《道德真經廣聖義》Vol. 30

The Broadly Expounded Meaning of the True Scripture of the Way and its Virtue, Scroll Twenty-Nine (Excerpt): A Plain-Language Interpretation

Classic: The Broadly Expounded Meaning of the True Scripture of the Way and its Virtue

Author: By Master Guangcheng of the Tang, Du Guangting

Chapter 36, “If You Would Draw Something In” (Commentary and Meaning)

[Commentary] The previous chapter discussed putting the Dao into practice to guide and transform the people. This chapter explains how the Dao employs expedient power in governing a state: returning to what is past—that is, returning to one’s original nature—means settling into peace and equanimity; sharp instruments—that is, techniques of power and decisive methods—must not be shown lightly. It first sets out the expedient alternation of drawing in and extending outward, then shows the way of softness and weakness, and finally concludes with the image of fish in the deep, revealing the profound meaning of the Dao of expediency.

[Meaning] The Dao nurtures all things and responds to change as it arises. In ancient times, rulers took the Dao as their charge, ministers took De as their wealth, and the people found wholeness in harmony. Thus the Dao could not be seen or heard, and its workings could never be exhausted. But as generations grew shallow and customs shifted and became corrupted, the mysterious became hard to understand, and the rarefied and elusive—without sound or form—became hard to fathom. If one wished to return all at once to simplicity and eliminate such decline, the highest sound, the most fundamental resonance of the Dao, was silent and distant, and could only be sought far away. The sages taught by holding, on Heaven’s behalf, the power to adapt to changing circumstances. They showed the way of drawing in and opening out—first gathering in, then releasing; advancing by retreating—to curb deceit. They used reversal and granting, abolition and revival—such as giving first in order to take, or reviving first in order to abolish—to restrain what was crooked and deviant. In this way, the deceitful could return to loyalty and goodness, and the crooked could return to uprightness. Understanding this expedient method, one sees that although it is not the fundamental essence of the highest principle, it is a means of assisting governance. It is therefore called a sharp instrument of the state. Those who wield such instruments must act as in warfare: they use them only when there is no alternative, and still must make softness and weakness their way of acting, and subtle insight their point of strategy. They must not reveal the mechanisms of power to the wrong people. This is like fish, which cannot leave the water: if fish leave the water, they die; if people lose their strategic advantage, they fail. The Book of the Plain says, “Those whose secret schemes are exposed will fail.” The Classic of Changes says, “If the mechanism is not kept secret, it will bring harm to oneself.” This is what those sayings mean.

Scripture

If you would draw something in, you must first let it expand. If you would weaken something, you must first let it grow strong. If you would abolish something, you must first let it flourish. If you would take something away, you must first give it.

[Commentary] “Draw in” means to gather and restrain. Here the passage explains how sages use the Dao of expediency to guide and transform living beings. People differ in whether their capacities are dull or sharp, so teachings differ between expedient means and the constant teaching. Sages assess the capacities of living beings and use expedient and constant teachings, reversal and return, to illuminate one another. With those of sharp capacity, they offer a brief indication of the skillful means: such people turn toward good when they see it and correct themselves when they have erred, while deeply understanding the roots of their nature.

Interpretation: The sages established teachings and divided them into two approaches: the provisional and the true. Those of the highest capacity can directly awaken to the true teaching; those of middling or lesser capacity must first be shown the provisional approach. There are many ways to adapt the provisional approach. As the scriptures classify them, they fall broadly into four methods.

“Capacity” refers to the roots of wisdom. The true, original nature of the Dao with which people are endowed can give rise to many kinds of wisdom, just as the roots of plants produce flowers and fruit, which in turn give rise to more growth. Hence the term “roots.” Nature gives rise to wisdom in the same way. The nature with which people are endowed comes from Qi (vital energy), which may be clear or turbid; accordingly, people’s capacities may be keen or dull. Those endowed with clear, harmonious Qi are often quick-witted and intelligent, able to understand the past and the present, and to infer ten things from one. With their keen capacity, they understand things fully and clearly: they advance when the way is open and withdraw when they see difficulty; they pursue goodness as if they could not keep up, and avoid evil as if reaching into boiling water. Thus they can turn toward goodness and correct their faults. They understand expedient methods and know the way forward, so they need no inducement through provisional means to reach the true teaching.

The “four approaches” are: gather in, weaken, abolish, and take away. To gather something in, first let it spread out; to weaken something, first let it grow strong; to abolish something, first let it flourish; to take something away, first give it.

Explanation: Beings with dull capacities have long been clouded and obstructed. Unless they are guided through provisional means, they cannot be brought to return to the Way. So, if one wishes to gather in their desires, one first lets their extravagant impulses expand to the utmost, until they become trapped by their own attachments; then they will gather themselves in. The same principle applies to weakening and the other methods. Applied in this way, the teaching will be believed. At first hearing, these words may seem contrary to the meaning of the Dao De Jing. Only after penetrating deeply into the utmost mystery does one understand why the provisional and the true are both used. Thus the commentary says: “When a noble person uses provisional means, what matters is that they accord with what is right; petty people use them for deceit and trickery.” The text later says that these methods must not be shown to others precisely because the provisional approach is difficult to use.

Interpretation: Those of dull capacity, endowed with turbid and mixed Qi, are stubborn and slow; their understanding is blocked, so they cannot distinguish right from wrong, much less good from evil. Some may be greedy by nature and cruel, indulging their desires and passions until they repeatedly fall into the snares of wrongdoing and become forever estranged from the human realm. The sages are always skilled at saving beings. Taking compassion on all who are alive, they show them the provisional approach so they may awaken for themselves. Thus the sages use four provisional methods to guide and transform them: first, to gather something in, one must first let it spread out—this guides the mind. Second, to weaken something, one must first let it grow strong—this guides one’s nature. Third, to abolish something, one must first let it flourish. Fourth, to take something away, one must first give it. (The last two methods follow the same logic in the text: provisional means are adapted to counter each situation, so that those of dull capacity may reflect and awaken for themselves.)

Broad Commentary on the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue: A Plain-Language Reading

This section continues from the previous chapter. It discusses Laozi’s “to contract something, you must first let it expand,” “to weaken something, you must first let it grow strong,” “to abolish something, you must first let it flourish,” and “to take something away, you must first give it”—expedient methods, or skillful means—and explains the meaning of “this is called subtle illumination.”

“To take something away, you must first give it fully”—curbing greed

“Those who would take something away must first give it fully”: To help someone let go of greed, one often first lets them have their fill and indulge to the utmost. This is called “gathering in greed”—using fullness to contain greed.

When the mind becomes extravagant and unrestrained, it easily gives rise to mistakes. Once someone has felt the pain those mistakes bring, they may come to value restraint, frugality, and knowing their place. This is one expedient way to rein in the mind’s desires.

“To weaken something, you must first let it grow strong”—tempering excessive hardness

When one’s nature is yielding, De (Virtue/Power) remains whole; when it is forceful, trouble arises. A temperament that is too hard and contentious often brings calamity. Only after suffering a setback may someone wish to return to gentleness and yielding. This is the expedient method of subduing one’s nature and tempering what is strong.

Few desires and many desires—abandoning desire to clear the spirit

With few desires, one’s conduct is clear; with many desires, Shen (spirit) becomes clouded. When desire grows too deep and the spirit too muddied, a person may reach a point where they turn back of their own accord and seek stillness. This is the expedient method of abandoning desire and clearing the spirit.

Without greed, one lives simply and frugally; extreme greed brings calamity upon oneself. After suffering because of greed, one may return to frugality. This is the expedient method of cultivating simplicity and curbing greed.

The passages above follow the same logic: first allow desire, forcefulness, and greed to reach their limits and bring a person to hardship. Let them awaken through their own entanglement in desire, error, and calamity; then they can return to their nature and cultivate the Dao. At first hearing, this may seem at odds with Laozi’s idea of “Wuwei (non-action), through which things transform themselves.” But people differ in their capacities, and awakening may be sudden or gradual. Those who awaken suddenly need not rely on these expedient methods; those who cultivate gradually need skillful guidance.

This is why there is a distinction between the expedient and the essential. The expedient method guides people until they finally accord with the meaning of the Great Dao; hence the saying that what matters is “accordance with what is right.” If petty people manipulate expedient methods, they become deceitful. So such methods should not be casually taught to those who are not aligned with the Dao. The Analects says, “You may help someone take a stand, but not yet help them exercise expediency”—using expedient means is difficult. The Scripture of the Hidden Tally says that when a noble person attains this understanding, they can endure hardship and accept their lot, while a petty person who attains it takes life lightly and acts recklessly. This points to the same idea.

“This is called subtle illumination”

Commentaries on the scripture cite “straight words seem contrary” and the Book of Changes saying, “Yielding in order to exercise expediency.” An expedient method runs counter to ordinary norms while accord­ing with what is right. A noble person’s use of such methods must accord with what is right; a petty person’s use becomes deceit.

Confucius said that one may help someone take a stand, but not yet help them exercise expediency. In the previous chapter, Lao Jun therefore showed the essential through “holding to the Great Image”; in this chapter, he follows with contracting and expanding, and the like, to show the expedient. One must assess the capacities of living beings and let the essential and the expedient illuminate one another through their reversals, so that people may reach the ground of nature and life. Yet the confused claim that this is not the true intent of the Dao and its Virtue. How deeply mistaken they are, and how far from awakening!

Thus, to rein in the desires and emotions of living beings, one first lets them expand and allows their extravagant impulses to run their course, until they become trapped in desire. Only then can they contract and draw back. The teachings on strength and weakness follow much the same principle. This method is extremely subtle, yet its effects are plain to see. Hence the phrase, “This is called subtle illumination.”

The subcommentary says: Expedient methods are used to guide and transform living beings, and their principles are exceedingly subtle. Yet when we examine the effects they produce, those effects are clear and evident. Hence this is called “subtle illumination.”

The explanation says: Expedient methods are subtle in principle, but their application is clear. Their results, when assessed, are manifest. “Manifest” means clear and evident. The sage keeps the uppermost in wisdom constantly in mind, while those people rest their minds in the dark and mysterious, acting through Wuwei (non-action) and silently merging with the supreme Dao (the Way). Why, then, would the teachings of expedience and truth need to be put into practice? Expedient teachings are established only for people of middling or lesser ability. This is like the use of military force. The wise defeat the enemy’s plans; they need not raise an army to overcome the enemy, but can secure victory through quiet deliberation, prevailing thousands of miles away. Those of lesser wisdom do not understand how to adapt to changing circumstances. They must wait until the two armies clash, when the outcome is decided by blows to the neck and head or the cutting open of livers and lungs. Only then do they grasp the balance of victory and defeat and discuss whether to advance or retreat. Since they are so unaware of how to adapt, they must be shown expedient methods. To use expedience to guide people toward what is right is to leave no one behind. The meaning of “With compliance, one can exercise expedience” and “one may stand firm with them” has been explained elsewhere.

The soft and weak overcome the hard and strong

The note says: By being compliant, one can exercise expedience; once expedience is put into practice, it can restrain external things. Thus we know that the soft and weak can overcome the hard and strong.

The subcommentary says: The Book of Changes states, “With compliance, one can exercise expedience.” This explains that the Xun hexagram represents humility and compliance, which make it possible to follow the Way of expedience. Thus, if one wants to restrain something, one first allows it to expand; if one wants to weaken something, one first allows it to grow strong. In the end, it is made to contract and weaken. This is how the way of the soft can overcome the hard. Hence it is said that the soft overcomes the hard and the weak overcomes the strong.

The explanation says: The “Lower Commentary” of the Book of Changes states, “With compliance, one can exercise expedience.” Xun means compliance: only by responding appropriately to the moment can one exercise expedience. If one cannot adapt to the moment and manage change, expedience cannot be put into practice. Xun means ordering and compliance. It occupies the southeast, where spring meets summer; the Dipper’s handle points southeast, and all things are nourished and brought into order. Xun governs the proclamation of commands that set out rules and laws, which is why it is said, “Xun is the virtue of regulation.” Xun also governs the wind. The commands of rulers, like the wind, spread their transformative influence. They can proclaim commands without displaying or boasting of themselves; hence it is said, “Xun is praised yet remains hidden.” From this, we can see that Xun embodies four virtues: softness and compliance, nourishment, order, and hiddenness without self-display. It can also issue commands, respond to change, and act appropriately to circumstances. Only then can one follow the Way of expedience. Expedient methods should not be adopted lightly. When they accord with what is right, they can transform evil into good, strengthen the state, and benefit the people.

Plain-Language Interpretation

Those who rely on force harm people’s nature and injure their bodies, and in the end become deceitful.

When a ruler uses harsh methods to discipline violent people, he often ends up harming their nature and injuring himself. In the end, both sides resort to schemes and deceive one another.

When a ruler governs violent and wicked people, he may use authority and adaptability to restrain them. Yet he should also remain gentle and modest, showing them humility and harmony; then even the strong-willed will follow this gentle De.

To govern people who are wicked and hard to tame, a ruler may indeed rely on authority and flexibility to keep them in check. But in ordinary times he should also hold to gentleness and humility. Then even the strong-willed will turn to follow this gentle De.

Fish cannot be separated from the depths; a state’s sharp instruments must not be shown to others.

Fish cannot survive outside deep waters. A state’s “sharp instruments”—its techniques of power and confidential methods—must not be casually revealed to outsiders.

Commentary: “Separated” means “lost.” “Sharp instruments” means the methods of power.

The commentary explains that “separated” means “lost,” and that “sharp instruments” refers to the methods by which power is exercised.

This says that the methods of power must not be revealed to those who are unfit to know them. So the text offers this comparison: once a fish loses the water, people can catch it; if the methods of power are exposed to the wrong people, petty men may steal them and use them to deceive and scheme.

The point is that the methods of power must not be entrusted to the wrong people. A fish that leaves the water can be caught; similarly, if these methods are shown to those who should not see them, petty men may seize them and turn them into tools of deception and trickery.

Explanatory commentary: “Separated” means “lost.” “Sharp instruments” means the methods of power. A fish in water is like a ruler holding authority. When a fish loses the water, people catch it; when the methods of power are carelessly shown to the wrong people, petty men steal and misuse them for deceitful schemes.

The explanatory commentary repeats and expands the point: a fish in water is like a ruler who holds authority. A fish that loses the water is caught; likewise, if the methods of power are entrusted to the wrong people, petty men may steal and misuse them for deceitful schemes.

The meaning is this: a fish living in the depths dies when it loses the water and lives when it has water. Likewise, when a ruler uses the methods of power, things go well if the right people are entrusted with them, and badly if they are entrusted to the wrong people.

In principle, a fish in the depths dies without water and lives with it. Similarly, when a ruler exercises power, the outcome is good if he entrusts it to the right people, and disastrous if he entrusts it to the wrong ones.

A fish that can dive into deep pools, hide in vast waters, and resist the bait and hook need not fear losing its water.

If a fish can dive deep, hide in the waters, and refuse to take the bait or bite the hook, it need not fear being separated from the water.

If a ruler can appoint the worthy and entrust matters to the loyal and upright, while rejecting the wicked and blocking crooked ways, he need not fear losing his authority.

A ruler who appoints worthy people and entrusts responsibilities to the loyal and upright, while rejecting the corrupt and blocking crooked practices, need not lament the loss of his authority.

When a fish loses the water, people catch it; when a ruler loses authority, petty men gain power.

A fish that loses the water is caught; a ruler who loses authority lets petty men prevail.

Those who steal a ruler’s methods of power and toy with them will turn right into wrong and good into evil, indulging their treachery and cruelty.

People who seize a ruler’s methods of power and misuse them often turn right and wrong upside down, treating evil as good and giving free rein to treachery and cruelty.

Thus Shuniu deposed the rightful heir and installed a junior son, bringing ruin upon the household of Muzi; Zhao Gao persecuted the upright and harmed the loyal, destroying the enterprise founded by the Qin First Emperor.

For example, Shuniu deposed the rightful heir and installed a junior son, bringing down the household of Muzi (Shusun Muzi, a high official of Lu). Zhao Gao persecuted the upright and harmed loyal officials, destroying the enterprise founded by the First Emperor of Qin.

The people suffered, resented their ruler, and scattered; the state was imperiled, beyond saving.

The people endured calamity and grew resentful of their ruler. Their hearts turned away, the state was put in danger, and recovery often became impossible.

The Shuowen says: “Deceit” means “to cheat.” “Trickery” means using falsehoods to deceive the world.

The Shuowen says that “deceit” means cheating, while “trickery” means misleading the world with falsehoods.

An example of trickery: In the Spring and Autumn period, Duke Wen of Jin deliberately provoked Chu into war. He then seized the ruler of Cao and humiliated Song, and Chu duly attacked Song. Duke Wen then fought Chu again and defeated its army. Later, at Heyang, he summoned King Xiang of Zhou and had the feudal lords come to pay their respects. He also claimed that the king was out hunting. In this way, he gathered the lords and made a show of honoring the Son of Heaven, while in truth he was too powerful to dare appear at the Zhou court. By claiming that the king was on a hunt, he was able to perform the rites between ruler and subjects. These were all acts of manipulation, contrary to the proper way.

One example of “trickery” comes from the Spring and Autumn period. Duke Wen of Jin deliberately provoked Chu into war, then seized the ruler of Cao and humiliated Song. Chu duly attacked Song. Duke Wen fought Chu again, and Chu’s army was defeated. Later, at Heyang, he summoned King Xiang of Zhou and had the feudal lords come to meet him, claiming that the Son of Heaven was out hunting. He thus convened the lords under the pretense of honoring the king. In reality, he considered himself too powerful to attend the Zhou court, and used the claim that the king was hunting as a pretext to perform the rites between ruler and subject. These were all manipulative acts that departed from the proper way.

Confucius said: “For a subject to summon his ruler is not something that can be held up as a model.”

A Plain Language Interpretation

The book records that the Heavenly King went hunting at Heyang, an ancient place-name in the area of present-day Meng County, Henan. This was not a suitable place for such a hunt. If even this was called deceitful and mistaken, how much more should treacherous ministers and petty men who seize power and deceive their ruler be on their guard and come to regret their actions?

Those who cultivate the Dao should set their hearts right within and their conduct right without, making their inner and outer selves one, upright and free of evil. Only then, when they focus their minds on a single thought, can they clearly commune with the true spirits. If their words and actions contradict each other and they are crooked rather than upright, then even if they bend and stretch, bow and rise, and carefully arrange their outward appearance, it will be of no real benefit.

On Chapter Thirty-Seven of the Dao De Jing: “The Dao Always Acts Without Action”

(The commentary explains: The previous chapter clarified the Dao, or showed how expedient methods may be used to guide people. This chapter makes clear that such methods must accord with what is right, and that one should use the “Uncarved Simplicity” of the Nameless to bring things to rest. The Dao is originally without action; when rulers and lords uphold it, all things transform of themselves. The Uncarved Simplicity does not seek to make the world quiet so that it may purify itself. Lao Jun therefore speaks to make this clear: teaching without words, he seeks to set teaching aside. For this reason, at the end of the upper part of the text, he develops this chapter, hoping to convey the idea of forgetting both sides to those who attain profound understanding.)

The meaning is this: A ruler governs the world by using direct instruction to guide the noble and expedient instruction to bring petty people into line. He gathers both kinds of teaching under the Dao of Wuwei (non-action), making this the foundation for transforming the people. Direct instruction means that rulers act as rulers, ministers as ministers, fathers as fathers, and sons as sons; ritual, music, benevolence, and trust are used to set the world in order. The ruler and the noble follow and practice these principles, establishing a model for all under Heaven. Petty people cannot draw near to benevolence and righteousness; if they retreat, they are liable to fall into the reach of the law. If they are not guided by expedient methods to leave evil and turn toward good, they will be lost, which is to abandon them. Lao Jun says, “No person is abandoned.” He therefore establishes expedient ways of teaching so that they too may return to goodness. In this way, all under Heaven are helped, and all may return to the Uncarved Simplicity. The Uncarved Simplicity is the wondrous source of the Dao. When rulers and lords uphold and apply it, all things transform of themselves. If they wish to change anything, they should always bring it to rest through Wuwei; then the world will be calm and rightly ordered.

For those who cultivate the Dao: Because the Sage understood that profound practice is difficult to sustain and worldly desires are easy to lose oneself in, he established rules, precepts, and ritual forms to regulate outward conduct; methods for focusing attention and gathering the spirit to set the heart right; techniques for refining Qi and nourishing the embryonic origin to govern one’s food and flavors; and rites of prayer, communion with the true, and thanksgiving to cleanse one’s faults. One then proceeds toward the path of “learning what cannot be learned” and reaches the state of dwelling in stillness and letting the spirit abide in the depths of mystery.

Cultivation consists in continually reducing artificial contrivance until one aligns with wuwei (non-action); then perverse and deviant tendencies have no opening, the inner mind stays settled and clear, and one can reach a state of plainness and harmony.

The Dao constantly accords with what is natural; it does not force outcomes, yet nothing fails to be accomplished.

Commentary: The Dao’s nature is clear and still; its subtle root is deep, limpid, and at rest—therefore it is constantly without deliberate action. The myriad things rely on the Dao to grow; when there is resonance, the Dao necessarily responds—therefore it also does nothing that is not done. When one insists on deliberate doing, there will be what cannot be done; hence wuwei can accomplish all that needs doing.

Exegesis: The Dao’s nature is pure and without admixture, silent and without noise—therefore clear and still. It is unfathomable, like clear spring water, deep and tranquil. Not moving rashly in stillness is wuwei; responding through resonance and communion is “doing all.” Wuwei is the substance of the subtle root; “doing all” is its function. Substance and function complete each other, and the transformations of the myriad things arise from this.

If one knocks upon the Dao yet receives no answer, calls and gets no response, and it remains silent without form, unable to generate the myriad things—what use would such wuwei be for subtle transformation and nurture? Conversely, if cycles never cease and activity never rests—busy, toiling without result, with no time for peace—that is deliberate contrivance; how could one obtain rest? One should hold to wuwei even when acting, to restrain rash movement; and allow appropriate action even in wuwei, to modulate deep stillness. Only by never straying from the correct path and never lingering in what is crooked can one speak of the root of clarity and stillness.

If lords and kings can hold fast to the Dao, the myriad things will naturally be transformed and nurtured.

Annotation: The subtle root is clear and still, therefore constantly wuwei; the myriad things rely on it to live, therefore it also does all. If lords and kings can keep the Dao and practice wuwei, the myriad things will change of themselves. When the ruler is without contrivance, the people return to simplicity.

Commentary: If lords and kings can keep the Dao—clear, still, and wuwei, not disturbing the people—the myriad things will be moved by that influence. The people, imitating the ruler’s good transformation, return to plainness.

Exegesis: Whether a king governs the realm or a feudal lord governs a state, if each practices the way of wuwei and moves the myriad things through clarity and stillness, then below the myriad things change naturally while above the lord or king remains quiet—this may be called the highest reach of governance. Change only after teaching is change through following instruction; change without teaching is the myriad things changing by themselves. The former is transforming the myriad things through deliberate action; the latter is reaching the effect of teaching through wuwei, so that the myriad things naturally arrive at transformation. After the myriad things have been transformed, if desire and rash movement arise again, I use nameless pu (the un carved simplicity that has not been shaped by human artifice) to settle them.

General Meaning of the Scripture

Original: Whenever people want to act recklessly and pursue misguided courses, I use the “Uncarved Block without a Name” to settle them and bring them to stillness.

Commentary: The “Uncarved Block without a Name” is the Dao (the Way). Here, “I” refers to the ruler speaking of himself. The people have received good instruction, and the ruler’s De (Virtue/Power) is characterized by Wuwei (non-action) and stillness. If, stirred by external circumstances, they nevertheless wish to act recklessly, the ruler uses the Dao’s essential nature—the utmost simplicity, without form or name—to quiet their hearts, preventing restless action and keeping them aligned with the Dao’s stillness.

Interpretation: Governing and Self-Cultivation

Governing: When the Dao is put into practice, it acquires a name and can be called “a provisional name.” When its outward traces are gathered back in, it returns to the uncarved block, which is nameless by nature. The ruler transforms the people through the Dao, and they become still through this influence. If other circumstances provoke them and human desires lead them to act recklessly, the ruler still uses the Uncarved Block without a Name to quiet their hearts, so they do not act rashly and remain in accord with the stillness of the Dao’s influence.

Self-cultivation: As people cultivate the Dao, their hearts grow integrated and their spirits still; they have already attained a state of resonance. Yet the dust of the world may stir reckless impulses, or distracting thoughts may arise suddenly. One may be about to transcend the path of agitation and rivalry, or become mired in a realm of contention over right and wrong. One should promptly enter a quiet room, contemplate the mysterious and attend to the true, and use the Dao of Wuwei to settle the mind and spirit and restrain delusive thoughts, as turbid water gradually clears. Then the Three Corpses—internal corpse spirits that cause trouble, a metaphor for greed and other desires—cannot interfere; the hundred evils cannot disturb; and demonic trials all subside. One can then reach the stage of emptiness.

The Passage on “Having No Desire”

Original: The Uncarved Block without a Name, too, should be approached with “no desire.”

Commentary: Above, it says that when people’s desires make them act recklessly, the ruler quiets them with the Uncarved Block without a Name. Here, it says that one must also have “no desire” toward that Uncarved Block itself. To quiet people’s restless desires, one uses the Uncarved Block without a Name. But if one becomes attached to “namelessness” and turns it into another outward trace, people will follow the trace and lose its source, returning to deliberate action. That would be no different from the desires one seeks to quiet.

Interpretation: Once the people have been transformed by stillness, they may again act recklessly and deliberately. Repeated practice turns this into a habit: the longer they remain lost in it, the more readily the water grows turbid, their nature becomes clouded, their hearts are stirred, and their resolve weakens. The ruler should quiet them with the uncarved simplicity of the wondrous source. Once they are still, the ruler should also let go of attachment and allow all things to dissolve into silence. Then, in profound stillness, one attains mysterious communion and penetrates the true and wondrous. The people are kept from clinging to outward traces, and the sage does not cling to them either.

Brief notes on technical terms: The Uncarved Block without a Name is the essential nature of the Dao, without form or name and untouched by carving or shaping. The Three Corpses are spirits said in Daoism to dwell in three places within the human body and to encourage indulgence and confusion; practitioners must restrain them.

Commentary: Therefore, “the nameless uncarved block” is first used to quiet and settle the desires of all beings. Once their desires have been removed, the sage lets go even of “the nameless.” It is like taking medicine to cure an illness: when the illness is gone, one forgets the medicine. Or like crossing a river by boat: once across, one forgets the boat. If someone clings to the boat after crossing, or tastes the medicine again after recovering, they will not reach the far shore and may bring trouble upon themselves.

Meaning: Once people’s minds have been quieted and even “the nameless” can be let go, this is like forgetting the boat after crossing a river and forgetting the medicine after recovering from illness. One may say that this conveys the essential principle of true cultivation. The boat and the medicine both stand for the teachings. Beings are confused within the worldly web of samsara. They gradually become stained by distinctions between “being” and “nonbeing,” entangled by the Six Dusts and beset by countless afflictions, as though they were ill. The Venerable Lord expounds the Dao of Wuwei and describes its vast power to save. He offers this true scripture as medicine for the illness. Through the scripture, people awaken and their confusion naturally falls away; inner stains are washed clean, external entanglements are severed, and once long-standing afflictions are healed, the worldly web is cast off. At that point, one must also set aside the teachings and forget their words, merging with the Dao.

There is another image: the countless afflictions of the world and the cycle of birth and death are like a vast sea in which beings drown. Their true nature drifts and sinks, following each passing circumstance and rising with every wave, with no way to cross beyond. The Venerable Lord uses the scripture’s profound principles to govern the state and aid its people, rescuing all beings from the sea of worry and desire. They are saved through the scripture, like passengers in a great boat cutting across a swift current and reaching the far shore. Waves of desire can no longer shake their nature; waves of attachment can no longer drown their hearts. They leave the realm of accumulated suffering and enter the domain of long life. Once across, they should forget the boat that carried them and relinquish the practice they have clung to. They should rest their spirit in the realm of nothingness and let their minds wander in the land of self-sufficiency. Only then can it be said that they are empty yet preserve the true, pure yet able to contain all things: human in appearance, heavenly in nature, yielding to all things, and guided solely by what is natural. If they still cling to the boat they boarded or the medicine they took, they will fail to reach their goal and bring trouble upon themselves. Is this merely empty talk?

Note: After a ruler has used the nameless uncarved block to calm the people, he must not cling to “the nameless” and leave traces behind. Otherwise, people may follow those traces and lose the root, falling once more into purposeful action. So he must also forget the nameless uncarved block, desire nothing as an object of desire, and the world will naturally return to the right Dao.

Plain-Language Interpretation

The Main Point of the Scripture

Let go even of the thought, “I do not want to have desires.” When the heart is calm, detached, and still, the world will naturally return to the right way.

Commentary (Clarifying the Scripture’s Meaning)

Once the “uncarved simplicity without a name”—the original state not yet stained by names, appearances, or desires—has reached “having no desires,” one must also forget the deliberate intention, “I will have no desires.” In this way, one becomes detached and still. This means fully transcending both sides of being and nonbeing. The ruler governs from above through Wuwei (non-action), while the people below follow their own nature and develop accordingly. There is no need to issue many ordinances: the world will become orderly and peaceful. Thus the scripture says, “The world will set itself right.”

Further Elucidation

Once the deluded, restless minds of living beings have grown still, one must also forget comparisons such as whether to discard the boat after crossing the river or stop taking medicine after recovering from illness. Then one dispels even the “uncarved simplicity without a name,” and completely forgets even the “desire not to desire.” One then moves freely between being and nonbeing, open and unconfined.

When the ruler is above, the world trusts him without his speaking. When the people are below, they act on their own without deliberate instruction. Trust without speaking is “ruling from above through Wuwei”; putting things into practice naturally, without forced instruction, is “guiding from below by allowing people to follow their nature.” Once governance has reached this point, what need is there for cumbersome commands? The world will be orderly and peaceful, and can return to the Dao of high antiquity.

In Terms of Self-Cultivation

Through instruction, one comes to understand the Great Dao; after awakening to the Dao, one lets go even of words. One does not act for empty reputation, and so harbors no resentment; one does not act for private gain, and so incurs no harm. One regulates the workings of the heart and its likes and dislikes, allowing one’s nature and feelings to each find their proper place. One is not confused by fortune or misfortune and does not give rise to anger or joy without cause. Mingling with the Great Dao in profound accord, one forgets what one has learned and releases what one clings to. The heart is still; Shen (spirit) manifests outwardly. One cultivates without cultivation, learns without learning, and attains without attainment. This may be called understanding the profound mysteries of the True Scripture and glimpsing the innermost hall of the Great Sage’s Way.

The upper scripture takes Heaven as its model, and therefore has thirty-seven chapters, an odd number. This chapter stands at the end and once again reveals the wondrous workings of the Supreme Dao, while earnestly admonishing rulers and lords: by understanding these subtle words, one may reach full realization.

Note: This passage is an interpretation by the Northern Song Daoist Chen Jingyuan in his Guang Sheng Yi (“Expansive Commentary on the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue”), on ideas found in Chapter 37 of the Dao De Jing, including “The Dao is constantly Wuwei, yet nothing is left undone” and “When desires are absent and stillness prevails, the world will settle itself.” “The uncarved simplicity without a name,” “calm and still,” “Wuwei,” and “allowing people to follow their nature” are all common terms in Daoist political thought and self-cultivation.