{128} CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Graven Intentions
Committing to their own intentions as if they were engraved in stone, exalting their own practices, isolating themselves from the world, distancing themselves from common customs, grandiloquently holding forth to criticize and disparage others, concerning themselves only with their own loftiness—this is what is to the liking of those distinguished men of the mountains and valleys who are always censuring the world, those who sit like withered trees, those who are drawn to the deep abysses.
Talking all the time about humankindness and responsible conduct, about loyalty and trustworthiness, about reverence and temperance, about deference and yielding, concerning themselves only with the cultivation of their characters—this is what is to the liking of those distinguished men who try to bring peaceful order to the world, those itinerant scholars who are always teaching and instructing others.
Speaking of great achievements to establish great renown, showing proper obeisance to both rulers and ministers, rectifying those of both higher and lower rank, concerning themselves only with government—this is what is to the liking of those distinguished men in the royal courts, who honor their lords and strengthen their states, trying to expand their achievements so that all will be absorbed into their polity.
Heading to marshes and lakes and dwelling in remote areas, going fishing in some quiet hideaway, concerning themselves only with non-doing1—this is what is to the liking of those distinguished men of the rivers and seas who avoid society and live a life of leisure.
Breathing in and out with puffs and roars, spitting out the old breath to take in the new, hanging like a bear and stretching like a bird, concerning themselves only with health and long life—this is what is to the liking of those distinguished men who manipulate their vital energies, who nourish their bodies in hopes of living as long as old Pengzu.
But to be lofty though without any carved-in-stone intentions, cultivated though without humankindness and responsible conduct, governing though without merit and fame, at leisure though without confinement to the rivers and {129} seas, long-lived though without manipulating the vital energies, forgetting everything yet possessing everything, placidly limitless and yet trailed by every form of beauty—this is the Course of heaven and earth, the intrinsic virtuosity of sages.
Thus it is said that tranquility and placidity, silence and solitude, open space and non-doing, these comprise the even level of heaven and earth, the very stuff of the Course and its intrinsic powers. And thus is it said that what sages do is simply leave off everything and take their rest there. Being at rest in it, they are balanced and at ease. Being balanced and at ease, they are tranquil and placid. Being balanced, at ease, tranquil, and placid, worries and sorrows cannot enter, unwholesome energies cannot infiltrate. Thus their intrinsic virtuosities remain whole and intact, their imponderable spirits remain unimpaired. And thus is it said that the lives of sages are just Heaven’s own activity, and their deaths are the transformation of all things. In their stillness they share the intrinsic powers of the Yin, and in their movement they share the undulations of the Yang.2 They do not take the initiative to anticipate either good fortune or bad; they do not respond until touched off, do not move until pressed upon. They spring into activity only when it has become impossible not to. They rid themselves of wisdom and precedent, and follow instead the inherent structures3 of the Heavenly. Thus they are free from the calamities of Heaven and free from the bondage of things, free of criticism from humans and free of blame from ghosts. Their lives are like a floating along, their deaths are like a coming to rest. They do not ponder or calculate, do not plan or scheme. Bright they are indeed—but without shine. Reliable they are indeed—but without predictability. In sleep they have no dreams, and in waking they have no worries. Their imponderable spirits are pure and unalloyed, their consciousnesses unblocked and unstopped. Open and empty like space, tranquil and placid, they merge with the intrinsic powers of Heaven.
Thus it is said that sorrow and happiness are swerves from the intrinsic virtuosities, that joy and anger are oversteppings of the Course, that liking and disliking are misplacements of the inherent virtuosities. It is when the heart and mind are without sorrow or happiness that their inherent powers reach perfection; it is when they are unified and unchanging that their stillness reaches perfection; it is when they oppose nothing that their openness reaches perfection, it is when they associate themselves with nothing that their placidity reaches perfection, it is when they are in conflict with nothing that their purity reaches perfection.
Thus it is said, when a body labors without rest it is soon worn out, and when the pure kernel of our vitality4 is put to use without cease it is severely toiled—and when toiled so, it soon gets used up. The nature of water is to be clear as long as it is free from admixture, and to be level as long as it is undisturbed. But on the other hand if it is pent up and not allowed to flow, it also cannot remain clear. This is an apt image of the inherent powers of the Heavenly. Thus it is said that {130} to be pure and unmitigated with nothing extraneous added in, to be unaltered in one’s stillness and unity, to be placid in one’s non-doing, to be in motion but only through the activities of the Heavenly: this is the Course that nourishes the imponderable spirit in us.
Now someone who possesses a sword made in Gan or Yue will carefully store it away in a box, not daring to make use of it lightly because of its unsurpassed preciousness. The pure kernel of imponderable spirit5 in us flows simultaneously in all directions, never reaching any limit; above it interfaces Heaven, and below it coils into the Earth, transforming and nourishing the ten thousand things. It is impossible to represent it with any image, so it is given the name “Sameness with the Lord on High.” But the Course of plainness and purity is to hold fast to imponderable spirit alone. Holding it without losing it, you become one with the spirit, and when the quintessence of this oneness refines to the point where it is thoroughly unobstructed, you join into the interconnections of the Heavenly. There is a folk saying about this: “The multitude care about profit, the incorruptible men of distinction value fame, the worthy men esteem their aspirations—but the sages value only the pure kernel of vitality.” “Plainness” means mixing nothing extraneous in, and “purity” means keeping the imponderable, the spirit, undiminished. It is those who can embody such purity and plainness that are called the Genuine-Human.