《太上赤文洞古经注(长筌子)》

The supreme Dao (the Way) cannot be put into words, and true emptiness is not a visible form or color. Neither thought nor observation can grasp it; to seek to investigate it yields nothing, and to try to reach it by action is likewise impossible. It nurtures Heaven and Earth and accords with natural change. Silent and unmoving, it yet responds to all things between Heaven and Earth, giving the myriad things rest and restoring living beings to the root of their nature and life. Vast and exalted—who but the sage can fully comprehend it?

The Great Sage of Primordial Beginning, filled with boundless compassion, lets his wisdom shine upon the ten directions. He sees that living beings have forgotten to return to the source, wandering through the world and cycling through rebirth without end, long enduring suffering yet unable to awaken of themselves. So he sends down a rain of sacred teaching and proclaims the mysterious Dao, guiding beings out of the bitter sea of birth and death into a realm of pure emptiness and quiet simplicity. He enables them to rise above worldly defilement, to move through a vast and boundless realm, free and at ease, transforming alone, penetrating the subtle and profound principle, according with Wuwei (non-action) and spontaneity, returning to plain simplicity, and merging into the deep, vast, undifferentiated source.

Practicing the True, Upper Section

All activity that appears arises from a root that is originally still and unmoving.

What is called “having movement” is action that arises in response to the changes of things; what is called “having no movement” is abiding in the undifferentiated source.

“Having no movement” means guarding the primordial Qi (vital energy), holding to unity without scattering, returning to the root, and recovering one’s nature. Thus the Jing (scripture/classic) says: “The clear is the source of the turbid; stillness is the foundation of movement.” One must concentrate with single-minded devotion and rightly hold to the middle way. The myriad things grow in profusion, yet each in the end returns to its root. Returning to the root is called “stillness,” and when stillness reaches its utmost, there is non-movement.

All deliberate action arises from Wuwei. When Wuwei is attained, the spirit returns to its original truth.

The spirit is originally pure, still, and at peace; when stirred by resonance, it can penetrate things. It acts only when there is no alternative, according with the moment and responding to the myriad things, and thus its wondrous functioning is inexhaustible. Set aside the deliberate use of cleverness and the mind of benevolence, and one can follow the natural principle. When the mind is plain and returns to the Infinite, every mystery gathers and comes.

When Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) return to tranquil stillness, the myriad things likewise fall silent, like clouds dispersing.

By single-mindedly nurturing the breath and bringing body and mind to a state of softness, one can become like an infant. Holding to emptiness, stillness, and harmonious balance, true Qi grows full and circulates freely, and the myriad things are thereby able to grow and be nourished. The humane person acts according to the principles by which the Dao (the Way) of Heaven operates; remaining plain and yet inexhaustible, every subtlety gathers here.

When Shen and Qi return to tranquil stillness, the myriad things likewise fall silent, like clouds dispersing.

By single-mindedly nurturing the breath and bringing body and mind to a state of softness, one can become like an infant. Holding to emptiness, stillness, and harmonious balance, true Qi grows full and circulates freely, and the myriad things are thereby able to grow and be nourished. Knowing how to maintain harmony is the constant Dao; using the mind to force and command the breath is a display of strength. Those who force their strength pass through vigor and decline, and in the end move toward death.

When body and mind cease to stir, the breath disperses; when the breath disperses, the myriad things lose their vitality.

When the breath is cut off and spiritual consciousness departs, a person’s nine orifices and hundred bones ultimately turn to dust. What remains to be doubted?

Shen abides with Shen, and the myriad things depend upon one another; their foundations all lie within their own sources.

Nourish emptiness and stillness by means of emptiness and stillness, and nourish fullness by means of fullness. Why is this said? Forget the body in order to nurture Qi; forget Qi in order to nurture Shen; forget Shen in order to return to emptiness and stillness. When the mind is empty, still, and clear, good fortune comes to rest within it; when Shen and Qi are peaceful and at ease, the root of life grows deep and firm. This is the Way of changsheng jiushi (the method of enduring existence and of preserving vitality).

In silent realization, I naturally come to understand.

The supreme Dao (the highest Way) is profound and subtle, and can be attained without relying on external things. Quiet and dim, neither responding nor inquiring, the light of numinous clarity can stand firm on its own. This is the Way of changsheng jiushi.

In silent realization, I naturally come to understand.

The supreme Dao is profound and subtle, and can be attained without relying on external things. Quiet and dim, neither responding nor inquiring, the light of numinous clarity shines alone, far removed from genchen (the senses and external objects). The true and constant essence is revealed, unmoved by the myriad things, and thus one can preserve life and return to the source.

Enter the realm of wujian.

“Wujian” is the realm of non-being and formlessness. This is a teaching not transmitted by words, and also the benefit that comes from according with what is natural. The Dao is fully rounded and freely penetrating, without obstruction; it can transform without end, extend throughout the ten directions, and operate at every moment, never interrupted.

Neither dying nor being born.

The Mysterious Pearl (symbolizing the essence of the Dao) is radiant and brilliant, ever luminous from past to present, never extinguished. The myriad things arise in undifferentiated wholeness, and all things are equal in fundamental principle. It belongs neither to stillness nor is it stained by dust; it has no beginning and no end, and is therefore called “neither dying nor being born.”

Become one with Heaven and Earth.

The Dao (the Way) of Heaven is clear and empty, and therefore can endure for long; the Dao of Earth is peaceful and deeply still, and therefore can last. If a person can grasp the principle in this, penetrate the mysterious Dao, reach the utmost emptiness and stillness, firmly guard purity and quiet, keep the inner heart tranquil and silent, and remain unentangled by the myriad things, then one can be pure and clear in Wuwei (non-action) and become one with Heaven and Earth.

Within the Chapter on Entering Sagehood

Forget the gaze fixed upon external things, and spiritual light will fill the boundless realm.

The five colors disturb sight and make one unable to see clearly. The “form” spoken of here is the image that appears; yet the various images of the myriad things are not in fact always displayed, unchanged. Why is this so? The dharma-eye of one who cultivates the Dao (the eye of wisdom that contemplates the inherent nature of all things) is perfectly integrated and penetrating, shedding light on the ten directions and the three realms (the vast worlds spoken of in Daoism). In looking at the myriad things, one does not cling to the myriad things; in looking at emptiness, one does not cling to emptiness. What is seen is hidden, deep, and hard to discern. Within that depth, one alone can behold a clear and luminous scene. The light of numinous clarity fills the four directions without end.

Eliminate attachment to sound, and the mind’s awareness becomes as still as a deep abyss.

The five tones disturb hearing and make one unable to hear clearly. The mind is like a clear, deep pool, originally limpid and tranquil. Words of right and wrong, and sounds of beauty and ugliness, all belong to delusive feelings and human artifice. Turmoil like violent wind and driving rain stirs the source of the mind and causes the mind and Shen (spirit) to lose their peace. If one can still the discriminations of right and wrong and not let them enter the mind, one can, in the midst of soundlessness, alone hear harmony. Only then can one hear the mysterious song “Baixue” (“White Snow”), and without playing music still realize “Yangchun” (“Sunny Spring”)—here the names of pieces of immortal music are borrowed to describe wondrous tones that transcend ordinary sound.

When one at the same time forgets both sound and form, and also forgets movement and stillness, one can cut off the gateways leading to the many wondrous realms.

In listening, one does not rely on the Qi (vital energy) of the ears; in seeing, one does not depend on the discriminating activity of mind and spirit. This is the wondrous realm of the Great Mystery and the state of vast, empty numinous clarity. Entering deeper and still deeper, one comes into accord with the myriad things; growing ever more spirit-marvelous, one reaches the subtle and fine. Within Wuwei there is naturally action; without deliberately seeking to know, one nonetheless understands. Numinous clarity is transparent, vast and emptily still, and the wondrous realm has no limit.

Being pure and whole, one accords with the entirety of the great Dao.

Forget both things and the self, and no longer cling to being or non-being; abide in a state of dim non-discrimination, still and profoundly deep. This realm has no boundary, nor does it lie among external things; it is vast and emptily silent, wondrous and beyond fathoming.

Forget the distinction between things and the self, and do not cling to being or non-being. It rests in undifferentiated stillness, deep and hard to fathom, without limit, and it is neither outside nor inside. Its movement has no fixed starting point, and its manifestation has no set direction. It transforms, brings forth, and nurtures the myriad things, yet it cannot be described by any concrete image. It is a seamless whole, without corner or boundary.

It is remote and undifferentiated, unlike every distinction and ordered rank in the world.

The supreme Dao (the Way) holds mystery upon mystery. Vast and boundless, it cannot be compared with anything. When concealed, it is “Yuanjing,” Primal Jing (essence)—the subtle Qi (vital energy) of the origin. When put to use, it becomes myriad wondrous functions. When held within, it is “Taiyi” (the Great Unity), the undifferentiated primordial source. When it issues forth, it is “Taiqing” (Supreme Clarity), the lofty realm of pure brightness. It has neither form nor name, yet it is supreme and most honored. Those who lose it are ordinary people; those who realize it are sages.

Though Heaven and Earth are vast, they all lie within my encompassing grasp.

The sages of past and present, and the Zhenren (Perfected Ones) who have attained the Dao, can raise Heaven and Earth, master Yin-Yang, shape the myriad things, and bestow grace upon living beings. Is this really so difficult?

The multitude of things is likewise kept and guarded by me.

The cosmos seems to rest in the palm of the hand, and every transformation seems to arise from within a single body.

How could the Dao ever come to an end? And how could words ever make its limits clear?

The sage speaks directly of the mysterious Dao and lets its light appear everywhere, fearing only that ordinary people of later ages will refuse to believe and will instead fall into doubt. The sage therefore deliberately speaks with humility, as if the principle had not been fully stated, so as to avoid the limits that words impose, and also from distaste for statements that are mistaken and untrue.

Dwelling in the World, Lower Section

Nourish the Dao that has neither form nor image, and its wondrous image can abide constantly.

When True Qi—the original Qi spoken of in cultivation—circulates in a gentle, moistening flow, it is as if the four seasons no longer brought cold and heat. When the current of pure Yang pours forth without cease, it is as if living beings no longer passed through birth and death. Thus it is said that the bright lamp within the heart shines constantly, and the Dharma-body, the pure body attained by the practitioner, endures. If the candle of wisdom does not shine, how can the form of the Dao appear?

Keep to the Dao that has neither form nor body, and the body can preserve what is genuine in it.

The Qi of Heaven and Earth conjoin, sweet dew descends, and the myriad things are nourished. If a person can be quiet and at peace, so that body and mind are well attuned, it is like a precious vessel made firm, jade liquor grown sweet, and true water descending to nourish the subtle body, restoring youth to the aged. Is this not excellent?

When body and mind preserve true nature and harmoniously nourish one another, one may endure for a long time.

Water and fire join in the mutual completion of Jiji, the hun and po souls guard one another, and lead and mercury (symbolic terms in alchemy) congeal together. Refined into the “Great Medicine,” they form the Golden Elixir (Jindan). The Golden Elixir shines with brilliant radiance, lighting every dark and hidden place; pure and spotlessly white, it returns to plain simplicity. One who reaches the state of Wuwei (non-action) and a return to simplicity can live on without perishing and meet no peril to the end of life. Such a person is called a Zhenren (True Person).

Heaven preserves the true Dao (the Way), and therefore it endures. Heaven has received the pure, unmixed Dao, and so it can cover the myriad things and embrace every phenomenon. Through long ages it remains clear and settled, illuminating and discerning all things without partiality. It does not speak, yet it responds; its wondrous working is inexhaustible. Vast, lofty, and far-reaching, it contains all, lasting and unchanging.

Earth preserves the true Dao, and therefore it endures. Because Earth has received the true Dao, it can nourish the myriad things and make their roots firm. Quiet in Wuwei, it is able to last.

A person who preserves the true Dao therefore enjoys long life. Though the bodily form may die, the transmission of Shen (spirit) and the Dao does not perish—only this is called longevity. If people of the world can grasp the true purport of the Dao, obtain its subtle original source, and unite in truth with the Dao, they will be free from peril all their lives. Like the sages and worthies, they will receive unceasing offerings from later generations—what could be better than this? Only when the foundation is deep and secure, and one is quiet in Wuwei, can one endure.

People of the world cannot endure because they have lost the formless Dao and let slip the truth that has no body. The five flavors disturb the sense of taste, the five odors taint the nose, and sounds and sights block the ears and eyes. Every kind of choosing and rejecting disturbs the mind and Shen, setting innate nature adrift. People lose themselves in passion and desire, chase external things, and thoughts cling together one after another, so that the mind races outward and malign spirits enter through the opening. Right and wrong, favor and humiliation, throw the inner spiritual source into disorder. Contending with external things, people wear themselves away, toiling and rushing all their lives. Caught in the petty net of karma, they do not know how to return to original truth—is this not grievous?

People crave an easy and abundant life and pursue embroidered clothing and fine food and drink, yet their minds are deluded by false views and fall into inverted delusions, so that even in old age they do not understand Heaven’s mandate. They exhaust themselves on external things and lose their innate nature amid worldly habits. These are people who invert root and branch—is this not to be lamented?

People cannot make the bones of the whole body and the nine orifices (the openings of the body, such as the ears, eyes, mouth, and nose) endure together with the truly original form of life, and so in the end they still die.

Human nature is originally clear, still, and luminous—empty and numinous, pure and unstained, radiant in its brilliance. Yet people become stained by all manner of desires and attachments, and cannot turn inward to contemplate and examine the original mind. Their nature thus gradually scatters and is lost. Long mired in confusion, they find it hard to recognize their true body, and instead lodge themselves in other forms, forgetting the root of life and thereby injuring their inner nature.

In this way they transmigrate through long kalpas, sinking into the sea of birth and death, unable to transcend it—truly something to be lamented.