First Reading of Chapter One of the Upper Xici: Heaven and Earth Take Their Places, and Virtue Is Formed Through Ease and Simplicity
A close reading of Chapter One of the Upper Xici within the context of pre-Qin thought, moving through the layers of Heaven and Earth, Qian and Kun, the firm and the yielding, image and form, change, ease and simplicity, virtue and achievement, and the taking of one's place -- to see how the Yi runs through the Way of Heaven, the Way of Earth, and the Way of Man.

XXII. Why the Great Beginning Is Not Private Intention
A person, too, can initiate, but not every new thought deserves to be called a "great beginning." A stirring of private desire is also a beginning; a scheme of deception is also a beginning; yet neither can be equated with Qian's knowing of the great beginning. What makes Qian's beginning great is that it flows into the ceaseless generation of Heaven and Earth, and does not harm the myriad things for the sake of one's own private benefit. To judge whether a given beginning accords with the Way of Qian, one must see whether it can open a path to life for more living beings, whether it can withstand the test of time, and whether it can complete itself together with the Way of Kun.
The Master said, "Wishing to establish himself, he establishes others; wishing to reach his own goals, he helps others reach theirs" -- establishing oneself while at the same time considering the establishment of others already goes beyond private intention. If one seeks only one's own advancement, using the hardship of the multitude as a stepping-stone, then however vigorous and firm the momentum, it is not the virtue of Qian. Master Meng's distinction between the kingly Way and the way of the hegemon likewise hinges on the heart from which one initiates and the righteousness one carries out. One who practices benevolence through virtue begins from a heart that cannot bear to see others suffer; one who borrows benevolence through force begins from the pursuit of profit and fame. Outwardly, both may effectively hold alliances and covenants together, but their inward direction differs, and what each finally completes will differ in the end as well.
The Guanzi says that governing a state requires enriching the people -- when the people are rich, the state is easy to govern; when the people are poor, the state is difficult to govern. If one who governs, in planning the use of resources, takes only a full treasury as the beginning, disregarding the people's livelihood, he severs the state from its people. A true great beginning must take ruler and people, near and far, granary and field, agriculture and sericulture all into account together. True greatness lies not in scale that dazzles others, but in encompassing many relations and in what it completes being able to endure.
Mozi's advocacy of "loving all equally, benefiting one another mutually," and his criticism of "hating separately, harming one another mutually," also seeks to extend the beginning of action from the private household to the whole world. His specific proposals differ from the Confucian tradition, but his diagnosis that partiality leads to contention and plunder can be considered together with the "great beginning." If the beginning is calculated only from one's own household and one's own person, and everyone does likewise, the result will in the end be mutual harm. Only by extending oneself to others, so that benefit is not built upon harming others, does the beginning gain a public measure.
The Most High, meanwhile, warned that "all under Heaven is a sacred vessel, and cannot be forced." The more confident a person is in his own ability to shape the world through private cleverness, the more likely he is to harm the order things generate for themselves. The great beginning is not the boundless expansion of individual will, but a beginning that accords with the Way. One who truly knows how to begin first listens to the principle already manifest in Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things, and only then decides how to act; he does not regard himself as a sovereign creating being out of nothing. Though Qian's beginning is active, it still "knows" before it begins -- knowing the time, knowing the position, knowing what it must wait upon, only then can it set forth.
Hence the great beginning holds both courage and reverence together. Without courage, one may know what ought to be done and yet fail to act, and the opportunity will be lost; without reverence, one who acts on his own self-certainty will cause harm to the multitude. Courage keeps him from shrinking back out of difficulty; reverence keeps him from acting rashly out of mere strength. If Qian's vigor departs from reverence, it easily turns to overreach; if Qian's knowing departs from humility, it easily falls prey to private bias. A true great beginning is so often preceded by a deep and thorough self-restraint.