Yíng
The Way of the loose-haired chieftain—walking a while, stopping a while, listening, and speaking of it all:
pouring water from the center, like from the hollow drum at the base of the flagpole,
and yet now, bearded… (ér, 而)
doing of truly useful work—like a water bucket—by means of carrying-capacity
has this…
this particular territory—this enclave, defended by a weapon on a pole, plus its surroundings:
the husk of the initial protective bud casing—the sepal—but not really the true inner flower of (bù, 不)
full to overflowing its vessel. (yíng (沖)
As you remember, I’m exploring the idea that the Dào part of the Dào Dé Jīng follows Joseph Campbell’s story template. If so, then Chapter 4 would give us the hero’s “call to adventure.” And I do think it opens straight away with that call. It’s a call to The Way of the loose-haired chieftain—walking a while, stopping a while, listening, and speaking of it all. And it specifically calls for this:
Pouring water from the center of one’s “hollow drum” and yet, now bearded, do truly useful work like a water bucket… not really overflowing one’s vessel.
That is indeed quite a calling.
~
Yíng (沖)’s bronze inscription looks like this:
You recognize the sub-component on the right side of that image from this post where we learned it’s a picture of a drum with a flagpole. This kind of structure was traditionally placed in the middle of a field to call people to gather with drumming, provide a center point for that gathering, as well as detect wind and serve to foster group-identity and morale. The left sub-component shuî is the pictogram for a river or running water:
(And yes, that’s the same shuî from “Feng shui!”)
Modern definitions of the complete character yíng (沖) are to pour water on; to rinse; to flush; to wash; to infuse; to make drinks. More classic definitions included to soar; to rise; to shoot up. Dào translators have gone a different way. They translate it as like an empty bowl, appears empty, is an empty vessel, is like a well, is unimpeded harmony. I combine the images with the traditional definitions and translate it as:
pouring water from the center, like from the hollow drum at the base of the flagpole
This is the only place in the first 37 chapters of the Dào Dé Jīng that this word appears.
~
But the next part of “the call” is familiar to us from earlier in the Dào since we discussed this character here. Doing of truly useful work—like a water bucket—by means of carrying capacity is one of several different ways Lâozî describes work or getting things done. In this kind of work, something or someone uses their receptivity or negative space’s carrying capacity (as opposed to laboring forcefully, actively shaping something, etc.).
So, on The Way, the loose-haired chieftain is pouring water from their hollow drum and yet, “bearded” something else is also happening now. They’re doing this water-bucket-style-work WHILE not really overflowing their vessel.
No wonder the next line interjects:
The deep water—Oh! A breath, like wind through the tree branches!
Because that’s a tall order as well as a pleasantly puzzling paradox to consider.
Have you ever poured water from your hollow drum? In a literal sense, it reminds me more of having your water break during pregnancy than it does urinating… probably because I definitely looked like a drum when I was pregnant!
In a symbolic sense, water might mean lots of things. Carl Jung thought water was one of the few universal symbols—he believed it symbolized the unconscious. Considering the words that follow this phrase, Lâozî indeed could be alluding to how we work with the unconscious in our life. On the other hand, since Lâozî’s taking great care to describe the particular type of work that’s best described with the image of a bucket, the water may be a stand-in for whatever we may be working with at any given time.
No matter which of those meanings we adapt, what does it mean to have the water pour out of us but now, bearded, to do that useful, carrying-capacity kind of work while not really overflowing?
~
Here, I find myself wanting to go back and investigate that bearded character. As you remember, we looked at ér (而) in a previous post. Its most common translations are something like “and yet, now.” Its original glyph was a drawing of a beard:
A beard is a good image for trying to illustrate the concept that some original situation is yet existing (i.e., the unshaven face is yet there under the beard), and at the same time, now there’s a new situation. You can see how it also gets translated as but or but now because a change in the situation is apparently an important part of the word’s meaning. BUT (ha!) you can also see how neither’s exactly the same as saying “yet.” Yet is also a translation of this character, and it more closely matches the glyph. So do whereas and while.
Let’s think more specifically about the glyph image itself. What do we know about a beard? It’s is a sign of manhood. And it’s something that changes the look of a face even while the face is still under there—for that reason, it’s always been a popular disguise.
The other character Lâozî uses to impart a meaning akin to “but” is also in this first sentence of Chapter 4: bù (不). We talked about it here when we were looking at all the “negative particles” in the Dào Dé Jīng. It’s in fact the most common negative particle in the Dào.
From what I can find, ér isn’t talked about as a common negative particle in Classical Chinese (despite that fact, I do find versions of some historical documents from the 4th century translating ér as “and yet” ). Rather, when I re-examine information about this character, I see its “literary” translation is you or your. I’m not sure how I missed this before. Maybe because I didn’t know at first that the literary meaning usually corresponds to the older historical meaning for a word.
Interesting! A beard as a symbol for you… and also as a symbol for and yet now. I think I’ll modify my translation to include this information! Ér (而) will now appear as:
“and yet now, bearded, you”
Okay, I have to disappear for a bit and see what happens when I make that change everywhere! While I do that, I hope you’ll sit with the call, just let IT flow from you, and yet now, bearded, do the water-bucket kind of work while not really overflowing—maybe just experience this concept without words. And I also hope you’ll let me know what you found. See you next time with the rest of Chapter 4 (and maybe more on the implications of this big change I just made?!)
The Dào of Lâozî 