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Chapter 19 of 35
周易参同契
🌙 At the dawn of the first day of each lunar month, the yang qi (life-generating energy) between heaven and earth begins to flow freely. This yang qi is like a tender new sprout—coming and going without obstruction. Measured by instruments, one can perceive the faint rising of firm and vigorous energy. In music, the Yellow Bell corresponds to the month of Zi (the eleventh month), when the signs of all things coming to life begin to grow and manifest. Heaven and earth spread soft and warming yang energy like spring breezes, and all people and all things find their proper place and rest in the constant Way.
⛰ Yang qi continues to grow, as if laying out branches and opening a path beside the furnace, directly facing the light. The radiance gradually increases, and the daylight grows longer each day. By the month of Chou, the musical note corresponds to Da Lü—here yin and yang are rectified in union, heaven and earth commingle, forming the Tai hexagram—where strength and gentleness flourish equally. Yang qi travels afar in all directions, interfusing with all things. The small departs and the great arrives, like spokes converging upon a hub, revolving in accord with the season.
🌱 Gradually passing through the Great Strength hexagram, yang energy reaches full vigor, arrayed at the Mao Gate (the spring equinox). At this time, elm pods fall one after another, returning to their roots. Punishment and grace hold each other in balance; day and night become equal. Yin qi recedes, yang qi advances upward—like a bird washing its wings, shaking off old dust. The Qian hexagram represents firm strength and brilliant brightness, with yang qi broadly covering the four directions. Yang reaches its climax in the month of Si; at fullest abundance it attains centrality, and yin begins to interfere with it.
🍂 The Gou hexagram begins its sequence—one yin line is first born, like stepping on frost and knowing that bitter winter is approaching—this is the earliest sign. Cold springs well up from the bottom of the well; the month of Wu corresponds to the musical note Rui Bin. Yang guests itself beneath yin; yin becomes the host in return. The noble person withdraws from the world, retires from their position, and gathers in their essential energy. Treasuring virtue while awaiting the right moment, dwelling in dark obscurity. The Pi hexagram symbolizes blockage and obstruction—sprouts no longer grow. Yin stretches forth while yang contracts; yang becomes hidden, even its "name and form" disappearing.
Observe the balance and measure of yin and yang; examine the conditions of all things in autumn. Allow the tiny and minute to be nurtured; let withered and old plants flourish anew. Shepherd's purse and wheat sprout their seedlings, growing under the shelter of yin. The Bo hexagram symbolizes stripping away the limbs, diminishing the physical form. Since yang qi is already exhausted, it seems even its miraculous function is lost.
🌌 Yet the operation of the Dao is such that when extremity is reached, there is return. Yang qi returns to the Kun Yuan (the most primordial pure-yin state of the earth). Constantly according with the principle of the earth, receiving the way of heaven and transforming all things. Mysterious, profound, remote, and indistinct—yin and yang, though separated, remain forever connected. Conforming to measure and degree, nurturing and transforming, this is the source of yin and yang. Vast and open, vague and indistinct—no one can know its origins.
"First it loses the track, then becomes the lord and master"—at first it seems to lose the way, but later it becomes the ruler. There is no road that is perpetually flat without slopes—this is the natural law of the Way. Change and transformation alternate; flourishing and decline depend upon each other. Ending in Kun, it begins again with Fu—like interlocking rings, circling endlessly. If a sovereign can carry this heavenly Way and guide the myriad people, they may endure for a thousand generations.
This chapter employs the twelve sovereign hexagrams (Fu, Lin, Tai, Da Zhuang, Guai, Qian, Gou, Dun, Pi, Guan, Bo, Kun) as its framework, paired with the twelve pitch pipes (Yellow Bell, Da Lü, Rui Bin, etc.) and the twelve months, painting a complete portrait of the cyclical ebb and flow of yin and yang.
Its core principles operate on three levels:
First, the waxing and waning of yin and yang is the fundamental rhythm of cosmic operation. From the single yang line first emerging in Fu, to the peak of yang in Qian, to the return of one yin line in Gou, and finally to the pure yin of Kun—this is not mere recurrence, but "mutual causation within the tides": within diminishment there is growth, within growth there is diminishment. Extremity of fullness brings decline; extremity of decline brings return. Yin and yang are never isolated existences, but a dynamic equilibrium of mutual dependence and alternating prominence.
Second, lunar phases and inner cultivation share the same structure. "On the new moon, Fu" reveals that the new moon corresponds to the initial return of yang. The Cantong Qi uses the waxing and waning of the moon to illustrate the rhythm of yin and yang ebb and flow within the human body—this is not astronomy, but the synchronization of one's nature and life-force with the rhythms of the Dao.
Third, "when the Way reaches its end, it returns" is the ultimate consolation. When yang is stripped away completely and seems to have "lost its divine function," this is precisely the moment of turning. When Bo reaches its extreme, Fu must come; when Kun reaches its extreme, Qian returns—this is the Way's inherent "reset mechanism." Thus the darkest moment is precisely when the light is about to return.
The greatest revelation this text offers to modern people may be its provision of a completely new perspective on peaks and valleys.
🌑 Modern people are accustomed to a linear view of progress—feeling that life should move ever upward, panicking at setbacks, and fearing stagnation. But the Cantong Qi states it clearly: "No road is perpetually flat—such is the nature of the Way." There is no road that never descends; after the uphill comes the downhill, and after the downhill comes the uphill again. This is not a malfunction of life, but the very rhythm of the Dao itself.
Consider: have you ever experienced a moment of "stripped limbs"—energy exhausted, creativity dried up, feeling that everything has "lost its spirit"? Modern psychology calls this burnout. The Daoist answer is: this is not an ending, but Kun Yuan—a profound "zeroing out" state of quiet accumulation. Like winter soil, appearing dead, yet nurturing the next spring.
🌗 The phrase "first it loses the track, then becomes the lord and master" deserves deep contemplation. Many times when you feel you have lost your direction, it is simply that the old road has been completed and the new one has not yet opened. That "period of disorientation" is precisely the necessary transition. Do not rush to force "return" during the Kun phase; rather, "treasure virtue and await the right moment"—rest quietly and gather strength, waiting for the natural turning of the cycle.
The wisdom of wu wei (non-forcing, according with heaven's rhythm) manifests itself completely here: it is not about doing nothing, but about doing what is timely. Sow in spring, grow in summer, harvest in autumn, hibernate in winter. The modern person's problem is often: winter has arrived, yet they still force themselves to "plant seeds."
1. Recognize your current "hexagram position." The twelve sovereign hexagrams provide a "map of life's seasons." You can ask yourself: Is this a "Great Strength" period of full vigor, or a "Retreat" period of withdrawal? Is this a "Tai" period of free flow, or a "Pi" period of blockage? Recognizing the season enables you to choose appropriate strategies—withdrawing when withdrawal is timely is not failure; it is wisdom.
2. In times of fullness, preserve reserve; in times of decline, maintain faith. "Qian's strong brightness, broadly covering the four directions" is certainly glorious—but immediately follows "yang culminates in Si; at its center, interference begins." At the zenith of power, yin is already secretly growing. Daoism reminds us: at the peak, one must have the awareness to "know when to stop." Conversely, when you face "obstruction and blockage, sprouts not growing," know that "when the Way is exhausted, it returns" is an iron law—maintain faith, do nothing destructive, and quietly await the turning.
3. Rename your "low points." "Returning to Kun Yuan" is not a failed return to zero, but a return to the embrace of the Mother Earth. This is an extraordinarily gentle expression. When you feel you want to do nothing and can do nothing, try reframing: you are "constantly according with the principle of earth"—returning to your root, nurturing your jing, qi, and shen (the three fundamental energies of life). This is not depletion; this is nourishment.
Are yin and yang one or two?
This chapter repeatedly describes the waxing and waning of yin and yang, suggesting they are opposed. But the phrase "though separated, forever connected" reveals the secret: on the surface yin and yang are "separate," yet in essence they remain "connected." They are not two things fighting each other, but one thing breathing.
The first yang line of Fu "beginning to flow" and the yin of Gou "becoming host" are not two different stories, but two chapters of the same story. The "small departs, great arrives" of Tai and the "great departs, small arrives" of Pi are reverse descriptions of the same movement. Daoism's attitude toward dualism runs far deeper than we imagine: yin and yang are not opposing forces in struggle, but the rising-and-falling rhythm of a single whole.
This directly echoes Zhuangzi's insight of "the equality of all things": discrimination is a product of cognition, not of ultimate reality. When you feel "yang," yin is already present; when you feel "yin," yang is already on its way back.
This content is based on a Daoist classical text and is provided solely for traditional cultural study and life reference. It does not constitute religious, medical, or investment advice.