Chrysanthemums in Golden Bloom: The Reversal at the Extremity of Decline and the Hermit's Integrity in the Cold Dew Solar Term
This article offers a deeply layered reading of Cold Dew (Hanlu) from the perspectives of pre-Qin Confucian and Daoist philosophy, the original meanings of Chinese characters, astronomy and phenology, and the Double Ninth chrysanthemum festival. It examines the gradual shift of dew from 'white' to 'cold,' the principle of reversal at the extremity of decline embodied in the Bo hexagram's five yin lines stripping away yang yet preserving the 'great fruit uneaten,' the gentleman's integrity symbolized by chrysanthemums defying autumn frost, and the ritual propriety of wild geese arriving as guests — revealing the hidden seed of renewal concealed within the stripping away of yang.
Chapter Six: The Daoist Perspective -- Rise and Fall as Natural Process, Storing in the Face of Death
I. "Reversal Is the Movement of the Dao": Stripping as the Dao's Mode of Operation
If the Confucians face Cold Dew's stripping with deep concern and steadfast integrity, the Daoists exhibit a more transcendent, more thoroughgoing attitude -- they view stripping as a natural phase of the Dao's operation, occasioning neither joy nor sorrow.
The Most High (Laozi) spoke a statement of paramount importance: "Reversal is the movement of the Dao; weakness is the function of the Dao." (Daodejing, Chapter 40) The Dao's movement is always toward the opposite -- fullness turns to emptiness, decline turns to flourishing, yin at its extreme generates yang. This accords entirely with the Bo hexagram's "reversal at the extremity of decline." In the Daoist view, Cold Dew's stripping is not a calamity to bewail but simply the natural manifestation of "reversal is the movement of the Dao."
II. "Attain the Utmost of Emptiness, Guard the Deepest Stillness": Returning to the Root amid Stripping
Facing Cold Dew's stripping and severity, the Daoist cultivation practice is "attaining emptiness and guarding stillness." The Most High says:
"Attain the utmost of emptiness; guard the deepest stillness. The myriad things rise together; I observe their return. Things flourish in profusion, yet each returns to its root. Returning to the root is called stillness; stillness is called returning to one's destiny; returning to one's destiny is called the constant; knowing the constant is called illumination. Not knowing the constant, one acts recklessly, and recklessness leads to misfortune." (Daodejing, Chapter 16)
This passage reads almost as if written for Cold Dew. At Cold Dew, all things are "returning to their roots" -- the vitality of grasses and trees retreats to the roots, leaves fall and return to the earth. The Daoist stance before this spectacle is to "observe the return" (guan fu) -- quietly observing this process of returning.
Why is Cold Dew's "return to the root" so important for Daoism$29 Because "returning to the root is called stillness, stillness is called returning to one's destiny." All things returning to their roots, subsiding into stillness, is the process of returning to life's source. In the Daoist view, Cold Dew's stripping, withering, and contracting is precisely the beginning of all things "returning to destiny" -- they are shedding summer's luxuriant, clamorous shell and returning to the quiet, authentic source of life deep in the roots. This is not death but homecoming; not extinction but returning to the root.
III. "Know the Male, Keep to the Female": The Wisdom of Guarding the Feminine in the Season of Stripping
The Most High says:
"Know the male, keep to the female, and be the valley of the world. Being the valley of the world, the constant virtue does not depart, and one returns to the state of the infant." (Daodejing, Chapter 28)
Why does Daoism advocate "guarding the feminine"$30 Because in the Daoist view, the yielding overcomes the firm, the humble overcomes the exalted. "Nothing in the world is softer or weaker than water, yet nothing surpasses it in attacking the hard and strong." (Daodejing, Chapter 78) At Cold Dew, when yin qi ascends and yang qi retreats, the Daoist does not insist on upholding yang's firmness as the Confucian does, but advocates conforming to the season's yin ascendancy by "guarding the feminine" -- willingly occupying the yielding, humble, withdrawn position. This is not weakness but profound wisdom.
IV. Storing toward Death: Master Zhuang's Wisdom of Life and Death
Cold Dew's stripping and withering ultimately point to the ultimate question no living being can avoid -- death. Autumn's universal withering is a grand rehearsal of death enacted by heaven and earth. Facing death, the Daoists possessed the most clear-sighted, most thoroughgoing wisdom among all the pre-Qin masters, and this wisdom reached its fullest expression in Master Zhuang.
Master Zhuang held that life and death are simply the gathering and scattering of qi, different forms within a single great transformation. The Zhuangzi ("Knowledge Wanders North") says: "The life of a person is the gathering of qi. Gathered, it is life; scattered, it is death... Therefore it is said: all under heaven is but a single qi."
Precisely because he had seen through to the truth that life and death are merely the gathering and scattering of qi, Master Zhuang could "drum on a basin and sing" when his wife died (Zhuangzi, "Supreme Happiness"). He said to Huizi: "Examine the beginning, and originally there was no life; not only no life, but originally no form; not only no form, but originally no qi... Now she has changed again and gone to death. This is to accompany the procession of spring, autumn, winter, and summer."
Note his metaphor -- he directly compared human life and death to the "procession of the four seasons"! Life is like spring's generating and summer's growing; death is like autumn's gathering and winter's storing. Death, in Master Zhuang's eyes, is merely life's qi contracting and going into hiding, as in autumn and winter. This is the wisdom of "storing in the face of death" (xiang si er cang): death is not annihilation but storage; not ending but returning to the "one qi" that gives birth to all things, quietly awaiting the next gathering and renewal.