Oriental Health Aesthetics: The Time of Professor Qiu Zhenglun’s Explanation of the Book of Changes(6)

I will focus on just two points. First: the Supreme Ultimate (Tai Chi)  is the One Stroke.Understand this. The Supreme Ultimate is the One Stroke. Although later, in the Song Dynasty, they elaborated with “the Limitless (Wu Ji) gives rise to the Supreme Ultimate (Tai Ji),” this distinction is ultimately meaningless. In essence, Tai Ji and Wu Ji signify the same concept. This One Stroke is writing – it is the fundamental mode of Chinese expression. This One Stroke is profoundly significant! Once you truly grasp this One Stroke, everything else follows.

Because the Eastern mode of expression is this One Stroke. It signifies the opening of heaven and earth, the great division that shapes human existence. “One Stroke opens heaven and earth” means the Supreme Ultimate gives rise to Yin and Yang. Yin and Yang give rise to the Two Forms (Liang Yi). The Two Forms give rise to the Four Images (Si Xiang). The Four Images give rise to the Eight Trigrams (Ba Gua). The Eight Trigrams determine fortune and misfortune (Ji Xiong). Fortune and misfortune give rise to the Great Enterprise (Da Ye).

Did you notice the verb used throughout? It’s exclusively “gives rise to” (生, shēng – to generate, to produce, to bring forth). Isn’t it? Absolutely not like how we speak today: “The Supreme Ultimate forges Yin and Yang. Yin and Yang forge the Two Forms. The Two Forms forge the Four Images. The Four Images forge the Eight Trigrams. The Eight Trigrams forge fortune and misfortune. Fortune and misfortune forge the Great Enterprise.” Do we hear it used like that? This is modern usage – constantly “forging” or “fabricating” (打造, dǎzào). I am deeply wary of this term.

Because what does “forging” imply? I’m from Sichuan. It means grabbing a hammer and a chisel, clanging away to shape something by force. This process is invariably impatient, utilitarian, and even tainted with violence. See? If I “forge” this piece of small regular script (xiaokai) today, the result would be mere craftsmanship – devoid of life. Anything “forged” becomes a mere project, like catching runoff water from the eaves. It inherently involves force, lacking tenderness or care.

Culture needs excavation. It needs excavation! We must find the seed of culture. We must find the root of culture. We must find the originating point of culture. This requires patience, nurturing, watering, and cultivation.

Consider the phrase “education” (教育, jiàoyù). In a sense, today we only use the “教” (jiào – to teach, to instruct). See? “教” is imparting knowledge, an external “pouring in.” But what is “育” (yù – to nurture, to foster)?  Why is a teacher eternally likened to a gardener? A gardener’s work is precisely about tender care, watering, and cultivation.