Chapter 20第20章

Give up learning and you'll have no more worries. The difference between 'yes sir' and 'yeah' — how great is that really? Between good and bad — what's the actual distance? What others fear, I too must fear — how dreary, how endless! Everyone else is merry, as if enjoying a great feast, as if climbing a terrace in spring. I alone am placid, like an infant who hasn't yet learned to smile — listless, as if I have nowhere to go. Everyone has more than enough; I alone seem to have lost everything. Mine is the mind of a fool — muddled and confused! Others are bright and sharp; I alone am dim. Others are sure and certain; I alone am drifting. Restless as the sea, blown about endlessly. Everyone has a purpose; I alone am stubborn and uncouth. What makes me different from others is that I value being fed by the Mother.

Cease learning and there will be no sorrow. Between 'yes' and 'no' — how great is the difference? Between good and evil — how great the distance? What others fear, one must also fear — how vast and unending! The multitudes are joyous, as if feasting at a great sacrifice, as if ascending a terrace in spring. I alone am still, without any sign — like an infant who has not yet smiled. Desolate, as though I have no home to return to. Everyone has plenty; I alone appear to have lost everything. I have the mind of a fool — so vacant! This is the voice of the mystic — the one who has stepped outside the consensus trance and found that the world of normal human concerns has become transparent, has lost its grip. It's the description of someone who has eaten the fruit of a different tree and can no longer participate in the shared hallucination. And yet — 'I value being fed by the Mother.' The source. The root. The Tao itself sustains what culture cannot.

Wang Bi’s commentary on this extraordinary chapter captures the loneliness of the sage. Abandon learning and there is no worry. The gap between 'yes' and 'no,' between good and evil — how far apart are they really? The one who follows the Way is like someone who has no desire and simply stops. What need for increase? What need for progress? And yet everyone around is bustling and celebrating, enjoying the great feast, climbing the terraces in spring. The sage alone is still, showing no sign, like an infant who has not yet learned to smile. Vast and empty, without purpose, without preference — the sage seems like someone who has lost something. While everyone else has surplus, the sage alone seems bereft. While the worldly are brilliant and sharp, the sage alone is dull and confused. It is like the ocean — unfathomable, with no resting place. Everyone else has their uses and purposes, but the sage alone seems stubborn and uncouth. And what is this peculiarity? Wang Bi says: the sage alone values feeding from the mother — valuing the root and source rather than the decoration and flower of things.

Wang Bi’s commentary here traces the phenomenology of alienation from culture. Abandon learning: no worry. The distance between assent and denial, between good and evil — how great is it really? The practitioner of the Way has no desire and simply stops. No need for gain, no need for progress. Everyone else is celebrating, feasting, climbing towers in spring — the sage alone is tranquil, with no sign of intention, like an infant that has not yet smiled. Open and empty, seeming to have lost everything. Everyone else has surplus; the sage alone seems diminished. The worldly are illuminated; the sage is dim. The worldly are discriminating; the sage is muddled. Like the sea — boundless, with no resting point. Everyone has purposes; the sage alone is stubborn and coarse. And why? Wang Bi’s answer: the sage alone values 'feeding from the mother' — shi mu, valuing the root and source rather than the terminal flourishes. Everyone else values the flower, the decoration, the cultural achievement. The sage values the root. This is the complete inversion of civilizational values: what culture celebrates, the sage ignores; what culture ignores, the sage treasures.