Introduction

Continuing with translating and offering commentary on the Dao De Jing, here is the second verse titled Cultivating the Main Point.

This chapter had a few fascinating and challenging lines. Enjoy!

Translation

Once beauty is recognized,
the idea of ugliness is created.

Once good is established,
so is the notion of not good.

In the same way…

“Have” and “have not” create each other.
“Difficulty” and “ease” turn into each other.
“Long” and “short” form each other.
“High” and “low” rely upon each other.

Syllables and words echo each other.
Before and after follow each other.

All things are like this.

Through this principle, the Wise abide:
Serving without an agenda.
Teaching by doing, not telling.

In all the Wise do, they…

Act without waxing lyrical.
Create without possessing.
Do without imposition.
Succeed without acquisition.

Only in such non-accumulation can there be no loss.

Commentary

The opening two lines are pretty straightforward examples of how creating one side of a spectrum automatically sets up its opposite.

Once beauty is recognized,
the idea of ugliness is created.

Once good is established,
so is the notion of not good.

What’s less obvious, though, is that all dichotomies are arbitrary, fundamentally relative, and inclusive of each other. All of the examples given allude to different layers of this realization. Each can be fascinating to explore. Here are some of the things that come to mind in contemplating them.

“Have” and “have not” create each other.

Setting up possession through the idea of “have” necessarily creates those that “have not.” Only in this context can there be greed, coveting, scarcity, lack, and loss. Yet, we only have such feelings in contexts where the thing possessed by another is something we care about. There are many places where people “have” and we “have not” that we don’t care about. In those instances, it doesn’t occur to us that there is “have” and “have not” and that dichotomy has no consequences.

“Difficulty” and “ease” turn into each other.

A Chinese phrase says, “That which is difficult, you can’t do; that which you can do isn’t difficult.” Nothing is difficult; it’s just a function of how much time and energy we put into the task. Whatever we start doing for the first time feels more challenging than it does when we do it for the 100th time. The 10,000th time is that much easier than the 100th. All along the way, things that were hard become easy. Things that are easy become effortless.

“Long” and “short” form each other. “High” and “low” rely on each other.

An inch becomes two. Add eight more inches and you get a foot. 5,280 feet make a mile. It would feel like a thing if I had to run a mile, but the same mile in a car wouldn’t seem like a big deal. If I’m used to a one-hour commute, then changing jobs and only having to drive 10 minutes would feel like nothing. After reading a few 1000-page novels, reading 150 pages seems like nothing. Even though space is objectively measurable, our experience of it is entirely relative.

The next pair of lines about syllables/words and before/after further emphasizes how the same is true of thought and time. Our evolution of concepts and comparisons creates the experience we live in. Or, as pointed out in the first chapter, “the act of naming gives birth to all things.”

None of these constraints are applicable in the undifferentiated, pure potential of the unnameable. The process of naming creates the delineations we can interact with. These delineations are, by nature, dualistic, arbitrary, relative, and mutually inclusive.

Having established that our distinction-making apparatus has these qualities, the verse states what wisdom looks like.

Through this principle, the Wise abide:
Serving without an agenda.
Teaching by doing, not telling.

When we have an adequately loose relationship with language and, consequently, can quickly shift our perspectives, we no longer need to impose our agendas on the world. The notion of “serving without an agenda” translates into a line that includes the core Daoist concept of wuwei.

You’ve probably heard wuwei translated as “non-action,” or “non-striving.” What it means is doing things naturally, according to the circumstances, rather than trying to force one’s agenda onto events. The actions of someone so fluid can have a grace and ease that makes their work seem effortless. I prefer the term “(y)in-action.” While it’s admittedly a bit awkward, yin refers to the What Is of our Being (still, immediate, aliveness).

This means serving according to the situation’s needs, not one’s ego-centric desires. Hence, “serving without an agenda.”

The Wise are also more inclined to teach by doing, not telling. What we do is real and true, not what we say. All of our words are limited, relative, and subjective. This is the opposite of the popular teaching axiom, “Do as I say, not as I do.” Hypocrisy is too easy; role modeling is the only truly effective form of instruction. Less skeptically, seeing someone do something conveys remarkably more information than having it described in words.

The verse closes with some qualities that emerge from the above understanding and lead

to freedom from the existential burdens that create suffering.

In all the Wise do, they…

Act without waxing lyrical.
Create without possessing.
Do without imposition.
Succeed without acquisition.

We don’t need to toot our horns. We don’t need to be possessive about our work. Doing things well doesn’t mean they have to be done our way. Success does not have to inflate our sense of self or be exclusively ours.

Only in such non-accumulation can there be no loss.

Without the notion of possession, there can be no loss. In other words, we can realize that we are guests in this world while still in it. In this openness is freedom and joy far beyond whatever we could accumulate for ourselves. By extension, there is nothing to lose when we recognize our distinct unity with the whole of life.