《元始天尊说太古经注(长筌子)》

Preface to the Scripture of Primordial Antiquity (Taigu Jing)

When the Great Dao (the Way) reaches its utmost, it cannot be expressed in words; true emptiness and stillness are not any visible form. Those who wish to ponder it cannot understand it completely; those who try to observe it cannot see it. To inquire into it is to find nothing one can grasp, and to try to follow it forward is never to reach an end.

The Great Dao fashions Heaven and Earth and governs the transformations of the myriad things. Silent and unmoving, it nevertheless fills Heaven and Earth in every direction, gives all things peaceful nurture, and restores living beings to their original life. It is lofty and great to the very extreme; if not a sage, who could penetrate it?

The Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning (a revered deity of Daoism) is vast in compassion, and his wisdom illuminates the ten directions. He sees that living beings have forgotten to return to the source. They turn and drift through the world, cycling without cease through rebirth, suffering for a long time, yet unable to awaken on their own. He therefore sends down a rain of the teaching like sweet, timely rain, proclaims the subtle Great Dao, and guides and receives sentient beings, so that they may leave the bitter sea of birth and death, enter the realm of pure emptiness and quiet blandness, rise above the defilement of the dusty world, and move through a vast and boundless realm.

There one may roam free and at ease, and alone carry on the work of transformation and nurture; one may penetrate principles subtle, mysterious, and far-reaching, accord with Wuwei (non-action) and natural spontaneity, return to plain simplicity and original genuineness, and reach a state deeply hidden and undifferentiated, all but impossible to put into words.

Commentary on the Scripture of Primordial Antiquity Expounded by the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning

“Yuan” refers to the original beginning before the transformations of Qi (vital energy); “shi” refers to the time when the myriad things first arise. Thus “primordial beginning” means empty nonbeing and natural spontaneity, together with pure stillness and Wuwei. It embraces every subtle principle and can respond to living beings and receive them.

“Celestial Worthy” refers to a supreme and mysterious being, exalted and lucid, noble and real—the lord of the Three Realms and the teacher of gods and humans—and is also an honorific for that being’s profound De (Virtue/Power). “Expound” means to proclaim, set forth, and elaborate, and it also includes the sense that the myriad things are thereby brought into being and that transformation circulates and flows. Covering living beings with compassion like clouds, the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning sends down the teaching-rain of the Great Dao and nourishes them universally, so that the sprouts of their turn toward goodness may grow.

The Primordial Beginning refers to the original state of the cosmos: without name or form, neither changing nor shifting, wholly one with emptiness, and enduring through long kalpas. It already existed before Heaven and Earth took shape, yet showed no sign of aging; beyond the Six Extremes—heaven, earth, and the four directions—it is not confined by any orientation. Silent and vast, it exists alone without alteration. It passes through the transformations of Yin-Yang without being diminished, is neither born nor dying, neither comes nor goes, and stands serene and supreme.

Moved by profound compassion, the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning (Yuanshi Tianzun) widely opened the gate of expedient means, proclaimed the subtle essential teaching, and set forth principles both hidden and minute, in order to save all beings and free them from every suffering.

What is called a Jing (scripture/classic) is not ordinary conversation or vulgar speech, but another name for the wondrous Dharma and eternal truth. It is the vital path leading to the good Way, the stairway into the realm of the sages, the true road of carefree freedom, and the open thoroughfare to the mysterious and subtle—like a boundless plain, an ideal realm free of disturbance. From ancient times to the present, every person of penetrating insight has cultivated along this path. If beings adrift in the sea of suffering possess within them an innate endowment for the immortal Way and have accumulated spiritual capacity in former lives, then upon encountering this precious scripture, they hear it once and awaken to liberation, cast off the bonds of karma, leave affliction far behind, and roam free beyond the mundane world. Is this not a great fortune?

The Celestial Worthy said:

When the sage transmits teaching, it is like Heaven moving through the four seasons: it follows the principle of sincerity and responds to beings with goodwill. The sage’s words are like a pivotal hinge. Once the command is issued, they are direct and clear, never missing the essential point; once spoken, they display dignity and upright clarity, and nothing is out of place. They are like good medicine, sweet jade nectar, and a bright lamp, able to heal every pain of living beings and to illumine and break through the karmic obstructions wrought by delusion, darkness, and ignorance. The sage’s verbal teaching surpasses metal and stone. It moves the heart like a spring breeze, so that ordinary people are stirred and suddenly enlightened. The myriad things thereby flourish and become unobstructed, each returning to its source. The sage guides the world, helping people dissolve knots of resentment and release their bonds, depart from birth and death, transcend the distinction between being and non-being, and roam within the great Dao (the Way). What place is there that the great Dao cannot reach?

Every transformation that is set in motion has its root in the original state in which nothing is set in motion.

There is activity because one responds in accord with the moment; there is no activity when one guards the primordial Qi (vital energy), holding it concentrated and undivided—that is, returning to the root and restoring the original nature of life. Thus the Jing (scripture/classic) says: “The clear is the source of the turbid; the still is the foundation of movement.” One should devote oneself wholly to guarding the One and fittingly grasp the middle way. The myriad things flourish and grow, and in the end each returns to its own root. To return to the root is called stillness; when stillness reaches its utmost, there is no further rash movement.

Whatever is done has its root in Wuwei (non-action).

Shen (spirit) is originally clear, still, and at peace; when it is stirred, it can respond with unobstructed penetration. One acts only when there is no alternative, meeting the myriad things according to the moment, with subtle efficacy that is inexhaustible, and all the while fittingly holding to the middle way. The myriad things flourish and grow, and in the end each returns to its own root. To return to the root is called stillness; when stillness reaches its utmost, there is no further rash movement.

Whatever is done has its root in Wuwei.

Shen is originally clear, still, and at peace; when it is stirred, it can respond with unobstructed penetration. One acts only when there is no alternative, meeting the myriad things according to the moment, with subtle efficacy that is inexhaustible. Discarding cunning calculation and deliberate benevolence, one can act in keeping with the patterns of nature; when the mind is plain and boundless, every subtle mystery gathers and comes.

When Qi condenses, the myriad things are able to grow.

By single-mindedly condensing Jing (essence) and Qi, and bringing body and mind to suppleness, one becomes soft and pure like an infant. Holding to emptiness, stillness, and harmony, true Qi fills and flows, and the myriad things can grow and carry life onward. To understand harmony is the constant Dao (the Way); to drive Qi by force of will is to rely on strength. Those who rely on strength pass from robust vigor into decline, and in the end they belong among those who move toward death.

When Qi disperses, the myriad things perish.

When the breath is cut off and the spirit scatters, the nine orifices and hundred bones of the body likewise turn to dust. What doubt can remain about this?

The myriad things depend upon one another, and therefore one must firmly protect and nourish their root.

Nourish emptiness and stillness by means of emptiness and stillness, and nourish substance by means of substance. Why is this said? Forget the body in order to nourish Qi; forget Qi in order to nourish Shen; forget Shen in order to return to emptiness and stillness. Within a mind of emptiness and stillness, light is born, and the state of auspicious peace comes to rest there. When Shen and Qi are harmonious and at ease, the numinous root grows deep and firm—this is the way of accomplishing long life and lasting vision.

Silently realize it, and cultivate it oneself.

The supreme great Dao is exceedingly profound and subtle, and can be realized without reliance on external things. Silent and without words, dimly forgetting all deliberation, one neither responds with intent nor presses with questions. The light of spiritual clarity appears of itself, far beyond the entanglements of the world. The substance of true constancy reveals itself naturally and does not turn with the myriad phenomena; in this way one can preserve life and recover the original root.

It manifests from within that which has no interval.

“That which has no interval” means non-being. What is spoken of here is the teaching without words, the benefit of Wuwei, and perfect penetration free of obstruction. It can transform and appear in response to what stirs it, yet it has no fixed form…

“It manifests from within that which has no interval…” The original text is unfinished here.

“Without interruption” means that there is no break. The so-called “teaching without words” and “benefit of Wuwei (non-action)” are perfectly harmonious and free of obstruction. They appear according to conditions and transform without end, pervading the ten directions (all space—the four sides, the eight quarters, above and below, and so on), operating at every moment and never ceasing.

Neither dying nor being born,

The Mysterious Pearl (symbolizing the subtle and mysterious nature) shines with bright radiance, and has remained so from ancient times to the present. The myriad things form one undifferentiated whole, and all principles are equal from the beginning. It neither sinks into stillness nor is stained by dust; it has no beginning and no end. Therefore it is said neither to die nor to be born.

one who is united as one with Heaven and Earth.

The Dao (the Way) of Heaven is pure and empty, and so it can endure for long; the Dao of Earth is peaceful and settled, and so it can last. If a person can grasp the principle in this, penetrate the mysterious Dao, reach the utmost of emptiness and stillness, firmly hold to quietude, keep the mind tranquil and at ease, and remain unentangled by the myriad things, then one can abide in clarity, stillness, and Wuwei, and become one with Heaven and Earth.

The Celestial Worthy said:

The Celestial Worthy is originally present in every person; everyone is fully endowed with it. It is only that living beings have shallow blessings. Afflictions veil the nature of the mind, and delusion is heavy and turbid, so they cannot awaken to the true source. Even when they meet an enlightened master, they neither believe nor understand.

Forget the eyes, and light overflows without limit,

The five colors (blue-green, yellow, red, white, black, and other hues) disturb the eyesight and dazzle the eyes. Here “color” means forms and appearances that have become manifest; yet the nature of these appearances has not in fact truly revealed itself. Why is this said? If the Dharma-eye (the wisdom that sees into the nature of things) is perfectly clear and unobstructed, it can brightly illumine the ten directions and the three realms (the realm of desire, the realm of form, and the formless realm). Looking at the myriad things, one knows that they have no fixed self-nature; looking at emptiness, one knows that emptiness is not mere nothingness. What meets the eye seems a stretch of deep obscurity, yet within that obscurity one alone sees luminous clarity. Wondrous light fills everything and is without end.

Efface the ears, and mind-consciousness remains ever a deep abyss.

The five tones (gong, shang, jue, zhi, yu, and other pitches) disturb the hearing and leave one unable to hear clearly. The mind is like a clear, deep pool, originally limpid and bright. Words of right and wrong, and sounds of beauty and ugliness, all belong to the illusory things clung to by deluded feeling. Noises like fierce wind and driving rain disturb the source of the mind and cause the mind and spirit to lose their clarity. If one can eliminate discrimination between right and wrong and not let these distinctions enter the mind, then amid soundlessness one alone hears a harmonious tone. Only then can one hear the mysterious song “Baixue” (“White Snow”); it is not played on instruments, yet it is as marvelous as the immortal melody “Yangchun” (“Sunny Spring”).

When both kinds of mental contrivance are set aside, this is called Taixuan (the Great Mystery).

Sound, form, and color all fade away, and movement and stillness are no longer distinguished. Listening does not rely on the Qi (vital energy) of the breath, and seeing does not depend on spirit or conscious awareness. This is the wondrous realm of Taixuan. It is empty, still, and expansive, spiritually luminous and profound—unfathomably deep, yet able to transform and bring forth the myriad things; mysterious beyond all fathoming, yet able to manifest what is subtle and fine. Through Wuwei (non-action) nothing is left undone, and without any deliberate pursuit of knowledge one nevertheless comes to understand. It is lucid and penetrating, vast and vacant, and its wondrous functioning has no limit.

Wholly undifferentiated and chaotic, it accords with the “Great Square” (Dafang, the boundless body of the Dao, the Way).

Things and the self are forgotten together, and neither being nor non-being can be established. The state of mind is obscure, still, and silent, remote and profound, without boundary; it lies neither outside nor within. Its working has no point of origin, and its manifestation is not confined to any one place. It nurtures and transforms the myriad things, yet it cannot be described by any concrete image. It is one undivided whole, with no fixed direction and no fixed limit.

Deep, hidden, and fused together, it accords with the Dao, to which nothing can be compared.

The supreme Dao is mystery upon mystery, vast and boundless, and its principle admits of comparison with nothing at all. When the Dao is gathered and stored away, it becomes Yuanjing (primal Jing, essence—the subtle Qi at the origin of all things); when it is put to use, it appears as the myriad spirits. When held within and not displayed, it is called Taiyi (the Great One, the undifferentiated origin); when it unfolds and becomes manifest, it is called Taiqing (Great Clarity, the realm of pure emptiness and vast expanse). It has neither form nor name, yet it is supreme and most honored. To lose it is to remain an ordinary person; to realize it is to become a sage.

Though heaven and earth are so vast, I do not feel myself to be filled or overflowing.

Sages and Dao-attained Zhenren (Perfected Persons), from ancient times to the present, can raise heaven and earth, command Yin-Yang, fashion the myriad things, and extend their grace to all living beings. What difficulty is there in this?

Though the myriad things are so numerous, all are kept and upheld by me.

The cosmos seems held in the palm of the hand, and every transformation arises from within a single body. When will it ever be exhausted and come to an end? And how could words ever fully express its furthest bounds?

The sage expounds the wondrous Dao directly, so that it appears everywhere and gives forth light. He fears only that ordinary people of later ages will not believe and will fall into doubt; therefore he deliberately speaks with reserve, as if the principle could not be exhausted in words. This is in order to keep what is said from going astray.

The Celestial Worthy (Tianzun) said:

The Celestial Worthy (Tianzun, the honorific title in Daoism for the highest deity) is subtle and profound, penetrating the mysterious principle, unfathomably deep. Thus it is said that His words hold the mysterious and subtle within them, as if there were no path by which they might be traced; though the tongue is speaking, it is as if nothing had been said.

Nourish the true fire within the body, and the body can long endure.

True Qi (Zhenqi, the subtle vital energy within the human body) warms and nourishes the whole body, so that one is not assailed by cold or heat. When the Qi of pure Yang circulates without cease, one can pass beyond the ordinary limits of life and death. Thus it is said that the bright lamp in the heart illuminates all things, and the Dharma body (Fashen, the pure body realized by the cultivator) may long endure. If the candle of wisdom does not shine, how can the form of the Dao (the Way) appear?

Conserve and nourish the true water within the body, and the bodily form can long remain.

The Qi of Heaven and Earth mingle, and sweet dew descends to nourish the myriad things. If a person can be quiet and at peace, so that body and mind are unobstructed, the precious vessel within—the body taken as furnace and cauldron in the metaphor of cultivation—will be secure, and the jade liquor (Yujiang, the name in cultivation for the sweet, refined fluids within the body) will be rich and pure. True water descends to nourish the mysterious body and restore youth to old age. Is this not a good thing?

True water and true fire harmonize with one another, and this is therefore called longevity.

When water and fire are mutually completed (Jiji, the harmony of Yin-Yang and of water and fire), the hun and po, the ethereal and corporeal souls, unite in mutual closeness. True water descends to nourish the mysterious body and restore youth to old age. Is this not a good thing?

True water and true fire harmonize with one another, and this is therefore called longevity.

When water and fire are mutually completed and the hun and po keep to one another, lead and mercury—metaphors in Neidan (internal alchemy) for the essential Qi of Yin and Yang—coalesce. Through refining and nurturing they become the Great Medicine and crystallize as the Golden Elixir (Jindan). The Golden Elixir shines with brilliant radiance and can illumine what is dark and hidden; pure and free of admixture, it returns to simplicity and Wuwei (non-action). In this way one may live long without perishing and face no peril throughout life. Such a person is called a True Person (Zhenren, one who has attained the Dao).

Heaven obtains the authentic Dao, and therefore endures.

Heaven, having gained the pure and unmixed Dao, can cover the myriad things and embrace every phenomenon. Through kalpa after kalpa it remains clear, luminous, and settled, surveying all things without partiality. Without speaking it responds and transforms, its subtle function inexhaustible; lofty, far-reaching, and vast, it contains all things and endures without change.

Earth obtains the authentic Dao, and therefore endures.

Earth, having gained the authentic Dao, can nurture the myriad things and make their foundations deep and firm. Quiet and abiding in Wuwei, it is therefore able to endure.

Human beings obtain the authentic Dao, and therefore live long.

Only when the body dies and yet the Dao does not perish may one be said to have longevity. If people of the world can grasp the import of what is authentic, obtain the mysterious origin, unite in truth with the Dao, face no peril all their lives, reach the state of sages and worthies, and have later generations continue to offer sacrifice, what could be better than this?

The reason people of the world cannot endure is that they attend only to nourishing what is external, …

The five flavors disturb the mouth and tongue; the five kinds of odors trouble the nose; sights and sounds block the ears and eyes; and a mind bent on choosing and rejecting throws the inner heart into slippery disorder. If one can accord with the Dao (the Way) and return to what is genuine, one will not fall into peril throughout one’s life, and will share the path of the sages and worthies. To have later generations continue their sacrificial offerings without cease—what could be more worthy of praise than this?

The reason people of the world cannot long endure is that they attend only to nurturing the body’s outward enjoyments.

The five flavors disturb the mouth and tongue, odors trouble the nose, and sights and sounds cloud the ears and eyes. A mind of choosing and rejecting throws the heart into confusion, so that original nature drifts and will not settle. People grow infatuated with passion and desire and chase after external things; thoughts arise one after another in turmoil, and the mind is forever rushing outward. The yin-evil Qi (vital energy) associated with ghosts and spirits then finds an opening and enters. Right and wrong, favor and disgrace, disturb the mind’s original source, so that the person and external things contend with one another and wear each other down. One labors all one’s life, trapped in a petty web of karma, yet does not know where one’s refuge lies—truly pitiable. The body craves rich and ample enjoyment and is dressed in brocade, while the mind is lost in deviant views and inverted delusions. Even when old age brings life to its end, one still does not understand Heaven’s mandate. To lose oneself for the sake of external things, and to lose one’s original nature amid the world—such a person has turned root and branch upside down, and is truly to be pitied.

This is because they have damaged the inner root.

A person’s inner being is originally pure, still, and bright, empty, clear, and radiant. Yet people cling to all manner of dusty entanglements and will not turn the light back upon themselves (gathering in the mind and Shen (spirit), and looking back upon oneself). Original nature thus gradually scatters and sinks into long confusion, so that the genuine self is hard to realize. The true body transmigrates into one bodily form after another and loses the source of life—this is damaging the inner root. Passing through ten thousand kalpas of rebirth, one sinks into the bitter sea of birth and death and cannot transcend it—truly worthy of compassion.

The true body (the genuine, unchanging original nature) lodges in turn in different forms and loses the source of life—this is damaging the inner root. Passing through ten thousand kalpas of rebirth, one sinks into the bitter sea of birth and death and cannot transcend it—truly worthy of compassion.

The way of long life

means realizing and making manifest the genuine, constant original nature, unbound by written words. Mind and nature are originally pure and undefiled, innately complete. As soon as one leaves the entanglements of the false, one can attain the way of long life.

Neither looking nor listening

means forgetting the pull of the bodily senses and abandoning clever ingenuity: outwardly, not clinging to the observation of heaven, earth, and the myriad things; inwardly, not clinging to inquiry into the Great Beginning (the primordial state of the cosmos). One neither ascends Kunlun (the legendary mountain of the immortals) nor roams the Great Void (the vast, boundless emptiness). Rather, one sits in stillness, forgets the body, and lets go of observing and discriminating, so that mind and spirit unite with the realm of Dongxuan (the profound and mysterious realm of the Dao). One accords with the myriad things without partial affection, and does not cling to forms held to be constant and unchanging. The subtle mystery of the Dao cannot be fathomed.

One does not pursue outward splendor and prominence.

One should not take wealth and profit too seriously, nor draw near to riches and rank, nor casually fall in with others, nor deliberately adorn external things. Everyone else is jubilant and chases after bustle, while I alone am filled with caution; everyone else thinks himself clear-sighted, while I alone seem dull and obscure. Cast aside fame, forget power and position, keep one’s person intact and far from harm—only this accords with the Dao (the Way) of Heaven.

Renouncing the World and Leaving the Vulgar

One does not seek distinction in court or marketplace, nor allow oneself to be burdened by wife, children, and kin. Like a lone cloud or a wild crane, one flies in freedom; whether unfolding or drawing in, one harbors no fixation. Only such a person is a cultivator of the true—one who cultivates body and mind and pursues the genuine Dao.

Accumulating Jing (essence) and Completing Shen (spirit)

The worthy value aspiration; the sage values Jing and Qi (vital energy). Inwardly, one nourishes the spirit with a peaceful, gently harmonizing Qi; outwardly, one sustains wisdom-life—the wisdom and the root of life attained through cultivating the Dao—by the subtle methods of the sages. When inner and outer are clear and transparent, awakened nature is full and radiant. Once neither mind nor external conditions are clung to, one can suddenly transcend every affliction and bond. Only by comprehending and practicing this method can cultivation be undertaken.

Quiet Solitude and Wuwei (non-action)

“Wuwei” is not the absence of all action, but refraining from arbitrary action while still being able to bring every kind of affair to completion. Only tranquil simplicity and following what is natural accord with the De (Virtue/Power) of Heaven. Thus it is said: cling to nothing, and yet lack nothing. When the mind is mild and without limit, many excellences follow of themselves.

Stillness and quiet plainness, emptiness without clinging, and accordance with the natural are the peaceful state of heaven and earth, and the very essence of the Dao and De. Therefore the sage is tranquil and unattached, peaceful and easy to be with. When the heart within is peaceful and plain, sorrow and joy cannot disturb it, and deviant Qi cannot assail it. When the spirit is not depleted, De can be preserved intact, and the inner heart remains quiet, undivided, and unchanging.

Hence, although the deep meaning with which the worthy and the sages cultivate the Dao is not easily perceived, one has never heard of any principle by which the achievements of a sage could be accomplished without following the method of Wuwei.

In this way one attains the Dao.

The Dao (the Way) has genuine resonance and is worthy of trust, yet it is Wuwei (non-action) and without form. It can be transmitted, but it cannot be possessed; it can be received, but it cannot be seen with the eyes. The Dao comes into being before Heaven and Earth. Although this is called “coming into being,” it has no name, and it is not birth in the ordinary sense. After the succession of past and present, the Dao still abides. Although this is called “abiding,” it has no concrete image, and it is not existence in the ordinary sense. Therefore the Dao cannot be fathomed by thought, nor is it easy to discuss in words.

Since the Dao cannot be pursued to its very end, how could thinking alone attain it? If living beings simply forget the distinction between the inner mind and the outer world, so that no thought arises, then in breathing, bending and stretching, stepping and walking, they can act of themselves, no longer clinging to the question of “who is doing this.” At that point there is no need to seek an answer outside oneself, like carrying a lamp and still searching everywhere for fire, or wading through the water and still searching everywhere for a ford. To awaken suddenly to one’s original mind is to attain the Dao.

Thereupon a verse is proclaimed for living beings:

The Celestial Worthy expounds the profound secret teaching and, through skillful means, manifests compassion. The rain of the Dharma nourishes living beings, and the mysterious discourse resolves the doubts of all. Taking the ordinary realm as dream and illusion, one guides living beings to realize Xiyi (the state in which the Dao cannot be seen, heard, or touched). One causes water and fire to return to the furnace, and lets clouds and rosy mists envelop Kan and Li (Kan and Li are the images of water and fire in the Bagua (Eight Trigrams), and are also commonly used in Neidan (internal alchemy)). Through emptiness, stillness, and harmonious balance, one can reach the sagely Dao; by maintaining purity and stillness, one can congeal Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) like the lingzhi. When the myriad things each attain their Dao, they can endure; when a person acts in accordance with the Dao, calamity can be kept far away. Roaming freely beyond the Three Realms (the realm of desire, the realm of form, and the formless realm), one lastingly realizes the Dao of Wuwei.