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Chapter 18 of 35
周易参同契
At the intersection of darkness and brightness, the two energies of yin and yang join like matching talismans, circulating within heaven and earth. At this moment, the cosmos is undifferentiated chaos, primordial energy朦胧 and indistinct, with feminine and masculine mutually dependent. Nourishing fluids moisten all things, and the work of transformation flows without obstruction. The wondrous functioning of heaven and earth is mysterious and unfathomable, impossible to measure. If one can emulate this Way, one may settle the body and, concealing one's radiance (storing away sharpness, contending with nothing), retreat into hidden depths. 🌙
This cycle begins at the position of the Ji and Dou lodges in the northeast. The moon then turns rightward, like a wheel emitting the budding sprout of light. Gradually, a faint glow reveals itself in the deep pool, emanating subtle brilliance. When it reaches the Mao and Bi lodges, the sign of Zhen hexagram (☳, symbolizing thunder's movement, the first arising of yang) becomes manifest. Yang energy begins from this point, like the hidden dragon of Qian hexagram's First Nine — concealed, not yet revealed. 🌱
Yang's foundation is established in three; yin's circulation proceeds by eight. On the third day, the new moon begins to form — the stirring of Zhen. On the eighth day, the moonlight gradually brightens — the Dui hexagram (☱, symbolizing joy, moisture) comes into play. This corresponds to Qian's Nine in the Second Place: "Dragon appearing in the field" — yin and yang are in harmony and brilliance gradually grows. By the fifteenth day, the number three-times-five equals fifteen and reaches fullness; the body of the Qian hexagram (☰, pure yang) is thus accomplished — the full moon hangs in the sky. ⛰️
Yet when extremity is reached, decline inevitably follows. Nine in the Third Place: "Evening vigilance brings peril" — the moon's phase begins to wane, and the wondrous talisman shows signs of loss. Decline and growth transform gradually, ultimately returning to the beginning. The Xun hexagram (☴, symbolizing wind, entry, yielding) inherits Qian's governing thread, at this time guarding boundaries and managing with caution. Nine in the Fourth Place: "Perhaps leaping into the abyss" — between advance and retreat, the Way is precarious. The Gen hexagram (☶, symbolizing stopping, stillness) presides over the mechanism of advancing and halting, not to be transgressed beyond its time. By the twenty-third day, the lower quarter phase is observed. Nine in the Fifth Place: "Flying dragon in the heavens" — the heavenly position is auspicious; yet at this moment yang is nearly exhausted. Six in the Fifth Place of the Kun hexagram (☷, symbolizing earth, bearing) follows in succession, binding together the full cycle from beginning to end. Kun's virtue nourishes all offspring, serving generation after generation as the mother of all things. Top Nine: "Arrogant dragon will have cause for regret" — yang energy over-extends and contends in the open field. Using Nine: the dragons appear without heads — this indeed is the regulative principle of the Great Way. 🍃
When the yang numbers are exhausted, exhaustion gives rise to renewal. Investigating the emotions and aligning with the natures, yin and yang turn to mutual giving. They circulate like the Xuan Ji (ancient astronomical instrument, a metaphor for the celestial pivot's rotation), ascending and descending, flowing through the six positions — their traces difficult to perceive at a glance. Thus it has no fixed position, yet it is the ancestor and root of the entire Book of Changes.
This chapter employs the waxing and waning of the moon's phases as a complete symbolic system, rigorously mapping the hexagram and line structures of the Book of Changes to the process of yin-yang ebb and flow in inner alchemy cultivation, revealing a fundamental law of the Heavenly Way: cyclical recurrence without beginning or end.
On the surface, it speaks of the moon's trajectory from dark to bright, from the first to the thirtieth day. In actuality, it points to this: all movement of life energy follows the rhythm of "birth — growth — flourishing — decline — concealment." Alchemical practice does not seek one-sidedly to "increase yang energy," but rather to recognize and yield to this cycle itself. Though the full moon of the fifteenth is splendid, it is also the starting point of decline; though the thirtieth day's total darkness seems dim, it is precisely the prelude to new birth.
"It has no fixed position" is the finishing stroke of the entire chapter — the true "ancestor" is not any single fixed line position or hexagram image, but change itself — that fundamental force driving yin and yang in an unbroken ring.
Perhaps the greatest message this chapter offers to modern people lies in its profound understanding of rhythm. 🌊
We live in an era that encourages "always forward, always growing": performance must increase year after year, our state must be constantly online, our emotions must always be positive. But the Cantong Qi tells us through the moon's phases: fullness and deficiency are two faces of the same thing. The fifteenth's full moon is beautiful precisely because it must inevitably move toward waning; nor does the thirtieth day's darkness represent failure — it is merely the preparatory period for renewed growth.
What modern psychology calls "energy cycles" and "emotional rhythms" are essentially modern expressions of this ancient wisdom. What matters is not forcing oneself to remain perpetually in the "fifteenth-day full moon" state, but knowing which phase one is in and what should be done then. Resting peacefully in the "hidden dragon of First Nine," blooming fully in the "flying dragon of Nine in the Fifth," knowing when to withdraw in the "arrogant dragon of Top Nine" — this is respect for the rhythm of life. 🍃
"It has no fixed position, yet is the ancestor of the Changes" raises a profound philosophical question: What exactly is "constancy"?
Laozi said, "Knowing constancy is called discernment," and the Cantong Qi here offers a seemingly contradictory answer: the true "constancy" is precisely "having no fixed position" — the eternally unchanging is change itself. This is neither mechanism seeking fixed order, nor pure nihilism. It points to a "dynamic constancy," like the rotating Xuan Ji — moving at every moment, yet always revolving around the same central axis.
This forms an interesting contrast with the Buddhist "all conditioned things are impermanent": Buddhism breaks attachment through impermanence, while Daoism perceives the cosmic pivot through impermanence. One is transcendence; the other is harmonious adaptation — each with its own ultimate aim.
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This content is based on classical Daoist texts and is provided solely for traditional cultural study and life reference. It does not constitute religious, medical, or investment advice.