《道德真經集義(二)》Vol. 16

This passage describes the state of body-mind unity in the Daoist cultivation process. "Can you keep the spirit and the body united without separation?" means that the physical form (the corporeal soul, or po, belongs to yin) cannot move on its own but relies on qi (the vital energy) to activate it. Maintaining this inseparable connection between qi and the physical form is called "embracing the One" (preserving the unity of body and mind).

When practitioners reach the stage of sustaining this state for extended periods, they naturally attain the realm of forgetting the physical form, focusing entirely on nourishing the primordial qi. Ordinary people engage in conflicts with the external world precisely because they are burdened by their physical forms. If one can forget the physical form like an infant, they will be free from the troubles of contention—this is called "achieving softness" (attaining a state of pliancy), which is an expression of life itself.

The passage then discusses "cleansing the profound mirror so it is without blemish." Here, even the physical form and qi are forgotten, and the mind becomes as pure as if washed clean, flawless like the void. "Loving the people and governing the state without deliberate action" means that reaching the state of wuwei (non-action) in cultivation is not achieved overnight—it must pass through the stages of "embracing the One," "achieving softness," and "the flawless profound mirror" before it can be realized.

The text uses the metaphor of governing a state to represent the body and the people to represent the spirit. Governing a nation and nurturing the body follow the same principle. "When the heavenly gate opens and closes, can you remain passive?" Here, the "heavenly gate" refers to the fontanel at the top of an infant's head (the soft spot), which remains unsealed. When cultivation reaches this stage, the heavenly gate can open and close freely, connecting with the Dao of heaven. "Passive" here refers to a state of softness and receptivity.

Finally, "understanding everything clearly, can you remain without knowledge?" speaks of true wisdom not as deliberate knowing but as a natural clarity, like opening one's eyes to see. Deliberately pursuing knowledge or ignorance is, in fact, a sickness of the mind. Just as Nie Que asked Wang Ni four questions, and Wang Ni answered "I don't know" each time, Nie Que was so delighted he leaped for joy—precisely because he grasped the true meaning of "without knowledge."

"The Dao gives birth to and nurtures all things—this is called profound De (virtue/power)." This line appears twice in the scripture, referring to the mysterious virtue of the Dao in giving life to all things without claiming possession. The entire passage outlines six progressive stages of cultivation, from the elementary to the advanced, ultimately reaching the state of "profound De," where one becomes united with the Dao.

The previous discussion was about the Dao (the Way); now we turn to De (Virtue/Power). When the Dao manifests concretely, it becomes De, and the most sublime De can reunite with the Dao—this is called "profound De" (Xuande, the mysterious and profound Virtue).

Scholar Cheng Taizhi explains that the "One" mentioned in the phrase "Can you hold the soul and embrace the One without departing?" refers to the unifying principle that governs all things. When emotions like joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure are about to arise but have not yet manifested, when intelligence and talent are on the verge of emerging but remain latent—to gather all transformations into this singular, undivided, and pure state is the first differentiation from the Dao. The Dao is originally an undifferentiated whole; when it manifests in concrete phenomena, we call it De, which is already distinct from the Dao. From De further emerge the distinctions of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and faithfulness. The further one moves from the source, the more branches proliferate. What was once a unified Dao now splits into five opposing concepts, and these five in turn give rise to countless subdivisions. Hence, Laozi laments: "When the Dao is lost, De arises; when De is lost, benevolence and righteousness appear." Here, "lost" does not mean complete disappearance but rather moving ever further from the root, multiplying distinctions and diverging from the original nature of the "One."

Laozi most revered the subtle, profound, and unified primordial state. The ancient sage Yi Yin described his attainment as the perfect fusion of De and goodness. To examine the beginning and end of all things, one must take the "One" as the standard. The Liezi story of "losing the sheep because of too many forks in the road" illustrates how only by returning to the root can one avoid gain and loss. Zhuangzi states that De is governed by the "One" of the Dao. Whether we speak of "governing" or "returning," the emphasis is on reverting to the origin. Therefore, the first step in cultivating the Dao is to "embrace the One" (hold fast to undivided purity).

In human beings, the spirit is called hun (ethereal soul), and the physical form is called po (corporeal soul). The part of the moon that cannot reflect sunlight is also called "po." Here, "yingpo" (nourished corporeal soul) is the counterpart to the "wandering hun" (youhun) mentioned in the Yijing (Book of Changes). "Wandering" suggests lightness and movement, while "nourished" resembles a military camp—stationary and constrained, unable to move freely. Thus, the ascent and descent of form and spirit are pivotal to one's being. If the spirit governs the form, then all actions are under one's control; if the spirit fails to govern and is instead dragged by the form, a person declines. Here, the spirit is likened to a carriage, and the form to cargo—when the carriage moves, the cargo rides upon it, representing the state where the spirit successfully carries the form. If a person can achieve this...

The Mysterious Gaze and the Infant

To contemplate the ever-changing, unfathomable Mystery and become attuned to it is not to be like an infant who makes no distinctions and remains muddled. “Seeing only at dawn” means that when everything is treated in terms of its counterpart, the mind races outward in search of things and loses the way of applying the Dao within. “Dim and bewildered” means being dazed and confused, unable to see the path ahead. “What the mind’s eye grows accustomed to is calm, natural, and vital” means that if one grasps this essential point, one can preserve clarity and brightness, never straying from the infant’s primal innocence. Hearing the Confucian teaching “restrain anger and curb desire,” Laozi focused instead on turning inward and not letting one’s will run after external affairs. When the mind is still, its radiance is held within, becoming utterly clear. Yet people may recognize this way of seeing and still waver between right and wrong. So Laozi also teaches “cleansing and clearing”: when one gazes into the depths of Mystery, is there truly no flaw? After Confucius and Laozi, the Confucians sharply divided inner and outer. For this reason, I place this passage with the “words of entering the chamber of nonbeing” recorded in the River Chart. Here the word “official” brings together the sense of “one mind”; it also allows those who gather and refine their Qi to let their innate goodness flow freely as one.

Stillness and the Mysterious Gaze

Stillness and Wuwei (non-action) accord with Laozi’s original intent. To understand: the “Mysterious Gaze” means looking from a remote, profound place and seeing clearly. It accords with Zhuangzi’s “seeing the solitary”—the clear awareness that appears alone in the depths of Mystery. In ordinary people, the left and right eyes serve the same purpose. Practitioners of the Dao regard the left eye as Li fire, gazing into Mystery and connecting with the workings of creation. This still returns to “embracing the One” and “cleansing and clearing the Mysterious Gaze”: only when the source of the mind is clear can one see truly; only when one sees truly can the mind’s source avoid being pulled along by things. One lets things come and go in the realm of Mystery without stubbornly rejecting them. This is called the “Mysterious Gaze.” It is like the saying in Zhuangzi, in the chapter attributed to Chu, that the sage neither schemes nor forces an outcome, neither carves away nor brings things forth by force. The sage acts without relying on schemes or cutting and pruning. In this way, one can gather in the will and unite mind and body. Ma Rong says, “Gaze means observe”; Zheng Xuan’s explanation of “read widely in the classics” in the Book of Rites also draws on this sense.

Knowing, Mysterious Communion, and “Skillful Gathering”

One cannot be entirely without intelligence and understanding, but neither can one rely on them alone. If intelligence and knowledge reach outward in search of things, they cannot recognize the Mystery. If they cannot recognize it, how could they accord with it in all things and act in harmony with the Dao? This leads to the discussion of knowing: understand how to connect with the Mystery and preserve that connection, acting with careful attention and without letting oneself run wild in worldly affairs. This is what is meant by “skillful gathering”—skill in collecting and holding things together. Words and actions may be called “good,” but in truth they are a matter of cultivating De. At the deepest stage of the Mysterious Gaze, without this kind of steadiness, reckless movement will harm oneself, and great De will become an empty shell. Hence silence may lead to understanding, though most people are busy speaking. Once trustworthiness has been established, one need not say much. To speak of what one believes without going too far—that is true trust.

Words, Trust, Herding, and “Quietude” and “Joy”

Zhuangzi says, “Those with mouths need not speak,” Laozi says, “Those who know do not speak,” and Confucius says, “Trustworthiness draws the people near.” These all bear on governing and shepherding the world: when words are fulfilled, trust is established, in keeping with the teaching in the chapter on self-cultivation that one should distinguish and attain what is good and beautiful. People often cling to the word “quietude,” hoping to preserve the Dao’s stillness and benefit things by remaining calm. But Laozi fears that if people turn a quiet mind into a fixed rule, they will stir up joy and anger; that misses the original sense of quietude and joy. So the text begins the next passage with “now”: if one cannot nurture harmony and give rise to joy, one should all the more gather in one’s joy and settle it in the One without losing harmony, allowing movement and stillness to follow one another with ease. This is the meaning of “I alone am still, without any sign of stirring.” Others may not deeply trust that “cleansing and clearing” is beneficial, but Laozi trusts that it leads back to the root and restores one’s destiny. Thus, what cannot be put to use need not be forced into service as a supposedly proper method.

Warp and Weft, Form, and “Not the Dao”

Warp and weft can be used to make forms such as a wheel’s rim, but what is made is only a form, not the Dao itself. The Dao abides in the Uncarved Block. Its De is vast and bright, yet, unlike a visible form, it cannot be pointed out. Laozi says, “Embrace the One, and it becomes the pattern for all under Heaven,” and also uses the compass, square, and measuring line as metaphors. When rules become too elaborate, they approach the opposite of “the great shaping does not cut”: the greatest shaping does not divide what is natural. Ruling the people by suppressing them with a cudgel is a debased method. Nor did the ancient practice of governing by knotted cords depend on cutting apart human nature. All these examples make the same point: a form that can be made must not be mistaken for the Dao.

Warfare, Non-Harm, and the Worthy

Warfare is a last resort from the Dao’s point of view; benefiting things without harming them is the direction of De. Zhuangzi’s discussion of the De of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi’s saying that “the good do not assert themselves as right, and things do not assert themselves as right” both reject relying on force to attack and subdue things. The worthy can shepherd the world without resorting to weapons and punishments. If one can already embrace all things through De, why pride oneself on cutting and controlling them?

Debate, Breadth, and “The Greatest Debate Does Not Rely on Argument”

“Skillful debate” ceases to be skillful when it degenerates into verbal sparring. The Lu school says, “The greatest debate does not rely on argument”: the highest debate does not depend on clever disputation. Nor is a person truly broad-minded merely because their learning consists of scattered bits of information. The sage is inwardly complete and does not seek to display breadth through argument. Looking up to observe and looking down to examine are ways of keeping measure with Heaven and Earth, not of winning a debate.

Closing, Bearing, and Knotted Cords

“Skillful closing” means being able to shut and open, like a door that bears its own weight or a cart that carries its load, each serving its proper use. Laozi’s “skillful closing needs no bolt, yet cannot be opened” means closing naturally, without relying on ingenious mechanisms. True closing, like the ancient way of governing by knotted cords, is simple and does no harm to what is innate.

The Sage: Knowing and Not Knowing

The sage does not take pride in knowledge or abilities. Ordinary learning seeks knowledge outwardly, while the sage has “the knowledge of no learning”—neither adding to nor diminishing what is already complete within one’s nature. Hence the saying, “I alone have the heart of a fool.” This does not mean being truly foolish, but refusing to compete with conventional learning over who knows more.

Frugality, Sealing, Returning De, and “Planting Peace”

“Frugality” means restraint and gathering in, not stinginess; it is the nurturing of what one has without letting it spill out. “Sealing”—closing and storing away—becomes a constraint if taken too far. Phrases such as “returning De” and “planting peace” all point to the same idea: De should be cultivated inwardly. One should not rush into action and keep acting without end, like the restless striving described in the Analects as “acting without cease.”

“Responding to Emperors and Kings” and Calm Detachment

In Zhuangzi’s “Responding to Emperors and Kings,” one finds the words, “You will forget yourself and become foolish in the matter you are discussing.” This shares the spirit of Laozi’s “cut off learning, and there will be no worries.” Calm detachment is how the sage carries themselves in the world. It is not indifference, but freedom from being ruled by things.

The Earl of the River, the Sea Spirit, and “Sitting Still While the Mind Races”

When the Earl of the River asks the Sea Spirit, the Sea Spirit replies, “You cannot speak of the sea to a well frog.” This contrasts with “sitting still while the mind races,” in which the body remains seated while the spirit wanders. If the mind is not still, even wide reading becomes a case of sitting still while the mind races. If one listens but does not accept what is heard, argument is of no use.

Faint Light, Excess, and Holding to Fullness

One must not rely on the faint glimmer of small cleverness. Holding to fullness and excessive abundance both warn against pride and excess. Jie, the last ruler of the Xia dynasty, serves as a negative example, set against the warning not to be careless even in small matters.

Reading Words Through the Dao

The opening chapter of Laozi’s text says, “The Dao that can be spoken is not the constant Dao.” This passage restates the point: viewed through the Dao, words cannot exhaust it. The arguments of smooth-talking debaters are beneath the sage’s concern. Whether Confucius is praised or criticized, both positions remain caught in names and appearances.

The Overall Meaning

The chapter asks one question after another for people who have glimpsed the Dao but have not yet learned to hold fast to it. Embrace the One, cleanse and clear the Mysterious Gaze, refine Qi with the innocence of an infant, keep the gaze free of flaws, gather skillfully, be trustworthy, close skillfully, avoid warfare, and let great shaping leave things undivided. If one can truly hold to these without ever letting them go, one becomes one with the Dao. If one still speaks in terms of uncertainty, it is because one has not yet reached complete resolve. Wang Bi’s commentary largely accords with this interpretation. Readers should make inward reflection and stillness their destination, and should not mistake form for the Dao or broad argument for De.

When someone gained an insight, they would return and put themselves in order: summoning what their heart delighted in and removing what it disliked. Ten days later, they went to see Laozi again. Laozi praised their ability to purify themselves.

Chu asked about eyesight, but Laozi told him about temperament. If Chu could purify his own temperament, the obscuring influences would naturally fall away, and he could return to his original mind.

Thus, “cleanse the mysterious mirror”—clear away distracting thoughts and observe with a mysterious mind—does not mean exerting effort on the eyes. It means investigating what causes the obscuring and purifying it. Then everything that can be clearly seen can return to its original state. Return to your original mind, and you can observe with a mysterious mind.

“Can you love the people and govern the state while practicing Wuwei (non-action)?” To love the people and govern the state, one must have laws and standards through which to carry out one’s intentions; only then can one succeed. All the arrangements for establishing government and conducting affairs consist of such laws and standards. Yet once laws and standards are in place, one is also cautioned against artifice. Zhuangzi put it plainly: “I have heard of governing the world through non-action, but never of governing it through deliberate action.” By “letting things be” (zaiyou), he meant discarding cleverness and setting aside rewards and punishments, responding to the natural feelings of life and nature, and leaving things in peace. One acts with ease and without contrivance, so that the myriad things are not burdened. There is a realm beyond laws and regulations; this is what is meant by Wuwei. Thus, merely following old ways cannot bring good order through deliberate action, while excessive effort often leads to needless meddling. The caution here therefore asks: who can love the people and govern the state without resorting to deliberate artifice? Letting principle take its course through Wuwei—what a later chapter calls “governing a great state is like cooking a small fish”—is what is meant by Wuwei.

“Can you open and close Heaven’s Gate while remaining receptive?” Zhuangzi once pointed to the place where all things in the universe pass in and out of life and death, being and nonbeing, and called it “Heaven’s Gate”—the gate of Heaven itself. Later, when discussing how the Dao cannot be conveyed in words, he said that if the mind judges something to be wrong, Heaven’s Gate will not open. Here, the human mind is also called Heaven’s Gate. Since Heaven’s Gate is the passage through which things are born and transformed and enter and depart, the human Heaven’s Gate is likewise where Heaven’s workings come and go. The Creator’s contracting and expanding, and the successive transformations of Yin-Yang, govern the opening and closing of Heaven’s Gate. If people can be careful in what they take up and relinquish, preserve and abandon, and can discern what is fitting before accepting or rejecting it, then they too can govern the opening and closing of the Heaven’s Gate within themselves. Cultivating oneself to this point is enough.

This passage interprets “clear and penetrating in all directions,” “giving life without possessing, acting without relying on one’s efforts, and nurturing without ruling,” and related ideas from the Dao De Jing through the Daoist lens of “Mysterious De.” Its general meaning is as follows.

Clear and penetrating in all directions, without relying on cleverness

Would it not be better to begin from the natural state of the world, letting things emerge from within outward, and acting only when the time calls for it, without rushing ahead of the myriad things? “Clear and penetrating in all directions”—transparent and unobstructed on every side—can one achieve this while remaining “without knowing”? Here, “clear” means not being obscured, and “bright” means not falling into darkness; “penetrating in all directions” means having no barriers or obstructions, with every direction open. Whether something lies beyond the farthest reaches of the wilderness or close before my eyes, if a faint sound or indistinct sign concerns me, I can perceive it. This is what it means to be clear and to penetrate in all directions. When ordinary people force themselves to achieve this, they often become too clever in daily life and too given to hair-splitting when something happens. One who has truly attained the Dao is different: they do not deliberately try to “see,” but see in response to things. The divinatory wisdom of milfoil stalks and tortoise shells, and the clarity of a mirror that reflects whatever is before it, offer useful comparisons. If one’s cultivation has not yet reached this point, sometimes “foolishness” must be used to guard “cleverness,” so that one’s intelligence is not put on display.

“Giving life,” “nurturing,” and returning to the Dao

The root of “giving life” and “nurturing” lies in what was originally nonexistent coming into being through the Dao’s creation; hence the word “giving life,” as in expressions such as “The Dao gives birth to one; one gives birth to two.” Once things have come into being, they are further settled and nourished; this is “nurturing,” as in nurturing virtue through them. From “embracing the One” and “attaining softness” onward, much of this chapter refers to holding fast to De and seeking a return to the Dao. “One,” “softness,” “origin,” and “penetration” speak from the perspective of De, while “not departing” and “without flaw” express the hope of returning to the Dao. “Bearing,” “concentrating,” “cleansing,” and “removing” are ways of cultivating De. Only when De has been cultivated can there be “giving life.”

“One,” “softness,” “origin,” “penetration,” and “nurturing” within oneself

When “One,” “softness,” “origin,” and “penetration” take shape in me, they are expressed in stillness as the capacity to “nurture.” Filial devotion and fraternal respect can give rise to benevolence; goodness that accords with what is desirable can give rise to trustworthiness. All of these may be called “giving life.” Once benevolence has arisen, one sustains it with joy so that goodness does not depart. Once goodness is trustworthy, it is filled out and brought to fullness: this is both giving life and nurturing. “Giving life without possessing” means that although things were originally nonexistent and I take part in bringing them forth and nourishing them, I do not claim their results as my own. This is the state of one who embodies the Dao. Earlier, giving life and nurturing were discussed as ways to complete De; here, the phrase means “possessing without possessing”: to have while seeming to have nothing, to be full while seeming empty, and not to claim credit or become proud.

Acting without relying on one’s efforts, nurturing without ruling, and Mysterious De

“Acting without relying on one’s efforts”: as Zhuangzi says, one does what is fitting without taking pleasure in oneself; hence one does not rely on one’s efforts. “Nurturing without ruling”: one occupies a higher position and remains quietly connected, without showing off the techniques of control. If one truly entrusts everything and does not rule, who would then take hold of the reins? This is called Mysterious De: profound De, in accord with the Dao, that claims no credit and does not rule over things.

If the eight virtues discussed earlier, along with the puzzling points described as “not yet attained,” can all be put fully into practice, then De is complete. Once these eight virtues have been attained, holding to them through “not possessing, not relying, and not dominating” makes one’s De profound and mysterious. Thus, among all forms of De, only “mysterious De” is most profound. De is the manifestation of the Dao in particular things and events; it is not different from the Dao. The saying “when the Dao is lost, then comes De” means that its traces have become too conspicuous. Those with highest De do not consider themselves virtuous, so its traces remain hidden and unseen. Thus, though “mysterious De” bears the name De, its depth is on a par with the Dao.

Zhuangzi answers by recounting Sun Bian’s question: “The Perfect Person forgets liver and gall, leaves behind ears and eyes, and wanders in a daze beyond the dusty world, at ease in the work of doing nothing.” This is what is meant by “acting without relying on one’s actions, and nurturing without dominating.” If you now use cleverness to startle the ignorant crowd, cultivate yourself in order to expose what is sullied, and shine out as though carrying the sun and moon on your journey, how could you have any time to consider Heaven’s anger? By looking back from the people who “carry the sun and moon on their journey,” one can seek within oneself and gain some sense of the state of mysterious De.

A later chapter discusses “the Dao gives birth to them, and De nurtures them,” then concludes with “not possessing, not relying, and not dominating.” This restates the present chapter in greater detail, though with a different emphasis: this chapter concerns the Dao and De in human beings, while the later chapter also discusses human relationships. Laozi’s words sometimes concern Heaven and Earth and the sages; at other times they speak of them together without distinction, showing that Heaven and humanity are fundamentally one. This is a pattern throughout the book. One should not say that when it discusses Heaven, it speaks only of Heaven, and when it discusses humanity, it speaks only of people.

Zhu Xi said: Qu Yuan’s phrase “bearing the hun and po” in the Li Sao derives from Laozi, while Yang Xiong later used the phrase to discuss the moon’s waxing and waning. Although their subjects differ, the intention behind their wording is the same. Yet the commentators on all three works have failed to understand the passage, so I bring them together here in the hope that they may illuminate one another. To carry a person in a carriage is called “bearing”; this is a common expression, both ancient and modern. A person ascending to a high place may also be said to be “borne.” There are many examples in ancient histories, such as the Book of Han account of Liu Zhang’s visit with an usher.

The Han Collection says, “A woman carries a child,” which probably also means this. Now in the statements of the Han Collection, Quzi, and Yangzi, the meanings of the characters are all like this.

Quzi, speaking from the perspective of the human spirit, says that the term ying is interchangeable with the homophone meaning “lustrous and bright, with flickering radiance”; the meaning of the po-soul is close to what earlier commentators discussed when explaining the Nine Songs. Yangzi discusses it through the light of the sun and moon: the moon’s substance is the po-soul, while the sun’s radiance is the hun-soul.

From the perspective of the human spirit, the hun-soul belongs to yang and governs movement, while the po-soul belongs to yin and governs stillness; the hun-soul is fire and the po-soul is water. Fire is two, water is one. Therefore the saying “Carrying the ying-po and embracing the One, can they be without separation?” means to attach the hun-soul to the po-soul, to use movement to guard stillness, to use fire to press water, and to use the two to guard the one, so that the two do not separate—like a person who mounts a carriage and sits securely in it. Then the hun-soul becomes calm and the po-soul becomes bright and clear; fire does not burn dryly and water does not overflow. This is truly the essential secret of long life and enduring vision. Although Quzi did not explain it in detail, judging from the phrase “do not let the hun-soul slip away; await it in emptiness,” his meaning should also come from this.

As for discussing it through the sun and moon, this means that the sun’s light is added to the moon’s po-soul and makes it bright, just as a person mounts a carriage and sits upon it. Hence it says: “Before the full moon, it carries the po-soul in the west; after the full moon, it ends the hun-soul in the east.” This traces the matter back to sunlight: when the moon is newly born, sunlight is added to the west side of the po-soul and gradually fills the east side, becoming completely full only at the full moon. After the full moon, sunlight remains on the east side of the po-soul, and the west side gradually wanes until it is entirely exhausted on the dark day of the month. The moon borrows sunlight to become bright. Before the full moon the sun is on its right; after the full moon the sun is on its left. Each side receives light according to the direction it faces, like common people turning toward the sovereign’s teaching and forming customs.

Although the three men’s statements divide into two explanations, the textual meaning of what they call “carrying the po-soul” is the same. Therefore both alchemical classics and calendrical arts have the Najia method, borrowing from and illuminating each other; their principle is originally no different. It is only that commentators have not investigated deeply. For example, Heshang Gong takes ying as hun-soul, which is certainly not in accord with the meaning of the character and therefore cannot be comprehensive.

This passage discusses how different commentators have understood the word “carry” in the line from the Daodejing, “Carry the hun and po, and hold fast to the One: can you keep them from separating?” It also explains why the author thinks some interpretations do not hold up.

Different interpretations and criticisms

Some readers connect this line with the one before it and take the general meaning to be that people survive because their hun and po are present within them, and so should cherish and nurture them. The author thinks this makes “carry” somewhat easier to explain, but loses much of the original meaning.

Wang Bi, a major Wei-Jin thinker of the Xuanxue tradition, interprets “carry” as “place,” saying that the hun and po are where a person ordinarily resides. This is close to the interpretation of Heshang Gong, the Han dynasty commentator on the Laozi.

In later times, Su Zhe (Su Ziyou) and Wang Pang (Wang Yuanze) offered a different account. Though their scholarly views were at odds throughout their lives, they agreed on this line: the hun is the spirit, while the po is the body. The spirit should continually “carry” the po along, rather than let the po drag the spirit down. Hong Qingshan, who annotated this text, likewise said that life is whole when Yang Qi fills the po and the hun and po move together. His meaning is close to Su and Wang’s, and all three take “carry” in the sense of bearing someone in a vehicle.

The author objects that this reading not only goes against the meaning of the passage, but would also mean that the spirit was forever laboring below, lifting the po upward, while the po never had any rest. One might thereby avoid becoming sunk in material desires, but the subtle wonder of “Jing and unity” would instead be seized by an overpowering Yang intention and driven through ceaseless turmoil. In the end, one would still fall into the same fate as ordinary people, damaging life and shortening one’s years without realizing it. If this was truly what Su and Wang meant, how could they make their interpretation coherent?

Those who read “carry” as “zai,” an exclamation particle, as in certain interpretations attributed to Yangzi, are even further off the mark. Li Gui’s explanation of the hun as “light” is especially far-fetched.

Song dynasty scholars such as Jia Huang and Sima Guang also sensed that something was wrong. Sima even proposed changing the character po to fei, meaning the crescent moon. But he did not investigate the original meaning of “carry,” and his proposal led him still further astray.

In recent years, Wang Bozhao argued that before the full moon on the fifteenth day of the lunar month, the hun is carried by “brightness,” while after the full moon, “brightness” comes to an end through the po. The first half seems plausible, but if the second half means that brightness ends through the po, the text should say “brightness ends,” not “the po ends.” Following this logic, the first half may also have to be read like Su and Wang’s interpretation, with something carried upward from below—and it would have the same flaw.

General conclusion

In general, later readers of earlier works fail to seek the original meaning through patient, repeated study, and instead make hasty judgments based on their own ideas. That is why their interpretations are so careless. Those who read the Songs of Chu merely for its ornate language are hardly likely to read the Laozi’s syntax with care.

Plain-Language Interpretation

Earlier writers did not have time to investigate these details fully, so I have taken special care to clarify them. This may allow readers to work backward from them to their source, and offer a little help in doing so.

Zhan Qiupu says: The chapter from “Bearing the spirit and embracing the One” through “this is called mysterious De (Virtue/Power)” teaches that if people can learn from “unknowing” and “the feminine,” they can remain forever absorbed in a state of effortless ease. By extending compassion and generosity to bring peace to the people and govern the state, I can make the people unaware of where these benefits come from. This is what is meant by “Heaven’s mystery.” “The feminine” and “the female”: when Heaven’s gate opens and closes, I can keep the Dao (the Way) from responding in accord with the sounds of the feminine and the female. When the mind is clear and open in every direction, yet can also lead people to set aside their knowledge and remain at peace, this is the capacity to practice Wuwei (non-action) while leaving nothing undone.

Zhang Chongying says: “Bearing the spirit and embracing the One” through “this is called mysterious De”—the hun-soul belongs to the liver, and the po-soul to the lungs. The hun-soul takes shape through Heaven’s Qi (vital energy), while the po-soul takes shape through Earth’s Jing (essence). Once a person has this body, it must carry the hun-soul and tend the po-soul. If one can hold fast to the pure and undivided Jing and Qi of Heaven and Earth, allowing them to interact and give rise to one another without separation, then Qi can be concentrated and softness attained; Jing transforms into Qi, Yin wanes and Yang grows, the po-soul settles and the hun-soul clears. The spirit within is like an infant, free of all dust and impurities, with keen ears and clear eyes, and all it sees is profound. How could there be any affliction that harms the body?

Applied to governing the state, one uses one’s own Jing to bring forth the people’s Qi and care for them; the wonders of governing the state are beyond words. Turn this around and it describes cultivation: when Heaven’s gate opens and closes, the hundred orifices are unobstructed, and the feminine po-soul transforms into assertive Qi, so the po-soul can no longer cause disruption. When Earth’s gate opens in secret, transformation takes place without words. Clarity extends in every direction and the Dao fills the world, yet people cannot perceive it. Hence the text says, “Giving life and nurturing”: once true Qi has come forth, it must also be nourished. It also says, “Giving life without possessing”: once Qi has arisen, it must not be depleted or diminished. And it says, “Acting without relying on the result”: once Jing has transformed into Qi, one must not presume upon that transformation and develop a harmful intent. Finally, it says, “Helping things grow without ruling them”: what has been brought to life must be nurtured and cared for; one must not cut down its Qi and thereby harm its life. Then mysterious De is present in oneself. This is called mysterious De.

Plain Language Commentary

Zhang Lingying says: When people receive this body, it is by receiving the “One of Heaven” that they obtain their Original Qi, and by receiving the “One of Earth” that they obtain their Original Jing. At the hour of Zi, Yang first stirs; at the hour of Wu, Yin first begins to arise. Through this one rising and one descending, preserve Jing and keep Qi from harm, and Shen can then be at peace. The key to preserving Jing and nurturing Qi is to embrace the One and guard the center during the two hours of Zi and Wu. Enter the practice gradually, and with time, naturally build up its benefits and succeed.

Bai Yuchan says: (Explaining Chapter Ten of the Dao De Jing) “‘Carrying the hun and po, embracing the One—can they never part?’” If the hun and po are settled and carried, and the mind embraces the One, how could they part even for a moment? “‘Concentrating Qi and becoming supple—can one be like an infant?’” With Qi concentrated and supple, clear and free of distractions, can one be as innocent as an infant? “‘Cleansing and purifying the mysterious mirror—can it be without blemish?’” Clear away distracting thoughts and use mysterious clarity to observe: can body and mind be without flaw? In loving the people and governing the state, in calming Shen and nurturing Qi, can one do without clever contrivance? Free of thoughts and action, free of reflection and worry, as Heaven’s gate opens and closes and the heart-mind becomes clear, can one be without flaw? Guard the One without wavering, understand all things in every direction, and let one principle illuminate them as ice melts and the moon shines bright: can one do without cleverness? Be like a fool all day long. In “giving life and nurturing,” the One within embraces all things: give life without possessing, with a heart-mind like the Great Void; act without relying on one’s deeds, with wisdom that encompasses all things; grow without ruling, at ease and without self. This is called Mysterious De.

Liao Cuiran says: “‘Carrying the hun and po,’ ‘embracing the One’”—knowing the child and returning to guard the mother, embracing the One with a still mind: can they never part? The Dao cannot be left for even an instant. “‘Concentrating Qi and becoming supple’”—keeping the will undivided and gathering Shen: can one be like an infant? Return to childlike innocence, free of desire and action. “‘Cleansing and purifying the mysterious mirror’”—seeing and hearing nothing, inwardly and outwardly empty and clear: can one be without blemish? Thus there are no afflictions. “Loving the people and governing the state”—the ruler loves all under Heaven through the Dao; I, too, cherish Shen and guard Shen. Can I act without contrivance? Thus I do not act recklessly. “‘Heaven’s gate opens and closes’”—the crown of the head opens wide, and the Yang spirit comes and goes: can this be without the feminine? Yin ghosts vanish of themselves, and there are certainly no demonic obstructions. “Understanding all things in every direction”—the light of Shen shines brilliantly and gazes in all directions: can this be without knowing? It happens naturally; it cannot be known by deliberate effort. “‘Giving life and nurturing’”—the Dao gives me life, and De brings me to completion. Give life without possessing, returning to the source and root; forget form and self, act without relying on one’s deeds; bestow kindness upon me without expecting repayment; grow without ruling—nurture and complete me.

Thus, “Does me no harm” is what is meant by this mysterious De (Virtue/Power). With the Dao and De, fulfillment comes naturally.

Chen Bixu says: “Can you carry the ethereal soul and embrace the One without letting them part?”

In Daoist thought, the Yang spirit is the hun, or soul, which delights in life; the Yin ghost is the po, or spirit, which inclines toward killing. The hun wanders, while the po is still. The Baihu Tong says of the soul… “Ying” describes a restless, unsettled state, which is why the soul is called ying. Earlier explanations say that “carry” means to ride, and that ying refers to the soul; another view is that ying means to protect Yang energy. The hun is Yang essence, while the po is Yin spirit. Yang essence delights in movement and departs, so books on immortality describe methods for restraining and retaining it. Yin spirit delights in drifting and delusion, so those books describe methods for controlling and subduing it. Let the body always carry the Yang essence and Yin spirit, and hold fast to the pure, unified Qi of Great Harmony, so that they do not scatter or part and life may be preserved for a long time. Embracing the One in the Dao is like a mirror containing brightness—how could the brightness leave the mirror? This teaches people to nourish the spirit.

Modern interpretation: “Can you keep them from parting?” is a cautious question posed by the Old Master, like the question “Can you keep the precepts?” in a set of rules. Anyone who wishes to practice embracing the One must ask: Can the mind remain undispersed? If it does not scatter, one is carrying the hun and po and holding fast to the Dao of unity.

“Concentrate your Qi and bring it to pliancy: can you be like an infant?”

Earlier explanations say: “Concentrate” means to focus and let things be; Qi is the wondrous, balanced Qi, or the Qi of nature. Human beings stand apart and transform on their own, endowed with nature’s balanced, harmonious Qi. Qi descends and the body comes into being, originally free of stain or impurity. If one devotes oneself to this balanced, wondrous Qi and forgets all knowledge and perception, the Qi will become naturally pure and harmonious, and the body naturally soft and pliant, unharmed by the many evils. Then one attains the infant’s complete harmony. This teaches people to nourish Qi.

Modern interpretation: “Can you be like an infant?” In wishing to concentrate Qi and bring it to pliancy, can you be as pure and harmonious as an infant? If so, you have attained the art of concentrating Qi and bringing it to pliancy.

“Cleanse and clear the mysterious mirror: can you leave it free of blemish?”

Earlier explanations say: “Cleanse” means to wash; “clear” means to remove. “Mysterious” refers to principle, and “mirror” to the mind’s illumination. A blemish is a flaw or disorder. One should wash away dust and defilement, cast off the five emotions, and make the mind clear within and without, so that it illuminates all things and flaws do not arise. This teaches people to cultivate the mind.

(From here, the three matters above…)

A Plain-Language Commentary on the Collected Meanings of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue

The passage above uses three matters—self-cultivation and governing the state among them—to urge people to govern well. The scripture says: “Cultivate it in yourself, and your De will be genuine; cultivate it throughout the world, and your De will be widespread.”

“Can you be free of flaws?” A modern interpretation: If a person wishes to cleanse the heart and remove its impurities, quietly observing both inner and outer conditions, they should be able to examine themselves and find no flaws or faults. Being free of such flaws is the method for cleansing the Mysterious Mirror: using a subtle mind to observe and dispel distracting thoughts.

“In loving the people and governing the state, can you practice Wuwei (non-action)?” An older interpretation says: Love the people as you would care for infants. When governing, do not treat them harshly or cruelly; taxes and labor duties should not injure their nature. In governing the state, make agriculture the priority and keep affairs simple, so people can each remain secure in their work and their lives. This is the teaching of Wuwei. A modern interpretation: If a ruler wishes to care for the people without harming their inborn nature, and to govern by promoting agriculture and avoiding needless complexity, they should be tranquil and practice Wuwei. Such tranquility and Wuwei are the essentials of loving the people and governing the state.

“When Heaven’s Gate opens and closes, can you remain receptive?” Heaven’s Gate is the gate of nature. Nature gives rise to Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate); Taiji gives rise to Heaven and Earth; Heaven and Earth give rise to Yin-Yang; and Yin-Yang gives rise to the myriad things. The life and death, comings and goings of all things proceed through this gate, which is why it is called Heaven’s Gate. “Opening” means dispersing and bringing forth; “closing” means gathering in and storing away. Opening brings things into being; closing brings decline and extinction. Yet though the myriad things come to life, no form of their coming into being can be seen; though they die, no form of their death can be seen. Their lives and deaths cycle on without any visible shape. Could this not be called natural? Perhaps only the “great person”—one who has attained the Dao—can embody and unite with nature. The great person’s capacity embraces the universe, and their breath encompasses Yin and Yang. They make receptive stillness their guiding principle, so that life and death, flourishing and decline, do not enter their heart. Receptive stillness is the subtle working of nature. This passage advises those who cultivate themselves and govern the state to hold fast to receptive stillness.

An older interpretation also says: Heaven’s Gate refers to the gate of the Purple Palace at the North Pole. The North Star lies within the Purple Palace, where the Five Emperors—the celestial rulers of the five directions—take turns in periods of rest and ascendancy; hence the gate opens and closes. When it opens, conditions are favorable; when it closes, they are unfavorable. For example, in spring the gate of the Azure Emperor opens while the other gates remain closed, and the same pattern applies to the other seasons. The cycles of the Five Phases, the changes in calendrical cycles, and the shifts between rise and decline are never constant. Only sages understand Heaven and know their allotted fate. By always maintaining receptive stillness, they are not swept away by change.

Plain-Language Interpretation:

Lasting success and great good fortune: Some also understand this in terms of self-cultivation: the “Gate of Heaven” means the mouth and nose, and “opening and closing” means breathing. If a person is gentle and still like the receptive feminine, the breath becomes deep, long, and subtle, while the spirit remains calm, at ease, and in Wuwei (non-action).

Commentary: Can you remain receptive and still? The opening and closing of the Gate of Heaven, and the waxing and waning of forces, follow the constant patterns of the calendar. Only through receptive stillness and humility can Yin and Yang avoid contending with one another, and cold and heat avoid invading one another. Can you be clear-sighted and perceptive yet remain free of knowledge? An older interpretation says that “clear-sighted” means illumined by wisdom. In self-cultivation, even with insight, intelligence, and broad understanding, one should be as though one had seen and heard nothing. In governing, one’s Virtue should shine across the realm like the sun and moon; yet one should close off the senses and veil one’s discernment, seeming to know nothing, so that the people use things in daily life without knowing why. This is called having the Dao. A more recent interpretation says that to attain wisdom, clarity, and understanding of all under Heaven, one must first turn one’s gaze inward and listen inwardly, remaining constantly in a state of unknowing. Being able to remain without knowledge is the foundation of wisdom, clarity, and all-encompassing understanding.

From “giving life and nurturing” onward, this is called Mysterious De. If one can put the six preceding principles into practice in self-cultivation and governance, it is like the Dao giving life to the myriad things without blocking their source, allowing them to develop of themselves; De nurtures the myriad things without restricting their nature, allowing each to fulfill its inherent share. Each thing comes into its own and grows independently. What, then, does the sage rely on? The many kinds of beings each pursue their own work. What does the sage control? Things grow and are nurtured of themselves. What, then, does the sage govern? This is to forget achievement and forget things, penetrating deeply into the darkest source. It is called Profound De. Wang Bi says: “Profound De means possessing De without knowing what governs it; it emerges from the hidden and obscure.”

Xie Tunan says: From “carrying the soul and embracing unity” through “never departing from it”: The Book of Documents says, “The moon’s soul first appears,” referring to the sixteenth day of the lunar month. After the full moon, the moon’s dark body begins to grow, and its light fades; Yin is beginning to increase. In the human body, the hun-soul is Yang and the po-soul is Yin. When Yin begins to grow, the po-soul busily seeks to advance. If one can hold to unity without departing from it, one will not be overcome by Yin. Unity is the mystery of Heaven, and it is Yang. Applied to the state, this means that petty men cannot prevail over noble men; the principle is the same. Can you concentrate your Qi and bring it to utmost softness, like an infant? Huang Shigong says: “Softness can…” The source text seems to break off here, but the intended meaning is that softness can overcome hardness, as in an infant’s suppleness.

An Accessible Commentary on the Collected Meanings of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue

Softness can overcome strength; the way to nurture the body takes softness as its foundation

If Qi is not focused and pure, fierce Yang Qi will seize the opportunity to enter. One should be like an infant who has not yet grown, at the utmost degree of softness and weakness. People are driven by forceful Yang when they have many desires; this is something to guard against.

“Can you cleanse and refine the mysterious mirror so that it is free of flaws?”

The scripture says that although the sage beholds splendor, they dwell peacefully and live apart, unconcerned. This is the “mysterious mirror.” The hanging strings of beads that screen the eyes signify a refusal to let the eyes form heedless connections with external things. Once the mind reaches outward and clings to things, the heart follows after them. The way of cultivating oneself is to “not look upon what is desirable,” so that the heart is not disturbed. By cleansing away external distractions, whatever meets the eyes is subtle and mysterious. To be free of flaws means that human desires have no opening through which to intrude, allowing Heaven’s principle to be preserved.

“In loving the people and governing the state, can you practice Wuwei (non-action)?”

Cultivating oneself is the very foundation for governing the state. The root of all under Heaven lies in the heart: if the heart is clear and not seized by appetites and desires, then one can love the people and govern the state through Wuwei—“acting without fuss.” Yao’s freedom from self-interest and Shun’s reverent self-discipline both exemplify this way.

“As the Gate of Heaven opens and closes, can you remain receptive?”

The scripture says: “Block the openings, close the gates, and to the end of life you will not be worn out.” The Gate of Heaven refers to a position above, in the Palace of Qian. Receptive means Yin. The Gate of Heaven must open and close according to a proper measure; then harmful Yin Qi cannot intrude, and the body’s workings will be at ease. Applied to the state, this means opening the four gates while keeping petty people from office.

“When your understanding reaches in all directions, can you do so without relying on knowledge?”

If you see not with your eyes but with the Dao, clarity can extend in all directions, unobstructed, and you can name things as they come. Once private desires intrude, you cannot see even what is right before your eyes—how much less what is far away? To do so without relying on knowledge means not seeking the cleverness of ordinary knowing. “Without leaving the door, know the world; without peering through the window, see the Way of Heaven”—how could this be gauged by ordinary “knowledge”? Guan Yinzi said: “When a single feeling grows still and dark, one becomes a sage.” This is the utmost in giving life and nurturing it.

Mysterious De

When human artifice has been worn away, Heaven’s principle grows of itself. Applied to oneself: accumulate goodness within, and it increases day by day without one being aware of it. Applied to all under Heaven: every person and thing is included in the giving of life and the nurturing of growth, yet one never claims the credit. This is called Mysterious De. “Mysterious” refers to Heaven; “master” means ruler. I have discussed this before: Yang contains Yin, and Yin contains Yang; this cannot be avoided. The sage always seeks to advance Yang and withdraw Yin…

A Plain-Language Interpretation

Does Yin not represent the petty person, just as Yang represents the noble person? If Yin accumulates within oneself, it becomes a burden on the body; if petty people fill a state, they become a calamity for the state. The principles of self-cultivation and governing a state are one and the same. Thus, if one neither indulges in idle thoughts nor forces things, yet does not lose the innocence of a newborn; if one does not use worldly cleverness to judge things, yet can keep out the Qi of external influences, then one can live at ease and freedom in one’s own body. Apply this to the world and the state, and why make needless interventions? Heaven and Earth are joined in an undivided whole, their divine transformations deep and remote, as though moved by a power whose workings are unknown, yet everything happens of itself. Is this not “Mysterious De” (Xuande)? Shun’s Heavenly De, and King Wen’s way of following Heaven’s patterns to order things—surely these speak of just this.

Lin Yanzhai says: In the passage from “carry the hun and po” to “this is called Mysterious De,” hun is the ethereal soul and belongs to Shen; po is the corporeal soul and belongs to Jing and Qi. These three characters express the deep meaning of Laozi. “Carry” is like a vehicle carrying a load: one character stands above, with the two characters “hun and po” beneath it, like a riddle. When the po carries the hun, this is the ordinary person’s condition; when the hun carries the po, this is the sage’s attainment. Taken together, hun and po are one; considered separately, they are two. “Embrace” means to unite as one. The general sense is: can they be united as one and never part? Or are they about to split into two? Hence the line, “Embrace the One: can you keep them from separating?” These six characters express the point with precision, inviting each person to reflect and understand for themselves.

An infant has not yet developed sight or hearing, and its Qi is undivided. “Attain” means to reach the utmost; “soft” means yielding. If one can, like an infant, concentrate the Qi and attain utmost softness, one can embrace the One. Hence the question, “Can you be like an infant?” This is Laozi posing a question: can a person really be like this? The lines that follow work in the same way.

Cleansing away flaws and defilements while contemplating the hidden and obscure will inevitably give rise to distinctions. “Without blemish” means without making distinctions. Though one cleanses away defilement, if one holds to the understanding that “defilement is not defilement, and purity is not purity,” one can embrace the One. If one has the work of caring for the people and governing the state, yet acts with a mind of Wuwei (non-action), one can embrace the One. The opening and closing of Yin and Yang, and the union of female and male, are natural patterns; if one does not cling to the thought of their union, one can embrace the One.

“The Gate of Heaven” means the natural principle between Heaven and Earth; here, it uses the workings of creation as a metaphor. Because of phrases like these, later generations drew the passage into the school of health cultivation and internal practice. Some used it to promote heterodox teachings, misleading many people.

A Plain-Language Interpretation

General discussion of the preceding section

To understand clearly and reach everywhere, yet take “not knowing” as knowledge: this is called holding to the One (preserving the unity of the Dao and remaining single-minded).

“Giving life to them and nurturing them” describes how creation gives life to and sustains the myriad things. Does creation ever regard them as its own possessions? Does it ever rely on them to display its abilities? Though it is the leader of the myriad things, does it ever seek to rule over them? This is what may be called profound De.

The central meaning of this chapter lies chiefly in Wuwei (non-action) and letting things follow their own course. When one acts without forcing and lets things unfold naturally, the mind remains empty. Thus Shen carries the Po, rather than the Po carrying Shen—this is the way of the sage. If the Po carries Shen, one leaves traces and becomes attached to appearances. Laozi’s teaching, in general, is simply that fullness must be able to be empty, and existence must be able to be nothing; only then does one reach the highest Dao. However one may explain it, this is the underlying principle.

Fan Yingyuan says

“Can you carry the hun and po, and hold to the One without ever being separated from it?”

“Ying-po” means the hun and po. The Inner Observation Scripture says: “That which moves to sustain the body is called the hun; that which rests to anchor the form is called the po.” Heshang Gong says: “Ying-po means the hun and po. The hun belongs to Yang, and the po belongs to Yin. ‘The One’ is the One of the Dao.” This asks whether a person can carry the hun and po within the body and hold fast to the One of the Dao without letting go, even for a moment.

“Can you concentrate your Qi and become supple, like a baby?”

“Concentrate” means to be still and settled, without disturbance. “Flaw” means a defect or illness. A baby’s Qi is concentrated, harmonious, and supple. The question is whether one can avoid disturbing one’s Qi and so attain harmony and suppleness, remaining as one was in infancy.

“Can you cleanse and purify your deep vision until it is without flaw?”

If the mind is not empty, it cannot be clear; if it is not clear, it cannot be open to understanding. This asks whether one can cleanse away selfish desires, making the original mind as clear as flawless jade and as free of dust as a mirror, so that one observes things in stillness and sees that they all accord with the natural order.

“Can you love the people and govern the state without action?”

Holding to the One, concentrating the Qi, and cleansing and purifying the mind are ways to cultivate oneself and clarify the heart-mind. One can extend this way to people and things: it is the foundation for loving the people and governing the state. When one responds to things in accordance with their natural order, each has its proper course. Why, then, rely on cleverness? Loving the people does not mean indulging in affection for them; to avoid harming them is the fullest form of love. Governing the state does not mean managing it for its own sake; to avoid throwing it into disorder is the fullest form of governance.

“When Heaven’s Gate opens and closes, can you remain receptive?”

“Heaven’s Gate” refers to the departure of the spirit from my heart-mind… (The remainder of the original scroll may have continued with an explanation of Heaven’s Gate and receptive softness, but the scripture text breaks off here.)

A Discussion of Speech and the Spirit’s Coming and Going

When it comes to speech, the mind and spirit should not simply “come and go” at will with every word. In responding to affairs and dealing with others, speech is an “outward movement”; in turning inward and examining oneself, it is an “inward movement.” Going out means opening, and coming in means closing. If the mind and spirit cannot open and close with due measure, but instead speak and act recklessly, that departs from the meaning of the classic.

The Tianyun chapter of the Zhuangzi says: “To be correct is to be aligned. If the mind thinks otherwise, the Gate of Heaven will not open.” Cheng Xuanying’s commentary explains that the Gate of Heaven is the mind. To “be the female” means that the mind is centered on stillness and softness; it also means “responding only after being touched.” Commentaries by Heshang Gong, Su Zhe, and others mostly read “be the female.” Some editions read “without the female,” but this is probably not what the classic means. Since the text says, “Know the male, yet keep to the female,” this passage should read “be the female.” Our mind is the mind of Heaven. Amid movement and stillness, we should always keep to the soft and yielding, so that Shen and Qi remain harmonious; then the Yin-Yang energies will open and close in harmony as well.

“Clear and Bright on Every Side: Can One Be Without Knowledge?”

“Clear and bright” means empty yet luminous; “on every side” means reaching in all directions. This describes a mind that is open, clear, and unobstructed in every direction: it responds when touched, yet remains empty and still, without allowing personal intentions to intrude. Can a person achieve this? The mind acts through Wuwei, yet nothing is left undone. Wuwei is the root; “nothing left undone” is its expression. Root and expression are of one thread. Grasp the root, and through one you can act in myriad ways, finding a path through every situation. Understand the expression, and the myriad things return to the One, with nothing out of place. One need only keep to the root; the expression will return to unity of its own accord.

“Giving Life and Nurturing … This Is Called Mysterious De”

Giving life, nurturing, growing, raising, completing, ripening, nourishing, and sheltering—all take nurturing as their basis. The myriad things take root in the Dao and come to life; they take De as their foundation and are nurtured. They give life without claiming ownership, act without relying on their achievements, and allow things to grow without ruling over them. Thus the myriad things each find their place, without knowing why. This is called Mysterious De. The sage embodies the Dao without leaving a trace; through vast transformation, the people do not know the power of the ruler. This is precisely Mysterious De.

Xue Yongzhai on “Carrying the Hun and Po, Embracing the One: Can They Remain Undivided?”

Can one carry the Hun and Po and hold fast to the True One without letting them separate? The Zhuangzi says: “The utmost Yin is solemn and still; the utmost Yang is blazing and bright. Solemn stillness comes from Heaven; blazing brightness issues from Earth. The two communicate, and then carry the essences of the sun and moon in their motion, breathing in and out the root of Heaven and Earth.” Like mother and child keeping close to one another, like a fish in water—this is the image of “embracing the One.”

On the Way to Long Life and Lasting Vision

Wang Bao holds that when Jing is gathered and Shen is brought to stillness, are thoughts of “knowing something” still mixed in? “Concentrate Qi and bring it to softness: can you be like an infant?” This means focusing on the cultivation of true Qi until the sinews and bones grow soft. Can one become like an infant? “Cleanse and clear the profound mirror: can you be without flaw?” With profound insight, one observes the transformations of all things, yet flaws may still remain, because a layer of “profound insight” is still held in the mind. Only by cleansing away this layer can one speak of being without flaw.

“Love the people and govern the state: can you do so through Wuwei (non-action)?” The mind is the ruler, the body is like a state, and Jing and Qi are like its people. When the ruler governs through Wuwei, the state prospers and the people live in peace. If the ruler acts recklessly, the result is not merely no benefit, but harm.

“The gates of Heaven open and close: can you remain receptive?” The gates of Heaven are where the original Shen enters and leaves. If one is merely still while retaining the thought “I am being still,” Shen is blocked instead. “Understand all things and reach everywhere: can you do so without knowing?” Only when the chamber of Shen is spacious and empty, with nothing in it, is there true understanding that reaches everywhere. If the thought “I know something” remains, how can that count as understanding?

“To give life and nurture … this is called profound De.” To give life to and nurture the myriad things without claiming the credit; to let them grow without ruling or exploiting them, so that they do not know whom to thank—does this not amount to a De of deep and mysterious power?

Laozi’s Dao excels at cultivating the person. Beyond stillness and Wuwei, its depths and obscurities, which people find hard to fathom, lie especially in such terms as “bearing the hun and po” and in the workings of Shen. Commentators throughout history have each clung to one side: those who discuss its principles mock it as trivial, while practitioners fail to grasp its subtleties. They do not realize that these are precisely the pivots the sage wants people to grasp. Writers cannot explain them through elegant language, and debaters cannot exhaust them through argument. Their meaning can be clarified only through oral instruction and transmission from mind to mind, with focused intent and diligent practice.

The Commentary from Xiuxiu Hermitage (from “bearing the hun and po” to “this is called profound De”)

The human capacity for spiritual clarity is sometimes called “mind” and sometimes “Shen” (commonly called the hun). Qi is called the po. In the past, reckless conduct exhausted Shen and weakened Qi. Now, recognizing this, one rests thoughts and stills activity, nourishes Shen and Qi, and merges with the Dao. This is called “embracing the One.” Can one sustain it over time without losing it? Can one concentrate true Qi and bring it to softness, becoming free of thoughts and desires like an infant just born? One must also wash away subtle, profound notions and polish the mind until not a single flaw remains. Only then can one speak of having “completed the work”: cultivating oneself, ordering the family, governing the state, and bringing peace to the world.

A Discussion of “Wuwei,” “the Virtue of Not Acting,” and Governing the State

Those in the world who can embody the Way of Wuwei (non-action) and the Virtue of Not Acting are inwardly harmonious in their nature, temperament, and Qi channels; outwardly, the people live in peace and the state enjoys stability.

“Can you keep the Gate of Heaven opening and closing, yet remain receptive like the female?”

Heaven is a metaphor for the mind; the gate is a metaphor for the source from which all methods emerge. Opening and closing mean letting go and drawing in; the female represents gentleness and receptivity. The subtle mechanism may open or close, yet one skillfully maintains gentleness and does not indulge in the harm of forcefulness and sharpness. Practice accords with one’s state of realization: subtle insight flows freely, unobstructed, yet one does not boast or exalt oneself, remaining still and apparently unaware.

The Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and humanity—follow the Dao as they bring forth the myriad things and nurture them through De (Virtue/Power). Though they give life and sustain, they do not claim credit. Though they preside over creation and transformation, they do not rely on their own eminence. Though the myriad things receive their grace and are able to grow, they do not dominate or force them, but let them grow and transform naturally. This is called attaining the Dao.

Chu Boxiu’s commentary on “Bearing the corporeal and spiritual souls” through “This is called profound De”

Commentators have found the opening character, zai, difficult to explain. Some take the first three characters as a complete phrase and attach “embrace the One” to the following passage, which they regard as parallel to what comes later. This leads them to force the wording and labor over explanations. After examining the meaning closely, I found that Guo Zhongshu’s Peijie ji quotes an imperial edict from the Kaiyuan era: “I have respectfully received the sage’s teachings and devoted deep thought to the profound tradition. I once corrected ten passages of the Dao De Jing, changing the character zai to zai [哉], so that it remained part of the preceding sentence.” Once the proposal was settled, everyone approved it, and the authentic teaching was rearranged to form the commentary. This account is clearer and can dispel a thousand years of confusion. In ancient editions, chapters were not divided. Later readers mistakenly joined the first character of the next chapter to the end of the previous one, and in transmission it was further corrupted into zai [载]. The syntax of the Dao De Jing’s fifty-third chapter, which ends with “This is indeed not the Way,” supports this reading. (Note: The edition associated with Emperor Xuanzong also has zai [载]. Du Guangting, in turn, interprets it as “carry and convey”; he does not separate it from the chapter to read it as zai [哉]. It is unclear where Guo Zhongshu’s collected works contain this passage. Chu’s account is preserved here for reference.)

The Meaning of the Dingguan Jing

The activity that sustains the body is called the Hun (ethereal soul); the stillness that stabilizes the physical form is called the Po (corporeal soul). The Hun is Yang, clear, and ascends; the Po is Yin, turbid, and descends. Yang moves and Yin is still; together they bring about creation and transformation. If these two Qi reside in the body and keep shifting without returning to the root, the body gradually wastes away, like leaves falling from a tree that then withers. The sages taught that the Hun and Po should both embrace the One. The One is that from which the Dao is born and the beginning of number. (The discussion of the method of the mind follows; continue reading the original text.)

An Interpretation of the Plain Meaning

The Original Nature and Guarding the One

The beginning of all things lies in the “Origin.” In a person, this is the original state of one’s nature. When the Hun and Po souls embrace and guard the One, without separating, movement and stillness are both forgotten. If one turns away from this Way, one must focus on guarding Qi and keep the breath continuous; only then can one reach the utmost softness, unmoved by joy or anger. If one does not guard Qi with undivided attention, the firm, Yang Qi will take advantage of the opening. At the slightest provocation, it may erupt and scatter. Though Qi has no form, Shen cannot remain on its own. How could one fail to be cautious?

Like an Infant

“Like an infant” means that an infant has no developed knowledge and no joy or anger, but is simply a mass of pure, harmonious Qi. This is a secret practice transmitted within the Daoist tradition. Many methods of refining Qi and regulating the breath that circulate in the world derive from it, but most have strayed into heterodox paths, and few have found the true Way. The Dao is plain, easy, and calm; it is not separate from everyday life. One should meet things with an empty mind and Wuwei (non-action). Yet practitioners often cling to ideas of mystery and seek farther and farther beyond the vast emptiness. They should instead cleanse away distracting thoughts and return to the beginning. Then the body of the Dao will be complete of itself. Why speak further of “the feminine”?

The Body as a State

“State” is a metaphor for the body; “people” is a metaphor for Shen and Qi. “Can one do this without knowledge?”—this is how the old edition reads. The later phrase, “Using knowledge to govern the state is the state’s undoing,” supports this reading.

The Heavenly Gate and Feminine Stillness

The “Heavenly Gate” is where the myriad things and transformations enter and emerge. Yang opens and Yin closes, with Shen as their function. The sages secretly transmitted this Way, making feminine stillness its guiding principle. Thus, one illuminates the principles and responds to things without strain, until clarity reaches everywhere—“Can one do this without acting?” This is how the old edition reads. The common edition and the Heshang Gong edition have “without action” after “cherish the people,” and “without knowledge” after “clarity”; these two phrases express opposite meanings. “Without acting” means having nothing to do. Fearing that cleverness may obstruct awakening to the Dao, the text therefore teaches Wuwei. All of the above concerns cultivating the body.

Bringing Forth Life Without Possessing

At this point, one should take bringing forth life as one’s purpose: give life without claiming the credit, act without relying on one’s strength, and dwell as the foremost among all things without exalting oneself as their ruler. This is called the mysterious De, a virtue beyond the understanding of ordinary people.

The Explanation in the “Niu Miaozhuan”

“Can you carry the Hun and Po souls and embrace the One without letting them separate?” “Carry” means again or once more; “Ying” means life; “Po” means the moon; and “embrace the One” means the moon at the start of its waxing. When the Po wanes away, this is called the end of the moon; when the Po is carried into its renewal, this is called the first day of the moon. At the moon’s beginning, a single point of light first appears. The moon can embrace it, and it gradually grows until it is full and bright. From this we can see that even the moon can embrace the One and grow; how much more should a person embrace the One and guard the Po?

(Note: This passage uses the phases of the moon as a metaphor for the arising and fading of the Po and the practice of embracing the One. It is an analogy associated with Neidan (internal alchemy) or visualization practices.)

How can one depart from that point of clarity and fail to hold fast to it in the heart? What, then, of all other matters? Good words grow from small beginnings until they become evident; from “the One,” one can reach all things. “The One” is the Dao (the Way). What in the world is not born from this Dao? Confucius said, “One must never depart from the Dao, even for a moment.” With the Dao, a person lives; without it, a person dies. Whether one lives or dies depends on whether one can hold fast to the One.

“Can you concentrate your Qi (vital energy) and become supple, like an infant?” To concentrate means to be undivided. Qi is the life energy that fills the body. Living between Heaven and Earth, a person’s life consists simply of this Qi moving in and out with the breath. An infant is wholly complete in its natural endowment, before human desires have arisen. As people grow, they are stirred by things, and human desires gradually emerge. They lose their innate goodness; within, their likes and dislikes go unchecked, while outside they are drawn in by sights, sounds, cleverness, and knowledge. Signs of decline then appear. If a person can keep the will focused and avoid dissipating their Qi, the body will be harmonious and supple, light and strong, like an infant or a young maiden. Liezi said, “An infant’s Qi is concentrated and its will undivided; it is perfectly harmonious, and external things cannot harm it. Its Virtue (De) could not be greater.” This is what he meant.

“Can you cleanse and clear your profound inner vision, leaving it free of flaw?” To cleanse is to wash; to clear is to sweep away. “Profound” refers to the Dao, “inner vision” to contemplation, and “flaw” to blemish or error. The meaning is that the way of a person is to cleanse the body and mind regularly, sweep away distracting thoughts, and contemplate the mystery of the Dao. In this way one becomes someone who fully investigates principle and fulfills one’s nature, and can live between Heaven and Earth without major error. What flaw could remain? People commonly say that the mind of Heaven is like a mirror: unless it is cleansed, it cannot be clear. The Dao is like a shadow: unless it is contemplated, it cannot be seen. Thus those who study the Dao continually cultivate and examine themselves, without interruption. Their luminous Virtue remains bright and is no longer clouded by desires. Just as a person bathes today and bathes again each day, never allowing the work of cleansing to lapse, so the body remains clean and is not stained by old impurities. The mirror is clear, the dust removed; the heart reflects, and the Dao is made clear. This is the meaning of “cleansing and clearing one’s profound inner vision.”

“Can you love the people and govern the state through Wuwei (non-action)?” The people are the foundation of the state; when the foundation is firm, the state is at peace. Therefore, anyone who governs a state must first love the people.

Loving the people and governing the state depend on “Wuwei (non-action).” Wuwei means not disturbing the people. In the past, Emperor Taizong of Tang once said to his ministers: “The ruler depends on the state, and the state depends on the people. To strip the people of their wealth in order to support the ruler is like cutting flesh from your own body to fill your stomach. Your stomach may be full, but you will die; the ruler may grow rich, but the state will perish.” The ruler’s troubles, then, often do not come from outside but arise from within—from the ruler’s own heart and policies. So Taizong reduced forced labor, lowered taxes, and appointed capable officials. From then on, peace prevailed throughout the land. The people had more than enough food and clothing; outer gates could be left unlocked, and travelers could spend the night in the open countryside. Is this not what it means to love the people and govern through Wuwei, without disturbing them?

“Can the Gate of Heaven open and close without being feminine?”

The Gate of Heaven refers to the mouth. The mouth is the portal through which things enter and leave the body. Since the human head is round, like Heaven, the mouth is called the Gate of Heaven. Opening and closing refer to the in-and-out movement of breathing. “Feminine,” paired with “masculine,” is used here to speak of Yin-Yang. Opening and closing, breathing, and the feminine and masculine all concern Yin-Yang; Yin-Yang, in turn, corresponds to movement and stillness. The Book of Changes says: “One movement and one stillness, each the root of the other; one Yin and one Yang—this is the Dao.” What can carry this understanding through to its end is called goodness. The point is: who can exhale without inhaling, or move without ever being still? So the question is: when the Gate of Heaven opens and closes, can it lack its “feminine” aspect—that is, Yin, stillness, and inhalation?

The Zhen Ding Jing says: “Two parts of movement make Yin; one part of stillness makes Yang. When Yang is one, it transforms; when Yin is one, it keeps to what is constant.” Knowing what is constant, awakening to clarity, holding to the One, joining with the numinous, and bringing Kan and Li into firm union allow transformation to occur naturally. This passage argues that Yin-Yang must not be allowed to become unbalanced, and that one must not cling to either movement or stillness alone. Hence it again asks: “Can the Gate of Heaven open and close without being feminine?”

“Can one who is clear-sighted and comprehends all directions be without knowledge?”

“Clear-sighted” means perceptive; “bright” means keen; and “comprehending” means understanding all things. A perceptive and keen person can understand all directions: knowing the world without leaving the house, and seeing the Dao of Heaven without peering through a window. Can such a person be said to be “without knowledge”? Here, “knowledge” does not mean petty cleverness. It means being able to observe the four quarters, consult the Four Sacred Mountains, and understand the four classes of people: scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants. Only a ruler who understands all directions can do this. When Yao opened the four gates, used the four eyes, and attained the four kinds of hearing, this is what it meant. A ruler of all under Heaven makes the ears of the four quarters his own ears, favoring no single ear; only then can he understand the aspirations of all under Heaven and fully grasp their circumstances. He makes the eyes of the four quarters his own eyes, favoring no single eye; then all the world’s insight becomes his own. Thus his clarity leaves nothing unseen. Can one who is clear-sighted and comprehends all directions truly be said to be without knowledge?

A Plain-Language Interpretation

“When the ears are keen, nothing goes unheard. Who, then, could call such a person ignorant?” This describes clear understanding and unobstructed awareness in every direction.

“It gives life and nurtures; it gives life but does not claim ownership.” “Gives life” means bringing things into being and creating them; “nurtures” means caring for them and helping them grow; “does not claim ownership” means not taking credit for the results. Consider Heaven and Earth: they bring the myriad things into being and nurture them, yet those things never regard it all as “Heaven and Earth’s achievement.” Or consider the sage: the sage nurtures the world through benevolence, yet the people do not feel that they are receiving “the sage’s favor.”

This does not mean that Heaven and Earth achieve nothing, or that the sage grants no favor. Rather, their achievement is profound but leaves no visible trace, and their favor is vast but its source remains unseen. People benefit from their work without knowing it, and receive their favor without noticing it. This is what makes Heaven and Earth and the sage so great.

If Heaven and Earth or the sage took pride in their achievements, they would no longer be “giving life without claiming ownership.” The scripture’s statements that “Heaven and Earth are not benevolent” and “the sage is not benevolent” express this same idea.

“Acts without relying on its achievements,” leading to “mysterious De”: Though the sage is the most honored among people, the sage never relies on that status. The sage orders the world and guides its customs, transforming and nurturing from a position like the potter’s wheel, which shapes vessels. The sage is not swayed by humble words or carried off course by popular opinion. Thus the sage “acts without relying on achievements” and “leads without ruling.”

The sage does not exalt himself, yet people increasingly honor his De. The greater he becomes, the more he seems small; the higher he stands, the more he seems low; the brighter he shines, the more he seems dim. This is what makes the sage a sage. Hence it is called “mysterious De.”

The Book of Changes says, “A humble and humble-minded gentleman keeps himself in check by adopting a low position.” It expresses precisely this idea.

Yang Zhiren says: From “Carry the corporeal soul and embrace the One” to “this is called mysterious De”:

“Corporeal soul” refers to the hun and po, the two aspects of the soul. They should be cherished and cared for: anger and joy cause the hun to depart; shock and fear injure the po. Calmness and stillness can extend one’s life. The human body is like a boat or a house: it can carry the hun and shelter the po, keeping the two together as one. They must never be separated, even for an instant.

“When it emerges, it becomes conduct; when it is spread abroad, it becomes De”: This means being single-minded and undivided. Let the one Qi become gentle and harmonious; embrace what is pure and simple, and hold fast to it. Be like a child clinging to its loving mother, or an infant still held in someone’s arms. Wash away the heart’s impurities and let not a speck of dust stain it. Let distinctions between good and evil fade away; let both thoughts and intentions fall silent. Conceal your capacities and wait for the right time.

“Loving the people and governing the state” as a metaphor for the body: To care for the Qi is to preserve the body; to care for the people is to bring order to the state. Here, the body is used as a metaphor for the state.

Plain Language Interpretation

Earlier section on governing the country and illuminating De

When the people are cared for, the country is at peace. A person’s original nature is bright and clear, inwardly pure and unstained: clear within, yet seemingly foolish without. Here, “Heaven” refers to a person’s nature, and “gate” refers to opening and closing, letting things in and out. To be clear in all directions means that Heaven’s brightness is nothing other than the light of the sun and moon, while a person’s brightness is the still clarity of their nature. Even so, some people remain dim and unaware. The Yijing says: closing the door is Kun, opening it is Qian; one closing and one opening is called change, and their ceaseless coming and going is called free passage. As for the phrase “giving life and nurturing”: give life to Yin and Yang and nurture the utmost Jing. From nothing, bring forth being; act without relying on your achievement, and nurture without ruling over what you have nurtured. This is the subtlety of profound De.

The Doctrine of the Mean says: “The noble person honors their nature and pursues learning; they extend themselves to what is vast and probe what is subtle; they reach the highest clarity and follow the middle way. They revisit the old to understand the new, and cultivate sincerity and depth to honor ritual.” Thus, when in a high position, they are not arrogant; when serving below, they do not rebel. When the country follows the Dao, their words can help it flourish; when it does not, their silence can preserve them. The Book of Songs says, “Clear-sighted and wise, he protects himself.” This is what it means.

Yu Qingzhong’s discussion of “carrying the hun and po” through “profound De”

The passage from “carrying the hun and po” to “this is called profound De” can be understood as follows.

Lin of Yanzhai says

“Ying” refers to the hun, or spirit; “po” refers to Jing and Qi. These three characters are where Laozi’s meaning is especially deep. “Carry” suggests bearing or standing upright: one character above, with “ying” and “po” below, almost like a riddle. When the po carries the ying, this is the state of ordinary people; when the ying carries the po, this is the state of sages. Taken together, ying and po are one; considered separately, they are two. “Embrace” means to unite them. If people can keep the two united, their true Jing will not dissipate; otherwise, they will part. That is why Laozi writes so emphatically, “Can you keep them from separating?” It is like the admonitory question in the precepts, “Can you uphold them?”

Only a great person does not lose the heart of an infant. An infant’s heart is innate knowing and innate ability: its Qi is quiet and undivided, and it can also be nurtured through gentleness and yielding. This is what is meant by not forcing one’s Qi; it is the ability to unite the two. Cleansing away falsehood and observing the dark mystery—could there be no flaws to point out? To govern the country and care for the people, one must be like Emperor Wen of Han, personally cultivating profound stillness. This is how the quietist Dao of the Huang-Lao tradition was passed down; beyond this, most efforts are laborious acts of striving.

The opening and closing of Heaven’s gate is the aperture through which Jing and Qi enter and leave. Pure Yang uses…

A Plain-Language Interpretation

(Continuing from the previous passage)

“To be able to act as the feminine and keep to the receptive” means that when Yin Qi takes advantage of a weakness and enters, one should stay alert and not simply yield to what is soft and yielding.

“Clear and understanding in every direction” means that nothing is inherently beyond one’s understanding; there is no need to show off one’s cleverness through sharp, scrutinizing insight.

“To gather and nourish” means allowing life to flow without taking credit for its achievements.

When events arise, one can respond without relying on one’s own strengths. The Dao-mind remains the master of the whole person, yet does not labor to control every movement of thought. This is called Mysterious De.

This chapter discusses the practice of cultivating the mind and nurturing one’s nature, while also containing lessons about governing the state and caring for the people. Laozi urged the rulers of his time to govern through Wuwei (non-action) and the natural way. He therefore uses a series of questions beginning “Can you… without…?” as warnings meant to provoke deep reflection. After the Three Dynasties, perhaps only Emperor Wen of Han truly understood this.

Xu Liuxu says:

“Can you carry the corporeal soul and embrace the One without letting them part?”

The human body carries the hun and po, just as an axle bears a load. The scripture says “corporeal soul” rather than “hun and po” because the hun governs movement: through movement, it can connect and sustain all things, and so it is called the “corporeal soul.”

The Jing of Inner Observation says: “That which moves to sustain the body is called the hun; that which rests to anchor the form is called the po.”

“Embrace the One without letting them part” does not mean that there is some separate “One” to hold on to and keep from slipping away. It means that the two functions of the hun and po should not be allowed to fall out of balance. The hun wanders and changes without settling, while the po is fixed and solid, resistant to change. They must therefore be held together as one, so that neither dominates the other. Then they are one in movement and one in stillness; wherever one goes, one is never anything but one. How could they part?

“Can you concentrate your Qi and become as soft as a baby?”

Can you concentrate your Jing and Qi, let your energy become vast, and reach the utmost softness—can you be like a baby? A baby remains in a state of unknowing simplicity all day long, complete in natural purity, with Qi concentrated and intention undivided. Its bones are weak and its sinews soft, yet its grip is firm.

“Can you cleanse and clear your Mysterious Mirror without a flaw?”

“Cleanse” means washing away the mind’s desires; “clear” means removing feelings of preference and aversion. “Mysterious” means Heaven, and “mirror” means illumination. When desires are emptied, Heaven’s light appears of itself. By illuminating and observing the true source, one can be free of every flaw.

One interpretation of the “Heavenly Gate”:

The Heavenly Gate refers to the gate of the Purple Palace at the North Pole. Heaven has the Pole Star within the Purple Palace, where the Five Emperors take turns ruling and resting; thus the gate opens and closes. When it opens, things flourish; when it closes, they decline. For example, in spring the Azure Emperor is in command and the gate opens, while during the rest of the year it is mostly closed. The four seasons follow roughly this pattern. (There is also another interpretation, which is recorded here as well.)

A Plain-Language Interpretation of Collected Meanings of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue

On “flaws”:

When it says, “Having flaws is bad,” “flaws” means faults or defects. If one can remove them—even if only a trace of impurity is removed—that too is a root cause of becoming lost and unawakened, life after life. The three sections above discuss what matters most to those who resolve to cultivate the Dao.

Next, the text discusses a ruler’s love for the people and the principles of governing the state:

“Can one love the people and govern the state through Wuwei (non-action)?” Loving the people and governing the state can be understood on two levels. In terms of Wuwei, if the people are cared for through Wuwei, they will be at peace; if the state is governed through Wuwei, it will be at peace. Wuwei does not mean sitting with folded hands in silence. It means helping the people in ways that accord with their interests, so that care for them is far-reaching; and governing where the state needs to be governed, so that governance is broad in scope. This is what it means to be able to practice Wuwei. The Tongxuan Jing says that one who practices Wuwei does not act ahead of all things. It also says, “Following the natural course brings great results; contrived action brings meager results.” To treat small favors as love for the people, or harsh punishments as a way to govern the state, is far too petty.

“When Heaven’s Gate opens and closes, can one remain receptive?”

Heaven’s Gate is the great foundation of the world. Good fortune and misfortune, order and disorder, all emerge from it; it is the gateway of natural transformation. The Dao has times of openness and blockage, and times move with or against the current. This is the way of natural transformation, like a gate opening and closing, and it cannot be predicted in advance. The wise remain receptive and still as they await what comes, and all goes well. Those who act forcefully and take the lead are likely to be in danger.

“When one’s understanding reaches in all directions, can one remain free of knowing?”

A ruler may be intelligent and widely learned, with understanding that reaches everywhere, yet still keep his wisdom hidden and entrust affairs to worthy people. Sitting quietly in proper dignity, he can bring order to the state without exhausting his mind, live a long life, and keep the realm at peace.

“Give life and nurture; let things grow, but do not rule them.”

The ruler gives life to the people and nurtures their growth, yet does not dominate them. As the head of the people, he holds that position without controlling them. He need not issue many laws and commands; the people simply know that they have a ruler, and live at ease. That is why it says, “Let things grow, but do not rule them.” This is called mysterious De (Virtue/Power). “Mysterious” means Heaven; when a ruler cultivates himself in this way, he is said to share De with Heaven.

“Carrying the soul and embracing the one” means letting soul and corporeal soul have something to hold to, as a cart carries things. The corporeal soul is easily pulled outward by things and grows restless, so one must guard it carefully so body and mind do not overturn. “Embracing the one” is single-mindedness without division; when this is achieved, spirit and mind do not scatter.

Unifying and harmonizing breath until it is as soft as an infant’s means breath does not leak from the nose and one can preserve taixi (the subtle, deep breathing of Daoist practice). Cleansing distractions in the heart so inner contemplation is clear and without flaw means spirit does not race outward through the eyes, and wisdom and intent become complete. Loving the people and governing the state yet practicing wuwei means not being enslaved by bodily desires, so sinews and bones can be strong. The tianmen (gate of heaven) opening and closing while one keeps still and does not lean to one side means opening and closing are unbroken, so one never leaves the root. Tianmen is the gateway through which Tianli (Heaven’s principle) moves in and out; it is also used to describe the opening and closing of body–mind and qi.

Seeing clearly and penetrating in all directions yet not clinging to cleverness and knowledge means jingqi (essence-energy) is not lost through the senses, and mind-consciousness can be deep and settled.

Letting the myriad things grow and nurturing them without claiming ownership; acting without relying on one’s merit; guiding the myriad things without dominating them—this is skill in preserving life. Whoever can do this is called xuande (mysterious virtue, virtue that is deep and natural). Constantly guarding the root of body and mind and using it to restrain outward force keeps one from self-praise and steadies the corporeal soul. Thus cultivation can complete the virtue of the sage.

Su Jingjing said: From “carrying the soul” through “this is called mysterious virtue,” Laozi’s intent is “give birth without possessing, act without relying on merit, lead without dominating”: let things grow without owning them, act without leaning on achievement, guide without ruling. The passage takes “carrying the soul” and “embracing the one” as its thread. Ying is dwelling and support; po belongs to qi, hun to shen; zai is like a cart bearing a load. Though the corporeal soul is where the soul abides, when the soul moves, the corporeal soul moves with it, as a cart carries goods forward. This says soul and corporeal soul should be one whole, not split in two. Once they separate, a person loses the wholeness of life.

Laozi then uses likeness: soul and corporeal soul united are as pure and soft as the five signs of an infant. When breath is unified and softness reaches its utmost, soul and corporeal soul can join and not part—this is called pure solidity. Washing away stains and viewing the deep and mysterious: if one always hunts for faults, doubt easily grows; if one clears distractions without deliberately picking at errors, soul and corporeal soul can unite and not leave—this is called no-mind. Loving the people and governing the state, if one acts in a wuwei way so all is quiet and natural, soul and corporeal soul can also unite and not part—this is called purity. Tianmen opening and closing is where Tianli runs in and out; yin and yang meet and pair in accord with principle without deliberate intent, and soul and corporeal soul unite without leaving—this is called no-desire. Seeing clearly in all directions yet as if without clinging knowledge and discrimination is gathering inner clarity back into the heart.

“Darkness” and “Brightness”

“Darkness” can unite the hun and po souls so they do not separate; this is what is meant by “concealing brightness.” “Firmness” means being wholly steadfast, free of intention, pure, and without desire. Once brightness is concealed, the hun and po naturally “embrace the One.” Their embracing the One is the root of life. The Way of Heaven takes the generation and nourishment of the myriad things as its concern, and gives particular care to human beings: to bring them forth and nurture them is the Way of Heaven. If the hun and po separate, life cannot arise. Laozi taught people through five matters. The benevolence with which Heaven and Earth bring forth living things is boundless; yet the Way of Heaven “gives life but does not possess”—does it ever claim credit for giving life? It “acts but does not rely on its accomplishments”—does it ever pride itself on what it has done? Though it is foremost among the myriad things, it has no will to rule them. This is called mysterious De (Virtue/Power). To take the hun and po embracing the One as the basis of life’s continual renewal, and to take non-possession, non-reliance, and non-domination as a way of not harboring the intention to claim the kindness of nurturing life: in this, Heaven and the sage are one.

A Note by the Hermit of Yian

Earlier Confucian scholars have already discussed the meaning of the hun and po in detail, from “bearing the hun and po” through “this is called mysterious De.” In my humble view, Confucius says in the Book of Rites, “The po is the fullness of the ghost.” Zheng Xuan’s commentary explains, “The keen clarity of the ears and eyes is the po.” This is the most concise and precise account. Zhu Xi held that ying is the same as ying in the sense of “radiant,” meaning keen and brilliant; thus “ying and po” refers to the numinous spirit of the bodily form.

When the human body takes shape, spirit emerges. The keen clarity of the ears, eyes, mouth, and nose all originate in one nature. This is what Buddhists mean by, “Originally resting on one clarity of essence, it divides into the six harmonies.” But because we are drawn along by external things, wandering on without returning, the body is worn down from without and awareness thrown into confusion within. Then, at death, the hun rises and the po descends, and they can no longer reunite. It is difficult to die without forgetting. Therefore, those who understand the Dao gather in their gaze and turn back their hearing, turning the light around and reflecting inward to return to the source of the one nature. “Bearing” means abiding without straying; “embracing” means preserving wholeness without losing it; “the One” is nature. This is what Buddhists mean by, “Turning the flow back, the six functions no longer operate; brightness does not follow its roots, but lodges in the roots and shines forth.” “Lodges in the roots and shines forth” means bearing the hun and po; “turning the flow back and becoming whole in the One” means embracing the One without separation. This is the essential path to restoring nature and fulfilling one’s bodily form. It is not merely a matter of specializing in refining body and spirit to prolong life and endure.

“Concentrated,” “Fully Realized,” and “Infant”

“Concentrated” means undivided; “fully realized” means brought to the utmost. An infant has no thoughts and is not stirred by the lures of knowledge and reflection.

“Zai” is an opening word, and comes from Heaven.

Shi Tan says: “‘Carry the hun-soul and embrace the One, and you can keep them from separating’—the ancient commentators explain ying as the hun-soul. The hun is the moon’s brightness; the po is its dark body. The moon receives light from the sun and becomes bright. The po must carry the hun for life to arise and endure. ‘Embrace the One’ means that the po and hun unite as one and never separate.

“‘Concentrate the Qi and bring it to softness, and you can be like a newborn’—people receive bodily form and Qi at birth. When Yang Qi grows strong, they cannot restrain themselves and are liable to drift away, losing their original nature. It is good to concentrate and guard one’s Qi, making it soft. A newborn may have an erection, yet knows nothing of the union of male and female. This is the meaning of the later passage, ‘One whose De is abundant is like a newborn.’

“‘Wash away and clear the mysterious mirror, and you can be without flaw’—according to the ancient explanation, the mind surveys all things.

“On Qi and softness in the preceding passage: When Qi is concentrated, there is no contention between self and things to damage its softness. When softness reaches its utmost, one who strives to keep the Qi soft can sustain it for a while, but cannot make it constant. Only by becoming like a newborn does one reach perfection. Both of these return to the beginning of life. But washing away and clearing the mysterious mirror is the utmost achievement of the sage. Washing away dust and grime is where true vision comes from: if even a speck of an external thing remains, clarity and insight are still incomplete by the tiniest measure. Only when the clearing is complete and the mind’s eye is bright can one see all things through. The pure are then pure, and even the impure are pure; there is no choosing, and no flaw is seen. This is the ultimate state.

“When cultivation of the self reaches this point, extending it to govern the world, respond to things, and care for the people is the ordinary way of governing a state. The opening and closing of Heaven’s Gate is its changing aspect—as the Yijing says, ‘One closing and one opening are called change.’ To be the female means to harmonize without taking the lead, to follow rather than go first. In ordinary circumstances, there is no trace of deliberate action; when facing change, there is no intention to get ahead of things. One neither goes out to meet things nor drives them away, but rests in what is natural. To understand all things clearly and yet be without knowledge is what is meant by guarding intelligence, insight, and wisdom with simplicity. To give life and nurture is De. To give life without possessing, to act without relying on one’s action, and to guide without ruling: this is to embody De without a mind that clings to De. This is the mysterious De. In this chapter, Laozi sets out a complete way to cultivate the self and govern the state.”

Lu of the Shiyi says: “‘Zai’ comes from Heaven; it is an opening word.”

Plain-Language Interpretation of Collected Meanings of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue (Part Two)

Wiping Clean the Mysterious Mirror

Once a person’s thoughts are stirred by external things, they must sweep away outward desires, leaving not even the slightest stray thought or flaw in the heart. Only then can their cultivation be considered sound.

In caring for the people and governing the state, can one practice Wuwei (non-action)?

Can one care for the people and govern the state through Wuwei? Traditional commentaries often give this two meanings: those who cultivate themselves cherish their Jing (essence) so that their bodies remain intact; those who govern the people care for them so that the state remains at peace. Both meanings are contained in “can one practice Wuwei?” In self-cultivation, this means “using it without exhausting it,” as the previous chapter says; in governing the people, it means what is called “governing through Wuwei.” However, the version attributed to Heshang Gong reads “without knowledge,” which fits the next passage. The main text should nevertheless retain “Wuwei.”

When Heaven’s gate opens and closes, can one remain receptive and yielding?

Cheng Taizhi cites the Zhuangzi: the opening through which all things in the cosmos enter and leave life and death, existence and nonexistence, is called “Heaven’s gate.” “Receptive and yielding” refers to stillness and gentleness. To remain so means that Yin-Yang opens and closes, bringing forth all things, yet never claims to be doing so. This is the meaning of “giving birth without possessing.”

When illumination reaches everywhere, can one be without knowledge?

To shine brightly and reach in all directions, yet remain “without knowledge,” means that although the mind knows everything, it never makes a deliberate effort to seek knowledge. In other words, one “gains without thinking and knows without deliberating.”

It gives them life and nurtures them… this is called Mysterious De

The earlier phrases—“carrying the corporeal soul,” “concentrating Qi,” “attaining softness,” “wiping clean,” and “the mysterious mirror”—mostly concern self-cultivation. “Caring for the people and governing the state,” “Heaven’s gate opening and closing,” and “illumination reaching everywhere” also concern external things and the world. The three phrases that follow sum up the passage:

“Giving them life and nurturing them” means nourishing all things. “Giving life without possessing, acting without relying on it, and guiding without ruling” is called Mysterious De. All things find their proper place, yet do not know why this happens. This is Mysterious De, much as the people do not feel that the ruler is exerting force to make things happen.