A Different Perspective on Life Philosophy: Zhuangzi’s “Death-Life (死生)” Thought

Abstract

Modern society, dominated by rationalism, has led to the hollowing out of life’s meaning. In response to this predicament, the question of how to transcend instrumental rationality and reconstruct an understanding of human conditions becomes crucial. Among pre-Qin thinkers, Zhuangzi offers the most profound exploration of life-related issues. His “death-life” thought embodies unique philosophical implications, revealing the fluidity, wholeness, and infinity of life. The word order of “death-life” underscores the idea of the transformation of things (wuhua, 物化), illuminating two practical pathways toward the infinite circulation of life. This understanding of life resonates with Henri Bergson’s life philosophy in their shared reverence for life’s infinite flow through intuition. However, they diverge in their views on time and subjectivity. Despite their differences, their ideas can complement each other. Integrating Bergson’s spirit of creative evolution with Zhuangzi’s carefree and detached mindset may help dissolve modern society’s obsession with utilitarian goals, allowing individuals to engage in active creation while simultaneously embracing the spontaneity and boundless possibilities of each present moment. This synthesis provides valuable insights for reconstructing life’s meaning in contemporary society.

1. Introduction

Instrumental rationality has driven modern society toward calculability and controllability, reducing human existence to an “efficiency machine” and fragmenting life into quantifiable units, ultimately leading to the hollowing out of life’s meaning.1 In response to this modern predicament, how can we transcend the constraints of instrumental rationality and reconstruct an understanding of human conditions? Revisiting traditional thought may provide new perspectives. Mou Zongsan argues that the central concern of Chinese philosophy lies in the problem of life, emphasizing how to regulate, operate, and settle life (Mou 1997, p. 14). Zhuangzi offers the most profound and distinctive exploration of life among classical texts, making it a focal point for scholars both in China and abroad.

Western scholars, when exploring Zhuangzi’s thought on life, often focus on how he addresses death. For instance, A. C. Graham, in Chuang-tzu: The Inner Chapters, discusses “death and mutilation” and argues that Zhuangzi transcends life and death through self-liberation (Graham 1981, pp. 23, 24). Fraser suggests that Zhuangzi represents the Daoist approach of integrating death into nature, distinguishing it from the Confucian perspective found in works such as Xunzi (Fraser 2013). Farrugia contends that Zhuangzi resolves the problem of death by embracing complete dissolution and seeking immortality as an ideal (Farrugia 2015). In contrast, Chinese scholars tend to focus more on how Zhuangzi conceptualizes life. Representative scholars such as Ye Haibo explicitly argue that “Zhuangzi’s philosophy is a unique philosophy of life; its primary significance lies in its interpretation of life’s ontology, its understanding of life’s reality, and its resolution of life’s problems” (Ye 1990, p. 1). Liu Xiaogan, adopting a Qi-transformation perspective, explores Zhuangzi’s philosophy of life while also discussing its connections with traditional Chinese medicine. He further argues that Zhuangzi affirms the value of life (sheng, 生) (Liu 2010, pp. 208–12).

Since the critiques of rationalism initiated by Schopenhauer and Nietzsche, Western philosophy has gradually shifted its focus toward the dimension of life experience. The French philosopher Henri Bergson proposed the core concept of élan vital (vital impulse), which propelled the development of life philosophy to its peak. Although there is no direct connection between Bergson’s thought and Zhuangzi, their similar understandings of life have inspired numerous comparative studies. For instance, Jiang Guobao argues that Zhuangzi’s thought and Bergson’s notion of “life” share an essential spiritual commonality (Jiang 1990, p. 126). Fang Dongmei further suggests that Zhuangzi’s perspective on life aligns with Bergson’s élan vital, particularly in their shared emphasis on the fluidity of life and the vibrant dynamism of the cosmos (Fang 2019, pp. 80–92).

Existing research has provided a wealth of materials and perspectives for exploring Zhuangzi’s philosophy of life, especially in comparative studies of Eastern and Western life philosophies, achieving significant progress in examining their shared concerns. However, philosophical thought is not only expressed at the level of concepts and theories but is also often manifested through linguistic structures. In Zhuangzi, an intriguing phenomenon can be observed: while modern scholarship typically discusses the relationship between life and death using the term “life-death” (shengsi, 生死),2 the text of Zhuangzi consistently adheres to the expression “death-life” (sisheng, 死生). The reversal of the word order from “死生” to “生死” also appears in international scholarship. For example, in Zhuangzi: The Complete Writings, Brook Ziporyn translates the phrase “死生为一條” from De Chong Fu as “life and death as a single string” (Ziporyn 2020, p. 48),3 shifting the original sequence from “death-life” to “life-death”. Does this choice of word order imply a distinctive understanding of life? Currently, this issue remains largely unexplored in academic discourse.

In Chinese, word order plays a crucial role in semantic expression. As Li Jinxi notes, “Chinese is an analytic language where meaning is primarily conveyed through word placement” (J. Li 1992, p. 18). The I Ching, in the Gen hexagram, states: “Speech has order（言有序）”,4 reflecting the ancient emphasis on linguistic sequence. From the perspective of modern Chinese usage, “life-death” and “death-life” function as antonymous parallel compounds with similar core meanings (both referring to “life and death”). However, this superficial “equivalence” tends to obscure deeper issues related to cognitive orientation and philosophical stance embedded in word order. This paper examines the sequencing of “death-life”, analyzes the distinctiveness of its syntactic structure, and explores how Zhuangzi employs linguistic structures to convey its understanding of life.

Furthermore, this study compares Zhuangzi’s view of life with Bergson’s life philosophy, particularly their shared emphasis on intuitive perception and fluid transformation, as well as their divergences concerning time and subjectivity. While the analysis centers on the concept of si-sheng (“death and life”) in the Zhuangzi, Bergson’s thought is employed methodologically to shed light on the generative view of life embedded in its word order. This study is not a comparative philosophy in the strict sense, but rather a text-based inquiry into the Zhuangzi, using selective comparison and conceptual resonance to explore convergences and differences between Chinese and Western understandings of life.

2. The Interpretation of the Word Order “Death-Life” in Zhuangzi

Throughout Zhuangzi, the expression death-life, which places “death” before “life”, is consistently used. Other pre-Qin classics such as The Book of Songs (Shijing 《詩經》), Rites of Zhou (Zhouli 《周禮》), Discourses of the States (Guoyu 《國語》), and Strategies of the Warring States (Zhanguoce 《戰國策》) largely follow this ordering as well. Even texts like Mozi (《墨子》), Lüshi Chunqiu (《呂氏春秋》), Guanzi (《管子》), and Sunzi (《孫子》) invariably employ death-life rather than life-death when referring to life and death.5 The absolute consistency in the use of death-life across these texts suggests that early Chinese literature overwhelmingly preferred death-life over life-death in discussing life and death, indicating that the two expressions are not interchangeable.

2.1. Zhuangzi’s Conscious Interpretation of the Word Order “Death-Life”

In Zhuangzi, death-life can be interpreted as “life and death”, used to explain the relationship between these two states. Across the text, there are 24 occurrences of death-life, which collectively articulate three key propositions: (1) Death and life are fated (ontological dimension), (2) death and life are interconnected as a unified whole (epistemological dimension), and (3) death and life remain unchanging to the enlightened individual (practical dimension). See

Table 1. Specific usage of death-life in Zhuangzi.6

Core Proposition	Example	Source
Category 1: Death and life are fated (2 instances)	Death and life, surviving and perishing… these are transformations of events, the proceedings of fate. (死生、存亡……是事之變、命之行也).	De Chong Fu (德充符, Fragmentations Betokening Full Virtuosity) (Guo 2013, P. 212)
	Death and life are fated (死生, 命也).	Da Zong Shi (大宗師, The Great Source as Teacher) (Guo 2013, P. 241)
Category 2: Death and life are interconnected as a unified whole (12 instances)	Death and life as a single string (死生为一條).	De Chong Fu (德充符, Fragmentations Betokening Full Virtuosity) (Guo 2013, P. 205)
	Who konws the single body formed by death and life, existence and nonexistence? I will be his friend (孰知死生存亡之一體者, 吾與之友矣)!	Da Zong Shi (大宗師, The Great Source as Teacher) (Guo 2013, P. 258)
	Which is death and which is life, what comes before and what comes after?(又惡知死生先後之所在)?	Da Zong Shi (大宗師, The Great Source as Teacher) (Guo 2013, P. 268)
	All things comprise a single treasury, that death and life comprise a signle shape (萬物一府, 死生同狀).	Tian Di (天地, Heaven and Earth) (Guo 2013, P. 407)
	At death’s door after getting no cooked food for a week (七日不火食, 死生相與鄰).	Tian Yun (天運, The Spinning of the Heavens) (Guo 2013, P. 512)
	Death and life are day and night (死生为晝夜).	Zhi Le (至樂, Reaching Utmost Happiness) (Guo 2013, P. 616)
	Coming to see death and life, endings and beginnings as day and night (死生終始將为晝夜).	Tian Zi Fang (田子方, Sir Squarescope of the Fields) (Guo 2013, P. 714)
	Since death and life follow one another, what is there to worry about (若死生为徒, 吾又何患)?	Zhi Bei You (知北遊, Knowinghood Journeyed North) (Guo 2013, P. 733)
	Do the death and life depend on something else (死生有待邪? 皆有所一體)?.	Zhi Bei You (知北遊, Knowinghood Journeyed North) (Guo 2013, P. 763)
	Whoever knows how to hold together being and non-being, death and life, in a signle grasp, he will be my friend (孰知有無死生之一守者, 吾與之为友).	Gengsang Chu (庚桑楚) (Guo 2013, P. 802)
	Our own motions and stoppings, our deaths and our lives, our falls and our arisings—even these are never done by ourselves (其死生也, 其廢起也, 此又非其所以也).	Tian Di (天地, Heaven and Earth) (Guo 2013, P. 428)
	Death and life are not distant, and yet the structure fitting them together (死生非遠也, 理不可睹).	Zeyang (則陽) (Guo 2013, P. 917)
Category 3: Death and life remain unchanging to the enlightened individual (7 instances)	Even death and life can do nothing to change him—much less the sproutings of benefit and harm. (死生無變於己, 而況厲害之端乎).	Qi Wu Lun (齊物論, Equalizing Assessments of Things) (Guo 2013, P. 96)
	Death and life are a great matter, but they are unable to alter him (死生亦大矣, 而不得與之變).	De Chong Fu (德充符, Fragmentations Betokening Full Virtuosity) (Guo 2013, P. 189)
	The frights and shocks of death and life have no way to enter his breast (死生驚懼不入乎其胸中).	Da Sheng (達生, Fathoming Life) (Guo 2013, P. 636)
	Neither death nor life entered the heart of that clansman of Youyu (虞氏死生不入於心).	Sir Squarescope of Tian Zi Fang (田子方, Sir Squarescope of the Fields) (Guo 2013, P. 719)
	Death and life are a great matter, but they effected no change in such people (死生亦大矣, 而無變乎己).	Tian Zi Fang (田子方, Sir Squarescope of the Fields) (Guo 2013, P. 727)
	An escaped prisoner may climb great heights without fear, for he has forgotten all about death and life (胥靡登高而不懼, 遺死生也).	Gengsang Chu (庚桑楚) (Guo 2013, P. 815)
	Befriending whoever can put death and life outside themselves, free of any end or beginning (与外死生、无终始者为友).	Tianxia (天下,The Whole World) (Guo 2013, P. 1099)
Category 4: Other instances (3 instances)	There was a shaman In Zheng named Allseasons who could discern whether people could live or die, survive or perish (鄭有神巫曰季鹹, 知人之死生).	Ying Di Wang (應帝王, Sovereign Responses for Ruling Powers) (Guo 2013, P. 297)
	Creatures have death and life (物有死生).	Qiushui (秋水, Autumn Waters) (Guo 2013, P. 584)
	Things die, are born, go round, go square, and no one knows the root of it all (物已死生方圓, 莫知其根也).	Zhi Bei You (知北遊, Knowinghood Journeyed North) (Guo 2013, P. 735)

for details. Among these, discussions on the epistemological proposition—that death and life are interconnected—are the most abundant, constituting approximately half of all occurrences. This emphasis highlights Zhuangzi’s concern with this issue. Unlike the other two propositions, this particular argument heavily relies on the arrangement of linguistic structures. Analyzing this aspect allows for a deeper exploration of the distinctive nature of the death-life word order.

People typically understand life by starting from “life”, viewing it as the point of origin.7 However, Zhuangzi critically reflects on the conventional order of life’s sequence, even regarding “doubt about the beginning” (yi shi, 疑始) as the starting point for enlightenment. In the chapter Da Zong Shi (《大宗師》), when Nanbo Zikui inquired about the transmission of the Dao, Nüyu traced the lineage back through nine generations, ultimately identifying the origin of Dao as yi shi—doubt about the beginning. This tracing not only highlights the fundamental role of doubt in the cognitive process but also underscores Zhuangzi’s particular concern with order, especially regarding the sequence of life’s beginning. The textual discussion in Zhuangzi explicitly addressing the order of life and death is as follows:

“Life is the companion of death, and death is the beginning of life—who can discern their order? Human life is the gathering of qi; when gathered, it is life; when dispersed, it is death. If life and death are but companions, what is there for me to fear! 生也死之徒，死也生之始，孰知其紀！人之生，氣之聚也，聚則為生，散則為死。若死生為徒，吾又何患”

(Zhi Bei You 《知北遊》)

This passage primarily focuses on the interpretation of the words “徒 (tu)”, “始 (shi)”, and “紀 (ji)”. While there is no dispute regarding the meaning of “始” as “beginning”, the interpretations of the other two characters remain open to question. The traditional explanation of “徒” as “the same kind” aligns with the later statement that “all things are one (萬物一也)”,8 yet it appears somewhat incongruous in the specific textual context. The parallel structure of “生也死之徒” and “死也生之始” suggests that “徒” should correspond to “始”, but “the same kind” does not conceptually match “beginning”.

Furthermore, inconsistencies in scholarly translations of the two occurrences of “徒” highlight the interpretative challenge. According to the Shuowen Jiezi (《說文解字》), “徒” originally meant “to walk”. During the Zhou dynasty, chariot warfare was prevalent, and soldiers on chariots were referred to as “甲士 (jia shi)”, while those following behind on foot were called “徒”. This usage can be seen in Zuo Zhuan, Zhaogong Year 25 (《左传·昭公二十五年》), where it states, “leading the infantry forward (帅徒以往)”. The meaning of “徒” as “infantry” derives from its original sense of walking, and it subsequently developed multiple extended meanings based on the semantic component of “following” (Zhang 2004).

If “生也死之徒” is understood metaphorically, emphasizing “徒” in the sense of “following”, it would suggest that “life follows after death, and death is the beginning of life”. In this reading, “死生为徒” conveys the idea that life and death follow one another. This interpretation is logically coherent and provides a more natural connection within the textual context.

Does Zhuangzi’s statement “Death is the beginning of life (死也生之始)” employ the rhetorical device of stating the truth in a paradoxical manner? This expression appears to suggest that death precedes life, emphasizing the primacy of death. However, in the chapter Zhi Bei You (《知北遊》)”, Zhuangzi also states, “One first transforms into life, then transforms into death (已化而生, 又化而死)”, which presents a sequence where life precedes death. Do these two perspectives contradict each other? Which, ultimately, comes first? The key lies in the interpretation of the word “紀”.

Many previous scholars have interpreted “紀” as referring to “guiding principles”, while Chen Guying understands it as “law” or “regularity”, rendering the phrase as “Who knows its underlying law!” (Chen 2011, pp. 599–601). However, if Zhuangzi is indeed expressing an attitude of unknowability regarding regularity, then the earlier assertion—”Life follows death, and death is the beginning of life (生也死之徒，死也生之始)”—which seemingly reveals a cyclical law, would appear superfluous.

The Fangyan (《方言》) records that “緤 (xie)”, “末 (mo)”, and “紀 (ji)” all mean “緒 (xu)”, which in the southern Chu dialect is also called “端 (duan)” (Yang 1985). In the Chu dialect, “紀” signifies “端”, meaning an origin or starting point.9 Interpreting “孰知其紀” as “Who knows its beginning?” not only aligns with the preceding discussion on the sequence of life and death but also resonates with other passages in Zhuangzi and related classical texts.

Zhuangzi repeatedly emphasizes the unknowability of the sequence of life and death. In the parable of Mengsun Cai mourning his mother, it is stated that those who handle death well “do not know the reason for life, do not know the reason for death, do not know what comes first, and do not know what comes after (不知所以生, 不知所以死, 不知就先, 不知就後)”. Similarly, in the story of Zisang Hu’s death, there is an expression of deep skepticism toward the order of life and death: “How could one know the precedence of life and death? (惡知死生先後之所在)” This contemplation of the sequence of life and death is not an isolated case. In the Shanghai Museum Bamboo Manuscripts, Fanwu Liuxing (《凡物流形》), slips 1 and 2, there is also a reflection on how all things take form and how life and death follow one another, demonstrating confusion and inquiry into the sequence of life and death rather than accepting a simple linear conception of life preceding death (Ma 2008, pp. 223–24). Thus, both Zhuangzi and Fanwu Liuxing illustrate the uncertainty of the sequence of life and death in early Chinese thought and explore the transformation of all things. This, in turn, reflects a unique understanding of life’s origin and existence as having neither a definite beginning nor an absolute ending.

Regarding this, the Zhuangzi directly discusses the notion of life’s boundlessness, without a definite beginning or ending. For instance, it states, “Life emerges from somewhere, and death returns to somewhere; the beginning and the ending oppose each other without a discernible origin, and no one knows their ultimate limit (生有所乎萌，死有所乎歸，始終相反乎无端，而莫知其所窮)”. Similarly, it asserts, “What has a beginning also has a state in which there has never been a beginning… (有始也者，有未始有始也者)”, and “Things themselves undergo birth and death, transformation between square and round, yet no one knows their root (物己死生方圓，莫知其根)”.

Moreover, the text employs metaphors to illustrate this view, such as likening “life and death to day and night (死生为晝夜)”, and further stating that “day and night alternate before us, yet no one knows their inception (日夜相代乎前，而莫知其所萌)”. These discussions collectively point to the idea that life’s existence is without a definite beginning or ending.

Guo Xiang (郭象) and Xiang Xiu (向秀), in their commentary on Qiu Shui, interpret the phrase “Dao has no beginning or ending, while things have life and death” as meaning “life and death are the infinite transformations”. This interpretation demonstrates their precise grasp of how the phrase “death-life” in Zhuangzi conveys the idea of endless transformations in existence.

Zhuangzi often uses the phrase of “going-coming (wanglai, 往來)” as a metaphor for the transformation of death-life. The I Ching states, “Endless coming and going is called continuity (往來不窮謂之通)”, and “When things reach an impasse, they change; with change comes continuity; with continuity comes endurance (窮則變，變則通，通則久)”. This idea of ceaseless cycles and perpetual motion also applies to Zhuangzi’s understanding of life and death. In the text, “death” is frequently juxtaposed with “going”. For instance, Lao Dan describes death as “the soul and spirit depart, the body follows, and one ultimately returns to the great whole (魂魄將往，乃身從之，乃大歸乎)”. Similarly, when Zilai is on the verge of death, he laments, “Where can I go where death does not reach (惡乎往而不可哉)”. Both cases employ “going” as a metaphor for death.

Zhang Bo points out that the word order of “going-coming” reflects a temporal sequence of “going first, then coming”, which explains why “going” precedes “coming” in this construction (Zhang 1996). This perspective may shed light on why Zhuangzi tends to use “going” as a metaphor for death. By situating death-life within the conceptual framework of going-coming, Zhuangzi not only emphasizes the infinite transformation of life but also demonstrates a deliberate choice in his use of the word order “death-life” rather than “life-death”.

The “death is the beginning of life “ in Zhuangzi reflects its conscious use of the word order of “death-life. “Further combined with the understanding of “Tracing back to the origin and returning to the ending, thus one understands the discourse of death and life. “ it can clearly show the infinite circulation and endless circulation contained in the word order of “death-life”.

2.2. The Explicit Interpretation of the Word Order “Death-Life”

In pre-Qin texts, an explicit explanation of the word order “death-life” can be found in the Xici Shang (《易傳·係辭上》) of the I Ching: “Tracing back to the origin and returning to the ending, thus one understands the discourse of death and life (原始反終，故知死生之說)”. Here, the relationship between “ending” and “beginning” is used to explain the relationship between “death” and “life”. This understanding is not an isolated case. Other pre-Qin texts frequently intertwine “death-life” with “ending-beginning (終始)”, as seen in phrases such as “Death and life, ending and beginning, are like day and night (死生終始將為晝夜, Zhuangzi, Tian Zi Fang)”; “The upper travels with the creator, while the lower travels with those who do not care about death and life and the ending or beginning as friends (上與造物者遊，而下與外死生、無終始者為友, Zhuangzi, Tianxia)“ and “So that death and life, ending and beginning, all may conform appropriately and be inclined toward goodness (使死生終始莫不稱宜而好善, Xunzi 《荀子》, Lunli 《論禮》)”. “The structural similarity between “death-life” and “ending-beginning” suggests that their meanings and usage contexts are highly overlapping. To fully comprehend the word order of “death-life”, it is necessary to analyze it in relation to “ending-beginning”.

The Xunzi, in the chapter Wangzhi (《王製》), states: “What begins must end, and what ends must begin, like a ring with no starting point (始則終,終則始,若環之無端也)”. This passage explicitly asserts that “ending” implies continuation rather than termination, emphasizing the cyclical nature of “ending-beginning” as a whole. A similar metaphor appears in Zhuangzi: “The beginning and the ending are like a ring; one cannot find their sequence (始卒若環,莫得其倫, Zhuangzi, Yuyan)”. Another passage states: “Following the sequence in their mutual alignment, balancing their alternating motion—when exhausted, they reverse; when ending, they begin (隨序之相理，橋運之相使，窮則反，終則始)”. The ancient term “橋 (qiao)” refers to a counterbalanced device used for drawing water (桔槔, jiegao), which moves in an alternating motion—rising and falling repeatedly. When exhausted, it reverses; when ending, it begins (Zhong 2002, p. 624).10 Zhuangzi uses the movement of a jiegao to metaphorically illustrate the principle of cyclical development in all things.

The term “ending-beginning” frequently appears in pre-Qin texts in the forms of “when the ending is reached, it returns to the beginning (終則復始)” and “tracing back to the origin and returning to the ending (原始反終)”, highlighting its close association with the idea of recurrence. Zhuangzi elaborates on this theme multiple times, stating: “Reversal and repetition, ending and beginning, one cannot discern their limits” (反復終始，不知端倪, Zhuangzi, Da Zong Shi); “Beginning and ending are mutually reversing without a fixed point” (始終相反乎無端, Zhuangzi, Tian Zi Fang); and “Fluctuation and alternation, fullness and emptiness—when the ending is reached, there is a new beginning” (消息盈虛，終則有始, Zhuangzi, Qiushui). The concept of “recurrence” is also prevalent in Laozi, as seen in: “All things arise together; I observe their return” (萬物並作，吾以觀復, Laozi, Chapter 16); “I do not know its name, so I call it Dao. Forcibly naming it, I call it Great. Greatness leads to going forth, going forth leads to distance, distance leads to return” (吾不知其名，字之曰道，強為之名曰大。大曰逝，逝曰遠，遠曰反, Laozi, chap. 25); and “Reversal is the movement of the Dao” (反者道之动, Laozi, chap. 40). The Yijing abstracts this idea further, structuring its hexagram statements into the three stages of “beginning–upper–communication (初—上—通)”, where “‘communication’ signifies transformation, adaptation, and recurrence. It marks the endpoint of one cycle and the starting point of the next, closely linking ‘upper’ with ‘beginning,’ thus perpetuating the cycle indefinitely”. (Chen 1996). Academic discussions on this topic generally acknowledge that cyclical recurrence is a fundamental characteristic of traditional Chinese thought (Meng 1988).

The Lüshi Chunqiu, in the chapter Guisheng (《貴生》), states: “What is called death is when there is no longer anything that knows, a return to the state before birth” (所謂死者，無有所以知，復其未生也, Lüshi Chunqiu, Guisheng). Here, the term “return (復)” conveys the meaning of reversion, implying that “death” is not a one-way termination but a process that reciprocally generates “life”. Death and life form a continuously cycling relationship through their mutual transformation and flow. This is echoed in Zhuangzi’s discussion of death: “There is no beginning that is not also an ending” (無始而非卒也, Zhuangzi, Shanmu).11 Guo Xiang and Xiang Xiu interpret this as follows: “What is a beginning today was an ending yesterday; thus, what is called a beginning is in fact also an ending. This speaks to the boundlessness of transformation (於今為始者，于昨為卒，則所謂始者即是卒矣.言變化之無窮)” (Guo 2013, p. 611). There is no “beginning” that is not also a “past ending;” “beginning” gives rise to “ending”, and “ending” in turn transforms into “beginning”. Ending and beginning perpetually follow one another, forming an unceasing cycle.

Hu Zifeng’s interpretation of “ending-beginning” is particularly enlightening. He analyzes the passage in Liezi (《列子》), “The ending and beginning of things are initially boundless. What is called a beginning may be an ending, and what is called an ending may be a beginning—who can discern their sequence?” (Liezi, Tangwen), arguing that “the transition between ending and beginning cannot be sharply divided… If there were a definitive moment of cessation, progress would come to a halt. The continuous succession of things permits no such limitation” (Hu 1989, pp. 64, 65). Furthermore, he emphasizes the significance of using “ending-beginning” rather than “beginning-ending”, asserting that “ending-beginning represents the eternal Dao of Heaven and Earth”. The inseparability of “ending” and “beginning” ensures the perpetual succession and unceasing continuation of all things.

The seamless continuity of “ending” and “beginning” embodies an enduring principle already explicitly expressed in the I Ching. The Tuan Commentary (《彖傳》) states: “The way of Heaven and Earth is perpetual and unceasing. It is beneficial to advance; when the ending is reached, there is a new beginning” (天地之道,恆久而不已也.利有攸往,終則有始也, I Ching, Tuan Commentary). Similarly, the Shuogua (《說卦》), in explaining the Gen hexagram (《艮卦》), notes the following: “Gen represents the northeast, where all things come to their ending and to their beginning” (艮,東北之卦也.萬物之所成中而所成始也, I Ching, Gen hexagram). These passages indicate that “ending” and “beginning” are interconnected and successive, illustrating the ceaseless cyclic transformation of all things in Heaven and Earth.

Considering the above analysis of the word order “ending-beginning”, we can better understand the I Ching statement: “Tracing back to the origin and returning to the ending, thus one understands the discourse of death and life”. Kong Yingda annotates this passage as follows: “Tracing the origin of things and returning to their final stage, comprehensively encompassing all fates of beginning and ending; thus, one understands the patterns of death and life” (X. Li 1999, p. 266). Zhu Xi offers a similar interpretation: “By tracing the origin, one understands the cause of life; by reflecting upon the ending, one understands the cause of death” (Zhu 2010, p. 76). Both scholars correspond “beginning” with “life” and “ending” with “death”, emphasizing the comprehension of life and death through the investigation of origins and terminations. However, such interpretations risk treating “beginning” and “ending” as fixed points, neglecting their dynamic interplay and mutual transformation—where “ending” (death) emerges from “beginning” (life) and simultaneously reverts to “beginning” (life).

In contrast, the explanations of the Cheng brothers better capture the cyclical nature of “ending-beginning” and “death-life”. They compare them to the rotation of the four seasons, emphasizing the perpetual alternation of change: “If one traces the beginning as spring, winter must necessarily follow; if one reflects on winter as the ending, spring must inevitably return. Death and life follow the same pattern” (Cheng and Cheng 2004, p. 324).

The notion that “ending” returns to “beginning” and “death” reverts to “life”, along with the mutual transformation of “ending” and “beginning” and “death” and “life”, reveals that the progression of life and all things is not a fixed linear process but a dynamic system of continuous cycles. The word order of “ending-beginning” and “death-life” thus conveys a vision of life’s wholeness, fluidity, and infinite continuity.

Ultimately, the I Ching principle, “Tracing back to the origin and returning to the ending, thus one understands the discourse of death and life”, underscores the holistic and cyclic nature of life, emphasizing the continuity and boundlessness of change. Similarly, Zhuangzi’s assertion that “death is the beginning of life” reflects the infinite transformation of existence, rather than a fixed demarcation between life and death. This statement also manifests Zhuangzi’s conscious and deliberate use of the word order “death-life”.

3. The Dual Pathways of Developing the Thought of “Death-Life” in Zhuangzi

The word order “death-life” in Zhuangzi is not merely a linguistic structure but also implies a profound understanding of the nature of life—namely, that life is not a fixed state but a process of endless transformation from death to life, embodying the carefree movement (xiaoyao, 逍遙). From the perspective of “wuhua” (物化, transformation of things), two pathways can be traced that lead to this view of life.

3.1. The Pathway of Infinite Transformation of Life in the Context of Death

The concept of wuhua in Zhuangzi is closely linked to the word order “death-life”. Ikeda Tomohisa argues that “’wuhua’ refers specifically to the transformation of things, encompassing the changes of death and rebirth” (Ikeda 2009, pp. 268–72). He thus confines ‘wuhua’ primarily to the dimension of death and rebirth. However, the mutual transition between death and life represents only the superficial meaning of “wuhua;” at a deeper level, it involves a subject’s liberation (wuzhi, 無滯) through the transformative process of life and death via external things. The former manifests as “wuhua” in the context of death, while the latter reveals “wuhua” within the experience of life itself.

From the perspective of the transformation of “qi” (氣, vital energy), the mutual transition of death and life (死也生之始—”death is the beginning of life”) constitutes the fundamental essence of “wuhua”. In the parable of Zhi Bei You, the questioner seeks wisdom from the Yellow Emperor. Through the mouth of the Yellow Emperor, Zhuangzi aims to address the common affliction (huan, 患) of human beings: the attachment to life and aversion to death. He states, “One transforms and is born, then transforms and dies. Living beings mourn death, and humans grieve over it”. Therefore, Zhuangzi begins with the ultimate affliction—death—and seeks a way to attain “di zhi xuan jie (帝之懸解, release from the bonds of Heaven)”. He regards death as a fundamental mode of wuhua, stating that “death itself is transformation” (《天道》). Life and death are merely the gathering and dispersing of “qi”: “When it gathers, it is life; when it disperses, it is death. When combined, it forms a body; when dispersed, it returns to its beginning” (《達生》). Human death and the dissipation of “qi” do not signify an endpoint but rather a new beginning—a return to nature and a renewed participation in the ceaseless process of “wuhua”.

When discussing the origin of life, Zhuangzi responds with expressions such as “Who knows where death and life begin and end (惡知死生先後之所在)?” “Who knows its origin (孰知其紀)?” and “One cannot know its limits (不知端倪)”. These rhetorical questions not only express reverence for creation but also reflect an open attitude toward the infinite possibilities that follow death.

While the transition between life and death is of great significance to the individual, from the perspective of “qi”, humans are merely a minor part of its endless transformations. In Da Zong Shi, a parable describes a blacksmith forging metal when suddenly the metal exclaims, “Make me into a ‘Moye’ (镆铘) treasure sword!” The blacksmith considers this an inauspicious omen. Zhuangzi then draws an analogy to the Creator molding humans—if a form were to cry out, “Make me into a human!” the Creator would likewise consider it inauspicious. Why is this perceived as ominous? This is key to understanding the phrase “now it has taken the form of a human” (今一犯人之形). Wang Xianqian explains this as follows: “If one happens to take the form of a human and then cherishes and reveres it as something exceptional among all things, the Creator will inevitably see it as an inauspicious sign” (Wang 1987, p. 64). In other words, humans are merely an accidental category in the grand flow of natural transformation and are not inherently superior to other beings. If one clings to the supremacy of humanity and mistakes contingency for necessity, one disrupts the process of transformation and is thus considered inauspicious.

Typically, death is perceived as the termination of all possibilities. However, Zhuangzi refutes this notion through a unique philosophical experiment. Through the words of Zisi (子祀), he describes the potential transformations that follow death—one may become a “rooster”, a “crossbow pellet”, or a “chariot wheel” (《大宗师》). This transcends the human form and illustrates the boundless possibilities of transformation. This idea is further reinforced in the passage: “To assume the form of a human is but one stage in the myriad transformations, which have never had an ultimate limit—how could one possibly measure their joy?” (《大宗师》). Here, Zhuangzi suggests that the human form is merely one contingent phase in an endless flow of transformations, making life an inexhaustible source of joy. This argument not only dissolves human-centric attachment but also removes the constraints of death on possibility, thereby weakening one’s attachment to life itself. Zhuangzi asserts that “things have death and life but do not rely on their completion (物有死生, 不恃其成)”. Consequently, his discourse on “death-life” is not confined to any single entity or individual.

3.2. The Pathway of Infinite Transformation of Life in the Context of Existence

Zhuangzi not only dissolves the distinctiveness of “human” and presents the infinite possibilities of death-life transformation in the context of death, but also enables the transformation of the self (wo, 我) in the context of existence through the idea of “wu sang wo (吾喪我, I lose myself)”, thereby attaining a state of non-attachment (不滯). Scholarly interpretations primarily focus on the distinction between “wu (吾)” and “wo (我)”, often interpreting sang as “forgetting”.12 Shuowen Jiezi defines “sang (喪)” as “wang (亡, to lose)”, and philological studies suggest that its original meaning was “to lose” before later developing the connotation of “death”.13 Based on this, “wu sang wo” can be understood as “I lose or dissolve myself”. But how should this state be interpreted? The case of Zi Qi, who, in the state of “wu sang wo”, appeared like withered wood (槀木) and had a mind like dead ashes (死灰), raises the question: what does it mean to be a “living dead”?

Similar to when Zi Qi lost himself, Zi You asked him, “Where do you dwell?” This article argues that the correct interpretation should be corpse-dwelling (shiju, 尸居). Shuowen defines “shi (尸, corpse)” as “陳也, 象臥之形” (“to be displayed, resembling a reclining figure”). Takada Chushu further suggests that, although “shi” denotes a reclining posture, it also implies reliance on a couch or table (P. Li 2000, p. 667). This aligns with Zi Qi’s yinji erzhuo (隱幾而坐, leaning on the table and sitting still). Furthermore, Baihu Tong: Beng Hong explains “shi” as “尸之為言失也，陳也，失氣亡神，形體獨陳” (“A corpse means loss, display, loss of qi and spirit, with only the body remaining”). This closely resembles Zi You’s description of Zi Qi’s state and echoes “sang qi ou” (喪其偶, as if he had lost his counterpart). Thus, Zhuangzi here employs corpse-dwelling as a metaphor. However, unlike an actual corpse, Zhuangzi emphasizes that “dwelling as a corpse, yet the dragon manifests” (尸居而龍現; Zai You),14 indicating that shiju is not absolute stillness but rather stillness containing movement, akin to the I Ching statement: “Silent and unmoving, yet upon stimulation, it pervades all (寂然不動,感而遂通)”. Therefore, “sang wo” is not complete annihilation but still retains an aspect of preserving “wu”, wherein the self (wo) is dissolved in its fixed form, while the dynamic “wu” is preserved.

Traditional interpretations often associate “sang wo” with the meditative practice of “sitting in oblivion” (zuo wang, 坐忘).15 However, this article argues that “sang wo” can also be manifested through “you” (遊, wandering). “You” serves both as a practice (method) and as a state (goal), forming a mutually reinforcing structure with “sang wo”. As a negative practice, “sang wo” aims to dissolve the fixed cognitive self; as an affirmative existence, “you” embodies the fluid and unimpeded transformation of the subject.

In Ren Jian Shi (《人間世》), Confucius guides Yan Hui toward an empty mind (ti xu, 體虛), explaining it as “being able to enter the constraints of things without being affected by their names (能入遊其樊而無感其名)”, and further stating, “being without gates and without defenses, residing in the unavoidable” (wu men wu du, yi zhai er yu yu bude yi, 無門無毒,一宅而寓于不得已). The phrase “wu men wu du” has been interpreted diversely. If we consider “zhai” (宅, residing) and “yu” (寓, dwelling) in their original meanings of “temporary lodging” and “dwelling as a guest”, respectively, the phrase suggests a mode of existence that does not claim fixed ownership but instead dwells among myriad things as a guest.16 “Men” (門, gate) signifies “guarding”, and “du” (毒, defense) is linked to “dao” (壔, barrier), implying defense and protection (Guo 2013, p. 139). Thus, Zhuangzi advocates a way of being that does not rigidly guard or possess but instead roams the world in a non-possessive manner.

Names impose limitations on things, and only by discarding these limitations can one roam freely among all things. As all names originate from the most personal designation, ”wo”, the ultimate liberation from names must entail being unaffected by even the name of ”wo”. As Yan Hui states, “Before I was granted permission, it was truly I who restrained myself; after receiving permission, there was no longer an ‘I’”. Thus, “sang wo” clears the obstacles to wandering, while wandering continually reinforces “sang wo”, forming a non-possessive, fluid subjectivity that attains dynamic equilibrium.

The parable of “Zhuang Zhou dreaming of a butterfly” in Qi Wu Lun serves as the ultimate manifestation of this structural interplay. When the self-attachment (wozhi, 我執)—the fundamental distinction between “Zhou” and “the butterfly”—is completely dissolved (sangwo, 喪我), the subject in the process of “wuhua” naturally enters the state of wandering as expressed in the phrase “栩栩然胡蝶也” (fluttering like a butterfly). This state of wandering, in turn, confirms the completion of “sangwo”. The rhetorical question, “Am I Zhuang Zhou dreaming of being a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming of being Zhuang Zhou?” represents the culmination of this dual validation. In the flux between dreaming and waking, the self of Zhuang Zhou and the self of the butterfly undergo not annihilation but transformation. The subject is thereby engaged in a dynamic cycle of “borrowing—dissolution:” in the dream, Zhuang Zhou’s self dies and is reborn as the butterfly’s self; upon awakening, Zhuang Zhou’s self is restored while the butterfly’s self ceases to exist—only to be reversed once again—thus initiating an infinite metamorphosis of existence.

Zhuangzi takes “sheng zhe jia jie” (生者假借, life is borrowed) as a fundamental perspective, emphasizing that one should not depend on one’s completion (不恃其成) or be fixated on one’s form (不位乎其形) (Qiushui chapter). Through the ceaseless transformations described as “dreaming of being a bird soaring in the sky, dreaming of being a fish diving into the depths” (Da Zong Shi chapter), Zhuangzi advocates the practice of “wandering in selflessness (無己之遊)”. The underlying logic of this mode of existence is that each death (sangwo) of the self gives rise to the birth of a new subjectivity, which in turn must be dissolved in the next cycle of “wuhua”. If the self does not “die”, no new existence can emerge. Thus, subjectivity attains a dynamic transformation between formation and dissolution, realizing “shifting among different things and lodging in the same essence (假於異物, 拖於同體)” and “mutually inheriting through different forms (以不同形相禪)”. This highlights the uninterrupted flow of existence.

The prerequisite for equalizing things is that all things are open to borrowing and do not cling to their selfhood; only then can they be free and wandering at ease. The principle of “sangwo” aligns with spontaneously adjusting without forced compliance, offering without possessive attachment, akin to Zi Qi’s interpretation of “tianlai” (heavenly music), where all things harmonize in accordance with their nature. Only in this way can one “burst with vitality along with all things (與物為春)”, achieving ceaseless vitality. Even though one’s form may appear like “withered wood”, dry wood revives in spring; even though one’s mind may resemble “dead ashes”, ashes may reignite—thus revealing the infinite potential of life. In this way, “wuhua” in the context of lived experience unveils the subject’s transformation in the flux of life and death, embodying the meaning of merging with things while remaining unbound and unimpeded.

From an understanding of the semantic implications of death-life in Zhuangzi, one can discern the concrete operation of “wuhua”. If one were to substitute death-life with life-death and interpret “wuhua” accordingly, its conceptual framework might shift significantly. This issue reflects the special significance of the word order in death-life and Zhuangzi’s deliberate use of this sequence.

From the perspective of human existence and the self, life is necessarily a finite process from birth to death. However, Zhuangzi challenges the conventional assumption that life begins with birth and ends with death by asserting that “death is the beginning of life”. This perspective is deeply rooted in the Daoist cosmology of “qi” as an ever-circulating flow, emphasizing the boundless, infinite transformation of life. The “wuhua” indicated by death-life negates the uniqueness of humanity, thereby opening up infinite possibilities of transformation in the face of death. At the same time, it dissolves the fixed nature of the self, allowing the subject to undergo continuous transformation within lived experience, ultimately attaining the state of free and fluid wandering. Regardless of the path taken, what is manifested is the fluidity, totality, and infinite potential of life.

4. A Comparative Study of Zhuangzi’s Death-Life Thought and Bergson’s Vitalism

This section does not attempt a strict comparative philosophy study but instead adopts Bergson’s theory as a referential framework for interpreting the structural view of life embedded in the “death and life” formulation in the Zhuangzi. Zhuangzi’s insights into the fluidity of life and his affirmation of its infinite possibilities resonate with many aspects of Bergson’s vitalism, making a comparative study of the two feasible. However, due to the distinct theoretical backgrounds of their respective philosophies, their perspectives on life manifest in fundamentally different ways. Bergson’s theory emerged in an era of rapid advancements in biological genetics and other sciences, prompting his critique of rationalism’s tendency to objectify life through analytical methods. In contrast, Zhuangzi’s death-life thought was conceived within the context of early Chinese agrarian civilization, where humans and nature were perceived as an inseparable whole. This divergence in foundational worldviews results in distinct philosophical characteristics in their respective thought systems.

4.1. The Divergence Between “Wuwei Xiaoyao” and the Notion of an Active Subject in Creative Evolution

Zhuangzi and Bergson hold fundamentally opposing views on subjectivity: the former aims to dissolve attachment to the self and advocates aligning with the natural transformations of the “Dao”, while the latter emphasizes agency, positing that subjectivity plays a central role in creative evolutionary development. In Creative Evolution, Bergson introduces the concept of “élan vital”—a primordial life impulse that serves as an intrinsic driving force behind the continuous evolution, creation, and development of life. Bergson argues that the evolution of life cannot be fully explained by mechanistic or teleological models; rather, it is propelled by a spontaneous creative force that transcends physical and biological determinism. This creative force unfolds within “durée” (duration), unbound by static time (Bergson 2004, p. III). While he acknowledges the basic framework of evolutionary theory, he rejects interpretations that reduce evolution to mere natural selection or genetic mutation. Instead, he emphasizes the intrinsic creative impulse of life, which drives it toward higher forms of existence rather than merely adapting passively to the environment.

Bergson asserts, “Our personality is formed continuously through accumulated experiences and is in constant transformation” (Bergson 2004, p. 11). This suggests that, through memory and action, human beings become creators within the unfolding “durée”. While Bergson’s subject is integrated into the universal flow of life, it retains its agency, and freedom lies in the subject’s ability to transcend mechanical determinism and actively partake in the creative impulse of life. Consciousness, in his view, is not a passive recipient of external stimuli but an active force that, through the accumulation of memory and the renewal of experience, continuously shapes itself. Memory is not merely the storage of past experiences; it extends present consciousness and enables individuals to transcend momentary perception, forming a unique life experience through the interaction of past and present. This continuity afforded by memory allows the subject to perpetually generate new forms of selfhood within the flux of time.

In contrast, Zhuangzi’s understanding of subjectivity leans toward dissolving individual agency through the practices of “sangwo” and “zuowang”, advocating the abandonment of fixed conceptions of the self to achieve alignment with the natural transformations of the “Dao”, rather than actively driving evolution forward. Zhuangzi criticizes “jixin” (機心, calculative mind), arguing that deliberate planning and attachment to specific goals only serve to constrain the freedom of life. The parable of the Han Yin Zhangren in the Tiandi chapter, who insists on manually drawing water rather than using mechanical irrigation tools, illustrates Zhuangzi’s critique of instrumental rationality and its alienating effects on natural life: “Those who possess machines will have mechanical affairs; those who have mechanical affairs will have a calculative mind”. From Zhuangzi’s perspective, “jixin”, as a mode of calculative thinking, treats life as an object to be manipulated, thereby disrupting the innate simplicity of human nature and deviating from the natural way of life. Conversely, “I lose myself” signifies an unimpeded fluidity of subjectivity, culminating in the state where “the perfected person has no self, the spirit-like person exerts no effort, and the sage has no name”. In Zhuangzi’s death-life thought, true freedom is not found in active creation but in “ziran wuwei” (natural spontaneity and non-action), wherein life and death transform seamlessly according to the natural order of the cosmos, leading to a state of free and fluid wandering (xiaoyao).

Bergson explicitly states that his philosophy of life is closer to teleology (Bergson 2004, p. 49). Although he emphasizes that evolution is an unpredictable creative process, asserting that “life, in the course of evolution, has produced unforeseen forms in its development” (Bergson 2004, p. 85), his philosophy still retains an inherent drive toward progress or breakthrough. This forward momentum originates from life’s intrinsic creative impulse, which propels its continuous development. In contrast, Zhuangzi’s thought leans toward compliance with the natural flow rather than ascribing an active creative goal to life; it emphasizes the self-so (ziran, 自然) nature of existence and the experiential realization of life’s innate spontaneity. Thus, while Bergson’s élan vital contains an element of active evolutionary drive, Zhuangzi’s death-life thought prioritizes alignment with the “Dao” and diminishes the role of individual agency. This fundamental divergence constitutes a key philosophical distinction between their respective conceptions of life.

4.2. Convergence Through Divergence: The Infinite Flux of Life

Despite their fundamental differences in understanding the nature of subjectivity, both Zhuangzi and Bergson establish their philosophies on a dynamic conception of time, emphasizing the infinite flux of life. This temporal perspective not only serves as a shared philosophical foundation for their critiques of mechanistic rationality—Bergson’s rejection of “spatialized time” and Zhuangzi’s opposition to the instrumental rationality embodied in “calculative mind”—but also functions as a theoretical fulcrum for their affirmation of the infinite possibilities of life.

As discussed earlier, the word order of “death-life” in Zhuangzi reflects a distinctive understanding of the fluidity, integrality, and endless cyclicality of the relationship between life and death. “Death” returns to “life”, bridging the rupture between the two and revealing an unceasing rhythm of cyclical transformation. Zhuangzi, in the Qi Wu Lun chapter, states: “Just as something is born, it is already in the process of dying; just as something is dying, it is already in the process of being born… The hinge (樞) finds its center within the cycle, thereby responding to infinity (方生方死，方死方生……樞始得其環中，以應無窮)”. Here, the word “fang” (方) functions as an adverb indicating the present progressive tense, meaning “currently” or “about to”, thereby revealing the fluidity of the life state and the ceaseless nature of time, highlighting the unceasing circulation of life.

A relevant comparison can be found in the ancient Chinese use of “hui-shuo (晦朔)” to denote the monthly cycle, whereas the reverse sequence “shuo-hui (朔晦)” is extremely rare. Logically, since “shuo” refers to the new moon and “hui” to the end of the lunar month, one might expect “shuo” to precede “hui” in sequence. However, in actual usage, “hui” is placed before “shuo”. Why does this phenomenon occur? The reason lies in the fact that “hui” and “shuo” are seamlessly connected—every “hui” is immediately followed by another “shuo”, ensuring an unbroken cycle. It is precisely in this perpetual recurrence that time is endowed with a continuous and unending nature.

Bergson’s notion of the perpetual flux of life is embodied in his concept of duration, which refers to the continuity and indivisibility of life’s movement through time. His perspective on time does not align with the traditional linear concept of time but instead represents a fluid, indivisible lived experience. Bergson critiques the mechanistic notion of “spatialized time”, which has dominated Western thought since Aristotle’s assertion that “time is the number of motion” (Aristotle 1982, pp. 125–27). This conception leads to the common perception of time as quantifiable, homogeneous, and sequential, akin to points in space connected linearly.

However, Bergson argues that true time is not an objective property of external materiality but an intrinsic aspect of human lived experience. He asserts that “duration is pure time”—it is not a sequence of segmented moments but an indivisible whole whose essence lies in the irreversible progression of life. As he states, “Duration is the continuous progress by which the past invades the future and expands in the process” (Bergson 2004, p. 9). In other words, the past never disappears; rather, it accumulates, expands, and permeates the present and future, much like the ongoing flow of life. Bergson further remarks, “It is along this line that the duration inherent in the universe extends into even the smallest parts of our world” (Bergson 2004, p. 15). While duration is irreversible, it does not conform to a conventional linear temporal framework but instead embodies an ongoing process of creative evolution.

It is crucial to clarify that, although both Bergson’s “duration” and Zhuangzi’s death-life thought center on the fluidity of time, they fundamentally diverge in their interpretations of the direction of life’s transformation: Bergson’s theory points toward creative evolution, whereas Zhuangzi’s perspective emphasizes natural cyclicity. The death-life philosophy in Zhuangzi is constructed within the framework of a cyclical conception of time, which was a prevalent temporal paradigm in early China. The Shuowen Jiezi defines “time” as “the four seasons”, underscoring the alternation of natural cycles and reflecting a cyclical view of time. Mircea Eliade, in his study of numerous ancient civilizations, including China, observed that they commonly held cyclical conceptions of time: “Everywhere there exists the idea of the ending and beginning of time cycles, and this concept is based on the rhythm of the biological universe, forming a larger system of cyclical purification and renewal” (Eliade 2000, p. 48). This widely held cyclical time concept primarily stems from the periodic changes of the lunar phases.17

From the perspective of cyclical time, all things in the universe do not advance along a linear timeline but operate in a periodic manner, alternating between life and death. This perspective pertains to the evolution of the cosmic life order. I Ching, an early Chinese text interpreting the cosmic order, concludes its Upper Canon with “Kan (坎)” and “Li (離)” hexagrams and its Lower Canon with Ji Ji (既濟, Already Fulfilled) and Wei Ji (未濟, Not Yet Fulfilled). The Sequence of the Hexagrams (序卦) explicitly states the following: “Things cannot be exhausted, thus ‘Wei Ji’ is received as the final hexagram”. The “Wei Ji“ hexagram symbolizes incompletion and unfinalized states, aligning closely with the conception of life as an unceasing cycle. The Qing scholar Sun Qifeng, in Duyi Dazhi, asserted “The Way of the I Ching concludes with ‘Wei Ji’. If it is not yet fulfilled, then it is not yet exhausted; if it is not yet exhausted, then it implies the principle of continuous generation—this is the Way of Heaven and also the Way of the Sage”. Similarly, modern scholar Lao Siguang states: “‘Ji Ji’ signifies ‘completion,’ while ‘Wei Ji’ denotes ‘incompletion’… The addition of Wei Ji at the end represents the inexhaustible process of the cosmos itself” (Lao 2015, p. 64). This interpretation suggests that the cosmology presented in the I Ching is not one of ultimate finality but rather of perpetual change, transformation, and boundless possibilities. Against this background, Zhuangzi repeatedly articulates ideas such as “not knowing the precedence of death and life” and “having neither beginning nor ending”, underscoring the infinite continuity of time and life.

The word order in terms such as “hui-shuo” (dark moon-new moon), “zhong-shi” (ending-beginning), and “si-sheng” (death-life) is not incidental but reflects how ancient Chinese thinkers integrated their observations of cosmic operations into their understanding of life’s transformations. They inferred human affairs from celestial patterns—just as the sun and moon cycle endlessly and the four seasons alternate in their rhythms, the principle of periodic recurrence pervades nature. As articulated in Sunzi Bingfa (《孫子兵法》): “The ending is the beginning again—such is the sun and moon. Death leads to rebirth—such are the four seasons”. Pre-Qin philosophers widely believed that death-life was dictated by destiny (ming, 命), meaning that the alternation of life and death was an inherent manifestation of the Dao. This belief exemplifies the principle of correlating human affairs with the Dao’s cyclical order, thereby achieving unity between Heaven and humanity (tian ren he yi, 天人合一). Because nature operates in this manner, human life, too, should follow the path of cyclical return. While Zhuangzi emphasizes “fu gui” (復歸, return), this “return” is not a simple repetition but a dynamic process that aligns with the Dao’s spontaneous transformation—wherein the alternation of death and life constitutes a return to the original state rather than a linear progression toward a fixed endpoint.

This cyclical conception of time, embodied in both the lunar calendar and Zhuangzi’s death-life framework, sharply contrasts with Bergson’s creative evolution, despite their shared emphasis on perpetual flux. While Bergson sees time as an ever-expanding, irreversible process of becoming, Zhuangzi envisions life as an unbroken cycle of return, where death leads seamlessly back to life, forming an eternal rhythm of nature.

Although Bergson emphasizes the irreversibility of time and Zhuangzi’s concept of return reflects an insight into the universe’s perpetual regeneration and cyclical rhythm, their shared understanding of time’s fluidity leads to certain parallels in their approaches to self-cultivation. Zhuangzi, through the practice of “I losing myself”, advocates the abandonment of rigid conceptual attachments to attain a state of free and fluid wandering in unity with the transformations of things. Bergson, in contrast, achieves an intuitive grasp of human conditions by immersing himself in the direct experience of time’s passage.

Both Bergson and Zhuangzi, through their respective philosophies of “life intuition”, express a reverence for the infinite flux of existence, yet they diverge in their perspectives on time and subjectivity. Despite these differences, their ideas can be mutually complementary. Bergson’s creative evolution emphasizes the subject’s unfolding of free will within time. However, in modern society, the pursuit of creativity is often driven by external objectives, leading individuals into anxiety and competition. In contrast, Zhuangzi’s philosophy of “ziran xiaoyao” (自然逍遙, natural and free and fluid wandering) offers an alternative wisdom, one that dissolves attachments and allows individuals to return to an unburdened state of being. Importantly, Zhuangzi does not reject creativity but rather reorients its motivation, transforming it from a goal-driven pursuit into a natural expression of life’s spontaneous flow. Integrating Zhuangzi’s “xiaoyao” mindset into Bergson’s creative spirit may offer a way to mitigate modern society’s obsession with utilitarian objectives. Such an approach enables individuals to actively engage in creative pursuits while also experiencing the present moment’s freedom and the boundless possibilities of existence. This synthesis does not negate modernity but rather provides a constructive reconfiguration of contemporary life, allowing individuals to rediscover genuine freedom through dynamic creativity.

5. Conclusions

In Zhuangzi’s death-life thought, death is regarded as a vital phase of life itself, emphasizing continuity and illustrating the infinite flow and perpetuation of existence. Death-life does not deny the sequential order of life and death but instead seeks to bridge the rupture between them, rendering the transition seamless and uninterrupted. Through an interpretation of Zhuangzi’s “wu hua” (transformation of things) in both the dimensions of life and death, it becomes evident that the sequence of death-life reflects a profound insight rather than an arbitrary linguistic choice. The structural parallels between “zhong-shi” (ending-beginning) and “hui-shuo” (dark moon-new moon) further support an understanding of “death-life”—not only presenting a vision of perpetual renewal and ceaseless vitality but also highlighting the Daoist ideal of unity between Heaven and humanity within a cyclical conception of time.

The modern academic replacement of death-life with life-death effectively obscures the fluidity, holism, and infinitude inherent in pre-Qin perspectives on life and death. While Zhuangzi’s death-life thought differs from Bergson’s concept of the “élan vital” unfolding within durée (duration), both reject mechanistic and fragmented views of life, instead emphasizing a return to a dynamic, holistic state of authentic existence, one that allows for an intuitive experience of life’s infinite potential. As distinct yet complementary paths within the philosophy of life, Zhuangzi’s “death-life” framework offers modern philosophy an alternative, non-anthropocentric perspective rooted in the East. This engagement between Chinese and Western thought not only enriches diverse understandings of life but also provides insight into modern dilemmas shaped by the constraints of rationalism.