Yielding Sovereignty

We rationalist, materialist, post-enlightenment liberals of the west are most loathe to surrender our notion of conscious sovereignty. We take much joy and sense of strength from the presupposition that our wills are free—or if not free, that they ought to be made perfectly free from restraint by society and the natural world. This is, of course, a mistake. It is a gross over-estimation of the power of conscious will, just as it is a misattribution of virtue from the instincts to the conscious intention.

The truth is that our egos, our conscious wills, are not sovereign. Our wills are not free, they are emergent properties embodied. We are also animals extant in a material world. Biology and physics constitute just a couple of the rules by which all beings must play the game of life—of existence. In short: we are each and all bounded by our individual potentials which remain simultaneously mysterious to us as they are real.

What then are we to make of our limitations in the face of Nature, both within and outside of us? The Zhuangzi suggest that we treat our limitations as our structure, that we think of our potential as the shape of our existence thereby its jagged edge do we find where we fit into the matching jagged edge that is everything external to our choices. Sometimes this means yielding ambition toward wealth, power, and prestige. At other times, it means embracing the responsibility that comes with such things when they are part of the Path before you. Either way, what we are discussing is the orientation of one’s attitude toward that which is outside one’s control.

For example, consider this short discourse between Zhanzi and Prince Mou:

Prince Mou of Middle Mountain said to Zhanzi, “My body is here taking in the sights of the rivers and seas, but my mind remains back at the court of Wei. What can I do?”

Zhanzi said, “Value the life in you. If you value the life in you, profit ceases to seem so important.”

Prince Mou said, “I understand that, but I can’t help myself.”

Zhanzi said, “Well, if you can’t help it, then just go with it; do not hate the imponderable spirit in you! If you cannot control your longings, but then you force yourself not to obey them, this is called a double injury. Those who are thus doubly injured are never among the long-lived.” (Zhuangzi 234)

Many of us very well may find ourself in the place of Prince Mou, in one way or another. Clearly, the prince must have been dissatisfied with how he was living his life, for when our story starts, he is already separate from court society and studying Taoism under Zhanzi. This first step, to separate oneself from the constant temptation toward externals such a prestige and profit, is the Path most people are likely to benefit from. After all, it is by definition an exceptional person whose nature is to out-compete those vying in the same competence hierarchy. That is what is meant when Zhanzi suggest simply to, “Value the life in you.”

In an earlier passage, this, “valuing of life” is further articulated:

The state of Han and the state of Wei were in a conflict over some contested territory. Zihuazi went to see the Marquis Zhaoxi of Han and found him looking quite distraught. Zihuazi said, “What if all the states in the world were to come before you with a signed edict saying, ‘If anyone grabs hold of this with his left hand, his right hand will be removed, and if anyone grabs hold of it with his right hand, his left will be removed. But whoever does grab hold of it will be given possession of the empire.’ Could you then bring yourself to grab hold of it?”

Marquis Zhaoxi said, “I could not.”

Zihuazi said, “Excellent! From this it is obvious that your two hands are worth more to you than the empire. But your entire body is surely worth more than your two hands, and the state of Han is worth less than the whole empire. And the small piece of territory you are now contending over is certainly worth less  than even the state of Han, You, my lord, certainly care about your body; so it can’t be right for you to harm the life in you with this worry and sorrow!” (230-1)

Here it is clear, to value the life in oneself is to properly assess one’s priority of values, at the peak of which is that which is most intrinsic. In this example case it was the body compared to the external factors of political territory. However, for many of us—particularly as we age—even the body must be yielded for virtues even more intrinsic. Because even your body is not something entirely, or even mostly, under your control; after all, men are born diseased and crippled through no fault of their own.

This brings us back around to Prince Mou’s conundrum. He is trying to orient himself to value the life in him, yet still his nature casts his mind back to court society. This is the need for that second layer of yielding I just mentioned. Mou tried to surrender his desires for particular outcomes in his political affairs, but he could not eliminate his desire to be involved in those affairs. It is too much a part of his nature and of his circumstances. He is a prince, after all. He did not choose to be, but was born into it with the disposition which orients him toward courtly politics.

And so Zhanzi instructs Mou to yet again yield to that which is more intrinsic to Mou’s being. To fight against his instincts at this deeper level would be to self-inflict what Mushasi called “the sickness of the sickness of the mind. It is the desire to eliminate desire itself. But as Takuan points out in his commentaries on the Tao Ta Ching, even our sensory perceptions are akin to desires; therefore, there shall always be desires. The real questions are, “Which desires are those outside of my control?” and “To what extent am I bound by potential to seek the fulfillment of those desire?”

Recognizing these questions is how we yield sovereignty to where it belongs—in the world as-it-is, as it is in which we can find how we fit in—as we can discover how to reach our highest potential, which is and can only be in accord with the Great Source of the Way.

Zhuangzi. Zhuangzi; The Complete Writings, translated by Brook Ziporyn, Hackett Publishing Company Inc., 2020