《太上老君说常清静经注(侯善渊)》

When the source of the myriad things has not yet appeared, no water that flows forth fails to be clear; before the wind has begun to stir, nothing among the myriad things fails to be still. Once the current is agitated, clear water turns turbid; once the wind scatters the myriad things, what was at rest begins to move. This is a familiar principle.

The Dao (the Way) gives birth to and nourishes the myriad things. Their original nature is limpid and clear, silent and still, and when it meets with sympathetic response it communicates freely of itself. Later this nature is altered by emotion and desire. People lose their innate genuineness, chase after external things, and forget to return to the source, until they drift through birth and death and often sink into the sea of suffering. Reflecting on this, how can one not feel sorrow?

The Most High Lord Lao, with great compassion and every kind of skillful means, guides those who have lost their way, so that they recover their original root-nature and come to see the Dao. Although the Dao cannot be transmitted in words, how many are there who can realize the Dao by direct personal insight? Nor can the Dao be taught through concrete forms. For this reason one resorts to scriptural texts (Jing) and other teachings—just as, once the fish is caught, the fish basket is forgotten. Teaching is only an instrument for leading people into the Dao; it is not the final aim. This is why this scripture came to be composed.

The scriptural text teaches again and again: clarity is the source of turbidity, and stillness is the foundation of movement. If one can constantly preserve clarity and stillness, one can accord with Heaven and Earth. The human spirit (Shen) originally delights in clarity and stillness, yet it is disturbed by the thoughts of the mind; the human mind originally delights in calm, yet it is drawn along by desire. If one can constantly cast off desire, the mind grows still of itself; if one clarifies the inner heart, the spirit grows luminous of itself.

The scripture then teaches one to look inward at one’s own mind and discover that the mind has no fixed, unchanging “mind”; to look outward at one’s own bodily form and discover that the form likewise has no fixed, unchanging substance; and then to observe the myriad things at a distance and discover that they too have no fixed, unchanging substance. In this way one can be clear and at ease, constantly abiding in stillness. Only when one reaches the point of no longer clinging even to “stillness” is there true stillness. Meeting the myriad things with this true stillness, one gradually enters the true Dao.

The scripture further says that although one speaks of attaining the Dao, in reality there is nothing to be obtained; it is called “attaining the Dao” only for the sake of teaching living beings. This, broadly speaking, is the central purport of this true scripture.

It is said that this scripture was first transmitted by the Queen Mother of the West, passed down by the immortal Ge Xuan and others, and that the Perfected of Great Mystery composed a verse of praise for it, so that it has been revered from generation to generation. Yet some practice it all their lives without seeing any result, and others remain bewildered all their lives and cannot understand it. Few truly grasp the Most High’s compassionate intention to save the world.

Now Master Hou Shanyuan of Mount Li is a cultivator who stands aloof beyond the world. Considering that if the scriptural text can bring people to understanding, it can convey the sacred Dao, he composed a commentary on the scripture according to his own understanding. His writing is concise and easy to grasp, his reasoning is lucid, and it is also easy to put into practice. If one can comprehend it and enter deeply into its meaning, one may begin by casting off desire and eliminate the “three poisons” of greed, anger, and delusion; by contemplating the mind within, one realizes that the myriad things all lack any fixed self-nature; one sets aside clinging and deluded thoughts and guards against the afflictions brought by craving. He carries on the teachings of the ancient sages and worthies and thereby makes these principles clear.

The commentary says that to realize the Dao in non-action (Wuwei) is the proper path, whereas to suppose that one has obtained something and to contrive deliberately is not the proper path. It also says that within the Great Dao there are originally no written words, and within written words there is no Great Dao. Secret instructions such as the celestial texts and the jade formulas must be transmitted orally by a master. Do not cling to “emptiness” as empty, and do not cling to “deliberate action” as truly existent. One must also preserve the inner numinous clarity in its purity, so that the light of body and mind returns to unity.

If students of the Dao can recite and uphold this scripture without turning back, they may hope to realize its mystery for themselves, and need not wait until they have forgotten the teaching before they come to understand.

Respectfully prefaced by Mao Hui, the Old Man of Pingshui.

Hou Shanyuan, Taixuanzi (Master of the Great Mystery) of Mount Gushe, annotates the Scripture of Constant Clarity and Stillness Spoken by the Most High Lord Lao:

Lord Lao says: The Great Dao (the Way) has no form.

What is called “without form” means that the Great Dao is profound and subtle, vast and without limit. It can nourish the mind and Shen (spirit), becoming one with the myriad things. Wondrous and hard to fathom, it has no fixed place. Therefore it is said that the Great Dao has no form.

The verse says: The Great Dao originally has no form, and “formlessness” is only a borrowed name. Look at it, and no concrete thing is seen; listen closely, and no sound is heard. When awakened nature reaches the deep and quiet realm, and one nourishes the spirit, the gaze grows clear. In the great void there is no companion—only a solitary moon shining on Pengying (the legendary realm of the immortals).

The Great Dao generates and nourishes Heaven and Earth.

Heaven and Earth have form and image, and both are generated and nourished by the Great Dao. Thus it is said that the Great Dao generates and nourishes Heaven and Earth.

The verse says: The One Qi (vital energy)—the primordial breath that constitutes Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things—brings Heaven and Earth into being, and the three luminaries, sun, moon, and stars, are within it. The changes of the four seasons display the working of creative transformation, and the myriad things thereby harmonize and blend. If one wishes to understand the method of non-birth, one must realize that the thoughts of the mind can pass beyond the limits of external things. The light of the principle of ultimate truth is inexhaustible and remains constantly in communion with the Great Dao.

The Great Dao is without feeling or intention.

What is called the Great Dao’s “lack of feeling” means that it is limpid and unified, showing no image, empty and still to the utmost, and free of selfish purpose. The myriad things arise from it, yet not through human contrivance, but through transformation that occurs of itself. Therefore it is said that the Great Dao is without feeling or intention.

The verse says: Only without feeling and without desire can one penetrate the Great Dao. The Great Dao generates and nourishes the myriad things and is, from the beginning, without partiality. It holds the Jing (essence) of Heaven and Earth and embraces the light of Heaven and Earth. Above, it reaches the Golden Portal (the palaces of the celestial realm); below, it opens into the Ninefold Darkness (the deep subterranean netherworld). The Great Dao is vast and boundless, hard to measure, mysterious and profound, covering the Jade Capital (the legendary capital of the celestial realm).

The Great Dao sets the sun and moon in motion.

The sun and moon are the mysterious radiance brought forth and nurtured by the Great Dao, and they preside over the spiritual illumination of Heaven and human beings. They circulate through the four directions, shining upon the myriad things without growing dim.

The verse says: The Great Dao is limpid and expansive; at heaven’s edge the sun and moon course on for long. They travel the circuit of Heaven and Earth, then rise to illumine the far distance, revealing a numinous and pure radiance, cycling and returning so that their light is as one. Those who penetrate the Great Dao understand the principle within this, and the realm of the immortals lies close at hand.

The Great Dao (the Way) originally has no name. What is called “the nameless” is the Great Dao itself. Profound and subtle, its principles inexhaustible, the undifferentiated primordial Qi (vital energy)—the source-energy present before heaven, earth, and the myriad things came into being—existed prior to heaven and earth, and therefore originally had no name. A verse of praise says: The Great Dao gives rise to the void and is originally without form; only in order to speak of it is a name provisionally set down. Though it has a name, it has no fixed form or appearance; though it is said to be without things, it is not emptiness in the ordinary sense. Its light penetrates the Three Heavens and shines upon the four seas. It opens people’s clear and tranquil vision, so that they may leap and soar freely, swift as a shooting star.

The Great Dao nourishes the myriad things. Vast and formless, deep, still, and unmoving, pure, unitary, bright, and unsullied, it covers heaven and earth, sets the sun and moon in motion, drives the turning of the rivers, orders mountains and streams, embraces valleys and ravines, moistens gardens and groves, and brings the five grains to ripeness and flowers and fruits to fullness. All things are born by receiving the Qi of the Dao; originally they follow what is natural and act without deliberate purpose. As the seasons change, they grow and transform of themselves. The Great Dao is itself without form, yet it nurtures the myriad things that have form; hence it is said to “foster and nourish the myriad things.” A verse of praise says: The Great Dao gives rise to the flourishing myriad things; vital impulse moves all things to change naturally. Mists spread out and light falls across vast expanses; grasses and trees grow thick and brighten the mountains. Plains join with streams and valleys, and clear tones echo beneath the azure sky. If one can awaken to this Dao, one can experience this true land of blessing; here too dwell immortals who live in seclusion and cultivate the Way.

Laozi said, “I do not know its name.” The Great Dao stands alone and at ease, subtle, mysterious, and far-reaching. It has neither arising nor perishing, neither increase nor decrease, and its appearing and concealing follow no fixed manner. Living beings cannot comprehend it. The Most High Lord Lao, out of compassion, therefore provisionally established a name for it. A verse of praise says: The mysterious Great Dao is hard to grasp; once the apertures of the mind open, wisdom appears of itself. The primordial Shen (spirit)—a person’s original true spirit—arises and its foundation grows firm; within emptiness and stillness one realizes perfect clarity and illumination. In the sea-treasury a brilliant pearl congeals; upon the mountain summits the essential radiance of sun and moon gathers. Light like a precious mirror fills the sky and shines upon the Jade Capital (the celestial city of the immortals, as spoken of in Daoism).

Therefore, one can only reluctantly call it the “Dao.”

The Dao (the Way) originally has no name. Once a name is fixed upon it, it is easy to take it for some concrete thing; if “no-mind” is understood as thinking of nothing at all and sinking into empty stillness, one likewise strays into a hollow void. Being and non-being depend upon each other, and hidden depth and light and darkness reflect one another. The Dao can manifest different forms along with things, and it never departs from everyday life. Its true method is difficult to mark off precisely in words, so one can only call it the “Dao” by a provisional name.

The verse says: The Dao cannot originally be explained in words; it can only be named provisionally and set forth by distinction. When mind and Shen (spirit) are clear, refined, and luminous, primordial Qi (vital energy) gathers; when original nature is at rest, numinous Qi condenses like clouds. A fresh wind rises over the sea, and an ancient moon ascends at the edge of heaven. The mind is empty and bright, so that things and the self both appear clearly, and the myriad forms can all be embraced together.

The Dao has two states, the clear and the turbid.

What is called “clear” means that it is empty, open, and vast: the depths of the spirit are silent, vacant, and luminous, and primordial Qi is mild and harmonious, and so it is called “clear.” What is called “turbid” means that the Dao pervades all things, and there is nothing it cannot contain or enter; it courses through the world of heaven and earth, so fine that it can pass into the tip of a hair. Thus it is said that the Dao has both the clear and the turbid.

The verse says: Clarity and turbidity determine whether things float or sink; the movement of Yin-Yang runs through past and present. The sky lets down a vision like jade; the earth is thick and weighty, and precious trees grow upon it. On clear days one keeps to the path of Caoxi; spiritual intent is gathered and settled, and the sea of the Dharma is deep and vast. Only by understanding this principle can the original mind of one who cultivates the Dao be revealed.

The Dao also has two states, movement and stillness.

What is called “stillness” means that the Great Dao is silent and without mind; what is called “movement” means that its wondrous function is stirred by sympathetic response and reaches through to the mysterious principle. When movement and stillness work together, the true Dao can be accomplished.

The verse says: When movement and stillness unite, the working of the Dao unfolds in grandeur. The radiance of the divine elixir shines toward the sun; the celestial hun is gathered back to the station of Kan, and the terrestrial po enters the palace of Li. At the bottom of the sea the dragon churns the waves; on the mountain crest the tigers contend. Gather them and return them to the realm of Vast Heaven, and nature and life can be prolonged.

“Heaven is clear” means that the one Qi (vital energy) of Primordial Unity—the original Qi from before heaven and earth had separated—fills the void, vast and profound. “Earth is turbid” means that the earth gives birth to and nurtures the myriad things: anything can be planted and harvested upon it, and it also bears the filth of the common people. This is why it is said that heaven is clear and earth is turbid.

The verse says: The Qi of earth joins the boundless sky, and heaven’s clear light spreads in every direction. Ancient traces lie buried between heaven and earth, while newly arising scenes run through above and below. Those of penetrating understanding turn toward the path of returning to the root and recovering the true, and calmly enter the realm of cultivating the Dao (the Way). The Jade Infant—the inner spiritual nature spoken of in cultivation, or an image of Neidan (internal alchemy)—ascends the precious hall and, gazing afar, sees the Miluo River.

Heaven moves in its course, while earth quietly receives.

What is meant by movement and stillness is this: the heavenly bodies revolve, and celestial phenomena spontaneously give rise to countless transformations—the stars shift their places, the Northern Dipper turns, and the Dao of heaven operates as though it held the pivot. What is meant by the stillness of earth is that, even when the wind blows and the waves surge, the earth silently bears it all, neither avoiding filth nor contending with it. This is why it is said that heaven moves and earth is still.

The verse says: The earth is still, and is Wuwei (non-action) from the beginning; the pivot of heaven turns with the handle of the Dipper. The myriad things come into being not by deliberate contrivance; within this there is of itself a subtle, numinous mechanism of transformation. Looking as far as the eye can reach, the autumn moon is bright; concentrating the spirit and gazing intently, the sunlight is crystalline. One gathers the single Yang (yang Qi) into the cauldron, an image of refining and nurturing the Neidan, and by the method of advancing the fire—applying the firing times according to the stages of cultivation—nourishes the spirit tortoise, a symbolic image in Neidan practice.

Here, “the male is clear and the female is turbid”: male refers to yang and female to yin. What is meant is true yin and true yang, not the men and women of the ordinary world. True yin and true yang can be seen, yet they cannot be clung to or pursued; and when they are put to use, they are again without form or appearance. The Daodejing, the Classic of the Dao and its Virtue, says that among the myriad things there is none that does not turn its back to yin and face yang. Therefore the outer belongs to yang and the inner to yin: the outer means the body, and the inner means mind and nature. Even if a cultivator’s body is still, this may be called “the male clear”; if mind and nature are agitated and unsettled, this may be called “the female turbid.”

The verse says: The body may be still, yet the mind is not necessarily still; the body may be pure, yet mind and nature are not necessarily clear and bright. Lost from one’s original truth, doubtful and bewildered, with thoughts in disorder—how can one be at peace? One should turn the light back upon one’s own mind and return it to the golden cauldron, a symbol of Neidan cultivation; gather in the light of the mind and return it to the precious vase, an image of inner refinement. In this way one can understand the principle and open the eye of the Dao, the wisdom that discerns the Great Dao. Why worry that the cultivation cannot be brought to full completion?

The male moves, and the female is still.

What is called “male movement” does not primarily refer to sexual union between man and woman. It moves and has not yet settled; once it settles, it moves no longer. The “movement” spoken of here is the arising of Yang Qi (vital energy), like the sun appearing after the clouds disperse, and like a mirror that, once polished bright, again shines with light. Thus “Yin returning to Yang” means that Yin Qi returns to Yang Qi, and this is what is called “male movement.” If one can clearly open and manifest the eye of the Dao (the Way)—the wisdom that discerns the Great Dao—need one still fear that the cultivation cannot be brought to completion?

What is called “female stillness” means that, after the way of Yang opens of itself, Shen (spirit) is transformed and becomes empty, luminous, and clear. When the mind is without lust or deviance, without hatred or partial love, without greed or anger, and without jealousy, and when deluded thoughts do not arise and vain imaginings are not born, this is “female stillness.” There is also another explanation: the Li trigram of the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) is empty within, and the Kan trigram is solid within; one takes the solidity within the Kan trigram in order to transform the emptiness within the Li trigram. This is called the method of inverting Yin-Yang and of reversion, by which the Dao of pure Yang may be cultivated to completion. The verse says: By the method of inverting Yin and Yang, mercury and lead are gathered and refined in the furnace; clear light illuminates the earth, and red flames burst forth across the whole circuit of heaven; the White Tiger lies in the pool, and the Azure Dragon sleeps within the fire. When a form like true jade has been refined, the embryo immortal—the immortal body attained through cultivation—can dance outside the body.

“The root descends and flows into the branches” means that the peripheral streams are born from the root. The Dao and De (Virtue/Power) are the root of the myriad things. Primordial Qi—the source Qi from the first arising of heaven and earth that transforms and nurtures all things—is harmonious, empty, and still, and manifests of itself. When the myriad things obtain this root, they can grow and be nourished without withering, their branches and leaves abundant; when a person obtains this root, Shen cannot be fathomed, and one can penetrate transformation without any constraint. The verse says: The Qi of the root is harmonious and finely beautiful, and the myriad things grow of themselves according to their conditions; two streams of red mist rise, and one stream of white smoke pours forth; the tiger drinks the marrow of the Golden Crow (the sun), and the dragon swallows the Jing (essence) of the Jade Rabbit (the moon). These two are both true supreme treasures, and one who comprehends them will naturally manifest numinous subtlety.

The Qi of clarity and stillness is the source of turbid Qi,

When water is clear and deep, it can reflect all things, and the shapes of objects appear of themselves; this is unlike turbid water. Clear spring water is used as a metaphor for the state of mind of one who cultivates.

The verse says: The state of mind is deep and thoroughly transparent; the substance of the Dao (the Way) is tranquil, reflecting all things and penetrating to the source. Yang Jing (essence) fills the Jade Door (in the cultivation of Neidan (internal alchemy), the area of the lower Dantian (energy center)), and a vast Qi (vital energy) surges within the Golden Pass (a vital aperture in cultivation). After the Qi of Yin-Yang has been harmonized, the Hall of Kan (symbolizing the Kan trigram of the Bagua (Eight Trigrams), water, and Yin) is matched with the Palace of Li (symbolizing the Li trigram, fire, and Yang). Only then does one perceive that the Mysterious Pearl (in Neidan cultivation, the name for what is obtained when Jing and Qi coalesce) descends and takes form, its radiance shooting to the heavens, red and bright as the sun.

Stillness is the root of movement.

Stillness is the Dao; it is vast emptiness. Shen (spirit—a person’s spiritual and luminous functioning) operates within it, going out and coming in without obstruction, and becomes one with the profound and mysterious realm. Therefore it is said that stillness is the root of movement.

The verse says: Silent and still, empty of anything at all, the luminous spirit unites with the substance of the Dao. Heaven is clear as azure waves; Earth is settled, while crimson billows surge. The Four Images (four basic transformations, including those of Yin-Yang) gather at the mouth of the furnace; the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water) enter the cauldron. A crimson elixir is refined, and after one ingests it, it is as if one were setting out for the palaces of the immortals.

If a person can constantly preserve clarity and stillness,

Heaven is constantly clear and still, and so the sun, moon, and stars are bright and pure, open, luminous, and crystal-clear. When a person is constantly clear and still, Jing, Qi, and Shen can rest in peace and will not scatter. Therefore it is said that a person can constantly preserve clarity and stillness.

The verse says: Unsullied by sensual desire, one cuts off the disturbances of coming and going in the dusty world. The light of nature (the luminous light within original nature) appears like a brilliant sun, and the state of mind opens as wide as the distant sky. With the one Qi one cooks and refines the image of the primordial beginning, and by means of the Twin Passes (the vital apertures through which the movement of Qi passes in cultivation) one refines and nourishes Jing and Qi. Spirit courses through the cosmos, and radiance extends throughout the three thousand worlds.

All things of Heaven and Earth will return within it.

If a person can be clear and still, one can penetrate wondrous principles and ascend into Wuwei (non-action—the state of according with what is natural and not acting willfully), reaching throughout Heaven and Earth and also as finely as a speck of dust. Therefore it is said that all things of Heaven and Earth will return within it.

The verse says: Within clarity and stillness one reaches Wuwei, and from Wuwei one penetrates the mysterious workings. The Jade Rabbit runs in the palace of the moon; the Golden Crow flies in the palace of the sun. Numinous light flashes, sending forth a thousand radiances, breaking open the myriad phenomena and making them bright and glorious. It embraces every form and appearance; therefore all things of Heaven and Earth will return within it.

The human spirit originally delights in clarity and stillness, yet it is disturbed by emotion. What is called the “human spirit” refers to the luminous, intelligent nature formed by the condensation of the refined and excellent Qi (vital energy) of heaven and earth. It is originally pure and at peace, yet it gives rise to feelings in response to external things, becoming stained by worldly dust and covered with grime. The hymn says: wealth and rank obscure the mind and Shen (spirit), and glory and splendor veil the eyes; even though one can see the sun and moon, one cannot see one’s original true nature. Only by quietly nurturing one’s innate nature and clarifying the empty void can one refine and cultivate the supreme Shen, and ultimately attain liberation.

The human mind originally delights in quiet, yet it is drawn along by desire. The “mind” spoken of here is spirit-intelligence: the inner nature is called nature, and the function that manifests outwardly is called Shen. Shen is originally clear and still, yet it becomes disturbed in following external things and is stirred by emotion. The hymn says: with eyes open one seems to discern the hidden workings of heaven, yet the mind is often lost where attachment lies; emotion and desire disturb one another, and in chasing outer objects one turns as those objects turn. If one can hold fast to original truth and penetrate what is subtle and refined, one may return to simplicity; taking the single true nature to embrace the myriad things, one brings mind and Shen into accord with the profound and secluded realm.

If one can constantly cast off desire, the mind will naturally become quiet. To cast off desire is to let go of craving and clinging, and not to let stray thoughts and clever contrivance constrain oneself; in this way one’s nature is naturally at ease, and the mind is naturally still. The hymn uses images of cultivation such as “guarding stillness,” “embracing the jade infant,” and “refining true feeling” to describe the process of guarding stillness and nourishing Shen, and of condensing and refining true nature, until at last the “mysterious pearl,” symbol of accomplished cultivation, is formed and offered up to Shangqing (the higher immortal realm spoken of in Daoism).

Make the mind clear and bright, and Shen naturally becomes pure. Clarifying the mind and settling intention lets mind and Shen sink into stillness and lucidity and return to the source, just as the surface of water no longer ripples; hence it is said, “clarify the mind, and Shen purifies itself.” The hymn says: if one wishes to recognize the source of luminous awareness, one must know that emptiness is right before the eyes; when the mind is clear, like the bright moon appearing, one’s nature is likewise full and luminous. The refined and excellent Qi can reach through to the sacred and divine; as Shen and Qi circulate and transform, they can become an immortal body. Roaming freely, one returns to the immortal realm of the sea islands and abides long in ease within the Three Realms.

In this way, the six desires naturally do not arise. The six desires refer to the cravings produced by the six faculties of eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind.

The six desires—those arising from the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—naturally cease to arise. What is called “not arising” means that the eyes see forms yet are not drawn along by appearances; the ears hear sounds yet are not confused by tone and sensual allure; the nose breathes evenly and does not cling to fragrance or stench; the tongue tastes food yet does not crave sour or sweet flavors; the body keeps its guard without attachment and does not covet things “with outflow” (things that keep one entangled in affliction); and the mind preserves its innate nature, unconfused by outer circumstances. In this way the six desires return to their original truth and naturally do not arise.

The verse says: Return to the original truth, and the six harms can be removed; when the outflows of affliction are exhausted, the three calamities can be escaped. Understand the original nature of mind and consciousness, and one can penetrate the profound and mysterious Dao (the Way); know one’s own mind, and the wisdom-eye of the Dao opens. The wooden figure—a metaphor for a person without passion or desire, whose mind is unmoved by external things—roams the vast heavens, and the stone maiden—a metaphor for a state beyond ordinary worldly begetting—plays upon the steps of the immortals. At sunset on an autumn night, the edge of the sky seems to cradle a bright moon.

The three poisons—the evil karma and afflictions produced by body, mind, and mouth—are eliminated completely. The three poisons are bodily karma, mental karma, and verbal karma; to extinguish them is to nurture well Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit), and to remove greed, anger, and jealousy.

The verse says: The six desires turn into a golden treasury, and the three calamities become a precious pearl; the seven emotions take on no stain, and the ten evils are forever removed. Wipe the ice terrace clean until it is clear and bright, so that its radiance appears of itself and is not drawn back. Embracing this purity, one may wander through the human world and step alone into the realm of pure emptiness.

The reason cultivation does not succeed is that passion and desire cannot be removed, and attachment still remains in the mind.

The verse says: If one cannot cultivate to this purity, one cannot embrace the realm of pure emptiness and walk alone within it.

The reason cultivation does not succeed is that passion and desire cannot be removed, and something is still clung to in the mind.

The verse says: If one cannot cultivate the Dao in this way, mind and nature turn back and instead give rise to doubt; sitting in meditation only wastes mental effort, and investigating Chan only wearies the spirit. Whether walking, sitting, in daily life, or lying down to sleep, vexation always follows. If one wishes to open the clear wisdom-eye, the light of Shen must fill the inner mind.

This is because mind and nature have not yet grown clear and still. When mind and spirit are unsettled, disturbance increases; the spirit races outward, attention dwells on outer scenes, and one clings to external things.

The verse says: The highest good is like the heart of water in a deep abyss; when clear, it can reflect the azure sky. Worldly feelings often bring suffering, and people are drawn along by karmic conditions. Chase the waves and true nature is lost; drift with the current and the original source is forgotten. A single point of numinous clarity sinks into the sea of suffering, and through ten thousand kalpas it can hardly return.

This is because desire has not yet been dispelled.

If a person can never, throughout an entire life, break free of desire, external things will in turn pull upon the inner mind. A verse says: if one spends one’s practice on illusory, deluded thoughts, one will be drawn along by worldly affairs; chasing external conditions, one loses the true nature, drifts with the current, and forgets the very root of life. Once a spark of numinous clarity falls into the sea of suffering, even after myriad kalpas it is hard to return.

Desire has not yet been dispelled.

If a person can never, throughout an entire life, break free of desire, external things will in turn pull upon the inner mind. Another verse says: if cultivation clings to illusion and delusion, it runs counter to the true Dao (the Way); human contrivance is as fleeting as a film, and clinging to outer appearances is as hard to grasp as the wind. Though external things are false, mind-nature itself is not false; though the body is empty and illusory, original nature is not empty. If a spark of numinous clarity knows its own master, it can penetrate all phenomena.

One who is able to dispel desire,

even while dwelling among the myriad things, is not inwardly pulled by external objects; the mind rests at ease in the formless realm, and the spirit (Shen) is nourished within the subtle. A verse says: nourish the inner mind, and one can reach the hidden workings of the sacred Dao; when the mind has no form or image, it accords with the void. The mind is clear and still, like limpid waves that do not rise; deep and remote, unfathomable as the Yang Abyss. Spirit circulates between heaven and earth, manifesting a vast and wondrous power. Moonlight illumines heaven and earth, and a clear breeze keeps company, escorting one back to pure stillness.

Looking inward upon one’s own mind, one finds that within the mind there is no “mind” that can be grasped;

turning back to observe the inner mind, silent and settled in stillness, one no longer clings to “having a mind.” The “mind” spoken of here is the lucid, clear-eyed state that can illuminate the true mind. The true mind is pure, quiet, and still, free of anything extraneous, wholly undifferentiated and one, and so it is called “mind.” A verse says: reflecting inward, one can see the Heavenly Mind (the fundamental true nature within), perfectly integrated and luminous, deep and clear as azure. Call it nonexistent, and yet it is not truly empty nothingness; call it existent, and yet it is hard to find. Mountains and seas cannot block it, nor can heavenly calamities and misfortunes encroach upon it. Whom does the perfected person (zhenren) take as companion? The clear wind and the bright moon are true intimates.

Looking outward upon one’s own bodily form, one finds that the form likewise has no fixed, unchanging “form.”

The physical form is made up of four constituents: earth, water, fire, and wind. This kind of body is a “body of outflows,” that is, a form that arises and perishes and is subject to all manner of limitation. Only what goes beyond the body of outflows is true nature, without form and without marks. Contemplating this markless truth is like looking up at the moon in the water, and like watching the clear wind move through the sky: concentrate Shen (spirit) and gather Qi (vital energy), and the true Dao (the Way) can be cultivated to completion.

The verse says: Seen from the outside, the body bears all kinds of marks of arising and ceasing; these illusory appearances are what bring the true form into view. Whether coming or going, they leave no fixed trace, moving of themselves and never resting. Deep within lies a state dim and hard to discern; within and without, all is profound and still. The state of mind opens and eases as ice melts; settling into quiet, the awakened sea of the mind becomes clear and lucid.

Observed from afar, the myriad things are found to have no fixed substance of their own.

Once mind, physical form, and the myriad things—these three—have all been understood, one knows that they return to nothingness. Here the “three” mean mind, physical form, and external things; to “awaken” is to understand thoroughly. “No thing” does not mean that there is nothing there at all, but that the myriad things have no fixed, unchanging substance. The scripture says: “Within the vague and indistinct, there are nonetheless the myriad things.” Thus, although the myriad things appear, there is no fixed “thing.”

The verse says: The realm of the vague and indistinct is vast without bound, as if within a gourd there were another fair heaven and earth. From the mouth of the furnace pours a spiritual medicine like jade liquor; in the elixir cauldron golden flowers well up. The tiger sports around the luminous pearl; the dragon breathes out clouds and rosy mist for ten thousand li. Parting the clouds and mist to look, what is held forth seems a jewel that shines in the night. These images borrow the language of elixir refinement to describe, in the course of cultivation, the inner coalescence of Jing (essence) and Qi and the manifestation of spiritual luminosity.

When mind, physical form, and the myriad things—these three—have all been awakened to, one sees only emptiness.

From within to without, from the center to the surface, one no longer clings to anything; this is the realm of “emptiness.” Here “emptiness” means clinging neither to being nor to non-being.

All that is inner, outer, and in between is no longer clung to. The state of mind becomes harmonious, bright, and pure, open and at ease, and one enters the realm of Wuwei (non-action). Thus it is said that, in the end, one simply sees emptiness.

The verse says: Contemplating emptiness does not mean taking forms and appearances for sheer nothingness; forms and appearances are themselves true emptiness. Only when body and things are forgotten and dissolve does one know that the myriad things are originally the same as high antiquity. The workings of the world have no end, and discriminative reckoning is likewise inexhaustible. The Heavenly Net and the Mysterious Net are vast without bound, covering heaven and earth and running through the four quarters.

Contemplating Emptiness, and Emptiness as Well

What is called “contemplating emptiness” means that the Dao (the Way) is vast and without fixed marks, and the myriad phenomena have no fixed form. What is called “emptiness as well” means that although marvelous transformations are beyond conception, they ultimately return to unity and revert to original truth.

The verse says: Spirit-light shines and washes the clear sky clean; the spirit roams the four seas and passes freely everywhere. In deep obscurity it pervades heaven and earth; amid the vague and indistinct it is one with the Great Void. The bright moon in the blue sky shines clear and brilliant; the wind in the azure heavens drifts light and easy. Lengthwise and crosswise, above and below, east, west, south, and north—there is nowhere it does not reach.

Emptiness in Which There Is Nothing to Empty

What is called “emptiness” is not clinging to emptiness. What is called “nothing to empty” means that although one speaks of emptiness, one clings neither to emptiness nor to being. In this way the mind meets the mystery within Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate).

The verse says: The Dao is boundless and without limit, moving and transforming in the depths. Because it has no bodily form, it is called the Great Dao; because it departs from form and appearance, it is called true suchness. The myriad things are originally one, without division. The Three Illuminations (sanming—in Daoism, the wisdom that discerns past, present, and future) are thereby made manifest. Open and unobstructed, the wondrous teaching unfolds from this, and the plain, simple light of the myriad ways spreads and flows forth.

When What Is Emptied Is Already Nothing, Even Non-Nothing Is Nothing

When one fully awakens to mind and nature, penetrates the root, recognizes original nature, and returns to the source, one no longer clings to talk of being and nonbeing. Talk of being and nonbeing is only a provisional name. Without such names, how would the true mind appear? Thus being may be revealed through nonbeing. Nonbeing is not a principle that falls into blank nothingness; it does not exclude being. Nor can being be fully explained by concrete things. Therefore being and nonbeing are both, from the beginning, the principle of what is naturally so.

The verse says: The supreme oral instruction is the Way of pure emptiness; one should understand that it transcends all things in the world. Bright radiance illumines the vast sky; clear light shines upon the vault of heaven. When cauldron and furnace break open, the mind-pearl shows its brilliance; when the furnace fire is kindled, the sun of wisdom rises. The elixir mercury (dangong—a term of Neidan, internal alchemy, referring to the transformations of Jing, essence, and Qi, vital energy, in cultivation) condenses into limpid clarity and, turning, enters the Palace of Vast Cold (Guanghan Gong—in Daoism and ancient myth, the palace of the moon).

When Even Non-Nothing Is Already Nothing, One Is Limpid and Ever Still

When even the thought of “non-nothing” no longer remains, the state of mind becomes clear and settled, constantly still and silent.

When one understands that “emptiness” is not the same as there being nothing at all, and does not cling to “existence,” one comes to know that original nature is clear and peaceful, ever dwelling in stillness. The verse says: The state of mind is clear and flawless, discerning what is subtle and hidden, like starlight piercing the darkness; the movement of Qi (vital energy) between heaven and earth is full and unobstructed, and the myriad things stand bright and open. Awareness is lucid, the mind empty, still, and at ease; the spirit settles into quiet and is no longer startled by dreams. All at once one steps onto the ancient and simple Dao (the Way), like the bright moon illuminating a city as clear as crystal.

Though the mind is still, one does not cling to “stillness”—how, then, could desires arise?

It is not that one deliberately seeks stillness; only thus can one be truly still. From this it may be said that the nature of innate simplicity appears before the eyes, and the mysterious Dao returns to its source—how could desires arise? The verse says: Once stillness settles, external things and stray thoughts are all set aside; with an empty mind one nurtures the vast and righteous Qi. The countenance is as clear as the bright moon, the eyes as limpid as a cold spring. One returns in clarity to what is originally true, and dim, confused thoughts vanish along with it. The mind is like a deep pool of crystalline autumn water, where countless streams gather into a pure and profound source.

Since desires no longer arise, one reaches true purity and stillness.

For desires not to arise is to wash away tangled thoughts, let every craving disperse, and leave the mind still and free of seeking. How, then, could desires arise? What is called “true stillness” means that the light of Shen (spirit) shines forth in empty clarity, the nature of spiritual illumination appears, and one at last returns to purity and stillness. The verse says: The pure and still mind reaches the sacred realm; through Wuwei (non-action) efficacy arises. Pearl-like radiance gathers within the golden cauldron, and treasure forms inside the jade flask. The light of the mind is bright as the sun high in the sky, pure as the clear wind within a grotto-heaven. From empty stillness and harmonious balance auspicious radiance is born, its glow enveloping the Palace of the Five Brilliances (in the Daoist context, a celestial palace).

Preserve the constant true self while according with external things; in responding to the myriad things, keep the mind-nature of that true self.

What is called “attaining one’s nature” is realizing the true, constant, and wondrous Dao. By according with the changes of things and responding as the occasion requires, one can see original nature in the midst of response; understanding that original nature is empty and numinous, one can truly obtain one’s own nature. The verse says: The realm of true stillness is settled and free of doubt; sunlight strikes the eyes and reveals brightness. Practicing the method of pacing the void (in Daoist liturgy, a method of walking combined with visualization), one penetrates mysterious principle; circling to and fro, one grasps what is deep and hidden. The myriad things each answer one another, yet the wonder within them is hard to put into words. Looking back upon a scene green as misty waves, one smiles, points toward the grotto-heaven, and sets out on the road home.

To respond constantly to things, and also to remain constantly still—this is true purity and stillness.

What is called “constant response” means constantly contemplating external things and one’s own inner mind: one sees external things and also sees one’s own mind; once the thoughts of the mind are seen, one no longer clings to external things; and when attachment to external things is let go, a realm of clear and lucid emptiness can appear within the mind. Thus it is said that what is truly constant is the original nature realized in this way. The verse says: clarity and purity are the foundation, and nature and disposition manifest of themselves within them; the two vital apertures in body and mind are filled with Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), and a current of primordial Qi continues without interruption. With thorough comprehension, one understands the true principle; when the mind’s Shen (spirit) is concentrated and settled, one can apprehend the mysterious and subtle Dao (the Way). Within emptiness one discerns the forms of the myriad things and, by according with transformation, manifests the pre-heaven original reality.

When such true stillness is reached, one gradually enters the true Dao.

Only those who diligently cultivate in this way and maintain true clarity and true stillness can penetrate wondrous principles too subtle to put into words, and realize the natural endowment that transcends the mundane world. Therefore it is said that they gradually enter the true Dao. The verse says: the great Dao is like a clear, deep, and empty abyss, and the light of dawn illumines the whole sky; on the one hand one understands the principle by which the myriad things arise and are transformed, and on the other one accords with the method of nurturing and refining the embryonic immortal. Here “embryonic immortal” refers to the realm of immortals and perfected beings spoken of in cultivation. When nature and disposition are unobstructed, sorrow and affliction are forgotten; when the mind’s Shen is thoroughly connected, one accords with the natural. From this one opens the Formless Realm, returns to the root, and goes back to the primordial beginning.

Once one has entered the true Dao, this is called “attaining the Dao.”

The Dao originally has no name; a name is only borrowed in order to call it the Dao. One recognizes the principle of neither birth nor death; through cultivation an ordinary person reaches the realm of the sage, and from the sagely realm one advances toward numinous illumination; Shen unites with Qi, and Qi reaches the primordial head, and this is then called attaining the Dao. The verse says: the realm of attaining the Dao is profound and lofty, and the bearing of the immortals is celebrated in the world; one dwells at ease in the Nine Heavens and wanders freely through the Three Seas. When cultivation is complete, a golden writ issues its decree; when merit is accomplished, it is recorded in the jade registers. The spirit roams the azure void, and each step crosses the cinnabar empyrean.

Although this is called attaining the Dao, in reality there is nothing to be attained.

One who truly penetrates the great Dao does not cling to what is gained; one who realizes substance and function is not bound by form and image; although one may speak of obtaining, there is no concrete thing that can be possessed, and so it is said that in reality nothing is obtained. The verse says: when lost, it seems as though a thousand mountains and ten thousand rivers lay between; after awakening, one finds that the myriad things return to a single nothingness. If one also takes “nothingness” as something obtained, there is still no true attainment; if one clings to “being,” being on the contrary draws one into entanglement and mutual dependence. What, after all, does so-called “being” amount to? So-called “nothingness” is likewise only a borrowed name. Observe Heaven and Earth, and one understands the great Dao, as if a solitary moon were revealed.

It is called “attaining the Dao” only for the sake of teaching and transforming living beings.

“Attaining the Dao” is merely a borrowed name, used to instruct those who have not yet awakened, and also a provisional expression for speaking of cultivation and the realization of its fruit. Therefore it is said that in reality nothing is attained, yet there is indeed cultivation. The verse says: what is called obtaining is not truly obtaining anything; without cultivation, it cannot be regarded as genuine cultivation either. Attaining the Dao.

Names such as “attaining the Dao” (Dao, the Way) and “cultivating the Dao” are set up only for a time, for people who have not yet awakened, as expedient teachings to guide them toward realizing the fruit of the Dao. Thus it is said that in substance there is nothing to be attained, and yet cultivation truly does exist. The verse says: To think that one has gained something is not true attainment; to be without cultivation is not true cultivation either. The Great Dao is vast and embraces all things; the mind clings to not the slightest thread. The earthly po (corporeal soul) rises into the void, and the heavenly hun (ethereal soul) is gathered at the bottom of the sea. If this most true and most precious treasure is not understood in the course of a life, it will be missed.

One who can understand may transmit the sacred Dao.

One who can understand the Dao of true constancy can gather the minds of the many and bring them into a single whole. Transformations are without end, and going out and coming in meet no obstruction; in this way the sacred Dao is understood. The verse says: Spiritual brightness is like Heaven, tempering form and bone; moonlight enters the deep cavernous abyss. Mount Jing is split open and the fine jade taken out; with a wave of the hand, a storehouse full of golden treasure is opened. Only when one naturally penetrates the sacred Dao does the original mind appear. Change is endless and hard to fathom; by shifting Shen (spirit) and setting transformation in motion, one enters the vast resonance of the Dao.

Lord Lao (Laojun) says: The superior person does not contend.

The Most High (Taishang) says that a person lofty in De (Virtue/Power) rests at ease in the unbound realm of the great void, experiences the wondrous Dao of heavenly truth, and, still and unmoving, has nothing to dispute. The verse says: The superior person understands Heaven’s mandate—how could there still be anything to contend over? In the Dantian (energy center), the place in Daoist cultivation where Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) are stored and nurtured, a spirit medicine like fine jade appears, and from the ground of the mind a numinous growth like jade fungus arises. He sits at ease in the quiet chamber, letting body and mind move freely in the realm of pure emptiness. The spirit child holds the precious moon in his mouth, and the wondrous function thereby becomes vast and pure.

The inferior person delights in contention.

The inferior person clings to methods of teaching others, and so the division of you and me arises; they compete in judging right and wrong, and in the end contention is provoked. The verse says: The inferior person likes to contend for superiority and to display merit and fame. Why cling to outward form? Better to treasure drawing inward and hiding one’s sharp edge. With eyes closed, one concentrates the spirit and sits upright in the quiet chamber; when the eyes open, the mind still merges with a brightness like the sun. Naturally one comes to understand the ancient Dao, and the ground of the mind grows cool and clear.

Superior De is not De.

What is called superior De means that at the very beginning of the Great Beginning there is neither form nor image, and the four directions are deep, remote, and luminously clear. One understands that the mind is originally no-mind; therefore it is said, “Superior De is not De,” that is, one who truly possesses De does not cling to the name “De.” The verse says: Superior De awakens to there being no De to speak of, and also understands that there is nothing to cultivate and yet no place that is not cultivated. The Great Dao abides in the realm of perfect awakening; spirit seems to bear the boat at heaven’s edge. Reaching the other shore, one leaves birth and cessation and does not return to wander among the waves. Letting body and mind pass beyond the void, one returns to original nature and enters Yingzhou (the legendary immortal mountain).

Inferior De clings to De.

Those whose cultivation of De (Virtue/Power) remains at a lower level cling to the techniques of the Lesser Vehicle, treating practice as something deliberately carried out. Although this may appear to possess De, what is ultimately gained returns to emptiness and nothingness, and so it is called “not-De.” To hold such a view is to remain forever distant from the true Dao (the Way).

The verse says: People of lower De deliberately cultivate merit and seek results, vainly chasing only what has form and appearance. Lingering in the idea of “emptiness,” one falls into delusive thoughts; clinging to illusory things is like being trapped by darkness. The Great Beginning originally has no name or designation, yet the Mysterious Origin involves cultivation. When Yang returns, it is as though one sees the sun, and Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) naturally harmonize and grow gentle and yielding.

Those who cling and will not let go cannot be regarded as truly possessing the Dao and De.

The Dao is a state of Wuwei (non-action) and purity—empty, still, and profound. De is wondrous penetration and endless transformation, while substance and function remain calm and constant. Dao and De are seamlessly one, and their principles are inherently connected. What is called clinging is attachment to all manner of deliberately contrived practices.

The verse says: To hold fast to obstructing methods is to fail to penetrate; to expend mind and effort in vain is only to waste one’s labor. Deliberate action leads one astray amid false appearances; only the absence of contrivance accords with true emptiness and stillness. In the vague and elusive, the forms of Heaven and Earth appear; within the dark and unfathomable, the traces of Heaven and Earth can be seen. Shangqing (Supreme Clarity) puts the Great Dao into practice, and wondrous functioning is present within it.

Living beings fail to attain the true Dao because delusive thoughts abide in the mind.

They cannot attain the true Dao because they cling to the various methods that teach people how to cultivate. The deluded mind is the pursuit of lesser methods, the treatment of practice as something deliberately carried out, and a constant remaining within delusive thoughts. The true Dao transforms without fixed pattern; in its functioning it is present everywhere—supremely spiritual and supremely holy—and its principle accords with what is natural. It depends neither on clinging views nor on the deluded mind. This state is called clarity and stillness, which is the cutting off of deviant views.

The verse says: The Great Dao is not remote and empty, nor hard to seek; it is only blocked by the obscuring barriers of the mind. If one leaves these subtle obscurations behind, one can turn into sagely wisdom; if one chases external things, one instead moves toward deviance and delusion. When the mind grows still, there is no hindrance anywhere; when Shen and Qi are clear and bright, how could there be any deviation? It is like a bright sun breaking through the clouds and mists in the depths.

Once the deluded mind arises, the spirit is startled and disturbed.

Once the primordial spirit (Yuan Shen)—a person’s original Shen (spirit)—is startled, it means that deluded thoughts have already arisen in the mind. When the eyes see external things, mental attention shifts along with them, and the primordial spirit can no longer rest securely in the mysterious and subtle realm. The Daodejing says: “Only by constantly being without desire can one observe the subtlety of the Dao (the Way); if one constantly harbors desire, one can only observe the margins of things.” Once one looks merely at the margins of things, the primordial spirit is disturbed.

The verse says: If one does not understand the primordial spirit, how can one speak of the body beyond the body—the body that transcends physical form, as spoken of in Daoist cultivation? Deluded thoughts lead a person on, and jealousy arises; as thoughts chase external things, craving and anger rise in turn. In this way one forever loses the mysterious primordial Great Dao and constantly strays from the true Dao of highest antiquity. Even if the sun and moon can be seen, all that fills the eyes is still the turmoil of the dusty world.

Once the primordial spirit is disturbed, a person becomes attached to the myriad things.

Unable to abide in the mysterious and subtle realm, and attending only to external things, one grows confused and sinks into delusion, turned upside down and out of proper order, lingering among the surfaces and margins of things.

The verse says: The cycle of birth and death arises from self-reliance that cannot find peace and ease; the cycle never ceases because sentient beings still harbor emotional thoughts. Deluded thoughts cause the inner mind to lose right principle, and attachment to external things makes the Great Dao hard to cultivate. Leave desire behind, observe the realm of emptiness and clarity, and return toward the true Dao, and one’s vision becomes clear and bright. Circulating in this way without obstruction, the mind is open and calm.

After one becomes attached to the myriad things, craving arises.

If one cannot understand all phenomena, one is bound by the myriad things; when the mind is tied to external objects, emotional attachments arise, and craving love never comes to rest.

The verse says: Turning along with external things, one grows ever more greedy; lost in emotional thoughts, when will one ever stop? If the mind that chases fame and profit is not stilled, wealth and sensual desire take hold within the heart. Thought after thought arises in dependence on external things, and a person cannot be free and at ease. A whole life is wasted in this way—how, then, can one awaken and make the mind’s eye clear?

When craving arises, one falls into affliction.

If craving does not cease, affliction, sorrow, and suffering follow, and in the end misfortune is brought on as well.

The verse says: Craving love is deeply rooted in the six sense faculties—eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind. When emotional thoughts are confused and disordered, one enters a place where karmic offenses grow thick. One should cast off sorrow early and not let afflictions disturb oneself. Purify body and mind, cultivate the body and one’s life, and temper the original mind by the Dao of Wuwei (non-action). Concentrate the Shen, gaze upward into the vast heavens, and one can hear the sound of purity and stillness beyond the dusty world.

Afflictions and deluded imaginings cause body and mind to suffer worry and pain. If one merely lets the body endure all kinds of effortful, purposive labor, the toil is often without result; the body suffers, the inner mind is also tormented, the mind-nature is thereby thrown into disorder, and the primordial spirit can hardly find peace. One should temper the original mind by the Dao of Wuwei, concentrate the Shen and gaze up into the heavens, and experience the sound of purity and stillness beyond the dusty world.

(The final section of the scripture as given is repetitive, and some sentences also appear to contain omissions or disorder; the above is read according to where the meaning coheres.)

The body is weighed down by all kinds of purposeful doings. One stays busy yet nothing comes of it: the body grows weary, the heart is troubled, the temperament falls into disorder, and the spirit (Shen) scatters with it. The verse says: Craving races about like an unruly horse; giving the mind free rein is as restless as a monkey. Delusive thoughts turn a person upside down and throw them into confusion; even amid the torment of sorrow, one still pursues things bitterly. The spirit grows dull and clings to the outward appearance of things; one’s nature is benighted and keeps sinking with desire. Turning away from the nature that is awakened and clear, one loses the way and sinks, and for a long time cannot find release.

And so one suffers defilement and disgrace.

Body and mind are sorrowful and in pain, sunk in defilement and shame; this is brought about by the confusion of one’s thoughts. The verse says: Licentiousness lets desire drag the body about; turbidity and indulgence cloud the feelings of the heart. Open the eyes and uphold the pure, unmixed Qi (vital energy); ease the brows so that the gaze grows clear. Unfold the fair scenes between heaven and earth, so that Taiyuan (symbolizing a realm deep, vast, and pure) all at once becomes limpid and bright. In accord with the images of heaven and earth, Yang Jing (essence; what Daoism calls the essential Qi of yang harmony) spreads through all things, and radiance appears.

Wandering amid birth and death,

the heart is caught by external things. Turning away from the correct Dao (the Way) and heading onto a deviant path, one cycles without cease between birth and death. The verse says: When will birth and death ever come to an end? On what day will transmigration stop? If one only follows the principle of clarity and stillness, all things become clear.

Wandering amid birth and death,

the heart is caught by external things. Turning away from the correct Dao and heading onto a deviant path, one cycles without cease between birth and death. The verse says: When will birth and death ever come to an end? On what day will transmigration stop? If one only follows the principle of clarity and stillness, one should let one’s own heart settle. At night one meets the rising of the stars and moon; all day one holds a brightness like the sun. The bright precious mirror (a metaphor for a clear and lucid state of mind) shines through the whole sky, and its light spreads over the Great Divine Continent (meaning the vast world).

Constantly sunk in the sea of suffering,

the awakened dwell in the sea of awakening, while the lost dwell in the sea of suffering. What is called “constantly sinking” is to be blind to the root of original truth, and therefore always to sink in the sea of suffering. The verse says: Desire has no end, and the body is like a broken, leaking boat. The water is deep and hard to escape; the shore is vast—how can one reach it? Amid birth and death one drifts with the waves, and through transmigration one turns with external conditions. Lost and sunk in the sea of suffering, nature and life decline together.

Forever losing the true Dao.

Unable to penetrate the ultimate principle, one rashly takes up every kind of doing, thinks one’s own ability supreme, and chases after empty and useless methods, until in the end one forever loses the true Dao. The verse says: One does not seek the Dao of true constancy, but only pursues affairs of purposeful action. One’s nature is lost and in the end cannot settle; one’s thoughts are in turmoil, and doubts only increase. The Dao of supreme goodness is pure as clear water; the source of spiritual nature is broad and deep. The Golden Spring (a metaphor for pure and abundant Jing and Qi) surges high, fills the Heavenly Pool, and light shines forth.

The Dao of true constancy,

True Constancy refers to the principle that remains ever constant and unchanging. It operates in everyday life, yet it is empty, still, and without form, and so it is called the Constant Dao (the Way). The verse says: when the working of the spirit reaches pure truth and constancy, one can understand the root of Dao and of De (Virtue/Power). The jade furnace gathers white snow, and the golden cauldron condenses red frost; the earth seems to split open, revealing the confirmation of an illumined mind; the gate of heaven opens, displaying the shining light of spiritual nature. The numinous child returns into the ocean treasury and rests alone in the crystal palace.

Those who awaken to the Dao naturally come to understand.

What is called “self-attainment”: the verse uses “white snow” and “red frost” to describe the Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) that coalesce in cultivation; the splitting of the earth and the appearance of heavenly light symbolize the brightening of mind and nature and the manifestation of spiritual nature; “the numinous child returns to the ocean treasury and lies alone in the crystal hall” tells how the inner spiritual nature withdraws into deep concealment and abides in a realm of clarity and stillness.

Those who awaken to the Dao naturally come to understand.

What is called “self-attainment” means that one does not cultivate by deliberate effort, yet cultivation arises of itself; one does not force action, yet by according with the Great Dao one brings something to completion. One who awakens to the Dao can discern, in what lies before the eyes, the subtle and hidden mystery, open within the heart the exquisite principle, and penetrate and manifest the realm of True Emptiness. The verse says: gathering in the mind and turning the gaze, one naturally sees the Dharma-body (the true body recognized by the cultivator). One sets the heavenly mechanism in motion, and it mirrors the sun and moon; one inquires of the Great Dao, and light shines upon heaven and earth. The bright radiance is as brilliant as a dragon pearl, and the flashing luster is as deep a red as amber. The Jade Infant (symbolizing the inner spiritual nature gained through cultivation) sleeps in the precious hall, clear and pure, far from the dust of the world.

One who has truly awakened to the Great Dao can open the eye of the Dao (the wisdom that discerns the Great Dao) and understand and penetrate the principle of Wuwei (non-action). The verse says: know the mysterious and subtle, and one can comprehend the Great Dao of old; gain insight, and one can understand True Constancy. Clear, refined Qi winds about the empty wilds, and dense, generative Qi fills the vast heaven and earth. The light of the solar soul is crystalline as white snow; the radiance of the lunar soul shines with a clarity like silver frost. Sending forth the brilliant light of Shen (spirit), one returns, full, clear, and luminous, to the homeland of the source.

Constant clarity and stillness enable one to reach this realm.

Heaven is clear, and the celestial signs appear; earth is quiet, and the myriad things are at peace. If a person can maintain clarity and stillness, spirit accords with the Great Dao; one holds to the One and dwells in the ever-constant Dao. The verse says: when the mind is serene, the light of Shen appears, and one returns, full, clear, and luminous, to the homeland of the source.

Constant clarity and stillness enable one to reach this realm.

Heaven is clear, and the celestial signs appear; earth is quiet, and the myriad things are at peace. If a person can maintain clarity and stillness, spirit accords with the Great Dao; one holds to the One and dwells in the ever-constant Dao. The verse says: when the mind is quiet, one feels the heart clear and bright; facing the wind and the moon, what lies before the eyes is luminous. The whole sky seems to let fall dew like pearls, and the earth lies level as quicksilver. The jade door (symbolizing the inner gateway of cultivation) shines and reveals gold; the golden gate opens, and the Jade Infant appears. One strikes open the handle of the Dipper in heaven and ascends straight to the star of the sun.

The immortal Ge Xuan (a legendary immortal in the Daoist tradition) said: “I have obtained the true Dao (the Way), and I once recited this Jing (scripture) ten thousand times. This Jing is cultivated by beings of the celestial realms and by those who possess the Dao; it is not transmitted to people of shallow capacity. I formerly received it from the Sovereign Lord of Eastern Florescence; the Sovereign Lord of Eastern Florescence received it from the Sovereign Lord of the Golden Portal; and the Sovereign Lord of the Golden Portal in turn received it from the Queen Mother of the West. From the Queen Mother of the West onward, it was transmitted orally from generation to generation and never set down in writing. Only now have I transcribed it in the human world. Those of superior capacity who comprehend this Jing may ascend to become celestial officials; those of middling capacity who comprehend it may take their place in the immortal ranks of the Southern Palace; and those of lesser capacity who obtain this Jing may still enjoy long life in the human world, come and go among the Three Realms (the realms of heaven, earth, and humanity), and ascend into the Golden Gate.”

The Perfected of the Left Mystery said: “Those who cultivate the Dao and recite this Jing will receive the protection of the beneficent spirits of the celestial realms in the ten directions. Thereafter, jade talismans guard the Shen (spirit), and the golden liquor refines and nourishes the bodily form, so that both form and Shen attain a wondrous state and unite with the Dao as one true reality.”

The Perfected of Zhengyi (Orthodox Unity) said: “If a household possesses this Jing and can comprehend the principles within it, calamity will not intrude, and the host of holy perfected beings will guard the gates. The practitioner’s spirit-consciousness ascends to the upper realm to pay homage to the venerable deities; when merit is fulfilled, one can commune with the Sovereign Lords. If one persists in recitation without slackening, the body may ride upon purple clouds and ascend.”