I. No One Should Be Abandoned

Some people feel —

I've done too many things wrong in the past. It's too late. I'm not good enough. I don't deserve anything better.

In Chapter 62 of the Daodejing, Laozi says something especially warm to everyone who feels this way —

"As for those who are not yet good — why should there be any cause to abandon them?"

A person, even if they haven't yet become good, haven't yet found the right path, still carry the weight of past mistakes —

What possible reason is there to cast them aside?

This chapter is about — the Dao does not abandon anyone.

Whether you are already walking the right path, or still struggling in the mud; whether you have done great things in the past or stumbled badly — the Dao never refuses you because of your past. It is always there, waiting for you to walk toward it.

This chapter is about —

Why the Dao treats all people without exception, abandoning none. And what is truly precious.

II. The Dao Is Everyone's Treasure

The chapter opens —

"The Dao is the master of all things; it is the treasure of those who are good; it is the protection of those who are not yet good."

"The Dao is the master of all things" — the Dao is where all things converge.

This "master" is not "ruler, controller" — it is "the center toward which all things naturally converge and gather" (connecting ch. 61's lower course, and ch. 4's ancestor of all things).

Like all rivers returning to the sea — the Dao is where all things naturally flow.

Now comes the crucial line: the Dao is good for two kinds of people —

"The treasure of those who are good" — for those who are already walking toward the good (those on the path, moving upward), the Dao is their treasure.

They hold the Dao as the most precious thing, using it to guide themselves, nurture themselves, help others.

"The protection of those who are not yet good" — for those who haven't yet walked toward the good (still struggling, still carrying past mistakes), the Dao also protects them.

Note — the Dao is not only open to "good people."

For those who haven't yet found the right path, the Dao also protects them — the Dao does not abandon them because they "aren't good enough yet." It still protects them, waiting for them to walk toward it.

This is the most moving part of this chapter —

The Dao does not pick its people.

Not "you must become good first, then the Dao accepts you" — but "whatever you are right now, the Dao is protecting you and waiting for you."

Like sunlight, which doesn't shine only on good people and not on bad ones; like the earth, which doesn't carry only the excellent and discard the ordinary — the Dao abandons no one.

III. Beautiful Words and Grand Gestures Cannot Compare to the Real Thing

The next line —

"Beautiful words can be traded; honorable conduct can be offered to others as a gift."

"Beautiful words can be traded" — fine words can be used for exchange.

"Honorable conduct can be offered as a gift" — dignified behavior can be given as a favor to others.

Laozi is not praising "beautiful words" and "honorable conduct" here —

He is pointing out that these polished words and dignified appearances remain at the level of surface performance, external exchange.

Fine words can get you something (traded), dignified posture can be used to do favors (offered as gifts) — all of these are external, tradable, performed for others to see.

They stand in sharp contrast with what comes next — "sitting quietly into this Dao" (truly entering the Dao) —

One is surface performance, the other is the real inner thing.

Seen from 2026 —

We are surrounded by "beautiful words" and "honorable conduct" — fine rhetoric, polished packaging, carefully crafted personas, postures exchanged for benefits — all "beautiful words can be traded, honorable conduct can be given as gifts."

Laozi reminds us: don't be deceived by surface things. What is truly precious is the inner real thing, not the outer beautiful packaging.

IV. Even the Not-Yet-Good Should Not Be Abandoned

Now the warm line —

"As for those who are not yet good — why should there be any cause to abandon them?"

"Those who are not yet good" — people who haven't yet become good, haven't yet found the right path, still carry the weight of past mistakes.

"Why should there be any cause to abandon them" — what possible reason is there to cast them aside?

The weight of this line is considerable —

Laozi is not saying "good people shouldn't be abandoned" (that's obvious) — he is saying: even those who haven't yet become good should not be abandoned.

Those still struggling, those still carrying past mistakes, those who haven't yet found the right path — precisely these people are the ones who especially must not be given up on.

Why?

Because — every person has the potential to walk toward the Dao.

A person being "not yet good" now doesn't mean they will be "not yet good" forever; as long as the Dao is still protecting them, still keeping the door open — they may walk toward the Dao at any time, find the right path.

If you abandon them now, you cut off all their possibilities.

This connects the thread running through earlier chapters —

Ch. 27: the sage is always skilled at saving people, never abandoning anyone (no abandoned people). Ch. 49: treat the good well, and treat those not yet good well also (be good even to the not-good). Ch. 62: even those not yet good should not be abandoned (why cause to abandon them?).

One line running through: the Dao abandons no one.

Seen from 2026 —

A subordinate who hasn't yet produced results, a child still making mistakes, a friend not yet on track, a past self with failures — none of these should be abandoned.

Because — as long as the door is still there, there is still the possibility of becoming better.

And that "door" is always there.

V. What Is Truly Precious — Not Grand Ceremony but Quietly Sitting into the Dao

Laozi then makes a comparison —

"Therefore: even if you establish the Son of Heaven, install the three high ministers, even if you present jade discs with both hands preceded by teams of four horses — this is not as good as quietly sitting into this Dao."

"Establishing the Son of Heaven, installing the three ministers" — the most honored position in the human world.

"Jade discs presented with both hands, teams of four horses" — the most elaborate ceremony, the most precious and grand display.

But Laozi says — "this is not as good as quietly sitting into this Dao."

The most honored position, the most elaborate ceremony, the most precious gifts, the grandest display — none of it compares to quietly sitting into the Dao.

"Quietly sitting into this Dao" — what is it?

It is, quietly, without needing any external ceremony, walking into the Dao — toward the Dao — living in the Dao.

No need for the position of Son of Heaven, no need for the title of high minister, no need for precious jade discs, no need for an elaborate display — you only need to quietly sit into the Dao.

This is something everyone can do — regardless of whether you have status, money, or ceremony.

Here lies something profoundly deep —

Those who truly attain the Dao don't go after those external honored positions.

Throughout history — Zhuangzi declined the King of Chu's invitation to become Chancellor; Yan Hui was content in a narrow lane eating coarse food, his joy unaltered; Laozi resigned his office, rode a green ox out through the pass and was gone.

They were the most capable of occupying those honored positions, and precisely they avoided them.

Why? Because they knew — that external honor is far less than inwardly sitting into the Dao.

VI. Not Wanting Those Honors — and Thus Having the Most Precious Thing

The chapter's close —

"Why did the ancients prize this Dao so highly? Was it not because: seek it and you receive, have wrongs and you are sheltered? Therefore it is the most precious thing under heaven."

"Seek it and you receive" — walk toward the Dao and you receive it.

The Dao is not distant, not hard to obtain — turn toward it and it is there; walk toward it and you receive it.

No complex ritual, no difficult conditions — seek the Dao and you are in the Dao.

"Have wrongs and you are sheltered" — having past wrongs, you still find shelter.

This must be read carefully —

"Having wrongs and being sheltered" does not mean "believe in the Dao and bad actions have no consequences" — it means: the Dao does not abandon you because of your past wrongs.

Even if you have committed mistakes, walked crooked paths, stumbled and fallen — as long as you are willing to walk toward the Dao, the Dao still protects you, still accepts you, does not refuse you because of your past.

This is "the protection of those not yet good" — the Dao protects even those who haven't yet become good.

"Therefore it is the most precious thing under heaven."

Why is the Dao most precious?

Because — walk toward it and you receive it (seek it and you receive); have wrongs and it doesn't abandon you (have wrongs and you are sheltered); it is open to every person, abandoning no one (why cause to abandon them?).

A Dao like this is the most precious thing under heaven.

Hidden here is the deepest insight of this chapter —

Those things that are "most honored" in worldly eyes — the Son of Heaven's position, high ministers' titles, precious jade, grand ceremonies — those who truly attain the Dao don't go after them.

And precisely because they don't seek those external honors, they come to possess the most precious thing — the Dao.

Not seeking what is most honored under heaven — and thus becoming the most precious under heaven.

This is the consistent thread running through the Daodejing (connecting ch. 7, ch. 22, ch. 34) — not contending, and thus no one can contend against you; not seeking external honor, and thus possessing true honor.

VII. To the Reader

This chapter offers two especially warm and important gifts —

First gift: no matter what you are right now, you have not been abandoned.

If you feel — I've done too many things wrong in the past; I'm not good enough now; it's already too late —

Please remember Laozi's words: "As for those who are not yet good — why should there be any cause to abandon them?"

No one should be abandoned. Including you.

The Dao never refuses you because of your past — as long as you are willing to walk toward it, it is always there (seek it and you receive); even if you have stumbled before, it does not abandon you (have wrongs and you are sheltered).

The door is always there. You can walk through it at any time.

And equally — don't be quick to abandon others.

That person who hasn't yet produced results, that child still making mistakes, that friend not yet on track — as long as the door is still there, they still have the possibility of becoming better. Don't close their door.

Second gift: what is truly precious is not external ceremony — it is inwardly sitting into the Dao.

Are you often chasing external things — a higher position, a better title, a more dignified display, a more polished persona?

Remember "not as good as quietly sitting into this Dao" — none of this compares to quietly living in the Dao.

The truly precious requires no external ceremony or display — it is something everyone can possess: quietly, walking into the Dao.

This chapter's core is the deepest gentleness and the highest wisdom —

The deepest gentleness: the Dao abandons no one. Whatever you are, whatever your past — the door is always there.

The highest wisdom: what is truly precious is not external honor — it is inwardly sitting into the Dao. Not seeking the world's most honored position, and thus coming to possess the truly precious.

Finally, back to the opening: no one should be abandoned.

Laozi said it 2,400 years ago —

"As for those who are not yet good — why should there be any cause to abandon them?"

No matter how "not good" you are right now, how "not good enough" you feel, how much you feel "it's already too late" —

The Dao will never refuse you because of your past.

It is quietly there, waiting for you to walk toward it.

The door is always there.

At any time, you can sit quietly into it.