Loading...
Chapter 35 of 35
周易参同契
At the foot of Kuaiji Mountain, this humble one, a decaying scholar in a secluded valley, holds a simple and unadorned heart, taking no delight in power or glory. Dwelling in a remote and crude place, I disregard fame and gain, holding fast to tranquility and emptiness, seeking only a moment of peace. Resting contentedly in leisure, I set about writing this work.
Through song and verse, I set forth the principles of the great Yijing—the legacy words of the three sages Fu Xi, King Wen, and Confucius—examining their essential purport and unifying them into a single coherent discourse. The key lies not in polished rhetoric or ornate prose, but in manifesting and illuminating the inner spirit. When spirit and vitality flow and transform freely, all within the four seas naturally attain harmony. Render this principle into calendrical terms, and ten thousand generations may follow it; employ it as a discourse on治国理政, and its practice is not burdensome; extend it inwardly to nourish life, and it accords with the natural Dao of Huang-Lao—deep in accumulated virtue, returning to the root and restoring the mandate, reverting to the primal beginning.
The Dao resides near at hand, within one's own heart, never departing from this very body. ** Holding fast to the One ** (the unified state of focusing on the fundamental source of the Dao) without letting go, one may attain longevity and enduring existence. Combined with the practice of ingestion and nourishment, yin and yang, female and male, each take their proper place. Setting aside the realgar and lead ore of Wudu, discarding the eight minerals and miscellaneous herbs, one carefully employs that which can perfect the Elixir—this is what the world should treasure. Setting forth the three paths (governing, self-cultivation, and ingestion), they are like branches connected to a single stem. They share one root yet bear different names, all emerging from the same gate. This is not merely the stacking of phrases and the matching of couplets; there is genuine meaning within, just as among gravel and stone there lies jade worth beholding. Were I to write hollow words of pretense, I would be adding to my own transgressions. I name this work the Can Tong Qi*— glance at its opening and perceive its purport; words are concise yet the meaning is vast, and later students should hold it in reverence. Relinquish worldly affairs to avoid calamity, and find refuge among mountain groves.
Roaming through the vast and boundless heavens, keeping company with ghosts and spirits. Transforming form to become an immortal, silent and without sound. A hundred generations hence, still wandering among the human realm. Unfurling feathery wings, soaring to the four directions. When Tang of Shang encountered his era of tribulation, flood and drought alternated in visitation. Branches and leaves withered to yellow, losing their bloom and luster. When auspicious persons bear one another up and support each other, they may abide in stability and attain long life.
This chapter serves as the concluding autobiographical narrative of the Can Tong Qi. Wei Boyang, introducing himself as "a humble man of Kuaiji, a decaying scholar of a secluded valley," declares his authorial stance—reclusive, unadorned, indifferent to fame and profit. The entire chapter is threaded through with one core logic: the Great Yi, Huang-Lao, and the Dao of the Elixir all emerge from the same gate. The so-called "setting forth three paths, branches joined to a single stem, certain same root yet different names, all emerging from one gate" refers to the three paths of calendrical astronomy (governing), inner self-cultivation (Huang-Lao naturalness), and external elixir ingestion (alchemical practice)—all fundamentally being different unfoldings of the same Dao.
Deeper still, this chapter cleverly conceals an intricate structure: "Relinquish the times to avoid harm, rely upon the hills and mountains. Wander through the boundless vast, keeping company with ghosts. Thus, transformation of form achieves immortality, sinking into silence without sound. A hundred generations hence, roaming the human realm. Spreading feather wings, toward east, west, and south. Tang suffered calamity's verge, flood and drought dividing and blocking. Branches and leaves withered and yellow, losing their splendor and glory. Fortunate people bear each other up, secure and long-lived." These eight lines are not merely romantic imaginings of immortal journeys; through the art of hidden characters, they encode the author's name and identity—the character 魏 (Wei) is tucked within「委」, 伯 (Bo) within「百」, and 陽 (Yang) embedded within lines about Tang's tribulation and Solar influence. [Translator's note: the ancients used cryptic language to conceal names within textual endings as a form of authorship—simultaneously humble and mystical]. This both inscribes his name and signals the compositional style of the entire Can Tong Qi: words reside here while meaning points there; truth is conveyed through imagery, reality is revealed through concealment.
In writing this chapter, Wei Boyang is essentially answering an eternal question: "Why are you writing these things at all?" His answer: neither for fame nor profit, neither seeking power nor glory, but solely to record the truth threading through all that he comprehended within the Sages' legacy words. This serves as a profound reminder for our era of information overload—the true meaning of creativity and learning lies not in the accumulation of ornate phrases or showing off skill, but in whether the spirit can "flow" outward.
The line "The key lies not in consistent presentation but in illuminating and manifesting the spirit" deserves particular reflection today. Many in our time pursue elegant prose and logical rigor while overlooking whether genuine lived experience stands behind their writing. Wei Boyang insists that the crux is not achieving stylistic elegance, but whether the spirit is genuinely illumined and transmitted to others. This resonates uncannily with the contemporary notion that "authenticity precedes craft" in communication theory.
"The Dao Resides near at hand, within one's own heart, never departing from this very body" delivers a sharp wake-up call to contemporary people. We habitually turn outward—signing up for courses, seeking mentors, scrolling for information—while overlooking that the most fundamental something always resides in us. Daoism has never preached a distant shore; the Dao exists in this moment, in this very body.
Wei Boyang's self-description—"dwelling in secluded carelessness, neglecting fame, holding to placidity, hoping only for tranquil moments"—offers an extremely polished template for the state of mind: reduce reliance on external judgment, making inner serenity the default state rather than something to chase after.
"Resting contentedly in leisure, I set about writing this work" tells us: genuine creation emerges from leisure—not idle emptiness, but a mind uncompelled by external forces. People of the present treat "busyness" as equivalent to productivity; Daoism reminds us conversely: leisure provides the fertile ground for creation.
The most practical takeaway is "holding fast to the One, never letting go." In an age of information fragmentation and forced constant-attention-shifting, "holding to the One" can fluidly be understood as: amid multifarious affairs, identify a core value or fundamental principle and refuse to be moved from it by circumstantial changes. Whether the chosen domain be one's professional orientation, family relationships, or personal cultivation—so long as the most fundamental "one" is clearly recognized and guarded, stability holds firm amidst turbulence.
"Relinquish the times to avoid harm" as well represents a practical life strategy: something's letting go when necessary, some environments you must walk away from. Daoism never advocates enduring and pushing endlessly; it speaks rather of "knowing when to stop"—true wisdom is knowing when to step back.
The chapter ultimately settles on "When fortunate people bear one another up, secure and long-lived becomes reality." But what exactly does this "longevity" refer to? Whether understood merely literally as physical immortality, attachment instantly arises. Reading in light of the earlier "transforming form to become an immortal, sinking into silence without sound," Wei Boyang's longevity approximates more closely the continuity of spirit and transformation of being—when a person fuses with the Dao, their influence persists "for a hundred genera-tional ages," eternal and visible centuries later, connecting far wider… As Laozi and Zhuangzi continue today, still being interacted with now→ translated "一百世以下" reveals ongoing impact well past their calendar names that ever speaks.
"Keeping company with ghostswith an astronomical edge and power-fracturing edge rather transforms meaning toward extreme-phrase insight**becomes highly tension-rich expression. "鬼 (guǐ)" reads in classical texts near concept "归 (return)" in broad connotations present-day, where returns" Also "the theory pair deaths=living, yang=" From Being vs directly "across both view This unity It" dao outside all differences-sames treat both interior Being carries potentially comparable beyond fundamental oppositions remains profound underlying acceptance-existence that which is being that dual and thought double from both births & returns==death central literal meaning with creation resonance especially worth modern individual actual "breathes vitality Through heretical Western duality in something positive-conjunction moment East accepting natural full. Possessing opposite no destructive. in inner conclusion Being indeed extends better and creative perhaps seeing least." h better ordinary = time-vortex extends literal.
At last a thought paradox matters exactly that might emerge — at final the poet entire emphasize "simplicity, refusing dishonor purposes core away label’ well labels elsewhere hiding personal from end to mystical hints involves idea existence hides essence cannot cannot no context allows personal; invisible existence never-name-be deeper than concept” than within into poet left insight
Translator note held changes intended meet good result principle interpretations might infer naturally becomes instead perfect adjustments equally hidden nuance matched requires cultural anchor adaptation toward primary default before remaining preservation translations necessarily plus comparative multiple tone uses allow additions flexibility maintains exact replication overall
以上见整体