Number codes refer to character listings in the Chinese dictionary.
Zìrán (139-1 with 91-6). Nose (self, personal, naturally) + dog meat on fire (however, like that, so). Spontaneously so; naturally so; self-so-ing; self-deriving. As Ames and Hall describe in their translation of the Dao De Jing, zìrán involves both self-creativity and co-creativity. It is the tendency of our true selves to emerge naturally and in harmony with our current environment when there is no interference. This is an ongoing process, not just an origin, and is essential to optimum health in Chinese medicine. All things and processes, including the dào, emulate zìrán.
Hé (108-2) grain-bearing plant + mouth. Harmony, peace. From Ames and Hall, using a culinary reference to the blending of ingredients: “Harmony so considered entails both the ‘integrity’ of the particular ingredient and its ‘integration’ into some larger whole. Signatory of this harmony is the persistence of the individual ingredients, their full self-disclosure in their collaborative relationship with the other ingredients, and the aesthetic nature of the resulting harmony – an elegant order that emerges out of the artful contextualization of intrinsically related details as they maximize the unique contribution of each one.” The importance of harmony in this sense cannot be overstated in Chinese medical treatment. Optimum health requires both the natural emergence of self, and the harmonizing of self with others, so that each is enhanced. Acupuncture points are special places in the body’s landscape where harmony is most easily called into service.
Zhēn (31-32) person upside down (transform) + eye + hidden + pedestal. Ancient meaning = spiritual transformation. Modern usage = true, real. The zhēnrén (realized person) is who we become when we are on our spiritual path. Such a person has realized the dào within himself, as a result of self-cultivation through meditation and experience.
Dào (148-6) step & stop (halting movement) + river/hair + face (similar to zì). Way, path, means, doctrine, road. Hair + face is typically translated as one character meaning “head” or “chief” but if you look at it as river + face, with the river representing that which constantly moves and flows, then dào could also be translated as the continuously shifting expression of who we are. Within the dào, there is the understanding that things and events may seem like discrete items which can be defined and categorized, but in truth, they are only momentary pauses in the ever-changing expression of our limitless, un-definable selves. A tree is not ultimately a definable singular object, nor does it have an ideal form; it is one perceptible expression of the tree’s un-namable self within a particular context. The tree and every other being in that forest co-create that context. It would take on a different form (focused expression) within a different context (field of expression). For this reason, to give the dào itself a fixed name and definition ultimately isn’t possible because it, too, is always changing its expression and has no ideal form. To function in this world, we make distinctions, but those names must not create false limits; the act of putting something into a category is an act of control which limits potential expression. As Ames and Hall suggest, proper naming is presentational rather than representational.
Some translations of Daoist cosmogony say that things come from the dào (as a noun); others say that things come from the process of dào-ing (as a verb). The same Chinese character can serve as a noun, adjective, adverb, or other part of speech depending on context, so both are correct. The context of creating and the creating of context shape each other. Our unlimited potential, our discrete expressions, and the backdrop for those expressions are all simultaneously implied by the dào. There is no independent initial beginning which can be considered separate from the multiplicity of expression; the dào has no beginning and no end. From Ames and Hall, “Daoism construes oneness and manyness as interdependent ways of looking at the process of experience…Viewed as the creative source of all things that, at the same time, is only experienceable through them, dào is both continuity and proliferation.”
Dé (31-29) step + ten eyes saw no concealment (straight) + heart. The pictograph for heart is also translated as mind, feelings, center, or middle. To step straight from one’s heart, or steps which show no concealment of the heart’s truth. Dé is variously translated as virtue, innate power, or inner nature. Dào and dé go hand in hand, our path and the steps we take which create that path. If those steps come from the heart without interference, they will be spontaneous and natural; they will follow the Way. (Many philosophies from the Hundred Schools of Thought era used same terminology - dao, de, wuwei, etc. - but each one interpreted and manipulated these terms differently. Thus the Confucian concept of virtue is much different that the Daoist version, emphasizing virtue as behavior in accordance with proper scripted conduct as opposed to behavior that emulates natural self-becoming.)
Qì (81-3) grains of rice (rice, kernel) + curling clouds (air). Rice dispersed like air. Airs, manners, spirit, morale. In Daoist literature, generally translated as “pneuma” (vital breath). One could view it as the kernel of who we are in an ever-changing cloud-form. It is the first hint of recognizable expression. Chinese medicine names different types of qì in the body based on function: organ qì, meridian qì, nutritive qì, protective qì, and so forth.
Yī (1-1) one/total/complete. In Daoism, the One (also called the Great One – Tài Yī) names a state of non-differentiation that holds within it potential expression. It is identified with húndùn (see below). Since each manifest expression still carries potential, it is said that the One is hidden within the many. In the person, the One is said to be the true self (because it has no limits), and he who knows the One knows all. There are a myriad of meditation practices designed to “keep” or “pervade” the One within the body.
Húndùn (158-5 with 66-54) water encompassing chariots (complete) + water with a plant rising through the surface (turbid). Turbulent completeness. “A sphere or matrix that holds within itself the whole universe, but in a diffuse, undifferentiated and potential state” (The Taoist Body, Kristofer Schipper). Húndùn is often translated as “primordial chaos” but more recent translations offer the term “spontaneous emergence.” The character for chariot also means cart, or any vehicle. Water enfolds the vehicle for expression (the form it will take), and develops patterns on its surface as that form emerges. In The Great One Gives Birth to the Waters, the process of emergence is thus described (Ames and Hall): “In the Great One giving birth to the waters, the waters collaterally assist the Great One, thereby producing the heavens. The heavens collaterally assist the Great One, thereby producing the earth. The heavens and earth again assist each other,” and so on.
Another description of emergence speaks in terms of qì. When dào-ing occurs, the qì contained within húndùn are given expression. The light, transparent qì rise, forming Heaven. The heavy, opaque qì sink, forming Earth. Heaven and Earth are the Two arising from the One. From these two, a third emerges – the harmonizing qì that functions between the Two (chōngqì, 69-29 with 81-3). This harmonious Three, being a sort of recovered unity, represents a oneness on a more complex level; thus all powers of the number three represent recovered unity in Chinese cosmology. From the first Three, the qì diversify via the harmonious interplay of yīn and yáng, and the Ten Thousand Things emerge.
“The number one of the Way was born.
A duad from the monad formed.
The duad next a triad made;
The triad bred the myriad,
Each holding yáng
And held by yīn,
Whose powers’ balanced interaction
Brings all ten thousand to fruition.”
(Dao De Jing, translation by Moss Roberts)
The terms Heaven and Earth require some explanation, as they are not the same here as in Judeo-Christian thought. Heaven (tiān – the expanse above humans) is spoken of like a sphere of rarified influential patterns. Less defined than seasonal or climactic patterns, these are celestial patterns which describe universal tendencies and cycles on a grander scale. These are the natural laws of coexistence. Heaven thus contains information that can guide us on our path, as described in the Book of Changes. Earth (dì – soil + ancient funnel or washbasin) suggests a focusing of heaven’s rarified influences into more physical patterns – the seasons, weather patterns, and climates. These two words often appear together (tiāndì) as one whole-world influence (field of expression). Heavenly influences are associated with the eight winds, represented by the eight trigrams; earthly influences are associated with the five seasonal and climactic patterns, represented by the five phases. In keeping with the dào, tiāndì is in turn influenced by its inhabitants. Tiāndì may be thought of as the underlying canvas of co-creativity as well as the product of co-creativity. It holds tendencies which influence how emergence unfolds; and its properties are in turn affected by individual expression.
Yīn (44-6) hill + shade. The shady side of a hill.
Yáng (76-52) hill + bright. The sunny side of a hill.
Yīn and Yáng are relative to each other, rather than absolute forces, and serve to describe differences between things. (Yīn = dense, dark, feminine, passive; Yáng = rarified, light, masculine, active.) They also transform into each other; when yáng reaches its apex, it becomes yīn, and vice versa. The movement from yīn to yáng and back again is cyclical, and has five phases according to Chinese cosmology. Each phase is associated with a natural element. Water and Fire correspond to yīn and yáng at their extremes. Wood and Metal are the intermediate phases, yīn moving toward yáng and yáng moving toward yīn respectively. Earth (tǔ – dirt/land/ground, not dì) is the physical and gravitational center, providing a space-time point of focus for manifestation and transformation; it nurtures and supports expression.
Wǔxíng (1-3 with 41-5) five + step & stop. Five phases, also called five elements. The character for step & stop used here has the same meaning, though a different form, as the step & stop in the word dào. (The different form is due to its use in a composite. You’ll see the same for water when used separately, versus when used in composite form.) Each phase has its correspondences in nature, as well as in the individual. Each is associated with its own color, emotion, season, weather condition, etc. The ancients stress that only those who understand the metaphors of nature can understand how to heal the body’s landscape.
Shén (15-100) omen/revelation + extend/state. “Omen” is a composite: the sun, moon, and stars of heaven above that reveal truths. “Extend” in this case means these truths are extended down to all living things. Commonly translated as “spirit” or “soul.” (The body in TCM has many shén, each describing a different aspect of our rarified selves.) One could think of shén in general as that aspect of life, universe, and oneself which shows us our truth. It is cognitive knowing – the act of acquiring an idea – the process of perceiving. For this reason, many texts translate shén as “mind,” but this fails to convey the Daoist sense of the perception of one’s truth.
Jīng (70-72) rice/kernel + color of lush growth that burns red. The second part is a composite: a plant rising from the ground (new growth) + a red mineral inside a mine or furnace…together translated as “young” or the color “blue-green” (cyan). The red mineral is cinnabar, mercuric sulfide, the most prominent source of mercury on earth. Cinnabar is 86.2% mercury and 13.8% sulfur. It is found near volcanic rocks and hot springs. Mercury is easily obtained from cinnabar by heating the ore in a current of air and condensing the vapor. Mercury is the only common metal occurring as a liquid at room temperature, and has very high surface tension. It conducts electricity, easily forms amalgams with other metals, and is used with tin to silver mirrors. The ancient Chinese felt that cinnabar represented life itself because of its transformative properties. Jīng is called “essence” in medical texts, but may more accurately be called “transformative capacity” – the ability to alchemically alter existing matter into new forms. (The character for sperm = egg/seed + jīng.)
Qíng (70-70) heart + color of lush growth that burns red. Feelings, love, passion, situation, condition. (The pictograph for heart, showing a heart with three beats, is also translated as mind, feelings, center, and middle.) The character for “emotion” is literally feeling (qíng) that bites the heart. Almost all characters describing an emotion or psychological condition contain the pictograph for heart. As the character qíng suggests, the heart is where the transformation of thought and feeling occur. This is the mental/emotional equivalent to the alchemical transformation described by jīng.
Shén, qì, and jīng are called the Three Treasures. They represent a continuum of manifestation in process, from the most rarified patterns of perceivable truth, to fluxing cloud-like energy/matter, to physical matter alchemically transforming. In the inner alchemy meditation, body movement, and breathing practices, keeping the One is the rhythmical mutation of these three to achieve personal transformation. The adept increasingly refines himself into pure shén, qì, and jīng, and finally into the dào itself. Conversely, outer alchemy is the use of medicinal herbs and diets to promote physical health and longevity.
Along with the Three Treasures, there are two other body “substances” discussed in Chinese medical literature: blood (xuè – vase containing sacrificial blood) and two types of fluids (jīn – water flowing like ink from a pen; yè – water condensing at night). Blood nourishes and maintains the body, and has some moistening functions. The fluids are the primary moistening substances.
Blood is formed from food and air: the stomach ripens food, the spleen distills it and then transports that essence to the lungs, and the lungs add clear air. Nutritive qì combines the essence and air to form blood in the heart. Blood is thus a liquid mixture containing the essence of all aspects of co-creation – heavenly influences, earthly influences, and individual and collective manifestations. And because blood is liquid, with properties like water, it is immediately transformable. The qì of the heart and chest propel the blood through the body. The heart is said to rule the blood, the liver stores the blood, and the spleen governs the blood.
Jīn are lighter fluids, said to flow under and moisten the skin and muscles. Yè are heavier fluids, called the stream that does not move (possibly joint fluid and cerebrospinal fluid). Both maintain the health of the body’s various membranes, and assist qì flow along those membranes. The fluids are also said to follow the membranes into the bones, to moisten the marrow. Physiologically, the properties of membranes do indeed depend on adequate moisture for their pliability and conductance.
Mìng (44-39) three lines (many/gather/union) + mouth + official seal (seal/section/part). Union + seal together is translated as decree, or, to make/cause. “Verbal decree.” Order, command, life, destiny. In Daoist literature, mìng is translated as destiny, but not fate. Destiny is thought of as the wind from heaven which carries us toward our inner nature (dé).
Mìngmén (44-39 with 78-17) destiny + double-leafed door. Gate of life/destiny (GV-4, an acupuncture point where the source of the body’s qì is rooted). Ames and Hall discuss the importance of gateways in Daoism: “The swinging gateway – opening and then closing – is where and when dào spontaneously ‘opens out’ to provide creativity a space through which to make its ‘entrance,’ qualifying the processive nature of dào with the immediacy and specificity of the creative act.”
“These two – the nameless and what is named – emerge from the same source
yet are referred to differently.
Together they are called obscure.
The obscurest of the obscure,
They are the swinging gateway of the manifold mysteries.”
(Dao De Jing, translation by Ames and Hall)
Míng (80-2) sun + moon (early form shows window + moon). Bright, light, clear, evident, to understand, to know. Shén and míng (truth revealed/acquired and truth understood) are interrelated in the same way as tiān and dì, and yáng and yīn. Continuing from The Great One Gives Birth to the Waters, tiān and dì collaterally assist each other to produce shén and míng, which then collaterally assist each other to produce yáng and yīn, which again assist each other to produce the four seasons. (From those come hot and cold, dry and moist, and finally the yearly cycle.)
Míng (72-9) evening/dusk + mouth. Name. At dusk one must call out a name for identification. Naming calls forth individual manifestation from primordial oneness. In the Dao De Jing, things and events can be named, but not the dào. The word dào is at best a zì (55-2) children under a roof. Ancient meaning = love, care for. Modern usage = character, logograph, letter. It implies having a “feeling” for the dào. From Ames and Hall, “Beyond the cognitive understanding of experience, there is the epistemology of caring. We know things most immediately and profoundly through empathic feeling.” The closest dào comes to receiving a name in the Dao De Jing is to call it “grand.”
Wúwèi (31-117 with 171-1) a person dancing (without, not) + a female monkey (do, serve as, act as, be, become). Literally, not-doing, but in Daoism, this means acting without desiring a specific outcome, and without the interference of habit. This kind of doing is effortless and harmonious. “Noncoercive action that is in accordance with the dé of things” (Ames and Hall). “Sages…mirror the world, and ‘neither see things off nor go out to meet them.’ As such, they ‘respond to everything without storing anything up.’ They mirror the world at each moment in a way that is undetermined by the shape of a world that has passed away, or by anticipations of a world yet to come.” This same understanding of wú can be applied to naming (wúmíng), knowing (wúzhī), and every other activity (including practicing medicine).
Yuán (11-13) top of a person. Head, primary, original, source. Yuán qì is the first manifest qì in the body, and is the source of the other types mentioned above.
Líng (161-8) raindrops falling through a cloud + three mouths + shamans working. The character for mouth can also be translated as speak, entrance, and opening. This composite suggests the ability to summon rain by doing spiritual work. It has various translations, including “spiritual,” “numinous,” “transcendent,” and “efficacious.” In Japanese kanji, it is the character “Rei” in Reiki (a healing method begun by Mikao Usui in the early 1900s from Daoism and Tendai Buddhism). And ki is qì, so reiki is língqì.
Kristofer Schipper (The Taoist Body) calls líng “spiritual power,” something which lies within each person and becomes manifest as one becomes perfected through personal spiritual work. Lonny Jarrett (Nourishing Destiny) describes it as that power of the healer to awaken the highest in others, just by her mere presence even before any medicine is begun. Líng holds a very important place in the ancient writings, but is not mentioned in modern medical texts (apparently due to Communist influence).
Jīng (2-5) threads twisted together (fine thread) + water course. Threads following a course. The warp of a fabric; to pass through, to experience; scriptures (as in the Dào Dé Jīng). In medicine, jīng refers to the acupuncture meridians which are the courses of qì flow through the body.
