《道德真經廣聖義》Vol. 50

Classic: The Broad Exposition of the Sagely Meaning of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue

Scripture: The Broad Exposition of the Sagely Meaning of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue, Scroll Forty-Nine, Line Twelve

By Du Guangting, Master Guangcheng of the Tang dynasty

Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Soft and Weak in the World

(Continuing from the previous chapter: hardness and strength inevitably bring harm, as illustrated by the Dao of Heaven. This chapter explains how softness and weakness bring benefit, and praises the virtue of water. The first five lines point out water’s ability to overcome hardness and strength; the next four lament that no one puts this into practice; the following five lines confirm what came before, and the final line draws the passage to a close.)

(Explanation: The previous chapter discussed the Sage’s virtue of not relying on himself or claiming credit. Here, water’s virtue is presented as overcoming hardness and strength. Those who remain soft and weak are humble and flourish; those who flaunt their strength are held back. Thus, a ruler should regard enduring humiliation and bearing disgrace as great, and taking a lowly, inauspicious position as paramount. Only then does he accord with sagely virtue and the Middle Way. This may sound contrary to worldly opinion, but in fact it reveals all the more clearly the principle of “being in accord with goodness.”)

Nothing in the world is softer and weaker than water; yet nothing surpasses it in attacking what is hard and strong.

Commentary: Water’s nature is to settle low and not contend. Its movement and stillness change with the four seasons, while its shape conforms to whatever vessel holds it. Thus, nothing in the world is softer and weaker than water. And nothing surpasses it in attacking what is hard and strong. Though water is soft, it can wear through stone; though stone is hard, it cannot harm water. When hardness attacks hardness, both sides are injured; when water attacks stone, the stone is worn away while the water remains whole. We can see, then, that water is foremost in attacking what is hard and strong. Hence the saying, “Nothing can surpass it.”

Explanation: Water’s function is rooted in a substance that is utterly soft and a nature that readily settles low. The myriad streams converge, and the hundred valleys flow toward the sea. Light mist and dew rise into the air; the Celestial River courses across the Milky Way. This describes its vastness. From ancient times to the present, it has flowed into the sea without filling it; even the tiniest living things receive its moisture. This describes its minuteness.

Thus, the Old Master, Laozi, compared the Dao to water. It does not contend with the Three—Heaven, Earth, and humanity—and its seven virtues are complete. It embraces the transformations of creation and runs through the forms and signs of things. It dwells amid turbidity and accepts defilement; it conforms to square or round. This is utmost softness, and so things cannot harm it. When it spreads across the Ten Isles and floats to the Eight Extremities, sinks beneath the sun and moon, and holds Heaven and Earth within it; when valleys rise and mountains sink through its power, and the giant Kun and Peng transform by relying on it; when it can shatter mountains and pierce rocks—this is utmost strength, and so nothing can overcome it.

Plain-language overview

This chapter uses water as a metaphor: nothing in the world is softer and weaker, yet nothing surpasses water in overcoming what is hard and strong. Du Guangting explains that water settles low, does not contend, and adapts as circumstances change. Though soft, it can wear through stone, making it a model of softness overcoming hardness. Rulers and cultivators should learn from water’s “softness and weakness”: they should bear disgrace and humiliation without flaunting their strength. In this way they accord with sagely virtue and the Middle Way. This may seem counterintuitive, but it follows the same principle as the Dao of Heaven, which benefits all and does not contend.

No one can overcome it; yet the strong and the soft restrain one another, and the strong are bound to suffer harm. The principle is the same.

The six desires—those of the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—entangle one’s nature. The three actions—those of body, speech, and mind—bind the body and mind. These bonds grow heavier by the day and become difficult to loosen. They must be gradually dissolved through the way of utmost softness and the truth of utmost stillness, letting go little by little of rigid attachments. Persist in this practice for a long time, and all will become open, clear, and pure: when the empty room is made bright, wisdom arises of itself. This is what is meant by “the softest overcomes the hardest; nothing can prevail against it.”

Nothing can take its place—that is, nothing can replace this method of using water to overcome what is hard.

Commentary: When hardness attacks hardness, both are damaged. When softness overcomes strength, the strong are harmed while the soft remain whole. Thus nothing is more suited than water to overcome what is hard.

Exposition: Though water is utterly soft, nothing can take its place in overcoming hard and powerful things. Is this not because it possesses the virtue of non-contention and has no wish to hold on to victory? Governing a state and cultivating oneself should be done in the same way.

Interpretation: Among all things, nothing is better suited than water to overcome hardness and strength by not contending and by staying low. To dispel cravings and desires, nothing surpasses the Dao’s balanced, harmonious Qi and a mind of calm stillness. Applied to the body, the Dao removes dust and grime; applied to the state, it takes in what is foul and sweeps away flaws. Through it, all things return to benevolence, and the six desires are washed away.

Therefore, the soft overcomes the hard, and the weak overcomes the strong. Everyone in the world knows this, yet no one can put it into practice.

Commentary: The way of softness and weakness surpasses that of hardness and strength. Everyone in the world knows this way, yet cannot put it into practice.

Exposition: Everyone in the world knows that the way of softness and weakness surpasses that of hardness and strength. But people are deluded by their belief in their own worth and their esteem for themselves. They cannot act on what they know; hence it is said that no one can put it into practice.

Interpretation: Everyone knows that softness and weakness overcome hardness and strength. But though they know this, who can embody softness, cultivate their nature, use the Dao to cultivate the mind, temper their hardness and strength, and practice emptiness and stillness? If one can embody and cultivate this, how far away can the Dao be?

Therefore the sage says: “To bear the state’s filth is to be its lord of the altars of soil and grain; to bear the state’s misfortune is to be king of all under Heaven.”

Commentary: To take upon oneself the crimes of all within the realm is to bear the state’s filth and impurity. To call oneself “solitary,” “bereft,” and “unworthy” is to bear the state’s misfortune. When one’s De is such, the altars of soil and grain will have a worthy guardian, and the people of all under Heaven will turn to and follow that person.

Exposition: The sage’s words are cited to support the preceding point. This is an example of someone able to put into practice the principle that softness overcomes hardness. “Filth” means disgrace and defilement. The saying means that a ruler who can bear and take upon himself the filth…

Plain-language interpretation

To take upon oneself the blame for the people in every direction is to earn their respect for one’s Virtue, so that they do not disperse. When someone upholds the altars of the soil and grain, that is why he is called the master of the state’s altars. To bear the nation’s ill fortune is to be the king of All Under Heaven—here, “fortune” means what is good and beautiful. If a ruler can be humble and yielding, take upon himself what is bad in the nation, and call himself “the orphan,” “the solitary one,” or “the one who lacks worth,” then the people of the four seas will turn toward his benevolence. This is what it means to be the king of All Under Heaven.

Interpretive explanation: Water’s Virtue accords first with the Dao and next with the kingly Way; through its selflessness, it nurtures all things. A virtuous ruler governs All Under Heaven. Such a ruler honors the Dao and takes a humble position: he blames himself, yields modestly, holds himself accountable, and accepts the blame. To blame oneself is to bear the nation’s defilement, and likewise to bear the nation’s ill fortune. When the regions in every direction are transformed and the six realms unite in purpose, the ruler can uphold the state’s altars for a long time and reign as king.

The altars of the soil and grain are the foundation on which emperors and kings establish a state: the ancestral temple stands to the left, and the altars of the soil and grain to the right. The ancestral temple is where the ancestors are honored and joined with Heaven. The altars of the soil and grain honor agriculture and provide the ritual grain offerings; they are the foundation of the people’s food. Since people depend on food as they do on Heaven, a state must establish these altars first. That is why a king is called the master of the state’s altars.

The phrase “take upon oneself the blame for the people in every direction” comes from the Announcement of Tang in the Classic of Documents: “If the people in every direction are guilty, the fault lies with me alone; if I alone am guilty, it must not be laid upon the people in every direction.” The meaning of “the orphan,” “the solitary one,” and “the one who lacks worth” was explained in Chapter 39 of this classic.

Note: “Bear the nation’s defilement and become master of the state’s altars; bear the nation’s ill fortune and become king of All Under Heaven.” At first, these words seem contrary to ordinary expectations. This is why the text says, “Straight words seem reversed.”

Commentary: This sentence sums up what came before. To bear the nation’s defilement and become master of the state’s altars, and to bear the nation’s ill fortune and become king of All Under Heaven—these claims run counter to what people commonly consider reasonable. Laozi therefore explains with emphasis that these are the words and actions that can truly be trusted; ordinary people simply feel, when they first hear them, that they violate common sense.

Interpretive explanation: What sounds contrary to ordinary expectations accords with the Dao when put into practice. What sounds contrary to ordinary ears is precisely “straight words seem reversed.” The Scripture of Numinous Treasure says: Those who cultivate the Dao give up wealth and comfort, renounce honor and splendor, withdraw to live in the mountains and forests, and endure hardship. When their cultivation is complete and they realize the Dao, they ride on feathered carriages and cloud chariots and enjoy long lives—they find joy by first undergoing hardship. In the same way, emperors and kings call themselves “the orphan,” “the solitary one,” and “the one who lacks worth,” taking the blame upon themselves.

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

Continuing from the Previous Chapter

By correcting oneself, one may transform worldly ways, yet will also encounter inauspicious and dangerous events. The people willingly support such a ruler, allowing him to govern the state for a long time. This is the meaning of “true words seem contrary.”

Chapter Seventy-Nine: “Making Peace with a Great Grudge”

Commentary: The previous chapter explained that softness brings benefit, and therefore praised water.

Interpretation: This chapter explains that whenever laws and commands are established, abuses arise, inevitably leaving traces of lingering resentment. It first shows that establishing teachings and making peace with resentment are still not enough to constitute goodness. It then explains that when one who has De (Virtue/Power) holds the tally, resentment does not arise. Finally, the passage beginning “The Way of Heaven” explains that the Way of Heaven is impartial and favors only the good.

Interpretation: The preceding text says that the sage understands the emptiness and mystery of things, follows the highest goodness in serving the state, and rules in accord with Heaven. This means holding the tally, acting in season, and regarding the easing of resentment as admirable. It also says that only the good are favored, to show that the Way of Heaven is impartial. Abandoning boats and carts rather than riding in them, and putting aside armor and weapons rather than using them, is to join with the mysterious tally of the Great Dao (the Way). That is the meaning.

Scripture

Making peace with a great grudge, one is sure to leave some resentment behind.

Note

The greatest source of resentment, set against the body, is desire. “Making peace” means bringing into harmony. The passage says that a ruler may wish to use teachings to bring the people into harmony and free them from desire; hence it says, “making peace with a great grudge.”

Commentary

At birth, people’s bodies and minds are pure. Now they sink into the dusty world, lose the Dao, and fall into ruin—all because of desire. We can see, then, that the greatest source of resentment, set against the body, is desire.

“Making peace” means bringing into harmony. The people are already trapped in desire and have developed deceitful ways. Instead of practicing Wuwei (non-action) and letting them transform themselves, the ruler wants to establish teachings and laws to restrain deception and bring them into harmony. Thus the text says, “making peace with a great grudge.” “One is sure to leave some resentment behind” means that establishing teachings and laws cannot leave no trace; their abuses in turn give rise to resentment. Hence the text says that some resentment is sure to remain.

Interpretation

In relation to the human body, desire is resentment. The Record of Rites: Record of Music says: “At birth, human beings are still; this is their heavenly nature. When stirred by things, they become active; this is the desire of their nature. When things arrive and awareness follows, likes and dislikes take shape. If likes and dislikes lack restraint within, and awareness is enticed from without, so that one cannot turn back and reflect on oneself, the principles of Heaven are extinguished.” Things can stir people without end, so their influence cannot be stopped completely.

Desire has already begun to arise when a person is first born, and once habits have taken deep root, they are hard to remove. Even if one gathers oneself in mystery and keeps to simplicity, one must still worry that it may be difficult to accomplish.

If a sage follows the current and blends into worldly ways, they will not attain serenity and joy, nor be able to lay everything aside completely. Acting in this way often leaves behind “residual resentment.”

As for governing a state: reviving a fallen state and continuing an extinguished line of succession is called the height of impartiality. Aiding those in peril, stabilizing what is on the verge of collapse, and preserving those near extinction are also acts of great kindness. Yet Wugeng—the son of King Zhou of Shang, who rebelled against Zhou early in the dynasty—still stirred up disorder and nearly brought down the Zhou royal house. This is “residual resentment.”

Given this, how can such action be called truly good?

Commentary

When residual resentment remains, an action cannot be called good.

Establishing teachings and laws inevitably leaves traces; the more traces there are, the more easily abuses arise. If residual resentment has already been left behind, how can the action be called good? From this we can see that seeking goodness through worldly learning, or trying to “return to the beginning,” is not easy.

Only by transforming people from above through stillness, Wuwei (non-action), and freedom from interference, so that they acquire a simple and unadorned nature and act without the flaw of residual resentment, can something be called good.

Explanation

How difficult it is to establish teachings and guide people in order to remove the ills of long-standing habits! Only by cultivating them through Wuwei, setting an example through emptiness and stillness, partaking of a pure and harmonious Qi, and bringing them into accord with a tranquil and boundless heart, can they repeatedly return to unity, avoid the flaw of “residual resentment,” and accord with the profundity of the Twofold Mystery.

Worldly learning seeks goodness and wishes to return to the “beginning.” In the “Cultivating the Nature” chapter of the Zhuangzi, it says that worldly learning begins with benevolence and righteousness, while the “beginning” is the root from which nothing arises. People today are greedy to study benevolence and righteousness, and their minds are already in disorder. They then seek the desire for non-arising and wish to recover the radiance of “inner illumination,” but this cannot be done.

Therefore, the sage “holds the left tally” and makes no demands of others.

Note: The left tally refers to the heart-mind. The heart-mind belongs to Yang and is stored within; it accords with what lies before it, hence the name “left tally.” When a sage establishes teachings, traces are inevitably left behind, and wherever there are traces, there is residual resentment. Therefore, the sage holds this heart-mind and keeps it still and clear, using it to transform people below. Then people are free from the turmoil of desires and need not be punished or blamed; they naturally accord with Wuwei.

Explanation: The sage establishes teachings to guide people, but cannot thereby purify their desires. Holding the heart-mind in an empty chamber allows it to accord with the clear and mysterious Dao. When the heart-mind accords with the Dao, there is Wuwei; through Wuwei, people are transformed, and many methods need not be set up. True cultivation blends everything into unity, leaving no trace of residual resentment.

The method of cultivating the heart-mind: to grasp it is to become stuck; to forget it is to lose it. The way back to the source lies in neither grasping nor forgetting, but in being focused and undivided. Among methods for working with the heart-mind, the Scripture on Stability and Contemplation (Dingguan Jing) captures the essential point. The scripture says: “If you wish to cultivate the Dao, first learn to set things aside. Put an end to all external affairs and let nothing arise in the heart. Then sit quietly and contemplate within.”

Whenever the mind stirs, as soon as you notice a thought arise, remove it at once: let each movement vanish as it occurs.

To make the mind steady and calm, extinguish only the “stirring mind,” not the “illuminating mind”—the aspect that notices and sees clearly. Practice in this way without letting up. After long practice, the mind will pass through five stages, and the body will show seven signs.

The five stages of the mind are these. First, movement outweighs stillness. Second, movement and stillness are roughly equal. Third, stillness outweighs movement. Fourth, the mind is very still when nothing is happening, but is stirred again as soon as something arises. Fifth, the mind merges with the Dao, and no disturbance from external things can shake it. Only upon reaching the fifth stage does the mind truly find peace and joy: all traces of wrongdoing are cleared away, and afflictions cease. These five are the observable “signs of the mind” in cultivation.

The seven signs of the body are the results attained through cultivation. First, the mind enters stillness and perceives that all sensory defilements and leakages have vanished; one’s conduct accords with the moment, and one’s expression is calm and pleasant. Second, old illnesses fade away, and body and mind feel light and refreshed. Third, what Heaven has depleted is replenished, restoring one’s years and returning one to life by prolonging one’s innate Qi. Fourth, one’s lifespan extends for several thousand years; such a person is called an Immortal. Fifth, one refines the bodily form into Qi and is called a Realized Person. Sixth, one refines Qi into Shen and is called a Spiritual Person. Seventh, one refines Shen and merges with the Dao, becoming a Sage.

Sages establish teachings for the sake of living beings. Bound and entangled in the cycle of birth and death, living beings fall into evil destinies and lose the eternal True and Constant. So the Sage uses the mind within to guide and transform others. If an adept of the highest rank can emulate the Sage’s mind, letting coming and going unfold on their own, neither coveting external things nor clinging to existence or nonexistence, they can extinguish the stirring mind and accord with the Dao. Having accorded with the Dao, they then forget even the illuminating mind. Only when both movement and illumination are forgotten can one speak of long life and enduring vision, and of ascending to the Mysterious.

Even after attaining the fruit of Immortality, one remains constrained by the allotted Qi and the cycles of the years. From the first attainment of a celestial rank, one’s lifespan is nine million years. With each advance to a higher Heaven, the lifespan doubles, for a total of twenty-seven doublings. At the highest Heaven of the Formless Realm, Xiule, the total lifespan is 12,079,775,552,000 years. One still has a finite lifespan because one remains within the two Qi of Yin-Yang and amid the transformations of the Three Realms. Such a person has form, Qi, and Shen in full, can undergo unfathomable transformations, can die while seated or remain alive while standing, can appear or vanish at will, and possesses unimpeded spiritual powers. Yet they must still refine the body into Qi to leave the Three Realms. Only then are they free of any measure of lifespan.

Cultivating Shen into Qi makes one a Perfected Person; cultivating Qi into Shen makes one a Sage. These are Daoist terms for stages of spiritual cultivation. Perfected Persons and Sages transcend the cycles of fate forever and no longer undergo change. For them, a billion eons pass in an instant, and the myriad heavens lie within reach. The highest attainment of the Dao begins with refining the mind.

Thus the Scripture of Ascending to the West says: “Shen gives me life; the mind brings about my death.” Because the mind distinguishes between self and other, the body is subject to life and death. Only those without a mind can enter the Dao. The Scripture of Numinous Treasure says, “The Dao takes mindlessness as its central principle.” This is what it means.

Thus, those who possess De govern by the tally; those without De govern by strict enforcement.

Note: “Govern” means to take charge; “strict enforcement” means to impose rules. The idea is that a ruler with De governs by holding to the tally of the heart, and the people transform of themselves. A ruler without De instead sets up laws to regulate the people. Such laws bring harm, so this is not the good way.

Commentary: “Govern” means to take charge; “strict enforcement” means to impose rules. The idea is that when a ruler with De governs by holding to the tally of the heart, the people transform of themselves. A ruler without De cannot empty the mind and forget the self, but only wants to make laws to regulate the people. When laws are made, abuses arise; this is why such a ruler lacks De.

Explanation: Holding to the tally of the heart makes transformation easy; establishing laws and teachings makes it difficult. A ruler who holds to the tally possesses De and can reach the Dao. A ruler who establishes laws lacks De and has never penetrated the Mystery. This is how the Sage ruler understands it. I would add that the ruler with De belongs to the later age of antiquity, while the ruler without De belongs to the most ancient age. The ruler with De has De that is already named, and uses the heart’s tally to accord with things and their principles. Though things may be transformed for the better, this cannot bring them to the Dao. The ruler of the most ancient age has great, nameless De and transforms the people through the Dao. With the dawn of understanding, one can then see the unique; free of thought and action, one accords in mystery with the Great Dao. Thus one can attain the essential practice of stillness and contemplative observation, forgetting the mind, and realize the stages of transcending the ordinary, becoming Perfected, and entering sagehood.

The Way of Heaven is impartial; it always stands with the good.

Note: Governing by the tally brings purity and stillness; establishing laws brings decline and ruin. Heaven has no favorites and supports only those with De. Therefore, a ruler should always seek to transform the people through simplicity, practicing Wuwei (non-action), rather than setting up laws and stirring things up.

Commentary: Though the Way of Heaven distributes its blessings equally, it does not deceive the good. For those who govern by the tally in purity and stillness, Heaven blesses their goodness, so nothing fails to turn out well. For those whose laws inflict harm, Heaven sends calamity, and they cannot escape the consequences. Is this not what it means to say that Heaven has no favorites and supports only those with De?

Explanation: The way of governing by the tally makes what is within manifest, and so brings purity and stillness, making transformation easy.

Plain-Language Commentary

When laws rely only on rigid external control, they often create more disorder the more they are enforced, and become harder to put into practice. Treating “law” as a cure-all can itself become the source of problems, carrying us ever farther from goodness. What truly accords with the Great Dao and is in quiet harmony with it is the Dao’s essential principle; that is the root of goodness. The ancient texts make clear where fortune and misfortune come from.

On “bringing down calamity” (the source of disaster): The Book of Documents, in “The Instructions of Yi,” says: “The sage’s plans are far-reaching, and his good words shine forth.” Heaven does not show fixed favor to anyone: good conduct brings all kinds of good fortune, while evil conduct brings all kinds of calamity. As the familiar saying goes, “Heaven has no favorites; it aids only those with De.” The Book of Documents, in “The Announcement of Cai Zhong,” says that Heaven makes no distinction of closeness or distance among the people: only those with De receive its protection. Nor do the people have any ruler to whom they are bound forever: they rally to whoever truly cares for them. This is what is meant by “Treat me kindly, and I will honor you as my lord; abuse me, and I will regard you as my enemy.”

Note: This passage comes from a Song-dynasty Daoist doctrinal work interpreting scripture. It draws extensively on the Confucian Book of Documents to show that “Heaven’s Way rewards goodness and punishes evil, and the people’s allegiance depends on De, not power.” Its context differs from that of purely Neidan teachings.