This series of articles was written by my teacher, mentor and friend, Tom Bisio founder and chief instructor of Internal Arts International. Tom is an accomplished martial artist and Chinese Medicine practitioner. He is also the foremost practitioner and teacher of Baquazhang in the United States. Even though I did not write this I feel is important enough to include here in the hopes that it will reach a larger audience.
Dao De Jing Chapter 2: How to Cultivate the Personality
In this second part of a series of posts that examine the Dao De Jing as a guide to Daoist Meditation, the analysis of these chapters leans heavily on He Shang Gong’s (Ho Shang Kung) commentary on the text. He Shang Gong’s chapter headings read like instructions or guideposts for the practice of Daoist meditation, a bit like a “how to” book. In this post we look at Chapter 2: How to Cultivate the Personality and Chapter 5: How to Use Emptiness.
Unless otherwise indicated all Dao De Jing quotes are from: Ho-Shang-Kung’s Commentary on Lao-Tse, translated and annotated by Eduard Erkes. Switzerland: Press of Artibus Asiae Ascona (First published in Journal Artibus Saiae 1950). I highly recommend this translation and commentary if you can obtain a copy.
All the world knows that beauty is beautiful, then there is ugliness.
If all know that good is good, then badness exists.
Thus existence and non-existence generate each other.
Heaviness and lightness perfect each other,
Longness and shortness form each other.
Highness and lowness incline toward each other.
Sound and Voice harmonize with each other.
Before and afterwards follow each other.
Therefore the saint remains in the business of non-action.
He follows the doctrine of no speaking.
All things rise, and they are not rejected.
He produces without owning.
He acts and puts no stress on it
Merit is accomplished and he does not stay with it.
Now because he does not stay with it,
He does not flee.
The text tells us that opposites both generate and complete each other, so one should focus on not acting – Wu Wei. Wu Wei is a concept that causes a lot of confusion. Sinologist Jean François Billeter describes Wu Wei as a “state of perfect knowledge of the reality of the situation, perfect efficaciousness and the realization of a perfect economy of energy.”[1] Wu Wei literally means “without action.” But it does not mean doing nothing, but rather doing just what is appropriate – effortless action or action without exertion – letting things unfold in a natural way. This non-action, non-interference and non-intervention means not interfering with the patterns and rhythms of nature, not imposing our own intentions on the organization of the world.
Nature and “civilization,” the universe and society, function best if they function like a perpetual motion machine, a machine that follows its own course without the input of an external energy or loss of energy due to internal friction. Any mechanism that is dependent on an external source of energy, on a cosmic battery, so to speak, will expire along with its battery. Only a self-sustained mechanism that is totally immanent can be absolutely free of exhaustion. If the organism is totally closed and “self-so” it cannot “leak.” Its power or efficacy is unobstructed.[2]
Daoist Meditation practices are exactly as described above. Rather than interfering with or modifying the mechanisms and patterns of nature (both our own nature and the nature of the world around us), one observes their operations in a state of stillness, and through this observation, transformations unfold.
Dao De Jing Chapter 55: “On the Charm of the Mystery” will be discussed in more detail in a later post, however it touches deeply on the idea of Wu Wei in relation to self-cultivation. The heart and the emotions, if not still and focused, if not harmonious, pull on the reservoir of Qi and Jing, thereby depleting them. This is considered to be going against the Dao. The text and commentary of Chapter 55 tell us that the uninhibited circulation of the internal energies allows one to penetrate the dark mystery, so that the body becomes stronger, inside and tender on the outside, like an infant – Who holds the fullness of Te in his mouth may be compared to and infant. Because the infant’s breath is harmonious and because its intention is focused, its mind does not change – therefore its grip is tight even though its sinews are tender and the bones weak. He Shang Gong adds, that if the harmonious breath disappears from the interior, the body daily becomes harder[3] (ie: less resilient – more brittle). When one has lost the Dao in this fashion, one ages and dies. The implication is one of trying just the right amount. If one uses the mind to force the Qi to move, the inner suppleness is lost, the “harmonious breath disappears from the interior”[4] and the body becomes harder and more brittle.
Dao De Jing Chapter 2 points out that calling things good or bad is relative, since opposites are so dependent on each other. These distinctions and even cause and effect are nuanced. So, the sage, or the person cultivating internal energy, tries to refrain from judging, because judging tends toward an overexertion or expenditure that creates friction and potential blockage. Professor Bernard Down points out that in Daoist thought, the truth value of any claim is related to its context or perspective and must, therefore, always be carefully qualified in order have any validity at all. What is good for one individual might not be good for another, or good for a single individual at different times. The same goes for beauty, truth, usefulness, and so on. Therefore, rather than dogmatically maintaining constant standards, one should be prepared to flexibly adjust one’s attitudes in relation to the needs of the current situation. [4a] The sage is very hesitant to interfere, or to insist that his or her opinion should be respected. The sage is reluctant to lead, and refuses to be followed, perhaps acting as an example, but without pointing it out. By not putting oneself above others, one is unlikely to be rebuked. Judging and interfering are modes of overdoing which can negatively impact one’s Te (power and potential).
Already in these first two chapters of the Dao De Jing, there is an idea of not stressing anything too much, having no termination that defines and apprehends meaning. Rather then limiting definitions, these utterances serve as a kind of bridge.[5] Through non-differentiation one is then able to engage with the incessant ongoing transformation of things, whose continuity ‘cannot be named’ but whose indistinction leads us beneficently toward the fundamental harmony which Daoists have called the ‘Dao’.[6] He Shang Gong’s commentary tells us that acting, but putting no stress on anything, is what the Dao is doing.[7] Allowing transformation to unfold, one “produces without owning” just as the pristine breath produces all things without owning them.[8]
Dao De Jing Chapter 5: How to use Emptiness
Heaven and Earth are not humane,
They regard all things as straw dogs.
The saint is not humane,
He regards people as straw dogs.
The space between heaven and earth,
Should it not be like a bellows?
Who talks much is soon emptied.
This is not equal to keeping to the centre.
Chapter Five is another oft-quoted passage of the Dao De Jing. The first two lines seem a bit harsh at first. However scholars agree that “straw dogs” refers to people in ancient times binding grass together to make straw dogs that were used in sacrificial offerings, and then discarded to return to their natural state (a pile of straw) when the ceremony was over.[9]
Straw dogs, has another meaning as we see in the Daoist text the Zhuanzi. In a commentary on the Zhuangzi Guo Xiang (252- 312 CE), compares the Four Books and Five Confucian Classics[10] to “straw dogs”: It has already been shown how the Five Classics and the whole mass of our older books are “straw dogs,” effigies of the past. What we call footprints were of course produced by the feet. In the same way, books are written by the sages, but they are not the sages.[11]
In the Zhuangzi, this passage is presented as a conversation between Lao Zi and Confucius. Lao Zi says that the classics are the stale traces of former sages. These traces, or tracks (footprints) are created by walking (by the formless naturalness expressed by the sages), but they are not themselves the walking.[12] Treading on the footprints of others can inform us, but we cannot take them as the model for our own True Nature and its spontaneous expression. We must find our own way. This kind of Intention-No Intention (Yi Bu Yi), letting things take their own course and flowing with them is one of the principles of inner transformation in Meditative practices.
The idea of achieving merit and then letting it go is echoed in in the final line of Dao De Jing Chapter 9: How to Let Ease Circulate: Merit is achieved, glory follows, the personality recedes. This is the way of heaven. Once something is understood and achievement is made, rather than holding onto this merit and glory, which then stagnates and fixes the energy, one continues to develop and transform, by simply walking onward along the path, letting go and leaving no trace or only footprints – leaving nothing behind that can be argued over or disputed.
Human Beings are also like straw dogs. Heaven and earth follow their own natural interaction of which human beings are but a part, and therefore not subject to any special regard – in other words, heaven and earth are impartial. Their energies flow through us and we resonate with their vibrations. Living things are allowed to flourish of their own accord without interference. Similarly the sage or the person cultivating does not push others to be one way or the other, but interacts with them naturally and without the need to make them adhere to the sage’s personal perspective. He or she lets them develop naturally. Similarly in meditation one must allow the process to unfold with prejudice or preconceived ideas. Words and images that aid in understanding the meditation process, while useful, must ultimately be discarded (in the sense of not being rigidly adhered to) in order to observe and sense what is actually occurring, rather then what one wants to occur, or thinks should occur.
The famous Buddhist parable about two monks crossing a river is apropos to the above discussion. Two Buddhist monks, a senior and a junior, were walking through the forest. They came across a river flowing through their path. To continue their journey, they had to swim through the river and cross to the other side. There was a woman who was sitting at the bank of the river. She requested the monks to carry her to the other side. The younger monk, mindful of his vow celibacy, which included not even looking at women, let alone touching them, refused. However the older monk simply put the woman on his back, took her across the river to the other side and then returned. The monks continued on their journey, but as the hours passed the younger monk became more and more agitated. Finally he burst out with recrimination against the older monk, who in his estimation had broken his vow. The senior monk smiled, and said, “I dropped the woman at the bank of the river a long time ago, but you are still carrying her”.
He Shang Gong tells us that the space between Heaven and Earth is void and therefore harmonious, a place to do away with external things, desires, feelings and “superfluidities.”[13] This space is like a bellows. The bellows is empty yet it possesses a resounding breath. It is empty, yet it is inexhaustible and full. If the intake is too fast or too hard, the flow of air through the bellows will not be efficient. If too slow, little will be drawn in or expelled. The secret is to be gentle, consistent, steady and even.[14] The bellows represent the flow of the Qi and Breath, the flow of life, moving in a harmonious flow.
Similarly in meditation, one should keep strength inside, letting the breath gently and naturally move and fill the emptiness and thereby cultivate the spirits of the five organs. Talking empties rather than fills this space, so it is better to save and cultivate the breath, and diminish idle talk. Talking tires the body by expending Qi, rather than guarding it within. Talking harms the mind but making it repeatedly follow set channels. “Keeping the centre”, means keeping strength inside. Cultivate and nourish the spirits [of the five viscera], save your breath and talk little.[15]
In addition, words themselves often create a gap between the speaker and listener. Countless elements shape the meaning and quality of words, and both transmission and comprehension are often colored by one’s internal conflicts, needs and emotions. A true understanding of one’s moment-to-moment reality – the Dao – cannot be described with words. It can only be hinted at: “The Dao that can be discussed is not the eternal Dao.” Hence communication without words and understanding without words often facilitates a truer and deeper understanding.
Keeping to the center means not going too far in one direction or another. Then one is able to move in any direction as circumstances dictate, because one’s potential for change and transformation remains full and potent. Chinese scholar and philosopher Francois Jullien points out that in Chinese thought, the less evident a quality, the greater its capacity to grow; this is not remotely a question of humility. Rather, restraint is the very condition of non-exhaustion.[16] Simplicity and plainness are the measure of authenticity – it is situated opposite in relation to the flavorful or colorful, whose intensity and seductiveness are doomed to wear themselves out.[17]
In this chapter of the Dao De Jing we begin to get a sense of the nature of the Saint or Sage. In writings attributed to Zhuangzi (Chuang Tzu) he refers to saints and sages as “True Men” (Zhen Ren). Zhuangzi says that True Men have “unremembering hearts, calm faces, clear brows. They were cool like autumn, warm like spring; they were pleased and angry evenly through the four seasons, did what fitted in with other things, and no one knew their high point.” The True Man of Old:
His figure looms but suffers no landslides,
He seems to lack but takes no gifts.
Assured! His stability, but not rigid.
Pervasive! His tenuous influence, but it is not on display.
Lighthearted! Seems to be doing as he pleases.
Under compulsion! Inevitable that he does it.
Impetuously! Asserts a manner of his own.
Cautiously! Holds in the Power which is his own.
So tolerant! In his seeming worldliness.
So arrogant! In his refusal to be ruled.
Canny! Seems likes to keep his mouth shut.
Scatterbrained! Forgets every word that he says.[18]
The Zhen Ren, the genuinely human person, is in tune with the cycles of nature and is therefore not upset by the vicissitudes of life. In tune with nature, and with the cycles of yin yang, the True Person is not disturbed or harmed by them. This is sometimes expressed by hyperbole – the True Person cannot drown in the ocean or be burned by fire, and he cannot die. Zhuangzi goes on to hint that there are ways of cultivating or genuine and natural humanity. Through these methods we:
We learn how to identify with that center which functions as an axis of stability around which the cycles of emotional turbulence flow. By maintaining ourselves as a shifting and responding center of gravity we are able to maintain equanimity without giving up our feelings altogether. We enjoy riding the dragon without being thrown around by it. Ordinarily, we are buffeted around like flotsam in a storm, and yet, by holding fast to our ancestral nature, and by following the nature of the environment – by “matching nature with nature” – we free ourselves from the mercy of random circumstances.[19]
Notes:
[1] Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wu_wei
[2] The Philosophy of the Daodejing. Hans-Georg Moeller (New York: Columbia University Press, 2006) p. 49.
[3] Ho-Shang-Kung’s Commentary on Lao-Tse, translated and annotated by Eduard Erkes, p. 98.
[4] Ibid.
[4a) “Death in Classical Daoist Thought.” Bernard Down Philosophy Now – a Magazine of Ideas, Issue 27 https://philosophynow.org/issues/27/Death_in_Classical_Daoist_Thought
[5] The Silent Transformations, by Francois Jullien. Translated by Micahel Richardson and Krzysztof Fijalkowski. London, New York, Calcutta: Seagull Books, 2011, p. 39.
[6] Ibid. p. 33.
[7] Ho-Shang-Kung’s Commentary on Lao-Tse, translated and annotated by Eduard Erkes, p.16.
[8] Ibid.
[9] The Classic of the Way and Virtue Tao-Te-Ching of Lao Zi as interpreted by Wang Bi, Richard John Lynn (New York: Columbia University Press, 1999) p. 61.
[10] Four Books: Great Learning, Doctrine of the Mean. Mencius, and Analects. Five Classics: Classic of Poetry, Book of Documents, book of Rites, Yi Jin, and the Spring & Autumn Annals
[11] Alchemy, Medicine and Religion in the China of AD 320: The Nei Pien of Ko Hung. James R. Ware (trans and ed). p. 328.
[12] The Penumbra Unbound: The Neo-Taoist Philosophy of Guo Xiang. Brook Ziporyn. (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2003) pp. 31-32.
[13] Ho-Shang-Kung’s Commentary on Lao-Tse, translated and annotated by Eduard Erkes, p.20
[14] The Secret Teachings of the Tao Te Ching, pp. 34-5.
[15] Ho-Shang-Kung’s Commentary on Lao-Tse, translated and annotated by Eduard Erkes, p.20
[16] In Praise of Blandness: Proceeding From Chinese Thought and Aesthetics, by Francois Jullien, translated by Paula M. Varsano. New York: Zone Books, 2004, p.51.
[17] Ibid.
[18] Chuang-Tzu: The Inner Chapters, translated by A.C. Graham (Indianapolis IN: Hackett Publishing Co, 1981, 2001) p. 85.
[19] Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy Zhuangzi (Chuang-Tzu, 369—298 B.C.E.) Chapter 6: Da Zong Shi (The Vast Ancestral Teacher) www.iep.utm.edu/zhuangzi/
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