XLII. The Conclusion of This First Reading: Becoming Human Anew from the Place of Ease and Simplicity

If one must draw the nearest, most concrete conclusion from this first reading, it may be said: first lead oneself back from complex private intention into ease and simplicity. The Way of Heaven is vast, and yet it does not deceive; the completion of things by Earth is abundant, and yet it does not disturb. Many of a person's difficulties, though they certainly have outward circumstances, are also so often caused by inner curiosity, love of fame, and love of profit twisting into complication matters that were originally knowable and doable.

Serving one's parents should begin with reverence and love; making friends should begin with sincerity and trustworthiness; learning should begin with today's single chapter, single sentence, single act, single practice; holding office should begin with name and actuality corresponding, and completing what has been entrusted; governing the multitude should begin with not harming the people's time, not exhausting the people's strength, and reward and punishment being trustworthy. None of this dazzles, and yet it is precisely what is easy to know and easy to follow. If one does not do what is near at hand, seeking only some world-astonishing feat, Qian's beginning has no Kun to complete it; if one does only trivial tasks without asking after the direction of benevolence and righteousness, Kun's doing has no Qian to know it.

Nor does ease and simplicity make a person naive. It knows that groups and kinds have the upright and the deviant, and that fortune and misfortune will arise; it knows that thunder and lightning cannot be dispensed with, and that firm decisiveness cannot be lacking; it knows that human feeling and worldly configuration stir one another, and must be clearly discerned. It is only that all this discernment must, in the end, return to the correct and great root, rather than becoming infatuated with cleverness. Only one who can look upon complexity without losing simplicity, and face change without losing constancy, has truly matured.

For one who occupies a high position, ease and simplicity mean that governmental decree can be known, responsibility can be followed, intention is not deceptive, and achievement is attributed to the multitude. For one who occupies a lower position, ease and simplicity mean fulfilling one's duty without carelessness, holding to righteousness without flattery, knowing the time to advance or withdraw, and accomplishing things through actual work. High and low each have their own responsibility, and neither may demand only from the other. Heaven and Earth taking their places makes responsibility clear; Qian and Kun completing each other makes both sides need one another.

For one who studies the Yi, ease and simplicity mean not turning the images of the hexagrams into capital for showing off mystery. Observing image is meant to know time and position; discerning fortune and misfortune is meant to cultivate virtuous conduct; understanding change is meant to accomplish an undertaking. If, after consulting the oracle, one evades responsibility all the more, what one has learned runs contrary to this very chapter; if, through the image of a hexagram, one reflects on one's own firmness and yielding, closeness and distance, beginning and end, advance and withdrawal, then even without fully knowing everything, one is already walking on the Way of ease.

Heaven is exalted, and yet does not proclaim itself; Earth is lowly, and yet does not abandon itself. Thunder and lightning shake, and yet do not maintain their awe forever; wind and rain moisten, and yet do not contend for credit. The sun and moon move, and yet never lose their proper measure; cold and heat alternate, and yet together complete the year. Qian sets forth the great beginning; Kun completes the myriad things. Ease on one side, simplicity on the other -- and the principle of all under Heaven lies within them. What the worthy person learns is nothing other than making his own heart and resolve upright and bright like Qian, making his own action deep and substantial like Kun, letting people draw close to one another through what can be known, and letting shared undertakings be accomplished through what can be followed.

When a person can ask after righteousness at the point of beginning, and exert full effort at the point of completion; when he does not shrink back at the time for movement, nor act rashly at the time for stillness; when he is not arrogant in high position, nor resentful in low position; when his firmness holds fast to something, and his yielding accommodates something; when what he draws close to is upright, and what he does bears merit; when he does not claim his achievement once accomplished, and does not change himself amid hardship -- then he is no longer standing outside Heaven and Earth discussing the Yi, but taking part in Qian and Kun with every breath, every word, and every deed.

"One's place is formed in the very midst of it" is therefore not merely an abstract exclamation at the end of the chapter, but an invitation never fully completed in a lifetime. Heaven and Earth have already taken their places, and yet a person's place must be achieved day after day. A single upright thought today is Qian's knowing of the great beginning; a single completed task today is Kun's bringing of things to completion; making oneself approachable to others through sincerity today, and accomplishing matters through simplicity today -- from here, virtue and achievement begin to sprout. Sustained without ceasing, broad enough to accommodate -- a person, between Heaven and Earth, gradually becomes a true human being.

This is only a first entry into Chapter One of the Upper Xici. The path taken here moves from Heaven and Earth taking their places toward virtue formed through ease and simplicity, focusing on showing how Qian and Kun descend from the great cosmic image into the daily practice of human relations. The meaning of this first chapter is vast, and can still be unfolded again and again through different paths -- time and position, ritual and music, governance, self-cultivation, image and number, knowing and doing. But whatever path one enters by again, one must not forget the root seen this time: distinction is followed by mutual completion; constancy is followed by the capacity for change; a beginning is followed by the need for completion; and virtue is followed by the achievement it forms. Heaven and Earth do not become human on a person's behalf, but they show a person the path by which becoming human can endure and grow great.