《南華真經註疏》Vol. 22

Zhuangzi was walking in the mountains when he saw a great tree with luxuriant branches and leaves. A woodcutter stopped beside it but did not cut it down. Zhuangzi asked why. The woodcutter replied, “This tree is of no use.”

Zhuangzi said, “Precisely because it is not fit for timber, it can live out its natural lifespan.”

The commentary explains: This tree is like the one by the winding road, and like the great tree at Shangqiu. Because it is not fit for timber and has no use, it can live to the end of its natural life.

Zhuangzi left the mountains and stayed at an old friend’s home.

The commentary explains: “Lodging” means staying overnight.

His old friend was delighted and told a servant to kill a goose and cook it.

The commentary explains: The disciples called Zhuangzi “Master”; “servant” refers to the household attendant.

The servant asked, “There are two geese. One can honk, and the other cannot. Which should we kill?” The host said, “Kill the one that cannot honk.”

The next day, a disciple asked Zhuangzi, “Yesterday, the tree in the mountains lived out its natural lifespan because it was not fit for timber. Now the host’s goose was killed because it was not fit for anything. Where will you place yourself, Master?”

Zhuangzi smiled and said, “I suppose I would place myself somewhere between being fit for timber and being unfit for it. But though this may seem appropriate, it does not truly accord with the Great Dao, so I would still be liable to trouble.”

The note explains: Zhuangzi is only saying that he intends to place himself here. Yet this still leaves him liable to trouble; in the end, he does not remain in this position.

The commentary explains: Being fit for timber means having something to offer; being unfit means having nothing to offer. To stand between the two may seem like following the middle way, but clinging to this “middle” is no different from clinging to either extreme. It only appears close to the Dao; it is not the true Dao, and one remains subject to trouble.

Those who follow the Dao and De and roam freely in the world are different.

The commentary explains: By riding the mysterious Dao and supreme De through the world, one can escape this predicament. One clings neither to being fit for timber nor to being unfit, and can even forget the thought of “standing in the middle.” The mind then becomes empty, tranquil, and open, able to meet the world freely.

They seek no praise and fear no blame. When the time comes to appear, they emerge like a dragon; when it is time to withdraw, they hide away like a snake.

The note explains: “Blame” means condemnation. “Dragon” refers to appearing and entering the world; “snake” refers to withdrawing and hiding away. The Dao is not constrained by the distinction between being fit for timber and being unfit for it, so praise and blame alike lose their basis.

They change along with the times.

The commentary explains: This means not clinging even to the middle. Once both extremes have been let go, one must also forget the middle. Letting go layer by layer leads to the realm of the mysterious beyond the mysterious.

And they do not insist on doing only one particular thing.

The commentary explains: The perfected person can transcend all fixed ways of speaking and is not confused by personal likes and dislikes, praise or blame. Like a dragon or snake, they advance and withdraw as circumstances change, transforming along with the times. How could they cling to one side and devote themselves to just one thing?

They can advance or withdraw with the times, take harmony as their measure, and roam freely amid the source of all things. The commentary explains: They take great harmony as their standard, make no distinctions of greater or lesser, and roam at the root of creation and transformation.

They can bring all things to completion without being ruled by external things. How could they become entangled? The commentary explains: If you do not let external things control you, you will have no troubles.

This was the principle followed by Shennong and the Yellow Emperor. The note says: Therefore, Zhuangzi too dwelled peacefully in this state. The commentary explains: Guo Xiang’s note says that Zhuangzi too dwelled peacefully in this state.

But the ordinary tendencies of all things and the inherited customs of human society are different. The commentary explains: This refers to the common practices followed in human relationships and worldly affairs, which differ from the principles described above.

What comes together will eventually part; what takes shape will eventually be destroyed. The upright are easily thwarted, while the honored readily gain glory and just as readily become the subject of gossip. Acting brings loss; the able are easily plotted against, while the unworthy are easily deceived. Such are the shifting fortunes of the world. How can anyone expect everything to remain fixed? Uprightness that does not fit worldly ways may bring injury instead; someone who is proud and prizes possessions, yet cannot bear disgrace, may also invite criticism.

The commentary explains: This passage discusses the many affairs of the world, including the worthy and the unworthy, to show that people should not become attached to a particular reputation. Cling to reputation, and you become caught up in success and failure, gain and loss.

How sad! Disciples, remember this: the true homecoming is perhaps found only in the homeland of Dao and De. The note says: The affairs of the world are unpredictable, so one must adapt to change rather than cling to a single way of acting. Only those who respond to each change without losing their ability to move freely can pass through every upheaval without obstruction. The commentary explains: To apply the principles of balance and uprightness is to dwell in the homeland of Dao and De.

Yinan of the South Market (of the Xiong clan, personal name Yiliao, who lived in seclusion in the South Market) paid a visit to the Marquis of Lu. The marquis looked troubled. Yinan of the South Market asked, “Why are you worried, my lord?” The marquis replied, “I study the Way of the former kings, carry on the work of my forebears, honor the spirits, and respect worthy people…”

The commentary explains: “Former kings” here refers to King Ji and King Wen; “forebears” refers to the Duke of Zhou and Boqin.

To put these principles into practice, one must not depart from them for even a moment.

Commentary: “Depart” means to scatter away; “dwell” means to settle in peace.

Yet troubles cannot ultimately be avoided, and so I worry about them. Nan Guozi said, “Your way of removing calamities is too shallow.”

Note: The ruler possesses the state and takes pride in that possession. Though his worries are countless, honoring the worthy and exalting virtue only deepen them.

Commentary: This means that honoring spirits and venerating the worthy does not truly remove calamities.

Foxes and leopards with thick fur and beautiful markings—

Commentary: Their fur is abundant, its patterns beautiful and its sheen pleasing to the eye. That is why people capture and make use of them.

They live in mountain forests and hide in rocky hollows, keeping quiet and concealed. They come out at night and hide by day, remaining cautious and on their guard. Even when hungry, thirsty, and exhausted, they still wait carefully by rivers and lakes. At daybreak, when no one is about, they call to one another and search for food among the dense plants.

Commentary: “On guard” means cautious; “wait carefully” means to consider the moment and wait; “daybreak” means dawn; “to one another” means all together. In other words, even when hungry and thirsty, they judge the moment, waiting until dawn, when no one is about, before calling to one another and searching for food by rivers and lakes and among the plants.

Even with such careful planning, they cannot escape the calamity of falling into nets and traps. What have they done wrong? Their fur alone has brought disaster upon them.

Commentary: “Traps and nets” are devices and gear for catching animals. The point is that, though they have planned carefully, they still cannot avoid the nets. They have done nothing else wrong; their fur and its coloring have brought calamity upon them.

Isn’t the state of Lu today just like your “fur”? I hope you can forget your body and yourself, let go of your attachment to the state, cleanse your heart and rid yourself of desire, then roam freely in a place untouched by human turmoil.

Note: This is a wish that the ruler will no longer cling to himself or to possession of the state, and will let all things change naturally.

Commentary: “Cut away the body” means to forget oneself; “shed the fur” means to forget one’s attachment to the state; “wash the heart” means to cleanse it of contrivance; and “rid oneself of desire” means to quiet one’s cravings. “A vast, uninhabited wilderness” refers to a state in accord with De, where things are allowed to follow their nature. Guo Xiang’s commentary likewise says that the ruler should forget himself and the state, and let all things change naturally.

In the southern lands of Yue there is a place called the Kingdom of Jiande.

Note: The distant southern land of Yue is used as a comparison to show how far it lies from Lu.

Commentary: It is said to be far from Lu, while its name suggests establishing the Way of Wuwei (non-action).

The people there are simple and free of scheming, with few private desires. They know how to farm, but not how to hoard wealth.

Commentary: “Work” means farming; “hoard” means storing up and accumulating. If a ruler embraces the Way, the people too will return to simplicity.

They give things to others without seeking anything in return. They do not know how to deliberately put righteousness into practice, or how to deliberately enforce ritual.

Commentary: Righteousness means what is fitting; “put into practice” means to carry out.

They act without scheming or following fixed conventions, living in unison with all things.

Commentary: “Unrestrained” means free of scheming and constraint; “acting without contrivance” means not deliberately arranging things, but acting naturally as one with the common world.

Then each person acts according to their own nature and follows their own steps. Everyone can take the path suited to them, and all the paths under Heaven can be traversed. Is that not vast indeed?

Commentary: The Dao means a path. Acting according to one’s nature, free of constraint, one may even appear unruly and unconventional, yet thereby set foot on the Great Dao.

In life, one can live at ease; after death, one can be laid to rest in peace.

Note: This means that one can dwell calmly in both life and death.

I hope you will leave the capital, cast off worldly preconceptions, and walk in mutual accord with the Dao.

Note: “Leaving the capital and casting off the worldly” means clearing away distracting thoughts from the mind.

Commentary: “Cast off” means to relinquish. In other words, let go of worldly views and walk together with the supreme Dao of Wuwei (non-action), supporting one another.

The ruler said, “That path is distant and perilous, with rivers and mountains in the way. I have neither boat nor carriage. What should I do?”

Note: “Southern Yue” here refers to a faraway land in the south.

Commentary: The ruler is still bound by the distinction between delusion and awakening, so he feels that the Dao is as far away as the states of Lu and Yue.

Shinan Zi said, “Do not put on an air of arrogance.”

Note: “Arrogant bearing” refers to pride in one’s posture; it can also suggest an impediment to moving forward.

Commentary: Do not rely on your high rank to display an arrogant manner.

And do not become stuck or hold fast to one place.

Note: “Staying put” means coming to a halt and clinging to a particular state.

Commentary: Respond to the changes in things; do not remain attached to ideas of splendor and honor.

Make the myriad things your carriage.

Note: When you regard yourself as one with the myriad things and let your mind change along with them, you can dwell among them and let them carry you.

The ruler said, “That path is deep and remote, and no one lives there. Who could keep me company? I have no provisions or food. How could I get there?”

Commentary: He has not yet understood that the myriad things transform on their own, so he still cannot forget external things.

Shinan Zi said, “Reduce your expenses and restrain your desires. Even without provisions, you will find enough.”

Note: As the saying goes, when you know contentment, nothing is lacking.

Commentary: The Dao does not depend on external things for its fulfillment; a tranquil mind is enough.

Just cross the river and drift out upon the sea.

Commentary: Here, the “river” refers to wisdom, and the “sea” to the Dao. Follow the current of profound wisdom into the ocean of the Great Dao.

Look out toward it, and you cannot see its bounds. The farther you go, the less you know where its end lies.

Note: This means that the farther one travels, the more one transcends the constraints of desire.

Commentary: How could you know where its end truly lies?

Those who escort you stop on the shore, then turn back.

Note: Once you resolve to depart, everyone goes back to their own place and attends to their own duties.

Commentary: After escorting you to the realm of Dao and De (Virtue/Power), they return to their respective places and keep to their proper bounds. “Shore” here refers to a boundary.

From this point on, you set out, far removed from the world of dust.

Note: This means that you will stand apart from the myriad things, transcending them.

“Since then” means that from that point onward the ruler became lofty in spirit, and the virtue he upheld appeared profound and remote.

Therefore, those who cling to possessions will be burdened by them.

Note: “Having possessions” means treating them as one’s private property.

Commentary: In governing the state of Lu, the ruler had ample wealth and a large population, yet regarded all of this as belonging to himself, and so was deeply weighed down by it.

Those who see others possessing things will also feel anxiety.

Note: “Seeing others possess things” means feeling that one is subject to others’ control and service.

Commentary: This means the ruler had not yet put aside affairs of state in Lu, and still felt himself subject to others—hence he revered spirits and honored the worthy, showed compassion for the people and relieved the multitude. To be a ruler yet feel oneself in others’ service—is that not a source of distress?

Therefore Yao neither treated the realm as his private possession nor felt himself subject to others’ control.

Note: Though Yao held the realm, he entrusted affairs to the hundred officials and let all things run their course without his own meddling—this is not treating the realm as one’s own. He followed the people and allowed each thing to develop on its own, without letting himself be pressed into service—this is not feeling subject to others.

Commentary: Guo Xiang comments: Though Yao possessed the realm, he entrusted affairs to the hundred officials and let all things run their course without his own meddling, and so did not treat the realm as his own; he followed the people and let each thing develop on its own without letting himself be pressed into service, and so did not feel subject to others.

I wish you to cast off the burdens of rulership, dispel your anxieties, and roam together with the Dao alone in the “Land of Great Nothingness” (the vast realm of emptiness).

Note: This is meant to make your heart utterly free of cares, no longer preoccupied with state affairs.

Commentary: “Great Mo” means “great nothingness”—that is, nothing in the realm can disturb you.

When two boats cross side by side, an empty boat bumps yours—even if you are narrow-minded and quick-tempered, you will not grow angry.

Commentary: “Bian” means narrow and impatient. The reason one does not grow angry is that the boat that struck was empty.

If there were a person in the boat, you would call for him to steer clear. You call once and he does not hear; you call again and he still does not hear. By the third call you are sure to answer with abuse.

Commentary: “E sheng” means words of reviling.

A moment ago you were not angry, yet now you are; a moment ago the boat was empty, but now it carries a person. If one can empty oneself and roam through the world, who can harm him?

Note: Though affairs change, the principle of emptying oneself to avoid harm remains the same.

Commentary: “Emptying oneself” (xu ji) means the inner mind does not cling or hold fixed views.

Bei Gong She

Commentary: Bei Gong She—surname Bei Gong, given name She—lived in North Palace and took that as his surname; he was a minister of the state of Wei.

He collected levies for Duke Ling of Wei to cast bells, and also built an altar outside the city gate.

Commentary: Before casting bells one must set up an altar for sacrifice, hence the need to build an altar.

Three months later the bells were finished; upper and lower sets were all hung in proper array.

Commentary: The upper and lower pitches were in harmony and the eight tones complete—hence “hung in proper array.”

When Qingji, a son of the Zhou king and a minister of the Zhou court, met him, he asked: “What method or art do you practice?”

She replied: “I simply hold to the One—single-mindedness and the plain, uncarved nature—and dare not deliberately invent extra devices that would only add trouble.” He had heard it said that after carving and refinement one must return to simplicity—that is, come back into line with one’s original nature.

He was so unassuming that he seemed to know nothing, letting his nature be as it was; his bearing was absent and unhurried, no longer caught in doubt and anxious calculation. He did not especially rejoice when people and affairs gathered or parted, nor did he insist on judging—he let things take their course.

He did not block those who came or hold back those who left. When he met the forceful and unyielding, he went along with their temper; when he met those whose reasoning was tangled and changeable, he followed the situation as it unfolded, not letting fixed opinions bind him. He adapted to each person’s circumstances and let affairs develop according to their own conditions.

Thus even when levies were collected morning and evening, the people suffered no harm at all. How much more when one has grasped the great Dao—the root principle that runs through all things and accords with nature without forcing? This is ease without clinging, allowing the world to move according to its own situation. Work pursued steadily need not wait until long years have passed to bear fruit. Dao is the way: when one can follow things and not intervene rashly, and further rely on the great Dao to nurture things naturally, to see results in three months is hardly surprising.

Confucius was besieged between the states of Chen and Cai and went seven days without lighting a fire to cook.

[Explanation] King Zhao of Chu invited Confucius to visit. Confucius set out from Lu for Chu and stopped along the way between Chen and Cai. Many disciples accompanied him. The people of Chen and Cai mistook Confucius for Yang Hu, so they sent troops to surround them. The disciples were hungry and trapped, and for seven days they did not light a fire to cook.

Taigong Ren came to console Confucius and asked, “Are you close to death?” Confucius replied, “Yes.” Taigong Ren then asked, “Do you abhor death?” Confucius replied, “Yes.”

[Note] Confucius was simply answering in keeping with ordinary people’s likes and dislikes; a sage has no private preferences or aversions.

[Explanation] “Taigong” is a way of addressing an elder, and Ren was his name. “Close” means nearing, and “yes” means “that is so.” After Confucius was besieged, Taigong Ren came to console him and asked whether he was close to death. Confucius said yes. He then asked whether Confucius abhorred death, and Confucius again said yes.

Taigong Ren said, “You once spoke of a way to escape death. In the Eastern Sea there is a bird called Yidai. It flies slowly and leisurely, as though it had no particular skill. When it flies, it relies on its companions to lead it. When pressed, it folds its wings and roosts alongside the flock.”

[Note] Its bearing is relaxed and its movements unhurried; its heart does not cling stubbornly to anything.

[Explanation] Taigong Ren uses a seabird as a metaphor for the way of long life. “Fenfen zhizhi” describes flying slowly, unable to soar high. When it flies, it needs a companion to lead it and does not dare to take off first. When it roosts, it folds its wings and stays close to the flock. It does not strive to be at the front when advancing, nor fall behind when retreating.

It always takes its place calmly in the middle of the group.

When eating, it does not dare to take the first bite. It waits until its turn before taking food.

[Note] It simply follows the way things are arranged.

[Explanation] By keeping to a moderate place in both advance and retreat, it stays as far as possible from harm. It also eats alongside its companions and follows the order of the group.

Thus, it is not cast out from the flock.

[Note] It always moves together with the group.

As a result, even when strangers suddenly appear, they cannot harm it, and it escapes misfortune.

[Note] Misfortune often arises when one uses one’s cleverness to compete and strive to get ahead.

[Explanation] Because it is humble and gentle and does not compete with anything, its companions do not cast it out. When strangers arrive unexpectedly, they also find it hard to harm the bird, allowing it to avoid the troubles of the human world.

Straight trees are the first to be cut down; sweet wells are the first to be drained.

[Note] These are examples of how having ability can bring misfortune.

[Explanation] A straight tree is cut down first because it is useful. A well with sweet water attracts many people who come to draw from it, and soon it runs dry. The same principle applies to people who flaunt their intelligence.

Taigong Ren continued, “Perhaps you rely on cleverness to startle the ignorant, and polish your own conduct to expose the faults of others, making yourself especially conspicuous…”

Those who show off as if walking while hoisting the sun and moon on high will inevitably invite disaster.

Note: Those who scrutinize things minutely and display fine distinctions stand apart from the multitude; if one can blend utterly with all things, nothing in the world seems unique. Manifest brilliance is only the appearance left by the dark, formless Dao. Here words are used to show how to set aside such appearances, so the story of Confucius’s straits in Chen and Cai serves as a vehicle.

Commentary: This means Confucius then meant to display his wisdom and stand out from others, to stir the dull worldly crowd; he refined body and mind, showed his talent, scrutinized and flaunted his ability—like walking while raising sun and moon—so calamity was hard to avoid.

Long ago I heard a “person of great completion” (Laozi) say: one who boasts of merit finds merit hard to complete; one who will not yield after success is finally ruined; one whose fame is already bright will also suffer loss.

Note: Those who rely on merit and think it already achieved have never been able to keep it whole.

Commentary: “Person of great completion” means Laozi. The sage’s virtue is vast and can nurture all things, hence “great completion.” “Boast” (fa) is self-praise; “ruin” (hui) is to spoil. Boast of ability and merit is hard to finish; after success, refusal to step back ends in ruin; fame shines yet one does not dim that light, and disgrace follows.

Who can set aside merit and fame and give them back to the multitude?

Note: Merit is achieved together by the multitude, so it should be returned to them.

Commentary: Who, after great merit and great name, does not keep them but gives the credit to others? Only the sage can do this.

The Dao moves in the world yet does not make itself known.

Note: It works without display, running of itself.

Commentary: The Dao spreads through the world yet gathers its light and does not show itself—hence “not manifest.”

Dwelling in Dao and De, practicing in the world, yet not holding onto a name.

Note: They rest content in practicing the Great Dao, not because a name drives them.

Commentary: Though they embody Dao and De and their conduct touches the world, they hide reputation and withdraw traces, not owning fame.

Plain, pure, ordinary and unadorned—they can look for all the world like madmen.

Note: Because in action they make no deliberate plan.

Commentary: “Purely plain” is unadorned simplicity; “always ordinary” is sameness with all things. They do not pose or adorn themselves, so they seem like madmen.

They erase their tracks, let go of power and position, and do not keep merit and fame in mind.

Note: Merit is done with others; power is not one’s own—so neither merit nor tracks are kept.

Commentary: They wipe away the sage’s outward tracks, abandon power, and in the heart do not cling to achievement or cherish reputation.

Therefore they do not harshly blame others; each person’s conduct need not be pursued by others.

Note: Let each act from nature and bear their own part.

It was precisely for this reason that he had no fame or honor. Since I do not blame others, others in turn do not blame me.

“Does the Perfected Person (zhiren, one whose moral cultivation has reached the highest level) not seek to be known—so why do you still delight in reputation?”

Note: One whose mind is still and detached, without entanglements, is a Perfected Person.

Commentary: A person whose virtue has reached the supreme level does not pursue prominence in the world. Since you are already enlightened and penetrating, why do you still cherish reputation?

Confucius said, “Well said.” Thereupon he took leave of his companions, dismissed his disciples, and fled into the great marshes. He wore coarse cloth and fur, and ate acorns and chestnuts.

Note: This describes how he abandoned what the human world values as enjoyment.

Commentary: Confucius accepted this teaching and judged the other’s words good. He then took leave of his companions, dismissed his disciples, and went alone into the mountains, forests, marshes, and wilds. He removed his wide-sleeved scholar’s robe and put on coarse cloth and fur; he gave up sweet, rich, and fatty foods and ate acorns and chestnuts instead.

When he entered a herd of beasts, he did not disturb them; when he entered a flock of birds, he did not break their ranks.

Note: He was without scheming mind, like grass and trees, so birds and beasts did not fear him.

Birds and beasts did not dislike him—how much more so people?

Note: This uses the affair of birds and beasts as a metaphor to show emphatically that if a person can relate to all things with utmost sincerity, he will not be harmed.

Commentary: His mind was still and detached, like withered wood or ashes in a cold hearth; his comings and goings were also like grass and trees—without feeling or disturbance. Therefore when he entered among birds and beasts he did not startle them; how much less would he invite dislike when dealing with people?

Confucius asked Zi Sang Yu, “I was twice driven out of Lu, in Song they felled a tree on me, in Wei they erased my tracks, in Shang and Zhou I found no success, and I was besieged between Chen and Cai. After meeting these misfortunes, ties with kin and friends grew ever more distant, and disciples and friends scattered ever more widely. Why is this?”

Commentary: Zi Sang Yu, surname Sang, given name Yu, was a recluse. When Confucius served as Minister of Crime in Lu, the people of Qi heard of it and sent selected singing girls and prized horses to the ruler of Lu, sowing discord; Confucius was therefore expelled. Song was the state of the descendants of Yin (Shang); Confucius was not employed in Song and in the lands of Zhou—hence “found no success.” After Confucius met these hardships, kin and friends drew farther from him and disciples and friends dispersed more widely. He asked why this was so.

Zi Sang Yu said, “Have you not heard of how Lin Hui of the state of Jia fled? Lin Hui abandoned a jade disk worth a thousand in gold and instead carried an infant on his back as he ran. Someone asked him: ‘Is it because the infant offers more wealth?’ In fact an infant offers very little wealth.

Note: The “cloth” (bu) mentioned here means goods and money.

“Is it because the infant brings less burden? An infant brings a great deal of burden. Given that, why did he leave behind a jade disk worth a thousand in gold and instead carry the infant when he fled?”

Commentary: Jia was the name of a state, a dependency of Jin; Lin Hui was a worthy man of that place.

When the state of Jin was on the verge of collapse, the common people scattered in flight to escape the turmoil. Lin Hui abandoned a jade disk worth a fortune and fled carrying his child on his back. Someone asked him: “Why did you leave behind your wealth and run off with the child? A child is far weightier than mere possessions.” Lin Hui replied: “The jade disk is bound to me through profit; the child is bound to me through natural kinship. Those joined by profit, once they meet hardship, disaster, and danger, cast one another aside; those joined by natural kinship, when they meet difficulty and calamity, instead shelter and care for one another. The difference between sheltering one another and abandoning one another is truly vast.”

Commentary: The jade disk and a person belong to the category of joining through profit; a child and a person belong to kinship by nature. Kinfolk still look after one another in crisis; those joined by profit, when they encounter distress and misfortune, abandon one another. The situations of sheltering and abandoning are worlds apart.

Therefore, the friendship between gentlemen is as bland as clear water, while the friendship between petty persons is as sweet as sacrificial wine (lǐjiǔ). Gentlemen associate in plainness, and thereby grow closer.

Note: In their dealings there is no entanglement of profit, so the bond seems thin; because their paths (Dao) align, they become intimate.

The friendship of petty persons is sweet, yet easily broken off.

Note: They adorn themselves deliberately and associate through profit, so it appears sweet; profit cannot last, and therefore the relationship eventually ends.

Commentary: With no profit entangled in the bond, friendship is thin yet they unite through the Way; associating with profit in the mix makes friendship sweet, but when profit is exhausted the tie is severed.

A bond that forms without any external cause will likewise not dissolve because of external causes.

Note: A union that forms without external cause is natural kinship. Since the joining was not brought about by some particular cause, no external cause is enough to dissolve it. Conversely, if one joins because of some cause, one may also part because of some cause.

Commentary: “Not joining because of external events” speaks of natural kinship such as between father and son; therefore they do not part without cause. Confucius once recounted the deeds of former kings and drew close to friends—this was not natural kinship; people came seeking reputation and profit, so it was a joining with cause. When Confucius met with having his carriage tracks erased and trees cut down in rebuke, his disciples left him—this is joining because of a cause and parting because of a cause. Only natural kinship leads to intimacy without reason and prevents parting without reason.

Confucius said: “I respectfully accept your teaching.” Then he walked slowly back, at ease and unhurried, and from that time gave up pursuits of deliberate learning and set aside his books. His disciples no longer performed bowing and yielding rituals toward him, yet their reverence and affection for him grew deeper day by day.

Note: This was because he had cast off artifice and returned to natural simplicity.

Commentary: Confucius said he truly followed the lofty instruction, then walked back at leisure, free and at ease. He cut off the conduct of striving to learn artificially, laid aside books that recorded the deeds of sages, and no longer taught with ornate embellishment. The disciples no longer performed bowing and yielding rituals; they only deepened their respect and love for him daily.

Another day, Sang Hu again said: “When Shun was dying, he earnestly admonished Yu, saying: ‘Be careful! The body is not as good as following nature; disposition and feeling are not as good as acting with genuineness.’”

Note: Act in accord with outward circumstances, follow one's inner nature, and do not let gain distort that nature.

Commentary: “Yuan” (缘) means to follow or adapt. The body should follow the situation of external things; disposition and nature should act in accord with one's true character, without going against the original mind. In antiquity, when Yu Shun was on his deathbed, he used this sincere teaching to admonish Yu the Great. Yu the Great observed it carefully and acted according to Shun's words. Therefore Sang Yu quoted this passage when speaking to Confucius. Some versions write “xiao” (晓) as “ling” (泠); “xiao” means to inform, referring to Yu Shun on his deathbed informing Yu the Great of these true words.

When one adapts to external things, one does not depart from one's nature; when one acts in accord with one's nature, one is not worn out.

Note: When the body is not constrained, it can often be preserved intact; when disposition and nature are not twisted, one can often remain at ease.

Commentary: When the body follows external things, it can constantly align with the nature of things; when one acts in accord with one's nature, applying it does not produce harm. Neither departing from nature nor being exhausted, there is no need to rely on ornament to sustain the bodily form.

Note: Trust the plain, unadorned nature and go straight ahead.

Commentary: Acting in accord with one's nature, keeping to simplicity, and going straight ahead—why would one need borrowed literary flourish and outward form to function or adorn body and nature?

Not seeking ornament to dress the body, one naturally does not depend on external things.

Note: Keeping to simplicity is already enough.

Commentary: Since one does not rely on classics and ornament to dress the body, one should know that a person who is content with their proper place is already sufficient and need not depend on external things.

Zhuangzi wore coarse cloth with patches on it; his shoes were worn through, so he tied them with string and went to visit the King of Wei. The king said, “How did you become so haggard, Master?”

Commentary: “Dabu” (大布) is coarse cloth. Zhuangzi's family was poor; he wore coarse cloth and patched it. “Jiang” (緳) refers to shoe laces; some say it means a belt. The shoes were broken, so he tied them with string. The King of Wei is King Hui of Wei. “Bei” (憊) means worn down, weak, or ill. Zhuangzi wore coarse patched clothes and broken shoes, tied his belt, and went to see the king; the king saw his haggard face and asked, “How did you become so poor and weak, Master?”

Zhuangzi said, “I am poor, not worn down. When a scholar has virtue but cannot put it into practice, that is called being worn down. Torn clothes and worn shoes are poverty, not being worn down. This is what is meant by not meeting the right time. Has Your Majesty never seen leaping gibbons? When they get straight, fine trees such as nanmu, zimu, and yuzhang, they grasp the branches and move freely in the trees; even Yi and Feng Meng could not steal a sidelong glance at them.”

Note: When gibbons meet the right time and place, they can spread along the branches and move freely; therefore even ancient masters of archery could not harm them.

Commentary: Nanmu, zimu, and yuzhang are all straight, fine trees. “Lanman” (揽蔓) is to clutch branches; “wangchang” (王长) is a free, self-satisfied manner. Yi was a famous archer of antiquity; Feng Meng was Yi's disciple. “Pinie” (睥睨) is to look askance. Some versions write “guo” (聒); the sense here is that when a person of talent meets the right time and environment, it is like gibbons getting straight, tall trees…

Monkeys leap and climb through the trees, at ease and nimble. Even a skilled archer would not dare look straight at one, let alone draw a bow and shoot.

But when a monkey enters a thicket of thorny trees—such as the zhe, thorn, zhi, and gou—it can only tread carefully, watch from the corners of its eyes, and tremble with fear. Its muscles and bones have not grown tighter or less agile. Its surroundings are simply unfavorable, and it cannot put its abilities to use.

Explanation: Zhe, thorn, gou, and zhi are all vicious trees covered in thorns. Among them, a monkey cannot display its agility and nimbleness. Fear takes hold of it, its body trembles, and it walks cautiously, glancing from side to side. Its muscles and bones are no different from before; the problem is that its surroundings are unfavorable. When scholars find themselves in troubled times, they too should act with such caution.

Now, if you are caught among a foolish ruler and disorderly ministers, how could you hope to avoid exhaustion and harm? The fate of Bi Gan, whose heart was cut out, proves this very point.

Note: When circumstances are unfavorable, forcing yourself to act will bring death.

Explanation: Here the monkey serves as a metaphor. At the time, the Zhou royal house had grown weak and the Six States had risen. Rulers were foolish, and their ministers were in disorder. Zhuangzi embraced the Way and Virtue, yet could not secure an appointment, so he withdrew from public life to avoid calamity. That is why he spoke this way. In the past, King Zhou of Yin was without the Way. Bi Gan remonstrated with him out of loyalty and was killed with his heart cut out. This past event illustrates the principle at hand: using an event from antiquity to prove a point in the present is like holding up a clear mirror.

Confucius was trapped between the states of Chen and Cai. For seven days, he had no fire with which to cook. He rested his left hand on a dead tree, tapped its branches with his fingers, and sang a simple melody from the age of Shennong, the legendary ruler of antiquity. The melody had instruments but no fixed beat; it had sounds but no notes from scales such as gong and jiao. The tapping of the wood and the sound of the human voice rang out clearly, and touched the heart just as they were.

Explanation: Biao refers to Shennong. Confucius was a sage, at ease both in success and in hardship. Though he suffered the ordeal of Chen and Cai, he did not abandon the Way of Wuwei (non-action). He tapped the dead tree with his left hand and leaned on a withered branch with his right, calm and at ease as he sang the simple, unadorned old melody from Shennong’s time. The wood could make a sound, but it had no tune and could not distinguish notes such as gong and shang. Yet the song and the sound of the wood were plain and natural, and settled the heart just as they should. In this way, they resonated with the human heart.

Yan Hui sat upright, turned his gaze, and looked at Confucius. Confucius worried that Yan Hui might take this as a reason to boast and grow conceited; he also worried that Yan Hui might cherish himself and feel pity for himself…

This passage presents Zhuangzi's philosophical insights through a dialogue between Confucius and his disciple Yan Hui, illustrating the Daoist principle of harmonizing with nature.

Confucius instructs Yan Hui: "It is relatively easy not to resist the damages brought by nature (tiansun), but refusing artificial gains (renyi) proves far more difficult. The laws of nature operate like the turning of seasons—they should be accepted with equanimity. Yet when worldly fame and fortune suddenly arrive, people often find it hard to decline." Here, the text employs Confucius' famous anecdote of rhythmically tapping wood while singing to demonstrate that truly enlightened individuals remain unmoved by favorable or adverse circumstances.

The passage emphasizes that all transformations in existence have no absolute beginning or end. Today's commencement was yesterday's conclusion; life and death, poverty and prosperity are all part of nature's cyclical flow. When one attains the state of "forgetting both self and things" (wuwoliangwang), even the distinction between singer and song dissolves, transcending all egoistic attachments.

When Yan Hui inquires why accepting natural adversity comes easily, Confucius explains: "Hunger and thirst, cold and heat, setbacks and obstacles—these are all natural manifestations of cosmic movement (yunwuzhixie), as inevitable as seasonal changes. The truly wise flow with these transformations (yuzhixieshi), embodying what the ancients called 'following Dao's principles without conscious effort.'"

The passage concludes with a ministerial metaphor: "Even a minister dares not disobey his ruler's command—how much more should we revere the supreme Dao of heaven?" Those who genuinely embody Dao remain tranquil in all circumstances, not perceiving damages as damages. Only through such profound acceptance can one truly harmonize with celestial patterns without suffering harm.

A minister does not dare to evade or abandon the sovereign’s command; he holds to the duties proper to a minister. From this we can see that all the more so, when things change and when one meets hardship or success, one must follow the natural order—how could one go against it?

What is meant by “it is hard not to accept favors from others”? Confucius said: “At the beginning, through sympathetic resonance one can reach everywhere.” (“Reaching the four directions” means that one’s responsiveness is unobstructed and extends in all directions.)

When rank and salary come together, blessings and emoluments know no end. (Note: Because one can reach the four directions, one can bear high office and generous pay.) The benefits that all things seek are not obtained by one’s own deliberate scheming. (Note: It is not that one grasps for them oneself, but that once they arrive, one accepts them.)

“Beginning” (shi) is the root; “then” (nai) is what is fitting. The subtle root is empty, still, and silent; what appears in action accords with the right moment. Resonance reaches the four quarters and illumines what lies beyond the nine provinces. Once one has accepted exalted rank, wealth, salary, and reputation follow without limit, and all things come seeking their benefit—this is exactly as it should be.

“My charge lies in what is external.” (Note: A person living in the world necessarily has a mission to meet and respond to things outside himself; he is not like a tile or stone that merely rests in physical form.) Confucius was a sage, born bearing Heaven’s mandate, who employed that mandate through outward virtue to rescue the people—by no means was he like tile or stone, possessing only a body.

The superior person does not act as a thief; the worthy person does not act as a robber. If I accept such rank and salary, what could be wrong with that? (Note: “Theft” means taking for oneself in secret. When the worthy and the superior person receive rank and salary, they do not seize them privately—they only accept what is given.) If worthy persons and superior persons still do not steal, how much less would Confucius, a sage, violate Heaven’s principle and grasp rank and salary for himself? When such things come by chance, he merely accepts them for a time; he does not pursue them on purpose.

Therefore it is said: “Among birds, none knows better than the swallow how to avoid harm. When it sees that a place is unsuitable to stay, it need not look all around; even if food falls from its beak, it will drop it and fly away at once.” (Note: This describes how swiftly it flees danger.) The swallow is a bird skilled at feeding itself and, among birds, best at keeping far from disaster and preserving itself. When it flies into a human dwelling and wishes to build a nest, it only glances briefly at the surroundings; once it finds the spot unsuitable, it does not wait to look further but flies off immediately. Even if the food in its beak falls to the ground, it leaves it at once and does not turn back to pick it up—thus we see how quickly it avoids harm.

“Though it fears people, it attaches itself to human communities.” (Note: There is no bird that keeps far from people and is shunned by them that still wins their shelter; the swallow fears people yet enters their homes to live—this is precisely why it is called clever.) “To attach” (xi) means to enter and rely upon. Though the swallow is afraid of people, it relies on them for dwelling and enters…

People lodge in houses as birds and beasts do in nests. Because others grow close and familiar with him, he can escape harm. The sage moves through the world by hiding his edge, blending into the crowd, carefully avoiding disaster, and not drowning in worldly affairs. People are glad to lift him up and do not cast him aside, so he can endure and keep his life.

In this way the sheji—the ancient altars to the spirits of soil and grain, and by extension the state—continues to stand.

Note: The same logic applies to the zhiren (perfected person), who is one with all things under heaven. People are glad to lift him up and do not reject him; all together they honor him as they would the sheji. That is why it is hard for him to win people’s devotion without seeming to owe them favors.

Commentary: When the sage’s virtue reaches widely to living beings, people gladly support him and the sheji endures—this is only fitting. “Receiving people’s favor” means precisely this.

What is meant by having no beginning and no end? Zhongni (Confucius) said: “Things transform and come to be, yet none perceives that they are replacing one another.”

Note: One does not perceive their change.

Commentary: “Chan” means to alternate. Dao runs through all things and brings them forth; heaven, earth, and the myriad beings turn and shift without rest, and the new keeps appearing. People live in this every day without noticing, so they do not see things passing away. If change happens daily and no fixed point can mark a start or a finish, how can one say what is beginning and what is ending?

How can we know where the end lies? How can we know where the beginning lies? Set yourself right, follow the changes, and wait.

Note: Day and night replace each other without end. So one need only set oneself right, go with change, and not cling to anything else.

Commentary: What we call an end is already a new beginning; what we call a beginning will in turn become an end—how could beginning and end be pinned down? With no fixed beginning or end, there is no absolute death or life. Go with change and accord with the transforming process; meet whatever comes with ease, hold to the right course, and let things change on their own.

What is meant by the human and heaven being one? Zhongni said: “The human is originally heaven; heaven too is originally heaven.”

Note: Whatever we call “heaven” (tian) shows that things are not arranged by human design but occur of themselves.

Commentary: Human order and the myriad things are nothing but the natural; affection too arises naturally. Human and heaven are not two separate realms—all things are one whole.

A person cannot take this natural disposition as personal property.

Note: Call it natural, and it simply is so—how could anyone deliberately manufacture that naturalness? Because it is inherently thus, it is called xing (nature).

Commentary: The natural is what is so without our knowing why, yet is so of itself. It is not a human product, so how could it be “owned” by a person? If we said it were owned, it would no longer be natural. Nature is xing—not something made or possessed. This clarifies the earlier phrase “there is heaven.”

The sage peacefully follows change until his life is spent.

Note: At ease, without smug self-possession, body and mind move together with transformation.

Anran means calm and free from worry; shi means to depart. The sage understands that the beginning and end of all things are ultimately not separate, and also grasps that life and death are originally one—therefore able to release the bodily form in peace and depart in accord with transformation; from whatever point things begin, one lets change unfold naturally until the end.

Zhuang Zhou was wandering in the chestnut grove at Diaoling when he saw an unusual magpie flying in from the south. Its wings spanned seven feet and its eyes were a full inch round; brushing past Zhuang Zhou’s forehead, it alighted in the chestnut wood.

Diaoling was the name of the chestnut grove; fan means a fence or hedge—that is, Zhuang Zhou was playing inside the hedge of the chestnut grove. Yun means round; gan means to touch; song is the forehead. This strange magpie came from the south with very long wings and full round eyes, struck Zhuang Zhou’s forehead sharply, then landed in the chestnut trees.

Zhuang Zhou said, “What kind of bird is this? Its wings are so large yet it does not fly far; its eyes so large yet it does not see far.” He gathered his robe, hurried after it, and took up his crossbow to wait for it.

Yin means large; shi means to go far away; jue bu is to walk quickly; liu means to wait or watch. Zhuang Zhou found the bird’s appearance strange and wanted to catch it, so he hurried after it and held his crossbow ready.

Then he saw a cicada hiding in the deep shade of a leaf, enjoying the cool, oblivious to its own situation; a mantis held a leaf to cover itself and was about to catch the cicada, also unaware that it had already been exposed.

Zhi yi means to hold a leaf to conceal oneself. The mantis wanted to use the leaf as cover to seize the cicada but did not notice that its own form had already been seen by the strange magpie.

The strange magpie followed behind the mantis, about to seize the chance to prey on it, yet likewise forgot its own danger in greed for immediate gain.

Bo means to capture; zhen refers to one’s true nature and life. Zhuang Zhou had not yet released the crossbow when he suddenly saw the cicada in the shade, unaware of its plight; the mantis raising a leaf to hide itself, intent only on the cicada, not noticing the strange magpie; and the strange magpie, taking advantage of the mantis catching the cicada, also failed to mind its own life. This is “seeing profit and forgetting one’s true nature.”

Zhuang Zhou woke with a start and said, “Alas! Among the myriad things, they truly bind one another.”

Churan is the look of startled awakening. Seeing that cicada, mantis, and strange magpie all forgot their safety in chasing immediate gain, Zhuang Zhou sighed: things that seek profit from one another are often entangled by one another.

Two kinds of things mutually attract each other.

Whoever seeks to get something from external things will also be drawn along by those things.

Those who crave external things will in turn be entangled by them. Thus cicadas, magpies, and people alike are drawn by worldly gain and loss until they meet one another—roughly in this way.

Zhuang Zhou dropped his slingshot and ran away. The park keeper (yuren) of the orchard caught up and interrogated him. Commentators explain that “sui” means to question closely; the yuren was charged with guarding the chestnut grove. Zhuang Zhou saw that benefit and harm follow upon craving, so he abandoned his slingshot and fled; the keeper thought he was stealing chestnuts and therefore questioned him.

After returning home, Zhuang Zhou did not cross his courtyard threshold for three months. His disciple Lan Que followed him and asked, “Master, why have you lately kept your door shut and not gone out?”

Zhuang Zhou said, “I was bent only on preserving my bodily form and forgot my own self.”

Commentators explain that one’s lot in the world has its smooth stretches and its perils. If you act solely from a momentary sense that circumstances are secure, without considering whether the times permit it, that is caring for the body while forgetting the self.

“I looked at muddy water and lost sight of the clear deep spring.”

Commentators say this means seeing external things without recognizing oneself—when using externals to mirror the self, one nearly forgets to turn back and reflect inward.

Zhuang Zhou means: I pursued profit and went along with external things, thinking only to preserve my bodily form, yet instead drew benefit and harm upon myself and put my person in danger. After seeing the magpie and the cicada, I returned home and did not go out—perhaps also to reproach myself; then I sat quietly and observed, as though gazing at turbid water while missing the clear spring. Even when this did not accord with my nature and intent, I still remembered the principle of turning the gaze back upon oneself.

Zhuang Zhou also said, “Moreover, I heard the Master (here referring to Laozi) say: Enter a place, and you must follow its local customs.”

Commentators explain that this means not violating local prohibitions. Zhuang Zhou took Laozi as his teacher, hence he calls him “Master.” The person of penetration accommodates the world and acts according to local rules. On this trip to Diaoling (a place name), he was suspected of stealing chestnuts and nearly ran afoul of the ban—hence his remorse.

“Now I wandered at Diaoling and forgot my situation; an extraordinary magpie struck my forehead, and again in the chestnut woods I forgot the orchard’s prohibition. The keeper treated me as one who deserved punishment—that is why I have not left my courtyard.”

Commentators say Zhuang Zhou regarded being questioned as humiliation. Zhuangzi’s parables often lodge meaning in the words and deeds of characters; commentators also note that this passage, through Zhuang Zhou’s mouth, expresses self-reproach for his own conduct. The closing line means: Zhuang Zhou was so intent on chasing that unusual magpie that he forgot the orchard’s prohibition—and thereby forgot the situation he was in.

Some editions write the character for “true” (真) as 眞; either form may be read on its own merits. The forest keeper (keeper of the hills and woods) said, “Someone has stolen my chestnuts.” Conduct like this—harming oneself and inviting disgrace—is why one cannot rest content in one’s proper place. Zhuangzi was a man of expansive spirit: he withdrew from the world yet stood in a humble station, traveled in the state of Song, and nurtured himself in Lacquer Garden—would he have been dazzled by clear streams before his eyes or set his heart on gain and loss? He surely meant only to appraise how people differ in temperament and to show how they bring harm upon themselves.

Yangzi (Yang Zhu, style name Ziju) went to Song and lodged at an inn. The innkeeper had two concubines, one beautiful and one plain; the plain one was treated with deference, the beautiful one with neglect. Yangzi asked the reason. A young man at the inn replied, “The one who is beautiful assumes she is beautiful, so we do not feel she is beautiful; the one who is plain also regards herself as plain, so we do not feel she is ugly.”

The commentary explains: Yangzi’s surname was Yang, his given name Zhu, and his style Ziju; he was a man of Qin. Nuli (逆旅) means a traveler’s lodge. When he reached Song and stayed at such an inn, the handsome woman leaned on her looks, and others ceased to see her beauty; the homely woman was modest in her bearing and even took herself for homely, so others stopped dwelling on her faults.

Yangzi said, “Students, take this to heart: if someone cultivates De (virtue), acts with goodness, and can drop the habit of deeming oneself worthy and looking down on others, then wherever that person goes, how could affection and regard fail to follow?”

The annotator remarks that the attitude of self-proclaimed worthiness is never fitting, whatever the era. The expository text adds that to nurture virtue, straighten conduct, and shed self-display and contempt for others is to be welcomed and honored everywhere—hence Yangzi had his disciples set the lesson down in writing.