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.)
Fourth Pass: Chapter of the Month
(pandemic era)
Zoom on YouTube Recordings:
https://youtu.be/D0PxF5UnKz0 is the link to the Zoom video of this month’s Sunday meeting. The shorter first part of the meeting begins with a chapter reading followed by attendees’ commentary, if any. A little later on begins the longer open discussion part of the meeting when those who wish to discuss how the chapter relates to their personal experience.
Corrections?
Nothing this time.
Reflections:
One adept in being a person is not militant.
I feel in being a person as meaning being an evenly keeled human being, more or less at peace with the world as it is. When I’m not militant about some facet of life, I feel balanced. However, when fear or need drives me into an aggressive obsessive corner, that corner drowns out everything but that strident emotion. Of course, that is how nature intends it to be. That is why it’s in my best interest to be wary of any stirring militant emotions. “Pick your battles wisely”, as they say. Importantly, any ability to pick my battles wisely hinges on the extent of the disease within me, i.e., Realizing I don’t know is better; not knowing this knowing is disease. The more acute this disease, the less wisdom is able to rule my day.
One adept in battle is not enraged.
Long ago while learning Karate, I noticed that the calmer I could remain in the face of battle (free sparring jiyu kumite) the more adept I was at seeing what was going on. As emotion (fear or need) increased, this passion blinded me to any ‘first strike’ or ‘timely defense’ opportunities. Of course, such battle extremes are not common in daily life, per se. Nonetheless, life overall is a constant, albeit, low-key battle. Keeping one’s cool as much as practical wins the day. Here, the disease will always play a large role because our thoughts have a way of amplifying and skewing perceptions.
One adept in victory over enemies does not participate.
The idea of victory over enemies has to be redefined somewhat to make sense in normal life. Essentially, anything that I dislike is an enemy, and anything that I like is a friend. Our likes and dislikes in life drive the ways we participate in life. In order to not participate, I find I must blur the sharp distinctions between my likes and dislikes. Thus, my real victory over enemies is really a matter of my victory over my likes and dislikes. The initial 4 lines of chapter 4 offers sound guidance…
When I succeed here, the final three lines of this chapter open wide.
Note: It is misleading to interpret Supreme Being as being God or the like. Again, chapter 1 precludes any naming of the mystery. Consider the literal charaters, 帝之先 (xiàng dì zhī xiān), for this line:
象= appearance (shape; image; resemble)
帝= the Supreme Being (emperor. supreme ruler, god)
之先= of earlier (before; first; ancestor, early / prior / former / in advance / first).
This line is referring to what came before “the supreme being”, “god”. In other words what came before the creation of everything; what preceded the ‘big bang’, to put it in contemporary terms. It should be evident why words fail us here.
One adept in utilizing people acts from the lower position.
I once had a bunch of egg laying hens. One hen was the ballsy ‘cock’ of the group. This pecking order didn’t truly change when a raccoon killed her. Another hen just rose up to fill the void… to ‘rule the roost’. I’ve find that when I’m able to take the lower position, other people naturally rise up to fulfill their potential. Being unaware or unable to act from the lower position is a real liability—a real missed opportunity—for those in charge of others. Of course, acting from the lower position is only possible when one feels self secure enough to allow life to play out naturally, i.e., wéi wú wéi, (为无为) Doing without doing. Again, this following without exception rules approach is only possible when one is self-secure enough. Still, simply knowing the ‘magic’ of this approach may help tip the scales occasionally.
This is called the moral character of not contending.
One problem that spiritual ideals stir up is the challenging and unrealistic urge to ‘walk the talk’ spiritually. This urge is born in our imagination. We can imagine a reality that is highly skewed from Nature’s ancient utmost. Contending and cooperating are two essential facets of life. Calling something the moral character of not contending is overall misguided. All the same, in a world biased towards competition, it is natural to emphasize the opposite, i.e., not contending. Even so, I find it works more efficiently to realize the forces in nature, and let that guide me as much as practicable. Otherwise, I find it all too easy to get trapped in an ideal. When that happens, I just end up in a losing battle contending with myself… my reality vs. my ideality.
This is called employing the ability of the people.
This line reiterates line 4, One adept in utilizing people acts from the lower position. And having the moral character of not contending certainly makes this more possible. Certainly, all this sound great on paper theoretically, but it isn’t the whole picture! Problems arise when we only see part of the picture yet think we see the whole picture. The reality we see is merely a reflection of our self—our inner nature— at the moment, despite our fear or need induced certainty that we see an objective reality… a true ‘out there’.
Ah yes, back to chapter 71… Realizing I don’t know is better; not knowing this knowing is disease. Calling out this disease is perhaps the most significant insight of the Tao Te Ching. And perhaps, one of the most threatening to the human imagination and ego, at least if taken seriously.
This is called matching of Nature’s ancient utmost.
All the lines above are aspects of matching Nature’s ancient utmost, albeit, with more emphasis on one side. What is Nature’s ancient utmost? Examining this at the character level may help: Sky (heaven; day; season; nature; God) ancient (age-old) of extreme (pole, utmost) = tiān gŭ zhī jí = 天古之极. The character 极 is the Ji in Tai Chi… great pole… yin and yang.
Nothing is left out of Nature’s ancient utmost! Yet, this chapter emphasizes the more passive (yin) qualities. Civilization has an innate need to embody the primarily yang side of the coin to make its hierarchical social system function optimally (see The Tradeoff).
Spirituality attempts to remind us of the benefits and balance that the yin aspects of Nature bring. What always seems lacking is a full recognition and acceptance of the whole. We need to have an enemy to rally our spirits around, and so we believe that whatever stands in the way of what we want is an enemy. Truth be told, taking on an enemy never resolves the situation. As chapter 69 offers…
So, doesn’t it always come back to this… Realizing I don’t know is better; not knowing this knowing is disease?
Chapter Archive https://youtu.be/ytacf6popUM
This is the complete video. It begins with blowing Zen followed by the meeting
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)