Chapter 10 of the Laozi (AKA Daode Jing) gives some of the most precise guidance on the process of inner cultivation. Below you will find it translated, and presented with a commentary. Footnotes on translation and technical details have been omitted in favour of readability.
載營魄抱一,能無離乎?
Carrying the hun and po and embracing unity, can you prevent anything from separating?
The hun is the aspect of mind relating to the ethereal, transcendent, and immaterial. The po, on the other hand, is the aspect of mind relating to the corporeal, material, and sensory. Are you able to harmonise these two conflicting aspects of yourself, and thereby achieve a state of internal unity? The term ‘embracing unity’ went on to become one of the most common terms for Daoist stillness meditation.
專氣致柔,能嬰兒乎?
Concentrating the qi to the point of being supple and yielding, can you be like an infant?
Here, qi refers to the vital energy that runs through and animates the body. There are two approaches to the cultivation of qi. First, the ‘bottom-up’ approach works with qi through physical practices such as qigong, neigong, and neidan. Second, the ‘top-down’ approach works with qi through the practice of stillness meditation. Many alchemical classics suggest that if the mind is regulated correctly, qi will rectify of its own accord. On a pragmatic level, the most effective way to cultivate qi is through the joint cultivation of mind and body, the ‘dual-cultivation’ of which is one of the outstanding characteristics of Daoist practice.
The Laozi frequently advises the development of qualities such as being supple and yielding. By developing these, a practitioner moves beyond artifice and develops open receptivity, a deep stillness within the midst of motion. This way of moving through the world lends itself to clarity of mind and conservation of vital energy, two things that are essential for spiritual cultivation. Aside from being physically supple, an infant is also mentally pliant. They exist within states of both non-doing (wuwei) and non-knowing (wuzhi), yet within an infant is contained vast potential. Likewise, a Daoist cultivator moves from the narrow limitations of manifestation, and instead seeks to dwell in the great ease and openness of potential. Such is the way of the Dao which, operating through non-action, leaves nothing un-done. The last significant connotation of infancy is close relationship with a mother. As the Laozi explicitly states elsewhere, the Dao may be thought of as the mother from which the cultivator seeks constant nourishment.
滌除玄覽,能無疵乎?
Cleansing and purifying mysterious vision, can you be without blemish?
The Chinese character for ‘vision’ is connected to the character for ‘mirror’. As such, this line brings to mind later Buddhist and Daoist metaphors about spiritual practice being like the removal of imperfections from a mirror’s face. Through this process of cleansing, a practitioner becomes able to see the reflection of their own true nature. As can be seen from this line, the Laozi sees ‘cleansing and purification’ as being key to spiritual practice, to realising the Dao. Compare this with the previous line, in which we are told to ‘concentrate’ our qi. From these two lines, we see the Laozi suggesting that spiritual cultivation should take place by both developing some aspects of ourselves, whilst diminishing others. This idea permeates through the entire later Daoist tradition, with the general idea being that qi should be developed, whilst all forms of mental artifice released. As the Laozi advises elsewhere — empty the heart-mind and fill the belly.
愛民治國,能無知乎?
Loving the people and governing the country, can you remain in a state of non-knowing?
Throughout history, the Laozi has been interpreted as either a manual for governance, or as a guide to inner cultivation. According to the former interpretation, this line can be read as suggesting that once the previous steps have been completed, you are ready to assume political office. For those who have not completed the steps of inner cultivation set out in the preceding lines of this chapter, there is no point considering statecraft. Those who have completed these steps are assumed to have developed the clarity of perception and stability of qi necessary to carry the burden of political office. How does the Laozi advise someone in a position of political power to behave? With non-knowing. With humility, receptivity, and restraint.
If we interpret this line as guiding inner cultivation, the ‘country’ can be interpreted as our psychosomatic make up, and the ‘people’ as referring to the plethora of mental and physical processes taking place within it. The Laozi advises us to love all these processes, whilst governing our mind and body effectively. To be able to express self-love, whilst also being an efficient self-administrator certainly requires great skill. In life we tend to be either too tight or too loose, too weak or too strong. Inner cultivation requires developing a mind capable of effectively navigating polarity. Yet, this act of great skill must be done whilst remaining in a state of non-knowing. How can something that requires great skill be accomplished without the exercise of conscious thought or artifice? The answer lies in the idea of gong, or ‘mastery’. Within traditional Chinese arts, methods are designed to develop specific mental or physical qualities within a practitioner. The practitioner practises the method for prolonged periods of time, until the quality is so deeply engrained within their mind or body, that it simply becomes a part of them. Once this has occurred, we can say the practitioner has achieved gong, or ‘mastery’, of that quality. Having achieved mastery, the required skill is able to manifest whilst one remains in a state of non-knowing.
天門開闔,能為雌乎?
In opening and closing the gates of heaven, can you adhere to the feminine?
‘Heaven’ is a common metaphor for the mind within traditional Chinese texts. The ‘gates of heaven’ refer the sense faculties because all information from the external world passes through them. ‘Adherence to the feminine’ does not mean imitation of culturally conditioned female behaviour. Instead, it refers to the cosmological principle of yin. Yin is associated with practically every quality that the Laozi praises, such as receptivity, yieldingness, and stillness. Adhering to a state of yin whilst receiving sensory information is difficult because we interpret through the lens of preference, developing attachment or aversion to the information we receive. As such, instead of residing in a state of open receptivity and internal stillness, we find ourselves constantly reacting and creating mental disturbance. The still water of the mind is whipped up into agitation by our desire to avoid that which we dislike, and move closer to that which we desire.
Looking at the etymology of the character for ‘feminine’ in this line, it includes the radical for a small bird. It, therefore, brings to mind images of a small bird living in the shadows of a forest, garden, or ravine. Passing through, we are perhaps not even aware of its presence.
明白四達,能無知乎?
As your understanding reaches in the four directions, can you remain in a state of non-knowing?
Just like the Chinese say ‘ten thousand’ to mean ‘countless’, so the ‘four directions’ implies ‘all directions’. This line is closely connected to the previous — are you able to engage externally whilst residing in a yin state of open receptivity and stillness? The primarily difference here is that it advises the practitioner specifically to develop understanding whilst remaining in such a state. On the face of it, this seems paradoxical. How can we develop understanding whilst residing in a state of non-knowing? To find an answer to this, we can look more closely at the Chinese characters. Specifically, this line sets up a distinction between zhi, the noun/verb for knowledge/to know, and the compound mingbai. Although both ming and bai have specific meanings, they also both mean ‘brightness’. Therefore, the kind of understanding indicated by mingbai is one of light dispelling darkness, of clarity of vision and unimpeded perception. It is different from the intellectual, conceptual, and verbal knowledge implied by the character zhi. The Laozi is, therefore, recommending the development of understanding developed through direct perception, rather the accumulation of intellectual knowledge.
Beginning in the Han Dynasty (202 BCE—220 CE), there is clear evidence that Daoists understood the world as being composed of a ‘microcosm and macrocosm’. The microcosm of one’s mind and body was said to function according to the same principles as the macrocosm of the external world. Although the Laozi predates clear evidence that this idea was in circulation (the text dates roughly to the 4th century BCE), it is possible that it formed part of the worldview of those who wrote it. If this is the case, then another possible interpretation of this line is that the ‘understanding reaching in the four directions’ refers to the development of internal physical, energetic, and mental perception. If this is the case, then the Laozi is advising us to maintain a yin state of open receptivity, non-action and non-interference whilst engaging in methods of inner cultivation. Regardless of the extent to which this meaning was intended by the authors of the Laozi, it is certainly the case that this instruction is prominent in authentic contemporary Daoist teaching. With the exception of some more advanced energetic practices, our internal environment is most effectively cultivated with open awareness and a corresponding lack of forceful intention. As is the case in one’s external interaction, the simple nourishing effect of open awareness allows the body and mind to transform according to a natural intelligence that is usually greater than anything the human mind is capable of contriving.
生之、畜之,生而不有,為而不恃,長而不宰,是謂玄德。
Give birth to and nourish it. Nourish it without possessing it. Act without relying on it, and allow it to grow without controlling it. This is called mysterious inner power.
There are many chapters within the Laozi where the last line of the chapter is written in a completely different style to the preceding lines. This is the case here, and should be interpreted as a commentary to the preceding lines. this line may have been added some time after the preceding lines were written, perhaps by another author.
This line of commentary gives instruction on how to achieve results in the practices that the chapter recommends earlier in the chapter. The ‘it’ in this line refers to one’s practice. If you go about your practice in this way, then the result will be ‘mysterious inner power’. ‘Mysterious’ (xuan) is probably the most common description for the Dao, and the entire Daoist tradition is sometimes referred to as xuanfeng, or ‘mysterious winds’. ‘Inner power’ (de) is the quality that arises within a practitioner as they increasingly align with the Dao. So, this chapter concludes by stating that, if you follow the prescriptions in this chapter, then you will come to the Dao. Characteristically, chapter 10 the Laozi does not actually prescribe anything; it simply asks whether you are capable of such things.