Reconsidering the Term Dai 待 in Zhuangzi 莊子

Abstract

Developing from Laozi’s ideals of non-action and naturalness, the ultimate goal in Zhuangzi’s philosophy is a state of xiaoyao 逍遥 (free and easy). This is often also described with the Chinese term wudai 無待, variously understood to mean “not depend on anything”, “depend on the ten thousand things”, or “depend on Dao 道”. This confusing expression has sparked a long and considerable debate. However, upon revisiting the original text, it becomes evident that Zhuangzi’s key expression is not wudai but rather dai 待 (depend on). I argue that the crucial phrase bi qie wuhu dai zai 彼且惡乎待哉 (not depend on anything, or, what can you depend on?) cannot simply be glossed with wudai, as it often is, but instead hints at the way one can become free and easy. This statement entails two interconnected inquiries: what to depend on and how to depend on it. The answer to both relates to Heaven. It is what we must depend on and this “depending” on Heaven can be divided into internally depending on one’s own self-transformative nature and externally depending on one’s relationship with Heaven. How we properly depend on Heaven involves realizing an interdependent relationship with Heaven that is seemingly non-interdependent, something only made possible by our full participation in hua 化 (transformation).

1. Introduction

Laozi elevated Dao 道 from an ordinary word into a profound philosophical term, and the pursuit of attaining Dao emerged as the ultimate goal within Daoism. Nevertheless, Laozi’s notion of Dao is enigmatic and obscure. Zhuangzi subsequently evolved Laozi’s abstract Dao into the more relatable and concrete state of xiaoyao 逍遥 (free and easy). Thus, the nature of this xiaoyao and how to achieve it is the key issue of Zhuangzi’s philosophy. Entangled with this theory is the concept of dai 待 (depend on), which relates not only to the profound meaning of xiaoyao but also to any subject’s way of being in the world. However, after Guo Xiang 郭象 (252–312) first employed the two terms youdai 有待 (depend on something specific) and wudai 無待 (depend on everything; literally: depend on nothing) to reflect on this topic, related interpretive debates, including contemporary ones, almost exclusively have focused on the question of wudai. Dai as found in the original text rarely receives attention. This paper will first illustrate the undesirability of placing the term wudai at the center of this debate. It will then explain that the confusion around wudai is terminological and not conceptual and that, if we return to the Zhuangzi, we find that Guo Xiang’s interpretation is still best. Unfortunately, his unclear language has caused unnecessary confusion. Finally, by shifting our language from wudai back to the original dai, we will see more clearly that there are both internal and external objects of this ideal.

2. Returning to the Text: From Wudai to Dai

The terms youdai and wudai were first articulated by Guo Xiang, who believed that only wudai leads to being xiaoyao. As a result, scholars have engaged in many discussions around wudai. However, it is inadvisable to continue this discussion centered on wudai. Neither it nor its pair youdai appear in the Zhuangzi. Liu Xiaogan 劉笑敢 previously has noted this, and although the text occasionally employs the terms you and dai together, he argued it does not utilize them as a single philosophical concept. Liu explains, “Guo Xiang’s Annotations on Zhuangzi initially proposed youdai and wudai as philosophical concepts” (Liu 1981, p. 63). He further says:

We cannot take as their basic and principal point of view the tendency accidentally revealed by philosophers nor what is derived from later generations based on the ancients … Utilizing Guo Xiang’s dai and wudai to elucidate Zhuangzi’s philosophy oversimplifies its complexity and fails to capture its distinctive features, thus rendering it inadequate.

(Liu 1981, p. 64)

Thus, from the perspective of the original text, it is impossible to fully understand the ideal of xiaoyao with wudai.

The name wudai is also confusing; the term wu 無 has the basic meaning of “nothing”, and it is easy for scholars to mistakenly think that wudai refers to “depending on nothing”. Chung Wu, for one, suggests, “Zhuangzi hinted that we should get rid of dependency altogether” (Wu 2008, p. 28).1 This interpretation can lead to the view that true freedom is only possible outside the world,2 which not only negates the value of everything but also risks devolving into subjective fantasy.

Chen Yun 陳贇 has criticized this desire to escape reality and instead seek solace in a subjective psychological or spiritual existence. He argues that:

Within the phenomenal world governed by causal laws, we cannot exist in an abstract state of unpredictability that disregards relationships and conditions, such as our unalterable and inherent reliance on air for breathing and dependence on food. We must establish societal structures with others and live in certain patterns of relationships.

(Chen 2020, p. 270)

Similarly, Luo Xiangxiang 羅祥相 identifies a hidden danger of Guo Xiang’s wudai—it may lead to “false xiaoyao”. This so-called “false xiaoyao” means that, even in the face of a bad living situation, the follower will not reflect on it but only affirm it and then, by way of spiritual victory (self-deception), falsely think that they are mentally in a xiaoyao state (Luo 2021).3 This would mean that wudai, as proposed by Guo Xiang, allows even the worst living situation to become an object to depend on. In my opinion, Luo misunderstands Guo’s meaning.

The key to much confusion around Guo Xiang’s theory is his ambiguous term wudai. If we understand what he really means by wudai, it becomes clear his reading accords with Zhuangzi’s original intention. Guo employs wudai to mean depending on everything,4 because for him, wu (nothing, without) in the term wudai is not directly a negative but instead an inclusive, because no one thing is depended on. Youdai, the opposite of wudai, means to depend on something specific.5 Put another way, wudai means transcending one’s dependence on any particular thing; one is not bound by any single thing but can depend on anything, ensuring that no particular thing becomes a constraint. Wang Fuzhi 王夫之 (1619–1692) explains further:

When it is cold, wander in the cold. When it is hot, wander in the heat. Then you can ride and wander even on the great droughts and great floods … The village or country can be wandered in; inner, outer, praise, blame—all can be wandered in. The graceful wind can be wandered in, but the howling storm and the raging thunder, the scorching sun and the drenching rain can also be wandered in.

(Ziporyn 2009, p. 133)

The ability to depend on everything implies a state of unboundedness that enables one to infinitely wander free and easy (xiaoyao).

Although Guo’s unclear language has caused much confusion, his interpretation that the goal is to depend on everything remains desirable. In order to avoid being mired in distracting debates, this article will ignore the term wudai and return to Zhuangzi’s own words to see how Zhuangzi addresses this problem. Let us first consider the core passage on this topic from the “Free and Easy Wandering” chapter:

A man who has enough wisdom to fill an office effectively, conduct good enough to impress the community, virtue sufficient to please the ruler, or talent sufficient to be called into service in one state, has the same kind of self-pride as these little creatures. Song Rongzi certainly burst out laughing at such a man. The whole world could praise Song Rongzi and it wouldn’t make him exert himself; the whole would could condemn him and it wouldn’t make him mope. He drew a clear line between the internal and the external and recognized the boundaries of true glory and disgrace. But that was all. As far as the world went, he didn’t fret and worry, but there was still ground he left unturned.

Liezi could ride the wind and go soaring around with cool and breezy skill, but after fifteen days he came back to earth. As far as the search for good fortune went, he didn’t fret and worry. He escaped the trouble of walking, but he still had to depend on something to get around. If he has only mount on the truth of Heaven and Earth, ride the changes of six breaths, and thus wander through the boundless, then what would he have had to depend on? [bi qie wuhu dai zai 彼且惡乎待哉?] Therefore I say, the Perfect Man has no self; the Holy Man has no merit; the Sage has no fame.

(Watson 2013, p. 3)

The line bi qie wuhu dai zai 彼且惡乎待哉 (then what would he have had to depend on?) is what Guo Xiang aimed to explain by introducing the term wudai. As the original only includes the term dai, that should be the key focus when reading this passage. Thus, below I will explore how Zhuangzi addresses the issue of dai, leading to an awareness of the importance of dai-X (i.e., the object on which to depend).

3. The Meaning of Dai

Dai is mentioned 49 times in the Zhuangzi, and scholars have elucidated numerous meanings for these different dai, including dependence, anticipation, expectation, treatment, possession, and preservation. This article does not discuss the meaning of dai as a single Chinese character but, rather, explores its philosophical connotation as a categorical concept, specifically examining the relationship between dai and xiaoyao in the Zhuangzi. As dai in this context refers to “depend on”, it can be understood as a relational concept.

The idea of dai, as employed in the “Free and Easy Wandering” chapter cited above, is used to differentiate four levels of people: those who have the same kind of self-pride as little creatures, those like Song Rongzi, those like Liezi, and those who merge with Dao. Scholars unanimously agree that those like Liezi and the lower-level people all depend on something; they all belong in Guo Xiang’s category of youdai (depend on something specific). Above them, at the highest level, are those who mount on the truth of Heaven and Earth and ride the changes of six breaths. They are described with the sentence bi qie wuhu dai zai,6 and its interpretation is the crux of this debate.

Broadly speaking, scholars propose two distinct approaches to comprehend the essential line. As the first person to comment on Zhuangzi, Guo Xiang explained it with the term wudai which, for him, signified the ability to depend on anything. Christine Tan explains it as “a type of freedom that acknowledges the deep importance of dependence in being independent” (Tan 2023). However, Cheng Xuanying 成玄英 (ca. 601) offers a different traditional reading of the sentence. He uses yuhe 於何 (a rhetorical question implying a negative) to gloss wuhu 惡乎 (an interrogative pronoun or denial). Cheng Xuanying claims that “if one can wander in the infinite, how could [yuhe 於何] one possibly be dependent [youdai 有待]?” (Guo 2012, p. 23). According to this view, bi qie wuhu dai zai is interpreted as a rhetorical question. Thus, the passage is understood as follows: “If you have mounted the truth and ridden the changes of the six breaths, do you need anything to depend on? No!” In other words, it signifies not being dependent on anything. As previously mentioned, if the sentence is interpreted as “not depending on anything”, xiaoyao will inevitably retreat to a purely spiritual realm that rejects the real world and even subjective illusions. However, this interpretation not only lacks practicality but also deviates from Zhuangzi’s normal use of language. Considering how the word wuhu is used elsewhere in the Zhuangzi, bi qie wuhu dai zai should not be interpreted as depending on nothing.

In ancient Chinese, wuhu serves not only as a rhetorical word but also as an interrogative word, encompassing inquiries about objects and methods. Zhuangzi frequently employs wuhu in this way. For instance, “The understanding of the men of ancient times went a long way. How far did it go [wuhu zhi 惡乎至]? To the point where some of them believed that things have never existed—so far, to the end, where nothing can be added” (Watson 2013, pp. 11–12). In the “Discussion on Making All Things Equal” chapter, it also says, “When Gongwen Xuan saw the Commander of the Right, he was startled and said, ‘What kind of man is this? How did he come to lose his foot [wuhu jie ye 惡乎介也]? Was it Heaven? Or was it man?’” (Watson 2013, p. 20). In the “Secret of Caring for Life” chapter, it states, “Nanpo Zikui asked: ‘Where did you happen to hear this [zi du wuhu wen zhi 子獨惡乎聞之]?’” (Watson 2013, p. 47). Lastly, when glossing another appearance of wuhu in a passage from “the Great and Venerable Teacher” chapter, Wang Xianqian 王先謙 (1842–1917) uses the interrogative term heyi 何以 (how, what).7 This further confirms that in all these passages, the wuhu functions as a normal interrogative.

Other Pre-Qin texts further prove this is a historically defensible way to read wuhu. For example, in Mencius, we find, “‘May I presume to ask you, Master, in what do you excel [wuhu chang? 惡乎長]?’ Mencius told him, ‘I understand words. I am good at nourishing my vast, flowing qi’” (Bloom 2009, p. 30). Xunzi includes “Learning—where should it [wuhu] begin and where should it [wuhu] end? I say: its proper method is to start with the reiteration of the Classics and conclude with the reading of the Rituals” (Knoblock 1999, p. 13). The Book of Rites also says:

Bze-yû asked about the articles to be provided for the mourning rites, and the Master said, “They should be according to the means of the family”. Bze-yû urged, “How can [wuhu] a family that has means and one that has not have things done in the same way?” “Where there are means”, was the reply, “let there be no exceeding the prescribed rites”.

(Legge 1885, pp. 153–54)

These all are clear examples of wuhu being used to ask questions regarding objects or methods of action. They suggest that we should at least consider wuhu as an interrogative word. The result is that bi qie wuhu dai zai is most likely an expression that requests the reader to explore the conditions under which the highest state of mounting the truth of Heaven and Earth and riding the changes of the six breaths occurs. In other words, it is a question concerning the factors essential for reaching the supreme level.

Brook Ziporyn translates the passage and the aforementioned sentence in this way:

But suppose you were to chariot upon what is true both to Heaven and to earth, riding atop the back-and-forth of the six atmospheric breaths, so that your wandering could nowhere be brought to a halt. You would then be depending on—what?”

(Ziporyn 2020, p. 5)

Ziporyn then elsewhere offers his interpretation of this, stating:

The sentence “who does the sounding ultimately depend on?” in Discussion on Making All Things Equal and answers that it is the wuhu dai in Free and Easy Wandering, which means that “there is no time, no land, no matter, nothing does not depend on things”. Therefore, wuhu dai remains dependent, but it depends on the six breaths, which does not imply the absence of dependence or its reliance on a specific entity.

(Ziporyn et al. 2022)

Here, Ziporyn affirms the interrogative nature of wuhu as a question word, instead of a rhetorical word, and emphasizes that ultimate dependence pertains to an unknown object. However, he fails to recognize that Zhuangzi’s question encompasses not only the object on which one should depend but also the way one achieves it—specifically, the type of interdependence required to attain xiaoyao. Investigating both the object and mode of this dependence relationship is important for interpreting Zhuangzi, and these two inquiries serve as pivotal elements in achieving xiaoyao.

The intent of the “Free and Easy Wandering” passage is to inquire into what to depend on and how to depend on it so one can reach the state where one mounts on the truth of Heaven and Earth and ride the changes of six breaths. The focus of Zhuangzi’s consideration is not whether there is dependency—because the answer is obvious—but what is real dependency and how one achieves it. Similarly, Zhuangzi’s idea of “no self’ does not concern whether the self exists but instead implores us to ask: What is the real self?

4. Dai’s Object: Zihua and Tianshu

Based on the preceding discussion, I affirm that the term wuhu serves as an interrogative rather than rhetorical word, a conclusion that further necessitates exploring both the object of dai (dependence) and the way this dependence is used to attain xiaoyao. In this section, I will first discuss dai’s object, i.e., that on which we should depend. As this is depicted ambiguously in Zhuangzi’s writings, we must read carefully. Consider this famous passage:

Penumbra said to Shadow, “A little while ago you were walking, and now you’re standing still; a little while ago you were sitting, and now you’re standing up. Why this lack of independent action?”

(Watson 2013, pp. 17–18)

Zhuangzi affirms that there must be a mutual dependency between all things and, subsequently, scholars like Lai Xisan 賴錫三, Zhang Heping 張和平, and Huang Shengping 黃聖平 have concluded that this interdependent relationship is inescapable and essential.8 Accordingly, the dependency of dai serves as an essential prerequisite for attaining xiaoyao, a point repeatedly emphasized in the text through the use of the construction cheng-X 乘X (go along with/mount/ride-X)9. There are expressions such as “go along with things and let your mind move freely” (chengwu yi youxin 乘物以遊心), “rides the clouds and mist” (chengyunqi 乘雲氣), “ride on the Light-and-Lissome Bird” (chengfu mangmiao zhi niao 乘夫莽眇之鳥), “mount Heaven and Earth” (cheng tiandi 乘天地), “Climb up on the Way and its Virtue” (cheng daode 乘道德), and “ride on the sincerity of Heaven and Earth” (cheng tiandi zhi cheng 乘天地之誠).10 These things like clouds and mist or Heaven and Earth are necessary prerequisites for being xiaoyao; they cannot be eliminated. Zhuangzi, furthermore, associates all these clouds, birds, things, and Heaven and Earth with Dao, clearly stating that “Dao permeates all aspects of the ten thousand things”.11 On the one hand, not all things are considered proper objects for dependence; on the other hand, it is said that we depend on these mounted things that are all part of Dao. Thus, how to resolve this tension is unclear.

The perfect music in “The Turning of Heaven” chapter reveals some clues: “Perfect music … now dead, now alive, now flat on the ground, now up on its feet, its constancy is unending, yet there is nothing that can be counted on” (Watson 2013, p. 110). Zhuangzi refrains from directly providing the ultimate object of dependence; instead, he presents a situation wherein I depend on an object that, in turn, depends on another object, which inevitably leads to endless questioning. Zhuangzi answers this question with an infinite inquiry: the absence of a specific source or ultimate unmoving object on which to depend. There is only the process of transformation formed by the birth and death and rise and fall of all things. Consequently, depending on Dao implies a dependence on dahua 大化 (the changes of all things as one whole).

Zhuangzi argues that nature is an indivisible organism and that the basis for the organism’s complete self-sufficiency is Dao. As an organism, the world born out of Dao advances itself in a dynamically balanced manner. Under this cosmology of eternal movement, the objects to depend on can be divided into two parts: “the self-transformation of all things” (zihua 自化)12 and “together by Heaven” (tianshu 天屬) relationships that exist between all things. I summarize these two parts as being “internally dependent on the self-transformative nature of all things”13 and “externally dependent on together by Heaven relationships”.

Let us first consider the internally dependent aspect. “The Great and Venerable Teacher” chapter mentions Mr. Mengsun, who does not know why he should go ahead and does not know why he should fall behind. Zhuangzi describes him as follows:

In the process of change, he has become a thing [among other things], and he is merely waiting for some other change that he doesn’t yet know about. Moreover, when he is changing, how does he know that he really is changing? And, when he is not changing, how does he know that he hasn’t already changed?

(Watson 2013, p. 51)

People usually focus on their own body, naming it “self”. Yet, in this case, Mengsun’s body is shown only as a temporary object formed by the gathering of qi 氣 (energy), thus highlighting the inevitable changes in the human body and acknowledging that both life and death represent natural and great transformations.

In this scenario, it is imperative to follow the inherent transformations of all things themselves. Zhuangzi makes it very clear that self-transformation exists as a node in the great transformation of the universe’s self or dahua. Therefore, from the individual point of view, dependence is ultimately a dependence on the self. Mengsun embraces the profound transformations within his body; in essence, he fundamentally accepts all natural changes. Zhuangzi explicitly emphasizes that the process of self-transformation plays a pivotal role in dahua. As our own transformations are inseparable from those of others, it is imperative for each individual to embrace the transformation in others brought about by dahua. Consequently, from an individual perspective, dependence on dahua signifies dependence on a self-transformative nature.

Zhuangzi not only affirms a subject’s dependence on the natural transformation of all things but also the dependence on its own self-transformation and unique nature.

Mark what I say! In the case of the body, it is best to let it go along with things. In the case of the emotions, it is best to let them follow where they will. By going along with things, you avoid becoming separated from them. By letting the emotions follow as they will, you avoid fatigue. And when there is no separation or fatigue, then you need not seek any outward adornment or depend on the body. And when you no longer seek outward adornment or depend on the body, you have in fact ceased to depend on any material thing [gu bu dai wu 固不待物].

(Watson 2013, p. 162)

From the Three Dynasties on down, what a lot of fuss and hubbub they have made in the world! If we must use [dai] curve and plumb line, compass and square, to make something right, this means cutting away its inborn nature; if we must use [dai] cords and knots, glue and lacquer, to make something firm, this means violating its natural Virtue.

(Watson 2013, p. 61)

In the first example, which comes from “The Mountain Tree” chapter, Watson’s translation presents bu dai wu as “cease to depend on any material thing”. However, if bu dai wu is interpreted in this way, it means Zhuangzi is promoting pure spirituality and subjective fantasy. However, if people want to survive, they must rely on external material resources; people must depend on things like air. Therefore, in reality, it is impossible to abandon all things.

Luo Xiangxiang makes a distinction between things that can be depended on and those that cannot, indicating that “people can get rid of things that are useless to life” (Luo 2021). These useless things include wealth and fame, along with all man-made objects that deviate from human nature (i.e., unnatural things). The problem with Luo’s viewpoint is that to reject things that are “useless” still indicates at different kind of dependence, being “dependent on the non-existence of these things”. In other words, to be free and at ease depends on these useless things not existing. Ziporyn makes a similar point when he notes the following, “If one seeks ‘unconditionality,’ this is in fact precisely to be conditioned by and dependent on something, since what one seeks becomes something one is dependent on” (Ziporyn 2003, p. 89).

“The World” chapter reveals that Zhuangzi does not dismiss the concepts of right and wrong but embraces being xiaoyao amid a human world that includes such distinctions. So, in the phrase bu dai wu, the term bu 不 (not) does not negate wu 物 (thing) but, rather, dai. Zhuangzi rejects the negative relationship of a dependence on extrinsic things but not extrinsic things themselves. Chen Guying 陳鼓應 and Xu Fuguan 徐復觀 refer to this interdependent relationship as bondage or the involvement of external forces. Chen Guying claims that “youdai means to be constrained, leading to a lack of spiritual autonomy, thereby hindering the attainment of inner peace” (Chen 2009, p. 20). Xu Fuguan explicitly states that “the reason humans are oppressed and not free is that they cannot maintain control over themselves but rather are entangled with external forces, which subsequently impose restrictions or even dominance upon them” (Xu 1993, p. 309). Zhuangzi severed the negative dependence of his own nature on external things, not to negate the existence of these things but to eradicate their infringement upon his intrinsic nature and maintain his self-sufficiency and resilience. This independence aims not to escape or avoid things but to properly engage with and respond to them. There are always types of fame and fortune in this world; the xiaoyao state means you have nothing to do with these things, although they continue to exist, because whether or not you have them becomes inconsequential. The real way to be unconstrained is to not grasp or refuse. When things come, we respond to them; when things do not, we do not seek them. Behaving in this way, fame and other artificial things no longer affect our nature. In the face of all temptations, the heart remains undisturbed and at peace.

When the subject is no longer dependent on artificial and unnatural things, it becomes an independent subject that is not confused by external things and is self-sufficient in its nature. The remarkable potential of this detached attitude is shown in the case where the little bird laughs at the giant Peng bird flying so high. The little bird is confined within its inherent nature and, so, cannot fly high. This implies it is restricted to living within its own natural environment and cannot access the boundless Dao. I describe this as wandering in one’s internal nature but not connecting to the whole external world. The real xiaoyao does not mean rejecting the world or things; it involves holding to one’s own nature and, at the same time, being open to everything in the external world.

Having described what I term “internal dependence” (neidai 内待), where we depend on our inner nature, I will now deal with the mutual interconnection of all things enabled by being open to each other. I call this “external dependence” (waidai 外待). The “Imputed Words” chapter elucidates this inherent interdependence among all things by exploring the correlation between the Penumbra and the Shadow:

Penumbra said to Shadow, “A little while ago you were looking down, and now you’re looking up; a little while ago your hair was bound up, and now it’s hanging loose; a little while ago you were sitting, and now you’re standing up; a little while ago you were walking, and now you’re still—why is this?” Shadow said, “Quibble, quibble! Why bother asking about such things? I do them, but I don’t know why. I’m the shell of the cicada, the skin of the snake—something that seems to be but isn’t. In firelight or sunlight, I draw together; in darkness or night, I disappear. But do you suppose I have to wait around for those things? (And how much less so in the case of that which waits for nothing!) If those things come, then I come with them; if they go, then I go with them; if they come with the Powerful Yang, then I come with the Powerful Yang. But this Powerful Yang—why ask questions about it?”

(Watson 2013, p. 237)

This aforementioned passage depicts the world as an interdependent whole, where things fluidly interact with each other. There is nothing in this oneness that should be privileged or marginalized, for all are dependent on each other as inseparable ones within the One. Zhuangzi calls this natural relationship of mutual dependence “together by Heaven” (tianshu 天屬), and he explicitly explains it in “The Mountain Tree” chapter:

[Lin Hui] threw away his jade disk worth a thousand measures of gold, strapped his little baby on his back, and hurried off. Someone said to him, “Did you think of it in terms of money? Surely a little baby isn’t worth much money! Or were you thinking of the brother? But a little baby is a great deal of bother! Why, then, throw away a jade disk worth a thousand measures of gold and hurry off with a little baby on your back?” Lin Hui replied, “The jade disk and I were joined by profit, but the child and I were brought together by Heaven. When pressed by misfortune and danger, things joined by profit will cast one another aside; but when pressed by misfortune and danger, things brought together by Heaven will cling to one another. To cling to one another and to cast one another aside are far apart indeed!”

(Watson 2013, p. 161)

This natural relationship of interdependence is characterized by following the nature of all things, mutual induction through the nature of all things, and being together without human cause.

The large system formed by this interdependence of nature is called the “substantial interdependent system” (shizhi xiangdaixing xitong 實質相待性系統) by Fang Dongmei 方東美. He describes it as:

[An] all-encompassing system of information in which all things live according to their nature, exist in their own place, and do absolutely no harm to any other being … It is a system of mutual integration, in which all things by nature need each other, interact with each other, and do not exist alone … It is a system of interdependence and inclusion, in which everything has its own value and importance and is sufficient to produce an effect of considerable value, which in turn affects everything else.

(Fang 2012b, pp. 145–46)

It is worth noting that the concept of “together by Heaven” involved in dahua encompasses not only a reciprocal relationship of mutual accomplishment but also the coexistence of contrasting dynamics. Fang Dongmei further refers to this interconnected universe as “an infinite sequence of double reversals” (shuanghuixiangshi zhi wuqiong xulie 雙回向式之無窮序列), suggesting that all beings within the realm of existence can undergo endless repetition that create an infinite sequence of dual circles. For instance, the inherent interdependence between you 有 (something) and wu 無 (nothingness) is theoretically reconciled, possibly due to their harmonious coexistence in a mysterious and profound state of chongxuan 重玄 (double mystery). This amalgamation unifies the universe into an infinite organic whole where “This and that interrelate, blend, and mutually involve each other” (Fang 2012b, p. 146). The antithesis of the harmonious relationship bestowed by Heaven, which Zhuangzi criticizes, is an artificial and coerced relationship driven by self-interests, which is a fallacious, additive, and mutually detrimental association.

Achieving “together by Heaven” solves the problem of artificial external dependence because it involves the mutual interconnection of all things. Thus, the true essence of xiaoyao lies not only in self-sufficiency in one’s nature, but also in the ability to constantly engage in the larger interdependent system governed by Heaven. By doing so, one can effectively dissolve artificial relationships forged solely based on personal interests. Only through this process can a profound symbiosis manifest. Guo Xiang revealed that xiaoyao includes both “self-made success” (zitong 自通) and “keeping in step with things” (changtong 常通). He says, “Only one who arcanely merges with things and abides with great transformation can be free from dependency and thus always keep in step with things. How could this ever be just the result of self-made success and nothing more!” (Lynn 2022, p. 9).

At this point, Luo Xiangxiang’s misunderstanding of Guo Xiang’s wudai (depending on everything) becomes clear. Luo believes that depending on everything leads to “false xiaoyao”, since spiritual self-deception as a way to “overcome” an evil enemy actually prevents active resistance to said enemy in real life. Yet, according to Guo Xiang, xiaoyao includes self-made success and keeping in step with things. The former is based on the self-transformative nature of self, while the latter involves a natural connection between all things. This type of xiaoyao requires the maintenance and protection of this open relationship in reality and, conversely, the avoidance of behavior that destroys the interdependent relationships rooted in Heaven. Hence, everyone has the responsibility to improve the living environment. “False xiaoyao” escapes reality by retreating to the inner spirit in the face of external encroachment, which not only harms one’s inner nature but also violates one’s open relationship with all things. Instead of supporting the life of the individual, the external world becomes something that obstructs the functioning of natural relationships, resulting in a worse type of existence.

Overall, the objects of dependence can be confirmed as internal self-transformative nature and external Heaven-based relationships. As one’s nature also happens to be bestowed by Heaven, we can more narrowly conclude dai-X equals “being dependent on Heaven”.

5. The Ideal Expansion of Dai: The Interdependent Relationship with Heaven That Is Seemingly Non-Interdependent

“Depend on Heaven” can function as a general term for both depending on one’s self-transformative nature internally and depending on Heaven-based relationships externally. This means the object of dependence is clear, but the “Xu Wu Gui” chapter raises another issue when it states, “The True Man of ancient real people! Treat them with heaven [yi tian dai zhi 以天待之], not with man, the ancient real person!” (Watson 2013, p. 212). What does Zhuangzi mean by “treat them with Heaven”, which I take to mean “depend on Heaven”? This returns us to my other core question: How should one properly dai or depend on anything?

Other scholars use wudai to deal with the question of “how” to dai (depend on). Zhang Heping claims that wudai means “not being dependent on a particular thing and consists of ‘not being dependent on the fixed self internally, not being dependent on a particular environment externally’” (Zhang 2021). The idea that wudai means to not be dependent on a particular thing reveals it as a dynamic type of dependence. Ziporyn further notes the transformational nature of this, stating the following:

The wuhu dai zai is actually depending on the six breaths rather than not being dependent on anything but does not involve being dependent on a specific object; it is beyond the dilemma on both sides. This can be called “in essence inwardly dependent on external objects”, where the dai is not a specific state (realm) or a specific external thing. Such a paradoxical state can be conveyed by “not depend on anything and not depend on nothing, not depend on nothing and not depend on anything”.

(Ziporyn et al. 2022, p. 8)

The Zhuangzi itself presents this complex relationship of dependence and non-dependence in the “Discussion on Making All Things Equal” chapter. It says, “Even though the transforming voices [huasheng 化聲] may depend on something [xiang dai 相待], it is tantamount to not depending on anything at all [bu xiang dai 不相待]” (Ziporyn 2020, p. 21).14 In this article, I refer to this dual aspect as “the interdependent relationship with Heaven that is seemingly non-interdependent”. On this topic of “transforming voices”, Wang Fuzhi further says, “The piping of Heaven refers to the transforming voices … One needs to abandon one’s pregiven mind and change with the qi so as not to damage the True” (Wang 2011, p. 102). Gao Tang 高嵣 likewise affirms, “Transforming voices means the piping of Heaven” (Fang 2018, p. 365). In this example, the hua 化 (transforming) in huasheng (transforming voices) concretizes the meaning of depending on Heaven; thus, depending on Heaven is depending on hua, i.e., depending on “the interdependent relationship with Heaven that is seemingly non-interdependent”.

To more deeply understand the idea of “the interdependent relationship with Heaven that is seemingly non-interdependent”, consider the sentence following the previously quoted passage. It says, “Harmonize them all with the Heavenly Equality [Tianni 天倪], leave them to their endless changes, and so live out your years” (Watson 2013, p. 17). Ziporyn alternatively translates Tianni as “Heavenly Transition” (Ziporyn 2020, p. 21). This translation is more revealing, and the translator elaborates on the meaning of ni in a note, explaining that it literally means “beginnings or child on the one hand and division on the other, put together here to form the meaning transition—a beginning that crosses a division” (Ziporyn 2020, p. 21). Tianni can be understood as a reunification after the emergence of individualization and division, signifying the attainment of a complete unified Dao. However, amidst chaotic differentiation, the challenge is re-establishing this unified Dao while also affirming the existence of divisions.

The state of Tianni certainly affirms division and gives meaning to individual independent existences. Tao Chongdao 陶崇道 (1580–1650) explains Zhuang Zhou’s butterfly dream by saying, “what is seemingly non-interdependent? Zhuangzi and the butterfly, the difference between the two is very clear … the thing, I, right, wrong, the distinction was originally clear” (Fang 2018, p. 384). This not only affirms division as natural and individuals as having inherent value, but also reveals the fundamental order of the two parties. This order must “Harmonize them all with Tianni (Heavenly Transition)”, meaning to remove human factors. The result is a reunification that also restores their original contrastive relationships and certainly does not eradicate conflict or antagonism within a perfect unity.

Qian Chengzhi 錢澄之 (1612–1693) explains, “only by illuminating everything in the light of Heaven can the natural distinctions between things become apparent. This is the interdependent relationship with Heaven that is seemingly non-interdependent” (Qian 2014, p. 47). Here “illuminates all in the light of Heaven” describes the realization of natural divisions after a return to genuine existence. Qian Chengzhi further explains that this requires achieving “no-mind” (wuxin 無心), stating:

Tianni illuminates the bright and undimmed places in “that”. Right and wrong, since neither I nor you nor any third party can know them, require selflessness to be understood … this is the interdependent relationship with Heaven that is seemingly non-interdependent … “No-mind” allows the subject to align with everything, embodying the subtlety of the “seemingly non-interdependent”.

(Qian 2014, pp. 42–43)

Tao Chongdao concurs with Qian’s perspective that the interdependent relationship with Heaven, which is seemingly non-interdependent, means to “empty the mind and depend on all things” (wuxin zhi dai 無心之待). This sense of emptiness refers to eliminating the fixed, static, single, closed perspective of the self. This withdrawal from a limited self enables one to comply with the changes of all things, due to the constant transformation of the subject’s perspective and shared identity with things.

Ziporyn also realizes this, as he interprets the Perfect Man to have no self (zhiren wuji 至人無己) to be the Utmost Person who has no definite identity (Ziporyn 2020, p. 5). If the subject’s identity or perspective can be freely and unobstructedly transformed, a profound mutual understanding between the subject and object can be achieved, enabling them both to transcend their individual limitations. This necessitates standing on the pivot of Dao (daoshu 道樞)—specifically, to keep opening yourself up. The hinge of Dao resembles the central axis of a ring, positioned in the void without bias. It can change direction and perspective at any time, thus possibly leading to shifting in the opposite direction. Ziporyn further states that standing in the hinge of Dao means:

Standing at any given time and being able to temporarily choose another perspective. The characteristic of the hinge of Dao is that it does not have its own fixed right and wrong, so the current operation of the right and wrong have the same value. Therefore, there is always a possibility of turning to opposite values; that is, every “right” opens into another opposite perspective. It is the never-ending growth of new horizons. For example, the “fasting of the mind” (xinzhai 心齋) is a wild card with no fixed content.

(Ziporyn et al. 2022, p. 2)

The wild card is a card that has no fixed content of its own and can act as any number or suit, so it has no fixed good or bad and can thus make all perspectives equal. At the same time, the wild card also shows respect for the object; it is infinitely open and inclusive, meaning that it will not change any other card. Because of its own emptiness, it can play any card, which achieves an “all things are One” perspective; all perspectives are mutually exclusive and implicated simultaneously so that the transformation and connection between perspectives are open.

Holding this perspective undoubtedly transcends the internal boundaries of the subject, breaking down the line between the subject and the object so that they can understand each other, which Fang Dongmei calls “the intersubjective mind” (tonghu zhuti zhi ji de xinling 通乎主體之際的心靈) (Fang 2012a, p. 244). Losing oneself or having “no self” disrupts one’s rigid sense of self and shakes up fixed perspectives of right and wrong or this and that. This causes the subject to reimagine right and wrong or this and that as involving the compatibility between opposites. Zhuangzi describing the “transforming voice” as depending on something is just like this. As Fang Dongmei says, “getting rid of all self-centered powers of prejudices, mental attachments and self-attachments to achieve mutual understanding—connecting self and other and equalizing right and wrong” (Fang 2012b, p. 144). Yang Lihua 楊立華 similarly explains “This and that are connected and become integrated, implying that both this and that possess subjectivity” (Yang 2020, p. 138). It is precisely through this authentic experience that one can adhere to and follow the myriad things, encompassing both subject and object in a unified flow, enabling seamless navigation with the pure essence of Heaven and Earth.

In short, depending on hua (transformation) enables the subject to leap from the finite to the infinite when it integrates into dahua (the great transformation), which is the key to wandering with the Creator. Conversely, integration with dahua is the way to establish an interdependent relationship with Heaven that is seemingly non-interdependent. Lin Yidu 林疑獨 perfectly encapsulates this point:

The interdependence of all things arises from their mutual relationships, and when these relationships are bestowed by Heaven and harmoniously integrated into dahua, there will be no trace of dependency. For instance, sound can transcend itself and become a constant sound.

(Chu 2014, p. 75)

The term “constant sound” refers to a sound not contingent upon any specific thing. That is why it has an interdependent relationship with Heaven which is seemingly non-interdependent.

6. Conclusions

Since Guo Xiang proposed the expression wudai to explain Zhuangzi’s ideal kind of dai (depend on), scholars have repeatedly used it to interpret the Zhuangzian goal of xiaoyao. On the one hand, the term wudai has sparked unending and seemingly unresolvable scholarly debates. On the other hand, the connotation of wudai, understood according to Guo Xiang’s original sense of “depending on all things”, aligns well with Zhuangzi’s philosophy. To break away from the vortex of controversy and confusion, this study has returned to Zhuangzi’s original text and language to investigate dai itself. The sentence bie qie wuhu dai zai is the key to this and to Zhuangzi’s method of becoming xiaoyao. I conclude this sentence is not a rhetorical question but, rather, a direct question. When understood this way, it does not indicate that xiaoyao can only be achieved if you do not depend on anything, but it rather functions as an inquiry into the conditions for mounting on the truth of Heaven and Earth and riding the changes of six breaths. This question can be further unpacked into the proper object to depend on and the best way to depend on it.

Regarding the object, Heaven is the fundamental answer to this question. Depending on (dai) Heaven means both to internally depend on one’s Heaven-given but self-transformative nature and externally depend on the Heaven-based interrelations of all things. Only in this way can we both attain “self-made success” and “keep in step with things”; in other words, we not only can maintain self-sufficiency but also an openness to forming mutual coexistence-type relationships. Zhuangzi also further inquired about the way that one should achieve this dependence on Heaven. This method involves the ostensibly paradoxical state of having an interdependent relationship with Heaven that is seemingly non-interdependent; that is, to be dependent in a way that does not seem to be interdependent. This type of dependence is the fundamental basis for xiaoyao, and the way to attain this special dependence requires being seemingly non-interdependent amid the process of hua. The idea of hua includes an implicit critique of any fixed perspective, and so to engage hua as a way to depend on Heaven requires disrupting one’s inflexible sense of self, acknowledging interdependence with external objects, and emptying oneself so that as a subject one can transform one’s identity and role at any time, thus breaking through self-limitation and enabling infinite identity.

To summarize, achieving xiaoyao does not come from total isolation or independence from reliance on anything but instead requires dependence on the proper objects. These objects both come from Heaven and are one’s nature and the natural interrelationship between all things. Xiaoyao is not an escape but a full integration into the cosmos.