On Tiptoe
In a crowd, trying to see over the heads in front, you rise onto your toes.
For a moment you are taller.
Then your legs shake, and you come down.
企者不立，
qǐ zhě bù lì,
Whoever stands on tiptoe does not stand firm;
跨者不行，
kuà zhě bù xíng,
whoever takes giant strides does not walk far;
自見者不明，
zì xiàn zhě bù míng,
whoever shows off does not shine;
自是者不彰，
zì shì zhě bù zhāng,
whoever insists on being right is not seen to be;
自伐者無功，
zì fá zhě wú gōng,
whoever boasts has no merit;
自矜者不長。
zì jīn zhě bù cháng.
whoever is pleased with themselves does not last.
其在道也，曰餘食贅行。
qí zài dào yě, yuē yú shí zhuì xíng.
On the Way, these are called leftover food and useless growths.
物或惡之，
wù huò wù zhī,
Things, it seems, dislike them;
故有道者不處。
gù yǒu dào zhě bù chǔ.
so whoever has the Way does not dwell in them.
The words
to stand on tiptoe; to strain towards
A person (人) above a foot (止): someone up on their toes. Today 企 is in the Chinese words for hope and enterprise: always reaching for a little more height than you have.
self, oneself
Four lines in a row begin with it: 自見, 自是, 自伐, 自矜. Showing oneself, oneself right, boasting of oneself, admiring oneself. The trouble the chapter names is not the showing or the boasting so much as the 自 in front of it, the self turned to face itself.
something extra and useless; a growth on the body
Wang Bi reads it as a wart or a lump, something the body grows that does it no good.1 Leftover food is the same picture on a plate: what was good becomes, once it is more than needed, something to throw away.
The line 自見者不明 can also be heard as "whoever sees only themselves does not see clearly", reading 見 as jiàn, "to see". The course follows the older reading, xiàn, "to show", but both are true.
Sitting with it
The chapter begins with the body, because the body can't lie about this. Stand on tiptoe and you are taller, and you cannot stay there. Take giant strides and you cover ground quickly, and you are tired before the road is half done. You have done both, as a child and as an adult.
Then, without changing its tone, the chapter moves inside. Showing off is standing on tiptoe. Insisting you're right is a giant stride. They work, for a moment. People do look. The argument is, for now, won. And then the legs shake.
Notice the strange logic. It's not that the person who shows off is punished. It's that showing off undoes itself. Whoever shows off does not shine: the light you push forward is the light people stop seeing. Whoever insists on being right is not seen to be: the louder you claim it, the less anyone believes it.
The book's word for these efforts is not sin or wrong. It is leftovers. Food that was good, eaten past hunger. A growth on the body that the body didn't need. Too much of something that, in its right amount, was fine.
The last line is quiet: whoever has the Way does not dwell in them. Not "fights them", not "is ashamed of them". Just doesn't live there. Comes down off the toes, and stands.
In chapter 22, in the module before this one, the book said the same thing the other way round: the one who does not show off is the one who shines. Here it shows you the tiptoe, so that you recognise it in yourself.
A practice
Next time you feel the pull to make yourself look bigger, to mention an achievement, to have the last word, to correct someone who doesn't need correcting, notice it as a rising onto your toes.
You don't need to stop. Just feel it in your body, and let your heels come down.
To carry
企者不立
qǐ zhě bù lì
Whoever stands on tiptoe does not stand firm.
Sources
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Wang Bi's commentary on chapter 24 calls such self-praise 肬贅, "warts and growths". 道德經 (王弼本) on Wikisource. ↩