《洞玄灵宝五感文》

The Text of the Five Sentiments is a writing used by Daoist priests in cultivating the methods of the “Six Zhai.” Its contents all come from the “Great Scriptures of the Three Caverns” (Sandong dajing, a collective designation for the important Daoist classics). It holds an honored position; its meaning is subtle, profound, and of great weight, and it must not be profaned or treated lightly. All who read it should first wash their hands and read it upon a clean cloth; when storing it, it must likewise be placed in a container and not treated with casual neglect. Those who slight it will surely suffer calamities sent down from Heaven.

The supreme Dao (the Way) is clear, still, empty, and silent; its codes are simple and unadorned. Being tranquil, quiet, and following what is natural—this is the root. Yet the manners of the world are ostentatious and false, and few people are able to cultivate in accordance with this. People vie in pursuit of lofty names and rich profits, indulge their desires, put their faith in monstrous and delusive teachings, attach themselves to evil spirits, and further pass off heterodox doctrines as the orthodox Dao. Gentleman and petty man alike follow this current; they remain long in darkness and confusion, yet never distinguish or awaken. As a result, above it endangers the state, and below it brings suffering upon the common people; even when they themselves perish and the nation is ruined, people still do not take it as a warning. Still more grievous, these practices disturb the pure and upright Qi (vital energy), defile the pure and true principles, destroy and insult the Great Dao—truly a cause for deep sorrow.

I was born into the latter age, when the guiding principles of the teaching have already declined. Everyone pursues worldly fashions, yet I privately hold fast to the orthodox Dao. As the true teaching grows daily more feeble, however, I have drawn in my aspirations and no longer seek a lofty, unsullied reputation; I open my heart and receive the defilement of the dusty world. I seek only to be spared the injury of striving for fame and profit, and wish to abide in uselessness and thereby find contentment in myself. In times of leisure, stillness, and ease, I pass the days at peace, studying the meaning of the Jing (scriptures), and constantly accumulating meritorious De (Virtue).

In the winter of the year Guisi, I led my disciples in performing the “Three Primes Mud-and-Soot Zhai” (a type of Zhaijiao purification ritual in which those observing the fast must abide by strict Keyi liturgy and prohibitions). The ritual was rigorously regulated and lasted more than ten days, even extending over several months. We carried loads upon our backs and labored beneath frost and dew; our feet grew numb with cold, and our heads and faces were smeared with mud. Then we met with overcast rain, our clothes soaked through, fierce winds piercing, and bitter cold cutting to the bone. We endured hardship, followed the liturgical codes, and dared not grow slack.

Everyone was already quite thin and frail, and I feared that the company would grow exhausted and negligent, so I spoke of the “Five Sentiments” in order that we might exhort and console one another. This text also gives a general account of the various methods of Zhai, assigning names to the different methods; the various Zhai each have their own distinct paths, and I have done my best to explain them here—not in order to glorify myself. May the several dozen companions of like mind, sincere in faith and devoted to the Dao, be able to examine and comprehend it.

If those who participate in the Tutan Zhai (a type of Daoist zhai ritual of purification) lack these five kinds of grateful hearts, they cannot grasp the intent of my exhortations. Otherwise they would merely waste incense offerings, lapse into hypocrisy and deception, treat the laws and precepts with contempt, insult the teachings of the master’s lineage, and instead invite guilt and punishment.

The first gratitude is to remember the kindness of one’s parents in giving birth to and raising one. Parents brought me into the world and nurtured me, holding me in their arms and placing me on their laps, nursing and attending to me, caressing and rearing me. They exhausted their minds and spirits, wore down their bodies with toil and anxiety. Whenever I was unwell or fell ill they would worry and fret over me, their hearts burning as if on fire, fearful day and night, paying no heed to wealth and finding it hard to sleep, growing daily more haggard from the constant concern, tears flowing without cease, hoping only that I would grow up in peace, and thus I have become what I am today. Contemplating this profound kindness, it is truly beyond measure. I vow to repay my parents, yet their virtue is as vast as the heavens and in the end cannot be fully repaid.

The second gratitude is to remember how parents arranged for one to come of age and establish a household. Parents prepared the cap and sash for me, arranged my marriage, accumulated wealth, and set up the family estate. They wished me to live in plenty, yet unwittingly caused me to develop a greedy mind, leading me to contend with others for profit and thereby attracting resentment and faults. Because of this I might act wantonly, violating the principles of heaven and earth and harming others; or I might offend the royal laws outwardly and violate the precepts of the underworld inwardly, even suffering punishment that endangers my life. All these calamities arise from me. If now I should fall into the Three Paths (santu, the realms of suffering in Daoist teaching), I would have to endure all manner of disasters: traversing the sword trees, plunging into the knife mountains, suffering fierce fire and boiling cauldrons, then sinking into the dark and icy cold; or being hung under the lashes of whips and rods, bearing a thousand agonies and ten thousand torments that are hard to endure. Grief, affliction, worry, and hardship make every moment difficult to pass. I wish to escape but have no power to save myself. At this thought I am so grief-stricken that I choke and cannot speak, my vitals wrenched asunder, my whole body trembling, my mind and spirit thrown into confusion, so that I cannot but prostrate myself on the ground, begging for deliverance through the Tutan Zhai.

All people in the world, whether noble or humble, men or women, are fortunate to have received a human body, yet they are also encumbered by the body and by the cravings of mouth and belly—this is a heavy burden of life. In eating they pursue the five flavors; in clothing they pursue the five colors. Once they have eaten their fill and dressed warmly, they no longer restrain themselves, but chase after luxurious garments and fine playthings, indulge their passions in pleasure, and strive without cease, knowing no contentment at all. These desires damage the spirit and harm the body, yet people never become aware of it.

When the Qi (vital energy) fails and the body decays, of what use, in the end, are all the things one pursued throughout life? The solitary soul leaves the world alone and must still endure every kind of suffering. These matters of the netherworld are truly hard to fathom; they are not something worldly people can penetrate. The wealth that is left behind is scattered and instead becomes a source of later trouble: it incites wickedness and theft, and becomes an object of contention among descendants. The strong obtain more, the weak obtain less; some seize and some lose, and they resent one another because of it. Some take their case to the officials and are themselves condemned; some appeal to gods and ghosts and secretly draw down fierce calamity. Even among one’s own flesh and blood there is mutual crushing and rivalry; the love of closest kin is discarded like mud, and the deep affection of brothers and sisters is fought over for a mere fly’s head of petty gain. In the end one perishes and the family estate is broken; the root of the disaster lies entirely in greed and luxury.

For a long time worldly people have entangled one another and sunk together, yet they have never awakened; even if they awaken, they still find it hard to renounce. Those of the past were like this, and those who come after will still be like this; gradually they take it all as the normal state, and willingly remain so without feeling any regret. I have seen clearly that this is not the true Dao (the Way), and so I turned away from the secular world, left my relatives, cast aside glory and entanglements, and sought the Great Dao, cultivating in order to attain long life. I accumulate learning so that I may deliver myself; if I can achieve something and help others, I must first repay the kindness of my parents who raised me day by day.

Now I have obtained the Divine Elixir (the wondrous elixir spoken of in Daoist cultivation), which can rescue those who have sunk into the sea of suffering. I have mounted this Dharma Bridge (a metaphor for the gateway that leads people to cultivate the Dao and leave suffering behind) and I cross toward the farther shore. Joy and sorrow intermingle in my heart; my emotions surge. My mind and Shen (spirit) yearn toward the Great Dao, so that I forget my own body and no longer attend to myself, only taking refuge with a single heart in the Three Treasures (the Dao, the Jing (scriptures), and the Masters, as honored in Daoism), exhausting my wealth to provide what the teachings of the Dao require, fearing only that I have not done enough, with no further hesitation or reservation. May my parents ascend to the Hall of Blessings, forever free from the Eight Difficulties (the various obstacles to cultivating the Dao or hearing the true teaching), and no longer troubled by worry and affliction. May this slight sincerity of mine be used as an offering of dedication and support.

I gratefully remember the multitude of Taishang Honored Ones and the Great Sage Perfected Ones (Daoist honored deities and attained Perfected Ones), who inaugurated this vast teaching and transmitted these exquisite methods, rescuing the sufferers in the Three Paths (the three evil destinies of hell, hungry ghosts, and animals) and guiding and relieving those in the Five Paths (the five destinations of sentient beings in the cycle of reincarnation). The ancestors of billions of generations, along with the disasters and enmities accumulated over successive lives, can all attain liberation in a single day. Souls in the netherworld can ascend to the halls of blessing, and later generations of descendants also receive the grace. I myself attain the Dao, and posterity can also enjoy the blessings. This kindness is extremely rare, hard to encounter even in ten thousand kalpas. Having been fortunate enough to meet it, I should devote my entire life to practicing it, with single-minded loyalty, without any slackening.

I gratefully reflect that I have been able to obtain this blessing, knowing that it has its own cause: someone formed the affinity and instructed and converted me, so that I could see this method. The Master's kindness is profound and boundless, surpassing heaven and earth. Therefore, whenever I practice the Dao, I earnestly pray, hoping to exert a little of my meager strength to repay the Master's kindness. Even if the body is weary, I dare not refuse.

Having received this method, I am both reverent and joyful, feeling immeasurable in my heart. This is comparable to a person who craves treasures discovering a storehouse containing gold and jade; others do not know, only he himself has seen it. He then crouches and conceals himself, striving to dig, accumulating over days and months without knowing fatigue; he only fears that the treasure will be completely excavated, and does not feel the toil. He braves the frost and snow, wades waters and treads ice, frozen so that the cold pierces the bones, yet does not feel cold; the road is rugged and dangerous, yet he does not consider it hard. Because his heart is joyful and content, he is not subject to confusion.

The Various Methods of Zhai

Zhaijie (the rituals and practices in Daoist cultivation of purifying body and mind and observing the precepts) is the foundation for cultivating the Dao and establishing De, and also the gateway for seeking the true Dao. Those who study the Dao and seek immortality, as well as those who pray for blessings and hope for auspicious events, all cannot do without Zhaijie. People's knowledge has depths and shallows, realizations have quickness and slowness; endowments and capacities have highs and lows, and the practices they can bear also have more or less. Therefore the sages, according to the differences in refinement and coarseness of the methods of Zhai, distinguished them item by item, overall dividing into nine ranks, totaling twelve kinds of Zhai methods.

The first is the “Dongzhen Shangqing Zhai” (a type of Daoist purification ritual), which has two methods of cultivation.

The first method is to cut off all worldly interactions, leave one’s companion, cease associating with friends, and have neither wife nor servants in attendance. One lives alone, sitting in quiet repose, with a mind of simple detachment, sinking into stillness and facing only one’s own shadow. Taking Wuwei (non-action) as the foundation, one does not deliberately pursue anything. Through embryonic breathing (a method of breath regulation in cultivation), one gathers the mind-spirit and causes it to be guarded within. When the stomach is empty and food is no longer taken, one can settle into peaceful stillness. Originally the fast stipulated eating at the Shen hour; now, since no food is consumed, this period simply allows the abdomen to remain empty. The mind-spirit ordinarily governs outward activity and is easily agitated; now, with no external affairs, it is allowed to gather quietly within, and this is therefore called “putting the spirit to sleep.” Qi (vital energy) is produced through the transformations of the body and is directed by the mind-spirit; when the mind-spirit moves, Qi circulates. Now that the mind-spirit is gathered within, Qi likewise becomes still and the body is at peace. One forgets the physical form and forgets the self: the form always depends upon external things, and contact with them produces entanglements. Now there is no pressing inner suffering from hunger or cold and no outer bindings or burdens; the mind is empty and still, so that one no longer perceives the body’s existence. In this manner one can unite with the Dao (the Way). The original substance of the Dao is empty and void; human beings are separated from it by their attachments. Now, able to forget those attachments, one attains a mysterious union with the Dao.

The second method is called “Gu Ying Yi Huo” (solitary shadow, even and open). All other aspects are the same as the first method, differing only in the fusion of form and Shen (spirit) into one and in the recitation of Jing (scriptures).

The second is the “Dongxuan Lingbao Zhai” (a type of Daoist purification ritual), which has nine methods and takes Youwei (action) as its foundation. Its ceremonies are solemn and the number of participants is large; the etiquette is respectful and measured, and every movement of advance or retreat follows prescribed rules. The regulations of this Zhai liturgy are extremely rich; they proclaim the sound of the teaching, instruct and transform sentient beings, allowing those who seek salvation to hear it and those who come to pay homage to behold it. Its scale is grand and its contents too extensive to be enumerated in full.

The first method is the Jinlu Zhai (Golden Register Fast), a type of Daoist Zhaijiao (purification ritual), used to harmonize Yin-Yang and pray for the stability of the state. The ritual is set on a mysterious altar paved with reed mats, the altar surface measuring three zhang and two chi in width. Ritual facilities are arranged on the four sides of the altar, and the teachings of the Dao (the Way) are proclaimed so that those in need of help may hear of it and come to seek audience; the scale of the ritual is grand and difficult to describe in every detail.

When the Jinlu Zhai is held, an opening is made on each of the four sides of the altar, totaling four gates that form a unified whole. An inner altar is set up within, two zhang and four chi wide, with gates at the four corners; ten gates are established below the altar, each with a titled placard. A tall lamp nine chi high is placed at the center of the altar, with nine lamps lit upon it. Lamps of various colors totaling thirty-six are arranged around the four sides of the altar; additional lamps may be added outside according to the number of participants. Documents recording the celestial writings of the five directions are placed on five tables, each guarded by one golden dragon of the five directions. Each golden dragon weighs one liang. The sacrificial texts are written on five-colored patterned silks and assigned according to direction; the total amount of silk embodies the ritual number of thirty-six.

Daoist priests assemble the people to practice the Dao: nine days in spring, three in summer, seven in autumn, five in winter; twelve days in the last month of each season, or six days according to another account. After performing rites and making prayers to the ten directions, the celestial documents are incinerated and the dragon-patterned silks distributed as an act of merit.

The second method is the Huanglu Zhai (Yellow Register Fast), another Daoist Zhaijiao whose ritual is largely the same, used to uproot the sinful roots of the nine ancestors, that is, to pray for the salvation of one's ancestors. The size of the altar and the setting of gates are the same as for the Jinlu Zhai, but ten lamps are placed around the four sides of the altar.

In the Huanglu Zhai, incense fires are also set at each of the ten gates, and patterned silks of the ten directions serve as tokens of faith. The patterned silk used by commoners is one hundred thirty-six chi in length; for feudal lords and the Son of Heaven the quantity is stipulated according to their ranks. Ten golden dragons are prepared, each weighing one liang; the dragons are classified as upper, middle, and lower grades to distinguish high and low status. The practice of the Dao and rites of thanksgiving are directed to the ten directions, with the number of days following the Jinlu Zhai and arranged by the four seasons. After the ritual, the golden dragons are thrown into water or buried in mountains, and the remaining patterned silks are distributed as merit.

The third zhai method is called Mingzhen Zhai. Cultivators of the Dao employ this rite to deliver the souls of their own ancestors spanning hundreds of millions of generations who dwell in the Nine Darknesses (Jiuyou, the netherworld). When the rite is held, a long-burning lamp is kindled in the open air and nine “da” are placed upon the lamp (thus in the original text; the precise referent remains unclear). The arrangement resembles the Jinlu lamp method (a form of lamp ritual used in Daoist Zhaijiao purification rituals), yet neither an altar nor gateways are established. The cultivator practices the Dao before the incense and lamp for one day and one night, dividing the time into six periods during which worship and repentance are offered to the ten directions.

The fourth zhai method is called Sanyuan Zhai. The original text first states that cultivators perform it three times a year in order to repent for faults committed while studying the methods of the Dao; it later specifies that the Sanyuan Zhai is used to repent both for offenses incurred in the course of study and for the crime of “fanqiu” (the term “fanqiu” is retained from the original, its meaning remaining unclear). The observances fall on the mid-month days of the first, seventh, and tenth lunar months. Each day the cultivator bathes three times and practices the Dao three times, offering worship and repentance toward the twenty-one directions within the zhai hall. Here “practicing the Dao” means cultivating in accordance with the ritual protocols, while “worship and repentance” denotes paying homage while confessing sins and seeking pardon.

The fifth zhai method is called Bajie Zhai. Cultivators hold it eight times a year in order to repent for the sins of the Seven Mysteries (Qixuan, referring to remote ancestors and forebears) as well as those committed by oneself in previous lives and the present life. On each of the eight festival days the ritual practice is carried out in six periods within the zhai hall, together with worship and repentance directed toward the ten directions.

The sixth zhai method is called Ziran Zhai. It is a universal method of salvation: inwardly it cultivates one’s own person, outwardly it aids all sentient beings; it may be used to dispel disasters and pray for blessings, and is arranged according to actual need. It may be conducted in company or performed alone; its duration may be one day or three days, or it may extend for a hundred or a thousand days; each day the practice may be divided into three periods or six.

The seventh zhai method is called Dongshen Sanhuang Zhai. Simplicity is prized in its cultivation; it may be undertaken alone or with a single companion. The cultivator should withdraw far from worldly dust and await the descent of the spirits, bathing in “the water of mysterious clouds,” burning “the incense of the August Sovereign,” lighting “the candles of mysterious fluid,” and ingesting “the fragrant pills of the Upper Prime.” The period of practice may last a thousand days, or it may be conducted in three or six periods.

The seventh method is the Dongshen (Cavern of Spirit) Sanhuang Zhai (one of the Daoist Zhai purification rituals). During cultivation the most important requirement is purity, stillness and single-minded concentration; the practice may equally be undertaken by a solitary individual. Worldly distracting thoughts must be cut off as one looks forward to communion with the spirits. One bathes with “Mysterious Cloud Water,” burns “Sovereign Incense,” lights “Mysterious Fluid Candles,” and consumes “Upper Origin Incense Pills.” Various famous incenses are blended according to prescribed proportions, steamed and refined into incense beads, strung on green silk and dried in the sun; further incense products are prepared from assorted spices and oils, incense decoctions are made for bathing, and incense pills are formulated for ingestion. All of these operations must follow the corresponding regulations.

Thirty-six oil lamps are also lighted and thirty-six incense burners installed, arranged in an interlaced sequence. Attendants take turns serving the lamps and burners without interruption, day and night. The period of practice may last one hundred days or forty days. Throughout this time one concentrates on silent recitation, lights lamps and offers incense, and chants a pure and mysterious prayer text of thirty-two characters. When it is desired to summon deities the Huangwen is used for the invitation; the particular spirits invoked, the matters inquired about, and aspirations such as seeking immortality or longevity are all determined according to one’s own wishes.

The eighth method is the Taiyi Zhai (the purification ritual of sacrifice to the Taiyi deity). Reverence and solemn dignity come first, together with using the Huangwen to summon the deities. Which spirits one wishes to invite, what questions to ask, or whether immortality and long life are sought, all follow one’s own intent. Cultivation must always observe the principles of purifying the body, guarding oneself, establishing a firm resolve and putting it into practice; one proceeds solely according to this method and does not mix practices from other lineages. Ceremonies of kneeling, bowing and yielding likewise follow the regulations of this method and are performed with respectful completeness of ritual.

The ninth method is the Zhijiao Zhai. This form of Zhai prizes purity, simplicity and unadorned plainness. Both Jijiu (Daoist officiants) and those who have received the Fulu (talismans and registers; cultivators registered in the Daoist name lists) must observe it in common. Matters great or small are to be handled according to the rules. When hunger is felt only vegetables may be eaten; vegetables facing the sovereign, however, may not be consumed. After the midday meal not even water is allowed to enter the mouth, and one must constantly contemplate the Jing (scriptures) and recite the methods of the Dao, without a moment’s slackening.

It is also said: When performing the “Three Primes Mud-and-Charcoal Purification Ritual” (Sanyuan Tutan zhai, a purification ritual whose principal methods are arduous self-reproach and the confession of sins), one must take bitter perseverance and the keeping of precepts as the source of merit. It can obtain liberation from karmic offenses for successive generations of Daoist patriarchs as well as for clan relatives and members of one’s own household stretching back through innumerable kalpas; it can also rescue them from distress and suffering and help people pass through times of peril. The merit of this purification ritual is extremely great and beyond all measure.

When the purification ritual is held, an altar is set up in the open air and a railing is installed (a fence enclosing and protecting the ritual altar). All who take part bind themselves together as companions of the same Qi (tongqi, linked by the shared relationship of jointly practicing the retreat). Those of virtuous conduct smear yellow earth upon their foreheads, let their hair hang loose and fasten it to the railing, bind their hands behind their backs, hold a jade bi-disc in the mouth, lie prone upon the ground with their legs spread three chi apart, and then kowtow in confession and apology for their sins. In the daytime they perform worship three times facing west; at night they perform worship three times facing north.

The purification ritual is divided into three consecutive segments—the Lower Prime, the Middle Prime, and the Upper Prime—each lasting twelve days, for a total of thirty-six days. After the term of the Lower Prime is completed, the Middle Prime of twelve days is continued, and within it three additional “passages” (guo, specific rites of confession or performance within the purification ritual) are carried out, after which thanks are offered. After the Middle Prime is completed, the Lower Prime is again continued, twelve days for each Prime, totaling thirty-six days; after the Lower Prime is completed the Middle Prime of twelve days is continued, with three additional “passages,” after which thanks are offered. After the Middle Prime is completed the Upper Prime is continued, and within its twelve days five additional “passages” are performed, after which thanks are offered. When offering thanks, rites must be performed facing the directions that correspond to the Lower, Middle, and Upper Primes respectively, as well as one among the four sides and four corners; the greater the number of directions, the more arduous the ritual performance becomes.

It is called the “Three Primes” (Sanyuan) because “prime” (yuan) carries the sense of beginning and origin. A year has twelve months and three hundred sixty days; ten days constitute one xun, and each month has three xun. Twelve months thus total thirty-six xun. Taking this as the unit of calculation, it is further divided into Three Primes, each of twelve days, which together form one cycle.