II. The "Establishing" of Qian and Kun Is the Fixing of a Relation, Not the Cessation of Change

The "establishing" (ding) in "thus Qian and Kun are established" is easily mistaken for stillness. Yet the very next lines speak of movement and stillness, the firm and the yielding, gathering and dividing, fortune and misfortune, image and shape, change -- and go on to speak of rubbing together, stirring one another, thunder and lightning, wind and rain, sun and moon, cold and heat. Nowhere in the whole chapter is there any sense of stagnation. Here, "established" means that names and roles can be set up, that the two poles can be distinguished, that change has something from which to proceed. For instance, only once east and west are fixed can a traveler go and return; only once above and below are made clear can rising and descending be spoken of; only once spring and autumn have their order do growth and decay not fall into confusion. Without a fundamental orientation, change is mere turbulent confusion; with a fundamental orientation, the ten thousand transformations appear as an orderly flow.

The fixing of Qian and Kun also keeps the changes of the hexagrams and lines from becoming arbitrary reversals. Qian is vigor; Kun is compliance. Vigor is not mere headlong forcing forward; compliance is not mere bending and submission. Vigor is vigor precisely because it is unceasing yet in accord with the times; compliance is compliance precisely because it receives and thereby brings things to completion. When Qian's motion reaches the point where it ought to stop, it too must know how to stop; when Kun's compliance reaches the juncture where it ought to issue forth, it too can generate. To understand Qian and Kun as two frozen temperaments is to lose sight of what the Yi values most: timeliness (shi). The virtue of Qian, across the different situations of its hexagram and line positions, is at times hidden, at times manifest, at times wary, at times leaping, at times soaring, at times overreaching -- one and the same vigorous Way takes different forms according to time and position. The virtue of Kun likewise has the warning of treading on frost, the constancy of the straight and the square, the beauty of holding brilliance within, the caution of the tied sack, and the moderation of the yellow lower garment. To fix the Way is not to fix its every track; precisely because the Way has what is fixed within it, its tracks can follow the moment without losing their correctness.

The Doctrine of the Mean (Zhongyong) says, "The Way of Heaven and Earth may be told in a single sentence: it is a thing without duality, and so its generating of things is unfathomable." What is called "without duality" is sincerity and oneness, is not self-deceiving, is each thing fully realizing its own Way; what is called "unfathomable" is generation and transformation without end, not to be exhausted by any finite preconception. Fixity and change are not in conflict here. The virtue of Qian and Kun has its constancy, and so the four seasons can go and return; the four seasons go and return without cease, and so the myriad things can each fulfill their own life. If the seasons of Heaven had no constancy at all, farming would have no basis on which to flourish; if the nature of Earth received nothing at all, planting would have no basis on which to succeed. Precisely because there is a constancy one can rely upon, a person can make judgments within change.

The Guanzi repeatedly stresses the timeliness of Heaven, the advantages of terrain, and harmony among people; governing a state, waging war, filling the granaries, and tending fields and mulberry trees can none of them depart from time and place. What is made manifest here is likewise the real meaning of "fixity." The seasons of Heaven are not commanded into being by human beings, nor is the lay of the land altered by mere words. One skilled at governance must discern whether the year is abundant or lean, examine what the soil is suited for, and know what the people's strength can bear and what would exhaust it. So-called purposeful action is not acting however one pleases, but acting in accordance with what is fixed, so as to bring to completion what can be completed. Water flows downward, fire blazes upward, grasses and trees flourish and wither with the seasons, the people pursue benefit and avoid harm -- these constant tendencies do not shackle wisdom; they are precisely the ground on which wisdom exerts its effort. To depart from the nature and tendency of things and force one's will through by wishing alone is to go against what is fixed.

The Sunzi says that troops have no constant configuration, water has no constant shape; and it illustrates the marvel of change by how water follows the terrain to shape its flow, and troops follow the enemy to shape their victory. Yet having no constant shape does not mean having nothing fixed at all. That water flows downward, avoiding the high and following the low, is its constancy; that it bends or straightens, slows or quickens according to the terrain, is its change. That troops take victory as their measure, taking the enemy's situation and the lay of the land as their basis, is their constancy; that the deployment of formations, advance and retreat, cannot be nailed down in advance, is their change. From this one can see that what pre-Qin thought calls the study of change is by no means a praise of capriciousness, but a search for what is fitting between constancy and change. The fixing of Qian and Kun is precisely what establishes the root for change; the manifesting of change is precisely the Way of Qian and Kun brought into function among the myriad things.

Human virtuous conduct is likewise so. If trustworthiness (xin) had no constancy, it would not be trustworthiness at all; if righteousness (yi) shifted with private desire, it would not be righteousness at all. And yet keeping one's word cannot but examine the matter one has given one's word to, and carrying out righteousness cannot but weigh the time in which one is placed. Master Meng (Mencius) said of the great man that "his words need not always be kept, his deeds need not always be carried through -- only righteousness is where he stands," not casting aside trustworthiness and follow-through lightly, but refusing to place outward trace above righteousness. Righteousness is what is fixed; weighing (quan) is what changes. Without righteousness, weighing degenerates into mere cleverness; without knowing how to weigh, keeping righteousness may itself turn into rigid clinging. What the fixing of Qian and Kun teaches a person is precisely this: first establish what is great, and only then make one's way through its changes.