《无上赤文洞古真经注(李道纯)》

The two characters wushang (“unsurpassed”) already sum up the central purport of the entire scripture (Jing). The first chapter speaks of “unmoving Wuwei (non-action)”; the second chapter speaks of “dimming the eyes and forgetting the ears” (stilling the eyes and forgetting what the ears hear); and later passages speak of “being without image and without form.” All of these express this same principle.

One must not, however, take wushang to mean that there is a “nothing” one can grasp, nor that everything is reduced to empty void. True “nothingness” is such that, within nothingness, real existence still remains. Those who study the Dao (the Way) must recognize this “true nothingness”: bodily form and outward appearance are illusory dust and dross, while colors and sounds are objects from the external world that enter the senses. If one does not cling outwardly to color and sound, and does not cling inwardly to bodily form and appearance, and if attachment is released both within and without, the True One (the original unified state of authenticity) constantly manifests. This is precisely to realize true nothingness within what is not absolute emptiness.

The Taishang (the Daoist title of honor for Laozi) says, “In emptying, there is nothing to be emptied.” Since the object one would empty no longer exists, one need not cling even to the notion of “empty nothingness”; and once even “the nothingness of nothingness” has been let go, there is a state of lucid clarity, quiet stillness, and constant unmoving. The Xici of the Yizhuan says, “The Changes are without deliberation and without action; silent and unmoving, once they receive a stimulus they penetrate all affairs.” Chuan Lao also says, “Whatever has form and image, and whatever is pursued, is delusion; yet if one clings to the formless and the imageless, one falls into a one-sided attachment to withered stillness. The magnificent true substance—why need one inquire after it? A single clear, cold radiance illuminates the vast expanse of space.”

Seen in this light, the early teachers of the Three Teachings (those revered as masters in the Confucian, Buddhist, and Daoist traditions) all draw on “true nothingness” to inspire later students, so that they may respond to things while remaining unmoved and act within Wuwei. Forgetting bodily form inwardly and forgetting sound and color outwardly, nurturing the imageless, maintaining the formless, preserving original authenticity, and passing beyond the realm of empty nothingness—this is called the supreme vehicle (the highest method of cultivation). Since it is already the highest, there is no higher place to which one might ascend; hence it is called wushang, “unsurpassed.”

“Chiwen” (“Crimson Script”): chi refers to the empty Qi (vital energy) of void nothingness (the primordial vital energy that is still, void, and formless); wen refers to luminous manifestation that shines upon all things.

In “Chiwen” (赤文), chi refers to the empty Qi (vital energy) of void non-being—the primordial energy that is still, empty, and without form—while wen refers to brightness becoming manifest and shining upon all things. Buddhism sometimes uses expressions such as “bare body,” “bare hands,” and “bare ground” as metaphors for emptiness and nonexistence. The Shuogua says that “Qian is red,” and Qian symbolizes Heaven, which also carries the sense of emptiness. Thus Chiwen is the brightness manifested by empty Qi. What the Duren Jing (scripture/classic) says in the lines “the five texts open and expand” and “there is no text that does not save” likewise concerns brightness becoming manifest and illuminating the open expanse. If a practitioner can hold to the root and return to the source, entering a realm without gaps or obstructions, empty Qi will shine forth, fill heaven and earth, and cast its light in all directions; this is why it is called Chiwen.

In “Donggu” (洞古), dong means to observe and to see through, and gu means the beginning. By observing how a thing begins, one can understand how it ends; this is what is meant by tracing matters back to their origin and returning to their conclusion. The Most High says, “Hold to the Dao (the Way) of antiquity in order to govern what exists in the present,” and the Yinfu Jing says, “Observe the Dao of Heaven and hold to the movements of Heaven—that is all.” Both speak of grasping the fundamental principle so as to understand and respond to the present. If a practitioner can draw in sight and hearing, so that the eyes do not race outward and the ears do not chase outward, but instead turn inward to observe and listen, boundless brightness will naturally appear in the mind, and consciousness will settle into a stillness so deep and far-reaching that it is hard to fathom. Contemplation of this kind is called “illumined understanding.” Only then can one apprehend subtle sounds, see through without obstruction, and recognize the original beginning of things; hence it is called Donggu.

In “Zhenjing” (真经), jing means a road—the great way along which everyone may travel. This scripture sets forth the wondrous principles of the highest vehicle, the mystery of the empty Qi of void non-being, and the method of unobstructed insight, pointing toward the secret of tracing back to the origin and returning to the end. It is the shortcut and essential path that transcends birth and death and leads beyond the world.

In reading this scripture, one should not seek only the surface meaning word by word and line by line, but should grasp the intent expressed beyond the words. If one can awaken in silence and realize it through one’s own direct experience, one may go straight to the true realm of void non-being and commune with the primordial Dao before the Primordial Beginning; this is why it is called the True Scripture.

The movement of things that have form arises from a root that is originally unmoving, and action that seeks to accomplish something arises from the realm of Wuwei (non-action). Zhang Zai said, “Movement without stillness, or stillness without movement, is the condition of the myriad things; stillness within movement and movement within stillness is a subtle and marvelous state.” Laozi said, “Through Wuwei, there is nothing that cannot be accomplished.” I believe that true movement lies within non-movement, and true action lies within Wuwei. When Shen (spirit)—the spiritual function that governs the myriad things—is gathered back to its source, the myriad things one after another return to stillness; when Qi (vital energy)—the breath that constitutes and impels the myriad things—disperses, the myriad things are no longer produced.

Laozi said, “The myriad things grow in profusion, and in the end each returns to its own root. To return to the root is called stillness.” The Buddhists say, “If the mind is extinguished, the various phenomena disappear along with it.” I believe that when the intent of Shen lies hidden in a realm beyond discrimination, the myriad things, though manifold, all return to non-movement; when the breath comes to rest in inner emptiness and stillness, the myriad things are silent and without arising. Shen resonates with Shen, and things assist things. The Xici (Appended Statements) of the Yizhuan says, “Ceaseless generation and regeneration is called the Dao (the Way).” I believe that Shen responding to Shen, and things responding to things, are both without end. Their roots all return to the source, and this is to be realized in silence.

The Xici of the Yizhuan says, “Silently bringing the myriad things to completion, one wins trust without words.” I believe that to nurture and preserve the True One (Zhenyi)—the inner root that is pure, unitary, and unmixed—at the root of the tree is called “the root,” and to nurture and preserve it at the tip of the tree is called “the tip.” One who can grasp this inwardly is able to trace the origin and comprehend the root. By cultivating and concealing the True One within oneself, one enters a state without interval. The Xici of the Yizhuan says, “The sage uses this to cleanse the mind and withdraws to store it in a place deep and hidden.” I believe that “to cultivate” is to conceal; by lodging oneself in a realm beyond discrimination, one can enter a domain without interval.

Neither dying nor being born, one becomes one with Heaven and Earth. The Xici of the Yizhuan says, “By tracing the beginning and the end of things, one comes to understand the principle of life and death.” The Heart Sutra says, “Neither arising nor ceasing.” I believe that life and death are like day and night, a constant transformation. Day and night each have their course, and life and death each have their own naturalness; one who can regard life and death in this way becomes one with Heaven and Earth.

This passage discusses caozhen, that is, grasping the Dao (the Way) as it truly and originally is. “Movement within non-movement” means that the mind and Shen (spirit), though they do not stir in vain, can still operate of themselves. “Action within Wuwei (non-action)” means that one does not act by deliberate design, yet things are accomplished in accord with principle. This is the root of caozhen. When Shen and Qi (vital energy) settle into stillness and nourish one another through mutual fusion, that is the function of caozhen. Returning to the root, growing of oneself, and at last becoming one with Heaven and Earth is the sagely practice of caozhen. The text therefore continues with the “Chapter on Entering Sagehood.”

The verse says: Shen arises of itself within non-movement, and the Dao proceeds of itself in the place of Wuwei. If one can realize the principle that there is action within such movement, one will understand that the primordial “One”—the root before the myriad things have yet differentiated—and the transformations of creative change all return to this Dao.

Forget outward seeing and hearing, and the gaze is no longer drawn by things, so that the illumination of spirit-brightness can reach without bound; let the ears not chase sounds from outside, and the mind’s awareness can lie deep and still as an abyss. Laozi says: “Without peering out through a window, one can still understand the Way of Heaven; without stepping beyond the gate, one can still know the world.” The meaning is this: when one does not chase outward, the light of Shen instead shines everywhere, and the inner mind can become deep and vast. When neither eye nor ear is stirred by external things, one can remain whole and pure, unite with the vast and boundless Dao, and enter a state of undifferentiated unity.

The Book of Songs says: “Do not deliberately seek to know, nor deliberately contrive; act in accordance with the norms of Heaven.” The ancients used hunhun lunlun to describe this state of seamless wholeness. The Scripture of Salvation (Duren jing) says: “At the beginning of chaos, vast without limit, dim and without light.” The commentator explains: when one sees without clinging and hears without pursuit, body and mind are pure and single, and one keeps the true in its wholeness; the body is quiet and the mind undifferentiated, and one can pass beyond past and present to a state beyond compare.

Vast as Heaven and Earth are, they all lie within my encompassing hold; numerous as the myriad things are, they too are grasped by me. The Xici commentary on the Book of Changes says that Heaven and Earth are the greatest models the myriad things emulate; Mencius says that the principles of the myriad things are all complete within me. The commentator holds that Heaven moves and Earth is still, yet I can encompass their principles, and that the many things, taken together, form a single whole. Understood in this way, how could principle ever be exhausted, and how could one say that it has an end? Earlier Confucians said that the principles of Heaven and Earth, of human beings, and of the myriad things cannot be exhausted; if one claimed they could, would that not set a limit on their scope? The commentator concludes that when the “One” runs through the myriad principles, those principles can of themselves be grasped.

This passage is a commentary on the “Chapter on Entering Sagehood.”

When one forgets the distinctions that sight and hearing produce, and is not hindered by form, color, and sound, one can merge as one with Heaven and Earth. If, in facing the myriad things, one is still obstructed at every turn, this shows that one has not yet deeply realized the principle of things. One who has truly realized it in depth can thread all things through a single fundamental principle. Only when the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and humanity are gathered under one principle can cultivation endure. What follows, therefore, is the “Chapter on Dwelling in the World.”

The verse says: To seek only that one hear nothing and see nothing is, in the end, still empty and false; to follow form, color, and sound is to fall into the dust of the ordinary world. Only by grasping the principle of both sides can one enter the realm of the sage; only when one’s practice is deep and one’s cultivation fully in place can one become a complete True Person (zhenren).

Nurturing that state which is without form and without image allows the true “image,” paradoxically, to endure; holding to the state which is without form and without body allows the true “body” to preserve its original authenticity. Laozi said, “The great image has no form,” and again, “Set the self outside the self, and the self is thereby preserved.” In my view, the image that is imageless is the real image, and so it is not destroyed even through successive kalpas; the body that is bodiless is the true fundamental substance, and so it can wholly maintain its original authenticity.

Wholeness and original authenticity must mutually supplement and benefit each other if one is to last. The earlier Confucians spoke of “pure oneness without falsity.” I take pure oneness to be wholeness, and the absence of falsity to be truth. When wholeness and truth mutually supplement and benefit each other, this is the Dao (the Way) of changsheng jiushi—the path of cultivation by which one lives long and sees clearly for a long time. Heaven keeps its original authenticity, and so it lasts long; Earth keeps its original authenticity, and so it endures. Laozi said, “The reason Heaven and Earth can last long is that they do not live for themselves.” I take “not living for themselves” to mean forgetting attachment to physical form, and thus being able to preserve original authenticity and last as long as Heaven and Earth.

Ordinary people cannot last long because they have lost the imageless state and let slip the bodiless root. The Diamond Sutra says, “All conditioned phenomena are like a dream, an illusion, a bubble, a shadow.” In my view, dream, illusion, bubble, and shadow, though they display an image, all disperse in the end. Clinging to concrete bodily form and image belongs entirely to empty illusion and transformation, and it ultimately decays. One therefore cannot make the hundred bones and nine apertures of the whole body—the bones of the body and its various openings—endure together with the true body, and the person dies.

Chan Master Kai said, “Once one falls into the distinction between being and non-being, one loses body and life.” In my view, ordinary people cannot last long because of craving and attachment. The moment the mind clings to external things, it is drawn along by desire for things and changes together with those things; unable to let the hundred bones and nine apertures endure together with the true body, one dies in the end.

Practitioners of xiuzhen (cultivation of the True) should nurture the original nature that is without form and without image, and hold fast to the fundamental reality that is free of all clinging; in this way they are able to endure. If one clings to things that have form, one loses the true nature that was originally one’s own, and life will in the end perish before its time. Whatever has form is ultimately destroyed; the formless original nature can long abide.

When the myriad things return to emptiness, original authenticity can be preserved intact; if emptiness in turn transforms and gives rise to the myriad things, original authenticity is lost. Those who abandon the former and hold to the latter are called zhiren (the Perfected—persons whose cultivation has reached a lofty realm). They can preserve the physical body and remain in the human world, yet a day will still come when that body is destroyed; if they can awaken to the principle of the formless, they may endure without perishing. The myriad things return to emptiness and thereby keep original authenticity intact; when emptiness gives rise to the myriad things, original authenticity is lost. The zhiren who abandon the former and hold to the latter may preserve the physical body and remain in the world, and may also attain changsheng jiushi (long life and enduring vision—to go on living for a very long time).

There is, however, a Dao (the Way) that transcends the dusty world and reaches non-birth. What is this Dao of transcending the dusty world and of non-birth? (The author utters “duo,” as if prompting the reader to grasp the essential point.) The illusory, transformed body, since it has form, will in the end be destroyed; the fashen (dharma-body—the true body that transcends physical form and is without marks) has no form or appearance, and therefore endures. Only when both what has form and what is without marks have been utterly emptied away is there the “ruru budong zun” (the Unmoving Honored One of Suchness—the realm of eternal changelessness and silent stillness).