《道德真經廣聖義》Vol. 47
About this page. The original text of 《道德真經廣聖義》 Vol. 47 (Dongshen 洞神部, 51 volumes) is shown in Classical Chinese as transmitted in the Kanripo (Kyoto University) edition. An English interpretation of the 9 passages on this page accompanies it: select a passage or press “Interpretation” to show it. All texts in English
Reading modes explained
- Horizontal: ordinary left-to-right reading; the interpretation can be shown.
- Scroll: vertical text running right to left; the wheel scrolls sideways (no interpretation in this mode).
- Wheel: columns of vertical text turn around a drum; use the wheel, drag or arrow keys, or auto-play.
- Pages: about 200 characters per page; use the buttons, swipe or arrow keys.
Source textInterpretation
The Broadly Expounded Sacred Meaning of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue, Volume 46, Section 9
Composed by Du Guangting, Master Guangcheng of the Tang
Commentary on Chapter 70, “My Words Are Very Easy to Understand”
(Continuing the previous chapter’s warning against warfare; this chapter explains the teaching of clear and penetrating principle.)
The previous chapter discussed the cautions against using troops and against underestimating the enemy. This chapter discusses the clear and penetrating nature of principle, explaining that “it is easy to understand and easy to put into practice.” What is easy to understand must have a guiding principle one can uphold; underestimating the enemy means losing one’s foundation. The chapter’s structure is roughly as follows: first, it declares that the teaching of the sages is easy to understand; then it explains why those who have lost their way do not understand it. The lines beginning “My words have an ancestral principle” explain what it means for the teaching to be easy to understand; those beginning “It is precisely because” discuss why people fail to understand. The closing passage laments that the sage conceals jade beneath coarse cloth and encourages the superior person to practice diligently.
The previous chapter has already made clear that those who act with compassion prevail, while those who underestimate the enemy perish. This chapter says that the Dao is inherently easy to understand and easy to put into practice, yet those who are deluded do not know or understand it. Because they have not awakened to the highest Dao, they cannot deeply grasp its admonitions; few are those who know me. If one can follow the Dao and prize faith, one is like someone wearing coarse cloth while concealing jade—something an ordinary person cannot recognize. The Dao is inherently easy to understand. Those who do not understand it may be foolish, but even the sage does not accept those who claim to know when they do not. The next chapter continues by clarifying this point.
Scripture
My words are very easy to understand, very easy to put into practice.
Note: Lao Jun says: What I say accords with principle, and so is easy to understand; what I put into practice is simple in its affairs, and so is easy to put into practice.
Commentary: Lao Jun says: What I say opens up principle; when principle is clear, attachment to words falls away, and so it is easy to understand. What I attend to is attending to non-attending; when affairs are simple, one’s practice is Wuwei (non-action), and so it is easy to put into practice.
Meaning: “I” refers to Lao Jun. These two lines convey Lao Jun’s teaching throughout the scripture: the Three Treasures, the Four Good Practices, frugality, yielding, modesty, and compassion are all truly easy to understand and easy to put into practice. They can serve to cultivate oneself and bring order to the state. Taking Wuwei as their root and clarity and stillness as their foundation, they make affairs simple and principle clear. They are very easy to understand and not difficult to put into practice.
Yet no one under Heaven can understand them or put them into practice.
Note: People under Heaven are held back by words and fail to awaken; they are burdened by affairs and cannot simplify them. Therefore, no one can understand or put the teaching into practice.
Commentary: This laments that living beings cannot comprehend “speaking without words.” They cling to words and become stuck in the teaching, confused by verbal instruction; therefore, they cannot understand. They cannot awaken to “attending to affairs without affairs”: burdened by affairs, they cannot simplify them, and lost in worldly concerns, they cannot put the teaching into practice.
(In the original text, the commentaries on the chapter’s central ideas and on lines such as “My words have an ancestral principle” and “It is precisely because” follow immediately. Their general meaning is that the sage conceals jade beneath coarse cloth, that few are those who know me, and that people are urged not to underestimate others, not to claim knowledge falsely, and to trust and practice the simple Way.)
Plain-Language Interpretation
Explanation
People are often misled by “establishing merit” and “striving to win.” They underestimate their opponents and rush ahead, failing to practice frugality, humility, and compassion. As a result, few truly understand the principle of “easy to know and easy to practice,” much less put it into practice. Though Laozi’s five thousand words are profound, their purpose is to guide people toward realizing “profound mystery.” Yet when teaching people, simplicity matters: Wuwei (non-action) is easy to understand, and doing nothing is easy to practice. If people abandon this foundation of “non-action and doing nothing” and instead cling to doctrines and fixate on the literal wording, their practice will only lead them further into confusion. That is why “no one can understand or practice it.” This is Laozi’s way of urging rulers to realize the Dao early.
Note
Words serve to reveal the principle. Once the principle is grasped, the words should be forgotten; thus “not speaking” is the fundamental teaching of speech. Deeds serve to achieve results. Once the work is complete, one should not claim credit or keep managing affairs; thus “doing nothing” is the ruler of action.
Commentary
This passage further explains the foundation of what makes the Dao “easy to know and easy to practice.” The root is the foundation; the ruler is what governs. Words are meant to clarify the principle. Once it is clear, words can be forgotten, so “not speaking” is the foundation. Deeds are meant to achieve results. Once the work is complete, deeds can be set aside, so “doing nothing” governs them. How could this not be easy to know and easy to practice?
Explanation
Realize that “speech has its root in silence,” and it is easy to know. Realize that “action has its root in non-action,” and it is easy to practice. If you are stuck on words and cling to doctrines, you do not understand the foundation. If you fixate on the outward forms of action and lose yourself in worldly affairs, you do not understand what governs them. Only by letting go of attachment and setting confusion aside can you gradually accord with the Great Dao.
Only because they lack true understanding do they fail to understand me
Note
It is because people have not attained thorough understanding that they fail to grasp my teaching of “no words and no affairs.”
Commentary
“Fail to understand me” means that they do not understand me, Laozi. People are confused and have not attained thorough understanding. They cling to names and appearances and cannot see the full course of things. Attached to affairs and caught up in words, they do not understand the deeper meaning of my making “no words and no affairs” the foundation and governing principle. Another interpretation is that what I know lies only in “not knowing,” while people seek knowledge through intellect; that is why they cannot understand me.
Explanation
“Not speaking” is the ultimate ground of speech, returning to the highest principle. “Doing nothing” governs by setting aside the forms of action and accord with Wuwei (non-action). People cannot understand it, so it is called difficult to know; they cannot put it into practice, so it is called difficult to practice.
Those who understand me are few; those who follow me are precious
Note
Those who can grasp what I mean by “forgetting knowledge” are few. That is why my teaching of not speaking is so precious.
Commentary
“Those who understand me are few” means that few people understand me. “Those who follow me are precious” means that the principle followed by those who practice my way—my teaching of not speaking—is supremely worthy.
Expansive Commentary on the True Scripture of the Way and Its Virtue: A Modern Interpretation
1. Solemnity and Simplicity
General sense of the scripture: Solemn, exalted, serene, and clear: those whose thoughts are deep and far-reaching surpass those who crave rich foods. Those bathed in heavenly radiance surpass those adorned with finery. Thus the noble person wears abundant Virtue (De) and takes solemnity as the foundation; ordinary people, by contrast, prize fine clothes and splendid carriages. The terms qian, pao, yi, and qian mentioned above express the Dao’s most subtle and wondrous qualities. People of the time did not recognize its Dao. They admired only their clothes and carriages, and prized what they could see and hear outwardly, without knowing that the heart can hold the Dao’s subtle wonder.
Commentary: What Heaven puts into motion is Heaven’s Virtue. Heaven is the first source of all beings, so its Virtue is likewise the beginning of all Virtue. Nothing else is supremely weighty; of all things, only Heaven is most weighty. For those who love a good name, the praise of the crowd matters more than fine clothes, and the people’s carriage matters more than one’s own dignity. The fault addressed here is not a taste for gold, jade, or rich food, but a craving for empty fame and for the talk of the world. Even one who holds the highest rank as ruler and enjoys supreme honors can prize nothing more than the ultimate Dao. One who embraces the Dao is truly noble even while living among the grasses and marshes; one who does not embrace it is truly base, even amid the splendor of the greatest treasures.
Meaning: The Dao is honored, and one who knows this honors it. If one can treasure it, then all things seem insignificant beside oneself. Knowing how to prize oneself through the Dao surpasses the status of a ruler, the accumulation of treasures in a carriage, and the adornment of diligent self-cultivation: these are forms of great excess. The sage values the body in relation to the ultimate Dao, but does not consider himself weighty or exalted. Thus he embraces the One and dwells in emptiness; he acts without claiming possession, and when his work is done, he does not dwell on it. By not standing alone in pride, he grows ever more worthy of honor. What he prizes is no more than the utmost spirit and the source that comprehends the web of things. People of the time often strutted in public, indulged their desires, and sought favor through their carriages and clothes, hoping to surpass those who enjoyed rich foods. They seemed to doubt that a disciple’s heart could match Shun’s. Only the sage knows how to honor himself through the Dao.
2. The Dao That Can Be Spoken Is Not the Constant Dao
Scripture: The Dao that can be spoken is not the constant Dao; the name that can be named is not the constant name. The nameless is the beginning of Heaven and Earth; the named is the mother of the myriad things.
Note: The supremely high Dao can be revealed; abundant achievement and far-reaching work can be praised.
Commentary: The beginning of Heaven and Earth is the time before there were things; the mother of the myriad things is what bears them. The Great Dao has no name and is the beginning of Heaven and Earth.
Meaning: Whenever we speak of the beginning of Heaven and Earth, we mean the beginning of form; when we speak of the mother of the myriad things, we mean the beginning of number. As the beginning of Heaven and Earth, it is therefore the mother of the myriad things. What is supremely high has a nature that is spontaneously so. The vast, unbounded Dao enters into what can barely be put into words. At the beginning of the undifferentiated Origin, there was neither form nor substance. It became the beginning of Heaven and the root of Earth through its own naturalness. The phrase “abundant achievement and far-reaching work” refers to the transformations of the Mysterious Gate at the beginning: the myriad things came to life, and sustaining them all was an achievement. Because the Dao completes its work without dwelling on it, it can be praised as supremely great and weighty.
Consider these words: if the Dao can be praised, it is no longer the constant Dao; if it can be given form in words, then its name is no longer the true, constant name. Originally nameless, it is the source from which Heaven and Earth arise. Once names are established, they provide a basis for the myriad things. Its source is deep and nameless; it is the mother of the myriad things. To name what is exalted is already to introduce change.
The phrase “the beginning of Heaven and Earth” means that the Dao has a beginning in form; once there is form, there can be a name. The phrase “the mother of the myriad things” means that things have number; where there is number, there can be a name. With beginning and form, number and name, the movement of the Dao turns toward the small, the realm to which things return. The beginning is the root; the mother is the womb. The root can contain and bring forth; the womb is where things gestate and come to completion. Thus it is said that high and low depend on one another.
Subtle being arises from Great Nonbeing; Great Nonbeing arises from naturalness. By way of comparison: naturalness has no cause and depends on nothing. Once it is established, Heaven and Earth come to be. Once Heaven and Earth exist, they become causes and supports in their own right. With the forms of Heaven and Earth come the numbers of all beings; thus they are called “beginning” and “mother.” The first traces of the Divine Mirror are found in the beginning, where only the obscure and incipient can be discerned. Number begins with One, so the Divine Mirror is called the Great One. At first, the Five and the One occupy their places, and this is why it is called the Great One. The Great One is also the determinate number of the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji); to make clear that it has a definite name, it is called “the named.” Heaven is the ancestor of the myriad things, and Earth is their womb. When the root is first established, this is the beginning of Heaven and Earth; when gestation first begins, this is the mother of the myriad things. Though there is a beginning and a name, neither has yet issued into speech. Once speech arises, there is naming, and the Five Notes divide into their distinct ranges. If sound could not be heard, there would be nothing by which to act among the numbers of the myriad things.
Kun is the first ancestor of the Origin. It emerges and gives birth to One, establishing the root of Heaven and Earth; from One, the greatness of Heaven and Earth is established. The ultimate principle cannot be named through sound; resonance has no audible form in Qi. The Dao spoken of here lies beyond this One, already past the nameless beginning and the city without traces. This is the meaning of “the beginning of Heaven and Earth” and “the mother of the myriad things.”
Commentary, continued: The Divine Mirror and the Supreme Ultimate make natural causes and supports manifest. Thus the beginning of Heaven and Earth takes the Imperial Dragon and the Cloud Dragon as its womb: they are the womb of Heaven and Earth, and the mother of the myriad things.
3. Few Know Me; Those Who Follow Me Are Honored
General sense of the scripture: Those who understand me by forgetting words and grasping the principle are very few. Those who can take my words as their model and put them into practice are worthy of honor.
Meaning: Few indeed understand the source that is beyond words. Those who can embody my wordless way as their model are precious. Yet teaching is rooted in wordlessness, and words are needed to distinguish principles; teaching is rooted in non-action, and action is needed to explore the mystery. Once principles have been distinguished, words can be forgotten; once the mystery has been explored, actions can be simplified. When words are forgotten and actions simplified, one can speak of the Dao.
Scripture: Therefore the sage wears coarse cloth and holds jade within.
Note: Wearing coarse cloth conceals what is outward; holding jade within illuminates what is inward.
Commentary: He means coarse cloth, a garment worn by people of low status. To wear a fur coat over coarse cloth is to cover one’s rough, humble clothing. Jade is lustrous and may be compared to the Virtue of a noble person. The point is to make clear that the sage is inwardly wise and clear, while outwardly appearing foolish. His appearance of foolishness is why he is said to wear coarse cloth; his clear wisdom is why he is said to hold jade within.
Meaning: For the sage, concealment and revelation, withdrawal and engagement, all follow the same path; speech and silence alike accord with it, without the slightest lapse. Yet people of the age cannot see into the sage’s depths. His wisdom encompasses every kind of action, and his Virtue surpasses the Nine Heavens. He embodies the source of Wuwei (non-action) and understands the meaning of forgetting both sides. Outwardly, he conceals his use of things, lets his traces blend into the world, and harmonizes with the light; inwardly, his clarity shines, his discernment reaches to the depths, and his understanding extends far. Thus the Riverbank Lord’s commentary says: “Within, he is radiant; outwardly, he appears foolish and dull. A bright pearl lies inside a mussel, and beautiful jade is found within stone.” This is the meaning of wearing coarse cloth and holding jade within.
The Dao is supremely clear, yet ordinary and foolish people fail to see it. Zhuangzi said: “It has no gate or boundary, yet it extends in all directions, vast and bright. Is this not clarity?” The Dao-heart is subtle: where does it not reach? Yet lesser scholars are confused by it. To wear coarse cloth is for the sage to blend outwardly with others: coarse cloth is a humble garment, shared with the common people. To hold jade within is for the sage to make his inner clarity shine. Jade is the beauty within stone, and it has five virtues: it is moist and warm, like benevolence in a person; its veins can be seen from the outside, revealing what lies within, like righteousness; its sound rings out clearly and carries far, like wisdom; it cannot be bent without breaking, like courage; and though keen-edged, it does not wound, like purity. The comparison between jade and Virtue appears in the Book of Rites, in the chapter “Jade Pendants,” which says that the noble people of antiquity always wore jade.
Textual Notes (Appendix Summary)
This chapter was collated against the Ming Wanli edition held by the Nanjing Library, editions in the Daoist Canon, and the facsimile editions of the Supplementary Daoist Canon, including the Du and E volumes. Typical errors include an interpolated phrase, “the great chiliocosm,” and the confusion of “sheep’s voice” with “constant.” These should be settled by checking the layout and lines of the printed editions. Discrepancies between fascicle twenty and the edited Daoist Canon and its separately printed fascicle remain to be examined in future research.
The foregoing is a modern interpretation of the main ideas in the end of fascicle nine and the beginning of fascicle ten of the Expansive Commentary on the True Scripture of the Way and Its Virtue, together with the appendix’s note of thanks to Xie Enyi and its editorial collation notes. Specialized terms have been briefly explained at first mention.
When wearing jade pendants, the right side corresponds to the notes zhi and jue, symbolizing the people and the myriad things; the left side corresponds to the notes gong and yu, symbolizing the ruler and affairs of state. When going out, one should move in time with the music of “Gathering the Shepherd’s Purse”; when entering the hall and ascending the steps, one should move in time with the music of “Grand Summer.” Turning and circling should follow the compass: walk straight, then turn in an arc. Making a sharp turn and doubling back should follow the carpenter’s square: walk at right angles and make square turns. Bending slightly forward while advancing is called a bow; raising the body slightly while retreating is called an uplift. In this way, the jade pendants ring clearly. Thus, when a gentleman rides in a carriage, he hears the sound of the carriage bells; when he walks, he hears the sound of his jade pendants. Improper thoughts then have no way to enter his heart.
When the Crown Prince is before his father, the ruler, he wears no jade on his left side: he ties the pendant in place without allowing the jade to ring. He removes the pendant from his right side. In ordinary times he wears the pendants hanging freely; at court audience he ties them in place, for he dares not let the jade ring before the ruler. During purification, he ties the pendants quietly and folds them up. A belt is always worn with jade, except during mourning. This refers to major occasions such as mourning for the king. The pendants include pieces such as the chongya. A gentleman does not part with the jade on his person without special cause, because jade is a likeness of De (Virtue). Only mourning and calamity count as “cause” enough to remove it.
The Son of Heaven wears white jade with dark cords; dukes and marquises wear mountain-dark jade with red cords; high officials wear water-blue jade with plain cords; heirs wear yu jade with dark green cords; and gentlemen wear ruanwen jade with warm-colored cords. Confucius wore an ivory ring five inches long, with a dark green fine cord. This expressed humility and withdrawal: he did not use jade as a symbol of De, showing that he did not hold office. The ring signifies a cycle without end.
“Knowing Without Knowing,” Chapter 71: Summary of the Commentary
Commentary: The previous chapter discussed the Dao’s (the Way’s) transformative teaching and explained that it is simple and easy to learn. This chapter points to what the mind knows: emptiness and forgetting are best. It distinguishes delusion from awakening: clinging to forced knowledge becomes an affliction. The final phrase, “It is precisely because…” laments that the sage, knowing this affliction, does not force knowledge.
Meaning: The previous chapter already said that once one knows the Dao is precious, one should conceal one’s traces and hide one’s radiance. Forced knowledge is not the proper Way; one must forget knowing in order to accord with the Dao. The sage does not suffer from the affliction of forced knowledge and so has no such affliction. If practitioners can grasp the sage’s mind, what affliction could they have?
“Esteeming not knowing; not knowing that knowing is an affliction”
Note: Realizing that the nature of phenomena is inherently empty is not a matter of “knowing.” To be aware yet able to forget knowing is the highest form of De. Failing to recognize that the nature of knowing is inherently empty, and forcing knowledge upon what one knows, is an affliction in one’s practice.
Commentary: The nature of phenomena is inherently empty and is not something to be known. The sage awakens to this, and so is said to be free of affliction, continuing the meaning of the previous chapter.
Vernacular Interpretation
“Knowledge that grasps at appearances” and “not knowing is the highest De”
This passage says that views and knowledge fixated on “appearances and distinctions” do not amount to true knowledge. That is why Laozi says that “not knowing” is instead the highest state of De (Virtue/Power).
“Knowing that knowing is an affliction” and distinguishing confusion
Ordinary people do not understand that their views and knowledge are not ultimately real. When one insists on pretending to know where one ought to be without knowledge, attachment arises and one becomes bound. In cultivation, this is an “affliction.” The passage is clarifying this mistake.
Explanation
True knowing means recognizing that “knowing” is not an inherently real form of true knowledge. To know without clinging to knowledge is the highest attainment. Failing to understand true knowledge while insisting on forcing oneself to know is an affliction. The sage understands that all phenomena are illusory. In cultivating the Dao, the sage forgets knowing even while knowing, and the affliction of forced knowing naturally falls away.
“Only by treating the affliction as an affliction does one avoid being afflicted.”
Commentary: Only by facing and treating the affliction of forced knowing can one avoid being harmed by it.
Explanation: Because beings force themselves to know, they give rise to deluded attachments, which become sources of affliction. Only by treating forced knowing as an affliction and forgetting knowing even while knowing can one avoid being afflicted by it. That is why the passage says, “Only by treating the affliction as an affliction does one avoid being afflicted.”
Interpretation: Recognizing that forced knowing is an affliction, and using that recognition to guard and heal oneself, means one is free of the affliction of forced knowing.
“The sage is not afflicted. Because he treats the affliction as an affliction, he is not afflicted.”
Commentary: The sage is not afflicted because he treats and dispels the forced knowing found among ordinary beings as an affliction.
Explanation: The sage’s wisdom is complete; he understands reality as it is and forgets knowing even while knowing, so “knowing” cannot afflict him. This is because he first takes up the affliction of ordinary people’s forced knowing, using true knowledge to break through deluded knowledge. Once the affliction of deluded knowledge has been completely removed, he also lets go of the “medicine” of true knowledge. That is why the passage says he is “not afflicted.”
Interpretation: Ordinary people have limited understanding. They have not realized true knowledge, yet cling to forced knowing and remain trapped in confusion. The sage’s wisdom is complete: he does not cling to forced knowing, and fully understands the principle of true knowledge. He can cure the affliction of forced knowing and is not misled by it. Thus, “because he treats the affliction as an affliction, he is not afflicted.”
For example, some say the Great Dao involves “attachment and action,” while others say it involves “non-attachment and non-action.” Those who cling to “nonbeing” become afflicted by “attachment to being,” while those who cling to “being” become afflicted by “attachment to nonbeing.” The sage understands that the Dao is neither only being nor only nonbeing. Clinging to neither side, he can cure beings of their affliction of attachment and is therefore not afflicted. The principle is the same.
Hence the sayings, “Great eloquence seems halting” and “At the highest level of knowing, one forgets knowing.” The stories of Yan Hui seeming foolish and of Kong Guang’s “Wen Tree” episode convey the same idea.
Concerning “Threefold Restraint” and Caution
“Threefold Restraint” means keeping the mouth closed, speaking with care, and guarding the mind. The Scripture of the Western Ascension says, “Knowing ‘not-knowing’”—this is the key to grasping the pivot of the Great Dao.
Chapter Seventy-Two: Chapter Summary
The previous chapter explained that knowing with the mind, and then emptying oneself of knowledge, is the higher course. This chapter addresses the affliction of delusion: in the world there is a fearsome “might.” It first points out that when people do not stand in awe of might, calamity comes upon them. It then urges them to empty the mind and quiet desire, so that the spirit is not wearied by human feelings and cravings. Finally, it offers the conduct of the sages as proof, teaching people what to take up and what to relinquish.
Interpretation: Having shown both “knowing” and “letting go of knowing,” the sage also points out that straining to display one’s cleverness is an affliction. The sage then warns that “might” must be feared: if people do not stand in awe of it, great might will descend upon them. They must cleanse their thoughts and empty the mind, settle the spirit at the Crimson Pass—a cultivation point in the region of the heart and Qi sea—and peacefully nurture Qi, experiencing the Great Dao within the mysterious void.
Humans and spirits depend on one another. The essential thing is to let go of every attachment and free oneself from burdens such as aversion to people, excessive familiarity, and narrowness, without relying on “knowledge” or “affection.” Then one should have the courage to embrace humility and gentleness, tempering one’s forceful resolve as a path of cultivating the Dao.
Scripture: “When the people do not stand in awe of might, great might will come upon them.”
Commentary: Might that inspires awe is called “might.” The meaning is that when people fail to be cautious even in small matters and minute details, they bring upon themselves calamities of the greatest and most fearsome kind.
Exegesis: Might that inspires fear is called “might.” Desires and evils often arise from the tiniest beginnings; they accumulate from small things into great ones, eventually becoming the calamity of great might. If people cannot exercise care over the smallest details, they will find themselves in a state of great peril.
Interpretation: The noble person has three things to revere: the Mandate of Heaven, great people, and the words of the sages. In conducting oneself in the world, one should make concern and caution one’s foundation. If those who govern a country act with concern and caution, the four seasons will proceed in harmony, the six Qi will follow their proper order, the spirits will communicate, and the state will be at peace.
Without concern and caution, the spirits will not communicate, and calamities will become commonplace. If one cultivates oneself with concern and caution, officials will govern well and the household will be peaceful; illness will not arise, and one’s purpose and spirit will remain balanced. Without such care, the opposite will follow: great might will come upon you. Who could escape?
Scripture: “Do not constrict the place where it dwells.”
Commentary: The place where the spirit dwells is the mind. “Do not constrict” means to remove feelings and desires, leaving the mind empty so that “from emptiness comes clarity”—a state in which clarity emerges from emptiness and stillness.
Exegesis: The spirit dwells in the mind. A person should forget feelings and relinquish desires, keeping the heart broad and gentle so that the spiritual chamber—the dwelling place of the mind—remains spacious and at ease. Then the spirit will rest in the mind, and the body can endure.
Interpretation: The spirit is the body’s master, and the mind is the dwelling of the numinous. When cravings and desires do not intrude…
Forgetting both self and things, and not allowing right and wrong to linger in the heart, lets the spirit dwell in the Numinous Palace.
The Scripture of the Western Ascension says: “Scheming and deliberation are the chief sources of danger; those beset by danger cannot endure for long.” This teaches people to reduce calculation, cut off distracting thoughts, and lessen selfishness and desire.
It also says: “The body is the spirit’s carriage and dwelling; the spirit is the body’s master. When the master is at peace, the spirit settles there; when it is agitated, the spirit departs.” The heart can shift between stillness and movement, and for this reason it is called spirit. The spirit can fly and even move mountains; these powers reveal its numinous nature. The spirit’s power is beyond imagining. Thus, when one cultivates the Three Flights and practices the Great Cavern, one rides cloud carriages drawn by dragons, comes forth from existence and enters nonexistence, ascends to the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), commands water and fire with a shout, moves mountains and sinks the earth—nothing is beyond one’s power. But if these powers are used contrary to the Dao, they can ruin a state and destroy a life. One will sink into the six desires, drift through realms of suffering, and wander back and forth through birth and death. Good and evil, fortune and misfortune, all arise from the heart. That is why the heart is called the Numinous Palace.
Never grow weary of what gives you life
Commentary: What gives life to the body is the spirit. “Never grow weary” means to lessen selfishness and desire so that the spirit is not exhausted.
Explanation: What gives life to the body is the spirit. “Weary” means to become tired of or reject something. People are born through the spirit, so the spirit is called that which gives them life. The spirit lodges in emptiness and stillness, and favors quiet. People should cleanse the heart and still their thoughts; then the spirit will return of its own accord. If they indulge their desires and defile the spirit, or busy themselves with activity that unsettles their nature, their Jing and Qi will scatter. Once scattered, desire arises. Thus people are urged not to reject the spirit that gives them life, so that they may preserve the way of longevity.
Meaning: The body comes into being when it receives the spirit from the Dao and takes form. The spirit is the subtle wonder of Yin and Yang; form is the substance of Yin, and Qi is the numinous power of Yang. A person receives life in bodily form, relying on the spirit to function and on Qi to bend and stretch. When spirit and Qi are whole, life endures; when they are gone, death follows. The body is the spirit’s dwelling, and the spirit is the body’s master—how could one grow weary of it and cast it aside?
Moreover, what gives life to the body may be understood as three things: first Jing, second spirit, and third Qi. At the beginning of life, the Dao bestows Qi, Heaven bestows spirit, and Earth bestows Jing. These three unite to bring the body into being. People should preserve Jing, nourish Qi, and keep the spirit present; then they can attain longevity. If any one of the three scatters, disorder and illness follow, and depletion ends in death. To fail to cherish these three is to let them scatter and cast them aside.
A Plain-Language Reading of The Broad Commentary on the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue
Scripture: If Shen (spirit) becomes scattered and leaves the body, a person dies. Can one fail to guard it and keep it safe? These three—Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen—sustain life, and are therefore called “that which gives life.”
Scripture: It is precisely because they do not grow weary of one another that they do not grow weary of one another.
Commentary: Because people do not grow weary of Shen, Shen does not grow weary of people.
Exposition: “Borrow” means to receive on loan; “endow” means to receive as one’s natural allotment. People can cherish the Dao and nurture Shen, which is why the text says, “It is precisely because they do not grow weary.” By cleansing away defilements, stilling thoughts, and remaining refined and single-minded, Shen does not grow weary of people. That is why it says, “Thus they do not grow weary.”
Interpretation: “Borrow” means to receive on loan, “endow” means to receive as one’s natural allotment, and “defilements” means impurity. Those who cultivate the Dao nourish Shen and cherish Qi, keeping their minds empty and still. Shen can then remain within them, and does not grow weary of them; thus they can live long. “Cleanse away defilements and still thoughts” comes from the Scripture of the Western Ascension, in which Lord Lao admonishes Yin Xi as he is about to ascend to the Great Tenuity: cleanse away defilements and still thoughts; quiet the mind and preserve the One. When all defilements are removed, all affairs are complete. This is the essence of the Dao. “Be refined and be single-minded” comes from the Counsels of the Great Yu in the Book of Documents. When Shun ordered Yu to succeed him, he said: “The human mind is perilous; the Dao mind is subtle. Be refined and be single-minded, and you will truly hold to the Mean.” The perilous is hard to settle, and the subtle is hard to discern; only refinement and single-mindedness make it possible to hold firmly to the Mean.
Scripture: Therefore, the sage knows himself but does not display himself.
Exposition: “Knows himself” means turning inward in reflection and guarding against harm even in its earliest signs, so that there is nothing to fear. “Does not display himself” means not showing off one’s abilities before others. Such display violates what is constant and throws things out of balance, thereby inviting trouble.
Interpretation: People do not boast of their abilities or flaunt their conduct. As the Book of Documents says: “Because you do not boast, no one under Heaven can contend with you for merit; because you are not self-important, no one under Heaven can contend with you for ability.” By turning inward, concealing one’s radiance, and observing all within the Four Seas, one naturally has nothing to fear. At this point in self-cultivation, one’s achievements and reputation shine forth, and one’s Daoist virtue is full.
Scripture: Cherishes himself but does not exalt himself.
Commentary: To know one’s own body and guard against what might be feared is to cherish one’s body and keep Shen from growing weary. Not displaying one’s abilities helps avoid inviting trouble; not exalting oneself prevents resentment from gathering.
Exposition: The sage protects and cherishes his body, cutting off cravings and desires so that Shen does not grow weary of the body. “Does not exalt himself” means not priding himself on his status and abusing others, thereby gathering resentment.
Interpretation: Preserving harmony, nurturing the Valley Spirit, speaking sparingly, and nourishing Qi; cutting off cravings, restraining desires, suppressing wrongdoing, and diminishing what is harmful: these are ways of cherishing oneself. Fine furs, strong horses, rich food, fine clothes, and lavish dwellings are not wrong in themselves, but using them to exalt oneself is. Those who cultivate the Dao should cherish themselves without exalting themselves.
A Modern Interpretation of The Broad Commentary on the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue
Main idea of the passage
To exalt oneself constantly and regard oneself as supremely noble is like piling up ornate terraces and towers. This is “self-exaltation”: an arrogant sense of one’s own importance.
If one instead “cherishes oneself,” valuing one’s life and nurturing one’s spirit, the heart can become calm and at ease.
Self-exaltation, focused only on one’s own comfort, harms the people, wastes resources, and breeds resentment. Thus it is said: A ruler who follows the Dao takes the people’s well-being as his own; a ruler who does not follow the Dao seeks pleasure only for himself. When a ruler finds joy in the people’s happiness, they will follow him; when he seeks only his own pleasure, they will turn away.
Therefore, one should set aside the former and hold to the latter: give up “showing oneself off” and “exalting oneself,” and embrace “knowing oneself” and “cherishing oneself.”
Commentary
“Set aside that” means to discard showing oneself off and exalting oneself. “Choose this” means to hold to knowing oneself and cherishing oneself.
Explanatory commentary
Because the sage’s wisdom accords with the Dao, he realizes that the nature of reality is empty and that, ultimately, there is no distinction between choosing and rejecting. When he reveals the teachings and guides ordinary people, he is only using words as a temporary means.
Further explanation
One who shows himself off cannot truly understand; one who exalts himself cannot endure. Thus Laozi says that to prize one’s own person above all and treat it as the most precious thing under Heaven might seem to make it possible to entrust all under Heaven to that person—but the sage sets aside this attitude and does not choose it.
Knowing oneself is true understanding; cherishing oneself brings peace. Thus it is said that valuing one’s own life as the most precious thing under Heaven might seem to make it possible to entrust all under Heaven to that person. This means that the sage cherishes his spirit inwardly and the people outwardly.
“Speaking by way of parable” means using words as a means to teach the world. It does not mean that the sage literally performs the acts of “setting aside that and choosing this”; rather, he sets forth this principle to encourage people.
Background
This passage follows the same line of thought as Chapter 13 of the Dao De Jing, which says, “One who knows himself is clear-sighted; one who cherishes himself is strong,” and speaks of “valuing oneself as one values all under Heaven” and “cherishing oneself as one cherishes all under Heaven.” The distinction between knowing and cherishing oneself—humility, nurturing the spirit, and caring for the people—and showing off and exalting oneself—display, indulgence in one’s own comfort, and mistreating the people—is a shared principle of governing and self-cultivation.
Source text: Kanripo 漢籍リポジトリ(KR5c0114); Licence: CC BY-SA 4.0 · Report an error / feedback