, short and long. When it flows, it forms streams; when it freezes, it becomes frost and ice; when it gathers, it forms rivers; when it disperses, it becomes clouds and mist. All living kinds depend on it to grow, and all treasures depend on it to take shape. Its springs flow abundantly, nourishing without end.

“Heaven’s One” arises at the beginning and is not far from the Dao. Once the name “supreme goodness” has been established, who among the myriad things can surpass water? Thus it is said: Nothing in the world is softer and weaker than water, yet nothing surpasses it in attacking what is hard and strong. To refrain from contending and yet prevail—that is how it works. As for flowing and spreading… (The original text may continue with further discussion; this translation follows the portion available.)

The chapter “The Highest Good Is Like Water” teaches that the highest good should be like water: it benefits all things without contending and willingly dwells in low places that others avoid, so it rarely arouses resentment.

First, dwelling well: choosing a place and settling there

Water does not choose its territory as it moves. It can settle wherever the ground is level and secure. It stays balanced and can contain impurities; even when full, it does not overflow. This is “dwelling well”: goodness lies in being settled, able to remain low, contain what is impure, and be full without overflowing.

Second, the heart is well in its depth: stillness that can reflect

People look at their reflections not in flowing water but in still water. Only stillness can quiet the movement of others; stillness leads to calm, and calm brings clarity. Returning to the root and source, one reaches a great equilibrium that nothing can overcome. This is “the heart is well in its depth”: goodness lies in the heart, deep and still as an abyss, able to reflect and illuminate.

Third, relating well through benevolence: care without self-interest

Care for all without self-interest, and wisdom extends throughout the world. Let benevolence be the source of kindness without becoming self-important. This is “relating well through benevolence”: goodness lies in how one treats others—with generosity and care that reach everywhere.

Fourth, speaking well through trustworthiness: straightforward words that seem contrary

Straightforward words can seem contrary; they are plain and unadorned. Without expecting it, people come together; without arranging it, they arrive. This is “speaking well through trustworthiness”: goodness lies in speech that is honest and dependable, without embellishment.

Fifth, governing well through good order: holding wisdom and De within

Put an end to the customary practices of Zeng and Shi, and silence the arguments of Yang and Mo. When people each hold to their own wisdom, the world is not confused; when they each preserve their De, the world does not become distorted. This is “governing well through good order”: goodness lies in public affairs—in keeping government simple and putting disputes to rest.

Sixth, acting well through ability: accomplishing things as circumstances require

Put an end to the cult of sages and discard cleverness, and great thieves will cease. Put an end to craft and discard profit, and the people’s well-being will increase a hundredfold. Act as circumstances require, and nothing will remain unaccomplished. This is “acting well through ability”: goodness lies in what one does—in responding flexibly to changing circumstances.

Seventh, moving well in time: guiding events according to their momentum

Spring brings the thaw and winter the freeze; this is the work of the seasons. Turning a place to advantage depends on the terrain. Block the water and it stops; open a channel and it flows. Put the people to work in season, and their efforts will accord with what is appropriate. This is “moving well in time”: goodness lies in action that follows the seasons.

In sum: To dwell well is to be at ease in one’s place; to have a good heart is to be deep and still; to relate well is to show benevolence and give; to speak well is to be trustworthy and stand by one’s word; to govern well is to bring order and stability; to act well is to do one’s utmost; and to move well is to follow the right time. The sage embodies these principles in governing the world and the state: when there is sorrow, the sage shares the people’s sorrow; when there is joy, the sage shares their joy. It is easy to practice Wuwei (non-action) and have few desires; it is difficult to act and incur no blame. If one can embody all seven forms of goodness, one will benefit others like water, bringing nourishment across the generations without anyone recognizing the benefit. One contends with nothing, and nothing can contend with it; therefore, there is no blame.

Huang Maocai says: From “The Highest Good Is Like Water” through “there is no blame,” the passage presents seven ways in which water embodies the highest and lesser forms of goodness. Benefiting things without contending, and dwelling where everyone else dislikes, are the highest forms of goodness. A person who can embody these principles may come close to the Dao (the Way). The seven lesser forms of goodness are these: “dwelling well” means gathering into a lake; “the heart is well in its depth” means that stillness allows one to reflect; “relating well through benevolence” means that one’s power to benefit things is far-reaching; “speaking well through trustworthiness” means that one’s influence flows on without end; and “governing well through good order,” “acting well through ability,” and “moving well in time” each mean just what their names suggest.

A Plain-Language Interpretation

(Continuing from “The highest goodness is like water”)

In governing, the best approach is to wash away what is filthy, as water does. In handling affairs, the best approach is to work with the shape of things, making them square or round as needed. In action, the best approach is to move with the right time: water freezes in winter and melts in spring, following the seasons.

Anyone who can embody these seven qualities may already be called a good person. Yet this still falls short of “not contending.” Only by not contending can one be free of resentment.

Cheng Taizhi says:

“The highest goodness is like water”: water arrives, yet does not contend with others. Whenever I take for myself some task that benefits the world, those who stand in relation to me as partners or counterparts must lose something. I gain the benefit while they suffer the harm. Once you and I are set against each other, contention begins.

Water’s De (Virtue/Power) does not deliberately seek to benefit others, yet it does not refuse the helpful tasks that fall to it. It can cook, irrigate, wash, and carry; it moves only when the time comes. Benefits arise from this, while harm is not shifted onto others. Thus water has nothing to contend over.

“The highest goodness” means goodness at its utmost. Among all people, it comes close to the Dao (the Way). Before the Dao stirs into action, “nothingness” is its foundation; once it functions, it moves through all things, taking “emptiness” as its substance. Emptiness becomes apparent when it meets things. “Weakness and lowliness” do not yet amount to attaining the Dao, but if one acts through openness and emptiness without falling into fullness, one can reach emptiness and return well to “nothingness.” This is close to the Dao’s direction.

There are people in the world who know the value of humility and weakness, yet they have not overcome their selfish desires. They are proud and competitive, always wanting to stand above others. How could they willingly humble themselves and endure disgrace in order to practice humility and weakness? Only water is good at staying low without contending, and at taking in filth without refusing it. Applied to human affairs, this means enduring and accepting things that seem shameful, such as washing away dirt or bearing humiliation. Though this does not yet amount to attaining the Dao, being inwardly empty, selfless, and upright is an essential path for those who seek the Dao.

• “In dwelling, goodness lies in the place”: “Dwelling” means the place where one stays or gathers. To dwell in a low place is like a great state settling downstream; hence the phrase “goodness lies in the place.”
• “In the heart, goodness lies in depth”: This does not mean being unmoving, but rather being deep, still, and calm. That is the nature of the heart.
• “In giving, goodness lies in benevolence”: Whatever one’s giving reaches, it nourishes.
• “In speech, goodness lies in trustworthiness”: In human affairs, it is wrong to stay silent when one should speak, to understate what should be expressed fully, or to exaggerate what should be stated simply. Yet speech should still arise naturally, like water gathering without a sound.

Common people call water deep, still, and silent. When struck, it makes a sound: a heavy blow produces a loud sound, a light blow a faint one. It is always so, and this is called “trustworthiness.”

In governance, goodness lies in setting things right. Those skilled at governing correct what is out of order.

Once something has been washed, its outer grime is removed and its nature revealed. This is its “order.”

In affairs, goodness lies in ability. To handle affairs well, one needs an inner standard that is steady and fair, and clear insight within. This ability becomes visible only when one encounters a situation.

In action, goodness lies in timing. When it meets a hollow, water comes to a steady stop; when the hollow is full, it does not refuse to flow onward. When it meets the cold, it freezes; when the ice melts, it flows downward again. Its goodness lies in acting when the moment is right, doing whatever the situation calls for.

Precisely because it does not contend, it incurs no blame. It responds without initiating, and carries on without making a show of acting. Though its benefits reach all things, it does not seize them from others. So no one can harm what it does. The seven kinds of “goodness” discussed above are not merely abilities of water: when one does not contend and others have no cause for resentment, the “highest goodness” is readily achieved.

Across the eighty-one chapters, the benefits of “not contending” are discussed in six places. First: because one does not boast, one achieves merit; because one does not brag, one endures. “Precisely because one does not contend, no one under Heaven can contend with one.” Second: “If you wish to be above others, place yourself below them; if you wish to come before others, put yourself behind them. Because you do not contend, no one under Heaven can contend with you.” Third: the Way of Heaven does not contend, yet excels at winning. Fourth: the Way of the sage acts, yet does not contend. Fifth: to fight without ferocity and win without claiming the victory is called the virtue of not contending. Together with “because it does not contend, it incurs no blame” here, these make six instances.

“Contending” does not necessarily mean fighting or going to war. It means that two sides oppose each other and neither is willing to yield. The Yin and Yang of Heaven and Earth are supremely subtle and leave no trace, yet they contend at the two solstices, winter and summer. What occupies a position has not yet withdrawn, while what is coming to take its place presses forward: this is called contention. To contend, then, is to face one another without retreating, neither side yielding.

Those who have attained the Dao are different. They know the masculine yet keep to the feminine: they can act, yet can also refrain from acting. They may have the power to influence others, yet leave it unused. Their intelligence may surpass all others, yet they keep it hidden and do not deploy it. What they hold and cultivate, they are always reluctant to put ahead of the world. How could they contend? Liezi once spoke of the way of “always winning” and “always not winning”; this is precisely what he meant.

The ancients began their discussion of “strength” by saying that if one is always striving to prove oneself stronger and trying to outdo others at every turn, one will often end up in the perilous position of being unable to protect even oneself. “If one relies on oneself, one is endangered” means that the competitive person will inevitably meet a rival; once they do, they cannot remain victorious forever, and in the end they will be defeated.

They then spoke of “yielding”: when one is the first to yield, there is no danger. If you do not contend with others, they have nothing to contend over with you, and victory is therefore assured. Taken to its furthest extent, even when two armies face each other, one’s own forces may go into battle and win, yet still be said to “not contend.” To make yielding the guiding principle, wait until the enemy exposes an opening, then seize the moment and prevail: all of this is called “not contending.” This is the way to remain victorious.

Yet this “constant victory” is described from the standpoint of “acting for oneself”: advance when it brings advantage; when it does not, protect oneself for the time being. It places greater weight on cultivating oneself and less on serving others. In Laozi’s teaching, even those who have grasped its deepest subtleties often first hold to the principle of “keeping oneself from danger” before they are willing to step forward and take on public responsibilities; otherwise, they decline. There must have been many who studied this teaching in antiquity but refused to take up public service. Thus the Gatekeeper mocked Confucius for “knowing it cannot be done, yet doing it all the same,” while the Basket Carrier said, “How petty and stubborn! If no one recognizes you, then let it be.” Neither was without concern for the troubled world. But judging that no one in the world would join them, they abandoned their efforts and let things take their natural course. Many such people studied the Daoist teachings on governance but refused to serve.

Confucius, however, took a different approach. Hearing the Basket Carrier’s words, he sighed, “How resolute! It is truly hard to have nothing to do with the world.” Could Confucius not have cherished his own life and turned his back on the world? He placed greater weight on saving the world: when there was no way forward, he did not go forward; when there was no proper way forward, he went forward all the same. His five approaches and withdrawals and his seventy-two visits to rulers show that he was willing to take the world’s burdens upon himself. Laozi’s outlook remains a way of the Dao, but it was Confucius who could endure such hardships. Judged by what happened to him, the calamities and humiliations that befall those who put their own interests first could never have reached him: being driven from his home and having trees felled around him were ordeals Laozi never faced.

Zhan Qiupu says: “The highest goodness is like water” (through “therefore it incurs no blame,” the chapter on changing one’s nature) … (The original quotation continues with an explanation of the meaning of water.)

The highest virtue is like water. Laozi uses the goodness within our nature to help us understand the nature of water among the myriad things. That is why he says the highest good is like water.

Water is good at nourishing all things, yet it does not compete for superiority. But when water floods and brings disaster, or dries up completely, it can harm all things just the same. Only by willingly dwelling in the low places that others are unwilling to occupy does one come closest to the Dao (the Way). Why is this so? When people are good at settling themselves in level places, their minds become as still and deep as an abyss. They express benevolence through generous giving, speak with integrity, govern by upholding what is right, handle tasks capably, and act in accord with the right time. In all this, they take account of others’ benefit while making things easier for themselves, so the world naturally has little cause for resentment. Besides, human nature is inherently good. Why must the highest good be compared to water? This is simply an analogy that makes the idea easier to grasp.

Zhang Chongying said:

“The highest virtue is like water” expresses the principle in its fullest form; hence there is “no blame”—no resentment or fault.

Water’s nature is to dwell below and yield gently. Probe it and it is empty; look into it and it is clear. In the heavens it becomes rain and dew; on earth it becomes rivers and streams. It lets moving things float and enables plants to grow. It washes away filth and softens what is hard. All things depend on it to come to fruition. They therefore turn toward it and receive its nourishment, without arguing over “this may enter, that may not.”

The “people” mentioned here are ordinary people in the world. Who among them does not seek high status, rely on strength, and scorn the yielding and gentle? They do not realize that water’s dwelling below and yielding gently have their own subtle efficacy: there is nothing that water cannot constrain. If people’s innate abilities and the nature they are endowed with resemble the nature of water, they are people of the highest virtue. This subtle efficacy draws them closer to the Dao day by day. As it appears in where they dwell, nourishing and flowing onward, it is “good at dwelling in the right place.” When it is put to work in the mind, empty, clear, calm, and deep, it is “good at keeping a deep mind.” In their dealings with external things, enabling things to come to fruition through them, it is “good at benevolence in giving.” When expressed in speech, truthful and without deceit, it is “good at keeping faith in speech.” When used to set others right, making what is wrong in them and what is right in oneself naturally clear, it is “good at governing rightly.” When applied to tasks, it is “good at ability in handling affairs,” adapting aptly to square and round, curved and straight. Through dawn and dusk, day and night, rising and falling, waxing and waning, without waste or contrivance, it is “good at timing in action,” acting in accord with what the moment calls for. When all seven forms of goodness are present and quietly working within, evil thoughts naturally dissolve.

Collected Commentaries on the True Scripture of the Dao and De: A Plain-Language Interpretation

General meaning of the scripture:

When you follow your nature without competing with others for superiority, and bear no resentment toward them, you go deeper along the Dao. Thus it is said: precisely because you do not contend, you have no grievances.

Bai Yuchan says:

“Supreme goodness is like water”—the highest goodness is like water. This is the nature of water: it skillfully nourishes all things without contending, with no selfish thought of “what I want to do.” It willingly stays in the low places that everyone else avoids. What does it lose by doing so? That is why it is close to the Dao. The heart should be like this too:

• Dwelling well: Be at ease where you are; do not find fault with your surroundings.
• A heart well like a deep pool: Let the heart be like a deep pool, able to hold and settle things.
• Giving well in kindness: Treat others with benevolence, without distinguishing between one person and another.
• Speaking well with trustworthiness: Speak truthfully and reliably.
• Governing well with fairness: Handle affairs justly, so that nothing is done unjustly.
• Acting well with ability: Let your actions accord with Wuwei (non-action) while still leaving nothing undone.
• Moving well at the right time: Act in keeping with the moment.

Precisely because you do not contend or struggle with others in your heart, you have no grievances. Nor do you treat noncontention as a good fortune to boast about.

Liao Cuiran says:

“Supreme goodness is like water” describes the marvelous workings of the Great Dao, like the way water flows. Water skillfully benefits and nourishes all things without contending. Because it is yielding and weak, it can be used as people need. It stays in the low places that everyone dislikes; people use it every day without knowing it. This is the substance of the Dao, so water is close to the Dao and may be called truly constant.

• Dwelling well: Be at ease in ordinary, humble circumstances.
• A heart well like a deep pool: Keep the space within the heart clear and calm, and remain pure.
• Giving well in kindness: Benefit and aid all things.
• Speaking well with trustworthiness: Hold to what is centered and upright.
• Governing well with fairness: Consistently uphold impartiality.
• Acting well with ability: Purify the Dao Qi—the vital energy of the Dao, as understood in Daoism.
• Moving well at the right time: Keep measured restraint in action and in stillness.

Precisely because you do not contend and let others make use of you, how could you ever oppose them? So you have no grievances and, in the end, nothing to regret. Only by living this way can a person attain the Dao.

Chen Bixu says:

“Supreme goodness” refers to a person, while “like water” is a metaphor. The Perfected Person is open-hearted and free of desire, adapts to changing circumstances, does not go against the conditions at hand, and dwells in goodness without clinging to it. That is why this is called supreme goodness. Water takes the shape of its vessel, becomes deep or shallow according to its surroundings, rises or sinks in keeping with the Dao, and holds emptiness while following its own principles. The sage understands all these qualities, which is why the phrase says “like water.”

Water embodies “three ways of being close to the Dao” and “seven ways of benefiting things,” as described below. Water skillfully benefits and nourishes all things, so it is close to the Dao—this is one of the three ways of being close to the Dao.

Water is calm by nature and moistens everything. Without water, the sky would be parched by the sun and the earth would be filled with flying dust. Water benefits and nourishes all things; this is called “benefiting well,” one of its qualities. Nothing under Heaven is softer or weaker than water. It leaves the solid and returns to the empty, turns away from high places and flows downward; when blocked, it stops… The original meaning continues: water does not contend, dwells in places others dislike, and is nearly one with the Dao, corresponding to the seven virtues of supreme goodness above.

Note: The latter part of the original text in Chen Bixu’s section appears to be incomplete: it breaks off after “when blocked, it…” The plain-language interpretation translates only the visible text.

When it stops resisting, water simply flows downward, following the lay of the land. This is why it is said to “not contend”—the second virtue of water. People naturally dislike being at the bottom and prefer to be above others. Water, however, goes toward low places, accepts what is turbid, and stays where people shun, yet does not lose its nature. It cleanses all things while alone taking in filth and disgrace. This is why it is said to “dwell where all people dislike”—the third virtue of water.

“Near” means close to. Water benefits all things, showing the breadth of its benevolence; it does not contend, showing the bright humility of its De; it can endure filth in loathsome places, showing the breadth of its capacity. The perfected person consistently practices these three qualities of water. Such conduct is not far from the Dao, hence the saying, “close to the Dao.”

Another interpretation: Water is the mother of Qi, flourishes in the north, and has the number six. The north is where Yang’s De begins and Yin energy ends. Its generating number is one, the same as the Dao. The Dao is also called “the One”: the Dao’s “one” is the one of “no one,” while water’s “one” is the one of “having one.” The “one” of “no one” is the Dao’s essence; the “one” of “having one” is the Dao’s function. Water makes the Dao’s function manifest, hence the saying, “almost like the Dao.”

Dwelling well in a place: The perfected person’s dwelling is marked by a good keeping of humility and lowliness. Following the natural course of things, their influence reaches the local community. Like water on the earth, they readily settle in low places and nourish all things. Hence it is said, “dwell well in a place”—this is the first excellence.

Keeping the heart deep: The perfected person’s heart preserves emptiness and stillness, clearly discerning what is subtle and hidden, serene and transparent. Like a clear pool, water may ripple and flow through nine transformations without losing its clarity and stillness. Hence it is said, “keep the heart deep”—this is the second excellence.

Giving with benevolence: When the perfected person accompanies others, their benevolence and generosity extend throughout the world, without private attachments or favoritism. Like water nourishing the land, they readily rise and descend, reaching and benefiting everything. Hence it is said, “give with benevolence”—this is the third excellence.

Speaking with sincerity: The perfected person’s words keep faith and sincerity. They make no prior agreement with things, yet naturally accord with them. Like water reflecting things without any difference between beauty and ugliness, they shift when full, and pass through dangerous places without losing their way. Hence it is said, “speak with sincerity”—this is the fourth excellence.

Governing well: In government, the perfected person is skilled at governing the people. Their upright bearing brings understanding to things, and things naturally follow. Like clear, level water, they establish what is high and low, washing all things clean of dust and grime. Hence it is said, “govern well”—this is the fifth excellence.

Acting with ability: When facing a task, the perfected person is skilled at making use of things, assigning duties according to each person’s capacities, and making sure their abilities are not wasted. Like water, whose nature is yielding, they work well with both square and round forms, adapting to the shape of each vessel and accomplishing whatever is required. Hence it is said, “act with ability”—this is the sixth excellence.

In movement and stillness, the sage is skilled at observing the proper time. In coming forth or withdrawing, they respond to circumstances and can…

The Conclusion of the Seven Excellences

“To fulfill the Way is like water in its movement. It adapts well to the seasons: it freezes in winter and flows in summer, never missing its proper time. Thus it is said, ‘In movement, it is excellent at timing.’” This is the seventh excellence. The saying “Precisely because it does not contend, it is free of blame” means that “precisely” signifies “alone.” This sentence sums up the preceding discussion of the three capacities and seven excellences.

The realized person, one who has awakened to the Dao, acts with care. In coming and going, speaking and keeping silent, they preserve the wondrous Dao and accord with what suits each thing. They remain yielding and still, and do not contend with anything. If they contend with nothing, where could blame arise? “Blame” can also mean resentment: only those in the world who do not contend have nothing to resent.

Xie Tunan’s Explanation

“Supreme goodness is like water, almost reaching the Dao”; “The Way of the Great Learning lies in resting in the highest good”; and this chapter’s “supreme goodness” all refer to the highest degree of goodness. Mencius says, “There is no nature that is not good,” and also, “There is no water that does not flow downward.” The Jing says, “The rivers and seas can be kings of the hundred valleys because they are good at lying below them.” Each uses water’s downward flow as a metaphor for goodness. People who can humble themselves draw all forms of goodness to them; water that flows downward draws all streams to it. Their tendencies are the same.

Water nourishes all things without contending for gain. It benefits things without benefiting itself. People dislike low, filthy places, but water willingly dwells there. It follows its natural course and makes no choices, so it can come close to the Dao. Though this speaks of water, it is really speaking of the good person.

• In dwelling, it is excellent at choosing a place: It makes no distinction between high and low ground, and so is excellent at dwelling.
• In heart, it is excellent in depth: Clear and undisturbed, the heart is like a deep pool.
• In giving, it is excellent in benevolence: Taking only what is needed and being content, it treats others with the goodness of benevolence.
• In speech, it is excellent in truth: It sounds when things are uneven, and so its words are trustworthy.
• In governing, it is excellent at bringing order: It reflects beauty and ugliness, and so is capable of governing.
• In action, it is excellent in ability: It carries what sinks and what floats, and so handles affairs with skill.
• In movement, it is excellent at timing: It flows without ceasing, and so its movement accords with the proper moment.

Its benefits are so far-reaching, its accomplishments so great, and yet it has never contended with anything. What, then, could there be to resent? Though this speaks of water’s excellence, it is really speaking of human excellence. Goodness and water alike are places where the Dao is present.

I have reflected on this: Heaven’s first of the Five Phases is Water, and Water is the root of the Five Phases. Nothing is more worthy of honor than water. Flowing through the earth, it benefits all things; nothing is more beneficial than water. It is honored yet does not claim honor, great yet does not claim greatness. This is why it is good and does not contend.

The Main Idea of the Scripture

If you do not contend, there will be no resentment or blame. When a good person practices goodness, being friends only with the good in one village still feels insufficient; being friends with the good in one state still feels insufficient. Only when one can be friends with the good throughout the world can one be called “supremely good.” One should also “share goodness with others,” spreading it widely like a river bursting its banks: goodness nourishes the world without boasting of itself. It dwells alongside muddy currents without pride or self-congratulation, and so no one in the world can contend with it. Human goodness is the goodness of water; the goodness of water is the goodness of the Dao. The Dao is within oneself, so turn inward and seek it: cultivate De in the first stirrings of ignorance, circulate Qi and regulate the breath amid the waters that nourish all, and complete the work through the transformations of water and fire between “Already Fulfilled” and “Not Yet Fulfilled.” In this way, goodness and water are within you. Use water well, and you can share the Dao’s enduring nature. Otherwise, water, oh water—what, exactly, should one learn from you?

Lin Yanzhai says: From “Supreme goodness is like water” to “therefore it is free from blame,” this chapter again uses water to illustrate the meaning of “having no self-interest in mind.” “Supreme goodness” means the highest goodness: the principle of goodness in the world is one with water. Water is good because it benefits all things without claiming credit; it follows the current without resisting or contending; it settles in low, wet places and does not reject what people dislike. Seen in this way, water comes close to the Dao. “Close” means near. “In dwelling, be good at choosing the ground” means to dwell at ease. “In the heart, be good at depth” means to be settled and still. “In giving, be good in benevolence” means that benevolence can reach all things. “In speaking, be good in trustworthiness” means that everything spoken is grounded in truth. “In governing, be good at bringing order” means that when used to set a state right, it will surely bring order. “In affairs, be good at ability” means that when used to handle matters, nothing is beyond its capacity. “In action, be good at timing” means that whatever one does, one acts at the right time. These seven lines describe how a person of the Dao speaks and acts without claiming ability for themselves. Thus, in the world, they have no one to contend with and no one to resent or blame them. This is what “only because they do not contend are they free from blame” means. Many interpreters explain these seven lines as minor virtues of water and force the text to fit that reading; this is not Laozi’s original meaning.

Fan Yingyuan says: From “Supreme goodness is like water” to “therefore it is close to the Dao,” “close” means near. Water, as a thing, receives the Qi of Heaven’s First One. It has no fixed form, yet there is nowhere it cannot flow. Nothing moistens all things as well as water; this is what “good at benefiting” means. When it encounters something square, it becomes square…

Plain-Language Commentary on Chapter Eight, “The Highest Good Is Like Water,” from the Collected Explanations of the True Scripture of the Way and Its Virtue

When a square vessel meets a round one, it becomes round. What is there to contend over? A person of the highest goodness has Virtue that is subtle, mysterious, and far-reaching. They are always good at benefiting all things and do not contend, so goodness is also said to be like water. Most people prefer high places and dislike low ones, but water alone dwells in the low places that everyone else dislikes. A person of the highest goodness can always remain humble and lowly; possessing this Virtue, they are close to the Dao. Of the sixty-four hexagrams in the Book of Changes, only the Humility hexagram has good fortune without misfortune, regret, or difficulty.

The Lord of the Riverbank says: A person of the highest goodness is like water in its nature; hence the saying, “The highest good is like water.” Water takes shape naturally, and its principle is the same as the Dao: it is everywhere and benefits everything. Water is like this too. Yet once it has taken on a form, it is separated from the Dao to some degree; hence the saying, “nearly the Dao.” Still, nothing that can be called good is better than this, and so it is called the highest good.

Dwelling well means staying when it is right to stay; a good heart is deep means remaining inwardly clear and still; in giving, be kind means treating things fairly and offering to each according to its needs; in speech, be trustworthy means not speaking carelessly; in governing, be effective means letting Virtue be free of self-interest; in one’s work, be capable means being able to deal with everything; in action, choose the right time means acting when it is appropriate. With this Virtue and these qualities of goodness, one simply does not contend. Thus one avoids fault and fulfills Virtue and goodness completely.

Xue Yongzhai says: From “The highest good is like water” through “in action, choose the right time”: The person of the highest goodness has clear nature and pure Virtue, and is therefore like water. Rain and dew nourish, and springs irrigate: water benefits all things. It flows, moistens, and descends; it settles in foul places and pools: it dwells where everyone else dislikes. Water is born from the One of Heaven, while the Dao arises from the unformed One; hence water is said to be near the Dao. When bounded, it becomes a nation’s treasure; when released, it becomes a nation’s resource: this is dwelling well. Still water reflects, and the deeper it is measured, the greater its depth: this is a good heart that is deep. It nourishes and flourishes all things, acting without claiming credit: this is kindness in giving. The hundred rivers follow the example of the sea and flow into it: this is trustworthiness in speech. Water washes away filth and levels what is high and low: this is effective governance. In a plate it is square; in a bowl it is round: this is capability in one’s work. In winter it freezes solid; in spring it melts: this is choosing the right time. One simply does not contend, and so has no fault. Nothing in the world is softer and weaker than water, and so it does not contend. Since it does not contend, what fault could it have?

The Abode of Leisure says: From “The highest good is like water” through “and so has no fault”: The Dao’s utmost Virtue is called the highest good, and water is used as its metaphor. Water can benefit all things without contending, and so it has no fault.

Collected Commentaries on the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue: A Plain-Language Interpretation

General Meaning of the Scripture

One who does not contend with all things for credit has no selfish concern for “me.” Water flows toward low places; this is called dwelling in the low ground that others are unwilling to occupy. Though water has no intention of its own, it has De (Virtue/Power), and so it is close to the Dao (the Way). “Ji” means “near.”

A person who holds to the Great Dao and possesses supreme De is the same in stillness and movement. This is called “dwelling well in a place.” Their capacity embraces all without limit; this is called “having a deep and open heart.” They give generously without pride; this is called “giving with benevolence.” Their words can serve as a model; this is called “speaking with trustworthiness.” They guide through moral teaching, as grass bends before the wind; this is called “governing well.” They put Wuwei (non-action) to its subtle use, accomplishing things without toil; this is called “acting with skill.” They do not speak what is unreasonable or do what goes against the Dao, and their actions accord with the right time; this is called “moving at the right time.”

In all things, they let the Dao guide their actions and do not contend with anything. Because they do not contend, they incur neither fault nor resentment.

Chu Boxiu’s Commentary

“Supreme goodness is like water.” Goodness at its utmost gives rise to neither resentment nor blame. Benefiting things, refraining from contention, and humbly dwelling below are all forms of goodness in practice. “Supreme goodness” is the highest of all goodness, built up over time, much like the expressions “supreme De” and “supreme benevolence.”

Heaven’s first begetting is water, the foremost of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). It marks the beginning of the passage from nothing to existence, and the first stage in the transformation of Qi (vital energy) into form. Though it has form, it is as if formless, impossible to grasp. Once it has accumulated over time, its force cannot be resisted. The same principle applies when a person builds up small acts of goodness until they become supreme goodness.

Water’s goodness lies in benefiting things without contending, and in receiving filth and holding impurities. What in the world can compare? In places of filth and dampness that everyone else despises, water winds its way there without refusal. It can also cleanse and purify what is there, turning it clear. That is why it is supreme goodness, close to the Dao.

Dwelling well in a place means being at ease where one lives. Having a deep and open heart means keeping one’s aspirations profound and still. Giving with benevolence means bestowing kindness without reluctance. Speaking with trustworthiness means that one’s words and actions do not diverge. Governing well means bringing all affairs to order. Acting with skill means understanding what is fitting. Moving at the right time means responding to circumstances as they arise.

Some people interpret the seven points above as “the seven virtues of water,” but this is a strained interpretation. If that were the case, the scripture should say, “Water is like supreme goodness.” “Words have their guiding principle, and affairs have their ruler.” Readers should seek the original intent behind the teaching: when considering the many kinds of goodness, non-contention is the highest. From it, all the other kinds of goodness arise. Externally, things have no cause for resentment; internally, one incurs no fault. Nothing comes before this as a way of entering the Dao.

Niu Miaochuan’s Commentary

“Supreme goodness is like water”: it nourishes all things without contending. It is goodness at its very best, and so is called supreme goodness. “Like water” means the highest goodness in the world.

The highest good is nothing other than water. All things grow only in moist, yin conditions; thus water excels at nourishing the ten thousand things. Water moves according to circumstances and does not pick and choose its objects: whether vessels are large or small, square or round, water adapts and fills them; when the world draws on water, it never refuses—hence we say water does not contend with the ten thousand things.

Human goodness resembles water: it adapts to the environment, yields from high to low, holds a broad mind, embraces the multitude, and does not vie with the world. Water flows everywhere between Heaven and Earth; therefore we say it is close to the Dao (the Way)—the fundamental principle by which the ten thousand things in the cosmos operate. The multitude dislikes dwelling in low places, yet water precisely flows downward. As the ten thousand things grow, they tend upward; water does not prize height but willingly stays below.

Confucius often praised water, saying: “Water, water—what is it in water that I value?” Mencius said that when springs gush without cease, day and night, filling hollow one after another before moving on until they enter the great sea—that is how things with a source behave. The virtue of water lies here. Why then do we say water is close to the Dao? “Close” means near; the Dao is deep and hidden. Water’s role in the human world is like the Dao pervading all under Heaven: nothing fails to receive its nourishment and moistening—therefore we say water is close to the Dao. Water’s nature is always to flow downward; human nature is originally inclined toward good. Mencius said human nature tends toward good as water tends downward—how could human nature not be close to the Dao?

“Dwell in a good place” (ju shan di) refers to water’s seven kinds of good conduct. Water stands first among the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), like the sovereign of all streams; when blocked it does not force onward, and only after filling depressions does it continue. Where the land slopes slightly, water follows down; where it rises slightly, the flow stretches on without end. Only where the terrain is level and stable does water gather—hence we say water is good at choosing where to abide.

“The heart/mind is good like an abyss” (xin shan yuan)—here “heart” means water’s inner state. Rivers and seas are vast and deep; stir them and they are not easily muddied, and after settling they become clearer still. They can hold all streams, omit nothing, and as things pass they show form and shadow, reflecting the ten thousand things without partiality—therefore we say water’s inner depth is like an abyss.

“Give with good benevolence” (yu shan ren) means that in bestowing, it embodies benevolence—namely making things grow and ceaselessly nourishing them. Water cycles and flows; generation and transformation never exhaust it. It spreads over the land, bears the ten thousand things, and can also mirror sky and sun. Take from it without limit, use it without depletion—these are its De (virtue/power).

It can unite with the ceaseless generative workings of Heaven and Earth; hence the saying, “In goodness, be like benevolence.”

Water’s virtue is to keep faith without making prior agreements. This is what the ancients meant by “great trust needs no pact.” Consider how water moves: when water leaves the Eastern Sea, water from the Western Sea arrives in its place. It circulates back and forth without fail. Just as water drains through the Tail Gate—the pivot of water and Qi in Daoist thought, where the Du channel at the lower end of the body meets the Ren channel—then flows down from the Celestial River to the farthest reaches of the sea, completing one circuit each year without breaking faith. Hence the saying, “In speech, be true to your word.”

“In governance, be effective.” Water’s virtue can float the Ten Continents beyond the world of things and bear the Six Directions within the cosmos. Fields have become seas and islands have shifted many times over; water takes in both the vast and the minute, and accommodates both the clear and the turbid. It is called the softest thing under Heaven, yet it moves freely through what is hardest. Nothing can stop it from seeping into every opening. Hence the saying, “In governance, be effective.”

“In your work, be capable.” Water’s action is soft yet able to be hard, weak yet able to be strong. It nourishes all living things and moistens the Nine Provinces; it flows through Heaven and Earth and cuts through what is hard and unyielding. It can turn land into depths, bore through cliffs and stones, lower what is high, and sift away the turbid while leaving the clear. Heaven and Earth depend on it for transport; plants and animals receive its abundant nourishment. Hence the saying, “In your work, be capable.”

“In movement, be timely.” Water is always flowing and always moving. The ancients said, “Flowing water does not grow stale”—surely this is movement at its best. The Jing also says: “Nothing under Heaven is softer or weaker than water, yet nothing surpasses it in overcoming the hard and strong. Nothing can take its place.” The tides arrive only at their appointed times; in the human body, too, water and fire must work together and move at the proper time. Hence the saying, “In movement, be timely.”

“Because it does not contend, it has no cause for blame.” “Because” is a particle of emphasis; “blame” refers to regret or reluctance. The meaning is that water’s virtue does not contend with other things, and so it has no regrets. Once, Zigong asked, “Why does a gentleman always observe great bodies of water when he sees them?” Confucius replied that great water resembles virtue, the Dao, courage, timidity, uprightness, discernment, resolve, and the capacity to transform for the better. Such is water’s virtue; therefore, a gentleman must observe it. In light of this, what cause for regret could there be?

Yang Zhiren says: “‘The highest goodness is like water’ through ‘therefore it has no cause for blame’ means that the nature of a gentleman who embraces the Dao is like water: he is good at helping the people and benefiting all things. Stir it and it does not become turbid; let it settle and it does not become clear. Its nature is to flow downward, and it does not look down on what is above.” The following phrase, “When it is abundant,” appears to summarize the chapter as a whole, though the source text may be incomplete after these words. Following the usual reading, the sense continues: “A gentleman takes water as his model and does not contend; therefore, he has no cause for blame.”

This passage uses water as a metaphor to explain the saying from the Daodejing (Dao De Jing), "The highest good is like water" (shangshan ruoshui). The scripture first observes that water takes the shape of a square vessel when held in a square container and of a round one when held in a round basin. Rivers flow on without end because they contain water, and the Five Phases (Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth) also depend on water to be established. The Huashu (Book of Transformations) says that water can drown a person, and so water is close to the Dao (the Way). The Dao nourishes the myriad things and dwells in low places. Water is deep and clear, and a good human heart is like a deep abyss. All things grow by means of water. In dealing with others, water values benevolence (ren), reflecting things without losing their form. In speech it values sincerity and remains clear and calm. In governing it values order, becoming square or round, bent or straight as the situation requires. In action it values timing, dispersing in summer and congealing in winter, so that both motion and stillness accord with the moment. Because water does not contend, its virtue (de) is profound and free of fault. Mengzi said that human nature is good, just as water flows downward. No person is without goodness, just as no water fails to flow downward.

The commentary follows. The commentator says that water dwells in the lowest and dampest places, which people despise. It has no emotion and no desire, and it is the most level thing under heaven. The person of supreme goodness is like water. Shangshan is equivalent to shangde (supreme virtue), meaning the most lofty virtue, and it describes a person of utmost goodness.

Older interpretations hold that water has three capacities that bring it close to the Dao, and that it also has seven good ways of dwelling, all of which benefit the myriad things. The first capacity is that water is calm and moistens everything. Without water in the heavens there would be great drought, and without it on the earth all things would wither. Because water benefits all things, it is called shanli (beneficial goodness). The second is that nothing under heaven is weaker than water. It abandons the solid for the empty and turns from high places toward low ones. When blocked it stops, and when channeled it rushes forth, yielding to whatever force directs it. Therefore it is called buzheng (non-contention). The third is that people naturally dislike dwelling low, yet water willingly stays in low, damp places. It makes the myriad things clean and bright while itself receiving filth. For this reason the text says that water "dwells where all people despise."

The commentator further explains ji as "near" or "approaching." The phrase tian yi sheng shui (Heaven's One gives birth to water) names the "One" as the Dao. The One of the Dao is the One within non-being, and the One of water is the One within being. The One within non-being is the substance of the Dao, and the One within being is its function. Therefore water is said to be ji yu dao, close to the Dao.

The seven goods are the goods that the perfected person dwells in. The first is to be skilled at holding to humility and yielding, and at accords with the myriad things. Such a person naturally transforms the village, like water that rests on the earth, content to be low and to nourish all things. This is why the text says ju shan di (dwelling in good ground). The second is that the mind of the perfected person perceives subtle things and is clear and penetrating. Like the water of a deep abyss, it is clear and transparent and does not lose its stillness. This is why the text says xin shan yuan (the mind is good as an abyss).

Across the ages, the Daoist classic Laozi’s Daode Jing has remained firmly rooted. Its reach extends beyond philosophical speculation and has permeated every aspect of social and cultural life, giving rise to distinctive methods of cultivating body and mind. These include nourishing body and mind, tempering one’s character, living simply with few desires, avoiding contention, observing in stillness, knowing when to be content and when to withdraw. In this way, one can rise above worldly concerns, dispel defilement, worry, anger, resentment, and desire, and let one’s spirit and vitality become clear, pure, and harmonious, so that one may live freely and at ease, in health of body and mind.

Likewise, a ruler who deeply understands the Great Way expressed in the saying, “Water can carry a boat, but it can also capsize it,” holds fast to these principles: dwell in a suitable place, keep the heart deep, treat others with kindness, speak with sincerity, govern effectively, act according to one’s abilities, and move at the right time. Such a ruler embodies the saying, “By not contending, none in the world can contend with you.” Broad-minded in dealing with others, resolute and steady, clear-sighted and self-disciplined, the ruler acts as carefully as one would arrange water in a vessel and keeps the heart balanced and at peace. In this way, the ruler can win people’s trust and loyalty, earn the confidence of all under Heaven, and help society grow ever healthier. A flourishing human culture and good government throughout the world may then be within reach.

What of leading scientists in an age of advanced technology and rapidly developing human intelligence? When they compare Laozi’s understanding of the Way of Heaven with the reality of the world’s increasingly damaged ecological environment, and suddenly grasp the principles of nature as an organic whole and of its self-regulating balance, have they not found the right guiding principles for saving Earth’s ecology? Yet if Laozi’s Daode Jing had been revered by the world earlier, and people had been as clear-sighted as Laozi, would humanity have set its heart on worshipping the false gods of high technology, gone astray, and failed to reach true happiness?

17, Lane 27, Jinhu Road

Neihu District, Taipei City

An auspicious day in the fourth month of the seventy-sixth year of the Republic of China

(1987)

Inscribed by Master Peng

Two

The virtue of Xi and Xi, the great pivot at the center; human relations and human law, though rich and profound, circulate through all things, bringing life and renewal, expelling the old and taking in the new, reaching the utmost in true essence.

2)

Preface to Collected Meanings of the True Classic of the Way and Its Virtue

Preface to Collected Meanings of the True Classic of the Way and Its Virtue

Preface to Collected Meanings of the True Classic of the Way and Its Virtue

Preface to Collected Meanings of the True Classic of the Way and Its Virtue

Preface to Collected Meanings of the True Classic of the Way and Its Virtue

Preface to Collected Meanings of the True Classic of the Way and Its Virtue

Preface to Collected Meanings of the True Classic of the Way and Its Virtue

Preface to Collected Meanings of the True Classic of the Way and Its Virtue## A Plain-Language Interpretation

I. The perfected person and the “seven excellences” (using water as a metaphor for De)

The perfected person treats everyone with compassion and generosity, without distinguishing between those near and far, like water nourishing all things without end. This is called kindness in relating to others (goodness in accord with benevolence).

The perfected person speaks honestly and with conviction, in keeping with the facts, like the tides that come and go without fail, day and night. This is called sincerity in speech.

The perfected person governs with an even mind toward all, so that people naturally comply and all is brought into order, like clear water that reveals high and low, beauty and ugliness, leaving nothing able to hide its true form. This is called good governance.

The perfected person handles affairs by putting each ability to good use, assigning roles according to aptitude so that each person is suited to the task, like water taking the shape of whatever is round, square, long, or short. This is called aptitude in action.

The perfected person acts and rests in step with the times, responding to circumstances and never becoming fixed in one way, like water freezing in winter and flowing in summer, never out of season. This is called timeliness in action.

Water settles what is uneven and stills the impulse to contend. There is indeed a way to learn by observing water. Confucius once watched water flowing eastward. Zigong asked, “Whenever a gentleman sees a great body of water, he must observe it. Why is that?” Confucius replied: “Because it never ceases. Water resembles De: it flows downward, settling in low places, yet follows its proper course—this resembles righteousness. Its vastness knows no end or limit—this resembles the Dao. It plunges over a hundred fathoms without fear—this resembles courage. Its surface is level whenever it is measured—this resembles fairness. It fills without seeking to be watered in return—this resembles rectitude. It moves gently and reaches into the smallest places—this resembles discernment. It flows eastward from its source—this resembles purpose. It emerges and enters, transforming all things—this resembles the power to transform for the good. That is why a gentleman must observe it.” The ancients had good reason to take water as their model.

II. Xu Liuxu (or a commentator) explains “The highest goodness is like water”

“The highest goodness is like water,” and so it is close to the Dao. One who has the Dao embodies the highest goodness; this goodness can be surpassed by no other. Only water can serve as its metaphor, hence the saying, “The highest goodness is like water.” Water’s goodness lies in benefiting all things without contending: it leaves the heights and flows downward, taking the lowly place for itself. To say that it does not contend means that it makes no distinctions between great and small, high and low. The people of the world are like those who leave a secluded valley and move to a flourishing tree (a metaphor for changing in accord with what is right)…

Note: The source contains interspersed annotations and printing errors, including “Xu Liuxu,” which may be a note such as “Xu says.” These have been rendered coherently according to the context. In Confucius’s passage on water, the seven qualities—righteousness, the Dao, courage, fairness, discernment, purpose, and transforming for the good—echo the excellences discussed above, such as speech, governance, conduct, and timely action. All use the De of water to explain why a gentleman observes it.

Plain-Language Interpretation

(Continuing from the previous passage) People like high places, but water leaves them behind and flows downward. People dislike low places, yet water willingly stays there. So water is said to be close to the Dao (the Way), approaching the state of the Dao. It is also said to be almost the same as the Dao.

In dwelling, be good at choosing a place: A person of the Dao fits in wherever they go, whether the terrain is level or rugged, square or round, just as water is good at finding a suitable place to rest.

In the heart, be good at depth: Let the heart be like a deep pool, reflecting all things while remaining clear and still, undisturbed.

In giving, be good at benevolence: Be compassionate, treating those close to you and those far away alike, and extending benevolence as water nourishes all things.

In speech, be good at trustworthiness: Be sincere within and reliable in giving directions outwardly, keeping faith as the tides rise and fall on schedule.

In governing, be good at bringing order: Be fair in conduct and clear in rewards and punishments, as water is good at bringing things into order and allowing each to find its proper place.

In one’s work, be good at ability: Help others in daily life and work without shirking, accomplishing things as water does through irrigation and transport.

In action, be good at timing: Rise and decline each have their proper course; there is no need to force advance or retreat. Like water flowing with the seasons, sometimes abundant and sometimes dried up, be good at recognizing the right moment.

Precisely because one does not contend, there is no blame: Only a person of the Dao who, like water, does good without contending with things leaves nothing in the world for which they can be blamed. “Blame” here means fault or reproach.

Chai Yuangao says: “The highest goodness is like water”—water’s De (Virtue/Power) could not be surpassed. Water benefits all things without contending; it nourishes them and flows downward, dwelling in the low places people dislike. Wherever there is filth, water goes to wash it away. That is why it is said to be “almost close to the Dao”—at a point only a hair’s breadth from the Dao. “In dwelling, be good at choosing a place” is like the stopping and downward movement of the Water Trigram. “In the heart, be good at depth” means being clear and reflecting things. “In giving, be good at benevolence” means helping things and making them useful. “In speech, be good at trustworthiness” means keeping time like the tides. “In governing, be good at bringing order” means being calm and free of clamor. “In one’s work, be good at ability” means accomplishing things through irrigation. “In action, be good at timing” means bringing forth life in spring and drying up in autumn. Take goodness as one’s substance and non-contention as one’s function; then each use will be free of error.

Su Jingjing says: From “The highest goodness is like water” to “there is no blame,” Laozi’s true meaning lies entirely in the two words “not contending.” “Goodness” means the highest principle of goodness in the world. Nothing among the myriad things surpasses water: all things depend on water to grow. This is how water benefits all things, yet when has it ever contended by saying, “I am benefiting you”? People dislike dwelling downstream; only water flows toward the damp places, dwelling without complaint where others dislike being. If people can, like water, benefit the world by nourishing it, without aspiring to high places or distant heights, they embody the highest goodness and are almost close to possessing the Dao.

Collected Interpretations of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue (II)

Scriptural Text:

How can those who cultivate the Dao embody goodness like water? In choosing where to dwell, they should prefer low places, as water nourishes all things. Their minds should be deep and still, as water is deep and unfathomable. In what they give, they should be generous and help the many, as water irrigates what has withered. In keeping faith, they should be true and reliable, as water makes a sound when it strikes. In governing, they should attend to what needs setting right, as water follows its course downstream. In handling affairs, they should use their abilities, as water rushes swiftly through rapids. In their actions, they should be adept at recognizing the right time, as water rises in summer and dries up in autumn. These seven qualities are all goodness like water, yet still fall short of water’s goodness. What is water’s highest goodness? Is it that water benefits all without contending? Because it does not contend, it incurs no blame. This is like Yu: because Yu never boasted, no one under Heaven could contend with him in ability; because Yu never took credit, no one under Heaven could contend with him in merit. What could be a higher goodness under Heaven than this?

Nothing is more central to Laozi’s teaching than non-contention. He says, “Do not exalt the worthy, and the people will not contend”; “Because one does not contend, no one under Heaven can contend with them”; “This is called the Virtue of non-contention”; “The Way of Heaven does not contend, yet excels at prevailing”; and “The way of the sage is to act without contending.” Together with the teaching that not contending brings no blame, this makes six such passages. The voice of the heart, once it speaks, cannot be concealed. One who can endure and accept all humiliation and disgrace is able both to “act” and to “refrain from acting.” One may have accomplishments that surpass others, yet regard them as nothing; one may possess wisdom and ability enough to outshine the world, yet keep them hidden and unused. If one’s inner resources are never put forward to take the lead under Heaven, how could one contend? It is fitting that this be called the highest goodness.

Plain-language interpretation:

How can those who cultivate the Dao embody goodness like water? In choosing where to dwell, they should prefer low places, as water nourishes all things. Their minds should be deep and still, as water is deep and unfathomable. In what they give, they should be generous and help the many, as water irrigates what has withered. In keeping faith, they should be true and reliable, as water makes a sound when it strikes. In governing, they should attend to what needs setting right, as water follows its course downstream. In handling affairs, they should use their abilities, as water rushes swiftly through rapids. In their actions, they should be adept at recognizing the right time, as water rises in summer and dries up in autumn. These seven qualities are all goodness like water, yet still fall short of water’s goodness. What is water’s highest goodness? Is it that water benefits all without contending? Because it does not contend, it incurs no blame. This is like Yu: because Yu never boasted, no one under Heaven could contend with him in ability; because Yu never took credit, no one under Heaven could contend with him in merit. What could be a higher goodness under Heaven than this?

Nothing is more central to Laozi’s teaching than non-contention. He says, “Do not exalt the worthy, and the people will not contend”; “Because one does not contend, no one under Heaven can contend with them”; “This is called the Virtue of non-contention”; “The Way of Heaven does not contend, yet excels at prevailing”; and “The way of the sage is to act without contending.” Together with the teaching that not contending brings no blame, this makes six such passages. The voice of the heart, once it speaks, cannot be concealed. One who can endure and accept all humiliation and disgrace is able both to “act” and to “refrain from acting.” One may have accomplishments that surpass others, yet regard them as nothing; one may possess wisdom and ability enough to outshine the world, yet keep them hidden and unused. If one’s inner resources are never put forward to take the lead under Heaven, how could one contend? It is fitting that this be called the highest goodness.

The lay scholar Yian says: “The highest goodness is like water.” It is ultimate, and so brings no blame; no goodness can be named in it. That is perfection. When goodness can be named, yet proceeds naturally and at ease like water, it is goodness at its highest. To benefit all things is to achieve merit; once merit has been achieved, contention is inevitable. To achieve merit without contending is difficult indeed. And to dwell in places everyone dislikes without regarding them as defiling—is that not more difficult still? Those who are said to be close to the Dao are one step below the nameless, ultimate Dao. Dwelling, mind, giving, speech, governance, action, and movement: these seven belong to human affairs. Being good at choosing a place means that water follows the land’s high and low contours. Being good at depth means that water is still and deep, undisturbed. Being good at benevolence means that water’s nourishing benefits are inexhaustible. Being good at faith means that water’s course never misses its appointed time. Being good at governance means that water flows freely without obstruction. Being good at ability means that water, as it descends, reaches its destination. Being good at timing means that water moves in response to the seasons. These seven kinds of goodness are all goodness in human affairs, yet they still do not match the goodness of water. Water’s goodness lies in not contending; because it does not contend, it incurs no blame. Yu did not boast, so no one could contend with him in ability; Yu did not take credit, so no one could contend with him in merit. This Virtue of non-contention is the highest expression of supreme goodness.

Plain-language interpretation:

The lay scholar Yian says: “The highest goodness is like water.” It is ultimate, and so brings no blame; no goodness can be named in it. That is perfection. When goodness can be named, yet proceeds naturally and at ease like water, it is goodness at its highest. To benefit all things is to achieve merit; once merit has been achieved, contention is inevitable. To achieve merit without contending is difficult indeed. And to dwell in places everyone dislikes without regarding them as defiling—is that not more difficult still? Those who are said to be close to the Dao are one step below the nameless, ultimate Dao. Dwelling, mind, giving, speech, governance, action, and movement: these seven belong to human affairs. Being good at choosing a place means that water follows the land’s high and low contours. Being good at depth means that water is still and deep, undisturbed. Being good at benevolence means that water’s nourishing benefits are inexhaustible. Being good at faith means that water’s course never misses its appointed time. Being good at governance means that water flows freely without obstruction. Being good at ability means that water, as it descends, reaches its destination. Being good at timing means that water moves in response to the seasons. These seven kinds of goodness are all goodness in human affairs, yet they still do not match the goodness of water. Water’s goodness lies in not contending; because it does not contend, it incurs no blame. Yu did not boast, so no one could contend with him in ability; Yu did not take credit, so no one could contend with him in merit. This Virtue of non-contention is the highest expression of supreme goodness.

Plain-Language Interpretation

(Explanation of the preceding passage)

“Stillness” means not deceiving oneself. “Good governance” is like water washing over all things without leaving anything obstructed. “Ability” is like water, which can flow, seep through, and overcome what is hard. “Timing” is like water, which is sometimes full and sometimes dried up, changing in response to the season. If people carry out the “seven practices” of self-cultivation and conduct alongside the “seven virtues” symbolized by water, and also persist in not contending, as water does, then they can be called truly good. If someone claims to have all seven virtues but cannot let go of even a trace of contention, how could they avoid resentment?

Shi Tan says:

“The highest good is like water. Water benefits all things and does not contend. It dwells where people dislike to be, and so is close to the Dao. In dwelling, it chooses the right place; in its heart, it is deep; in giving, it is kind; in speech, it is trustworthy; in governance, it is orderly; in its work, it is capable; in its actions, it is timely. Because it does not contend, it is free of blame.”

The general meaning is this: the highest good is like water. Water is skilled at nourishing all things, without competing with them for benefit. It willingly stays in low places where people do not wish to be, and so draws close to the Dao.

Here, water’s virtues are used as a metaphor for human goodness. Water benefits all things, which flourish when they receive it: this is how it “benefits all things.” Water never competes with other things for superiority: this is how it “does not contend.” Water naturally flows downward, while people dislike living in low places. Precisely because water does not contend and willingly stays where people dislike to be, it is close to the Dao.

By comparison:

• In dwelling, it chooses the right place: People should live and conduct themselves in ways that, like water, help all things.
• In its heart, it is deep: The heart should be like still water, at rest and undisturbed by ripples.
• In speech, it is trustworthy: Words should be like the tides, arriving on schedule without fail.
• In governance, it is orderly: Governance should be like clear water that reflects things, concealing neither high nor low, beauty nor ugliness.
• In its work, it is capable: In carrying out tasks, one should be like water taking the shape of its vessel, adapting to whatever form it encounters.
• In its actions, it is timely: One should act like water, abundant in spring and diminished in autumn, in keeping with the seasons.

All of these follow their own natural course and do not compete with other things, so they give rise to no resentment.

From “In dwelling, it chooses the right place” onward, the chapter is originally speaking of how the highest human goodness resembles water. If these lines are forced to describe water’s own nature, meanings such as “speech” and “governance” no longer make sense. The earlier line, “Water benefits all things and does not contend, and so is close to the Dao,” describes water’s goodness; the seven virtues beginning with “In dwelling, it chooses the right place” describe human goodness as resembling water’s goodness. In the end, the whole chapter’s central message comes down to one word: not contending.