Bruce Lee Artist of Life. Bruce Lee

name it is the mother of all things. Only the man eternally free from passion can contemplate its spiritual essence. He who is clogged by desires can see no more than its outer form. These two things, the spiritual (Yin) and the material (Yang), though we call them by different names, are one and the same in their origin. The sameness is a mystery of the mysteries. It is the gate of all that is subtle and wonderful.¹

      In Masterpieces of World Philosophy: “Tao is the nameless beginning of things, the universal principle underlying everything, the supreme, ultimate pattern, and the principle of growth.”² Huston Smith, the author of The World’s Religions, explained Tao as “The Way of Ultimate Reality—the Way or Principle behind all life, or the Way man should order his life to gear in with the Way the universe operates.”³

      Although no one word can substitute its meaning, I have used the word Truth for it—the “Truth” behind gung fu; the “Truth” that every gung fu practitioner should follow.

      Tao operates in Yin and Yang, a pair of mutually complementary forces that are at work in and behind all phenomena. This principle of Yin-Yang, also known as T’ai Chi, is the basic structure of gung fu. The T’ai Chi, or Grand Terminus, was first drawn more than three thousand years ago by Chou Chun I.

      The Yang (whiteness) principle represents positiveness, firmness, masculinity, substantiality, brightness, day, heat, and so forth. The Yin (blackness) principle is the opposite. It represents negativeness, softness, femininity, insubstantiality, darkness, night, coldness, and so forth. The basic theory in T’ai Chi is that nothing is so permanent as never to change. In other words, when activity (Yang) reaches the extreme point, it becomes inactivity, and inactivity forms Yin. Extreme inactivity returns to become activity, which is Yang. Activity is the cause of inactivity and vice versa. This system of complementary increasing and decreasing of the principle is continuous. From this one can see that the two forces (Yin-Yang), although they appear to conflict, in reality are mutually interdependent; instead of opposition, there is cooperation and alternation.

      The application of the principles of Yin-Yang in gung fu are expressed as the Law of Harmony. It states that one should be in harmony with, not in rebellion against, the strength and force of the opposition. This means that one should do nothing that is not natural or spontaneous; the important thing is not to strain in any way. When opponent A uses strength (Yang) on B, B must not resist him (back) with strength; in other words, B does not use positiveness (Yang) against positiveness (Yang), but instead yields to A with softness (Yin) and leads A in the direction of his own force, negativeness (Yin) to positiveness (Yang). When A’s strength goes to the extreme, the positiveness (Yang) will change to negativeness (Yin), and B can then take him at his unguarded moment and attack with force (Yang). Thus the whole process is not unnatural or strained; B fits his movement harmoniously and continuously into that of A without resisting or striving.

      The above idea gives rise to a closely related law, the Law of Noninterference with Nature, which teaches a gung fu man to forget about himself and follow his opponent (strength) instead of himself; he does not move ahead but responds to the fitting influence. The basic idea is to defeat the opponent by yielding to him and using his own strength. That is why a gung fu man never asserts himself against his opponent, and never puts himself in frontal opposition to the direction of his opponent’s force. When being attacked, he will not resist, but will control the attack by swinging with it. This law illustrates the principles of nonresistance and nonviolence, which were founded on the idea that the branches of a fir tree snap under the weight of the snow, while the simple reeds, weaker but more supple, can overcome it. In the I’Ching, Confucius illustrated this: “To stand in the stream is a datum of nature; one must follow and flow with it.”⁴ In the Tao Teh Ching, the gospel of Taoism, Lao-tzu pointed out to us the value of gentleness. Contrary to common belief, the Yin principle, as softness and pliableness, is to be associated with life and survival. Because he can yield, a man can survive. In contrast, the Yang principle, which is assumed to be rigorous and hard, makes a man break under pressure (note the last two lines, which make a fair description of revolution as many generations of people have seen it):

      Alive, a man is supple, soft;

      In death, unbending, rigorous.

      All creatures, grass and trees, alive

      Are plastic but are pliant too,

      And dead, are friable and dry.

      Unbending rigor is the mate of death,

      And yielding softness, company of life;

      Unbending soldiers get no victories;

      The stiffest tree is readiest for the ax.

      The strong and mighty topple from their place;

      The soft and yielding rise above them all.⁵

      The way of movement in gung fu is closely related to the movement of the mind. In fact, the mind is trained to direct the movement of the body. The mind wills and the body behaves. As the mind is to direct the bodily movements, the way to control the mind is important; but it is not an easy task. In his book, Glen Clark mentioned some of the emotional disturbances in athletics:

      Every conflicting center, every extraneous, disrupting, decentralizing emotion, jars the natural rhythm and reduces a man’s efficiency on the gridiron far more seriously than physical jars and bodily conflicts can ever jar him. The emotions that destroy the inner rhythm of a man are hatred, jealousy, lust, envy, pride, vanity, covetousness and fear.⁶

      To perform the right technique in gung fu, physical loosening must be continued in a mental and spiritual loosening, so as to make the mind not only agile but free. In order to accomplish this, a gung fu man has to remain quiet and calm and to master the principle of no-mindedness (wuhsin). No-mindedness is not a blank mind that excludes all emotions; nor is it simply calmness and quietness of mind. Although quietude and calmness are important, it is the “non-graspingness” of the mind that mainly constitutes the principle of no-mindedness. A gung fu man employs his mind as a mirror—it grasps nothing and it refuses nothing; it receives but does not keep. As Alan Watts puts it, the no-mindedness is “a state of wholeness in which the mind functions freely and easily, without the sensation of a second mind or ego standing over it with a club.”⁷

      What he means is, let the mind think what it likes without interference by the separate thinker or ego within oneself. So long as it thinks what it wants, there is absolutely no effort in letting it go; and the disappearance of the effort to let go is precisely the disappearance of the separate thinker. There is nothing to try to do, for whatever comes up moment by moment is accepted, including nonacceptance. No-mindedness is then not being without emotion or feeling, but being one in whom feeling is not sticky or blocked. It is a mind immune to emotional influences. “Like this river, everything is flowing on ceaselessly without cessation or standing still.”⁸ No-mindedness is employing the whole mind as we use the eyes when we rest them upon various objects but make no special effort to take anything in. Chuang-tzu, the disciple of Lao-tzu, stated:

      The baby looks at things all day without winking, that is because his eyes are not focused on any particular object. He goes without knowing where he is going, and stops without knowing what he is doing. He merges himself with the surroundings and moves along with it. These are the principles of mental hygiene.⁹

      Therefore, concentration in gung fu does not have the usual sense of restricting the attention to a single sense object; it is simply a quiet awareness of whatever happens to be here and now. Such concentration can be illustrated by an audience at a football game; instead of a concentrated attention on the player who has the ball, they have an awareness of the whole football field. In a similar way, a gung fu man’s mind is concentrated by not dwelling on any particular part of the opponent. This is especially true when he deals with many opponents. For instance, suppose ten men are attacking him, each in succession ready to strike him down. As soon as one is disposed of, he will move on to another without permitting the mind to “stop” with any. However rapidly one blow may follow another he leaves no time to intervene between the two. Every one of the ten will thus be successively and successfully dealt with. This is possible only when the mind moves