《道德真經廣聖義》Vol. 19

The Broadly Expounding Sacred Meaning of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue, Volume Eighteen (excerpt)

By Du Guangting, Master Guangcheng of the Tang dynasty

Chapter Twenty: “Cut Off Learning, and There Will Be No Worry”

Commentary: The previous chapter spoke of abandoning numerous side paths and returning to simplicity, so that thieves would have no opening to exploit. This chapter speaks of dispelling worldly learning through a sense of caution, and of how the sage, in his obscurity, stands apart from other people. The opening phrase marks out the path by indicating what it means to “cut off.” The next seven phrases use examples to clarify the principle; the following seventeen distinguish ordinary people from sages through comparison; the final two discuss walking alone and bring the argument to a close.

The Meaning says: Cut off learning that endlessly accumulates, and preserve quiet harmony; cast aside empty display, and there will be no troubles. The examples of “yes” and “yeah,” of respectful deference and contempt, explain the difference between cutting off and not cutting off: both arise in the heart, while “yes” and “yeah” are both spoken by the mouth. If one can cut off such learning, one accords with stillness and returns to the Dao; if one cannot, one sinks into intellectual views and loses what is true. A respectful “yes” is courteous and brings no blame, while a careless “yeah” is arrogant and invites wrongdoing. Both come from the heart and mouth, yet their outcomes are auspicious or ill. What people should fear is inviting wrongdoing and losing what is true; they should fear their inability to cut off intellectual views and their lack of respect. Knowing this, they cannot help but be cautious. This is the exhortation to “cut off learning.” While the multitude follows paths contrary to the Dao, the sage therefore stands apart: he rejects the rich flavors of a great sacrificial feast, keeps his heart and eyes free from delight in the spring terrace, dispels the harm of sharp scrutiny, and casts off the tangle of “action” and restless agitation. Within, he embraces the mother of Qi, and moves like an infant, embodying the utmost truth.

“Cut Off Learning, and There Will Be No Worry”

Note: Cut off worldly learning based on deliberate action, and simplicity will remain intact. With fewer selfish desires, there will be no worry.

Commentary: “Cutting off learning” means cutting off worldly learning based on deliberate action. Human beings are originally endowed with genuine simplicity. Seeking learning beyond one’s proper measure harms one’s nature and multiplies one’s affairs. To make everything entirely inactive would mean that nothing could be cultivated; here, the point is to cut off learning that is deliberate and exceeds its proper measure.

The Meaning says: “Cut off” means to remove and sever. The Venerable Lord wished people of later generations gradually to cherish simplicity and harmony, and to cut off delusive habits; hence the phrase “cut off learning.” “Worldly learning based on deliberate action” refers to learning in the world that is founded on deliberate action. From the Three Dynasties onward, turmoil and confusion came to revolve around rewards and punishments. How could the people of the world find time to cherish their true nature?

Note: Here, “great sacrificial feast” means the abundant offerings of a grand sacrifice; “spring terrace” evokes ascending a terrace in spring and delighting the eyes; “mother of Qi” means the source of the single Qi, the fundamental Qi. “Yes” and “yeah” come from the Dao De Jing passage, “How much difference is there between ‘yes’ and ‘yeah’?” Here, “yes” is a respectful and deferential reply, while “yeah” is a careless, dismissive one.

Meaning of the Scripture

How can we settle the natural feelings of our nature and life? Craving cleverness leads us to indulge in sights and sounds; craving quick wit leads us to indulge in sound. Craving benevolence disrupts our conduct; craving righteousness makes us go against the natural course of things. Craving ritual and law encourages hypocrisy; craving music encourages excess and dissipation. Craving the reputation of a sage encourages artful display; craving knowledge encourages faults. These eight are the great troubles of worldly learning.

When we are content with the allotment we have received, we do not crave excessive pleasure. But if we reach beyond our proper bounds, forcefully pursue what lies outside them, and grow accustomed to craving it, we invite the calamities of excess and rebellion. We harm natural harmony and disturb our inborn nature. To cut off all learning indiscriminately, however, is also to neglect what should be cultivated. Only by letting our natural, uncontrived nature remain constant can we accord with what is right.

Commentary

This is what Zhuangzi means by people who “use worldly learning to seek a return to the beginning of nature and life.” If one’s learning stays within one’s proper bounds and follows one’s nature, then a superior person’s diligent cultivation does not count as “cutting off learning.” That is why Laozi says, “Cut off learning, and you will have no worries.”

Explanation of the Meaning

In “Cultivating One’s Nature,” Zhuangzi says that ordinary people have settled their nature and life within the conventions of the world, then try to use worldly learning to restore their original nature and life. The farther they go, the more they stray. They are called a deluded people, ever more distant from the Dao. It is better not to make cleverness one’s aim, but to let one’s natural understanding operate freely. Even if one’s wisdom encompasses all things, one can still remain calm and at ease.

“Within one’s proper bounds” means following one’s own nature and preserving simplicity and truth. When wisdom follows what is genuine, it is wisdom; when it is contrived beyond one’s bounds, it becomes deceit. When ritual follows what is genuine, it is ritual; beyond one’s bounds, it becomes disorder. When loyalty follows what is genuine, it is loyalty; beyond one’s bounds, it becomes sycophancy. When benevolence follows what is genuine, it is benevolence; beyond one’s bounds, it becomes flattery. When righteousness follows what is genuine, it is righteousness; beyond one’s bounds, it becomes theft. When trustworthiness follows what is genuine, it is trustworthiness; beyond one’s bounds, it becomes falsehood.

To contrive things beyond one’s proper bounds is to lose the Dao and invite many worries. To keep within one’s proper bounds is to remain genuine and free from fear. Hence the saying, “Cut off learning, and you will have no worries.” A superior person acts diligently by preserving simplicity and truth and refraining from contrivance.

Laozi’s Text and Commentary

“Wei” is a respectful affirmative reply; “a” is a careless, dismissive response. Both come from the same mouth—how far apart can they be? If “good” and “bad,” too, depend on distinctions made through speech and hearing, and on clinging and contrivance, how far apart are they really?

Commentary: “Wei” and “a” come from the same mouth. If “good” and “bad” also fall into distinctions made by the tongue, they are not far removed from “wei” and “a.”

The following is a plain-language explanation of this passage from the Extensive Commentary on the True Scripture of the Way and Its Virtue. Much of the original text is missing, so the explanation follows the generally accepted sense of the passage.

Main idea

This passage says that people should revere what others rightly revere—the Dao of Heaven, the spirits, and the legitimate authority of those in high positions—and should never treat it lightly. In governing a state and cultivating oneself, one must also keep fear in proper measure. This allows one to preserve the Qi (vital energy) of one’s natural state and to maintain lasting peace and stability. Much of the opening commentary is missing, but its general meaning follows the later statement: “What people fear must not be treated without fear.”

Authority and reverence: essential to governing and making one’s way in the world

For the people, authority—the prestige and laws that inspire respect and awe—is of the utmost importance. Authority is not merely a means of defending against external enemies. Before undertaking a distant journey, one must establish authority before seeking closeness; to govern the people, one must first inspire their respect and obedience, after which they can truly submit.

If one relies only on authority, people will be afraid. If one neglects authority, they will become unruly. Historical accounts give examples: Zichan governed according to the right way and the people respected him; Yi Yin took an oath before his troops and the people rallied to him; Shen Hou cultivated virtue, while Muzi grew arrogant; and the people of Jin rebelled when its government was dazzled by its own policies. The common lesson is that authority must be the foundation.

The commentary also says that if those in high positions cannot inspire reverence among the people, the people will take them lightly. Confucius’ point is that when people feel reverence, they dare not transgress. That is why Laozi says, “It must not be treated without fear.” When those in high positions revere the Dao of Heaven and the laws, their orders can be fair, and neither those above nor those below will harbor resentment.

“What people fear must not be treated without fear”: the natural and the spirits

Kong Anguo’s commentary on the Analects says that one should wish to “remain continually in the Qi of one’s natural state.”

The natural—the Dao in its original, non-active state—has no form or appearance, and cannot be preserved for long through attachment. Only by following and aligning with the Dao above can one endure. The spirits are profound and subtle: formless, yet responsive to things. They accord with the myriad beings, manifest numinous virtue, and move freely in perfect harmony. One must not slight what accords with the spirits and the workings of creation; where there is no such accord, one should remain reverent and cautious. Thus the saying, “What people fear must not be treated without fear,” expresses the fundamental reason one can remain in the natural state.

The commentary says that when one reveres what ought to be feared, the protection of the spirits can be preserved. First one shows reverence and keeps a respectful distance; only then can one win the people’s obedience, prevent wrongdoing, and secure peace and good order in the state. The point is that one follows what is worthy of reverence because of one’s sense of awe, and dares not slacken. This is what makes it possible to endure.

By contrast, when authority and commands become too severe, fear comes before resentment has even taken shape, and those below resent those above. At that point, although people “have no choice but to fear,” the enduring natural order has already been lost. When the state of Yue fell, its ruler became afraid and then competed with Jin for power. The rulers of You, Xia, Yu, and Tang welcomed admonitions and remained wary; both rulers were humble and reverent, and so endured. Jie acted without regard for the Dao, lost himself, and saw his state destroyed; Zhou killed Bi Gan and brought his state to the brink of ruin. Nothing inspires deeper fear than the exercise of authority and commands.

People’s hearts are easily unsettled, and sudden fear often arises from a sense of awe. Only when reverence is joined with caution will those below obey and honor those above. The rulers of You, Xia, Yu, and Tang showed mutual reverence; arrogance and self-indulgence bring danger upon oneself. The tyranny of Jie and Zhou serves as a warning.

(The final section also mentions Emperor Taizu of Song, the display of authority, and showing reverence toward those above without letting commands reach those who are dismissive. Some characters are too blurred to read; the general meaning is the same as above: when authority and commands are kept in due measure, there is no resentment between those above and below; when they are too severe, the natural order is lost.)

In brief: deference and dismissiveness are expressed in speech through “yes” and “no,” while freedom from worry comes from the heart’s rejection of learning. “What people fear must not be treated without fear” is a way to preserve the natural state and secure the state’s peace. But authority must not become excessive: too much fear takes one away from the natural order, so it must be joined with stillness and Wuwei (non-action).

Commentary in Plain Language

Note: Ordinary people fear negligence and wrongdoing. Good people—those who cultivate the Dao (the Way)—fear worldly learning and deliberate action. These should all be cut off, so one must remain wary and firmly abandon them.

Explanation: People fear that negligence will bring disaster and wrongdoing will make others despise them. Once despised, they will be shunned by everyone; if they have done wrong, they will be blamed at every turn. How much more should they fear that worldly learning and deliberate action multiply disputes? If one does not remain wary and cut them off, they violate their proper place and damage their nature. Therefore, one must be wary and decisively abandon them.

Meaning: Negligence and wrongdoing bring faults. People know to fear these, but do not realize that worldly learning multiplies disputes and readily leads to regret, so they do not fear it. Thus, those who have the Dao fear that worldly learning makes people overstep their bounds and injures their nature, and they cast it aside and cut it off. This is more vital than the common people’s fear of negligence and wrongdoing alone.

How wild and boundless it becomes!

Note: If one does not fear and cut off worldly learning, the pure, original nature of living beings will be laid waste without end or respite.

Explanation: “Wild” means laid waste. Negligence and wrongdoing are faults, and the loss of truth through worldly learning is also something to fear; it should be cast aside and cut off. If it is not abandoned, the pure, original nature will be laid waste without end.

Meaning: “Limit” means the center; it can also mean dawn, or an end or stopping point. Worldly learning leads in many directions: keen discernment gives rise to faultfinding; cleverness gives rise to disputes; perversity gives rise to licentiousness; falsehood gives rise to boastful exaggeration; little learning gives rise to longing and imitation; much learning gives rise to exhaustion; boldness gives rise to contention; and talent and skill give rise to judgments of superiority and inferiority. Resenting those who surpass oneself and striving to outdo them, admiring those with broad knowledge and seeking ever more, exhausting the spirit, burdening the mind, and damaging one’s nature all lead away from genuine simplicity. That is why this is called a loss of truth. Once one departs from genuine simplicity, one’s proper nature is laid waste. It is like a good field, naturally free of weeds, in which mugwort, orchids, and brambles spread unchecked: the nature of the land becomes wasted and overgrown. Worldly learning lays waste to a person’s true nature in the same way, like weeds spreading unchecked. Hence the word “wild.” The Zuo Commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals says, “Do not let it spread; once it does, it will be hard to control. Spreading weeds cannot be cleared away.” This is the same idea.

Explanation: The Book of Songs says, “The night is not yet over,” meaning that many watches of the night remain. Here, “it is not yet over” means that worldly learning injures one’s nature without any end in sight; the road ahead is still long. Hence the phrase “not yet over.”

Meaning: Once worldly learning takes hold, it leads to one related thing after another. If it is not cut off, it will only grow day by day, becoming increasingly chaotic and boundless, with its end still far away.

The “Tingliao” chapter says, “The night is not yet halfway through.” “Halfway” means midnight; “not yet halfway through” means that dawn has not come. It says that the night has not yet reached midnight, and that worldly learning cannot exhaust its deeper meaning.

“Everyone is lively and delighted, as if attending a great sacrificial feast or climbing a spring terrace.”

Commentary: People become absorbed in worldly learning and contrived activity, eagerly chasing external things. They are like those attending a grand sacrifice with all three sacrificial animals, or climbing a spring terrace to gaze into the distance. From this, desire arises.

Exegesis: “Lively and delighted” describes stirred desires and an unsettled mind. This passage speaks of those who fear abandoning worldly learning. Worldly learning and contrived activity stir desire with every movement. Eagerly chasing experiences, people toil all their lives, like hungry men greedily savoring a lavish feast of the three sacrificial animals, or like those who climb a spring terrace to gaze outward and are suddenly swept up in passion.

Interpretation: “Adorned beauty”—the “Appended Judgments” of the Book of Changes says, “Adorned beauty invites licentiousness.” It means that a woman whose appearance is alluring and immodest may, through her bearing, easily arouse lustful thoughts in others. How much more so when one climbs a spring terrace and gazes into the distance? “Lively and delighted” means cheerful and self-satisfied. Those devoted to worldly learning indulge their nature and take pleasure in themselves, unaware of their own fatigue, yet their feelings are led along by whatever they encounter. Thus turmoil over right and wrong arises, along with fortune and misfortune, gain and loss. Some wear six seals at their waists and are appointed to five offices; when they grow angry, the feudal lords tremble, and when they dwell in peace, all under Heaven is at rest. They are fulfilled by splendor and, in their time, enjoy wealth and rank. Five cauldrons of delicacies line their tables, until they tire of the flavors of the sacrificial feast. Every kind of flower delights their nature, and they take pleasure in surveying the spring terrace. The beauties of Yan and Luo, the dances of Chu and the songs of Wu, the eight tones assault their ears, and the five colors intoxicate their eyes. Their pleasure is real—but what comes of it in the end? Perhaps, when good fortune reaches its peak, decline follows; when blessings are spent, calamity arises. The joy of being lively and delighted turns into trembling anxiety. Confucius said to Yan Hui, “Once I thought that accepting Heaven’s lot and understanding destiny meant having no worries. Now I know that accepting Heaven’s lot and understanding destiny is itself a great cause for worry.” If even a sage is like this, what can be said of ordinary people? Better to settle the mind and spirit in a place of contentment, and let one’s nature rest in a realm beyond knowing.

Exegesis: “The three sacrificial animals” means an ox, a sheep, and a pig.

Interpretation: The Record of Ritual says, “A grand sacrifice need not have anything left over.” This refers to the names for different sizes of sacrificial offerings. It also says that feudal lords used seven sets of sacrificial animals and high officials five. Thus, in the Spring and Autumn Annals, Wu’s demand that Lu provide one hundred sets of sacrificial animals refers to this practice. An ox, sheep, and pig together are called a set of sacrificial animals. An ox used in sacrifice was called a sacrificial ox: the Son of Heaven used an ox of pure, uniform color; feudal lords used a fattened ox; and high officials used an ox led in alive, selected for the occasion.

Plain-Language Interpretation

Sacrificial Animals (Oxen, Sheep, and Pigs) and “Lao”

Sacrificial animals could not be chosen arbitrarily. An ox was called “the great, primordial beast.” Before the Son of Heaven performed a major sacrifice, the ox had to be tethered in a lao (an animal pen) and fed fodder for three full months. Its care and selection had to follow the proper rules, to guard against unforeseen mishaps. As the Zuo Commentary says, if a field mouse gnawed the horn of an ox intended for the suburban sacrifice, divination had to be performed again and another animal selected.

Sheep were used by the Son of Heaven in ancestral temple rites such as xin (smearing sacrificial vessels with blood), the opening of the ice stores, and the monthly announcement of the calendar. Sheep used for these rites were called “soft wool.” At the spring rite when wheat was eaten, a sheep was the accompanying offering.

Pigs were commonly used by the Son of Heaven in sacrifices. Together with oxen and sheep, they were called the three sacrificial animals: an offering of oxen was called a great lao, one of sheep a middle lao, and one of pigs a lesser lao. Pigs were also called “stiff bristles.” According to ritual law, the Son of Heaven did not kill an ox without special reason, and a high official did not kill a dog or pig without special reason. These animals were designated for sacrificial rites; killing them outside those rites counted as killing “without cause.”

The term lao refers to keeping livestock penned in securely, and thus generally means an enclosure for animals raised for sacrifice. Such an enclosure was also called a “lao.”

The Spring Terrace and “The Seventh Month” from the Air of Bei

Commentary: A raised platform built from packed earth is called a terrace. It is also built by taking advantage of high ground, so that one can climb up and look into the distance. When spring arrives, Heaven and Earth mingle, and all things come together. The gentle breeze is warm and the sun moves slowly. From a terrace, as one gazes in every direction, the heart and spirit readily open and wander freely. That is why the Air of Bei says: “The spring days are long and slow; we gather mugwort in abundance. The young woman’s heart is sad; she longs to go with the young lord and return with him.”

Explanation: A terrace is built by piling up earth, or by using high ground to make a platform for looking far and wide. In spring, Heaven and Earth are warm and gentle, and all things respond to one another. The breeze is mild and the sun warm; from a terrace, the view is harmonious and moving. The cang geng (oriole) is already singing, marking the season of spring. Gathering fan (white mugwort, which people in ancient times used to guide silkworms onto the trays) is a sign that it is time to raise silkworms. “In abundance” describes something plentiful. “Sad” means suffering from what has happened. In spring, women respond to Yang Qi and are more readily stirred to love and sorrowful thoughts; in autumn, men respond to Yin Qi and are more readily stirred to thought. This is the ordinary principle of Yin-Yang: things are moved by the influence of their kind. “Longs” means “to reach” or “to come to”; “to go with the young lord and return with him” means thinking of marrying the young lord and returning with him. Under ritual law, the second month was the time for marriage, and women, stirred by spring, thought of finding a mate. These lines from the Air of Bei appear in “The Seventh Month” in the Airs of the States. Zheng Xuan’s commentary explains that cang geng means oriole.

“I Alone Am Hesitant” in the Dao De Jing and Its Commentaries

Scripture: “I alone am hesitant, without any sign of stirring, like an infant who has not yet learned to smile.”

注: I alone am quiet and still, in a state of “hesitation.” As for greed and desire, they leave no trace or sign at all, like an infant who cannot yet smile or play.

Commentary: “I” is Lao Jun’s (Laozi’s) way of referring to himself. I have left behind worldly learning and hold to the Dao, containing harmony within me; I alone can remain quiet and still. In a world where people act compulsively and have many desires, I show almost no trace of such things, like an infant who has not yet learned to smile or play.

This passage comes from the Expansive Commentary on the Meaning of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue (Daode Zhenjing Guang Shengyi). It discusses Laozi’s idea of the “infant” state and compares it with passages in Zhuangzi and Confucian writings.

“The child distinguishes; the infant means someone who can recognize others”

Zhuangzi says: If people cannot remain in the “infant” stage, they begin to distinguish and to recognize “self” and “other.”

Explanation: “Pa xi” describes a quiet, Wuwei (non-action) state; “signs” are the first stirrings of form. Lao Jun saw that people of his time kept changing, chasing fame and profit, studying worldly subjects, and indulging their desires. In doing so, they dissipated their natural harmony and ultimately gained nothing. He was not urging people to withdraw from the world. Rather, he taught them to return to a state of silence, closing off sight and hearing and cutting off thought, like an infant who makes no distinctions and knows nothing, abiding in hidden mystery.

An infant has not yet distinguished between self and other, or right and wrong; a child has begun to distinguish. When nothing has yet taken shape and no signs have arisen in the mind, one has reached the utmost state of forgetting. In the “Tian Yun” chapter of the Zhuangzi, Lao Jun tells Zigong that the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors governed the world in different ways. When Shun governed, he made people’s minds contend with one another. Thus a pregnant woman gave birth after ten months, and a child could speak at five months, though it still could not recognize people as a “child” does. The point is that once people’s minds contend, distinctions arise. When harmony dissipates, speaking at five months is considered too early, and all things become prone to decline.

The “Benming” chapter of the Family Sayings of Confucius says that, at three months, a person’s pupils can move and then see; at eight months, teeth grow and the person can eat; at one year, the person can stand and then walk; and at three years, the person can join words together and speak. If a child can speak at five months, this shows that harmony has dissipated and the temperament has become impatient.

“Moving along, moving along, as though with nowhere to return”

Note: The perfected person has no mind of their own, moves along with things, and neither takes nor gives. They are like a traveler who does not know where they are going. “Moving along” describes acting in accord with the course of things.

Commentary: “Moving along” means acting in accord with circumstances. Ordinary people become attached as soon as they act, and are always seeking something, so they seem to have somewhere they need to go. I, the sage, have no mind of my own: quiet and still, I flow when carried by the current and stop when I meet an obstruction. Like a traveler on the road, I have no fixed destination and feel no urgency.

Explanation: Ordinary people cling to what they seek, pursuing worldly learning, competing for superiority, and striving after worldly desires. They therefore seem always to have a “destination.” The sage has no mind of their own and clings to no views, but is at ease. What could hold them back? They are like water: it flows when a channel is opened and stops when it is dammed. It does not contend with things and seeks nothing; hence, “as though with nowhere to return.”

Brief notes on names and terms:

• Lao Jun: An honorific title for Laozi.
• Pa xi: Describes a quiet, detached state of Wuwei (non-action), as in the Dao De Jing passage, “I alone am still and quiet, without signs.”
• The realm of silent seeing and hearing: Turning away from the pursuit of external sights and sounds and returning to inward reflection and quietude.
• The perfected person: In Daoist thought, someone who understands nature fully and acts without self-directed intention, following the course of things.

The following is a plain-language interpretation of selected passages from Guangshengyi on the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue, intended to stay close to the meaning of the original commentaries.

General meaning of the scripture

People of the world are immersed in worldly affairs and show off their cleverness and ingenuity. They think they have more than enough and like to display their brilliance. I alone seem to have too little, as though I had forgotten something.

Note

I often seem to lack what I need, as if I had forgotten something.

Commentary

Everyone is bound by worldly learning and boasts of cleverness and intelligence, treating these as signs of abundance. I, by contrast, set them aside. My mind does not cling or become stained by attachment, so I seem to have forgotten something.

Interpretation

People rely on worldly learning to build their reputations, compete with one another in cleverness, and outdo one another in wealth and profit. In the ways of the world, each claims to have “more than enough.” The Old Lord (Laozi), however, lets go of thought and quiets the intellect. He neither clings nor boasts; his mind and spirit are indistinct, allowing things to follow their natural course, as though he had forgotten something.

“My mind is that of a fool! So simple and unadorned!”

Note

Could my mind really be that of a fool, to the point of forgetting everything? No. It is only because my mind is “simple and unadorned,” plain and unrefined, that I seem to have forgotten.

Commentary

I have realized, in the midst of all things, that there is nothing to cling to, so I seem to have forgotten. Does this mean I am truly foolish? It is only that my mind is simple and unadorned, plain and free of desire, so I merely seem to have forgotten.

Interpretation

The Old Lord is the source that nourishes and transforms the myriad things, and the principal ancestor of Heaven and Earth. His wisdom is complete and his sacred Virtue (De) mysteriously profound, yet he shows people how to merge with the Dao by letting go of self-conscious thought. What cultivators of the Dao should strive for is to restore people’s simple and unadorned nature, resisting the spread of corruption, and to turn their gaze and hearing inward, returning to the Dao and Virtue. This does not mean that he was innately foolish or benighted, or that he had truly “lost” his nature.

“The common people are bright and alert; I alone seem dim.”

Note

“Bright and alert” means showing off one’s cleverness and intelligence; “seem dim” means keeping oneself in the background.

“The common people are sharp and discerning; I alone am dull and unresponsive.”

Note

“Sharp and discerning” means establishing laws and standards to restrain others; “dull and unresponsive” means being generous and broad-minded, without self-conscious intent.

Commentary

“Bright and alert” means flaunting cleverness and intelligence. “Seem dim” means appearing muddled and making no distinctions. “Sharp and discerning” means setting up laws to discipline the common people through instruction and governance. “Dull and unresponsive” means being broad-minded and acting without self-conscious intent. Thus, instruction based on brightness and scrutiny arises because worldly learning has not been cast aside, and because people act deliberately and leave traces of their effort. The sage therefore fears and rejects these things, preferring to seem dim and remain silent.

Interpretation

From rulers at the top to ordinary people below, if they follow the impulses of worldly learning and forget the root of great simplicity, then in governing they will display their sagely intelligence and enforce statutes with sharp scrutiny. The more they exercise sagely intelligence, the more cumbersome governance becomes; the clearer the statutes, the more burdened the people become. The Old Lord remains dim and silent. He does not deliberately transform people; instead, things proceed of themselves, with the Dao operating naturally.

Explanation

“Old Lord” is an honorific for Laozi, traditionally regarded as the author of the Dao De Jing. “Great simplicity” refers to the uncarved, naturally simple state. “Bright and alert” and “sharp and discerning” are paired with “dim and silent” and “dull and unresponsive.” The passage echoes the style of chapter 20 of the Dao De Jing. The Guangshengyi draws out, line by line, its principles for governance and self-cultivation.

A Plain-Language Interpretation of the Scripture

Confucius said: “The highest Dao is dim and silent.” “Dim” means keeping one’s light concealed and turning inward; “silent” means not speaking much.

Suddenly, it seems dark and still, as though there were nowhere to remain.

Note: One’s appearance seems dim, while the heart is quiet. One cuts off worldly learning and seems to cling to nothing or remain nowhere.

Commentary: A person who has cut off learning is untroubled and without intention, often seeming dull, while the heart remains quiet. Such a person is never stained by attachment to teachings. Because they “abide nowhere,” they seem to have nowhere to settle.

Meaning: “Dim” and “dark” mean obscure; “still” means empty and quiet. Having cut off worldly learning, one does not boast of cleverness, cling to purposeful action, or abide by teachings. One does not stop at “being” or become trapped in “nonbeing.” Forgetting both emptiness and existence, one penetrates deeply into the mysterious essence.

Scripture: Everyone has something they rely on.

Note: People in the world all have thoughts that lead them to chase after external circumstances and become immersed in worldly learning.

Scripture: I alone am dull and seem uncultivated.

Note: “Dull” means making no distinctions; “uncultivated” means crude and deficient. Outwardly, one seems deficient, but inwardly one has understood. That is why the text says “seem.”

Commentary: Ordinary people do not turn away from worldly learning. They are constantly caught up in it and chase after external circumstances without ever resting. I alone, among people in the world, make no distinctions and appear uncultivated. “Dull” means making no distinctions; “uncultivated” means crude and deficient. Yet the heart has truly understood, which is why the text says “seem.” From “The multitude bustle about” onward, each passage clarifies its point by contrasting it with what came before.

Meaning: People in the world act according to conventional ways and cling to purposeful action. Hence the phrase “everyone has something they rely on”—here, “rely on” means “do.” Laozi inwardly understands the myriad things and penetrates deeply into the source of the Dao, while outwardly appearing dim and foolish, as if dull and uncultivated. The later scripture says, “All under Heaven say that my Dao is great, yet seems unlike anything; if it resembled anything, it would long ago have become small.” This expresses the same idea. The six passages beginning with “The multitude bustle about” describe the conduct of sages in contrast with worldly learning. They show why worldly learning must be abandoned and the Great Dao taken as one’s root.

Scripture: I alone am different from other people.

Note: People have desires and feelings; I have no attachment or defilement. People turn away from the Dao; I am one with the Dao.

Scripture: And prize seeking nourishment from the Mother.

Note: To “seek nourishment from the Mother” is to prize being without striving desires, like an infant. The earlier passage says, “like an infant before it can smile”; a later scripture says, “One rich in De is like a newborn child.” This is why I alone am different from other people. The word “seek” was not present in the original text and has been added here. Moreover, sages who spoke the scriptures did not originally avoid taboo characters; the present wording… (This is a textual-critical note, broadly indicating that later writers added characters or changed them to avoid taboos.)

Overall explanation for ease of reading:

This passage contrasts the sage—Laozi, or the perfected person—with ordinary people. Ordinary people are clever and driven by purposeful action, chasing after external circumstances. The sage, by contrast, is dim and silent, seeming dull and uncultivated, yet is truly one with the Dao. The sage’s heart is like that of an infant: free of worldly learning and attached neither to being nor to nonbeing. Thus, “I alone am different from other people,” and the sage prizes “seeking nourishment from the Mother”—preserving one’s root and living without striving. This is a broad interpretation of the themes found in chapters of the Dao De Jing such as “Cut off learning, and you will be free of worry” and “The multitude bustle about, while I alone seem to have been left behind.”

The Broad Interpretation of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue

(Note on the style of commentary)

If later expressions are used directly in place of the teachings of the ancients, readers may suspect that the original meaning has been altered. To explain the principles fully, the meaning—the interpretive explanation—must not be shifted about at will. When writing commentary on the scripture, the divisions and tone of each sentence should be steady and easy to follow. These commentaries preserve the ancient text while also clarifying it, in the hope that readers may draw closer to the ancients’ original meaning. Sima Qian, author of the Records of the Grand Historian, said that Laozi (the Old Master) left behind more than five thousand characters of teaching, continuing until the principles had been fully expressed. There is no need to treat “exactly five thousand characters” as a fixed count.

Commentary (clarification)

These two sentences bring the preceding passage to a close. “I alone am different from others” means that I differ from ordinary people who refuse to set aside worldly learning. It refers to the contrast with ordinary people in the series of comparisons above.

Ordinary people are absorbed in desire and act on everything; I try to set desire aside. They sharply distinguish good from bad, right from wrong, in all kinds of things; I try to regard things equally and not judge people by right and wrong. That is why the text says, “different from others.”

Interpretive explanation

The two words “abandon learning” at the beginning of the chapter are followed by eleven contrasts, lest readers fail to grasp their meaning at once:

“Abandon learning and be free of worry”: set aside worldly learning and worries diminish; cling to it, and worries multiply.

“Sincerity makes reverence and frugality good; flattery makes arrogance and extravagance bad”: sincerity leads to respectful restraint and simplicity, which are good; flattery leads to arrogance, which is bad.

“People esteem good and hate evil”: people favor what is good and dislike what is evil.

“Others enjoy lavish feasts and springtime outings, while I keep to simplicity and the ways of an infant”: others pursue grand banquets and pleasure outings; I remain plain and quiet, like an infant.

“Others have something they pursue, while I have nowhere I am bound”: others pursue a clear goal; I cling to no fixed destination.

“Others boast of their abundance, while I seem to have forgotten everything”: others flaunt their wealth; I seem to have forgotten what I possess.

“Ordinary people shine brightly with their cleverness, while I seem dim and obscure”: ordinary people display their intelligence; I appear uncomprehending.

“Ordinary people scrutinize everything and lay down laws, while I am quiet, broad-minded, and forgiving”: ordinary people make exacting rules; I remain generous and reserved.

“Others have something they hold to, while I cling to nothing”: others have something they insist on keeping; I remain attached to nothing.

“Everyone else acts with purpose, while I seem to have nothing”: others strive to accomplish things; I seem to have too little and contend for nothing.

“Others are absorbed in the taste of honor and glory, while I take in primordial harmony”: others crave the pleasures of wealth and status; I keep to primordial Qi (vital energy), the vital energy inherent in life.

These eleven points contrast worldly learning with the Dao. They explain that worldly “learning” can be set aside and that the Dao of Wuwei (non-action) is worth cultivating. Thus the commentary says that others are attached to desire, while I alone forget desire; others make distinctions among all things, while I alone do not judge people by right and wrong. This is what it means to be “different from others.”

Commentary

The Old Master instructs the world to keep to simplicity, preserve complete harmony, and reduce selfishness and desire. He urges people to break free from enticements that ensnare the eyes and ears and to block the race for fame and profit, so that they may be like infants, knowing only to seek nourishment from the “mother” and remaining free of other distractions. Hence the passage below says, “and cherish seeking food from the mother.”

Interpretive explanation

To be like an infant is to have a mind undisturbed by external things, knowing only to seek milk from its mother and free from the burdens of rivalry. This is one interpretation of the sage’s intention. On closer examination, the “mother” may refer to Qi: people receive the forms of Heaven and Earth and are born through Qi, which is the root that nourishes life. What the infant seeks is this original nourishment, not fame, profit, sensory pleasures, or display.

《A Vernacular Interpretation of the Extended Meaning of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue》

It is called “Mother” because nurturing and giving life express the Dao’s fundamental function. The chapters in all eleven sections teach that single-mindedly pursuing action, contrivance, and the learning of worldly affairs does nothing to aid bodily cultivation. Those who study the Dao should cast all of this aside and follow a path unlike the worldly one. That is why Laozi says, “I alone am different from other people.”

Once worldly learning has been left behind, what remains in cultivation is nourishing Qi, taking harmonious Qi as one’s sustenance, and returning to the root and restoring one’s life. This is the proper method to follow. The Huangting Jing says: “Others eat the five grains and the five flavors; I eat the Yin-Yang Qi of Great Harmony.” It also says: “The five grains are the essence of the earth. Though the five flavors are delicious, they are tainted with the stench of demons and disturb the spirit. When the Qi within the womb has scattered, how can one return to youth and infancy? Why not take in the Qi of Great Harmony? Then one can enter the Yellow Court without dying.” Likewise, the Jiayu says: “Those who consume Qi become spiritually luminous and live long.” There is no doubt about this principle.

In general, governing the country means maintaining stillness and silence, and removing extravagance, lust, and harsh rule. The ruler should hold fast to the Dao and live simply, like a quail; officials should esteem De and spread the Great Dao. The preceding discussion concerns the essentials of cultivating oneself; this one concerns the way to govern the country.