Mysticism, Self-Cultivation and Longevity

(Part 4.4 – – – Part 4.2 – – – Part 4.1 – – – Part 3 – – – Part 2 – – – Part 1)

Mysticism and quietistic self-cultivation practices have long been associated with the classical Daoist texts of Laozi 老子 and Zhuangzi 莊子. The concern with longevity has primarily been associated with the figure of Laozi and the religion that deified him. In the 19th and first three quarters of the 20th centuries, Western scholars regularly described Laozi and Zhuangzi as mystics or quietists. In the past thirty years, however, these texts have been analyzed and interpreted more for their philosophy than for their religious practices or a broader holistic understanding of the spiritual and philosophical content.[1] My hope is to give both the philosophical and religious or spiritual aspects their due.

In the mid 1930’s, both Arthur Waley and Henri Maspero stressed the quietism and mysticism of the Laozi and Zhuangzi. Waley described the early Daoists as quietists who used breath-control and yoga to induce “self-hypnosis” and trance,[2] and suspected that it originated in the “cleansing of the heart” that a sacrificer or spirit medium underwent.[3] Maspero held that Laozi and Zhuangzi were mystics who, by union or identification with the Dao, participated in its immortality. They were mystics rather than practitioners of breathing and physical exercises, for Laozi “had found in ecstasy a short cut which, through union with the Dao, avoided the wearisome practices of the other [Daoist] schools.”[4] He believed that Laozi and Zhuangzi, along with Liezi 列子, Guan Yin 關尹 and Qu Yuan 屈原 were a minor branch of Daoism at the time, a Daoism whose main focus was immortality.[5]

Objecting to Maspero’s perspective, Herrlee Creel pointed out that the cult of immortality was not associated with early Daoists. The most prominent seekers of immortality were the Qin First Emperor 秦始皇帝 (c. 260 BC – 210 B.C.E.) and the Han Emperor Wu 漢武帝 (156 – 87 B.C.E.), yet neither of them were said to have any interest in Laozi, Zhuangzi, or “Daojia.”[6] The legendary Yellow Emperor (Huangdi 黃帝), who became known amongst immortality-seekers as a patron saint-type figure is likewise not connected to Laozi (or Zhuangzi) in the pre-Han sources.[7] Creel acknowledged that references to immortality, longevity and certain spiritual practices are to be found in the Zhuangzi; however, he believed these are either misinterpreted or are “isolated passages” that are over-emphasized by scholars like Maspero.[8] This is a matter to be taken seriously, especially since the early texts such as the Zhuangzi contain the writings of numerous authors, who should not be taken to have identical aims or philosophies. However, we should also be hesitant to disregard certain passages because they do not fit our own conceptions. D.C. Lau, for example, argued against any mysterious doctrines in the Laozi,[9] but admitted that chapter 10 suggests a “breathing exercise or perhaps even yogic practice.” Yet Lau suggested this is an “isolated passage” that properly belonged to a different school of immortality seekers.[10] Arguably, the Laozi is not chalk full of mystical doctrines, references to self-cultivation practices or prescriptions for longevity, but these so-called “isolated passages” need to find their place in our interpretations rather than be dismissed.

Angus Graham conceived of a “deep end” and a “shallow end” of Daoist self-cultivation practices. The deep end was authentic mystical experiences of oneness, whereas the shallow end served as a “means to relaxation, poise, loosening of habit, creativity, quickening of responsiveness … using meditative techniques to enhance [one’s] efficiency. The author of Laozi certainly sounds familiar with the deep end, but the book has had many readers who, far from sharing the Daoist renunciation of fixed goals, sought in it only a mental discipline in the service of their ends.”[11] Mark Csikszentmihalyi agrees that the authors of the Laozi were familiar with this “deep end,” but cautions that “there is nothing to show that the use of meditational vocabulary is anything but metaphorical.”[12] This is especially important to take into account with regards to the Zhuangzi as well, as most scholars recognize that many of the stories of spirit journeys and such serve as metaphors for spiritual liberation and may not describe or advocate actual practices.

Robert Allinson argues that spiritual transformation – the major theme of the Zhuangzi, in his view – is achieved by reading the “systematically and artfully arranged” text of the Zhuangzi rather than through self-cultivation practices or mystical experiences,[13] and is akin to an extended textual kōan.[14] He regards the text as “a single line of philosophical development which aims at inducing as well as describing different levels of spiritual development”[15] and would appear to regard the various passages describing self-cultivation, mysticism or shamanism to be merely instrumental to transforming the reader’s level of consciousness. While such transformation is certainly possible for readers, and may have even played a part in Guo Xiang’s editorial designs, we cannot make such assumptions about the original authors of the text. This is not to say that the original authors did not intend or hope that their writings may stimulate and foster self-transformation in their readers, but only that 1) the arrangement and ordering of specific passages is the result of later editors, not the original authors, and 2) the practices may have been a central aspect of their tradition. Allinson begins with the assumption that not only are the Inner Chapters the authentic work of Zhuangzi, but that they are deliberately written and arranged by him – an assumption I cannot support.[16]

Scholars such as Benjamin Schwartz, Ellen Chen, Randall Peerenboom, Isabelle Robinet, Livia Kohn, Jordan Paper and Harold Roth all support the view that these texts are part of a mystical tradition, or include the writings of mystics. Harold Roth, the foremost expert and defender of this view, asserts that mystical praxis is at the heart of both the Laozi and Zhuangzi (and some other texts). He maintains that the Daoists “followed and recommended to others an apophatic practice of breathing meditation aimed at the mystical realization of the Way and its integration into their daily lives.”[17] Michael LaFargue agrees that these early practitioners had “extraordinary experiences” but resists calling these mystical.[18] Indeed, many of the passages we will explore do not suggest a unitive experience but are rather examples of Quietism, or are simply quietistic in nature.

Finally, in A Daoist Theory of Thought, Chad Hansen rejects what he calls “the ruling interpretive theory,” “the ruling Confucian perspective,” and/or the “the dogmatic mystical-monist interpretation” of Zhuangzi because it removes him from the “philosophical culture” of Classical China.[19] In my view, “Zhuangzi” had a foot in both the philosophical and the religious cultures. Hansen regards the later chapters (non-Inner Chapters) to “combine Daoist ideas with the more superstitious and dogmatic positions that proliferated toward the end of the classical period.”[20] I concur with Eric Sean Nelson, who writes

Hansen rightly argues that Zhuangzi’s dao should be understood in its ancient Chinese context. He himself fails to do this in focusing on its “philosophical” context to the exclusion of its proto-Daoist “religious” context that informed the text and later religious Daoist traditions in varied ways. The significance of proto-Daoist biospiritual practices in particular should inform interpreting the Zhuangzi, given that the text is littered with references (ironic and otherwise) to the sages who cultivate reality, riding the wind and living on mist, proper breathing and longevity, as well as to emptying the self and freely responding in accordance with dao. The presence of these motifs in the Inner Chapters – including Hansen’s preferred chapter two, the Qiwulun (齊物論), which begins with a scene of meditation and concludes with the “transformation of things” – indicates that its authors were responding to beliefs and practices later associated with religious Daoism.[21]

I have used the terms quietism, mysticism, shamanism and self-cultivation. Before proceeding, it would be prudent to explain how I am using the terms.

Quietism, as I use the term, refers to the practice(s) of achieving and maintaining a tranquil, serene and unperturbed mind, possibly accompanied with a relaxed body. In such a state, the Divine, however construed, takes the lead in, or becomes the agent of one’s actions. Arthur Waley seems to have been the first to use it with regards to ancient China and the Daoists in particular. Many of the “knack-stories” in the Zhuangzi fit with this conception of quietism, as when the butcher Ding quiets his senses, empties his mind, and allows his spirit (shen 神) to guide him through the natural inherent patterns in the oxen he works with.[22] Further, the notions of spontaneous response/adaptation often appear to be examples of quietism insofar as the person, after clearing and quieting his or her mind, finds himself/herself spontaneously adapting to situations with a perfect fit, as if something divine were guiding him/her. As A.C. Graham put it: “The Daoist’s motions derive not from himself as man but from Heaven working through him.”[23] I shall use “quietistic” to refer to practices that consist of emptying and quieting of the mind, such as apophatic meditation, despite lacking explicit claims of “divine” inspiration or agency. Quietism is closely linked to mysticism, especially Harold Roth’s so-called “bi-modal” mysticism, whereby one’s mode of being is profoundly transformed by the mystic unitive experience.

In this essay, “mysticism” primarily refers to the practice(s) of achieving union with either a divinity or reality as a whole. This unitive experience is transpersonal by nature; that is, one’s sense of identity extends beyond oneself, and may be thought of as building upon the shamanic experience of communication and interaction (and possible union) with spirits and/or deities.[24] Jordan Paper mentions (the anthropologist/participant) Agehananda Bharati’s view that the mystic experience is “the person’s intuition of a numerical oneness with the cosmic absolute, with the universal matrix, or with any essence stipulated by the various theological and speculative systems of the world.”[25] Ken Wilber describes several types or stages of mysticism. It would appear that the early Chinese evidence points to what he calls “formless mysticism.” These mystics were the first to enter the “causal realm,” who entered into

… the purely formless realm of sheer Emptiness, the causal of unmanifest absorption – nirvana, the cloud of unknowing, apophatic, nirvikalpa Samadhi, nirodh, cessation. But far from being a literal ‘nothing’ or stark blankness, Emptiness is the creative ground of all that is (hence ‘causal’) – a vast Freedom and infinite Openness whose very discovery means Liberation from the world of form, suffering, sin, and samsara. Whereas, in the subtle [realm], the soul and God find a communion or even union, in the causal, the soul and God both disappear into Godhead – the Atman that is Brahman, the Supreme Identity of the Sufi, ‘I and the Father are One,’ the separate self dissolves in Emptiness – and deity mysticism gives way to formless mysticism, the mysticism of the Abyss, the great Cloud of Unknowing, the Consciousness that is infinitely within and beyond the manifest world altogether.[26]

Words like “formless,” “emptiness,” “the abyss” and reference to the “creative ground of all that is” should remind us of the descriptions given in the last essay of the Dao in the Laozi, Zhuangzi and Huainanzi 淮南子, which is also “infinitely within and beyond the manifest world.” Randall Peerenboom regards this mystical consciousness as “the state of pure, undifferentiatedness (Wu 無) as opposed to awareness of and in the distinction-laden phenomenal world (You 有)”[27] and cites Robert Forman’s description of the “pure consciousness event,” in which “one is awake and alert but devoid of any and all objects of consciousness. One entertains therein no feeling, sensation, thought, perception, or even the realization, ‘Oh, now I am having an unusual experience.’”[28] It would seem that some of the contributors to the Laozi, Zhuangzi and Huainanzi had these purportedly ineffable experiences, for, despite its invisibility and intangibility, they affirmed the reality of the underlying dynamism of the universe (i.e. the Dao). We can be fairly confident that they didn’t affirm its existence based on thorough intellectual cogitation, as the authors consistently derided this type of mental activity. However, as discussed in the last essay, the more detailed cosmological expositions are undoubtedly works of the intellect, complete with its inherent cultural conditioning and subjective concerns, regardless of whether they originated in mystical experience.[29]

Angus Graham, Lee Yearley and Harold Roth observe that for the early Chinese mystics, the mystic unitive experience is not in itself of ultimate value, but rather value is found in what is sometimes called the “extrovertive” aspect; that is, union with the Dao is but a necessary step along the way to the actual “goal” of self-transformation, of the application of the experience/insight to the mundane world.[30] In Original Tao, Roth writes

Some sources imply further that this condition of unitary consciousness is temporary and that upon returning to normal differentiating consciousness the concerns of the self that had previously characterized one’s conscious experience are no longer present. Therefore the sage thus transformed becomes selfless, impartial, unmoved by common passions and prejudices, and singularly able to respond spontaneously and harmoniously to any situations that arise and to exert a numinous influence upon them. It is no wonder that the fruits of these practices became so desirable to those who governed. It promised a sagely, almost divine clarity and the attendant wisdom not only to govern efficaciously but to also achieve total personal fulfillment.[31]

Shamanism, as I use the term, refers to a type of spirituality or religion which serves to connect human communities to other spiritual realms/entities. The shaman is one who, by means of some sort of ecstatic experience, communicates with spiritual entities to serve his or her community. This commonly involves spiritual journeys or flights to other realms, communicating with spirits, gods or ghosts (divinities) to obtain information or some other sort of aid for those whom the shaman is working. Shamanism is related, though distinct from mediumism, for, among other things, the shaman is in control, whereas the medium relinquishes control to the spirit (who possesses his or her body).[32] Most scholars of ancient China do not make this distinction, and refer to the Wu 巫 as a shaman; however, among other duties such as exorcism and funeral rites, the Wu is a medium: his or her spirit does not ascend to the heavens in the course of the trance.[33] In fact, so many duties are ascribed to the Wu in the extant literature that it may be more accurate to call them simply “ritual specialists,” as Michael Puett advocates.[34] Jordan Paper hypothesized that Xian 僊 was a term that originally referred to an actual shaman, though the evidence for this is slim.[35] K.C. Chang and some of his Chinese contemporaries have argued that shamanism was the principal religion in the Shang Dynasty.[36] The evidence for this is equally slim. David Keightley finds Shang religion, as seen on the oracle-bone inscriptions, to be too bureaucratic to be deemed shamanic, although he suspects shamanism existed prior to the Shang. For example, he writes:

The well-ordered, bureaucratic nature of the [divination] diagnosis and its record do not share the inspirational and generally non-literate activities of shamans in other cultures. Furthermore, the king whether divining about his own illness (as was usually the case) or those of others was able to make his diagnosis sur place; he took no voyage to another realm. His diviners cracked the bones, he read the cracks, he offered his sacrifices, all in a process of quasi-bureaucratic divination that took place in his cult center at Xiaotun.[37]

In some of the literature of early (southern) China, such as the poem “Departing in Sorrow” (Li Sao 離騷) by Qu Yuan 屈原 and some stories in the Zhuangzi and Huainanzi, we find shamanic spirit flights described, but the protagonist-shamans are distinctly asocial; that is, they undertake their spirit journeys for personal reasons and not in the service of the community. Åke Hultkrantz has defined a shaman as “a religio-magical practitioner who, on behalf of society and with the aid of guardian spirit(s), enters into a trance (ecstasy) to establish contact with the powers of the other world.”[38] Jordan Paper quotes Helmut Hoffman, discussing Tibetan religion: “The shaman establishes his connection with the supernatural world in trance not for the sake of his personal experience (like the mystic or ecstatic of almost all higher religions) but for the well being of the group.”[39] These spirit journeys may be thought of as higher or altered states of consciousness that the shaman accesses by various means (e.g., dance, chanting, hallucinogenic substances, etc.). It may also be understood as a kind of dream state entered while still conscious.[40] Alternately, descriptions of celestial journeys may often be allegorical, as Qu Yuan’s Li Sao surely is, often appearing to be metaphors for freedom from mundane concerns and limitations, perhaps based on (orally-transmitted) stories involving shamans (Chinese or foreign).[41] In these cases, the authors themselves were not shamans or undertaking shamanic spirit journeys. The poems of Qu Yuan and his admirers (in the Chuci 楚辭) that describe spiritual journeys do not indicate that they were professional shamans (or mediums) serving their communities, although perhaps they chose not to write about their public affairs. While some may have undertaken celestial journeys themselves, others undoubtedly appropriated the reports or tales of the phenomenon to create their poems. Livia Kohn believes that the Chuci “is among the foremost documents of shamanism in pre-Han China,”[42] where she identifies the protagonists in the poems to be shamans. Isabelle Robinet also believes the Chuci to be the product or “written remnant” of southern shamanism, of the Wu.[43] It is unclear whether they consider the authors to be shamans or not. Something resembling shamanism seems to have existed in Chu 楚, though we have no records of shamans undertaking celestial journeys to serve their communities. Moreover, in those cases where spirit journeys are described, how the ecstatic trance was induced is not mentioned, (if ecstasy was involved at all), and again, they are not called Wu 巫.

As for “self-cultivation,” Romain Graziani’s eloquent definition will suffice:

Self-cultivation comprises exercises and practices that concern the health of the body, the honing of sensory perception (chiefly seeing and hearing), the mastery of mental workings (feeling, thinking, speaking), and the efficacy of action. These exercises often take the form of a discipline of emotions, passions, and desires, ethical attention to one’s words and deeds, and meditation leading to a cosmic conscience enabling one to shed individual biases, petty worries and attachment to the ego. They imply a constant effort of the will until natural spontaneity takes over partial ways of responding and acting. Self-cultivation thus presupposes without explicitly stating it a deep faith in human moral liberty and in the possibility of perfecting oneself.[44]

Laozi

Chapter 51 of the Hanfeizi 韓非子 contains the following passage:

世之所為烈士者，離眾獨行，取異於人，為恬淡之學而理恍惚之言。臣以為恬淡，無用之教也；恍惚，無法之言也。… 恍惚之言，恬淡之學，天下之惑術也。

This generation has some distinguished men, independent of the crowd, walking alone (du 獨). Choosing to be different from others, they teach (the practice) of quietism (Tiandan 恬淡) and explain it in insensible and mysterious (Huanghu 恍惚) terms. Your servant regards this quietism to be a useless teaching and (terms that are) insensible and mysterious lack (necessary) standards … Words that are insensible and mysterious and teaching (practices of) quietism are methods for confusing the world.[45]

The word I have followed Arthur Waley in translating as “quietism” is Tiandan 恬淡.[46] Tian means tranquil and peaceful and Dan means calm, indifferent or insipid. The combination of these two terms, sometimes with synonymous variants such as Dan 惔 or Dan 澹, or by themselves, appear in numerous texts that are associated with “classical Daoism.” It occurs once in the received text of the Laozi, chapter 31, where “one who possesses the Dao” (youdaozhe 有道者), or the “gentleman” (Junzi 君子)[47] is calm and dispassionate with regards to the use of weapons in an inevitable conflict.[48] It also appears (sometimes with the variants mentioned above) in several chapters of the Zhuangzi, the Huainanzi, the Chuci, the Shiji 史記 and the Lunheng 論衡 (with reference to Laozi).[49] Tiandan would appear to refer to a state of mind in which one is as lucid as calm, clean water; a tranquil and rarefied state of consciousness, which is characteristic of meditation, reverie and sometimes trance. Huang 恍 and Hu 惚, “insensible and mysterious,” appear prominently in Laozi 21 as well as chapter 14 to describe the elusiveness and difficulty of trying to conceptualize the Dao, which is comparable to the attempted descriptions by mystics of other cultures. Finally, chapter 20 would seem to be a personal account of someone who is “independent of the crowd” and “walks alone”:

…

眾人熙熙，

如春登臺。

我獨泊兮其未兆，

如嬰兒之未孩。

…

澹兮其若海;

飂兮若無止。

眾人皆有以，

而我獨頑且鄙。

我獨欲異於人，

而貴食母。

The masses are bright and cheerful,

As if enjoying the Tailao ceremony,

As if climbing a terrace in spring.

I alone am calm! Giving no signs (of excitement),

Like an infant who has yet to smile.

…

Serene! Like the ocean;

Billowing! Like it will never stop.

The masses all have their purposes;

Yet I alone am set in my seemingly foolish ways.

I alone desire to be different from others,

And value partaking of the Mother.[50]

Although this author feels alienated from his society, he enjoys an inner peace that sustains him through a connection to the cosmic Dao, the Mother.[51] Hanfei, however, could see nothing positive about individuals such as this. Chapter 52 informs us that if we could “obtain” (de 得) and “return and abide by the world’s Mother” (fu shou qi Mu 復守其母) we will suffer no harm until the end of our days. We are cautioned:

塞其兌，閉其門，終身不勤。

開其兌，濟其事，終身不逨。[52]

Block the holes, close the gates: finish one’s life without struggling.



Open the holes, multiply one’s affairs: fail to reach the (natural) end to one’s life.

The holes (dui 兌) we are advised to close are the nose and mouth, the gates (men 門) are the ears and eyes.[53] This represents a conservative or quasi-ascetic approach to life, seen throughout the Laozi. Allowing our senses to take the reins leads to overstimulation, loss of acuity and perhaps even madness or death.[54] A similar message is given in chapter 56:

塞其兑，閉其門，



挫其銳，解其紛，



和其光，同其塵，



是謂玄同。

Block the holes, close the gates,



Blunt the sharp-edged, untie the knots,



Soften the glare, become identical to the dust,



This is called Mysterious Identity.

The middle two lines are also found in chapter 4 of the Laozi where they help describe the “activity” of the primordial ancestor, Dao. Here, it goes farther than the previous chapter’s asceticism and proposes that one can attain a state of consciousness lacking in all distinctions, (e.g. the “sharp-edged” and “knots”), and achieve a mysterious identity (Xuan Tong 玄同) with reality, or, most likely, the Dao. This is achieved by (temporarily) undergoing a kind of sensory deprivation (“Block the holes, close the gates”), in addition to what Harold Roth and Randall Peerenboom refer to as “apophatic meditation.” This involves a “systematic process of negating, forgetting, or emptying out the contents of consciousness (perceptions, emotions, desires, thoughts) found in ordinary experience based in the ego-self. This systematic emptying leads to increasingly profound states of tranquility until one experiences a fully concentrated inner consciousness of unity.”[55] Many scholars hold that this involves a specific breathing practice (xishu 息術/ huxishu 呼吸術) as found in Indian and other traditions, though virtually nothing is written about this in the Laozi. Likewise, Holmes Welsh, in his examination of the Laozi’s mysticism, discovered no allusions to mystic visions nor any indication of ecstatic experiences in the text.[56]

The practice of emptying out one’s mind is explicitly advocated in the opening section of Laozi 16; which reads, “Bring about the peak of emptiness, preserve stillness in earnest” (致虛極也，守靜篤也).[57] This chapter advocates this state of mind to enable one to observe (guan 觀) the cyclical nature of the world and lives of living things, much like chapter 1’s “(Maintain a state of) abiding desirelessness, in order to observe the subtleties (of the world)” (恆無欲也，以觀其眇).[58] One can thereby understand the constants (chang 常) of the world, which brings a measure of enlightenment (ming 明) and allows one to embody the Dao. As a result, “to the end of one’s life (one will face) no danger (moshen budai 沒身不殆). As with chapter 52, one of the benefits of this practice or approach to life is the freedom to live out one’s natural lifespan, a value or ideal we find in the Laozi, Zhuangzi and some other texts.[59]

“Stillness” or “tranquility” (jing 靜) occurs often in the Laozi and would appear to be an important concept. We have already encountered it in chapter 16, in the context of stilling or calming the mind. Chapter 15 suggests that although one may be unsettled or confused, through stillness one will gradually gain clarity (qing 清), which is another valued mental state. Hence, chapter 45 claims that “clarity and stillness (can) stabilize the world” (清靜為天下正)[60] and chapter 61 offers an analogy for success in perceiving that “the female consistently uses stillness to overcome the male” (牝恆以靜勝牡).

The above use descriptive language to offer prescriptions for desirable or valuable results, whether those valuable results occur within the practitioner or, in the case where the practitioner is a ruler or minister, in the state/world at large. The Laozi contains many passages that recommend or foster calmness of mind: stillness, tranquility, simplicity, desirelessness, and a focus on the simple necessities of life rather than luxuries or redundancies. Hence we are encouraged to “preserve equilibrium” (shouzhong 守中),[61] to abandon unnecessary and redundant moralizing and virtues indoctrination and instead “reveal one’s genuine condition, embrace one’s natural simplicity, reduce one’s private interests, and lessen one’s desires” (jiansu baopu, shaosi guayu 見素抱樸, 少私寡欲),[62] to “know contentment” (zhizu 知足),[63] and read of sages who are “disposed to stillness” (haojing 好靜) and who are “without desire” (wuyu 無欲),[64] and who “do not desire to be full” (buyu ying 不欲盈).[65]

The 55th chapter of the Laozi begins by asserting that “One who harbours an abundance of De can be compared with a newborn infant” (含德之厚者比於赤子). Infants have a pacifying presence or influence (De 德) that is difficult to resist. Although the word Xiu 修 (alt. 脩), which means to repair, maintain, refine, cultivate or adorn, is rare in Daoist texts, the previous chapter of the Laozi declares that if maintained or cultivated, one’s De will be far-reaching. Although it doesn’t disclose how one cultivates one’s De, taking infants as models may be productive. Anne Behnke Kinney observes:

Earlier schemes of self-cultivation often began with an adult practitioner who was encouraged to follow a path of progressive development toward a sagely ideal in keeping with the worthies of antiquity. Texts that promote meditation on fetal growth, however, show how reversing human development allows the practitioner to trace the path from the ‘sub-system’ of human life back to the ‘macro-system of the Dao’ … by tracing the origins of human life back to a cosmogonic process, the fetus is linked to the workings and laws of nature, rather than with the ancestors and the imperfect products of human artifice.[66]

Chapter 55 goes on to disclose that the newborn also contains a high level of potency or vital essence (jing 精) as well as (inner) harmony (he 和). The text continues:

知和曰常。

知常曰明。

益生曰祥。

心使氣曰強。

物壯則老，

謂之不道。

不道早已。

Knowing harmony can be called (being) constant.

Knowing constancy can be called (being) enlightened.

Augmenting one’s vitality can be called inauspicious.

The heart-mind constraining the vital energy can be called forcing.

When things are in their prime and yet are fatigued:

Call this not (following) the way (dao).

Not (following) the way, (one comes to) an early end.[67]

Although scholarly consensus supports my interpretation whereby using one’s mind to enhance or control one’s vitality or vital energy is ill-advised and detrimental, it is also possible to translate the 3rd and 4th lines as “to increase one’s vitality can be called auspicious; the mind controlling one’s vital energy can be called (possessing inner) strength.”[68] Here again we find the interest in preserving one’s life, not indefinitely or unnaturally, but by not doing things that would cut it short. Chapter 42 supports this when it assures us that trying to increase or augment (yi 益) something often quickens its decrease (sun 損) and that “those who are forceful and violent will not realize a (natural) death” (強梁者，不得其死). Chapter 55’s mentioning of the mind (xin 心), essence (jing 精), vital energy (qi 氣), harmony (he 和) and vitality or life (sheng 生) would appear to connect at least this chapter to the Guanzi’s 管子 so-called “Techniques of the Mind” (Xinshu 心術) chapters that we will examine later on.

Above we saw the newborn infant being held up as an example of perfection, and earlier the author of Laozi 20 likened himself to a child who had yet to be subjected to the various stimulants of life. Chapters 28 and 10 also refer to a “state of infancy” as something to aspire to. Chapter 28 contains the recommendation to “always (ensure that) your De doesn’t depart. (When your) De never departs, there will be a return to an infant–like state (恆德不離。恆德不離，復歸於嬰兒).[69] In rhetorical question-form, chapter 10 provides some self-cultivation instruction:

載營魄抱一，能無離乎

專氣致柔，能嬰兒乎

滌除玄覽，能無疵乎

Giving support to your disruptive soul[70] and embracing Unity – can you not depart from it?

Concentrating on your qi and inducing it to become soft[71] – can you become like an infant?

Washing and cleaning your mysterious mirror – can you make it flawless?

This chapter goes on to hint at how to intelligently “care for the people and order the state” (aimin zhiguo 愛民治國) and foster life without recourse to knowledge and action.[72] The lines of this chapter appear to be esoteric phrases that were understood more clearly by insiders to this tradition.[73] They would appear to be lessons for preserving and perfecting oneself as well as having practical benefits (for a ruler or government official). In chapter 23 of the Zhuangzi, Laozi offers some “guidelines for protecting life” (weisheng zhi Jing 衞生之經), which include a variation of the first two lines: “Can you embrace Oneness? Can you not lose it? … Can you be unsophisticated? Can you become (like) an infant?” (能抱一乎？能勿失乎？ … 能侗然乎？能兒子乎).[74] Laozi explains further:

兒子動不知所為，行不知所之，身槁木之枝而心若死灰。若是者，禍亦不至，福亦不來。禍福無有，惡有人災也！

An infant moves but does not know what it is doing, it carries on but does not know where it is going. It’s body (is like) the limb of a withered tree, its mind is like lifeless ashes. To be like this, misfortune will not arrive and good fortune will not come. When there is neither (recognition of) misfortune or good fortune, how can such a person suffer?

Regarding becoming like an infant, the Heshanggong commentary (Heshanggong Zhangju 河上公章句) explains that “If one can be like an infant, inwardly without worrisome thought and outwardly without political action, then the essence and spirit will not go away.” (能如嬰兒內無思慮，外無政事，則精神不去也).[75] Here, as is often the case in this tradition, one’s life is being safe-guarded and equanimity is being achieved psychologically.[76] The Laozi here appears to describe a practice involving calming one’s spirit by means of soft and regulated breathing and embracing or retaining a state of being centred and undividedly focused (yi 一). Heshanggong tells us that “one who regulates one’s person exhales and inhales the essential breath, without letting the ear hear it” (治身者呼吸精氣，無令耳聞). Further, when the mind achieves a mirror-like quality that can be kept free from flaws, this allows one to “care for the people and order the state” in an unbiased, intuitive and unassertive manner.[77]

Additionally, the “Far-off Journey” (Yuanyou 遠遊) poem of the Chuci borrows the opening few characters in a line which reads, “Settling my troubled sentient-soul, to ascend the auroras, I gather up a floating cloud, and journey above” (載營魄而登霞兮，掩浮雲而上征),[78] which perhaps fleshes out the setting or domain for this type of discourse. For the Yuanyou poet, the supporting and calming of one’s soul (po 魄) is a precursor to a spirit journey to the heavens above. Many passages in the Zhuangzi, Huainanzi and Chuci speak of such celestial spirit journeys, of riding dragons or clouds to fantastic places. It is often difficult to decide whether these are descriptions of actual shamanic or quasi-shamanic spirit journeys, are embellished accounts of (ineffable) mystical experiences of union, or are literary metaphors for liberation or some other such aim.

The last line of chapter 33 of the Laozi literally reads, “To die and yet not perish (wang 亡) is longevity” (死而不亡者壽也) and has caused people over the centuries to wonder if the author was referring to a form of immortality,[79] or that identification with the eternal Dao rendered one eternal as well. While the Confucian-sounding version of the Mawangdui recension – “To die and yet not be forgotten (wang 忘) is longevity” – has pleased modern interpreters, the Heshanggong commentary offers a more likely reading: “When the eyes do not recklessly look; the ears do not recklessly listen; the mouth does not recklessly speak; then one will not be resented or hated by the world. Therefore one lives long” (目不妄視，耳不妄聽，口不妄言，則無怨惡於天下，故長壽). In other words, to die, yet not from recklessness (wang 妄), is what is meant by longevity.[80]

Laozi 22 opens with the aphorism: “bent, then (remain) intact” (qu ze quan 曲則全), and goes on to explain that sages do not show off, brag or contend with others. In this way, they are respected and are not themselves contended with.[81] This would seem less to be counsel for a ruler, but a minister or government official from the perspective of one who has witnessed that those who are overly ambitious, assertive, who clamour for attention and strive to make a name for themselves tend to be put down, or worse, to be cut down. Laozi’s reputation for humility, modesty and staying out of the limelight perhaps derived from such observations, as did Zhuangzi’s fondness for useless trees who could remain intact (quan 全) until the end of their natural lives.[82] Such advice obviously speaks to someone who values their life. Laozi 44 begins with: “Fame our your body – which is more dear? Your body or your possessions – which has more (value)?” (名與身孰親？身與貨孰多？) and ends with: “(If you) know contentment you will not be disgraced, know when to stop you will not be endangered, (then you) can long endure” (知足不辱，知止不殆，可以長久).[83]

This valuing of life and concern for avoiding conduct that may cut short one’s life was shared by Yangzi or Yang Zhu 楊朱 (c. early 4th century B.C.E.?), a thinker caricatured and criticized in the Mengzi 孟子 (3B9, 7A26), occasionally criticized in the Zhuangzi, but endorsed by some of the authors of the Huainanzi. For example, Huainanzi 13 conceived of Yangzi’s main tenets as “Keeping your nature intact, protecting your authenticity, not allowing things to entangle your form” (全性保真，不以物累形).[84] In the summarizing last chapter, it is said of the Huainanzi’s first chapter: “If you desire a single expression to awaken to it: ‘Revere the heavenly and preserve genuineness.’ If you desire a second expression to comprehend it: ‘Devalue things and honor your person.’ If you desire a third expression to fathom it: ‘Divest yourself of desires and return to your genuine dispositions,’”[85] which clearly is “Yangism,” (or at least what the author considered Yangism).[86]

Yet we would be mistaken to conclude that the authors of the Laozi were obsessed with staying alive. Chapters 50 and 75 give warnings about striving for an “abundance of life” (sheng zhi hou 生之厚), for this can lead to death (si 死). Similarly, Alan Watts once wrote, “The more one is anxious to survive, the less survival is worth the trouble … there is a considerable and normally unexpected survival value in the very absence of anxiety to survive.”[87] Chapter 75 concludes: “Only those who do not act for the (sole) purpose of living are wiser than those who value life (immoderately)” (唯無以生為者，是賢於貴生).[88] More to the point, Laozi 7 offers an analogy where the heavens and Earth last long because they do not “live for themselves” (zisheng 自生). For this reason, sages

後其身而身先，

外其身而身存。

非以其無私邪？

故能成其私。

Subordinate their persons, yet their persons come first.

Dispossess their persons, yet their persons persist.

Is this not because they do not (focus on their) self-interest?

Therefore, they are able to accomplish their self-interest.

What we find here, which we also will see later with regards to the notion of Wuwei 無為, “non-purposive action” or “non-interference,” is that striving after consciously-determined goals (such as survival) is often counterproductive. The authors of the Laozi (and Zhuangzi) had faith that things will sort themselves out naturally and that desired goals are often realized by indirect means.

Despite this, Wang Chong’s 王充 (c. 27-100 C.E.) “Balanced Discourses” (Lunheng 論衡) testifies to the development of the belief that Laozi was concerned with, and was associated with longevity and immortality. He wrote,

世或以老子之道為可以度世，恬淡無欲，養精愛氣。夫人以精神為壽命，精神不傷，則壽命長而不死。成事：老子行之，踰百度世，為真人矣。

There is a belief that by means of the way (dao) of Laozi one can transcend the world. Through quietism and dispassionateness, nourishing the vital essence, and conserving the vital breath. The length of life is based on the quintessential spirit. As long as it is unimpaired, life goes on, and there is no death. Laozi acted upon this principle. Having done so for over a hundred years, he transcended the world, and became a true Daoist sage (Zhenren).[89]

Instead, Wang argues that Laozi

行恬淡之道，偶其性命亦自壽長。世見其命壽，又聞其恬淡，則謂老子以術度世矣。

practiced his way of quietism, and his life happened to be long of itself. But people seeing his longevity, and hearing of his quietism, thought that by his art he transcended the world.[90]

John Blofeld acknowledged that it is difficult to know if any kind of “formal yogic practice” is entailed in following the Laozi’s advice. However,

whatever Laozi may have intended, the fact is that the injunction [to be selfless and still] is difficult to carry out; for which reason all kinds of yogic regimens and devices were subsequently developed as aids to attainment, but such practical aids ought not be considered a departure from or perversion of his teaching; rather, they constitute a much needed development, for not all men are equally gifted with a capacity for stillness. Furthermore, the absence in the Daodejing of specific instructions on contemplative and breathing techniques does not necessarily mean that Laozi did not countenance them. In an exceptionally terse text dealing with basic principles, one would not expect to find detailed instructions of that kind.[91]

In contrast to the Laozi’s vagueness, Wang Chong writes of the “Daoists” or “dao-specialists” (daojia 道家), who “ingest vital energy” (shiqi 食氣), “abstain from eating grains” (pigu 辟穀) and “ingest drugs” (tunyao 吞藥) – or the “drugs of immortality” (busi zhi yao 不死之藥). These practitioners also argued that “guiding the vital energy (through their bodies)” (daoqi 導氣) by means of “moving, shaking, contracting and stretching” (dongyao qushen 動搖屈伸) was not only needed to ensure circulation and nourish one’s nature, but could “prolong one’s years” (yannian 延年) and lead to “transcendence of the world and never dying” (度世而不死). Wang Chong’s description of these Daoists coincides with those Sima Qian and Ban Gu referred to as fangshi 方士 “formula men/scholars,” shushi 術士, “method men/scholars,” or fangshushi 方術士. These Daoists who practiced and advocated attaining eternal life, transcendence and “ascension to the heavens” (sheng tian 升天) adopted Laozi (and Huangdi) as one of their own. For them, “attaining the Dao” (de dao 得道) meant “attaining the dao of the transcendents” (de xiandao 得仙道)[92] and one who mastered it was thus known as an “immortal, transcendent” (xian 仙, xianren 仙人, shenxian 神仙), a “Dao-person” (daoren 道人) or “Real Person” (zhenren 真人).[93] However, to my knowledge, they did not claim that Laozi practiced any physical exercises, abstained from grain or took any drugs. It is worth repeating that although the goals of transcendence and immortality gained currency prior to the Han dynasty (206 B.C.E. – 220 C.E.), they do not seem to have been associated with Laozi prior to the “common era.” Survival is shown to be a concern in the Laozi text, which may suggest an interest in longevity; however, longevity seems to have begun to be associated with the man Laozi in the first half of the Han, as seen in the Shiji biography of him.[94]

Before moving on to the Zhuangzi, it would be misleading to imply that the authors of the Laozi only practiced or recommended apophatic mediation. The text contains many symbols which presumably are meant to be contemplated or meditated upon and as such are kataphatic (κατάφασις) in nature, involving the use of images, symbols, words and such in one’s practice. The Laozi has many of these, including the infant (yinger 嬰兒, chizi 赤子), the mother (mu 母), the uncarved block (pu 樸), water (shui 水), the valley (gu 谷), and the female archetype (pin 牝, ci 雌). The Zhuangzi contains a number of these, but they are not as prominent, partly because of the style of writing the authors employ and partly, I suspect, because the authors were in a different lineage than those who wrote and compiled the Laozi.[95]

The Zhuangzi

The significantly larger book of Zhuangzi contains much more material on the topics under examination. Two (fictional) dialogues between Confucius 孔子 and his disciple Yan Hui 顏回 stand out and are among the most discussed episodes in the book. The first occurs in chapter 4, “People of the Present Age” (Renjian Shi 人間世), where Yan Hui informs Confucius of his aspiration to try to reform the young ruler of Wei 衛. Confucius assures him that he will likely get himself killed in the process, so Yan details a number of proposals, none of which satisfy Confucius, for Yan is approaching the task with the “mind of a teacher” (shixin 師心). Confucius finally recommends “fasting the mind” (xinzhai 心齋):

回曰：「敢問心齋？」

Hui said: “I dare to ask what fasting the mind is?”

仲尼曰：「若一志，無聽之以耳而聽之以心，無聽之以心而聽之以氣！聽止於耳，心止於符。氣也者，虛而待物者也。唯道集虛。虛者，心齋也。」

Confucius replied: “You (must) consolidate your aspirations. Listen not with your ears but with your mind. Listen not with your mind but with your vital breath! Listening stops at the ears, the mind stops with matching (tallies). As for the vital breath, (when the mind is) empty,[96] it reacts to things. Only the Dao settles in emptiness. (Thus, attaining) emptiness is fasting the mind.”



顏回曰：「回之未始得使，實自回也；得使之也，未始有回也；可謂虛乎？」

Yan Hui said: “When I, Hui, had not yet accessed my (true) source of agency, it solidly resided in Hui; (but) having accessed the (true) source of agency, Hui has not yet begun to exist. Can this be called (being) empty?

夫子曰：「盡矣。… 為人使易以偽，為天使難以偽。聞以有翼飛者矣，未聞以無翼飛者也；聞以有知知者矣，未聞以無知知者也。瞻彼闋者，虛室生白，吉祥止矣。夫且不止，是之謂坐馳。夫徇耳目內通而外於心知，鬼神將來舍，而況人乎！」

The Master said: “Completely! … Human agency is easy to contrive, Nature’s agency is difficult to contrive. You’ve heard of how to fly with wings, yet have not yet heard of how to fly without wings. You’ve heard of knowing with knowledge, yet have not yet heard of knowing without knowledge. One whose gaze is shut in, the empty room (i.e. one’s mind) will generate illumination, and the advantages will remain. Now, when they do not remain, this is called galloping while sitting still. Allow your ears and eyes to penetrate within and disregard your mind and knowledge. Ghosts and spirits will then come to associate with you, how much more other people!



This episode is dense with content. Zhai 齋, “fasting” was normally performed to purify one’s body prior to important religious rites. Here, zhai refers to an apophatic meditative practice that empties the mind of all obstructions and distractions, presumably so that afterwards the adept can respond spontaneously and without prejudice to whatever happens to occur. Lao Dan 老聃 (i.e., Laozi), in chapter 22 similarly instructs Confucius: “You (must) fast, cleanse your mind, wash clean your quintessential spirit, purge your knowledge” (汝齋戒，䟽𤅢而心，澡雪而精神，掊擊而知！). Yan Hui’s mind, on the other hand, was instead filled with ideas and potential ways (daos) of carrying out his self-appointed task.[97]

As we saw in the Laozi and see also in the Zhuangzi, the mind, functioning optimally, can also be likened to a mirror which reflects back no more and no less than what is before it, if it is kept clean.[98] A kind of sensory deprivation is encouraged, whereby one (temporarily) looks inward, ignores auditory stimuli, and the mind, which normally “matches tallies” (fu 符) – that is, matches the names (ming 名) one has for things with the actual realities (shi 實) it encounters – is “disregarded” or placed “outside” (wai 外) so that one’s qi 氣, “vital breath, vital energy” can interact and resonate with or react to (dai 待) things.[99] Chris Fraser explains,

This seems to be a matter of perceiving directly by means of the qi, rather than through the cognitive processing of the heart [mind]. “Perceiving” is probably not the right word, however; the idea is more likely that when the channels through the sense organs are cleared, qi will permeate and flow through the body, allowing events outside the body to directly prompt responses.[100]

Passages in the Liezi 列子 and Wenzi 文子 address this issue also. In Liezi 4, a disciple of Laozi, Geng Sangzi 亢倉子[101] claims that he could “see and hear without using his ears and eyes” (視聽不用耳目). He explains this by saying “My body mixes with my mind, my mind with my vital breath, my vital breath with my spirit and my spirit with non-existence” (我體合於心，心合於氣，氣合於神，神合於無). He admits that he does not know (buzhi 不知) how he does it, for it is simply “knowing that occurs-of-itself” (zizhi 自知). This “knowing that occurs-of-itself” corresponds to the Zhuangzi’s “knowing without knowledge” (wuzhi zhi 無知知), which refers to intuition or the use of the knowledge or know-how that resides in the unconscious mind. Wenzi 5 reads: “The highest learning uses the spirit to listen, mediocre learning uses the mind to listen, the lowest learning uses the ear to listen” (上學以神聽，中學以心聽，下學以耳聽), where spirit (shen 神) takes the place of the Zhuangzi’s vital breath (qi 氣), but undoubtedly refers to the same thing. The explanation continues, advocating “emptying the mind (to achieve) clarity and stillness” (xuxin qingjing 虛心清靜) and being “without thinking and planning” (wusi wulü 無思無慮).

Yan Hui discerned that when he emptied himself of his ego-self, his agency originated from “Heaven” or “Nature” (Tian 天), which can be considered transpersonal quietism. The emptiness within is not vacuous and impotent, but rather generates an illuminating intuition – the “knowing without knowledge.” Further, this potency and insight has unlimited attraction and influence, enabling one to even commune with ghosts and spirits. Alternately, “ghosts and spirits will then come to associate with you” (鬼神將來舍) could be read as “the ghostly and spiritual will come to reside inside,” which has some parallels in other texts such as Huainanzi 12, Wenzi 1 and Zhuangzi 22 (e.g., 神將來舍) and the Guanzi: Xinshu shang (神將入舍). This would suggest a mediumistic experience of being filled with a spiritual presence.[102] Angus Graham believed that after “fasting his heart,” “the self dissolves, energies strange to him and higher than his own (the ‘daemonic’ [鬼神]) enter from outside, the agent of his actions is no longer the man but Heaven working through him …”[103]

Skeptics might consider this approach (dao) impractical and even laughable (xiao 笑), and indeed, Laozi affirmed this was the usual response to his similar simple approach.[104] It might be the case that the stilling of the mind and the cultivation of this felicitous empty and open mind is what the Daoists referred to as their “wordless teaching” or “apophatic teaching” (buyan zhi jiao 不言之教), the “dao that was no dao” (budao zhi dao 不道之道).[105] As well, this silent teaching probably draws from the Daoists’ skepticism of the ability of language to foster genuine insight and affirms the necessity of learning intuitively, rather than by spoken or written doctrines. This calls to mind some assertions made regarding shamanism. For example, Michael Ripinsky-Naxon writes,

A true shaman-neophyte can refine his shamanizing skills by serving as an apprentice to a master shaman, but, unlike a medicine man or a sorcerer, he must acquire these abilities by intuition, as it were, which is enhanced in the course of his initiatory experiences – that is, through the teachings of the spirits – and not by learning a specific body of doctrines.[106]

The phrase “Only the Dao settles in emptiness” (唯道集虛) is an interesting one.[107] Variations of this conviction are found in a few other texts, such as Huainanzi 14’s “Emptiness is the dwelling place of the Dao” (虛者，道之舍也), the Mawangdui Dao Yuan text’s “‘One’ is (the Dao’s) nickname, emptiness its dwelling place” (一者其號也，虛其舍也), and Hanfeizi 8’s “Discard likes, discard dislikes and empty the mind in order to serve as the Dao’s dwelling place” (去喜去惡，虛心以為道舍).[108] The Neiye states that the Dao will only reside (chu 處) in a mind that is still (jing 靜), that in a mind that experiences anxiety, grief, joy and anger (you bei xi nu 憂悲喜怒), the Dao will not reside. For something that was supposed to be omnipresent, it seems puzzling to suggest that it could come and go, gather and disperse. The most likely explanation is that the various writers were writing about a family of psychosomatic or physio-spiritual states that they cultivated and used various metaphorical terms to identify them. We will find that the Neiye and other Xinshu texts sometimes use dao 道, jing 精, qi 氣, shen 神 and de 德 synonymously or near-synonymously.[109] It is likely the full apprehension of, union with, or embodiment of the Dao that is held to be realized only in an empty mind.[110]

The second fictional exchange between Confucius and Yan Hui occurs in chapter 6, “The Great Ancestral teacher” (Da Zongshi 大宗師), and runs as follows:

顏回[謂仲尼]曰：「回益矣。」

仲尼曰：「何謂也？」

曰：「回忘仁義矣。」

曰：「可矣，猶未也。」

它日，復見，曰：「回益矣。」

曰：「何謂也？」

曰：「回忘禮樂矣。」

曰：「可矣，猶未也。」

它日，復見，曰：「回益矣。」

曰：「何謂也？」

曰：「回坐忘矣。」

仲尼蹴然曰：「何謂坐忘？」

顏回曰：「墮枝體，黜聰明，離形去知，同於大通，此謂坐忘。」

仲尼曰：「同則無好也，化則無常也。而果其賢乎！丘也請從而後也。」

Yan Hui called to Confucius and said: “I’ve progressed.”

Confucius asked: “How so?”

“I’ve forgotten benevolence and duty.”

“Good! But that’s not enough.”

On another day he returned to see him and said: “I’ve progressed.”

“How so?”

“I’ve forgotten ritual and music.”

“Good. But that’s not enough.”

On another day he returned to see him and said: “I’ve progressed.”

“How so?”

“I sit in forgetfulness (zuowang 坐忘).”

Confucius became uneasy and asked: “What is sitting in forgetfulness?”

Yan Hui said: “(I let my) limbs and body fall away, attenuate my faculties of hearing and seeing, separate from my form and cast off my knowledge, and unite with the Great Interface. This is sitting in forgetfulness.”

Confucius said: “(If you are) united (with the Great Interface), then you are without preferences. If you transform, then you are without habitual ways of acting. You truly are an outstanding person. I, Qiu, beg to follow after you.”

Once again we have an apophatic practice described, this time using the metaphor of forgetting (wang 忘) instead of fasting (zhai 齋).[111] “Benevolence and duty” (renyi 仁義) and “ritual and music” (liyue 禮樂) were the primary moral virtues and domains of study that the Ru 儒 – literati and/or “Confucians” – focused on.[112] To have Yan Hui forgetting them and to have Confucius utterly impressed with him would surely have produced laughter (or annoyance) in the ancient listener/reader. Lao Dan also speaks to Confucius about “forgetting oneself” (wangji 忘己) in a later chapter.[113] Unlike the first anecdote, the passage of time that would naturally be required to master a discipline of “forgetting” or “fasting” is explicitly expressed. In addition to “forgetting,” Yan explains that his sensory perception is restricted and his self-awareness is eliminated. A transpersonal unitive experience is surely indicated by “unite with the Great Interface” (同於大通), which many scholars take to be the Dao.[114]

Chapter 2, “Discourse on the Equality of Things” (Qiwulun 齊物論) begins with the following:

南郭子綦隱几而坐，仰天而噓，嗒焉似喪其耦。顏成子游立侍乎前，曰：「何居乎？形固可使如槁木，而心固可使如死灰乎？今之隱几者，非昔之隱几者也。」

子綦曰：「偃，不亦善乎，而問之也！今者吾喪我，汝知之乎？

Ziqi of the southern suburb sat, leaning back at his table. Admiring the heavens, he sighed. Vacant, as though he had lost his mate. Yancheng Ziyou stood in attendance before him and said, “What is this? Can the form really become like a withered tree and the mind like lifeless ashes? The one who now leans back at his table is not the one that formerly did so.”

Ziqi said: “It is certainly good of you to stop and ask me about it. Just now I lost myself, do you understand that?”[115]

Ziqi here is found to be in a state of reverie or trance, with a vacant look on his face and his body and mind seemingly lifeless. “I lost myself” (wu sang wo 吾喪我), Ziqi informs Ziyou, meaning perhaps that his spirit had temporarily left his body.[116] In a similar way Liezi, after meeting this master of the southern suburb, once entered a trance where it is said that his “form and spirit were not mated with each other” (xingshen buxiangou 形神不相偶).[117] That Ziqi appeared dead thus makes sense, as the permanent loss of one’s spirit was believed to result in death.[118]

The 4th century C.E. editor and commentator Guo Xiang 郭象 suggested that he had “forgotten himself” (ziwang 自忘), in the same manner as described earlier,[119] and in chapter 24, Xu Wugui 徐無鬼 tells the ruler of Wei 魏 that the highest quality dogs are ones that have “lost themselves” (wang qi yi 亡其一) and the highest quality horses appear completely undisciplined and have also “lost themselves” (sang qi yi 喪其一). In the case of Ziqi (and perhaps Yan Hui discussed above), the complete loss or transcendence of one’s sense of self was a temporary phenomenon, whereas the dogs and horses maintained it perhaps forever. But the difference is most likely negligible, for both Yan Hui and Ziqi surely retained a sense of their transpersonal experiences, significantly informing their day-today lives.[120]

Chapter 21, “Tian Zifang” (田子方), contains one of many anecdotes of Confucius learning something from Laozi (Lao Dan). In this particular anecdote, Confucius arrived to see Laozi just as he had finished washing his hair; “(sitting) so still, it was as if he was not a (living) person” (zheran si feiren 慹然似非人). Bewildered, Confucius asked him: “Just now, master, your form was as depleted as a withered tree, as if you had left all things behind and separated yourself from your person in utter solitude (du 獨). Laozi explained that he was “wandering in the Beginning of Things” (you yu wuzhichu 遊於物之初). Confucius asked what this meant and Laozi told him that it was difficult to explain and difficult to understand, but proceeded to tell him of the commingling of the yin and yang energies of Heaven and Earth that produce all living things and the invisible “something” that serves as the guideline (ji 紀) – which he finally referred to as the Ancestor (zong 宗) – which is, in other words, the Dao.

Confucius asks what it means to “wander” (you 遊) there. Laozi appears to evade the question, instead answering with: “To achieve this is the ultimate of beauty, the ultimate of ecstasy. To achieve the ultimate of beauty and wander at the ultimate of ecstasy, call this the Ultimate Person” (夫得是，至美至樂也，得至美而遊乎至樂，謂之至人). Confucius asked the method by which this state could be achieved, whereby Laozi informed him that it involved not being distressed (ji 疾) or troubled (huan 患) by unexpected changes that may come one’s way and when “joy, anger, grief and happiness do not enter into one’s chest” (喜怒哀樂不入於胸次). In short, it is achieved by the attainment of equanimity, one of the most valued states espoused in the Zhuangzi, which is often expressed in terms of De, “virtue” or “character.” For example, chapter 15, “Ingrained Convictions” (Keyi 刻意), reveals that the De of a sage is characterized by the condition of serenity or equanimity (Danran 澹然) and kept intact when “anxieties cannot enter” (youhuan buneng ru 憂患不能入). Thus is it said: “Sorrow and joy are defects of De … likes and dislikes are deficiencies of De. Therefore, the heart-mind lacking anxieties and indulgences represents the ultimate in De” (悲樂者德之邪 … 好惡者德之失。故心不憂樂德之至也).[121] One who can carry on in this way is liberated (jie 解) from all suffering.

Confucius was highly impressed and inferred that this was only possible through such teachings (yan 言) of “cultivating the mind” (xiu xin 修心). However, Laozi denied this, saying:

夫水之於汋也，無為而才自然矣。至人之於德也，不修而物不能離焉，若天之自高，地之自厚，日月之自明，夫何修焉！

As for a stream’s relation towards its trickling sound: it does nothing (wuwei), as this attribute manifests of itself (ziran). As for the Ultimate Person’s attitude towards his/her character (De): it is not cultivated and yet living things are unable to stay away from him/her. Like how the heavens are naturally high, the Earth is naturally abundant, the sun and moon naturally bright. What is there to be cultivated?

As we will see later, this rejection of or caution towards active cultivation, refinement or “doing” is something we find throughout the early Daoist literature. My interpretation of what Edward Slingerland has called the “paradox of Wuwei”[122] is that these early thinkers/practitioners recognized that deliberate striving towards any goal creates resistance, and forcing things to happen is quite often either ineffective or produces mediocre results. On the other hand, reaching any goal, whether that be carving up oxen or governing a state, cannot be done by being completely idle and doing absolutely nothing. There was an efficacious way to go about things; which is indirect, involves the emptying of the mind, and allows our unconscious mind, or spirit (shen 神) to guide us.

The methods of quietism are shown throughout the Zhuangzi to play a role in the various “knack stories” in the text. The role they play is essential to the efficacy the various adepts display, what Graham has referred to as the “advantages of refusing self-consciousness.”[123] In the Laozi, Huainanzi and other “Daoist” or “Huang-Lao” texts these methods are advocated as helpful – if not necessary – to governing effectively. These examples in the Zhuangzi however show that it is not only governing that this approach can apply to.

In chapter 3, “The Essentials in Caring for Life” (Yangshengzhu 養生主), Cook Ding 丁 reported that it took more than three years to reach his level of expertise, which involved “using my spirit to go at it rather than using my eyes” (以神遇而不以目視). For Ding, “perception and understanding come to a stop” (guanzhi zhi 官知止), and his “spirit moves where it wants” (shen you xing 神欲行). He explains that he can then “rely on the natural patterns … and follow what is inherent” (依乎天理 … 因其固然).[124] The cook’s lord, Wenhui 文惠, senses that this quietist approach can be used to “care for/nourish life” (yangsheng 養生) in general. In the Xinshu shang, (to be discussed below) we read “Empty (the mind) of desires and spirit will enter its abode” (虛其欲，神將入舍), which is comparable to what Cook Ding did.[125] Guidance provided by spirit is perfect. So we find in the Huainanzi, when the spirit “is used to see, there is nothing not seen, when used to hear, there is nothing not heard, when used to act, there is nothing not completed successfully” (以視無不見，以聽無不聞也，以為無不成也).[126] Whether this “perfection” is meant to be taken literally or hyperbolically is another matter. No doubt there were those in this tradition who took it more literally than others, and no doubt, as we will continue to see, that paradox and hyperbole play a significant role in the “style of argumentation” used by those in what are considered Classical Daoist texts.

Chapter 19, “Understanding Life” (Dasheng 達生) contains most of the knack stories in the Zhuangzi. One involves Confucius encountering a hunchback adept at catching cicadas. We find out that it takes a long period of time to reach his skill level, which involves removing everything but cicada wings from his awareness, which Confucius interprets as keeping his “will undivided” (zhi bufen 志不分) and his spirit “concentrated” (ning 凝).[127] Another relates the technique of Woodcarver Qing 慶, who made bellstands so well they seemed to be the work of spirits. The ruler of Lu 魯 asked what his technique was, but Qing denied he had a technique, and explained that he simply “fasts in order to still his mind” (齋以靜心).[128] After seven days he had eliminated all concerns until “suddenly” (zheran 輒然): “I forget my four limbs and body” (忘吾有四枝形體也). Then his skill is concentrated (zhuan 專) and all “outside distractions fade away” (wai huaxiao 外滑消) and he can perceive the “Heavenly nature” (tianxing 天性) of the trees he is considering using. Both of these are obviously affiliated with the “mind-fasting” and “sitting in forgetfulness” parables discussed earlier.[129] The essence of all of these “knack stories” and of the two dialogues between Confucius and Yan Hui is that efficacy is achieved by maintaining equanimity, impartiality, empty/open-mindedness and unself-consciousness. For as Confucius tells Yan Hui in another conversation, “If external concerns weigh heavily upon our minds, internally we will be incompetent” (外重者內拙).[130] By being calm and collected, and by being impartial and open-minded, one can “let go” and allow a spontaneous and “spiritual” response actualize or emerge.

The Zhuangzi is littered with references to people with extraordinary abilities. Most of these abilities can be linked with what is considered shamanism in other cultures. In the Zhuangzi, the majority of examples seem to be used to encourage the reader or listener to not only open his or her mind, but to advance the value of freedom or liberation.[131] However, there can be no certainty regarding this. Some of the authors of the anecdotes which incorporate these individuals and/or their abilities were relying on second-hand accounts or popular lore. But some of them probably were personally familiar with such transpersonal states of consciousness and others appear to have built upon or transcended the shamanic spiritual journey and entered a more ineffable, mystical dimension.

Chapter 1 of the Zhuangzi, “Carefree Wandering” (Xiaoyao You 逍遙遊), contains a number of fables and parables that seem aimed at opening our minds beyond their current limitations. Little birds and insects have more restricted perspectives than that of the huge Peng 鵬, whose flights take it to the farthest extremes of the world. In the same way, “small understanding does not reach great understanding” (xiaozhi buji dazhi 小知不及大知). We read of Liezi 列子, who possessed the ability to fly:

列子御風而行，泠然善也，旬有五日而後反。 … 此雖免乎行，猶有所待者也。若夫乘天地之正，而御六氣之辯，以遊無窮者，彼且惡乎待哉！

Liezi harnessed the wind and travelled comfortably and adeptly, not returning for fifteen days … Here he could leave off moving (on foot) yet he still had to rely on something. But suppose he could ride upon that which keeps the heavens and earth in order and harness the fluctuations of the Six Elemental Energies and thereby wander into the inexhaustible, what then would he have to depend on?

Liezi’s quasi-shamanic, supernatural ability to ride the wind is deemed limited by the reliance on the wind; but the author suggests one can transcend this limitation by “concerning oneself” with the grander forces of the universe and thus wander in the inexhaustible (wuqiong 無窮), which suggests a mystical unitive experience.[132]

Also in chapter 1, Jian Wu 肩吾 relates a story he heard from Jie Yu 接輿,[133] to Lian Shu 連叔:

藐姑射之山，有神人居焉，肌膚若冰雪，淖約若處子。不食五穀，吸風飲露。乘雲氣，御飛龍，而遊乎四海之外。其神凝，使物不疵癘而年穀熟。

In the distant mountains of Gushe, there dwell spirit-men.[134] Their flesh and skin are as (pure as) snow and are as accommodating and as shy as virgins. They do not eat the five grains, (but) inhale the wind and drink dew. They ride cloudy vapours and harness flying dragons and wander out beyond the Four Seas. With their spirits concentrated they can cause living things to be free from flaw or disease and the season’s harvest to ripen.

Jian Wu refused to believe the story, but Lian Shu affirmed and added to it:

之人也，之德也，將旁礡萬物以為一。世蘄乎亂，孰弊弊焉以天下為事！之人也，物莫之傷，大浸稽天而不溺，大旱金石流土山焦而不熱。

These men, with their inner potency (De), will everywhere extend to all living things, considering them to be one whole. The people of this generation seem bent on disharmony, why would they distress and burden themselves, considering the (conduct of) the world their business? These men: nothing can harm them. Great floods could reach the heavens, yet they would not drown; great droughts could melt metal and stone and scorch the mountains, yet they would not burn …

These “Spiritual People” (Shenren 神人) are first described as physically pristine and who sustain themselves not on the usual coarse foodstuffs but on dew and wind. They can access the entire world via shamanic journeys on clouds and dragons and can positively affect the lives of all living things.[135] These supernatural abilities are affirmed throughout the Zhuangzi and Huainanzi. Zhuangzi 2 contains a description of the Ultimate Person (Zhiren 至人), who is “spiritual” or “spirit-like” (shen 神), is immune to fire and cold, never experiences fright or concern for life and death, benefit and harm, and can also ride the cloudy vapours, mount the sun and moon and wander beyond the Four Seas. Zhuangzi 6 describes the “Real Person” (Zhenren 真人) in much the same way, “entering water yet not getting wet, entering fire yet not burning” (入水不濡，入火不熱) and being immune to fear (li 慄).[136] Master Lu 盧生, the famous 3rd century B.C.E. fangshi 方士, enticed the First Emperor of the Qin dynasty with this ideal of the Zhenren, adding the necessity of practicing quietism (Tiandan 恬倓).[137]

As seen in Wang Chong’s Lunheng and numerous later Daoist texts, these idealized individuals and their abilities were felt to be fully realizable by many. For the authors of the Zhuangzi, the psychological states were certainly held to be attainable, whereas the physical feats may have less to do with actual physical abilities and more with a psychological condition of fearlessness, equanimity, and open-mindedness towards human potential.[138] In Zhuangzi 21, Liezi’s friend Bohun Wuren 伯昏無人 tells him Ultimate Persons can “ascend to peer into the azure heavens, descend into the Yellow Springs and exhaust themselves in examination of the Six Directions, (yet their) spirits and vital energies do not vacillate” (上闚青天，下潛黃泉，揮斥八極，神氣不變), or perhaps, “because their spirits and vital energies do not vacillate.[139] This description describes shamanic abilities/experiences, and in Zhuangzi 19, Liezi asks Guanyin 關尹[140] about these Ultimate Persons and their supernatural abilities. Guanyin tells him that they can achieve these feats not by knowledge, skill or daring but because of their “preservation of pure qi” (chunqiu zhi shou 純氣之守). The heavenly or natural aspect of themselves are thus preserved intact (tian shou quan 天守全) and their spirits are invulnerable (shen wuxi 神無郤). Unimpeded, they can “wander where all things begin and end” (遊乎萬物之所終始) and “merge with that which makes all things” (通乎物之所造), which suggests a mystical state of union with the Dao.[141]

Zhuangzi 6 is well-known for advancing the inevitability and acceptance of death as an inseparable part of the endlessly transforming universe. Yet remarkable transpersonal states of consciousness are affirmed, as well as shamanic spirit journeys. One parable tells of three friends, Zi Sanghu 子桑戶, Meng Zifan 孟子反, and Zi Qinzhang 子琴張, who alike could “ascend to the heavens, wander in the misty fog and meander in the limitless” (登天遊霧，撓挑無極)[142] and “live in mutual forgetting without end” (相忘以生，無所終窮). One day Zi Sanghu died and “returned to the Real” (fan qi zhen 反其真) and Confucius’ disciple Zigong 子貢 reported to him their unorthodox mourning behaviour. Confucius says that they are men who “wander outside the realm/rules” (you fangzhiwai 遊方之外) while he “wanders inside the realm” (you fangzhinei 遊方之內). They are men who “join together with the Maker of Things” (yu Zaowuzhe 與造物者), “wander with the unified vital energies of Heaven and Earth” (遊乎天地之一氣), “forget their organs and leave behind their ears and eyes” (忘其肝膽，遺其耳目) and who, “oblivious, drift uncommitted beyond the dust and grime, carefree in working on doing nothing in particular” (芒然彷徨乎塵垢之外，逍遙乎無為之業).[143] These men transcended the world, sometimes engaging – after apophatic meditation – in shamanic flight or mystical union.

The same experience is affirmed in chapter 7, “Responses to Emperors and Kings” (Ying Diwang 應帝王), where an asocial or even anti-social “nameless man” (Wumingren 無名人) also intended to “join together with the Maker of Things” (與造物者), to “ride upon the Mangmiao bird out beyond the Six Extremities, wander in the village of Nothing Whatsoever, and retire in the fields of Vast Wasteland” (乘夫莽眇之鳥，以出六極之外，而遊无何有之鄉，以處壙埌之野). He had no interest in offering methods of governing, but in response to nagging questions by “Skyroot” (Tiangen 天根), he proclaimed that the world will be governed simply by “allowing one’s mind to wander in indifference, joining one’s energies with obscurity, spontaneously complying with things and not indulging in personal bias” (遊心於淡，合氣於漠，順物自然而無容私焉). Again, this outrageous and impractical advice is not meant to offer up specific methods or policies, but is rather what they considered invaluable psychological preparation for governing.

The repeated assertions in the Zhuangzi (and Huainanzi) of ascension (deng 登, shang 上) and wandering (you 遊/游) in unearthly places presumably refer to transpersonal mystical experiences. In the Chuci, and some places in the Zhuangzi and Huainanzi, named mythical places are identified as the destinations traveled to in these spirit journeys. For example, Zhuangzi is said to have “tread to the Yellow Springs (below) and ascended to the vast sky (above)” (跐黃泉而登大皇),[144] and we read of a journey to “the village of God” (Dixiang 帝鄉) and the mountains of Kunlun 崑崙. However, when a practitioner experienced a unitive state of consciousness, where there no longer existed a “self” and an “other,” or a “self” and “the rest of reality,” description became difficult, especially in an ancient culture unaccustomed to such experiences. This may explain the puzzling “locales” we find adepts ascending or wandering to in the Zhuangzi, such as “the village of Nothing Whatsoever” (wuheyou zhi xiang 無何有之鄉), “the Gates of the Inexhaustible” (wuqiong zhi men 無窮之門), “the Wilderness of the Limitless” (wuji zhi ye 無極之野), “the Great Abyss” (dahe 大壑), and “the Great Emptiness” (daxu 大虛).

In Zhuangzi 6, Zikui of the southern earldom (Nanbo Zikui 南伯子葵) observed that Nu Yu 女偊 was long in years but still had the complexion of a child. Nu Yu replied that she[145] had heard or learned the way of the sage (shengren zhi dao 聖人之道).[146] Zikui asked of he could learn it from her, but she assured him that he was ill-suited. She then proceeded to describe the progress she had one with student, Buliang Yi 卜梁倚, who, although he was not versed in the way of the sage, had the potential talent (cai 才) to master it. She said:

吾猶守而告之，參日而後能外天下；已外天下矣，吾又守之，七日而後能外物；已外物矣，吾又守之，九日而後能外生；已外生矣，而後能朝徹；朝徹，而後能見獨；見獨，而後能無古今；無古今，而後能入於不死不生。殺生者不死，生生者不生。其為物，無不將也，無不迎也；無不毀也，無不成也。其名為攖寧。攖寧也者，攖而後成者也。

I carried on and instructed him for three days, after which he was able to disregard the world. Having disregarded the world, I carried on, and after seven days he was able to disregard things. Having disregarded things, I carried on, and after nine days he was able to disregard (his) life. Having disregarded (his) life, he was able to perceive with the clarity of the morning light.[147] With the clarity of the morning light, he was then able to perceive independently (of bias). Perceiving independently, he was then able to be free from the notion of time. Being free from the notion of time, he then was able to enter what is neither dead nor alive. That which extinguishes life does not die and that which engenders life is not alive. As for the kind of thing it is, there is nothing it does not send off, nothing it does not welcome back, nothing it does not destroy, nothing it does not bring to completion. The name (of this practice) is “Surrounded in Peace.” As for being “Surrounded in Peace,” (once we are) surrounded, then (we will be) complete.

Once again we find a description of an apophatic practice of emptying out one’s mind, of disregarding or putting outside (wai 外) everything in one’s normal consciousness. One can then experience and respond to the world free from all personal and cultural biases. That which engenders and extinguishes life, which sends out and receives back all things, is what other “Daoist” writers call the Dao. The outcome of this practice is identified as Ying Ning 攖寧, what I have glossed as “Surrounded in Peace.” Ying 攖 is a troublesome word, which most translators gloss as “turmoil” “disturbing.”[148] Angus Graham brings to bear the usage found in the Mohist Canons where it would appear to mean “to coincide.”[149] Yet ying – as ying 嬰/縈 – can mean “surround, entwine, encircle,” and this appears to make sense here.[150] James Legge’s “Tranquility amid all Disturbances” is also appropriate.[151] The episode ends with Zikui asking where she learned this practice, to which she responds with a lineage of nine humourously fictional people, which may be a satirical jab at the notion that lineage was important.

The practice of disregarding the external world and internal concerns and biases would seem to lead to a transpersonal experience of oneness, a unitive state where individual things cannot be distinguished. This is not a permanent state, (except perhaps in death), and the practitioner or mystic eventually returns the world and resumes acting and interacting with the world as we know it. A passage in chapter 2 also relates the different stages of this practice, yet does so in terms of a hypothetical progression of human consciousness – or rather, a description of the deterioration or degradation of human consciousness:

古之人，其知有所至矣。惡乎至？有以為未始有物者，至矣，盡矣，不可以加矣。其次以為有物矣，而未始有封也。其次以為有封焉，而未始有是非也。是非之彰也，道之所以虧也。道之所以虧，愛之所以成。果且有成與虧乎哉？果且無成與虧乎哉？

The people of ancient times, their understanding had reached the ultimate heights. What heights? They were those who apprehended that there was not yet (a world of) things. The Ultimate! That exhausts it: one cannot add anything to that! Next were those who apprehended (a world of) things, yet there were not yet any divisions. Next were those who apprehended divisions (between things), yet there were not yet the acceptable and unacceptable. When the acceptable and unacceptable became promoted, it is from this which diminishes (one’s embodiment of) the Dao. That which diminishes (one’s embodiment with) the Dao (is also) that from which attachments become complete. But is there really completion and diminishment? Or is there really no completion or diminishment?

The ultimate (zhi 至) in consciousness is that of the complete oneness of everything: everything is part of oneself, though there is no sense of self either. Then there is the awareness of things, but they are still interconnected and inseparable. Then comes the awareness of distinct things – such as individual people, trees, houses, lamps and swords – but none of these are deemed acceptable and unacceptable, right and wrong, or good or bad. When the mind begins this judging and labeling, one’s acquaintance with or embodiment of the Dao is diminished (kui 虧); one becomes estranged from the inherent oneness of all things.[152] When this happens, as it does for all people, one forms attachments to these preferences and they become complete, or hardened.[153] The author questions whether our embodiment of the Dao can truly be diminished and whether there truly is a hardening or completion of our preferences. He goes on to say that we are indeed estranged and inculcated as long as we maintain or act on these prejudices and preferences; however, if we stop, then we cease to be so: “(If) completion and diminishment exist, then, (for example), we have Zhaoshi playing his qin; (if) completion and diminishment do not exist, then we have Zhaoshi not playing his qin” (有成與虧，故昭氏之鼓琴也；無成與虧，故昭氏之不鼓琴也。).[154]

No practice is described on how to stop applying our hardened preferences and return to the oneness of the Dao. Being that the message is being delivered metaphorically through a hypothetical progression of human consciousness, we should not expect to be provided with a practice. However, we have already been familiarized, in general terms, with the practice: the apophatic “fasting of the mind” and the “sitting in forgetfulness.” Although the analogy with the development of the human mind from its beginnings in the womb to adulthood is not mentioned, it is remarkably apt, for the fetus is unself-aware and unaware of a world of things. After birth, it takes time before an infant can begin to distinguish one thing from another and self from other. Then come the distinguishing of individual separate things and eventually preferences of what is acceptable and unacceptable and of right and wrong develop, with the help of one’s parents and the rest of society. Elsewhere we have seen the infant being held up as something to emulate by Laozi (or in the Laozi), and, among other things, this suggests a similar focus towards returning to (fugui 復歸), or recovering the mind of a child, returning to the “uncarved block” (pu 樸) that we once were, and which also can describe the Dao itself.[155] Whether a meditative discipline of emptying the mind and experiencing the mystical unitive state or the reversion to an infant-like state, the return to the mundane, everyday world is not optional. Nevertheless, the experience has been repeatedly affirmed to have lasting effects on a person’s perspective and conduct in the world, and thus, as Graham and Roth have asserted, this is the valued outcome or end of such endorsed practices.[156]

Other contributors to the Zhuangzi contend that we can simultaneously embody the oneness of everything as well as entertain and act on our individual human preferences. In chapter 6 of the Zhuangzi, the Zhenren 真人, or Real Person, is one who “does not use the human to help out the ‘Heavenly,’ or natural” (不以人助天); however, the Zhenren is one in whom “the Heavenly and the human do not defeat each other” (天與人不相勝也). The Huainanzi expands on this:

知天而不知人，則無以與俗交；知人而不知天，則無以與道遊。

If one understands the “Heavenly” and not the human, then one will lack the means to interact with people; if one understands the human and not the “Heavenly,” then one will lack the means to wander with/in the Dao.[157]

Put another way, we are advised to adopt the perspective of the Dao (Daoguan 道觀), in which all things are one, but we cannot truly function in the world this way and must also entertain the human perspective, the perspective of individual things (wuguan 物觀).[158] Like a monkey-keeper mentioned in Zhuangzi 2, we best be able to perform a “double-walk” (liangxing 兩行) and accommodate the perspectives of others and our own human biases.

With regards to the concern for health and longevity, we have already encountered the mysterious Shenren 神人 of Gushe mountains who ingest nothing but air and dew and whose complexion was as pure as snow; additionally, they are said to be invulnerable to burning, drowning, (and probably other dangerous extremes). We have also read of Nu Yu 女偊, whose complexion was that of someone much younger. That inner perfection resulted in outer perfection was a common belief in the Warring States era and after.[159] Often this was due to the conviction that the accumulation of the purest energies within automatically entailed physical health and aesthetic quality. However, all readers of the Zhuangzi will notice that physical deformity does not entail imperfection; indeed, most of the ugly or deformed individuals in the text are portrayed as sages, or at least as possessing something enviable. For example, as Paul Goldin has drawn attention to, one of four friends in Zhuangzi 6 began to become deformed and ill, his “yin and yang energies” (陰陽之氣) being out of harmony; however, his mind was at ease and without concern.[160] Here psychological equanimity and the realization that life and death are in fact one entity (yitizhe 一體者) are being endorsed and are epitomized in these masters. True masters cannot be identified by their physical condition.[161]

In chapter 5 of the Zhuangzi, Zhuangzi tells Huizi 惠子 that true sages “do not let likes and dislikes internally harm their persons” (無以好惡內傷其身) and entails “always going by what occurs naturally and not (striving to) increase/benefit life” (常因自然而不益生). Laozi 42 makes the claim that trying to increase or augment (yi 益) something often quickens its decrease (sun 損).[162] Huizi doesn’t understand, however, and asks how one can even have a body/person if he or she doesn’t strive to benefit or increase one’s life. Preoccupation with life is not a concern for Zhuangzi, and he criticizes Huizi for expelling (wai 外) his spirit (shen 神) and overtaxing or exhausting (lao 勞) his vital essence (jing 精). For Zhuangzi, psychological health (inner peace, openness, etc.) are more important than physical survival; or rather, physical survival is dependent on psychological well-being. Serenely accepting what life brings and declining entanglements allows one to “finish one’s natural (allotment of) years” (zhong qi tiannian 終其天年).[163]

In the 11th chapter, “Remaining In and Accepting” (Zaiyou 在宥), we encounter the Yellow Emperor seeking advice from one master Guangcheng 廣成子 on how to nourish and support all living things in his lands. Master Guangcheng felt that the emperor was not up to the task and the emperor withdrew and proceeded to live in a secluded hut. After three months he returned to master Guangcheng and humbly asked him about how to govern one’s person (zhishen 治身) so as to live a long time (changjiu 長久). This question pleased the master, who proceeded to tell him to suspend the use of his senses, to “embrace the spirit by means of stillness, (so that) the form will automatically straighten itself” (抱神以靜，形將自正).[164] When he can maintain stillness and purity, when he can refrain from stressing his body and agitating his essence; then he can live a long time. With the suspension of the senses (and the mind), the careful tending to one’s internal state (nei 內) and closing (bi 閉) the gates to the external world (wai 外), one’s “spirit will protect the form” (shen jiang shou xing 神將守形), enabling long life. Not only that, but by preserving his person (shen 身), all things will “become sturdy of themselves” (zizhuang 自壯), which addresses the Yellow Emperor’s former inquiry. As for master Guangcheng, he declares, “I have preserved Oneness in order to dwell in inner peace, therefore I have maintained my person for 1200 years and my form has yet to undergo the usual decay” (我守其一以處其和，故我修身千二百歲矣，吾形未常衰), and after a few more bits of wisdom, offers these parting words:

故余將去女，入無窮之門，以遊無極之野。吾與日月參光，吾與天地為常。當我，緡乎！遠我，昏乎！人其盡死，而我獨存乎

Thus, I will leave you, entering through the Gates of the Inexhaustible to wander in the Fields of the Infinite. I will join with the brilliance of the sun and the moon; I will join with the regularities of the heavens and the earth. Those who approach me will be tied back, those who remain distant from me will be bewildered. All people advance towards death, yet I alone will persist!

Among other things, we find here again a practice of meditation that restricts sensory perception, aims at stillness and tranquility, and relies on the spirit to guide and protect us. Rather than efficacy in one’s activities, the ability to long endure (changjiu 長久) is the fruit of this practice, or, perhaps, is another benefit of this practice. Moreover, the transient shamanic or mystical experience is framed as a way to achieve immortality, as one becomes one with the universe and shares in its permanence. The “I alone will persist” (wo du cun 我獨存) should probably not be taken to indicate that there is an “I” or “ego” that continues to exist, since personal death is rendered meaningless once identification with the universe is realized. While master Guangcheng does give advice on how to achieve longevity, he also shows that death need not be feared, especially if one can realize union with the world.[165] Nevertheless, the fear of death and the consequent quest for ways to achieve immortality were fueled by such stories and taken more literally than perhaps they should have.[166]

Finally, in part 3 of this series, we saw that in the 15th chapter, “Ingrained Convictions” (Keyi 刻意), the author singled out five groups of people. These were:

1) The “men of mountains and valleys” (shangu zhi shi 山谷之士), who were high-minded social critics concerned with nothing but their own pride (kang 亢).

2) The “men who wish to bring peace to the world” (pingshi zhi shi 平世之士), who were itinerant, moralistic teachers concerned with nothing but repairing (the world) (xiu 修).[167]

3) The “men of the courts” (chaoting zhi shi 朝廷之士), who were career-minded political advisors or officials concerned with nothing but governing (zhi 治).

4) The “men of rivers and seas” (jianghai zhi shi 江海之士), who wished to flee from the world (bi shi 避世) and to be idle (xia 暇), whose only concern was non-interference (wuwei 無為).

5) The “men who guide and stretch” (daoyin zhi shi 道引之士), who “huff and puff, exhale and inhale, expel the old air and intake the new, (practice) bear strides and bird stretches, concerned with nothing but longevity” (吹呴呼吸，吐故納新，熊經鳥申，為壽而已矣). These men were focused on “caring for their forms” (yangxing 養形) and emulating Pengzu 彭祖, who supposedly lived for over a thousand years.

The author argued that repairing and governing the world, achieving longevity and the like could all be realized by quietist means, by one whose tranquility (danran 澹然) is unlimited (wuji 無極). Such a person embodies the “Way of Nature” (Tiandi zhi Dao 天地之道) and possesses the “characteristics of a sage” (shengren zhi de 聖人之德). The author lists and expounds many quietist self-cultivation terms and practices: the sage rests in “quietude” (tiandan 恬惔), “placid indifference” (jimo 寂漠), “emptiness” (xuwu 虛無), and “non-interference” (wuwei 無為). Resting in these, “anxiety is unable to enter (his/her mind) and noxious qi-energies are unable to gather (inside his/her body)” (憂患不能入，邪氣不能襲). Such a person “leaves behind knowledge and contrivance” (qu zhi yu gu 去知與故),[168] “does not ponder and plan, does not prepare or plot a course ahead of time” (不思慮，不豫謀), instead, “following the patterns of Nature” (xun Tian zhi li 循天之理). Rather than a way to care for the physical form (xing 形), as the aforementioned practitioners of daoyin 道引 (導引), “guiding and pulling” practiced, quietism was the “way of caring for the spirit” (yangshen zhi dao 養神之道), culminating in “becoming one with the spirit” (yushen weiyi 與神為一); or, in other words, preserving the most spiritual and essential (jing 精) vital energies-forces, not allowing them to become impaired or diminished (kui 虧). The author declares that one who can do such a thing, who can “embody purity and (one’s) genuine, untouched condition” (ti chunsu 體純素), can be called a Zhenren 真人, a “True Person” or “Real Person.”

Guanzi’s “Techniques of the Mind” (Xinshu 心術) Chapters

The Guanzi 管子 anthology contains four chapters, or texts, that focus on quietistic self-cultivation and its application to governing and understanding the world. These are: the “Inner Workings” (Neiye 內業), “Techniques of the Mind, Upper Section” (Xinshu shang 心術上), “Techniques of the Mind, Lower Section” (Xinshu xia 心術下), and the “Purified Mind” (Baixin 白心). The Neiye is generally considered the oldest of these, with (Western) scholars such as Angus Graham, Allyn Rickett and Harold Roth supporting a 4th century B.C.E. date. As mentioned in the last essay, “Cosmogony, Cosmology, and the Dao,” the Neiye is closer to 3rd and 2nd century B.C.E. texts such as the Huainanzi and the syncretic/Huang-Lao materials in the Zhuangzi in its vocabulary (e.g., jing 精, qi 氣, shen 神, xin 心, and its discussions on the emotions) and focus on self-cultivation.[169] The other three texts are generally believed to have been written in the 3rd or possibly 2nd century B.C.E. and appear to be later than the Neiye. Although there are many theories about who authored these texts, there is virtually no evidence and thus should be considered anonymous (just as the authors of the Laozi and the Zhuangzi).[170]

The Neiye would appear to be a collection of stanzas on quietist self-mastery or even the “will to power.” In addition to longevity (changjiu 長壽), maximizing one’s vitality (sheng 生), and making it so that no living things will cause one harm (hai 害), the practitioner of these quietist methods will possess wisdom (zhi 智) and be able to comprehend (de 得, zhi 知) and cause to transform (hua 化) all living things (wanwu 萬物). He (or she) will be able to foretell favourable and unfavourable consequences (xiongji 凶吉) without resorting to external means such as divination[171] as well as attain the ability to “go to the limits of the heavens and Earth” (qiong Tiandi 窮天地), “cover the Four Seas” (bei Sihai 被四海), “understand the world” (zhi tianxia 知天下), and “circulate completely through the Nine Regions” (panman Jiuzhou 蟠滿九州). With such perfection attained, all affairs will be successful (cheng 成), control of things (shi wu 使物) and submission and obeisance of the world (tianxia fu 天下服，tianxia ting 天下聽) will be realized, and the people will be as close as brothers (dixiong 弟兄).[172]

While all of this is facilitated by accumulating, storing and perhaps refining one’s vital essence (jing 精), breath/energy (qi 氣) or Dao within the heart, it all depends on attaining a tranquil and still heart-mind. For example:

凡道無所，

善心安處。

心靜氣理，

道乃可止。[173]

Overall, the Dao lacks a fixed place,

(Yet) in a ‘good heart-mind’ it will stay.

With the heart-mind still and one’s vital breath ordered,

The Dao may then remain.

—

脩心靜意，道乃可得。

Cultivate the heart-mind, still one’s intentions, then the Dao can be apprehended.

—

憂悲喜怒，道乃無處 … 靜則得之，躁則失之。

(In a heart-mind that entertains) grief, anxiety, joy and anger, the Dao will not stay.

…

If (your heart-mind is) still, you will apprehend it, if agitated, you will lose it.

—

心能執靜，

道將自定。

When one’s heart-mind is able to maintain stillness,

The Dao will automatically become stable.

These four sayings speak of Dao, not as an omnipresent, cosmic ancestor, but as something which, although never far from us, comes (lai 來) and goes (wang 往).[174] The text speaks similarly of spirit (shen 神) and of qi 氣 , jing精, and de 德, “inner power.” Michael LaFargue argues that this shows that the authors did not have a systematic psychological theory that we need to unpack by finding a distinct place for all of these terms.[175] LaFargue suggests that Dao here (and elsewhere) refers to a hypostatized “quality of mind.”[176] These passages resemble the “fasting of the mind” parable from the Zhuangzi examined earlier, where the Dao “settles in an empty (mind)” (Dao ji xu 道集虛), which would likely be considered still and tranquil.[177] The “Finishing One’s Allotted Years” (Jinshu 盡數) chapter of the Lüshi Chunqiu similarly speaks of getting rid of various excesses – including excessive emotions – as well as the essential energies (jingqi 精氣) settling or collecting (ji 集) inside birds, animals, precious objects and sages. Moreover, the Neiye also contains the recommendation to “Diligently clean out its abode and vital essence will automatically arrive” (敬除其舍, 精將自來) and the “Techniques of the Mind, Upper Section” (Xinshu shang) instructs: “Empty (the heart-mind) of desires and spirit will enter its abode; if the cleansing does not purify it, spirit will not stay” (虛其欲，神將入舍，掃除不絜，神不留處).[178] There is also some similarity with some chapters of the Laozi, such as 10 and 16, although the Laozi contains little or no discussion of eliminating/reducing emotions or attracting or manifesting shen, qi, or jing.[179] The Laozi is concerned, however, with eliminating or reducing desire (yu 欲), which we will examine in another essay.

Not only are emotions and desires singled out as obstacles to a tranquil mind, so are external stimuli and the senses: “do not allow things to disorder the senses and do not allow the senses to disorder the mind” (不以物亂官，不以官亂心).[180] The ruler could only achieve an orderly kingdom or state if his heart-mind was orderly, and this was considered impossible he if he could not calm and still his heart-mind. The term jing 靜 appears 12 times in this short text and is proclaimed to be the determining factor as to whether shen神 will enter (or manifest?) within and whether the mind can thereby be ordered (zhi 治), as opposed to disordered (luan 亂). To facilitate this inner stillness and calm, one should get rid of “grief, joy, happiness, anger, and the desire for profit” (憂樂喜怒欲利), for then one’s “heart-mind will revert to equanimity” (xin nai fan qi 心乃反齊) and harmony (he 和) will be attained.

While “grasping the One” (zhiyi 執一) and “preserving the One” (shouyi 守一) may refer to the mystical unitive experience, the meaning of yi 一 “one” is ambiguous.[181] The quietistic cultivation practice endorsed in the Neiye thus may not have mystical union as one of its aims. However, it is not implausible to interpret the passages that affirm that the Dao (or jing or shen) will stay in a tranquil and still mind as another way of expressing mystical union with it.[182] In this case, the “loss of the Dao” refers to the discontinuance of communion/union or awareness of it and, despite its omnipresence, it ceases to guide or inform one’s life.

The Huainanzi

In the Han Documents’ “Treatise on Literature” (Hanshu Yiwenzhi 漢書 • 藝文志), the Huainanzi is listed under the category of Zajia 雜家, the “Mixed, Heterogeneous or Syncretic Jia.” Zajia is described as a “combination of (the ideas/practices of) the Ru and Mo” (兼儒、墨) and a “blending of (the ideas/practices of) the Ming and Fa” (合名、法) traditions. Oddly, this leaves out the ideas/practices of Daojia 道家 and Yinyangjia 陰陽家, both of which are clearly present in the Huainanzi. This mystery is compounded by the fact that Sima Tan, (who had no Zajia category), claimed that it was Daojia that selected the best of the Ru, Mo, Ming and Fa.[183] While the Huainanzi itself does not explicitly claim that it is a Daojia or Daoist text, (which no text in fact does), Wang Chong, in his Lunheng, associated Liu An, the patron of scholars who wrote the Huainanzi, with Daojia, referred to his book as a “Daoist book” (Daoshu 道書),[184] his retinue as “scholars of Daoist methods” (daoshu zhi shi 道術之士), and reported, (with disbelief), that Liu An “ascended to the heavens” (sheng Tian 升天) as an immortal/transcendent (xian 仙), a phenomenon first attested in the Zhuangzi.[185]

Additionally, Harold Roth and Roger Ames/D.C. Lau have argued that, despite its syncretic nature, the text nevertheless draws on and develops the philosophies and practices found in the Laozi and Zhuangzi most substantially. The Introduction to the complete English translation of the Huainanzi by Roth, John S. Major, Sarah A. Queen and Andrew Seth Meyer says that Harold Roth believes that “despite the broad array of pre-Han sources from which it draws, in its cosmology and methods of self-cultivation, it remains squarely within a tradition of both philosophy and practice that borrows from earlier Daoist sources, including the four ‘Xinshu’ texts of the Guanzi, the Laozi, and the Zhuangzi. In his [Roth’s] view, these sources are treated by the Huainanzi authors as the ‘root’ or foundation of the entire work.”[186] Similarly, Ames and Lau claim that “In the Huainanzi, Daoism serves as the primary ore, being alloyed with the concerns and perspectives of competing schools to produce a more malleable and practical amalgam” and refer to the Huainanzi as espousing (one brand of?) “syncretic Daoism.”[187]

We have already taken notice of the cosmogony and cosmology of Dao that the Huainanzi adopts and develops from the Laozi and Zhuangzi (in Part 4.2 of this series of essays), and here I would like to provide some examples of mysticism and self-cultivation that appear in the text that also seem to derive from this tradition.

As found in the Zhuangzi and Xinshu texts, the spirit (shen 神) is regarded as the most beneficial and efficacious ruler of, or guide for, the body, as it regulates one’s vitality and thus should be cared for or nourished (yang 養). Chapter 7 of the Huainanzi, “Quintessential Spirit” (Jingshen 精神), adopts the Zhuangzi’s paragons of perfection, the Zhenren 真人, and asserts that their

性合于道也。故有而若無，實而若虛，處其一不知其二，治其內不識其外，明白太素，無為復樸，體本抱神，以游于天地之樊，芒然仿佯于塵垢之外，而消搖于無事之業。浩浩蕩蕩乎，機械知巧弗載於心。

“inborn nature is merged with the Way. Therefore, they possess it but appear to have nothing. They are full but appear to be empty. They are settled in this unity and do not know of any duality. They cultivate what is inside and pay no attention to what is outside. They illuminate and clarify Grand Simplicity; taking no action, they revert to the Unhewn. They embody the foundation and embrace the spirit in order to roam freely within the confines of Heaven and Earth. Untrammelled, they travel outside this dusty world and wander aimlessly in the