I. Not a Set of Names First, but Heaven and Earth Seen First

The opening of the Upper Xici does not begin with divination, nor with the milfoil stalks, nor with any single hexagram or line, nor does it first lay out the rites and institutions of human society. It first turns the human gaze toward what lies between Heaven and Earth: "Heaven is exalted, Earth is lowly; thus Qian and Kun are established." The weight of this sentence lies precisely in its refusal to hastily reduce the Yi to a mere technique. It first points out that what the Yi confronts is a world already manifest, already in motion, a world one may take part in but may not arbitrarily fabricate. A person looks up and sees Heaven, bends down and treads upon Earth, is born between the two, labors between the two; marriage and childbearing, sacrifice and warfare, covenant-making, advance and retreat, life and death -- all of it happens between the two. Heaven and Earth are not one item of knowledge among others; they are the prior condition within which all knowledge and all action can unfold at all.

Here, "exalted" and "lowly" are, first of all, above and below -- the most immediate experience a person has of standing between Heaven and Earth. Heaven is above, Earth is below; sun, moon, and stars move above, grasses, trees, birds, and beasts take form below; rain descends from above, the hundred grains grow from below. Standing within the pre-Qin context, one must not rush to read "exalted and lowly" merely as the high and low of human power, nor may one empty it into a bodiless conceptual game. It arises from an order seen by the eye and trodden by the body: what is above covers, what is below carries; what covers lets images hang down, what carries brings shapes to completion. The establishing of Qian and Kun is established precisely within this relation of mutual opposition and mutual completion. Qian is not a Qian suspended alone, apart from Kun; nor is Kun a Kun self-sufficient, apart from Qian. Without Earth, Heaven's bestowing has nothing to complete it; without Heaven, Earth's generating has nothing to open it. Because the two are distinct, they can stand opposite one another; because the two need one another, they can complete one another.

The Book of Songs (Shijing) says, "Heaven gave birth to the multitudes of people; for every thing there is its norm," joining generation and norm together. The generation of a thing is not an indiscriminate jumble; where there is a thing, there is its norm, and where there is a norm, there is an order that can be followed. The Book of Documents (Shangshu) stresses "reverence for Heaven" and "according with the seasons," and this too is not a summons to flee toward some wholly unapproachable realm, but a demand that in governance and in daily affairs one not go against the seasons of Heaven nor harm the people's livelihood. The Master said, "What does Heaven ever say$1 The four seasons proceed, the hundred creatures are born" -- what makes Heaven worthy of reverence is not much speech, but that the four seasons do not err and the hundred creatures are nurtured together. Looking back from this at "Heaven is exalted, Earth is lowly," the exalted is no empty title, and the lowly no name of disgrace. The exalted one presides through its brightness and clarity; the lowly one bears all through its breadth and depth. Brightness-and-clarity and breadth-and-depth each have their own virtue, and neither can take the other's place.

The Yi takes Qian and Kun as its gateway precisely because every human situation lies between initiating and completing, between setting forth and bringing to fruition, between vigorous motion and generous bearing. A thought about to act is the direction of Qian; a matter brought to completion is the function of Kun. The issuing of a governmental command is a beginning; whether the people find peace in their dwellings and give their utmost strength is completion. The sprouting of a virtuous intention is a beginning; whether it accumulates through daily practice and reaches into human relations is completion. To know only how to initiate without being able to bring to completion is forever mere empty sound; to know only how to receive without direction easily falls into mere habit. Once Qian and Kun are established, this does not nail the world down into two fixed blocks, but rather gives the myriad affairs and things two visible poles, a fundamental measure by which to go forth and return, to open and to close.

Thus what this opening establishes is not a rigid schema, but an upright posture for viewing the world: first acknowledge Heaven and Earth, then settle human affairs; first see the differences, then understand mutual completion; first revere the order that already exists, then discuss what one may do within it. What the Most High (Laozi) said -- "Man models himself on Earth, Earth models itself on Heaven, Heaven models itself on the Dao, the Dao models itself on what-is-so-of-itself (ziran)" -- rises level by level, and it too begins with man not placing himself first. If a person takes his own likes and dislikes as the measure of Heaven and Earth, he cannot possibly know Qian and Kun; only if a person is willing to set aside private intent and observe the motion of Heaven and the generation of Earth can he see the Dao through images and know transformation through forms. The four opening characters are no ornament; they lift a person out of narrow calculation, so that he may first possess the measure of Heaven and Earth.