Zhuangzi · Benefiting Others Through Stillness

I. Zhuangzi: People Do Not Look for Their Reflection in Running Water, but in Still Water

At the beginning of “The Sign of Virtue Complete” in the *Zhuangzi*, we meet Wang Tai, a man from the state of Lu. “Standing, he does not teach; sitting, he does not discourse. His is a teaching without words.” He explains no principles and simply remains quiet, yet numerous disciples follow him, and Confucius also speaks highly of him. The heart of this passage is: “People do not look for their reflection in running water, but in still water. Only what is still can bring stillness to all who seek it.”

1. His moral and spiritual attainment

Original text:

Life and death are great matters, yet they cannot change him. Even if heaven and earth overturned and collapsed, he would not be lost along with them. He understands that which depends on nothing and does not shift with things; he lets things undergo their transformations while holding to their source. Viewed in terms of their differences, the liver and gallbladder are as far apart as the states of Chu and Yue; viewed in terms of their sameness, the myriad things are all one. Such a person no longer concerns himself with what pleases the ears and eyes, but lets his mind wander in the harmony of virtue. He sees things in their oneness and does not see what has been lost; he regards the loss of his foot as though he had merely lost a clod of earth.

Translation:

Death and life are major events among the changes of a human life, yet neither death nor life can make him change along with them. Even if heaven overturned and earth collapsed, he would not thereby lose himself or be destroyed. He understands the principle of depending on nothing and does not change with external things, allowing things to transform while holding firmly to his essential purpose.

Viewed from the standpoint of their countless differences, even the liver and gallbladder, which lie next to each other within the same body, are as far apart as the states of Chu and Yue. Viewed from the standpoint of what they have in common, all things are one. A person like this no longer concerns himself with which sounds and colors best suit his ears and eyes, but lets his mind wander freely in a realm of undifferentiated unity, forgetting bodily form and emotional attachments. In external things, he sees their oneness rather than the differences caused by loss. Thus, he regards the loss of a foot as though he had merely lost a clod of earth.

1. Why do disciples follow him?

Original text:

People do not look for their reflection in running water, but in still water. Only what is still can bring stillness to all who seek it. Of those that receive their mandate from the earth, only the pine and cypress remain green through winter and summer. Of those that receive their mandate from Heaven, only Shun was upright; fortunately, he could set his own life right and thereby set the lives of others right. The sign of preserving one’s original nature is the reality of fearlessness. A warrior, alone, can boldly charge into the armies. Even someone who seeks fame and can demand this of himself can do so much. How much more, then, can one who makes heaven and earth his offices and the myriad things his storehouse, who merely lodges in his body and treats his ears and eyes as outward appearances, who unifies what his understanding knows, and whose mind has never withered! He will choose his day to ascend to the highest realm, and people will follow him. How could he be willing to concern himself with external things?

Translation:

To see their own reflection, people rely on a still surface of water rather than flowing water. Stillness can bring stillness to others.

All trees receive their mandate from the earth, yet only the pine and cypress remain lush and green through winter and summer. Everyone receives their mandate from Heaven, yet only the sage ruler Shun was most upright in moral character. Fortunately, they were able to set their own conduct right and thereby set the conduct of others right. The sign of preserving one’s original nature is a fearless courage within. A warrior, alone, dares to stand against thousands of troops. Even a person intent on pursuing fame and gain, who makes demands of himself, can achieve this much. How much more, then, can someone who presides over heaven and earth and encompasses all things, who regards his body as merely a lodging and his ears and eyes as outward appearances, who grasps the principles accessible to the wisdom nature has given him, and whose spiritual world has never been exhausted! He will surely choose an auspicious day to ascend to the highest realm, and people will follow closely behind him. How could he consider gathering numerous disciples a matter of any concern?

II. Spiritual Practitioners Going Astray

Many people who have made some progress in psychology, Chan Buddhism and Zhuangzi, or spiritual practice cannot resist setting themselves up as teachers. Their longing to “apply what they know and be useful,” and their craving for “admiration and recognition,” are a new stage of going astray. This is especially true of those who originally encountered setbacks in worldly life and had no choice but to learn to “withdraw from the world”: once they achieve a little, they again hope to “return to the world as an emperor’s teacher.” Too many people dream of being Lenin, a great mentor, or Nan Huaijin. See the earlier essay “Spiritual Practice Is a False Concept.”

There are also their attitudes toward themselves: see the earlier essays “The Syndrome of Attachment to Spiritual Attainment” and “The Spiritual Practitioner’s Ego.”

This demonic tendency and restlessness cannot benefit others. They only provoke clashes between egos.

III. Physicians Do Not Knock on Doors; the Way Is Not Lightly Transmitted

The *Analects*: “Do not enlighten those who have not struggled to understand; do not give words to those who have not struggled to express themselves.” The *Book of Changes*: “It is not I who seek the inexperienced youth.”

Zhuangzi: “Those who know do not speak; those who speak do not know. Thus the sage practices teaching without words.”

Wang Anshi: “I have read ten thousand volumes and learned all the principles under heaven. The wise already know for themselves; among the foolish, who would believe you? How remarkable, the unoccupied follower of the Way, who leaps beyond these three statements. Alone, he awakens to his own root; his awakening does not arise elsewhere.”

The *Guanzi*: “Do not associate with those who are unfit; do not force those who are incapable; do not instruct those who do not understand. Associating with the unfit, forcing the incapable, and instructing those who do not understand is called laboring without accomplishment”—do not become close to those who cannot be trusted, do not force those who cannot remain constant in virtue, and do not transmit the Way to those who are deluded and ignorant. Otherwise, your efforts will inevitably accomplish nothing.

IV. Benefiting Others Through Stillness

Spiritual practice can benefit others only through stillness. In turbulent times, a still person is a lighthouse in a raging sea, a lake in the Gobi Desert. Such a person allows quietness to soothe, nourish, and support people’s hearts.

Military strategy speaks of being “unmoving as a mountain.” A large part of a commander’s role is to reassure others through stillness. As Su Zhe put it, “The way of a general begins with governing the mind. Even if Mount Tai collapses before him, his expression does not change.” During the War of Liberation, people said, “If they hold their ground under an artillery barrage, they must be the Tenth Column.”

Why are we so deeply moved when we see people like teacher Zhang Guimei, who devote themselves to work deep in the mountains without regard for fame or gain? Why do people always admire eminent monks, Daoist practitioners, and recluses? Because, in a world where the pursuit of status and advantage devours the small and middling bourgeoisie, we see people who benefit others through stillness. When someone with a powerful ego, who is either immensely pleased or endlessly distressed over their own power, wealth, and intellect, comes face to face with teacher Zhang Guimei, all their ego and obsessions suddenly dissolve into emptiness. This is how still water lets people see themselves. We look up to the lofty mountain: benefiting others through stillness.

Empty talk is useless; benefit others through stillness. With family and friends, simply benefit them through love.

Levels of charisma: at the surface, outward charisma (power, money, knowledge, status, looks, fashion, sex appeal, and so on); at a more advanced level, charisma of character (once the inner core is strong); for the awakened, charisma of the soul (innate wholeness).

V. Cultivating Oneself Through Stillness

Through freedom from worldly desires, clarify your aspirations; through tranquility, reach far.

“Gengsang Chu” in the *Zhuangzi*: “Uprightness brings stillness; stillness brings clarity; clarity brings emptiness; emptiness brings nonaction, through which nothing is left undone.”

Sitting in forgetfulness, fasting the mind, an empty chamber giving rise to light. Only when the mind is emptied through fasting can it hold things.

Acting through the heart, from the *Guanzi*:

“Friendship that displays its intimacy comes close to lacking closeness; affection that displays its devotion comes close to forming no bond; generosity that displays its virtue comes close to receiving no return. The one to whom all quarters turn is the one who acts through the heart.”—Friendship that makes an outward show of intimacy is not truly close; a relationship that makes an outward show of affection is not truly a bond; favors that make an outward show of generosity do not truly call forth gratitude. If you want to win the hearts of all under heaven, the key is still to practice the Way in silence.

Through stillness, discern people; through stillness, draw people to you; through stillness, benefit people.

VI. In a Noisy World, Tranquility Speaks Loudest; Let Stillness Resonate and Bear Fruit

In a noisy world, human sounds rise in a clamor, yet those sounds do not travel far. Tranquility travels far and touches the heart. The music of Heaven is silent.

Everywhere are dreams, illusions, bubbles, and shadows; only where there are no bubbles is there space.

Everywhere the burning house blazes; coolness is paradise.

Everywhere the raging sea roars; a tranquil lighthouse soothes people’s hearts.

VII. Benefiting Others Through Stillness in Marxism

Many people understand Marxism as something spectacular and tumultuous: youthful passion, struggle and criticism, an extreme commitment to purposeful action and striving, an engagement with the world that burns like fire.

In fact, Marxism is still and composed, moving with the course of things through nonaction. Marxism is not dancing at a nightclub; it is the most arduous, protracted, and profound revolution.

Even if we take the dazzling Mao as an example, many people like his active side, his movement like a fierce tiger. But they overlook the side of him that followed the course of things through nonaction and held his ground in stillness. Joining the peasant movement and going into the mountains meant following the course of things. During the ebb, when most people wavered and questioned “How long can the red flag keep flying?”, he could quietly hold fast to “a single spark.” Many people see only how it “can start a prairie fire” at the height of the movement, forgetting that what is most precious is perseverance during the ebb.

Take Lenin: through the low points and exile of his early and middle years, he simply held quietly to the Way. Sun Yat-sen was the same.

Take Marx and Engels: this was even more true of them. In their lifetimes, they never saw a true revolutionary high tide, nor did they witness world war (the First World War came more than a decade after Engels’s death). They simply held quietly to the Way.

Take Mandel: during the postwar economic booms of the fourth and fifth Kondratiev waves, in the baby-boom era, he remained committed to Marxism, simply holding quietly to the Way.

p.s.

A. Wordlessness

Quoted from Chen Guying’s *New Essays on Laozi and Zhuangzi: The Distinctive Features of Zhuangzi’s System of Knowing*

Language and writing also often conceal the calculating intentions of those who use them. Thus, when Zhuangzi asks people to “speak without speaking,” he means that people should speak without subjective prejudice. “Spillover words emerge day after day, harmonized through the natural balance” (“Imputed Words”) is an expression of “speaking without speaking.” Zhuangzi observes how heaven, earth, and the myriad things operate in silence: “Heaven and earth possess great beauty but do not speak; the four seasons possess clear patterns but do not deliberate; the myriad things possess their own principles of formation but do not explain them” (“Knowledge Wandered North”). The beauty of heaven and earth manifests itself in wordlessness, and Zhuangzi develops the beauty of wordlessness through his silent observation of nature. His advocacy of “speaking without speaking” is directed primarily against speech driven by calculating intentions. What he calls “forgetting words,” by contrast, emphasizes intuitive apprehension. In this respect, Chan Buddhism’s refusal to establish itself upon words and writing was considerably influenced by him.

Zhuangzi’s knowing places little emphasis on distinctions among affairs, principles, names, and things—that is, on external, objective knowledge—and instead emphasizes the subject’s inner experience. He believes that knowing must be brought down to the level of human life and used to settle one’s inner life; thus, it is a subjective form of knowing. Some people have read countless books, yet not one has entered their lives. They are merely bookshelves, and their abundant knowledge cannot help them resolve the major questions of life. In Zhuangzi’s view, knowledge must be incorporated into the realm of the subject’s lived existence. He says: “To know what Heaven does and to know what human beings do is the highest attainment. To know what Heaven does is to live as Heaven gives one life. To know what human beings do is to use what one’s understanding knows to nourish what one’s understanding does not know, completing one’s natural span without dying prematurely along the way. This is the fullness of knowing” (“The Great Ancestral Teacher”).