Translation
One adept in being a person is not militant.
One adept in battle is not enraged.
One adept in victory over enemies does not participate.
One adept in utilizing people acts from the lower position.
This is called the moral character of not contending.
This is called employing the ability of the people.
This is called matching of Nature’s ancient utmost.
1) good (satisfactory; be adept in) do (act; act as; serve as; be; mean; support) bachelor (scholar; person) (者) no (not) military (valiant, fierce). 善为士者不武。(shàn wéi shì zhĕ bù wŭ.)
2) good (satisfactory; be adept in) war (warfare; battle; fight) (者) no (not) anger (rage, fury). 善战者不怒。(shàn zhàn zhĕ bù nù.)
3) good (satisfactory; be adept in) victory (success; surpass; be superior to) enemy (oppose, match, equal) (者) no (not) take part in (give, get along with, help> and). 善胜敌者不与。(shàn shèng dí zhĕ bù yú.)
4) good (satisfactory; be adept in) use (apply <frml> hence) human (man; people) (者) do (act; act as; serve as; be; mean; support) of below (under; lower; inferior). 善用人者为之下。(shàn yòng rén zhĕ wéi zhī xià.)
5) <grm> is (yes <frml> this; that) say (call; name; meaning; sense) no (not) contend (vie; strive; argue) of virtue (moral character; heart). 是谓不争之德。(shì wèi bù zhēng zhī dé.)
6) <grm> is (yes <frml> this; that) say (call; name; meaning; sense) use (apply <frml> hence) human (man; people) of power (strength, ability). 是谓用人之力。(shì wèi yòng rén zhī lì.)
7) <grm> is (yes <frml> this; that) say (call; name; meaning; sense) join in marriage (mate (animals), mix, match, deserve) sky (heaven; day; season; nature; God) ancient (age-old) of extreme (pole, utmost). 是谓配天古之极。(shì wèi pèi tiān gŭ zhī jí.)
Third Pass: Chapter of the Month
Corrections:
Line 1: I’ve always felt scholar was not the best word, but it was better than bachelor was. Today, person felt to be a better choice for the shì (士). At a minimum, person defines us all, which isn’t true of the other ‘synonyms’. Here’s the word for word for that line:
good (satisfactory; be adept in) do (act; act as; serve as; be; mean; support) bachelor (scholar; person) (者) no (not) military (valiant, fierce). 善为士者不武。(shàn wéi shì zhĕ bù wŭ.)
Line 4: Giant oops here! Somewhere along the line, my poetic interpretation of this line was dropped. Although, the word for word section below remained intact. I went back and found I’d noted that mistake in the first proof, but somehow I never followed up on it… amateurs! 😉
Reflections:
The last line, This is called matching of Nature’s ancient utmost, struck me today. Not right off the bat however. The wording puzzled me at first. And to think, I’m the one who chose those words in the first place. J
I feel it is essential to keep perception as loose as comfortably possible in order to prevent pre-conceptions from obstructing the ‘bigger picture’. By bigger picture, I suppose I really mean the view from the living moment, and not some remembered ‘cliché’.
Keeping the translation as close to the Chinese as possible makes it somewhat less susceptible to cliché; one has to work to breathe meaning into the words. So, I looked down at the word for word section to breathe life into the words.
First, what does nature’s ancient utmost mean? I see, “sky (heaven; day; season; nature; God) ancient (age-old) of extreme (pole, utmost)”. My experience of life—”the days, seasons, nature”—is one of peaks and valleys—”extremes, poles, utmost”—and plenty of level times in between. My experience is really an ongoing relationship—”join in marriage, mate, match”—that I’m having with nature through the seasons of my life.
In my clearest and most tranquil moments, I feel “married” to nature. This parallels the nun’s or monk’s sense of being married to God, or to Jesus… in the best sense of that view. Different words, same reality…, which highlights how words can so easily trap perception into pre-conception and bias!
Second Pass: Work in Progress
Issues:
First up in the first line, One adept in being a scholar is not martial. Here, martial read a little awkward today, so here are various other meaning of that character. Wǔ (武) means: military; connecting with the boxing skill, swordplay, etc.; valiant; fierce. Militant fits the meanings well and reads better, yes? Being militant and a scholar are like oil and water.
Next, scholar is easily misleading if seen too narrowly in the modern context. It helps to broaden the view: Shì (士) means: bachelor; scholar; noncommissioned officer; a person trained in a certain field; person; bodyguard. It the modern era, people are much more specialized that they were several thousand plus years ago. It helps me to think of scholar as one suitable for being a Supreme Court judge. Political or religious militancy would just interfere with judicial, scholarly impartiality. Such obsessive-compulsive personalities are best left to rant and rave on the sidelines or on the front lines.
The third line, One adept in victory over enemies does not participate, may need deliberation to fully appreciate (well, doesn’t that apply to everything?). Note that the character for participate has two tonal pronunciations which convey slightly different meanings. The character (与) can be (1) yǔ meaning: give; offer; grant; get along with; be on good terms with; help; support; <conj.> and; together with. Or it can be (2) yù meaning: take part in; participate in.
In fact, they both point the same direction (as sharing the same character suggests). More to the point, how does not participate leads to victory? To appreciate this requires a broader sense of what participating means, which could get tedious to describe! Oh well, here goes nothing…
Life is essentially a war… a war against entropy if nothing else. Life is a struggle, sometime intense, sometimes light, but always a struggle. The heart struggles to pump one’s blood; the lung struggle to breath. In the wild, animals struggle continually to find food. To engage in any struggle, from the simplest of life’s activities to all out warfare, one participates. Participation is propelled by one’s needs or fears; what one likes or hates. The saying, ‘it takes two to fight’ also speaks to this. Maintaining a certain degree of detachment (less participation) allows one to see opening, opportunities, alternatives which lead more directly to the desired outcome. Contrarily, emotion driven intense participation blindsides us to alternatives that may be more fruitful and speed us to victory. Whew!
Commentary:
It is helpful to interpret things as referring to ‘what is inside’. For example, the empire or the people are usually thought of a objects external to oneself. Take lines 3 and 4: This is called employing the ability of the people and One adept in victory over enemies does not participate. I also interpret the people and enemies as the various sides of myself, my ideas, moods, fears, needs, the internal facets of my nature. No, I don’t suffer from multi-personality disorder. Although, I can see how people who can get locked into various aspects of themselves to the point of being unaware of their other ‘sides’, i.e., Dr, Jeckle and Mr. Hyde. Perhaps such extreme splits in personality are the only way such people can deal with their ‘people’. Dealing with one’s internal ‘people’ and ‘enemies’ with the Taoist approach offered here, in my view, requires making use of profound sameness to ease the situation (again though, doesn’t that apply to every situation?).
Suggested Revision:
One adept in being a scholar is not militant(.)
One adept in battle is not enraged.
One adept in victory over enemies does not participate.
This is called the moral character of not contending.
This is called employing the ability of the people.
This is called matching of Nature’s ancient utmost(.)
First Pass: Chapter of the Week
My enemy, in a broadest sense of the word, is anyone or anything that is ‘wrong’. Wrong being whatever stands in the way of what I desire. This makes desiring not to desire an ironic notion, eh? This chapter also give practical insight on dealing with this enemy, whether it is desire itself, or that which thwarts winning my heart’s desire. It turns out that contending with what is ‘wrong’ only intensifies the ‘wrong’ I feel. I only ends up in a vicious circle as this enemy grows even larger.
I first noticed this while walking to work in winter in Japan. I noticed how, along with others, I was grimacing and complaining about the cold. The Bhagavad Gita with its message of surrender(1) offered me the sound path I needed at the time. As I began to cease battling the cold, the less cold I felt. The cold wasn’t wrong, bad, or the enemy any longer; life mellowed. The idea of surrender in a spiritual sense is not the outright capitulation it usually suggests; yet it is just that—capitulation. This is a good example of straightforward words seem paradoxical and also perhaps of fearless in being timid. Fear accounts for surrender of the ordinary kind; just the opposite with surrender of the spiritual kind.
Wanting life to be other than it is makes life a more sorrowful and stressful journey. It is just such impatient, chomping at the bit, desires that stress me most. This happens when I dwell on the ideal of where I-desire-to-be juxtaposed with where I-think-I-am now. I avoid much of this by retaining only enough ideal to persevere with purpose, and let go of (forget!) the rest of the ideal. In other words, ideals are potent, and more than a little turns them poisonous.
The last line of this chapter, This is called matching Nature’s ancient utmost, is closer to the literal Chinese than D.C. Lau’s This is known as matching the sublimity of heaven. However, both mean truly the same thing don’t they? This meaning is also expressed elsewhere in the Tao Te Ching as emptiness and stillness, as vast and resembles nothing, as the thread running through the way, and of course as the virtue of Nothing. This is to say, it is not the words that truly matter. Meaning really lies in depth and breadth of one’s interpretation.
It is this ‘force of nature’, the utmost ancient of nature, that evokes in me a proper sense of awe. How can such sublime nothing-ness drive the universe, from accelerating galaxies to stirring the hunger that drives my ducks to seek out bugs hither and thither. This same process operates at all levels of existence. The more I sense this throughout my day, the smoother the day turns out. Indeed, always keeping watch on this forest of Nothing helps avoid becoming blind-sided by the trees of something.
For as long as I can remember, my core enemy has been ignorance along with a commensurate lack of watchfulness. However, I now realize ignorance and watch-less-ness are just other aspects of ‘nothing-ness’. Throughout the day I experience my own ignorance and lack of watchfulness, yet, by accepting these as core aspects of the way, I can persevere without contending or meddling with myself, or with others.
We are bio-hoodwinked into seeing the internal and the external as poles apart—like black and white, material and spiritual, mind and body, and so on. Through Taoist eyes I truly see no such difference. I see the battles I wage within myself directly expressed in my dealings with others. Being aware of this direct connection is key to employing the ability of other. Others? Others is only the reflection of myself; myself is only the reflection of others. Whew!
(1) These are two example of the Bhagavad Gita’s message of surrender:
For concentration is better than mere practice, and meditation is better than concentration; but higher than meditation is surrender in love of the fruit of one’s actions, for on surrender follows peace. (12:12)
The renunciation of selfish works is called renunciation; but the surrender of the reward of all work is called surrender. (18:2)