《洞玄灵宝定观经注(冷虚子)》

Ling means the numinous and wondrous: in Heaven it is called “ling.” Bao means the precious: on Earth it is called “bao.” Heaven has numinous, wondrous transformations whose workings are hard to fathom, covering the myriad things in vast and boundless expanse; Earth holds treasures of every kind, nourishing the myriad beings and solidly bearing up the myriad things. This scripture (Jing) is like Heaven and Earth. It can cover and bear the myriad things, uniting the numinous with the precious, its merit without end. Practitioners realize the state of mind of which it speaks, and so it is called the Lingbao.

“Ding” means that the mind and Shen (spirit) are settled, unshaken like the earth; “guan” means illumination by wisdom, constantly bright like the sky. The substance of concentration gives rise to no stray thoughts, and the illumination of wisdom has no limit. Concentration and wisdom are cultivated together, and so it is called “dingguan.”

The Celestial Worthy told Zuoxuan Zhenren (zhenren is an honorific title in Daoism):

“Zuo” means settled stability; “xuan” means profound and subtle; “zhen” means pure and unmixed; “ren” means a person who fully understands affairs, principle, and inherent nature. “Yue” is a word used to introduce speech.

One who wishes to cultivate the Dao (the Way) must first be able to set aside ordinary affairs. When the mind is not stained by external things, this is called “sheshi.”

One must cut off the pull of external things. The “six dusts” are form, sound, scent, taste, touch, and mental objects—that is, what the senses and the mind contact and cognize. When one no longer clings to these, it is called “external affairs are entirely cut off.”

External conditions do not come to disturb the mind within, and the mind within does not give rise to affliction because of external conditions. When the inner mind is free of staining attachment, external conditions do not become a disturbance. When mind and conditions no longer entangle one another, there is no affliction; this is called “nothing that runs counter to the mind.”

One then sits calmly and upright: gathering in the mind and spirit and quieting affliction is called “an”; the original mind not raising delusive thoughts is called “zuo.”

One then looks inward to observe the arising of thoughts. As soon as one becomes aware that a thought has arisen, one must extinguish it, so that the mind is sure to be settled, calm, and pure.

To contemplate inwardly with a mind of wisdom is called “inward contemplation” (neiguan). When stray thoughts have not yet been removed, this is called “the arising of mind” (xinqi): a preceding thought suddenly arises, and one then becomes aware of it. After the thought arises and then disappears, and even the mind that perceives it no longer clings, this is called “elimination” (chumie). When thoughts no longer arise, this is called “settled” (an); when the nature of awareness is undisturbed, this is called “still” (jing). This is “settled stillness” (anjing).

Going a step further, even when there is no definite craving or clinging, the fleeting and disordered thoughts must also all be removed. After a thought arises and then disappears, and the mind of awareness no longer clings, this is called “elimination.” When thoughts no longer arise, this is called “settled”; when the nature of awareness is undisturbed, this is called “still.” This is “settled stillness.”

Going a step further, even when there is no definite craving or clinging, the fleeting and disordered thoughts must also all be removed.

When no delusive thoughts arise, stray thoughts have all vanished, and confused ideas no longer appear, how could craving and clinging still remain? Therefore it is said that they must be thoroughly removed.

One cultivates diligently by day and by night, without interruption for even a moment.

Here “day” refers to purity, and “night” refers to defilement. Clinging to neither purity nor defilement, and with cultivation uninterrupted, this is called “buti” (without interruption).

One only eliminates the restless mind.

Forgetting delusive thoughts and discriminations is called the “agitated mind” (dongxin). Removing it through awareness and contemplation is therefore called “extinction” (mie).

One does not extinguish the mind of contemplative illumination.

The illumination of wisdom remains ever clear and bright, never interrupted; this is called “not extinguishing the illuminating mind” (bumie zhaoxin).

One need only let the mind settle, composed, in empty stillness.

Not giving rise to any thought is called the “empty mind” (kongxin).

Yet one must not harden the mind and fix it in any particular place.

Not clinging to anything at all is called “not congealing and fixing the mind” (bu ningzhu xin).

The illumination of wisdom remains ever clear and bright, never interrupted; this is called “not extinguishing the illuminating mind.”

One need only let the mind settle, composed, in empty stillness.

Not giving rise to any thought is called the “empty mind.”

Yet one must not harden the mind and fix it in any particular place.

Not clinging to anything at all is called “not congealing and fixing the mind.”

The mind does not attach itself to any dharma—any object that cultivation contemplates or relies upon—and yet it constantly abides.

If one seizes upon a particular dharma, this is called “clinging to appearances” (zhuoxiang), that is, clinging to the outward marks of things. When the mind seizes upon no dharma, this is called “non-reliance” (buyi). Contemplating while constantly dwelling in stillness is therefore called “constant abiding” (changzhu).

Yet the mind of an ordinary person is always restless and contentious. For a beginner, bringing the mind to rest is extremely difficult: sometimes one wishes to quiet the mind but cannot, and even if it becomes calm for a time, that calm is soon lost again.

This means that habitual afflictions are hard to remove. The power of meditative concentration has not yet taken form, and so, even if one becomes settled for a time, distraction arises once more.

Within the mind, the thoughts of what to discard and what to retain contend with each other, and every part of the body is in motion as well.

Once the mind is stained by external circumstances, those circumstances in turn draw the inner mind along. Mind and circumstance influence and disturb one another; this is called “mutual conflict.” When deluded thoughts never cease, every kind of fault arises one after another; this is called “the hundred aspects running on.”

Only through long and concentrated reflection and practice can the mind gradually be regulated and made steady. Do not abandon the work of sustained cultivation merely because, for a moment, the mind’s thoughts cannot be gathered in. When the mind settles and no longer rises and falls with thoughts, it can accord with the constant and true Dao (the Way). If even a single thought cannot be gathered in, the cultivation accumulated over a long time may be laid waste because of it.

When one has only just gained a little clarity and stillness, correct wisdom—upright and lucid wisdom—has not yet arisen, and so this is said to be merely “slightly attaining stillness.” At this time, whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, that is, within the everyday “four deportments,” and whether one is in situations of handling affairs and responding to things or in places of clamor, one should deliberately settle the mind. Contact with all kinds of external scenes is called “places of engagement with affairs”; the swarming arising of all kinds of thoughts is called “places of clamor.” Bringing distraction to rest and returning to stillness is called “applying intention”; a state of mind that is tranquil, steady, and fitting is called “ease.”

Whether there are affairs or none, one should constantly maintain a condition of not being led along by thoughts. Whether in a quiet place or a noisy one, the mind’s resolve should be single. Let go of attachment to both sides, “being” and “non-being,” and do not cling to stillness or to activity. Realize that the myriad things have no fundamental distinctions; this is called “the one alone.”

If the gathering of thoughts is too urgent, faults will also arise: the breath falls out of harmony, and the spirit (Shen) may even become frantic and disordered. These are the signs that may appear. Clinging one-sidedly to stillness and taking the still state as something truly existent is called “binding the mind.” Clinging outside the mind to the appearances one sees leads to confusion and derangement.

If the mind is settled and unmoving, one must also know how to relax and let it operate of itself, so that openness and restraint are just right. Wisdom arising from the state of concentration is called “letting be”; the blending and balance of concentrative power and wisdom is called “finding the proper measure.” In cultivation one must continually adjust oneself: too much concentration easily brings dullness and torpor; wisdom in excess, without enough concentration, easily brings restlessness and disorder. Only when concentration and wisdom are used in balance is this called “due adjustment.”

Gather body and mind without clinging to the gathering; relax body and mind without being swayed by circumstances. Amid clamor there is no aversion, and in handling affairs and responding there is no vexation—only this is true concentration. Though this concentration is still and silent, it can constantly illuminate and observe.

The mind is inwardly still, yet it continually maintains illuminating awareness; though one is in the midst of awareness, one remains peacefully still throughout. The mind is empty and silent, yet able to function in response to conditions; though it can so function, within it remains empty and silent. To realize the stillness of the original source—this is true ding (inner stability, undisturbed by external conditions).

Do not, merely because you meet with no vexation when handling affairs, deliberately go looking for still more affairs; nor, merely because you feel no aversion while situated amid clamor, force yourself to remain in the midst of noise.

Habits and the labors of the dusty world stir the mind. They need to be restrained often; one must not allow oneself to grow indulgent and slack.

The state of mind when nothing is being done is the true dwelling (zhenzhai, “true abode”). Seeing that original nature is inherently empty and still, one therefore calls it the “true abode.”

Doing something is the trace that appears in response to external conditions (yingji, “responsive traces”). The functioning of wisdom has no limit, and so it is called “responsive traces.”

It is like water and a mirror, which can reflect things and, as those things arrive, display their forms.

The original mind is pure and clear, comparable to water and a mirror, reflecting the myriad things without obstruction. The myriad phenomena appear all together—this is called “manifesting form” (xianxing).

Only when one is skilled at flexibly employing expedient methods (fangbian famen) can one enter the state of ding. The various functions of wisdom have no limit, and so they are called “responsive traces.”

The nature of all things is empty, utterly still and unmoving, and does not arise out of nothing; therefore this is called “entering ding.”

When wisdom manifests, and whether it manifests quickly or slowly, is not something human effort can determine. Do not, while in ding, hastily pursue wisdom. Excessive haste injures original nature, and once nature is injured, wisdom cannot arise.

If one hastily pursues views and cognition, true ding disappears. If one greedily clings to all manner of forms, one cannot be said to possess wisdom.

If, upon entering ding, one does not deliberately seek wisdom, and yet wisdom arises of itself—this alone is called true wisdom.

The substance of the mind is still, yet its wondrous function is inexhaustible—this is true ding.

One has wisdom yet does not deliberately display it; the person who truly possesses wisdom instead appears dull. “Not using” means making no discriminations in the mind. One gathers in one’s radiance and does not reveal one’s traces, and so is said to be “like a fool.”

Let ding and wisdom (hui) enhance one another, so that both are possessed and wondrous function is without end. Stillness and illuminating awareness fuse into one, and so it is said that the two are excellent together and without limit.

If, while entering ding, thoughts and imaginings continually arise in the mind, one easily attracts all kinds of deviant and uncanny things; sprites, demons, and ghosts appear in accordance with those thoughts. This is because the mind actively grasps at forms, and only then do various forms arise in response to thought. What is here called “deviant demons” (xiemo) refers to the various anomalous appearances that arise in practice through attachment to mental notions.

Let ding and wisdom enhance one another, so that both are possessed and wondrous function is without end. Stillness and illuminating awareness fuse into one, and so it is said that the two are excellent together and without limit.

If, while entering ding, thoughts and imaginings continually arise in the mind, one easily attracts all kinds of deviant and uncanny things; sprites, demons, and ghosts appear in accordance with those thoughts.

When one is cultivating meditative concentration, if the mind deliberately pursues some particular state and clings to the images it sees, all manner of illusory appearances will arise, and demons and deviant forces will seize the chance to come and cause disturbance.

If one sees Celestial Worthies (Tianzun), the various immortals, or Perfected Persons (Zhenren), these are only auspicious signs. They still belong among the various visionary appearances, and one should not cling to them.

One should let the mind within concentration open suddenly into clarity: above, nothing covers it; below, it is vast and empty, with nothing to rely on and no foundation. When the previous thought does not arise, this is called “without covering”; when the following thought does not arise, this is called “without a base.”

Karma accumulated in the past gradually disappears, and one no longer creates new karma. When the habitual tendencies of former days are entirely exhausted, this is called “old karma daily dissolves”; when one no longer raises the mind to contrive, this is called “new karma is not created.”

When the mind is stained by nothing at all, this is called “without clinging or obstruction”; when one casts off every binding and leaves far behind the cage of the dusty world, this is called “utterly freed from the cage of dust.”

Continuing to practice in this way, one naturally attains the Dao (the Way). When the illuminating contemplation of wisdom never ceases, this is called “practice carried on over time”; to accord with principle and unite with true nature is to attain the Dao.

Those who have attained the Dao commonly show seven kinds of confirming signs.

The first is that the mind easily enters concentration and can perceive the various worldly toils and afflictions. When the ground of the mind is clear and pure, one can see clearly the stray thoughts of dust and custom; this is therefore called “perceiving the various defilements of dust.”

The second is that illnesses long accumulated generally recede, and body and mind become light and at ease. The scripture (Jing) uses “true Qi (vital energy) and embryonic breathing” to explain the state gained through cultivation, and says that deep-rooted, chronic maladies are thereby cured. When body and mind accord with the Dao, one feels the body light and vigorous, not readily growing old.

The third is replenishing what was innately depleted and restoring one’s years and the root of life. The scripture says that when the marrow is full, depletion can be replenished, and that when the countenance long remains unfaded, this is called “returning the years and restoring life.”

The fourth is that one’s lifespan is extended to ten thousand years, and one is therefore called an immortal. The scripture explains “immortal” as long life without death and having one’s name entered in the registers of the immortals.

The fifth is refining the form and transforming it into Qi, which is called a Perfected Person. Obtaining the Qi of the original source is called “refining form into Qi”; when one’s nature is upright, true, and not false, one is called a “Perfected Person.”

The sixth is refining Qi and transforming it into Shen (spirit), so that one becomes an immortal.

To live on without dying, with one’s lifespan lengthened by tens of thousands of years and one’s name entered in the register of immortals—this is why such a person is called an immortal.

The fifth kind refines and transforms the bodily form, causing the form to turn into Qi (vital energy); this is called a True Person (zhenren).

One comprehends and obtains the primordial Qi, and so it is said that one “refines form into Qi.” One’s nature is upright and genuine, without any falsity, and so one is called a True Person.

The sixth kind refines and transforms Qi, causing Qi to turn into Shen (spirit); this is called a Spirit Person (shenren).

True Qi communicates with spirit, and the transformations of Yin-Yang are profound beyond fathoming; this is why one is called a Spirit Person.

The seventh kind refines and transforms Shen, causing spirit to unite with the Dao (the Way); this is called an Utmost Person (zhiren).

True spirit accords with the Dao, and so one is called an Utmost Person.

As for the capacity to see clearly into the principles of things, it grows ever more lucid as one’s level of cultivation rises.

“The power of discernment” is contemplation sustained without interruption; “ever greater clarity” is a continual further advance within that lucidity.

Once one has reached the supreme Dao and cultivation is complete, wisdom becomes full and perfect.

If one realizes one’s inherent nature, attains the Dao, and becomes truly realized, wisdom is then perfectly luminous and free of obstruction, and all phenomena are thoroughly penetrated and fully present.

If one merely practices calming the mind for a long time, yet no verifying signs of cultivation ever appear, then even when a brief lifespan and the turbid body grow old and perish, one still cannot on that account claim to be awakened or declare that one has attained the Dao. Such a person has not truly reached the realm of seeking the Dao.

Only when one penetrates spiritual illumination and unites with the Dao has one truly attained the Dao and completed cultivation. If the mind within remains deluded and the body in the end dies, one has not yet escaped birth and death. The Scripture of Western Ascension says: “Having already lost the root of life, how can one know the source of the Great Dao?”

The verse says:

Wisdom arises from external conditions, and the fire of affliction in the heart arises through circumstances.

All of these are seeds inherent in one’s original nature; if one merely drifts with the current, one loses the root of the Great Dao.

When a thought arises that seeks to still knowing, knowing instead grows more turbulent because that thought has arisen.

If one can understand that the nature of knowing is originally empty, then knowing becomes the gateway to every wondrous principle.

Here ends the Commentary on the Dongxuan Lingbao Scripture of Concentrated Contemplation.

The root of cultivating the Dao (the Way) lies in realizing it with the mind; there is no need to seek anything further outside oneself. Conscious Shen (spirit) depends on the body for its existence, and there is nothing that leaves the body and stands independently apart. My luminous original nature has been present from ancient times to the present; only when it is pulled by emotions such as joy, anger, sorrow, and delight is upright intention impaired. Craving, anger, dull ignorance, and every kind of delusion born of distorted understanding lead people away from the true and toward the false, as if without end.

The True Master, pitying the ignorance of living beings, therefore set forth this subtle Jing (scripture), making it a standard and a model for both the human world and the celestial realms, and a ladder and a ferry toward realization. The scripture teaches “dingguan” (the method of practice that settles mind and spirit and contemplates what is within), unfolding the subtle fundamental principles, seeing into the profound and mysterious, washing away vexations that cling like dust, and passing beyond the reach of sight and hearing. After what has form becomes visible, one understands the principle of “wuxiang” (the absence of any fixed form); before things have yet appeared, one brings the mind to a state of extreme emptiness and stillness. At this point both things and the self may be forgotten, and body and spirit alike attain a subtle harmony. All who cultivate the Dao should regard this scripture with reverence.

On an auspicious day at the beginning of the third month of the ren-shen year, Lingxuzi (the signatory here) respectfully kowtowed and carefully recorded this.

Supplementary note: Some words and phrases in the commentary edition differ from the version preserved in the Yunji Qiqian (Seven Slips from a Cloudy Satchel). The signature and colophon give the name Lingxuzi, while the title of the annotated scripture gives Lengxuzi. The commentary recorded in the Yunji Qiqian stops at the main text and does not include the later colophon by Lingxuzi.