《南華真經註疏》Vol. 17

Deliberately honing the will, admiring moral integrity, leaving the world behind and standing apart from ordinary society, making lofty pronouncements, resenting the age and ridiculing its customs—these are simply ways of pushing one’s aspirations to an extreme.

Such practices appeal to recluses in the valleys, people who withdraw from the world, and those who would rather waste away in hardship or even cast themselves into the depths.

Commentary: “Deliberately” means carving and honing; “will” means the mind’s resolve; “extreme” means going too far. This passage refers to people with rigid views who have not yet grasped the Great Dao. They labor to discipline mind and body, hold up their conduct as exemplary, and live apart from others. They speak idly of the Five Emperors’ moral example and make lofty pronouncements about the Three Sovereigns’ teachings. They resent having talent without being given important posts and ridicule the age as lawless and debauched. They entrust their aspirations to forests and springs, disappearing beneath mountain cliffs. These are the scholars who withdraw into the valleys, not ordinary people who merely criticize the times. Those who would rather waste away and die include Bao Jiao and Jie Zitui; those who cast themselves into the depths include Shentu Di and Bian Sui. These people each cling to one side of the matter. How could they be fit to discuss the ultimate Dao? “And that is all” means their practice goes no further than this.

Speaking of benevolence and righteousness, loyalty and trustworthiness, respectfulness and frugality, and modesty and deference, and treating these as cultivation—nothing more. Such practices appeal to scholars in times of peace, people who educate others, and those who travel to study and teach.

Commentary: When they speak, what they discuss is benevolence and righteousness; they make these methods the basis of self-cultivation. This is what scholars and educators do in a well-ordered age, as Zixia taught in the region of the Xi River and Confucius (Xuanni) taught between the Zhu and Si rivers. Some travel about discussing learning; others settle down and teach. These are the pursuits favored by students, not the foremost goals of Daoists.

Speaking of establishing great achievements and earning great fame, emphasizing the rites between ruler and minister and setting the proper order between those above and below, and using these principles to govern the state—nothing more. Such practices appeal to court officials, those who honor the ruler and strengthen the state, and those who win merit by expanding their territory and annexing other states.

Commentary: They establish achievements that benefit all under Heaven and earn renown across the ages. They emphasize the full rites between ruler and minister and the principles for governing all under Heaven. They stabilize the state and uphold the constant Way; then they honor the ruler, bring distant peoples into submission, strengthen their own state, and annex rival states. Are these not the ministers of the court and the ancestral temple? Gao Yao, Yi Yin, and Lü Wang were among this kind of person.

Going to lakes, marshes, and open country, and living in spacious, quiet places; fishing in one’s free time and dwelling at ease, practicing Wuwei (non-action)—that is all. Such practices appeal to recluses by rivers and seas, people who withdraw from the world, and those who live in leisure.

They lived in seclusion among the mountains, forests, lakes, and marshes, at ease and free. Sometimes they fished for their own pleasure, keeping clear of worldly affairs and following things as they naturally unfolded. The Son of Heaven could not treat them as ministers, and the feudal lords could not treat them as friends. Unhurried and carefree, they were hermits like Chaofu, Xuyou, and Gongyuexiu.

They breathed in and out, expelling the stale Qi within and drawing in fresh Qi. They also imitated bears climbing trees and birds stretching their bodies, in the hope of prolonging their lives. Such practices were favored by practitioners of daoyin (exercises that cultivate the breath and body through breathing and movement), people who cared for their health, and long-lived figures like Pengzu.

Commentary: These people each had their own preferences, choosing different ways of life according to their interests. This, too, is one expression of being free and at ease. Yet each was satisfied only in their own way; they had not reached the point of being content in any circumstance. For all things to rest in their proper place without losing their nature, one should leave everything to nature rather than insist on managing it.

Explanatory note: Breathing out means expelling the stale Qi within; drawing breath in gently means taking in fresh Qi. Hanging and moving like a bear climbing a tree, and stretching the legs and feet like a bird in flight, are methods of cultivating the breath and nourishing body and spirit in order to prolong life. Tradition says that Pengzu lived for eight hundred years and Master Baishi for three thousand; both were long-lived. The people mentioned earlier had different aims, each confined to one aspect, and had not yet attained comprehensive understanding. Only by not striving deliberately and following nature can one grasp the profound and mysterious principle.

If one does not strive deliberately, one’s cultivation will nonetheless become lofty. Without clinging to the name of benevolence and righteousness, one can still cultivate oneself. Without pursuing fame and achievement, the world can still be well governed. Without retreating to distant rivers and seas, one can still live in quiet ease. Without practicing daoyin, one can still enjoy a long life.

Commentary: This is what it means to follow nature.

One can both forget everything and embrace all things.

Commentary: Because one can forget, one can contain all things. If one insists on holding on to something, one cannot free oneself from attachment to it. Thus, this “having” is not deliberate possession; it is what naturally appears once attachment has been forgotten.

Explanatory note: Those who understand change and accord with what is true do not strive deliberately, yet the Dao becomes more profound. They do not cling to the name of benevolence and righteousness, yet continually cultivate themselves. They forget fame and achievement, yet the world is well governed. They need not withdraw from human society and live beside distant rivers and seas to be detached and at ease. They need not practice daoyin to enjoy a long life. Such people forget both all things and themselves, and all things naturally turn toward them; therefore, there is nothing they cannot embrace. This is possession that arises naturally after forgetting, not something gained through deliberate pursuit.

When the mind is detached and tranquil, with no limit, every kind of goodness follows.

Commentary: If one forces oneself to pursue something, the mind cannot truly be free of impediment; troubles and faults will arise as well.

Explanatory note: The mind does not cling to any single aspect, and one’s conduct accords with the principles of the Five Phases. Therefore…

When one is empty, open, and free from deliberate action, one’s Dao has no end; every kind of fine De (Virtue/Power) also arises from within.

This is the Dao by which Heaven and Earth operate, and the De of the sage.

[Commentary] Without deliberate contrivance, all things grow naturally: this is the work of Heaven and Earth. Without deliberately promoting various actions, a hundred kinds of affairs come naturally to completion: this is the work of the sage.

[Explanation] Heaven and Earth have no intention of deliberately creating things, yet all things grow naturally. The sage has no intention of deliberately transforming people, yet the people’s many activities come naturally to completion. Thus Heaven and Earth, acting without a mind of their own, bring forth all things: this is the Dao. The sage, through Wuwei (non-action), brings affairs to completion: this is De. That is why the Laozi says, “Heaven and Earth are not benevolent; the sage is not benevolent.” Here, “not benevolent” means that Heaven and Earth and the sage do not favor all things or all people out of private preference.

Therefore it is said: calm detachment, stillness, emptiness, and Wuwei are the foundation of Heaven and Earth’s harmony, and the essence of Dao and De.

[Commentary] Without the state of stillness and Wuwei, the harmony of Heaven and Earth would be endangered, and the essence of Dao and De would be lost.

[Explanation] Calm detachment and stillness describe a mind that is settled, tranquil, and profound. Emptiness and Wuwei describe a wisdom that is quiet and does not act rashly. Heaven and Earth take this state as the source of their harmony; Dao and De take it as their true foundation.

Therefore it is said: When the sage is at ease and content, he can move through the world with calm and composure.

[Commentary] If one rests in calm detachment and stillness, and abides in emptiness and Wuwei, then even through hardship, danger, and all manner of change, one can remain steady and composed, without finding anything impossible to manage.

[Explanation] Let the mind rest in calm detachment, and let wisdom settle into emptiness: then one can meet hardship with ease and remain steady amid danger.

When one moves through the world with calm and composure, one can be calmly detached.

[Commentary] Worry arises from deliberate action, and deliberate action can also arise from worry. Calm composure and calm detachment therefore reinforce each other.

[Explanation] It is not only that a calm and detached mind enables one to move through the world with calm and composure; moving through the world with calm and composure also makes the mind calm and detached. We can see from this that the two reinforce each other.

With calm composure, calm detachment, and quiet stillness, worry cannot enter, and harmful Qi cannot intrude.

[Commentary] The mind is clear and moves in accord with what is right.

[Explanation] Once the mind is calm and detached and one’s conduct is calm and composed, both the inner state and outward behavior are equally free from deliberate action. Deep worries and burdens therefore cannot enter the mind, and harmful or demonic Qi cannot intrude into the organs. “Intrude” means to enter. The phrasing here interchanges the terms: both worry and harmful Qi are said to be unable to enter, inwardly or outwardly.

Thus his De remains whole, and his spirit is not diminished.

[Commentary] If the mind is neither calm nor detached, how could the damage be limited to the body? Inner spirit and De would be lost as well.

[Explanation] For someone who is calm, detached, and free from deliberate action, it is not only the outer body that escapes harm; inwardly as well…

When virtue (De) is complete, the body is preserved; when virtue is secure, the spirit (Shen) is not depleted or worn down.

Therefore it is said that the sage, in life, moves as the Way of Heaven moves. The commentary says: this is movement that simply follows nature.

In death, the sage transforms as the myriad things transform. The commentary says: the sage sheds the body lightly, with nothing left to cling to. The subcommentary explains: the sage understands that labor and rest are not truly different, and comprehends that coming and going are one body. Thus living is like the turning of the Way of Heaven, and dying is like the transformation of all things. The sage lets the process of creation and transformation forge them, as a smith casts a vessel, and harbors not the slightest resentment in the heart.

In stillness, the sage shares the virtue of Yin (the yin qi); in movement, rises and undulates together with Yang (the yang qi). The commentary says: neither movement nor stillness is contrived; everything is left to Yin-Yang to govern of its own accord. The subcommentary explains: when the sage gathers the spirit and calms thought, they share in the vast virtue of Great Yin; when they move in response to outer stimuli, they ripple together with yang qi. Both movement and stillness accord with the seasons, free of scheming intent.

The sage does not rush ahead to precede good fortune, nor start the beginning of misfortune; they respond only after being stirred. The commentary says: this means that one does not first issue a call oneself. The subcommentary explains: if one treats doing good as the forerunner of fortune and doing evil as the beginning of misfortune, then once good and evil are both cast aside, fortune and misfortune are alike forgotten. Responding only after being stirred, how could one become a forerunner or a beginning?

The sage acts only when pressed. The commentary says: this means moving only when the moment arrives. The subcommentary explains: "pressed" means arriving or drawing near, and "moving" means responding. One answers others without leading, and responds only when the moment comes.

The sage rises only when there is truly no alternative. The commentary says: one rises in accord with the principle of things; it is that I cannot do otherwise. The subcommentary explains: "alternative" here means stopping, that is, the point at which one can no longer hold back. When the moment and the stimulus connect, and events reach the point where they cannot be halted, one rises. Such a response is not planned in advance.

The sage discards cleverness, intellect, and deliberate contrivance, and follows the principle of Heaven. The commentary says: the principle of Heaven is natural, so cleverness and contrivance have no place in it. The subcommentary explains: "follow" means to comply. Inwardly one removes the discriminations of the mind; outwardly one forgets the tumult of worldly affairs. Like primal chaos, one practices Wuwei (non-action) and accords with the profound principle of nature.

Therefore the sage suffers no calamity from Heaven. The commentary says: calamity arises from violating the Way of Heaven. The subcommentary explains: being in harmony with Heaven, the sage has no calamity.

The sage bears no burden from external things. The commentary says: burdens arise from resisting things. The subcommentary explains: being in accord with things, the sage has no burden.

The sage suffers no blame from others. The commentary says: when many people are the same as someone, people regard that person as right. The subcommentary explains: being in harmony with others, the sage meets no blame.

The sage suffers no punishment from ghosts and spirits. The commentary says: because the sage is the same as the Way they have attained within themselves, there is no punishment.

The sage's life is like floating; their death is like resting. The commentary says: this is drifting along in accord with things, with nothing to regret. The subcommentary explains: the sage has no scheming intent in movement or stillness, and life and death are as one body. Thus life is like a bubble that briefly rises on the water and vanishes in an instant, and death is like rest after weariness, with no attachment or lingering at all.

He makes no plans or calculations in advance, leaving everything to the natural order of things—their own inherent patterns. His mind is like cooling ashes, no longer drawn along by external influences or wandering thoughts.

He does not arrange or scheme ahead of time. When something comes before him, he responds in keeping with the circumstances and their natural logic. It is like a bright mirror hanging in a great hall: when an object comes before it, the mirror reflects it, but does not plan in advance what it will reflect. In the same way, this person responds only when events arise and does not plot ahead.

Though he has the clarity to discern all things, he does not show it off. This clarity accords with the discernment already present in all things under Heaven; it is not self-display. His wisdom may outshine the sun and moon, yet remains hidden and does not flaunt itself.

Though he can inspire trust, he makes no agreements in advance. This trust arises naturally among all things under Heaven; it is not deliberately demanded. When the moment for action comes, he responds and acts, like a shadow following a form. The four seasons, too, follow their inevitable patterns, yet make no prior arrangements: they respond when their time comes.

When he sleeps, he does not dream; when he wakes, he has no worries. He accords with the true Dao, and his mind is settled and quiet, so dreams do not disturb him. The burdens in his heart have fallen away, and he is therefore always at ease and free of worry.

His spirit is pure and undivided, free of stray thoughts and desires. His hun and shen do not grow weary, for desire is what causes fatigue. Calm, detached, and inactive, he rests in spirit; so even when he responds to events, he does not tire.

Only through emptiness, stillness, freedom from desire, and calm detachment can one accord with the De of Heaven—that is, with the calm and natural De of Heaven and Earth.

Sorrow and joy show that one’s De has strayed from its proper course. When things go against one’s heart, one feels sorrow; when they go as one wishes, one feels joy. If one does not understand that adversity and good fortune are merely external circumstances, one falls into this imbalance.

Pleasure and anger show that one has turned away from the Dao. When things suit one, one is pleased; when they do not, one grows angry. To be continually moved by pleasure and anger is to stray from the Dao.

Likes and dislikes show that one has lost some of one’s De. To take something as pleasing without cause, and then to find something else hateful without cause, is deluded thinking and a failing of De.

So, to keep the heart unmoved by sorrow or joy is to bring De to its utmost. The person of utmost De is always at ease within; emotions are not stirred by external things. Neither pleased nor angry, neither worried nor joyful, the mind remains calm and empty.

To remain undivided and unchanged is to bring stillness to its utmost. One holds fast to the wondrous Dao of truth with undivided attention, unchanged even amid the clamor of the world. How could this be possible without stillness at its utmost?

To be in conflict with nothing at all is to bring emptiness and stillness to their utmost.

His mind suddenly opened into clarity, truly clear and bright, with not the slightest resistance within it.

“Resisting” means going against something. To be able to accord with all things and all beings, and to oppose nothing, requires a state of extreme emptiness, stillness, and openness.

Having no dealings with external things is detachment carried to its utmost.

[Commentary] External things naturally come to one’s side. Extreme detachment means that the heart harbors no feelings that would draw it into contact or entanglement with them.

[Exegesis] Keep to one’s proper place, remain quiet and self-contained, have no dealings with external things, and depend on nothing outside oneself: this is tranquility brought to its utmost.

To feel no resistance toward anything is purity carried to its utmost.

[Commentary] If turbid desires are mixed in, there will be things one cannot accord with.

[Exegesis] When wisdom is clear and refined, and one’s nature is unified and free of admixture, one can become one with all things and accord with all beings. As for “resisting” and “opposing,” their meaning is essentially the same. They are distinguished here to bring out the two qualities of emptiness and stillness, and of purity.

Thus it is said: when the body is worn out and given no rest, it declines; when the spirit is continually expended without knowing when to stop, it grows weary. Worn out to the extreme, it is depleted.

[Commentary] All things have their proper limits; one must not exceed them.

[Exegesis] The body and spirit that a person receives are finite, while the labor and expenditure demanded of them have no end; this inevitably drives one toward death. If one overworks the body without knowing how to rest, weakness and decline will follow. If the spirit pursues external things without knowing when to stop, it too will inevitably suffer harm. When the spirit is harmed, Jing and Qi are depleted.

By nature, water remains clear when it is not mixed with impurities, and still when it is not disturbed. If it is blocked and enclosed so that it cannot flow, it cannot remain clear. This is an image of the De of Heaven (natural virtue).

[Commentary] To say that it is an image of the De of Heaven means that it has no private intent, yet naturally accords with all things.

[Exegesis] “Image” means to take as a model, to emulate. Water is clear and still, and can reflect all things as they are. If it is muddied or its flow blocked, its constant nature is violated: it can neither flow freely nor reflect all things. Only when it is undisturbed and unblocked can water remain clear and still, perceive everything plainly without partiality, and serve as a model for all things. This is an image of the De of Heaven. The passage uses this to explain that the sage’s heart is empty, still, and clear, perceiving all things without selfishness. Taking nature as a model, the sage unites in De with the wondrous Dao of Heaven. Thus the Laozi says, “The highest good is like water.”

Thus it is said: pure and unmixed.

[Commentary] Nothing departs from the proper measure.

[Exegesis] Even while living among ordinary people and entering the dusty world, one’s inner spirit remains settled and clear. This further explains what was said earlier about the spirit being pure.

Still, settled, and unified, without change.

[Commentary] Always abiding in the proper state.

[Exegesis] Even as worldly affairs change in countless ways, the heart remains constant in stillness, settledness, and unity. This further explains “unified without change.”

Detached, with nothing forced.

[Commentary] Simply accord with the convergences and changes of things, without adding deliberate action.

Even while living in the world and adapting to its customs, one can keep the heart inwardly empty, still, and free of attachment while engaging with external things. This does not violate Wuwei (non-action). It is what was earlier called the utmost calm and serenity.

In one’s actions, follow what is natural.

If one acts in pursuit of desire, one is acting at the behest of personal wants.

When touched by external things, respond in keeping with the situation, yet hold no fixed intention. This is like the movement of the Great Dao. To give life to the myriad things without deliberation is the way to nourish the Shen (spirit).

In sum, the methods discussed earlier, such as following the Way of Heaven, are paths for cultivating oneself and nourishing the spirit.

There is a sword of Gan and Yue—an esteemed blade said to come from Gan Creek or Yue Mountain, though some say “Gan” refers to the state of Wu. People keep it safely in its scabbard and dare not use it lightly, because they treasure it so greatly. How much more, then, should a person refrain from lightly exhausting their own spirit?

The spirit reaches in all directions and flows without obstruction; there is nowhere it cannot go. It rises to the edge of Heaven and descends into the depths of Earth.

When a person can comprehend the utmost reaches of Heaven and Earth and respond to the transformations of the myriad things, the spirit can attain such a state. If one can bring about the work of nourishing Heaven and Earth, this too comes from following what is natural, not from lightly exhausting the spirit.

The spirit flows without hindrance, reaching upward to the dark heavens and downward into the depths of Earth. It extends everywhere, in all directions, above and below. Though it can move with things, within it remains still; this is not a matter of recklessly exhausting the spirit.

The transformation and nurture of the myriad things cannot be defined by any fixed form.

It transforms and nurtures the myriad things without following any fixed method.

Guiding living beings and nurturing the myriad things, it responds to the circumstances of each thing without clinging to a single way. Therefore, it cannot be confined to any fixed form.

This state is called “being one with the Emperor.”

“Being one with the Emperor” means sharing the Emperor of Heaven’s state of Wuwei.

“Emperor” can also mean to examine and verify. Here, the passage sums up what came before: it speaks of discerning the Way of Nature. It may also mean sharing the Emperor of Heaven’s state of Wuwei.

The pure and simple Dao requires only that one devote oneself to guarding the spirit. Guard it and do not lose it, and one can become one with the spirit.

Always preserve a pure and unadorned heart, abiding in utter stillness without being disturbed by external things. Then one can reach a state of deep union with the Dao.

Cultivating the pure and simple Dao (the Way) means only guarding the spirit. When the spirit is guarded and allowed to disperse, it settles into stillness; the body then becomes like withered wood, the mind like cold ashes. The self and things are forgotten, and body and spirit unite as one.

Once body and mind are united, the subtle essence of the spirit can reach through and accord with the constant principles of nature.

Note: “Essence” refers to the true nature of things.

Commentary: “Principles” refers to what is constant. When essence and spirit unite, clear intelligence is unobstructed, and so it can merge with the principles of nature.

As the saying goes: “Ordinary people prize wealth and profit; the upright prize fame; the worthy esteem integrity and resolve; the sage cherishes the spirit.”

Note: To unite with the spirit does not mean deliberately guarding it; to avoid distancing oneself from essence does not mean deliberately treating essence as precious. The heart of the Dao lies in cherishing and protecting the spirit.

Commentary: Zhuangzi compares the interests and pursuits of different people, summarizing them in four broad categories and using a saying from country folk to explain them. These categories are generalizations, not absolute rules for everyone. Ordinary people tend to prize wealth and profit, like Robber Zhi. Upright and simple people prize fame, like Boyi and Jie Zitui. Worthy gentlemen esteem lofty integrity and refuse to yield to worldly conventions, like Xu You and Zizhou Zhibo. Only sages who have realized the Great Dao avoid attachment to any one side. They can therefore cherish the spirit without being disturbed by external things; even as they adapt to changing circumstances, they do not lose their simple, genuine nature.

“Unadulterated” means not mixed with external things; “pure” means that the spirit is not depleted.

Note: If “pure” means “not depleted,” then even someone with every virtue and the ability to respond to countless changes may still be called pure. If “unadulterated” means “not mixed with external things,” then even someone with splendid appearance and exceptional bearing may still be called unadulterated. Conversely, if someone cannot preserve their natural nature and instead mixes it with outward adornment, how could they be called pure and simple, even if they were dressed in dog or sheep skins?

Commentary: To live amid the complexity of worldly affairs without being mixed up with external things is to be utterly simple. To pass through all the changes of a noisy, bustling world without the spirit being depleted is to be utterly pure. The Way of purity and simplicity does not require a person to live alone atop a high mountain or sit quietly in a forest. This passage sums up and explains the meaning of the “Way of purity and simplicity” mentioned earlier.

Those who can understand and put into practice the principles of purity and simplicity are called “Realized Ones”—people who embody the Dao and preserve their natural nature.

Commentary: “Embody” means to realize and understand. Those who deeply accord with the principles of purity and simplicity can remain true wherever they are.

Such a person may be said to have truly grasped the Dao (the Way).

Collected Commentaries on the Nanhua Zhenjing, Volume 17