The Essence of the Tao Te Ching
When Laozi traveled west and passed through Hangu Pass, the warden Yin Xi saw purple clouds rising from the east and knew a sage would arrive. He stopped Laozi, and thus the Tao Te Ching was left to the world.
To this day, dozens of versions of the Tao Te Ching have been discovered. Among the best known are the Wang Bi edition, the Heshang Gong edition, the Guodian Chu slips, the Mawangdui manuscripts, the Yan Zun edition, the Fu Yi edition, the Tsinghua bamboo slips, and the Xiang’er commentary.
Today, Laozi is widely regarded as one of China’s greatest philosophers. Yet the division between Daoist philosophy and Daoist religion often restricts interpretations of the Tao Te Ching to philosophy alone. Many people who have not studied it carefully claim that Laozi did not believe in spirits, that Daoists do not speak of them. Even within Daoism, many fail to see its relevance to cultivation. This is regrettable.
If we open Chapter 60, Laozi clearly does not avoid the subject of spirits: “When the Dao rules under Heaven, its spirits lose their power. It is not that the spirits have no power, but that their power does not harm people. When their power does not harm people, the sage also does not harm people.” The meaning is plain: if one aligns with the Dao, spirits no longer cause harm.
The Tao Te Ching explains many truths in straightforward language, yet in reality many treat it as mysterious and unfathomable. Throughout history, countless commentaries have tried to make it obscure, ignoring Laozi’s own words in Chapter 70: “My words are very easy to understand, very easy to practice.” He also foresaw the outcome: “Yet under Heaven no one can understand, no one can practice.” As he wrote: “When the highest hear the Dao, they practice it diligently. When the middling hear it, they waver as if it exists, as if it does not. When the lowest hear it, they laugh at it. If they did not laugh, it would not be the Dao.” The shallow scoff, believing their own views correct. Just as sects worship false spirits without admitting they are false. Or take the saying, “Do good without asking about the future.” This reflects Daoist non-action, yet how many truly embrace it?
Laozi was a genuine cultivator. Much of the Tao Te Ching speaks to cultivation, some passages directly so. He saw not only the workings of the material world but also the unseen forces behind it, such as primal qi (炁, vital energy). From the beginning he urged us to consider both aspects: “Constantly without, one observes the mystery; constantly with, one observes the manifestation. These two arise together yet differ in name. Together they are called profound. Profound and more profound — the gateway to all wonders.”
Take Chapter 50: “Those skilled in preserving life may walk on land without meeting tigers or rhinos, enter battle without armor or weapons. The rhino has nowhere to thrust its horn, the tiger no place to sink its claw, the soldier no means to strike with his blade. Why? Because they have no place of death.” This describes the natural protection born of deep virtue. Yet those ignorant of cultivation misread it as a lesson on health. But what health master dares to walk into tiger country to test it? In Chapter 55 Laozi says, “Bones are weak, sinews soft, yet the grip is firm.” This refers to 握固 (wò gù), a hand seal in which the four fingers wrap around the thumb. It is the natural fist of an infant, and even in sudden injury or fainting, people often clench their hands this way.
The Tao Te Ching was written in simple words because the principles of Heaven and Earth are not complicated. Heaven and Earth are not places for tricks. Even talismans and spells require years of practice; they are not instant powers. Yet people prefer shortcuts and marvels. Thus Laozi said: “The great Way is broad and plain, yet people prefer by-paths.”
He warns against clinging to externals: “The five colors blind the eyes. The five tones deafen the ears. The five flavors dull the mouth. Racing and hunting drive the heart mad. Rare treasures hinder conduct. Therefore the sage wears coarse cloth but carries jade within.” Yet in reality, many pursue music, beauty, delicacies, and finery, even imagining this as Dao. Some neglect family and duty for it. What results? Laozi condemns: “The court is extravagant, the fields are overgrown, the granaries are empty; they wear fine clothes, carry sharp swords, glut themselves on food and drink, pile up wealth — these are thieves, not followers of the Dao.”
Laozi stood before all the Hundred Schools, serving in the Zhou court, yet unlike others he did not aid rulers in building enterprises. Instead he withdrew west through Hangu Pass. Even so, he left a prophecy: Zhou and Qin would separate and reunite after five hundred years; in the seventeenth year of reunion, a hegemon would arise. Though he had this foresight, he rarely used it. In the Tao Te Ching he warned: “Foreknowledge is the flower of the Dao, the beginning of folly.” To cling to it is delusion.
The Tao Te Ching, as its name states, speaks of Dao and virtue. What is the Dao? Seek a definition and you find none. From the opening: “The Dao that can be spoken is not the constant Dao.” Whatever can be named is not eternal. Laozi exalted it: “The Dao is the mystery of all things. There is something formed from chaos, born before Heaven and Earth. Silent and void, it stands alone, unchanging, circulating endlessly. It may be the mother of Heaven and Earth. All things depend on it for life.” Yet he admitted: “I do not know its name. I call it Dao. For lack of a better word, I call it great.” He said: “The Dao is vague and elusive. Looked at, it cannot be seen; listened to, it cannot be heard; grasped at, it cannot be held. Approached, its beginning is not seen; followed, its end is not seen.” And: “Reversal is the movement of the Dao.” Thus its way defies convention. What are we to do? “Weakness is the use of the Dao.” Know the male but keep to the female; know the white but keep to the black. By embracing humility and softness, the Dao works through us.
“All things honor the Dao and esteem virtue. The Dao is honored, virtue esteemed, not by command but of themselves, naturally so.” Therefore: “Those who accord with the Dao are at one with the Dao; those who accord with virtue are at one with virtue; those who accord with loss are at one with loss. To be at one with the Dao, the Dao rejoices in them; with virtue, virtue rejoices in them; with loss, loss rejoices in them.” As one’s heart turns, so does one’s fate. Thus one must be good. “The Dao of Heaven is without favoritism, always with the good.” This goodness is not foolishness but humility, sincerity, justice, skill, and timeliness. From heart to action, the standard is high. Only by discerning true good from false can one reach the highest good and approach the sage’s realm: “The sage has no heart of his own; he takes the hearts of the people as his own.” In other words: “He worries before all others, rejoices after all others.” For the sage, self disappears; only the people remain. “The good I treat with goodness; those not good I also treat with goodness.” He abandons no person, abandons no thing.
Some accuse Laozi of seeking to keep people ignorant. In truth, he opposed not knowledge but cunning. In Chapter 3 he says: “The sage’s rule empties their hearts, fills their bellies, weakens their wills, strengthens their bones. He keeps the people without cunning or desire, so the clever dare not act.” In the Xiang’er commentary, the phrase is “enlightens their hearts” — to awaken the people’s wisdom, cultivate their spirit, and strengthen their bodies, so tricksters dare not act. “Weakens their will” means to weaken contention and greed. It is the same as “doing without striving”: acting naturally, not for gain.
Laozi used many simple maxims: “A tree as wide as a man’s embrace grows from a tiny shoot. A tower nine stories high rises from a heap of earth. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” “Difficult tasks are made easy by beginning with the simple; great tasks by beginning with the small.” “Therefore the sage never attempts the great, and so achieves the great.” “Be as careful at the end as at the beginning, and no work will fail.” “The sage does not hoard. The more he gives, the more he has; the more he shares, the more overflows.” These teach humility, patience, and dialectical thought: “Misfortune is where fortune rests; fortune is where misfortune hides.” “The straight turns into the crooked, the good into the uncanny.” “To shrink, first stretch. To weaken, first strengthen. To abolish, first promote. To take, first give.” “Being and non-being give birth to each other, hard and easy complete each other, long and short measure each other, high and low support each other, sound and tone harmonize, front and back follow.”
Another common misreading is of non-action. Some think it means to do nothing. In fact, it is a state: to support the natural course of things without forcing. Thus wherever non-action appears in the Tao Te Ching, it is non-action that leaves nothing undone. In Chapter 81: “The Dao of Heaven benefits and does not harm; the Dao of man acts but does not contend.”
Laozi’s Dao, in small, cultivates life; in great, governs the state. “The people are hungry because their rulers take too much in taxes. Thus they hunger.” Every flourishing age lightened taxes. “The people are hard to govern because their rulers meddle. Thus they are hard to govern.” Leave them to develop and prosperity arises. “The ancients who practiced the Dao did not seek to enlighten the people, but to keep them simple. The people are hard to govern because they have much cunning. With cunning, the state is harmed; without it, the state is blessed.” To govern with craft is to ruin the nation; to govern openly is to bless it. “Govern with uprightness; use craft in war.” “If I am without striving, the people transform. If I love stillness, the people become upright. If I am without affairs, the people prosper. If I am without desire, the people return to simplicity.” Laozi also saw the burden of rulership: “He who bears the nation’s disgrace is called its ruler; he who bears the nation’s misfortune is called king of the world.”
His words are “plain and without taste; looked at, they cannot be seen; listened to, they cannot be heard; used, they cannot be exhausted.” Ordinary, yet endless in use. If we follow them: “Cultivate it in oneself and virtue is true; in the family, virtue is abundant; in the village, virtue grows; in the state, virtue is great; in the world, virtue is universal.”
