In the above section 2.1, we find from the testimonies on quiet-sitting meditation that Cheng Yi opposed the Buddhist practice of “sitting at ease” (宴坐) and the insolent posture of “sitting with legs stretched out” (箕踞). He instead advocated for “sitting calmly” (安坐), “sitting right” (正坐), or “sitting upright” (危坐). Cheng Yi even indicated that sitting on a chair could help one calm down.

Zhu Xi (1130–1200 CE), who lived around the same period of Chinese history as Cheng Yi, was renowned for his expertise in the study of ancient rituals. Zhu Xi corroborated in his work A Discourse on Kneeling, Sitting, and Bowing(跪坐拜說) that in ancient times, “sitting” (坐) meant “people sat with both knees on the ground and put the soles of their feet upward (反其蹠), sitting on top of their heels.”[52] Zhu further clarified that this posture of sitting with knees down required a mat on the ground and could be either “sitting upright” (危坐) or “sitting calmly” (安坐). Sitting upright required both knees to be on the ground with the waist and thighs straightened, resulting in an upright and tall posture. Sitting calmly required both knees to be on the ground with the buttocks resting on the soles (以尻著蹠), resulting in a posture that feels more relaxed.[53]

The widespread use of chairs and other furniture during Zhu Xi’s era eliminated the need to kneel in the traditional way of sitting, which necessitated Zhu’s study of the ancient sitting postures.[54] This shift is further corroborated by Cheng Yi’s previously cited observation that sitting on a chair can often bring a sense of calm.

After analyzing all the previous evidence, it is highly probable that Cheng Yi’s quiet-sitting posture involved sitting on a chair or similar furniture with neither legs stretched out nor crossed and with his back upright and unsupported by the chair.[55] Although there is no record of how Cheng Yi placed his hands during this practice, his advocacy for “not feeling constraint” suggests that the hands were likely placed on the knees or thighs, with the palms facing down.

Even if we can surmise Cheng Yi’s most probable quiet-sitting posture as such, the following statement of Cheng Yi sheds further light on the significance of sitting posture:

The concept of “embryonic breathing” (胎息) is acceptable if it is practiced for the purpose of curing one’s illness (愈疾). However, if it is used to enter the Way, it is not considered to be part of the teachings of the sages, who have never spoken of it.

If one claims that when the spirit resides, so does the breath (神住則氣住), and they practice it as a technique for deep meditation, it is a method used in Buddhism. In regards to this Buddhist technique, some argue that cultivating one’s vital-energy (養氣) is a secondary matter and that the focus should be on the heartmind. Buddhism aims to achieve compassion, kindness, and peace (慈惠安靜) of the heartmind, and therefore it can be helpful in following the Way. However, I do not agree with this view. Mengzi’s idea of “oceanic vital-energy” (浩然之氣) is not the same as this.

Now, if one says that preserving the heartmind and cultivating vital-energy is solely for the sake of vital-energy, then the focus is too narrow. . . . For those who claim that Buddhist meditation can aid in following the Way, it is because their heartmind cannot be settled, and they need to attain silence and tranquility (寂湛). However, this is not the same as the method of concentrating one’s mind in Buddhism.

If one’s learning is like this, then it is a jumbled mess (大段雜). Nurturing one’s heartmind does not necessarily require only closing one’s eyes and practicing quiet-sitting. As stated in the Record of Rites, “As for sitting, one should sit like a representative of the deceased (坐如尸), and as for standing, one should stand like during a period of abstinence (立如齊).” This means that one should focus on nurturing one’s will (養其志), not just on cultivating vital-energy.[56]

In this passage, Cheng Yi discusses the quiet-sitting posture in an interreligious/interspiritual[57] context. He argues that while the Daoist practice of “embryonic breathing”[58] addresses the need for “preserving the heartmind and cultivating vital-energy,” it places too much emphasis on the latter, prioritizing the cultivation of vital-energy over all other purposes. As a result, a Ru scholar can only endorse this practice to the extent that it promotes physical health and cures illness. However, with regard to the higher purpose of nurturing the heartmind and entering the ethical and metaphysical Ru way of life, the Daoist practice falls short.

In regard to the Buddhist practice of guiding one’s breath through the concentration of the mind, Cheng Yi acknowledges that, compared to Daoism, Buddhism appears to place more emphasis on the heartmind. However, due to the significant differences in ethical and metaphysical worldviews between Buddhism and Ruism, a Ru scholar cannot approve of this method for nurturing the heartmind. Even if one believes that practicing Buddhist meditation can help to settle the mind and attain a state of psychological calm, Cheng Yi does not believe that this can aid in the Ruist learning. This is because the goals of the Buddhist method are much more comprehensive than merely achieving a restful psychological state. Even if one’s initial intention in practicing Buddhist meditation was to attain this state, he or she may be led to the higher and distinct goals of Buddhism, which could interfere with his or her Ruist learning.

Similar to Buddhism, Ru meditation prioritizes the nurturing of the heartmind over the cultivation of vital-energy. However, Ruism employs a unique set of meditative techniques and ethical and metaphysical principles for this purpose. Notably, Cheng Yi suggests that “closing one’s eyes and practicing quiet-sitting” is not necessary for nurturing the heartmind in the Ruist tradition. Instead, any human activity conducted in accordance with the instructions for sitting and standing in the Record of Rites contributes to the contemplative Ru way of life.

According to this instruction, the term 尸 referred to a person representing a deceased ancestor during a sacrificial ritual, while 齊 referred to various practices performed before the official start of a sacrificial ritual, such as fasting, bathing, sexual restraint, and abstaining from other everyday activities.[59] Scholars’ archaeological research has shown that the sitting posture of the ancestor representative during the compilation of the Record of Rites is exactly the same as the posture of “sitting calmly” (安坐) studied by Zhu Xi, which involves both knees on the ground with the buttocks resting on the soles.[60] However, Cheng Yi emphasizes that the most important aspect of this instruction in the Record of Rites is not strictly adhering to a particular posture but rather “nurturing one’s will” and maintaining an attitude of reverence and deference toward the pattern-principles of all things and events within a properly ritualized human world.

Therefore, while we can infer that Cheng Yi’s preferred posture for quiet-sitting meditation was likely to be sitting upright on a chair, as mentioned earlier, it is more likely that Cheng Yi viewed this posture as a suggestion rather than a strict rule. The fundamental technique underlying all Cheng Yi’s contemplative practices is still the cultivation of “reverence,” as I will explain in more detail later.

After sitting upright on a chair, what would Cheng Yi do next to continue his practice of quiet-sitting meditation? Because there are many methods of beholding the vivacity of the myriad things, as discussed earlier, Cheng Yi seemed to have choices to answer this question. However, given the prevalence of contemplative breathing as a method to deepen meditation across various traditions, it is worth asking whether Cheng Yi used this method as well. The following three passages provide evidence that Cheng Yi did ascribe a certain significance to meditative breathing:

The genuine origin (真元) is where vital-energy is born and does not mix with external vital-energy (外氣), although it can be nourished (涵養) by it. This is similar to how fish live in water; their life is not created by the water but rather nourished and sustained by it. Humans also live in the midst of the vital-energies of heaven and earth, no different from how fish live in water. The nourishment we receive from food and drink also comes from external vital-energy. Breathing involves the closing and opening [of the transformative mechanism of the universe]. The air that is exhaled is not the same as the air that is inhaled. It is the genuine origin that generates the air, and when the cosmic mechanism opens, external air enters accordingly. The creativity of the genuine origin does not require assistance from these external vital-energies.[61]

By examining one’s own body, all the pattern-principles of the universe can be discovered. The contraction and expansion [of the transformative mechanism of the universe] are evident in the intervals between breaths (鼻息之間). Contraction and expansion are merely derivatives of pattern-principle, and there is no need to turn exhaled, contracted air into inhaled, expanded air. The pattern-principle of constant creativity (生生之理) implies that contraction and expansion do not naturally cease.[62]

The phrase “One yin and one yang is called Dao”[63] refers to a pattern-principle that is deeply profound and cannot be fully expressed in words. Dao explains why there are yin and yang: whenever we speak of Qi (vital-energies), it always involves two forms. The opening and closing [of the transformative mechanism of the universe] already implies mutual affection (感). Whenever there are two forms of Qi, mutual affection follows. Dao explains why there is the opening and closing mechanism, and what is opening and closing is the yin and yang Qi. It is not accurate for Laozi to say that the vacuum can generate Qi. There is no priority between the interplay of the opening yang and the closing yin, and it is impossible to say that there is yin today and yang tomorrow. This is like a person’s shadow, which appears simultaneously with the person. It cannot be said that the person exists today and their shadow emerges tomorrow; they arise together.[64]

For Cheng Yi, the significance of meditative breathing consists in its role in absorbing external vital-energies to nourish, rather than generate, the genuine origin (真元) of human life. The genuine origin refers to the universal pattern-principle of constant creativity, or simply the Dao, which creates yin and yang vital-energies. The constant interplay of yin and yang comprises the generative and restorative mechanism of cosmic transformation, and this mechanism can be contemplated when one focuses on breathing.

While the term 真元was present in Daoist texts,[65] Cheng Yi rejected the idea of a temporal sequence between yin and yang vital-energies, thus challenging Laozi’s Daoist cosmology that posits a primeval stage of the vacuum (虚) or formless vital-energy (元氣) that eventually gives rise to concrete vital-energies.[66] Cheng Yi’s cosmology, rooted in the Ruist commentarial tradition of the Classic of Change, has a distinct ontological orientation: the Dao, or supreme pattern-principle, which nontemporally creates yin, yang, and other forms of vital-energies. Once created, the interplay of yin and yang persists without temporal beginning or end.

In this Ruist metaphysics, when contemplating one’s breath, the focus is not on the sequence of inhalation and exhalation. Instead, it is on the closing and opening of the transformative mechanism of the entire universe, which allows one to contemplate the supreme cosmic pattern-principle of constant creativity. While human life requires nourishment from breathed air, food, and drink, all these originate from the genuine origin of the entire universe. Meditative breathing serves as a reminder of the genuine origin of our life.

How to prevent the mind from being perturbed by random thoughts is a prevalent issue for meditation practitioners. As previously analyzed, Cheng Yi does not endorse “thinking of nothing” or “sticking to one singular thought” as the method for achieving restful sleep. Instead, Cheng Yi extends this approach to all contemplative moments and prescribes a general method for calming the mind when it is replete with fleeting and random thoughts.

On the one hand, Cheng Yi denies that there is a possibility of stopping thinking:

If one attempts to forcibly halt their thoughts, it will only lead to an endless stream of thoughts.[67]

Without deep thought, one cannot reach the Way. Those who attain without deep thought are likely to lose it easily. However, some scholars claim that they can attain something through the method of “no thought, no worry” (無思無慮). Why is this so? The answer is that those who attain without thought or worry have actually attained through deep thought. Those who believe that “no thought, no worry” means to stop thinking and still claim to have attained are simply deluding themselves as such a thing has never happened.[68]

On the other hand, in order to calm one’s mind, one cannot forcefully focus his or her thoughts on a single object. Cheng Yi’s brother also recognized this characteristic of human thought:

Cheng Hao, in the past, was sitting leisurely in a warehouse in Chang’an, and later he saw the pillars in a corridor. He counted them in his mind, and at first, he was not doubtful. But when he counted them again and the result was different, he had to have people count them out loud one by one. It turned out that the result was no different from the first counting. From this experience, he realized that the more one clings to probing with their thought (著心把捉), the more uncertain it becomes.[69]

Cheng Yi’s general method of calming the mind is evidenced by the following passage:

The primary task of a scholar is to cultivate the will of the heartmind. Some may aim to shut out their thoughts and knowledge, pursuing the Daoist path of “abandoning sagehood and discarding wisdom” (絕聖棄智).[70]Others may seek to eliminate distracting thoughts and turn to Buddhist meditation for settling their mind. However, the heartmind, like a clear mirror reflecting all things, always interacts with the myriad things and cannot help but think. To be free from distractions and chaos in one’s heartmind, one must have mastery over the mind. How does one achieve this mastery? Through reverence. With mastery, the mind is empty of vices, and evil cannot enter. Without mastery, the mind is full, and things come to take it away.

A bottle filled with water cannot hold more, even if rivers and seas flow into it. How can it not be empty [of external things]? If the bottle is empty, even a small puddle of still water can fill it. How can it not be full? Similarly, the mind cannot be used for two things at once. If it is used for one thing, other things cannot enter. If one takes the occupied thing as the master, there will be no distracting thoughts. If one takes reverence as the master, how can this problem arise at all?

Reverence involves taking One as the master (主一之謂敬), and One means no vacillation (無適之謂一). By taking One as the master and cultivating it, distractions of two or three can be eliminated. The best way to understand reverence is through the words of the sages. As the Classic of Changes says, “One should straighten their inner self with reverence and align their outer conduct with righteousness” (敬以直內，義以方外).[71]Taking One as the master means being upright within. Refraining from deceit or belittlement and feeling no shame in a hidden corner of the house—these are all matters of reverence. By maintaining and cultivating reverence, the heavenly pattern-principle (Tianli) will naturally become clear over time.[72]

Cheng Yi, in a similar manner to his explanation of the importance of sitting posture, elaborates on his method of calming the mind by commenting on the approaches advocated by Daoism and Buddhism. He believes that to free the mind from distractions and chaos, both Daoist and Buddhist methods risk detaching the mind from the inevitability of thought. Instead, a Ru should focus on nurturing an attitude of reverence toward the supreme pattern-principle of the universe, which can lead to concentration and unity without wavering. Additionally, ethical pursuits aimed at doing things right, such as being honest, humble, and reflective, even in solitude, are crucial for cultivating the attitude of reverence. These pursuits assist in concentrating the mind and gradually grounding it in the Tianli.

In Cheng Yi’s view, not all thoughts are detrimental to contemplation. If one’s mind is focused on realizing ethical norms justified by the Tianli, thoughts can be beneficial to nurturing reverence and calming the mind. The following passage provides further instructions on this matter:

Yu Shu once experienced chaotic and distracting thoughts that were neither related to ethical principles nor pressing matters. In such a case, these thoughts were merely signs of an undisciplined mind. To remedy this disease, Yu Shu advises attaining a state of serene stillness (虛靜). However, if this pursuit goes to the extreme, one may desire to become like lifeless wood or ash, which is impossible.[73] Humans are living beings and naturally have thoughts and actions. Unless they are dead, they cannot become lifeless wood or ash.

Why is it that loyalty and trustworthiness can lead to the cultivation of virtues? The answer lies in the fact that authenticity (誠) is preserved when one refrains from indulging in vices (閑邪). And it is from this authenticity that loyalty and trustworthiness emerge. But how does one avoid vices? By refraining from looking, listening, speaking, or acting in ways that go against ritual propriety.

If the cultivation of virtue is as such, then how can one’s body be like a withered tree and one’s mind like dead ash? Even after eliminating the four thought habits of speculation, absolutization, stubbornness, and presumptuousness,[74] what else must one do? When can one become withered wood and dead ash? Reverence entails being upright within, with a ruler being a ruler and a subject being a subject. One should act in accordance with this principle in all matters, whether big or small.[75]

Cheng Yi’s approach to achieving a state of reverence to calm the mind clearly involves discernment of ethical norms in all aspects of human life. In this regard, we will now delve more deeply into the attitude of reverence and its complex relationship with other Ru virtues.

Previous analyses indicate that “reverence” is a central technique in Cheng Yi’s contemplative practice, with “technique” being broadly understood as an underlying and universal attitude. Cheng Yi’s standard definition of “reverence” is “taking One as the master” (主一), and he provides varying expositions of this definition.

Some of these expositions are concerned with the psychological state of the heartmind that takes One as the master as well as the methods to achieve it:

Kuan asked, “What is meant by ‘taking One as the master,’ and can you kindly explain it?” Yin Hejing replied, “[According to the teaching of Cheng Yi,] ‘reverence’ has no visible form but simply involves gathering one’s mind and body in an orderly manner (收斂身心). For instance, when one pays respect at an ancestral shrine, their mind is gathered in reverence and not distracted by any slight thing. If this is not ‘taking One as the master,’ then what is it?”

In the past, there was a man named Zhao Chengyi who studied under Cheng Yi. Zhao was not particularly intelligent, and Cheng Yi had him focus on the character “reverence.” Zhao asked for further guidance, but Cheng Yi simply tidied his clothing and adjusted his appearance. Later, Zhao asked Yin Hejing about this encounter, and Yin explained that Cheng Yi intended for Zhao to cultivate awareness (醒覺) in his everyday life.[76]  

Cheng Yi said that simply adjusting one’s appearance and gathering one’s thoughts will naturally give rise to reverence. Reverence is nothing but taking One as the master. Taking One as the master means neither leaning towards the East nor the West but remaining centered (中) and neither leaning towards this nor that but remaining inward (內). By doing so, the heavenly pattern-principle will naturally become clear over time.[77]

Cheng Yi said that “taking One as the master” is synonymous with “reverence.” The “One” refers to authenticity (誠), and “taking as the master” implies attentive intention (有意).[78]

Other expositions are specifically about what the One refers to:

Yin Hejing once asked Cheng Yi: “[The text of Centrality and Commonality says that] the hawks fly up to heaven; the fish leap in the deep. Could it be that there is one pattern-principle encompassing all beings above and below (上下一理)?” Cheng Yi replied, “At this point, all I can do is nod my head.”[79]

Cheng Yi said that the pattern-principle and the heartmind are one, yet people cannot unite them as one.[80]

The records indicate that the core traits of the psychological state of reverence include concentration, freedom from distractions, attentiveness, authenticity to oneself, and remaining centered and inward. To cultivate reverence, one begins with seemingly mundane tasks like tidying clothes and adjusting appearance, which can extend to all aspects of daily life. Ultimately, one experiences the unification of his or her heartmind with the supreme pattern-principle of the universe, known as Tianli, which continuously creates all things in the universe.

Therefore, the phrase “taking One as the master” can be understood as referring to three levels of self-cultivation. First, “One” refers to each of the concrete things and affairs in human life, such as tidying one’s clothes and paying respect to ancestral shrines. Taking One as the master in this stage means focusing on these concrete things and conducting them properly. Second, “One” refers to the unifying and concentrated psychological state of the heartmind. Taking One as the master in this level means mastering the heartmind as an inclusive and attentive consciousness that pervades every detail of everyday life. Finally, “One” refers to the universal pattern-principle that creates and encompasses all beings in the universe. Taking One as the master in this stage implies the establishment of a cosmic consciousness that connects one’s attentive heartmind to the ultimate reality of the universe.

As the attitude of reverence seeks to sustain a constant state of awareness that transcends the need to pay attention to particular things, Cheng Yi also suggests a method of “consistent reverence” (素敬) to maintain this state continually:

Someone asked, “Confucius once said, ‘When one goes out, it should be as if one is meeting an important guest; when one leads the people, it should be as if one is conducting a great sacrifice.’[81] But what about before going out or before leading the people? What should one do?” Cheng Yi answered, “This is the time for ‘solemn reflection’ (儼若思).[82] When one goes out, their reverence should be as such, allowing for a glimpse into what their demeanor should have been like prior to departing. Moreover, what is manifest outside is an extension of what is inside. Leading the people or going out to meet them is a matter of business. It is not the business that makes one reverent, but rather one should possess a consistent reverence (素敬). It is like when one deals with things honestly, people will call them an honest person. They have always been honest, not just since dealing with things honestly. When one straightens their clothing and hat and looks up with a dignified expression, there is a place of reverence within. Even though one might say that there is no form, reverence can be manifest accordingly.”[83]

Considering reverence as an ongoing state of awareness that is rooted in one’s authentic self and connected with the universal pattern-principle, Cheng Yi employs it further to unify all practical approaches to self-cultivation in traditional Ruism. Nonetheless, he acknowledges that none of these approaches can fully encapsulate the comprehensive and prescriptive character of reverence. The following sayings of Cheng Yi provide additional examples in this regard.

First, regarding the effort of “refraining from vices” (閑邪), Cheng Yi states, “If one refrains from vices, it is certain that they are taking One as the master. However, if one has taken One as the master, there is no need to speak of refraining from vices anymore.”[84] Similarly, Confucius instructs to “overcome the ego and return to the ritual-propriety” (克己復禮).[85] Cheng Yi explains that “reverence implies [a return to] ritual-propriety, and once one is reverent, there is no ego to conquer.”[86] In other words, overcoming one’s improper desires of pursuing vices is just one of the many ways to cultivate reverence. By consistently taking One as the master and practicing reverence, there is no need to specifically focus on refraining from vices all the time.

Second, building on his earlier discussions on the Daoist approach of nurturing vital-energy (養氣) and the Buddhist approach of nurturing the heartmind (養心) in the context of explaining the significance of sitting posture in Ru meditation, Cheng Yi highlights that the attitude of reverence can integrate the Ru methods of cultivating vital-energy and nurturing the heartmind, eliminating the need to compartmentalize these aspects of self-cultivation as evidenced in the following: 

Someone said that nurturing vital-energy can assist in nurturing the heartmind. Cheng Yi replied, “Reverence is just reverence, and nothing can be added to the concept of reverence. It is like showing reverence to one’s father, does one need to seek assistance in showing reverence to one’s elder brother? . . . Similarly, after someone has been to the Eastern capital, the Western capital, and the city of Chang’an, if they focus on one place, the other places cannot be simultaneously present in their mind. The heartmind cannot hold onto two disparate destinations at once.”[87]

Third, Cheng Yi connects the state of quietude attained through the practice of quiet-sitting with reverence in the following manner:

Reverence implies a state of transparency and quietude (虛靜), but this state should not be equated with reverence itself. Living in a state of reverence leads to simplicity in action, but intentionally living in simplicity and acting simply is not true simplicity. Rather, it is merely a matter of living in simple conditions.[88]

Cheng Yi’s observation on the homophones “quietude” (靜, jing) and “reverence” (敬, jing) is particularly significant because it suggests that quiet-sitting—along with other practices such as “refraining from vices,” “returning to ritual-propriety,” “nurturing vital-energy,” and “living in simplicity”—is just one of many ways to cultivate and nourish the central and universal attitude of the Ru contemplative way of life: reverence or taking One as the master. Without this fundamental attitude, all practices would lose their significance, but with it, all practices become legitimate in different contexts.

Upon examination, the essential mindset of reverence strives to nurture a continuous state of awareness. This mindset, metaphysically underpinned by the all-embracing One pattern-principle in the universe, functions as an umbrella category that encompasses all contemplative practices. As specifically highlighted by the “consistent reverence” method, the practice of reverence leads to disengaging from tangible aspects of the world and attaining a transcendent cosmic consciousness. However, upon further reflection, Cheng Yi recognizes that practicing reverence in this manner may pose a risk of escapism, and it should be balanced with another practice, “righteousness” (義). The following conversation on how to cultivate the oceanic vital-energy provides an instruction:

Someone asked, “Mengzi says that in order to cultivate the oceanic vital-energy, one must maintain constant awareness of something present to pursue. Does this mean we need to use the method of reverence?” Cheng Yi replies, “Reverence is merely a means of nourishing oneself (涵養). Indeed, there must be something to pursue, which necessitates the effort of ‘accumulating righteousness’ (集義).[89] Relying solely on reverence without accumulating righteousness ultimately results in accomplishing nothing.”

Cheng Yi is asked again, “Isn’t righteousness about adhering to pattern-principles?” He replies, “Adhering to pattern-principles involves dealing with matters, while righteousness resides in the heartmind. Without upholding righteousness, how can one develop the oceanic vital-energy? The pattern-principle simply externalizes what is internally present. For instance, in reverence, even before presenting a ceremonial gift, one should embody reverence. Though it is through the presentation of the gift and the display of solemn etiquette that reverence becomes visible, the heartmind must harbor such reverence for it to be seen. If one’s heartmind is devoid of reverence, how can it be exhibited? The so-called virtue is acquired within oneself, and only then can it be considered virtue.”

Cheng Yi is asked, “What is the difference between reverence and righteousness?” He replies, “Reverence is the way of maintaining oneself (持己), while righteousness involves discerning right from wrong. To act in accordance with pattern-principles is to exhibit righteousness. If one solely abides by reverence without accumulating righteousness, it amounts to doing nothing. For example, if one desires to be filial, can it be achieved by merely clinging to the character for filiality (孝)? One must understand the way why and how to be filial, such as how to serve and attend to one’s parents in winter and summer, only then can the duties of filiality be fulfilled.” Cheng Yi is asked again, “Is righteousness only applicable to external matters?” He replies, “Pattern-principles are consistent across both internal and external aspects. Why seek righteousness only in external matters?”[90]

As suggested, Cheng Yi’s guidance on practicing righteousness bears significant similarities to his teachings on reverence: righteousness stems from the virtue of personhood and adheres to pattern-principles that unify the human heart and external matters. However, righteousness differs from reverence in that the pervasive attitude of reverence may not address any specific thing. Righteousness, on the other hand, necessitates an individual to discern right from wrong and, moreover, to act rightly in concrete situations.

In light of Cheng Yi’s distinction between reverence and righteousness, we should add another stage to the three aspects of self-cultivation implied by “taking One as the master”: first, handling each concrete matter appropriately; second, achieving a constant state of attentive awareness; third, anchoring one’s transcendent cosmic consciousness upon the heavenly pattern-principle; and finally, returning to the immanent and mundane details of the human world, which is to examine and do the right thing in each situation. Comparatively, the first three stages relate to reverence and comprise a Ru version of negative theology, which aims to detach from the mundane world to reach a transcendent cosmic consciousness. The fourth stage relates to righteousness and is equivalent to a positive theology, which seeks to actualize and affirm the transcendent cosmic consciousness within the immanent human world. Cheng Yi’s essential method of the Ru contemplative way of life combines both negative and positive aspects, or in his final words, one should “jointly preserve reverence and righteousness” (敬義夾持).[91]

I need to address two additional points to further clarify this fundamental method. As scholars have extensively explored these two points in the realms of metaphysics and epistemology, my subsequent discussion will concentrate on connecting them to Cheng Yi’s contemplative practice.

First, I have previously discussed that the constancy of attentive awareness, achieved through the practice of reverence, is anchored in the all-embracing one pattern-principle of the universe. This means that the notion that “the pattern-principle is one” (理一) provides a metaphysical foundation for the cultivation method of reverence. Correspondingly, another important proposition, “the pattern-principle is one, and its manifestations are many” (理一分殊), offers metaphysical justification for the method of “jointly preserving reverence and righteousness.” Cheng Yi stated this proposition in the context of a discussion on Zhang Zai’s Western Inscription (西銘):

The Western Inscription implies that the pattern-principle is one, yet its manifestations are many. In contrast, the Moists champion the unity of love without distinction. The defect of overemphasizing distinctions leads to selfishness and the loss of humaneness; the transgression of not making distinctions results in impartial love without righteousness. Promoting the Oneness of the pattern-principle while maintaining distinctions serves to counter the consequences of selfishness, and this is the approach for achieving humaneness. Becoming preoccupied with impartial love without distinctions, reaching the extreme of making no distinction between one’s father and others, leads to the absence of righteousness.[92]

Just as universal humane love must be balanced by the virtue of righteousness, which acknowledges the unique distinctions of each living being, the all-encompassing attitude of reverence in one’s contemplative practice must be complemented by the practice of righteousness, which calls for doing the right thing in the proper way. Ultimately, this is because the One pattern-principle of the universe’s constant creativity manifests in various beings, and humans need to make efforts to realize this universal principle distinctively within the human world.

Second, as particularly emphasized by Cheng Yi’s earlier guidance on how to be filial, the method of “jointly preserving reverence and righteousness” involves examining the ethical norms of human behavior as well as all factual knowledge that either justifies those norms or can be employed to actualize them. This connection integrates this core method of contemplative practice with Cheng Yi’s well-known teachings on “investigating things” (格物), “thoroughly studying pattern-principles” (窮理), and “attaining knowledge” (致知) as partially hinted at in our previous discussion on Cheng Yi’s beholding practice. Three points assist us in understanding the distinctiveness of Cheng Yi’s contemplative practice when considered in this context.

First, the necessity of intellectual activity in studying pattern-principles of all things in the world, along with its accompanying social activism, underscores the distinction of Ruism, as exemplified by Cheng Yi’s approach, from other contemplative traditions dedicated to monasticism and other-worldly oriented mysticism. These alternative traditions may downplay or dismiss the role of intellectual activities in contemplative practice, setting Ruism apart in its approach to contemplation.

Second, not only do intellectual activities contribute to a contemplative lifestyle, but the latter also enhances the former. Cheng Yi emphasizes the importance of the attitude of reverence, understood as a constant state of attentive awareness, in the process of investigating things and attaining knowledge. He states, “To be a human, nothing is more important than reverence, and without it, no one can attain knowledge. Nowadays, people’s minds are unsettled; they regard their own minds as enemies and bandits that cannot be controlled. In such cases, it is not the daily matters that burden their heartmind, but rather their heartmind that burdens the daily matters.”[93]

Third, since there is a deeply contemplative dimension to the activity of knowing, Cheng Yi contends that the process of “attaining knowledge” goes beyond merely acquiring “knowledge through hearing and seeing” (聞見之知). Instead, the kind of knowledge that a Ru contemplator seeks to obtain has a distinct aesthetic and moral dimension, which Cheng Yi refers to as “knowledge with moral nature” (德性之知).[94] Correspondingly, the means of acquiring such knowledge, enriched with moral nature, go beyond empirical methods of hearing and seeing that merely aim to provide concrete facts. As Cheng Yi states,

We should not regard “experiential understanding” (體會) as separate from the heartmind. Because of this misconception, some argue that the heartmind is small while nature is vast. The scope to which the heartmind extends is indeed no different from the heavens and the earth; it should not be belittled. We must not let the heartmind stagnate at the level of mere knowledge [acquired through hearing and seeing]; otherwise, we will inadvertently diminish its significance.[95]

In other words, the process of investigating things involves a whole-person experience with these things, and the knowledge that is subsequently acquired pertains to the intertwined facts and values of those things in the world.