《道德真經廣聖義》Vol. 7

Guang Shengyi of the True Classic of Dao and De, fascicle 6.

Composed by Master Du Guangting of the Guangcheng lineage in the Tang dynasty.

Chapter 1, “The Dao That Can Be Spoken”: This chapter explains how the subtle root (the profound root as Dao-body) manifests, and the origin of change in the myriad things.

What is meant here by “chapter” (zhang) is a section that divides and clarifies the meaning of the scripture. The ancients said that when a piece of music finishes playing, that is called one zhang; the character zhang combines “sound” with “ten,” suggesting that musical tones come to a pause and that a text is divided into sections. “Ming” means to make clear and manifest. “Miao ben” (subtle root) is the Dao. “You” is cause or reason; “qi” is to rise and come forth. “Wan” denotes vast number; “hua” means transformation. “Zong” is master or sovereign; “yuan” is source or root. The transformations of the myriad things all arise from the Dao; therefore the Dao is the root and sovereign of all transformation. The various doctrines of the whole classic also take their starting point from this chapter, like a river flowing from its source without end.

The opening first establishes doctrine from the root body called “xuji” (ultimate emptiness), then uses the provisionally imposed name “Dao” to refer to it, showing where the many profound meanings ultimately converge. “Shou” is beginning; “biao” is to lift up and mark out. “Xuji” refers to the subtle root at the utmost of emptiness; “qiang ming” means to impose a name on it with reluctance. At the start of this chapter, “that can be spoken” (ke dao) explains the body (ti), and “that can be named” (ke ming) explains the function (yong); at the end of the whole classic, it concludes with “the gate of all subtleties,” gathering outward signs back to the root—that is, turning again toward the root of the great Dao.

This chapter can be divided into seven parts. The first part treats “that can be spoken” and “that can be named,” explaining body and function. Body and function depend on each other and mutually illuminate: the body has no fixed, unchanging form, and function has no fixed, unchanging mode; without function, the body cannot appear; without body, function has nothing to stand on. Whether there is or is not, whether solid or empty, whether formed or formless, whether named or figured—all can serve as body and function for each other, and thereby mutually clarify. Thus the meaning of body and function lies in mutual illumination. “Ti” means form and root; “yong” means that on which one relies and what one does.

Plain Language Interpretation

Establishing the Root and the Traces

The basic framework is the distinction between “root” and “trace”: the root is fundamental, while the trace is secondary. Lao Jun said to Confucius: “The Six Classics are traces left behind by the former kings”—records of things they did in the past. A trace is an imprint left by someone’s footstep; how could an imprint serve as a shoe? If people take traces for shoes and then try to walk by stepping on them, they will stray ever farther from the right path. This shows that traces belong to what is secondary.

Having Desires and Being Without Desires

This explains the “Two Ways of Contemplation.” In terms of principle, contemplation is the practice one undertakes. What the eyes see is contemplation; what the ears hear is contemplation; what the spirit perceives is contemplation. One surveys all things outwardly and gathers the spirit inwardly; one illuminates the original mind within and forgets the myriad forms without. This is called contemplation. Contemplation is a step on the path of learning the Dao and cultivating the Real. Only through contemplative practice can one first enter the wondrous gate. The Dao cannot be attained by naming it or sought through form, so contemplative practice is the path of cultivation. To say that having desires leads to death, while being without desires accords with life, is to see through contemplation that life and death have different destinations.

One Source, Different Names

This explains the saying, “The uncarved block is divided and becomes vessels.” The Great Uncarved Block is the Dao. The Dao unfolds as the spirits and powers, flows into the sun and moon, divides into the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), and gives birth to the myriad things. A vessel is something with form and function. The Book of Changes says: “What is above form is called the Dao; what is below form is called a vessel.”

Together They Are Called Mysterious

This explains “vessels becoming complete and returning to the uncarved block.” The spirits and powers, the sun and moon, the Five Phases, and the myriad things all have form and are vessels, yet all accord with the Dao. This is why it is called “returning to the uncarved block.”

Mysterious Upon Mysterious

This clarifies “forgetting both.” When vessels take shape, one must preserve the uncarved block within them. After returning to the uncarved block, one must even forget that “uncarved block”; only then does one accord with the Dao. Hence it is called “mysterious upon mysterious.” “Forgetting both” means forgetting both the vessel and the uncarved block.

The Gate of All Wonders

This points to the realization and transcendence of the world that people reach through cultivation. When both vessel and uncarved block are forgotten, and one clearly accords with the Dao, one returns to the beginning of generation and transformation. This is the Gate of All Wonders. Human beings and all things receive their endowment from the Dao. Acting with intention and having desires cause one to lose the Dao and damage life; casting off desires and preserving harmony lead one back to the root and the beginning. This is the essential gate to knowing the Dao. “Realization and transcendence” means transcending the world.

Scripture: “The Dao that can be spoken of is not the constant Dao.”

Commentary: The Dao is a name provisionally given to the wondrous root at the utmost emptiness. “Guideline” means a passage or path.

“Dao” as a single character denotes the utterly empty and utterly supreme substance. It has no form and no sound; it does not end when later kalpas end, nor does it begin when heaven and earth are first opened. It is perfectly round, penetrating, clear, and still—originally without beginning and without end. Sages rely on its power to penetrate all things and generate all things in order to make its function manifest; people follow the traces it leaves and can thereby apprehend its source. Therefore, to call it “Dao” by that name is a forced label meant to indicate its virtue and function in penetrating and generating the myriad things.

The character “Dao” marks the fundamental theme honored throughout the whole text.

“Ke dao” (that which can be spoken of as Dao) means that this subtle source can penetrate the myriad things and generate them; the myriad things are born from it and move along its path, so it can be called “Dao.”

The one character “Dao” designates the substance that is wuwei (non-action) and formless; the two characters “ke dao” speak of Dao’s function of generating and transforming the myriad things. In these three characters, substance and function are both complete: the subtlety of the substance cannot be exhausted, and the reach of its function cannot be measured—hence Dao is the utterly still, subtle root.

“Fei chang dao” (not the constant Dao) means that this subtle source generates and transforms the myriad things, and its functioning has no fixed place. Even if one forces a name upon it, one cannot exhaust all its manifestations; at times it is called “great,” at times “passing,” “far,” or “returning”—it does not always appear as one fixed “Dao,” hence it is called “not the constant Dao.”

Dao disperses and becomes the myriad things, not confined to any single locus, so its function has no fixed place. Here only the root “Dao” is used to show that all things depend on Dao for birth and change, without listing each thing’s appearance one by one. Dao is so high that nothing is higher, yet nothing is excluded—this is “great”; high yet not stuck in “above,” great yet not limited to “outside”—this is “passing.” “Passing” means moving, going forth, reaching the endless without obstruction—this is “far.” Holding to the One in empty-heartedness and returning again to Dao—this is “return”; “return” means coming back. Here the twenty-fifth chapter of the Daojing, “There is a thing confusedly formed,” is cited to explain this principle. From this one knows that Dao’s movement is not tied to a fixed place, hence “not the constant Dao.”

“Names that can be named are not constant names.”

The commentary says: “Dao” refers to the utterly still, wondrous function; “name” is what the myriad things call the function they receive from Dao. When Dao’s function enters into things, it is said to be “speakable as Dao”; when names arise from function, it is said to be “nameable.” Dao’s function has no fixed place, so it cannot forever be limited to one manifestation of “Dao”; things differ from one another and names differ accordingly, so there cannot forever be only one fixed name. In other words, “Dao” is merely a forced label, while Dao itself is eternally without name.

The expository text says “name” means designation—the name each thing receives after obtaining Dao’s function. “Name” is also the character at the head of the scripture used to mark the theme.

The interpretive text says “name” is the word used to refer to things; the “Dao” that marks the theme is the root of “name.”

Names and traces: A name summarizes a trace, while traces are scattered throughout the myriad things, giving rise to countless different names. Only by returning from traces to their source can one accord with the Dao. We can therefore understand that the Dao is the source of names, while names are the Dao’s branches. Source and branch give rise to one another, and only then can transformation and nurture take place.

That which can be named: This means that a name arises from “function” and may be established on that basis, but it is not an eternal, unchanging name. The constant Dao cannot be named: In Heaven it is called clarity, on Earth it is called stillness, in spirits it is called numinous power, and in valleys it is called fullness. Each receives the One, yet serves a different function, so each bears a different name. Thus it does not abide forever in a single name; hence the phrase “the constant Dao cannot be named.”

Meaning: Without function, the Dao remains undifferentiated; with function, names are established. When Heaven receives the Dao, it displays clear and luminous signs; when Earth receives the Dao, it is firm and still; when spirits receive the Dao, their transformations never cease; when valleys receive the Dao, they are full and never depleted. Here the second chapter of the Jing is cited to clarify the meaning: names disperse without limit; this is what is meant by “the constant Dao cannot be named.”

The nameless is the beginning of Heaven and Earth

Commentary: “Nameless” refers to the subtle source at the utmost limit of emptiness, before any name has been imposed upon it. At the beginning, this subtle source had no name—not even the name “nameless.” From the source, Qi descended, opening up Heaven and Earth. Heaven and Earth drew upon one another as their beginning; therefore it is called “the nameless is the beginning of Heaven and Earth.”

Meaning: The Great Dao breathes out Qi and spreads it through the void, becoming the original source of Heaven and Earth. The terms “nonbeing” and “nameless” are discussed in the “Heaven and Earth” chapter of the Zhuangzi: “In the Great Beginning there was nonbeing; there was no name for nonbeing.” (The Great Beginning is the beginning of nonbeing. Since it has no name, one cannot forcibly demand a name for it. It is indistinct and still, remote, and the ruler of transformation. Original Qi draws upon it as its beginning, and mysterious transformation receives its endowment and comes to life.) Hence the saying, “the nameless is the beginning of Heaven and Earth.” After the nameless and unclassified state, traces descended and gradually brought forth the first signs of form; from this, Heaven and Earth came into being and the patterns of Qi were established.

Commentary: In the Book of Changes, the Supreme Ultimate gives rise to the Two Modes; the Two Modes give rise to the Three Powers; and the Three Powers give rise to the myriad things. According to the Erya, “beginning” means “origin.”

Meaning: The Supreme Ultimate already has form and substance. Once form and substance are present, they divide into the Two Modes. Human beings live among them, and thus constitute the Three Powers. The Erya was composed by the Duke of Zhou to teach King Cheng to recognize the names of birds, beasts, plants, and trees; to understand the principles underlying glosses and interpretations; and to distinguish things that are identical in substance but differ in name. It became a bridge to the Nine Schools and a key to the Six Arts, a deep pool of learning for scholars and a garden of eloquence for writers. It arose in the middle antiquity and flourished under the Han dynasty. “Middle antiquity” distinguishes that period from high antiquity and later antiquity. Since the Erya flourished under the Han, the period before the Han is called high antiquity, and the period after the Han, later antiquity.

General meaning of the scripture

The ideas discussed by the ancients also belong to the period after the Five Emperors and between the Three Kings. Thus the Appended Statements of the Classic of Changes says: “The one who made the Changes probably lived in the middle antiquity.”

“The named is the mother of the myriad things.”

Commentary: The “unnamed” refers to the wondrous source—the root of the Dao, its formless body. The wondrous source manifests as Qi (vital energy), which initiates and governs Heaven and Earth. Heaven and Earth thereby come into being, so this is called the “unnamed.” The “named” refers to the wondrous working of the Dao, its capacity to respond to events. Like a craftsperson, it brings the myriad things to completion and nourishes them. Since the myriad things receive nourishment from it, it is called the “named.”

Explanatory commentary: The “named” is the wondrous working of the Dao, its practical application. When this application takes effect, names are provisionally established for it. Once the transformations are complete and the myriad things have come into being, the wondrous source extends everywhere, providing for human use. Because it nurtures the myriad things, it is called the “mother.” “Mother” means flourishing nourishment. Thus “unnamed” and “named” are terms the sages adopted to explain, through their functions, the sameness and difference between source and manifestation. The Dao itself, however, is not bound by being named or unnamed.

Interpretation: “The myriad transformations” emphasizes their great number; “the various things” means all beings. The Dao is present in every one of them: even in the finest autumn hair, the Dao resides. Thus it can give rise to the Three Powers and be the mother of the myriad things. When the Dao is within them, things live; when the Dao departs, they die. Is this not the fullest form of nurturing? The Great Dao has neither sameness nor difference, neither source nor manifestation. Only when teachings are provisionally established do source and manifestation become apparent.

“Always without desire, one observes its subtlety; always with desire, one observes its limits.”

Commentary: To be still from birth is human nature; to be stirred by contact with things is desire arising from that nature. If one constantly maintains stillness and purity, releases the mind and calms the spirit, and reflects inwardly on one’s true nature, one can observe the wondrous source. But if one fails to follow one’s nature and instead acts on desire, then desire obscures one’s nature and one loses sight of the source of the Dao. In seeking to observe the wondrous source, one sees only its limits—its boundaries and outward signs.

Explanatory commentary: “Desire” is the stirring of one’s nature: the mind arises as it pursues external circumstances. The passage says that if a person is always without desire, keeps their true nature pure and still, and reflects inwardly on the source of the Dao, they can see the wondrous source. But if they are always full of desire and the mind arises in pursuit of external circumstances, desire unsettles their nature. Trying to perceive the source through desire, they lose its harmony and calm, seeing only its limits. “Limits” means boundaries.

Interpretation: When a calculating mind is harbored within, one’s pure brightness is no longer whole, one’s spiritual virtue is incomplete, and the person who seeks to preserve their life is no longer at peace. This is what it means to have desire. When the wish to harm others is forgotten within, one can tread on a tiger’s tail without fear—how much less need one fear other people? This is what it means to be without desire. Those with desire rely on their eyes and ears to see and hear, and exhaust their minds in reasoning as though it were sound principle. The more they see and hear, the more confused they become; the more they reason, the more disorder they create. This is what it means to see only the limits.

A Broad Explication of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue: A Plain-Language Interpretation

Freedom from desire and contemplating the subtle

Those without selfish desires can unite their spirit with emptiness and bring their breath into accord with “nonbeing.” They can reach everywhere and penetrate everything, sharing in the work of Heaven and Earth. This is what it means to accord with “great pervasion,” and to be able to “contemplate its subtlety.” “Contemplate” means using the eyes to survey things outwardly, and using spiritual awareness to perceive fine details inwardly. Sight distinguishes being from nonbeing; spiritual illumination enters into stillness and mystery.

The Record of Music says, “Human beings are born in a state of stillness; this is their nature given by Heaven.” This means that human nature is originally still and pure, without desire or striving. Once people are stirred by external things and desires arise from their circumstances, external influences move them inwardly. Can they afford to be careless about what they allow to affect them? Thus the sages established laws to guard against wrongdoing, rituals to prevent disorder, punishments to prevent transgressions, and music to prevent excess. They used the Dao to restrain desire and taught the people to honor De and turn toward goodness.

“The two emerge together but have different names”

Commentary: The two aspects discussed above both derive from the Dao, so they are said to be “together.” They move and emerge, responding to circumstances and serving different purposes; their names are assigned according to their use, so the names differ.

Explanation: This passage continues the discussion above. “The two” refers to paired concepts such as “the Dao that can be spoken and the Dao that cannot be spoken,” “the name that can be named and the name that cannot be named,” “namelessness and having a name,” and “freedom from desire and having desire.” Each pair consists of “two,” hence the phrase “the two.” They all receive their source from the subtle foundation, so they are “together.” As they descend from the source and are named according to their uses, their names differ.

Meaning: When the One Qi divides, the ten thousand transformations arise; when forms and signs take shape, the myriad things come into being. Each of these three transformations gives rise to a pair. This is how being emerges from nonbeing. When the Dao becomes manifest, names are established; once names are established, desire arises. Thus the first signs of “a Dao that can be spoken of, a name that can be given, and a desire that can arise” appear. This is the emergence of traces from the source. To gather the traces and return to the source, one must abandon desire and forget names, returning to the subtle foundation; one must forget the Dao in relation to the Dao, and forget names in relation to names. This is returning to the source. But if one follows one’s feelings, forgets the source, and pursues desire into ruin, there is little point in speaking further of the ultimate Dao.

“Together they are called the Mysterious”

Commentary: In their emergence, their names differ; in their unity, they are called the Mysterious. “Mysterious” means profound and subtle.

Explanation: To speak of their emergence is to speak of how their names differ: these are traces descending from the source. To speak of their unity is to speak of the profound subtlety that gathers those traces and returns them to the source. Returning to the source is profound and subtle, and is therefore called the Mysterious.

Meaning: Those with desire and those without desire alike receive the Qi of Heaven and Earth, along with its balanced and nourishing essence. Those who receive clear and harmonious Qi may become sages and worthies, practicing Wuwei; those who receive turbid and disordered Qi become deluded. Whether wise or foolish, all share the same original nature. Only by maintaining freedom from desire and entering into accord with the Mysterious can one fulfill the meaning of “together they are called the Mysterious.”

The foolish person with many desires, if able to cleanse the heart, change their thoughts, clarify desires, and embrace emptiness, becomes one who gathers up outward traces and returns to the root. When people can cultivate themselves, the customs of the world will naturally grow gentle and harmonious, and the way of returning to simplicity can reach the age of high antiquity.

Mystery upon mystery: the gateway to all wonders

When causes do not arise, this accords with mystery and wonder. Yet there is concern that clinging to the mysterious may lead to stagnation, preventing one from letting go of both. Thus “mystery upon mystery” is invoked to dispel the mysterious, showing that within freedom from desire one must no longer cling to seeking freedom from desire. When this is achieved, the myriad teachings are understood and emerge from here; hence it is called the gateway to all wonders.

Commentary: Gathering up outward traces and returning to the root is called profound mystery. If one abides in this mystery, traces remain, and it is no different from what is given another name. Therefore “mystery upon mystery” is invoked to dispel the mysterious, so that one does not stagnate in mystery, but forgets both the root and its traces. This is called non-abiding; through non-abiding, understanding emerges.

Note: “The cause in the mind” is explained in the Scripture of the Western Ascension, which says, “They emerge together but bear different names; each form arises of itself.” The cause in the mind makes them not arise. The cause in the mind accords with mystery and wonder. “Freedom from desire within freedom from desire” means that, because a mind of desire arises, one seeks freedom from desire; seeking freedom from desire has not yet left the mind of desire. Once there is neither desire nor freedom from desire, one lets go again and again; this may be called complete forgetting.

Explanation: Having gathered up traces and forgotten names, one has attained the wondrous. Fearing stagnation in the wondrous, one forgets it in turn. Thus both root and traces are forgotten; then one forgets this forgetting as well, and accords with the Dao. Once desire has been dispelled, freedom from desire is also forgotten. One does not stagnate in existence or nonexistence, nor cling to the Middle Way. This is to accord with complete forgetting.

Commentary on Correct Contemplation: If this is what is meant by “all wonders,” then although the wonders are many, they all emerge from this gateway. Hence it is called “the gateway to all wonders.”

Explanation: The gateway to all wonders is the Gate of Heaven. “Gate of Heaven” is a general name for the source from which the myriad teachings arise. “Nonexistence”—that is, the myriad things emerge from nonexistence and return to nonexistence; they gather and disperse, hide and appear, and so are said to enter and emerge. These are merely names: in reality there is no gate. Thus it is called the gate of Wuwei (non-action), which is no gate at all. A gate without a door or chamber, open in all four directions—this is a return to the wondrous Dao. Correct contemplation is the gradual realization through cultivation, the steps by which one reaches the Dao. Earlier, “seeing with the eyes” meant contemplation as looking and observing; “illumination by the spirit” meant contemplation as conduct and practice. The Dao uses the teachings of the Three Vehicles, arranged in stages, to transform people, from the initial arousal of aspiration onward…

A Plain-Language Interpretation

To attain the Supreme Dao, leave behind the ordinary world, and enter the state of the sage, the scripture sets out fourteen gates of contemplative practice (fourteen levels of meditation). The three contemplations of the initial Lesser Vehicle are: first, contemplation of provisional phenomena (maintaining one’s composure amid sensory objects); second, contemplation of real phenomena (the mind illuminates reality as it is); and third, contemplation of all-pervading emptiness (entering Wuwei, or non-action). The Middle Vehicle has four gates: contemplation of impermanence, entering permanence, entering what is not impermanent, and entering what is beyond permanence. The Greater Vehicle has four gates: contemplation of wondrous existence, wondrous nonexistence, repeated mystery, and what is beyond repeated mystery. The sagely path has three more: contemplation of true emptiness, true penetration, and true nonexistence. Through these contemplative practices, one refines the mind, moving from existence into nonexistence and from the coarse to the subtle. Having attained the subtle, one forgets the subtle and thereby accords with the gate of Wuwei. Wuwei and action can both be spoken of; the constant Dao brings its essence and function together, and its principle is quite clear.

The gate of essence and function has five distinctions. First, Wuwei is the essence and action is the function: what can be spoken of is the essence—the Dao itself has no name—while what can be named is the function, since naming involves existence. Second, existence is the essence and Wuwei the function: a room, a carriage, and a vessel have existence as their essence and emptiness as their function. Third, Wuwei is both essence and function: the natural is the essence, and conditions are the function, yet both return to nonexistence. Fourth, existence is both essence and function: Heaven and Earth are the essence, and the myriad things are the function; both belong to existence. Fifth, neither existence nor nonexistence is the essence, and neither existence nor nonexistence is the function: the Dao is the essence and De (Virtue/Power) is the function.

The gate of root and trace has two distinctions: Wuwei as root and existence as trace (the nameless and the named); and existence as root and Wuwei as trace. These illuminate one another: the myriad things arise in existence and ultimately return to nonexistence.

The mysterious source is clear and still; the wondrous root lies in profound obscurity. It cannot be sought through words and images, nor grasped through existence or nonexistence. Therefore teachings must be established to guide ordinary people and show them these stages. Yet those who quiet their minds and attain resonance must follow their own capacities, whether gradual or sudden. They must not become fixated on teachings or cling to the written word, nor be confined by the outward forms of learning. Those who cleanse the mind and bathe in De should strive diligently.

Volume Six: The Essentials of Essence and Function, Root and Trace, and the Fourteen Contemplative Practices

Five distinctions of essence and function: Wuwei as essence and action as function; existence as essence and Wuwei as function; both nonexistence; both existence; neither existence nor nonexistence.

Two distinctions of root and trace: Wuwei as root and existence as trace; existence as root and Wuwei as trace.

End of Volume Six