Exploring the Multiple Forms of the Taiji Diagram

How to Understand the Saying “The Taiji Diagram Is Not Just One Diagram”?

The Taiji Diagram (太极图, Tàijí tú) is an ancient Chinese representation of the principles of Yin and Yang (阴阳, Yīn Yáng) and the cosmic laws that govern the operation of the universe. According to legend, it was created by the Daoist (道士, Dàoshì) Chen Tuan (陈抟, Chén Tuán) during the Song Dynasty (宋代, Sòng Dài). There are three main variations of the Taiji Diagram: the Pre-Heaven Taiji Diagram (先天太极图, Xiāntiān Tàijí tú), the Dragon Diagram (龙图, Lóng tú), and the Wuji Diagram (无极图, Wújí tú).

The renowned Confucian scholar of the Song Dynasty, Zhu Xi (朱熹, Zhū Xī), once said: “The Pre-Heaven Diagram was passed down from Xiyi (希夷, Xī Yí), who in turn inherited it from others. It is a practice used by alchemists to cultivate the self, as described in the Can Tong Qi (参同契, Cān Tóng Qì).” He believed that the Pre-Heaven Taiji Diagram originated with Chen Xiyi (Chen Tuan’s other name) and gradually evolved into various forms in later generations. Generally, these diagrams can be categorized into two major types.

One type combines numbers and graphics, such as the Wuji Diagram and the Zhou Family Taiji Diagram (周氏太极图, Zhōu shì Tàijí tú). These diagrams share a similar form, with a single outer circle representing the ultimate state (术极, Shù jí). Inside this circle, there are two rings divided into black and white, with three layers representing different elements. On these layers, you might find text like “Yang moves, Yin is still” (阳动阴静, Yáng dòng Yīn jìng), symbolizing the interplay of Yin and Yang and the way the universe moves and changes. The diagram also incorporates the Five Elements (五行, Wǔ xíng) – metal, wood, fire, water, and earth – symbolizing the fundamental components of the universe’s creation. Below, two smaller circles may be included to represent phrases like “The creative force of heaven brings forth the male (乾, Qián), and the receptive force of earth brings forth the female (坤, Kūn)” or “All things are born from transformation” (万物化生, Wànwù huà shēng). These details demonstrate the cyclical process of life’s creation, from Wuji (无极, Wújí) to Taiji (太极, Tàijí), then to Yin and Yang, and ultimately to the Five Elements.

The second type of Taiji Diagram centers on the Yin-Yang Fish Diagram (阴阳鱼图, Yīnyáng yú tú), as seen in the Ancient Taiji Diagram (古太极图, Gǔ Tàijí tú), the Pre-Heaven Taiji Diagram, and the Lai Family Taiji Diagram (来氏太极图, Lái shì Tàijí tú). In this design, the outer circle represents Taiji itself, and the S-shaped curve inside divides the circle into black and white arcs. There are small dots in the center of each arc: a white dot in the black area and a black dot in the white area. The white color represents Yang (阳, Yáng), and black represents Yin (阴, Yīn). The proximity of black and white suggests their interdependence, and the shape of the curve—like two fish swimming together—indicates the perpetual motion and cyclical transformation of Yin and Yang.

The white color represents Yang (阳, Yáng), and black represents Yin (阴, Yīn). The proximity of black and white suggests their interdependence, and the shape of the curve—like two fish swimming together—indicates the perpetual motion and cyclical transformation of Yin and Yang. This interplay of Yin and Yang has also inspired various forms of art and design, including yin yang jewelry, which often features the iconic black-and-white symbol as a representation of balance and harmony.

Though the visual styles of these two Taiji Diagrams differ, the underlying principles they represent are essentially the same. In modern times, the Yin-Yang Fish Diagram has become the most commonly seen form, and people often imbue the diagram’s various parts with specific meanings. However, the focus is less on the orientation of the diagram and more on the cyclical changes between Yin and Yang. Some modern interpretations even connect the diagram to contemporary scientific theories, such as the wave-particle duality in physics, or suggest that the diagram is a projection of the celestial sphere onto a flat plane. The two dots represent the cosmic poles—north and south—and the S-curve symbolizes the paths of the sun, moon, and five major planets. While these theories are intriguing, they have not yet reached a consensus.

Clearly, the Taiji Diagram encapsulates profound philosophical concepts, offering wisdom that is beyond our imagination. Its deep connection to the workings of the universe is something that continues to fascinate and inspire, leaving us with a sense of awe and respect for the mysteries it represents.

The Cycle of Taiji: A Journey of Self-Discovery

As the sun dipped behind the hills, casting long shadows across the quiet town of Willowbrook, Ethan sat on the porch of his small apartment, staring out at the horizon. His mind was restless, a storm of thoughts swirling in his head. It had been weeks since he had first encountered the concept of Taiji—an ancient Chinese philosophy that, at first, seemed too abstract for his modern, busy life. But something about it had stuck with him. Something deep. Something that felt… personal.

That night, he’d met Liu, an older man who seemed to possess a quiet wisdom that Ethan couldn’t quite grasp. They had bumped into each other at the local bookstore, both reaching for the same ancient text on philosophy. Liu had laughed warmly and offered to share the book, and as they sat down in a quiet corner of the café, Liu began to speak of Taiji with a kind of reverence that stirred something in Ethan.

“Taiji is not just a diagram,” Liu had said, his voice soft but firm. “It is the dance of the universe itself. It is the essence of all things, and it is alive. It moves, changes, and evolves. It is in everything.”

Ethan, ever the skeptic, had raised an eyebrow. “But… isn’t it just some old symbol? A yin-yang sign we’ve all seen before?”

Liu smiled knowingly. “Ah, but that’s only the beginning. There are many forms of the Taiji Diagram, and each one tells a different story. The most famous one—the one with the black and white fish—represents the flow of Yin and Yang. But what if I told you there’s more to it than just balance?”

Ethan had leaned forward, intrigued. Liu explained that the Taiji was a visual representation of the cosmic balance that governed not only the universe but also the human spirit. The cycle of life, the ebb and flow of energy—this was the rhythm of existence.

As Liu spoke, Ethan began to feel something stir inside him. A connection to something much larger than himself. The idea that the universe was not some distant, cold force but an intimate, ever-changing dance that mirrored his own struggles and growth.

Ethan’s curiosity deepened, and over the next few weeks, he found himself visiting Liu more often, eager to learn. They discussed the different forms of the Taiji Diagram—each one a map of how life evolves. There was the Pre-Heaven Taiji (先天太极图, Xiāntiān Tàijí tú), which showed the purest state of creation before anything had come into being. Then there was the Wuji Diagram (无极图, Wújí tú), representing the boundless, formless state from which everything flows. These diagrams, Liu explained, were not static. They were alive, changing, just as people change.

“But what does it all mean for us?” Ethan asked one day, frustration creeping into his voice. “How do we apply this ancient wisdom to our lives? To our struggles?”

Liu’s eyes twinkled, as if he had been waiting for this question. “Ah, you’ve touched on the real mystery. The Taiji Diagram is not just a symbol—it’s a guide. It teaches us how to navigate life’s cycles. The black and white fish, they are not opposites. They are interdependent. Yin and Yang, they feed into each other. The white dot in the black fish and the black dot in the white—this shows us that nothing is ever truly separate. Everything has its place in the dance.”

Ethan’s mind raced. He thought about his own life—the constant push and pull between work, relationships, and his own desires. It had often felt like a battle, like he was caught in the endless struggle of trying to find balance. But Liu’s words began to make sense. Maybe it wasn’t about fighting the flow. Maybe it was about embracing it.

One day, as Ethan walked through the park, he watched the leaves fall gently from the trees, each one drifting in the wind before landing softly on the ground. It reminded him of what Liu had said—the ever-changing cycle of life. The seasons, the ebb and flow of the tide, even the breath in his lungs—it was all part of the same rhythm, the same flow of energy. And in that moment, Ethan realized that the balance he had been searching for wasn’t something to force. It was something to surrender to.

His heart, once burdened with the weight of constant striving, felt lighter. There was peace in knowing that life was always in motion, always evolving. And that was okay. He didn’t need to have all the answers. He didn’t need to fight for control. He just needed to dance with the rhythm.

As the weeks passed, Ethan found himself becoming more attuned to the cycles around him. He learned to let go of the need for perfection and control. He began to see that the ups and downs of his life were not failures, but simply part of the great dance of existence.

And so, Ethan’s journey with Taiji became more than just an intellectual pursuit. It became a path of transformation, a journey toward embracing the flow of life, with all its complexities and contradictions.

The Taiji Diagram, with all its intricacies, had shown him that life was not about finding the perfect balance, but about understanding the movement within the imbalance. And in that understanding, Ethan found a peace he had never known before.