《黄帝阴符经心法(胥元一)》

The Dao (the Way) of the Yinfu hinges on “observation”: concentrate wholeheartedly on observing and experiencing, without offering any additional explanations. Silently turn the gaze inward; if you can suddenly see your original nature with perfect clarity, then even if the sages and worthies of all generations never utter another word, the essential meaning of the Yinfu is already fully contained therein. Should you not yet have understood, continue studying the following passages.

“Heaven” refers to the laws that arise spontaneously of themselves, “Dao” refers to the principle within them, “holding” means to maintain, and “acting” means to practice. Those who study the Dao must experience these natural principles and use them to corroborate their own original nature. After grasping this, they must then hold to it and put it into practice in their daily activities, attaining such proficiency that they never deviate even for a moment. In this manner the purpose of the Yinfu is already fulfilled. This opening sentence summarizes the entire Jing (scripture), and the subsequent text will specifically elucidate the principles of the Dao of Heaven.

Heaven possesses five kinds of “thieves” (five functions that influence, consume, or transform things); those able to see and recognize them will flourish.

The Dao of Heaven is originally nothing other than a single Qi (vital energy)—the primordial Qi that constitutes Heaven, Earth, and all things. Its transformations appear as the Five Phases (wuxing: Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth). Here they are not called the Five Phases but the “Five Thieves,” an expression used to characterize the Dao of Heaven: it cannot be seen or heard, yet it operates between the two polarities of Yin-Yang, driving the succession of cold and heat, the shifts of past and present, generating the myriad things and causing them constantly to tend toward new life while discarding old forms. Who can perceive the workings therein? Thus it is said, “Heaven has Five Thieves.” Those who can see the operation of the Dao of Heaven attain clarity and insight; those who can accord with it prosper.

What is spoken of here is the observation of the Five-Phase transformations of the Dao of Heaven from within the single Qi; one may equally experience, from within human nature, the functioning of the Five Constants of “our Dao.” The Five Constants are benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness. Their action is formless and silent, belonging exclusively neither to Yin nor to Yang; they can enact benevolence as well as righteousness, can be round and harmonious as well as square and upright, coming and going without fixed times or directions. Those who understand and practice the Five Constants find that their De (Virtue/Power) grows ever more luminous and flourishing day by day. Hence it is said, “Those who see them prosper.”

The Five Thieves reside within the human heart-mind and become manifest through the operation of the Dao of Heaven.

The “Five Thieves” refer to the Dao (the Way) of Heaven. To say that “the Five Thieves reside in the heart” means that the Dao of Heaven is also present within the human heart; the Dao of Heaven being in the heart means that the heart itself is the Dao. How profoundly these words cut!

The sage put forward “the Five Thieves reside in the heart” probably out of concern that later students of the Dao would seek the Dao of Heaven only in the external heavens and earth, without realizing they should also observe the Dao of Heaven within their own hearts. That he expressed it to this degree shows how earnestly he wished people to understand heavenly nature.

If a person can concentrate on realizing “the Five Thieves reside in the heart,” immediately acknowledging and grasping the principle within, it is like Zengzi hearing Confucius say “My Dao is threaded through everything by a single fundamental” and answering “Yes,” with no further questions. To grasp Confucius’s meaning in this way—how gratifying! If one has not yet grasped it, one should concentrate on studying “the Five Thieves reside in the heart” until some insight arises, and only then will one know that all everyday speech, actions, and movements are manifestations of the Dao of Heaven from within one’s own heart, with no other impurities mixed in; is this not precisely acting in accordance with the Dao of Heaven?

The Neiguan Jing (Scripture of Inner Observation) says: “When the sage teaches people to cultivate the Dao, it is teaching them to cultivate the heart; teaching people to cultivate the heart is teaching them to cultivate the Dao—it is merely adding the word ‘cultivate.’” Mencius said: “Fully expanding one’s own heart, one can know one’s original nature; knowing original nature, one can know the Dao of Heaven.” The words of the sages are so concise, direct, and clear—what further doubts could students of the Dao still have?

The universe seems as if held in the palm of the hand, and the transformations of the myriad things seem as if arising from oneself.

The Tongxuan Jing says: “The four directions together with above and below are called yu, while past and future are called zhou.” By “myriad transformations” is meant the changes of all things; by “hand and body” is meant one’s own self. If a person can understand and firmly believe that “the five thieves reside in the heart” (the five factors that disturb the human heart exist within it), they will realize that however vast the space of heaven and earth, however remote the stretch of time, and however inexhaustible the transformations of all things, all of these can be perceived from within one’s own heart and need not be sought only from without. Mencius said: “All things are complete within me. To turn back and seek in oneself with sincerity of heart, there is no greater joy.” This is precisely the principle at work.

“Heavenly nature is the human being; the human heart is the pivot of transformation.”

At birth a person’s original nature is tranquil; this is the nature endowed by Heaven, and therefore it is said that “heavenly nature is the human being.” When original nature leaves tranquility and begins to stir, it is called “heart.” The heart is the master of the whole body and likewise the key to the transformations of all things, hence the statement that “the human heart is the pivot of transformation.” The Datong Jing says: “In stillness it is called nature, and the heart is contained therein; in activity it is called heart, and nature is contained therein.”

The term “nature” must not be treated by those who cultivate and study merely as a phrase found in books. One ought to turn back upon oneself, observe and inquire deeply, and truly attain some realization, so as not to disappoint this lifetime of learning. Only thus can one return to the root and restore the original source, transcending the ordinary and approaching the realm of the sages; this is no idle claim. Otherwise, if the heart is occupied day after day with calculating clever devices and chasing after stratagems, contending and grinding against external things, the heavenly nature will be worn away and one will drift into worldly delusions. Even while living out each day without self-knowledge, the inner heart will remain as distant from original nature as heaven from earth—whose fault is this?

“Establish the standards of the Heavenly Dao in order to settle the human heart.”

What is meant by “to establish” is to be firm and upright, neither biased nor partial. “The Dao (the Way) of Heaven” refers to the principle followed by heavenly nature. “To stabilize” means to be calm and settled. “The human” refers to the mind dominated by selfish desires.

If one accords with the principle of heavenly nature and cultivates until the mind is open and expansive, free of attachment to the self, how could selfish desires still remain? Before reaching this state, one must diligently maintain the original mind, taking firm uprightness and impartiality as the governing principle of one’s being, and stabilize the mind dominated by selfish desires so that they do not arise. In this way the nine orifices of the body (the openings of the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and so on) and the four limbs will not move recklessly, and both body and mind, inner and outer, can be at peace. Therefore it is said: “Establish the Dao of Heaven in order to stabilize the human mind.”

If a person lacks the quality of firm uprightness in their heavenly nature, is weak and without independent judgment, and upon acting immediately follows selfish desires, indulging in perversity and unrestrained extravagance, there is nothing they might not do. For such a person, seeking the stability of all under Heaven is impossible.

“When Heaven issues the killing mechanism, dragons and snakes arise on land; when humans issue the killing mechanism, Heaven and Earth are overturned.” When the seasons of Heaven manifest austere killing transformations, dragons and snakes will also appear on the land; when the human mind stirs thoughts of killing and attacking, the order between Heaven and Earth will likewise be affected as if overturned.

“Kill” refers to majesty and deterrence. “Dragons and snakes” refer to the larger among animals that lie dormant in hiding. “Rising onto land” means emerging from underground. “Overturning” means inversion.

The majesty and deterrence of the Dao (the Way) of Heaven manifest as thunder. When the time ought to be still, the Dao of Heaven conceals the opportunity for activation, remaining silent and soundless, so that people do not know where it is hidden. When the time ought to activate, it follows the seasons to exert its effect, without the slightest selfishness or desire, startling the myriad things like thunder, awakening hibernating beings, bringing them forth from obscurity, each growing and flourishing unimpeded, so that all things receive its grace.

The authority and function of humans arise from the wondrous workings of the mind-spirit. Before it appears, it accords with the Dao of Heaven in the dark and mysterious, so that even ghosts and spirits cannot fathom it, let alone humans. When external things stir it, selfish desires arise, and the pure Heavenly Principle is thereby harmed. People then indulge in harm as vicious as tigers and wolves, injuring others and disrupting the myriad things. Thus the sage exclaimed: “When the human mind activates the killing mechanism, Heaven and Earth will be overturned.” This is to say, once the human mind moves recklessly, how can it stray so far from the Dao of Heaven and Earth?

When the Dao of Heaven and the human mind activate together, the myriad transformations can have a determinate foundation.

“Heaven” refers to the Dao of Heaven, “human” to the human mind. “Ding” means stable and unmoving, “ji” means the foundation. The Dao of Heaven activates its function in accordance with the time, without selfishness or desire, and all things receive its grace. When the human mind deals with affairs and encounters external things, it likewise takes absence of selfishness and desire as its principle—this is the joint activation of the Dao of Heaven and the human mind.

In this manner, all kinds of affairs and external objects arrive in succession, like a bright mirror hanging in a lofty hall: however numerous the changes, it reflects them without refusal. That clear, perfectly round and luminous, stable and unmoving foundation remains forever undisturbed. If even a hair’s breadth of selfish desire lingers in the mind, one falls into the condition of “the human mind activating the killing mechanism,” and how then could the myriad transformations be stable and orderly?

Human nature has differences of cleverness and dullness, but all can be collected and concealed.

The original essence is being disturbed. If even a hair’s breadth of selfish desire lingers in the mind, one falls into the condition of “the human mind activating the killing mechanism,” and how then could the myriad transformations be stable and orderly?

Human nature has differences of cleverness and dullness, but all can be collected and concealed.

The original, authentic nature of a person (the originally pure and upright nature) is still and unmoving, as clear and profound as the boundless Great Void. How could there possibly be any distinction between cleverness and clumsiness within it? When the scripture speaks of “nature having cleverness and clumsiness,” it refers to the temperament formed through later habits and contamination. A person who has trained to excel at writing and calculation may not be skilled at archery or driving a chariot; one who is good at making pottery may not necessarily understand surveying and correction.

Therefore the sages warn people to restrain and conceal their abilities. “Concealing and hiding” means not deliberately displaying oneself. If one constantly shows off, the things one is skilled at will be used for ostentation and display, while those one is not skilled at will be eagerly pursued. Ostentation damages De (Virtue/Power), and forced striving depletes one’s original authenticity; neither is in accord with what is natural. If one can return to the clear and quiet authentic nature, responding to affairs through spontaneous resonance and naturally becoming unobstructed, one draws near to the Dao (the Way).

The deviant delusions that arise from the nine orifices (the openings of the human body such as the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth) have their key in the three essentials (the crucial factors that play a leading role in the activities of body and mind). These three essentials can set a person in motion, and they can also bring a person to stillness.

Both the upper and lower aspects of the human person may fall into deviant delusions. If one can return to the clear and quiet authentic nature, responding to affairs through spontaneous resonance and naturally becoming unobstructed, one draws near to the Dao.

The deviant delusions arising from the nine orifices have their key in the three essentials; the three essentials can set a person in motion and can also bring a person to stillness.

The human body has nine orifices in all (the openings of the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and so on), which serve to communicate with the divine spirits, just as doors and windows do for a house. Among them, three govern the critical points of calamity and of life and death; they are called the “Three Essentials”: the ears, the eyes, and the mouth. The ears hear sounds, the eyes behold scenes, and the mouth speaks and debates. These activities stir the inner mind, give rise to desires, and cause a person to indulge the emotions and lose their original nature, so that the nine orifices may fall under the domination of deviant thoughts.

Yet since one is born human, can the ears never hear, the eyes never see, or the mouth never speak? To forbid them entirely would be impossible, for a person is not wood or earth. Therefore the scripture says, “There can be activity and stillness.” This instructs later students that they must apply discernment to these three essential points—the ears, eyes, and mouth. Hear only what ought to be heard, see only what ought to be seen, and speak only what ought to be spoken. What ought not to be done, one should neither hear, nor see, nor speak. In this way deviant thoughts have no means of arising through the nine orifices, and the functioning of the Three Essentials can be properly withheld or released.

Confucius said, “Do not look at what is contrary to ritual, do not listen to what is contrary to ritual, do not speak what is contrary to ritual, and do not do what is contrary to ritual.” This is precisely the same principle.

Fire arises from within wood; once disaster breaks out, it often brings destruction. If treachery grows within a state, once the moment is seized the state will collapse. Those who understand these principles and cultivate body and mind accordingly are called sages.

When wood gives rise to fire, the more vigorously the fire burns, the more swiftly the wood is consumed. When a state gives rise to treachery and wickedness, the more those forces flourish, the more chaotic the state becomes. These are inevitable principles. Human beings likewise possess an original source of life, yet their innate true nature is originally clear, still, and merged as one with the heavenly principle. Once the ears and eyes turn outward to encounter sounds and colors, and the mind gives rise to desire and aversion, the passions then obscure the original nature. The breath dissipates, Jing (essence) is exhausted, and one suddenly proceeds toward death before reaching the natural span of years. How is this any different from wood giving rise to fire or a state giving rise to treachery?

The sages left these teachings in the hope that later students would perceive the principles within them, discard emotional attachments, dispel desires, cherish Jing and Qi (vital energy), nourish Shen (spirit), and maintain a state of clarity, stillness, simplicity, and Wuwei (non-action), persevering morning and evening without change. Through such cultivation and tempering until the practice ripens, one suddenly realizes the original nature, returns to the root and reverts to the source, transcending the ordinary and entering the sagely realm. This is the way of the sages. Therefore it is said: “One who understands the way of cultivation can become a sage.”

The Heart Method of the Yellow Emperor’s Yin Fu Jing, Upper Volume

The Heart Method of the Yellow Emperor’s Yin Fu Jing, Middle Volume

Annotated by Xu Yuanyi, the Six-Void Wanderer of Tongchuan in Shu

Chapter on Revealing the Nourishment of Life

Heaven causes the myriad things to live and also causes them to die; this is the law of the Dao (the Way).

The “Heaven” spoken of here refers to what is natural and Wuwei, not to any deliberate arrangement of the birth and death of the myriad things. The arising and passing of the myriad things occur of themselves when the time arrives. Life and death alternate, spring departs and autumn comes; this has been the constant principle of the heavenly Dao from antiquity to the present. Human beings are themselves one among the myriad things, and their life and death are no different from those of other things. Understanding this, why be overly delighted at living or averse to dying? Following what is so of itself, with a mind that is calm and at ease, is the impartial way of nourishing life. When this is accomplished, one can accord with the constant principle of the heavenly Dao and regard life and death with detachment.

Heaven and earth make use of the myriad things; the myriad things make use of human beings; human beings likewise make use of the myriad things.

Heaven and Earth are the parents of the myriad things, which are generated by the Qi (vital energy) of Heaven and Earth. Thus it is said that Heaven and Earth give birth to and nourish the myriad things, while the myriad things take the Qi of Heaven and Earth in order to live; humans take from the myriad things to sustain themselves, and the myriad things in turn achieve their completion through human labor. This is the principle whereby the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and Humanity mutually generate and accomplish one another.

The myriad things take the Qi of Heaven and Earth to live and grow by the moistening of rain and dew, each developing according to its size and inherent nature until, upon maturity, it obtains what it needs. This is the manner in which the myriad things take from Heaven and Earth. For humans to survive, they too must first receive nourishment. The essential point of nourishing life is that, whether noble or humble, rich or poor, one should be content with one’s allotted portion in life, taking a moderate amount of the essence of food to cultivate life, just as the myriad things receive rain and dew—sufficient is enough. One should not fix one’s thoughts on desires that lie beyond one’s proper lot, so that the inner mind suffers no depletion and the external world causes no disturbance. With body and mind at peace and Qi and blood in harmony, one can enjoy the full span of one’s natural years without dying prematurely in mid-course. In this way one may further attain the realm of a deeply rooted and firmly established foundation, of long life and enduring vision—how could this be merely a matter of preserving the physical body?

If one goes against one’s allotted fate and exceeds one’s proper share, indulging desires and remaining insatiably greedy, so that the spirit labors day and night without cease, it is like using the precious pearl of Marquis Sui as a pellet to shoot a yellow sparrow—is this not great folly?

The Tongxuan Jing says: Those of ancient times who delighted in seeking the Dao (the Way) ate only to fill the belly and replenish strength, and wore clothes only to cover the body and protect against cold; they neither sought greedily for more nor hoarded in excess. They kept the eyes clear and still, not looking greedily; the ears quiet, not listening greedily; the mouth closed, speaking little; the mind set aside, thinking little. They experienced no excessive pleasure, pain, joy, or anger, merging into one with the myriad things and not clinging to distinctions of right and wrong.

When the taking and using among Heaven and Earth, humans, and the myriad things each attains its proper measure, the Three Powers can be at peace.

“Yi” means each obtaining its proper place and conforming to what is suitable. Heaven and Earth regard generating and nurturing the myriad things as suitable; the myriad things regard growing to fullness and flourishing as suitable; humans regard securely abiding in their proper roles and being content with moderation as suitable. When Heaven and Earth, the myriad things, and humans each do not lose their suitability, the “Three Powers” of Heaven, Earth, and Humanity can all be at peace.

If Heaven does not send rain at the proper time and the land does not grow crops, this is Heaven and Earth losing suitability. If crops fail to bear fruit and embryos or eggs cannot hatch, this is the myriad things losing suitability. If one violates one’s proper role, indulges desires, and is greedily insatiable, internally disturbing Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) while externally damaging harmony among people, this is human feelings losing suitability. Those who cultivate the Dao should adopt suitable practices and abandon unsuitable ones. In this way the inner mind can be settled and tranquil, external human affairs harmonious and joyful, the myriad things able to flourish, and disasters and dangers no longer arising, so that one may hope to enjoy the governance of Great Peace.

Therefore it is said: “When diet accords with the seasons, the various parts of the body can be in harmony; when actions follow the critical timings of things, the myriad transformations can be settled.”

Food and drink serve to nourish the body, and what is prized is taking them in the right amount at the right time. In this way the five viscera can be harmonious and replete, every part of the body can be healthy, and a person can peacefully enjoy nature and life. Eating too much or too little will both cause the body to fall ill.

This passage continues the preceding discussion of the “Three Thieves” (referring to the principle of mutual interaction and reciprocal taking among Heaven, Earth, and humanity) in order to explain the meaning of “activating the mechanism.” When the human mind has not yet given rise to a thought, it is tranquil and lucid, like the vast sky; at such a moment, where is there any mechanism? The instant a single thought first sprouts, before it has manifested outwardly, others do not know of it and only oneself is aware—this is called the “mechanism.”

Living in the world, one must establish oneself, nourish the body, and respond to affairs; some action is always unavoidable. How could one completely refrain from giving rise to thoughts? The key is to follow the “appropriateness of the Three Thieves” spoken of earlier: in nourishing life one should not harbor excessive desires; in handling affairs one should not seek only private gain. External things arrive in succession; even if there are a thousand beginnings and ten thousand threads, one can respond to each matter as it comes without leaving the slightest attachment. In this way, how has the root of inner stillness and non-movement ever been disturbed? Therefore it is said: “Activate its mechanism, and the myriad transformations are at peace”—grasp well the critical juncture at which thoughts arise, and the changes of all things can be settled.

If even a thread of selfish desire disturbs this critical juncture, thoughts in the mind become chaotic and mixed; one is busy trying to sort them out without a moment’s leisure. How then could there be even an instant to turn back and look upon the root of inner stillness and motionlessness? If even a moment of tranquility cannot be obtained, still less can one bring peace to the myriad things. How is this any different from eating too little or eating to excess and thereby injuring the body?

Worldly people only know how to employ marvelous power, knowing “how the marvelous exerts its function,” yet they do not know that the state which appears as Wuwei (non-action) and does not reveal any functioning is precisely the root from which the marvelous can be brought into play.

Here, the “people” spoken of are ordinary worldly folk; “shen” means the manifestation of ghosts and spirits. Ordinary people do not understand the proper Dao (the Way) of nature and life. They do not know how to abide contentedly in their allotted station and to be self-sufficient. They constantly generate delusive thoughts, greedily pursuing things beyond their due, and they fear calamities, so they pray to ghosts and spirits, fawning upon them in quest of extra blessings. They know that ghosts and spirits can become manifest, yet how could they know of that unseen root within themselves that enables life to function?

Although the marvelous functioning of a person’s Shen (spirit) cannot be seen in form or color nor heard as sound, it can nevertheless accord with the De (Virtue/Power) of Heaven and Earth and with the brightness of the sun and moon. Unchanged from antiquity to the present, it endures constantly through life and death. Day after day it impels the body’s movements, capable of a thousand transformations and myriad changes, yet in its employment it shows no strain. This is called the subtle and marvelous, also called the utmost Shen. Life and death constitute the great affair of human existence, yet this Shen does not alter with life and death—how much less, then, do fortune and misfortune, which are merely external circumstances?

When Confucius fell ill, Zilu asked to pray to the heavenly spirits and earthly deities on his behalf. Confucius replied, “I have already been praying for a long time.” This refers precisely to inner cultivation and the self-attainment of the Dao. “Heavenly spirits and earthly deities” is the ancient designation for the spirits of Heaven and Earth. The Guanyinzi states: “Only the sage can employ the marvelous principles, yet not be dominated by ghosts and spirits.” The Tongxuan Jing (scripture) says: “The heart-mind is the master of the body; Shen is the treasure of the heart-mind.” The Yijing (classic) says: “What is called Shen, the marvelous, means that it enables the myriad things each to display its marvel; it is not hurried yet swift, does not walk yet arrives.” Students should carefully contemplate this, and they will eventually attain realization.

The sun and moon follow their respective measures in their courses; large and small affairs each have their fixed numbers. From this arise the accomplishments of the sage, and from this the functioning of spiritual illumination is manifested.

This passage discusses the cultivation process of stilling the mind to realize the Dao (the Way), indicating that the learner must apply extra care and diligence. The sun is called “ri” and belongs to yang, completing one circuit of the heavens in a year; the moon is called “yue” and belongs to yin, completing one circuit of the heavens in a month. This shows that the movements of sun and moon each follow their own orbital measures. A greater month has thirty days and a lesser month twenty-nine, demonstrating that the courses of sun and moon also have fixed numbers.

At the winter solstice a single yang qi (vital energy) begins to sprout. After forty-five days, at the Start of Spring, the three yangs intermingle and pass through in smoothness, plants and trees begin to bud, and thus it is said “the sagely accomplishment is generated therein.” By Jingzhe, yang qi gradually increases while yin qi recedes, the hexagram image enters Great Strength, thunder begins to sound, and thus it is said “the brightness of Shen (spirit) emerges therein.”

Before the winter solstice the ten thousand things return to their roots, the brightness of Shen conceals itself in profound darkness and depth where no traces can be seen. This analogizes how a person’s inner nature of ultimate Shen has not yet become manifest, remaining stagnant in obscurity as if dwelling in a place of extreme yin qi, seeing nothing and meeting obstruction wherever one goes.

Therefore one must observe the principle by which the ten thousand things grow through “sagely accomplishment” and take the patterns of natural operation as a method for advancing in cultivation. The practitioner should make the heart-Shen empty and still, seeking the root within oneself that appears unmanifest yet exerts wondrous functions. Persist in effort like the coming and going of sun and moon, as a hen incubates her eggs with unbroken warmth; accumulating day after day and month after month without interruption, then suddenly one day there is an awakening, just like “the return of a single yang.” The Yijing says: “In the Fu hexagram, perhaps one can see the original heart of Heaven and Earth?”

After awakening in the heart one must still gather the heart-Shen and hide it deeply within, holding to it with refined diligence day and night. The brightness of Shen gradually fills and flourishes, wisdom functions with free penetration; this is precisely when the Dao of the noble person grows day by day and sagely accomplishment becomes manifest. Maintaining diligent practice over a long time, when the cultivation work becomes mature and proficient the spiritual awareness of Shen becomes perfectly fused and brightly clear, suddenly penetrating without obstruction, acting freely in all directions and always appropriately, so that one can roam at ease amid transformations and stand transcendent above the ten thousand things. This is “the brightness of Shen emerges therein.” When study and practice reach this point the work attains its utmost, and one can befriend Heaven and Earth, participate in creative transformation, even walk on water and fire, ride flying dragons, roam beyond the four seas, and enter the realm of ultimate Shen.

Borrowing external things to nourish life is the lesser “stealing”; using the seasonal timings of Heaven and Earth’s movements to accomplish one’s own cultivation work is the greater “stealing.” Therefore it next says: “This is the mechanism of stealing.”

“Daoji” (stealing the mechanism) refers to grasping the hidden yet crucial workings of things. People throughout the world often cannot see it and do not understand it; only the gentleman can comprehend it. Stealing possessions to sustain oneself is merely a small “theft”; seizing the years and time to complete one’s cultivation and learning is a greater “theft.” Therefore it continues: “Grasping this hidden mechanism, the people of the world cannot see it and do not know it.”

The people of the world cannot see or understand this mechanism. When the gentleman comprehends it, even in hardship he can abide by his proper duty; when the petty person comprehends it, he may rashly gamble with his life.

The so-called “Daoji” refers to the mechanism of action discernible from such behaviors as seizing wealth. The so-called “ji” (mechanism) is the subtle yet vital clue; all human actions, pauses, and various deeds originate from it. If this is so, why then say that the people of the world cannot see it and do not know it? Because people cling to life and fiercely pursue material enjoyment, their selfish desires obscuring the place where the mechanism appears, so they neither see nor perceive it. If one can reverse the mind that chases after material desires and instead seek this mechanism, who could claim they cannot see it?

The mechanism that gentlemen and petty persons comprehend is originally the same, yet the outcomes differ. This is because, when observing things, their states of mind differ in clarity and turbidity, and the habits they have cultivated daily differ in good and bad, thus producing the distinction between gentleman and petty person.

Those of good habits are content with their lot, live simply yet sufficiently to nourish life, hold fast to inner peace, do not alter their integrity because of hardship, and calmly await the end of life. Yan Hui (a disciple of Confucius) dwelt in a humble alley, eating a bowl of rice and drinking a gourd of water; others could not endure such poverty, yet he did not change his joy. This is how the gentleman, having comprehended the mechanism, remains upright even in hardship.

Those of bad habits indulge their passions, turn away from benevolence and righteousness, are greedily insatiable and utterly shameless, disregarding danger and disaster. Robber Zhi (the legendary bandit chief) ran rampant across the world, oppressing others by force, not even regarding his parents and brothers, and finally met his death at Dongling. This is how the petty person, having comprehended the mechanism, rashly risks his life.

Alas, human nature is equally received from Heaven, originally without distinction of gentleman or petty person. It is only because the use of the mechanism tends toward the good or the not-good that the two become so far apart. How can one not choose with care?

The blind (those who cannot see) have keen hearing, and the deaf (those who cannot hear) have clear vision. Cutting off the root of even one private advantage yields results that surpass the use of troops by ten times.

The blind cannot perceive colors, so their Shen (spirit) concentrates upon the ears and they therefore hear with sensitivity; the deaf cannot hear sounds, so their Shen concentrates upon the eyes and they therefore see with clarity. “Advantage” refers to the convenience brought by the ears and eyes, and also to what people greedily seek; “troops” refers to an army. “Ten times” means the efficacy reaches ten times what is gained by military means.

The blind and the deaf lose a portion of the convenience of the ears and eyes, yet they obtain the capacity to hear keenly and see clearly because their Shen is wholly concentrated. Those who study the Dao (the Way) should likewise dedicate themselves single-mindedly, withdraw their cleverness and alertness, and refuse to let the ears and eyes chase after external objects. They must cut off the root of selfish desire so that the ears and eyes become still and the mind empty and luminous. Heavenly principle will then gradually prevail while human desires gradually recede. Such efficacy exceeds victory by military force tenfold; it is the preliminary practice of nourishing Shen and a gradual path for entering the gate of the Dao. Those who study the Dao must not rest content with this, but should continue their efforts, tracing desire back to its source and reaching a deeper realm.

When this cultivation is repeated three times in the course of a day and a night, the results surpass the use of troops by ten thousand times.

The “three” refers to the three crucial points of the ears, the eyes, and the mouth; “turning back again and again” means turning the gaze inward and gathering oneself in; “day and night” indicates that this is to be done continuously without interruption. To chase after sounds when one hears them, to follow external things when one sees colors, to boast of rhetorical brilliance when one opens the mouth to argue—these are all matters that the secular world esteems. There are those who spend their entire lives in this way and yet never know how to turn the gaze inward and keep watch over themselves. This is truly something to lament.

The Jing (scripture) says, “Turn back three times, day and night.” This means letting the ears listen back toward the soundless, letting the eyes look back toward the colorless, and letting the tongue no longer contend. Once the three places of ears, eyes, and mouth have been gathered in, a person’s original nature manifests of itself. If one holds oneself with care, day and night without cease, selfish desires have no way to enter and deviant Qi (vital energy) cannot invade. As the cultivation grows deeper day by day, heavenly principle becomes ever more refined, until at last one returns to the original source, reverts to the root, and recovers the original condition of life. If this is compared to commanding an army in battle and overcoming the enemy, the merit accomplished can be ten thousand times greater. This is indeed the subtle method of nourishing Shen (spirit), and also the utmost of penetrating the Great Dao (the Way). The Cantong qi says: “The three treasures of the ears, eyes, and mouth must be firmly held and not allowed to move recklessly; then one can, like a Zhenren (True Person), plunge into the deep abyss and float freely in the guizhong (the inner place of centered correctness).” This is precisely the principle being described.

The mind arises on account of external things, and it is also lost on account of external things. The crucial point lies in the eyes.

The eyes are the body’s gateway to the outside world, and among the three essentials of ears, eyes, and mouth they are the first to become active, governing the act of seeing. The mind lodges within them and is therefore able to see; after seeing, it loves; after loving, it wishes to possess. Once selfish desire has sprouted, if one lets it flow onward without drawing it back, the mind will be carried away by external things.

Did those of high attainment in ancient times never look at external things? They saw external things, yet merely saw them and left it at that—how could they lose their original mind on that account? The Laozi says, “Do not look at those things sufficient to arouse desire, and the mind will not be disordered.” This does not mean that one does not look at things, but that when one sees a thing one does not treat it as something worth craving. Zhenren Zhang said, “When you see an external thing, you can see your own mind; without external things, the mind has nowhere to appear.” These words are extremely subtle. Why is this so? When seeing an external thing, if one can see one’s own mind, one will not be led about by that thing. If a person can, in the very moment of seeing a thing, recognize their own mind, they will know that everything between heaven and earth is a place where their own mind appears, and that nothing can obscure it. In that case, what thing could still be counted as an external object standing independently outside the mind?

Heaven does not confer grace, and yet thereby great grace is accomplished. When thunder crashes suddenly and wild winds blow fiercely, there is nothing among the myriad things that does not tremble in response.

All things in their great abundance are born by receiving the Qi (vital energy) of heaven and earth, yet Heaven has never deliberately bestowed any favor upon them. Heaven grants no grace and requires no repayment from the myriad things; yet the myriad things naturally feel gratitude and reverence toward Heaven. This is precisely Heaven’s great grace that enables life to grow.

However, Heaven does not claim this grace as its own. At times it undergoes transformation: thunder crashes swiftly, fierce winds blow violently, shaking all things. There is nothing this wondrous function of Heaven cannot manifest. The purpose of the Yinfu Jing is to observe the Dao (the Way) of Heaven. When it is said here that Heaven grants no grace, this is so that the ruler may comprehend: to love and nourish the people without regarding oneself as possessing humanity and virtue. The people then naturally till the land to obtain food, weave to obtain clothing, live in peace and enjoy their work, and thus all under Heaven is at peace. Those who cultivate learning may also comprehend from this: regard the body as a straw dog used in sacrificial rites, regard fame, rank, and profit as chaff; do not put oneself first in order to nourish life; do not cling to cleverness, but hold fast to De (Virtue/Power). In this way the physical form can be kept whole, Jing (essence) and Qi restored, and one attains the state of unity with Heaven. Is this not also Heaven’s great grace that enables life to grow?

As for seeing, hearing, joy, and anger in daily life, these are all manifestations of the wondrous functioning of original nature. Once they arise they become clearly visible; how do they differ from the transformations of thunder sounding and wind rising? Let us try to explain it this way: thunder and wind are the divine and wondrous Qi of heaven and earth, the wondrous functioning of Yin-Yang change. Before they have manifested, even ghosts and spirits do not know where they are hidden; once they arise they are swift and violent, and none of the myriad things is not shaken.

This may be compared to a person’s Shen (spirit) and Qi: when they are deeply stored and cultivated, not yet arisen, when not a single thought has stirred, even someone like Li Zhu (the legendary figure of extraordinary eyesight) or Shi Kuang (the legendary figure of extraordinarily acute hearing) cannot discern their form or movement through seeing and hearing. Once joy and anger erupt, they are plainly revealed and cannot be concealed. If a person can, while not a single thought has yet arisen, be fully endowed with true faith, open the eye of wisdom, illuminate the principles of things without the slightest doubt, then it can be said they have understood the principle of thunder and wind lying hidden. Further, when seeing, hearing, joy, and anger arise, they can also comprehend their own Shen and Qi and their functioning, which are like swift thunder and violent wind. In this way, all kinds of great transformations and functions naturally manifest. This is the true student of the Yinfu learning who aspires in cultivation.

To truly attain supreme joy is to have a constant surplus of joy remaining in the heart after one has returned to original nature; to truly attain quietude is to become naturally incorruptible.

The “supreme joy” spoken of here is not the enjoyment of wealth, honor, and having every wish fulfilled, but the joy that comes from recovering one’s original nature. The pleasure that wealth and status bring is often obtained by chance; before that pleasure has lasted long, decline may follow close behind—how can this count as supreme joy? The joy of returning to original nature is mild, tranquil, and even, yet it always seems to have something left over; thus it is said that “supreme joy has a surplus of nature.”

This is like a person who has left hometown and kin, wandering for a long time in a foreign land, unable to return home for many years. One day he finally arrives home, sees his parents, brothers, wife, and children; the family reunites, talking and laughing, and the joy is beyond description. How much more so for someone who has long been lost in the secular world and sunk in the sea of suffering, who suddenly awakens, sheds the burdens of the physical body, returns to the true origin (the root of authentic being), and no longer clings to life and death, past and present—that joy is even more inexpressible. Zhuangzi says: “The greatest joy is like having no joy.” This refers precisely to a state unmoved by external things and free of all attachment.

Nothing is better for attaining integrity and purity than ultimate stillness. Ultimate stillness means having no desires in the heart; without desires, one is naturally sincere and incorruptible. If one has not yet reached ultimate stillness, even if one urgently wishes to make oneself clean and upright, there still remains the thought of pursuing integrity—how can this be true integrity? Zhuangzi says: “Having a person of integrity watch over the storehouse is not as good as shutting the door properly and sealing it well.” This is because one without desire will not give rise to a greedy heart.

The Dao of Heaven appears most partial, yet it enables all things to obtain their proper use, thereby achieving the greatest impartiality. “The control of birds and beasts lies in Qi (vital energy)” means that the key to restraining and gathering animals or all things lies in Qi; in the context of cultivation, Qi usually refers to the inner breath and power that animates the movement of life.

The Dao (the Way) of Heaven is still and wordless; this is its most subtle, most inward aspect. The four seasons operate without pause; this is its utterly impartial and selfless aspect. This means that the original nature bestowed by Heaven’s mandate is pure and still, profound and constantly present—this is the most hidden aspect of human nature. Once it is set in motion, it manifests in the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, body, and mind, performing the functions of seeing, hearing, smelling, speaking, sensing, touching, and thinking. This is like the natural cycling of the four seasons, without favoritism, and it embodies the complete impartiality of original nature.

Extending the impartiality of original nature and applying it to the family, the state, and all under Heaven, how could there be any reason for injustice? Yet speaking thus only reaches the level of written reasoning; it has not yet touched the genuine experiential realization. A better way is to turn the gaze back upon one’s own inner heart and awaken to sudden understanding. That inner original nature which others cannot know is also the most subtle and most private aspect; when one truly realizes it, a person no longer clings to the self. When even “I” is no longer clung to, how could there still be partiality or selfishness?

If original nature truly abides in the heart-mind, then in dealing with people and affairs one will naturally treat all equally: honoring and loving one’s own elders and extending this to the elders of others; cherishing one’s own children and extending this to the children of others. In this way the affairs of the world can be governed as easily as turning something in the palm of the hand—why would one still need to deliberately reason out the impartiality of original nature?

If one does not understand the original nature given by Heaven and cannot put the impartiality of original nature into practice, then what remains in the heart is only selfish desire. To satisfy selfishness one indulges the desires, causing the Qi (vital energy) nature to become fierce and rigid; few are those who can refrain from this. The sages love the multitude and are always skilled at guiding and rescuing them; therefore they next speak of “the control of what is captured lies in Qi” (subduing body and mind lies in regulating the breath and the Qi-nature), in order to exhort those not yet awakened: one must know that indulging desires and letting Qi run rampant in brute force damages original nature, so one ought to apply diligent effort to restrain it, so that the mind of selfish desire does not arise and the rigid, forceful Qi does not surge up; let body and mind return to emptiness and stillness, restoring the original nature that is clear, luminous, and settled—would this not be good?

If a single desire cannot be stopped, if a surge of angry Qi cannot be calmed, original nature will be injured and harmony destroyed, bringing disaster upon oneself and one’s kin; one is instead controlled by the Qi-nature—whose fault is this? Mencius said: “Hold fast to the will of your own heart-mind, and do not let the Qi be thrown into disorder.” Laozi said: “When the heart-mind commands the Qi, that is forcing strength; when things reach the extreme of their fullness they grow old.” This is called not according with the Dao; that which does not accord with the Dao soon perishes.

Life is the root of death, and death is also the root of life.

Living is what people like, while death is what they dislike. The human mind blindly clings to life, excessively pursuing glory, luxury, and comforts, which instead harms life through over-nurturing. Therefore, clinging to life may precisely become the root of heading toward death; this is the meaning of “life is the root of death.”

If a person’s mind is emptied of distracting thoughts, remaining indifferent and practicing Wuwei (non-action), preserving original nature and true essence without harming oneself, then the stillness of the mind can become the foundation for preserving life. This is the meaning of “death is the root of life.” In the past, Guangchengzi cultivated himself on Kongtong Mountain for twelve hundred years, and his physical form never aged; this exactly illustrates this principle.

Guangchengzi said to the Yellow Emperor: “The subtle essence of the supreme Dao (the Way) is profound, distant, and dark; the ultimate of the supreme Dao is dim and silent. Do not look, and do not listen; simply gather the Shen (spirit), making the inner mind quiet, and the form will naturally become upright. One must be pure and still, without deliberately laboring the mind.” He also said: “Do not let the body become overly fatigued, do not stir the Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), then the body can endure long; this is the essential secret for preserving life.”

Fundamentally speaking, matters are not so simple: original nature originally has neither birth nor death; it is merely called birth from the aspect of manifestation, and called death from the aspect of concealment. Why is this so? Life that is born here will necessarily die there; precisely because there is death over there, there is birth here. If there were no death over there, how could there be birth here? Therefore, birth here takes death there as its root, and death there in turn becomes the root of birth here. Birth followed by death, death followed by birth, exiting and entering in endless cycles, like a ring without end.

Who can investigate the root of birth, death, exiting and entering, and clearly see that existence which comes and goes together with birth and death, yet has never truly been born nor truly died? Once this is understood, the interdependent root of birth and death will be cut off, and a person can stand independently and unchanging.

The Zhuangzi says: “Only after transcending attachment to life can one reach ‘Zhaoche’ (sudden clarity like dawn breaking the darkness); after reaching Zhaoche, one can see the Dao that stands independently of all things; after seeing the Dao, one can transcend past and present; after transcending past and present, one can enter the realm of neither birth nor death.” Nowadays, where can one find a person who has reached Zhaoche, with whom these principles can be discussed?

Blessings can arise from calamities, and calamities can also arise from blessings.

Indulging cravings and deepening likes and dislikes is regarded by people of the world as beneficial to life. Who knows that once desires overpower original nature, heavenly nature is lost, and this is the greatest calamity? Therefore it is said that blessings arise from within calamities. Restraining cravings and discarding likes and dislikes is regarded by people of the world as of no benefit to life. Who knows that once desires recede, heavenly nature can be preserved, and this is the greatest blessing? Therefore it is said that calamities arise from within blessings.

Seen in this light, how can the principle of blessings and calamities between ruler and minister, father and son, or in gatherings of brothers and friends be easily judged? They are like Yin-Yang and like clear or rainy weather, interweaving and transforming, with no instance of being sharply divided and never changing; only the Dao (the Way) remains constantly unchanging. Those who comprehend and practice the Dao are of bland tastes and few desires, empty, still, and in Wuwei (non-action); they reverse their gaze upon themselves, returning to the state not yet drawn by thoughts of desire, their minds at ease and their joy boundless. How then could blessings and calamities affect them?

Those who have not yet reached this realm ought, when in favor, to think of disgrace, and when in security, to consider danger, so that they might perhaps preserve the blessings and avert the calamities. As for those who nourish life, the principle of blessings and harms generating one another is especially immediate in daily living, rising and resting, eating and drinking; how can they not be cautious?

The Zhuangzi says: One who loves horses uses a bamboo basket to hold the dung and clam shells to hold the urine. Mosquitoes happen to bite, and the groom hastily steps forward to swat them, yet without mastering the timing, so that the horse snaps the bit, injures its head and neck, and cracks its chest. The original intention of the heart was to cherish and protect, yet instead it causes the loving care to come to nothing—this is the principle in question. This principle is especially relevant to the nourishing of life; how can one not be cautious?

The ignorant believe that the patterned principles of heaven and earth constitute sagely illumination...

The “foolish people” spoken of here refers to those who lack true wisdom. They know only how to gaze upward at celestial phenomena and look downward to examine geography, to read widely in the Jing (scriptures) and histories, and to inquire deeply into Yin-Yang, thinking that thereby they have exhausted the Dao (the Way) of the sages, yet they do not understand the patterns and principles of things between Heaven and Earth. The Jing, the books of the various philosophers, and the historical records are merely leftover traces of the sages’ thought, like the bamboo basket for catching fish or the net for catching rabbits. To look only at the flowing water while forgetting the source, to seize only the twigs while discarding the root, and to bury oneself in these year after year without turning back—is this not foolishness? Therefore it is said: “Foolish people take the patterns and principles of Heaven and Earth as the sagely Dao.”

When Confucius was fifty-one years old he had still not heard of the Great Dao, so he traveled south to visit Laodan (Laozi). Laodan asked, “I have heard you are a worthy man of the north; have you attained the Dao as well?” Confucius replied, “Not yet.” Laodan asked, “Where have you sought the Dao?” Confucius said, “I sought it in rites and regulations, and after five years still had not obtained it.” Laodan asked again, “Where did you seek it afterward?” Confucius said, “I sought it in the transformations of Yin-Yang, and after twelve years still had not obtained it.” From this it can be seen that the patterns of Heaven and Earth, the transformations of Yin-Yang, and the various regulations can all be grasped through study and inference; but that subtlety which cannot be transmitted by speech and must be realized through inner awakening is the Dao of the sages.

Duke Huan of Qi was reading a book in the hall while Wheelwright Bian, a craftsman who made chariot wheels, was fashioning a wheel below. He laid down his mallet and chisel, stepped forward, and asked, “May I inquire what book you are reading?” Duke Huan said, “The words of the sages.” Wheelwright Bian asked, “Are the sages still alive?” Duke Huan answered, “They are already dead.” Wheelwright Bian then said, “Then what you are reading is merely the dregs left by the ancients. To delight in the dregs and still imagine one has tasted the true flavor—how could such a person be worth discussing with the subtle principles that dwell in the heart?”

“I take the patterns and principles of things of the time as wisdom” means: I rely on the patterns and principles of contemporary things in order to understand truth.

The Dao (the Way) is right before our eyes; if one goes off to distant places to seek it, one will not find it. Turning back to look for it close at hand, it is present in daily life and ordinary actions. There is Dao in every single thing. Some people do not understand this, and pursue only the patterns and regularities of heaven and earth as if they were the sagely Way. Even if they make some discovery, what they obtain is merely the patterns and regularities of heaven and earth—what connection do these have with themselves? Therefore the sages extended the principles they had already grasped, hoping that later students might also come to understand them, and so they said: “I comprehend the Dao by means of the things and principles I perceive in the present moment.”

What is called “things of the moment” refers to the objects a person sees at that time; “patterns and principles” refers to the affairs a person experiences at that time and the reasons within them. “Wisdom” means intelligence. Things have size, large and small; affairs have weight, light and heavy—these are all the things and principles of the present. When a person responds to situations of differing magnitude and weight and judges right and wrong among them, if it were not the true wisdom of original nature manifesting itself, by what else could such judgments be made?

The sages used this to transmit their teaching and to enlighten later generations, so that those who contemplate it carefully might awaken to the true knowledge within original nature, return to the root and restore the origin, until they personally behold that the Dao is right before their eyes, vividly and vitally present. Alas, is this something only the Yellow Emperor could achieve? The everyday lives of ordinary people are originally just like this; it is only that those who understand it are few. If a person, in responding to affairs and perceiving things, can realize that this is the manifestation of the true wisdom of original nature, with no remaining doubt in the heart, then that person can keep pace with the Yellow Emperor, riding a dragon to ascend the heavens and roaming through clouds and mist.

Someone asked: “To speak of responding to affairs and perceiving things as the Way of the Yellow Emperor—does that not seem rather crude and shallow?” I remained silent and did not reply. The person kept pressing the question, and I was forced to say: “This is roaming through the clouds and mist.” He still did not understand. So I said: “A person’s beauty or ugliness can be known only by looking in a mirror; without looking in a mirror, there is no way to know it. The subtlety of the mind likewise appears when it comes into contact with things; without things, the functioning of the mind has no way to manifest. The sages understood that the marvelous functioning of the mind is present in daily life and cannot be separated from it even for an instant. Therefore they begin from what is near at hand, pointing out the path of entry so that people may easily grasp it from what they see every day. It is like climbing high: one must start from low ground; traveling far, one must begin from nearby. Why do you doubt this?”

Dongguozi asked Zhuangzi: “Where is the Dao?” Zhuangzi said: “The Dao is everywhere.” Dongguozi said: “Please be more specific.” Zhuangzi said: “It is in ants and mole crickets.” Dongguozi asked: “Why so lowly?” Zhuangzi said: “It is in panicle millet and barnyard grass.” Dongguozi asked again: “How even lower?” Zhuangzi said: “It is in tiles and shards.” Dongguozi asked once more: “Why still more humble things?” Zhuangzi said: “It is in piss and shit.” When Dongguozi asked where the Dao is and Zhuangzi answered in this way, was this not precisely making the Dao manifest by means of the things and principles of the present moment?

The Zhongyong says: “The Book of Songs says: ‘The hawk flies up to the heights of the sky; the fish leaps in the deep abyss.’ This means that the principle is clearly visible both above and below.” Are hawks and fish not things visible before our eyes? The hawk flying up into the sky and the fish leaping from the abyss—are these not precisely the conditions and patterns each presents? What is meant by seeing the Dao both above and below is that the true wisdom of human original nature manifests in the very acts of looking up and looking down. Those able to discern the principle from this are perhaps only Zisi.

Ever since the First Patriarch Bodhidharma came from the West to China, Chan has advocated not relying on written words, but pointing directly at the human mind so that one may see one’s nature and become a Buddha. Later Chan masters who inherited this essential teaching, when instructing practitioners, would sometimes shout, sometimes strike with a stick; sometimes raise a finger, sometimes pick up a Buddha image; some would say “the cypress tree in the courtyard,” some would say “the exposed pillar and the lantern”; some would say “it is clearly and vividly manifest upon all the hundred grasses—this is precisely the original intention of the Patriarchs,” some would say “the verdant bamboos are all thusness; the flourishing yellow flowers are nothing but prajna.” Even supernatural powers and marvelous functions, carrying water and hauling firewood, were all used to illuminate the essential teaching of Chan. Is this not also using the things and principles of the present moment to awaken people?

From ancient times, those who have thereby grasped the meaning of Chan are beyond counting. But students of recent times know only the phrase “things of the moment and their patterns and principles,” without understanding why one uses the things of the moment and their patterns and principles to explain the Way. Alas, words each have their root, and affairs each have their governing principle. The sages used the expression “things of the moment and their patterns and principles” to reveal the subtlety of the mind’s method; students ought themselves to grasp the root and governing principle within it, and not treat it merely as a debate about things and principles. Only in this way can one truly bring the mind of the Yellow Emperor into accord with one’s own mind. Otherwise the Yellow Emperor has long since ridden away on his dragon, and the infatuated will only chase in vain, like someone clinging to the shafts of a cart and refusing to let go.

Others use speculation to judge me, taking me for foolish and ignorant; I, however, do not act by means of speculation.

“Yu” means to conjecture or guess. True wisdom is naturally clear and luminous. If one clings rigidly to written words and doctrines and, relying on one’s own conjectures, attempts to fathom the Dao (the Way) of the sages, one will lose one’s original authenticity, go against one’s innate nature, and this is the height of foolishness. Therefore it is said, “People are made foolish by yu; I by the absence of yu.” The Yellow Emperor means that in my daily responses to affairs I accord with the opportune moment, relying entirely on the authentic wisdom inherent in my original nature and following the natural manifestation of principles, without any need for something extra acquired through learning, and thus there is nothing to speculate about. This statement points directly to the essential meaning.

Sages seek sagehood with a mind that “expects to become a sage,” whereas I do not seek sagehood while holding such an expectation. Therefore the Jing (scripture) says: “To sink into water or to walk into fire is to bring destruction upon oneself.” Here the perilous situations of sinking in water and entering fire illustrate that clinging to the pursuit of a particular result may instead invite ruin.

“Sheng” carries the sense of thorough penetration and understanding, while “qi” means to assemble, to meet, or to attain. People suppose that because the sage is broadly learned and penetrating they should deliberately study the wording and inner principles of the Jing (scriptures/classics), seeking extensive knowledge so as to comprehend and connect with the Dao (the Way) of the sage. Hence the saying: “The sage attains sagehood through assembling.” (That is, the sage reaches the realm of sagehood by means of such comprehension and meeting.)

Yet the Dao cannot be grasped by knowledge, nor can knowledge be equated with genuine understanding. Can mere wide hearing and extensive learning enable one to enter that state in which one forgets external things, lets go of distinctions among people, and is suddenly at ease in self-possession? I do not make the deliberate pursuit of “becoming a sage” my aim, because an emperor once remarked that the title of sage cannot be obtained simply by applying the mind to broad learning and synthesizing knowledge. What is called “sage” is merely a designation people confer. I myself am not even a fixed and unchanging “being,” still less the Dao. The Dao is already only a name established with reluctance; how much more so the name of the sage?

If one concentrates solely on seeking extensive learning and penetration in order to exchange it for the title of sage, this is to chase reputation while discarding the substance, to pursue the branches while losing the root. It is like throwing oneself into water or fire—how could one not lose one’s life? Water and fire can originally bring benefit to people; they injure people only because people themselves violate the constant principle and throw themselves in. Can one then blame the water and fire?

The Jing were left by the sages in order to awaken those not yet enlightened. Why do later scholars love the written words yet fail to grasp the substance they contain, knowing only the coarse exterior while losing the subtle inner principles? They exhaust their intelligence, lecturing and reciting day and night without pause, seeking only to speak grandly and outdo others so as to gain fame and salary; they also conceal true feeling and adopt affected, hypocritical conduct, thereby cutting off the genuine principle. Is this not like courting one’s own destruction? If study is undertaken to cultivate oneself, if one thoroughly investigates the principles of things in the Jing and comes to know one’s heavenly nature, then what extra can the sage add to me? If this can be so, what reason would there be to discard the Jing, the writings of the various philosophers, and the historical records?

The Dao of nature is originally tranquil, and therefore heaven, earth, and the myriad things are able to grow. The regular patterns of the movements of heaven and earth gradually unfold, and therefore the Qi (vital energy) of Yin-Yang alternately prevails. Yin and Yang advance and recede in mutual succession, so that the transformations of the myriad things proceed smoothly. What extra can the sage add to me? If this can be so, what reason would there be to discard the Jing, the writings of the various philosophers, and the historical records?

The Dao of nature is originally tranquil, and therefore heaven, earth, and the myriad things are able to grow. The regular patterns of the movements of heaven and earth gradually unfold, and therefore the Qi of Yin-Yang alternately prevails. Yin and Yang advance and recede in mutual succession, so that the transformations of the myriad things proceed smoothly.

The state of natural stillness is the root of the Dao (the Way). Once the Dao is set in motion, it generates Heaven and Earth. Heaven and Earth distinguish Yin-Yang, and as Yin and Yang mutually shift and agitate one another they produce the mutual generation and overcoming among the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). Thus the myriad things continuously transform without end. What ultimately governs all of this? It is the natural Dao.

The Xisheng Jing (a Daoist scripture) states: “The natural gives birth to the Dao; the Dao gives birth to the One; the One gives birth to the Two; the Two give birth to the Three; the Three give birth to the myriad things.” The Yijing says: “In the Yi there is Taiji (Supreme Ultimate); from Taiji arise the two modes of Yin-Yang; the two modes give rise to the four images; the four images give rise to the Bagua (Eight Trigrams); by means of the Bagua one judges good and ill fortune.” When the sages discuss these matters, can it possibly be without foundation?

Human nature is likewise. Let us attempt to explain this. The Guanyinzi (a Daoist classic) says: “Nature is the state before the mind has arisen.” When the mind has not yet become active, it abides in stillness and is completely one with the natural Dao. The moment a thought stirs, all phenomena and principles appear together. The great include Heaven and Earth; the minute are like motes of dust. Forms such as the square, the round, the curved, and the straight also arise in accordance with change, never coming to an end.

One must truly believe this in order to exhaustively investigate the principles of things, fully know one’s nature, and thereby complete the learning of the sages and worthies. If faith is even slightly insufficient and doubt remains in the mind, then even a sage cannot dispel that doubt on one’s behalf.

Therefore the sages, knowing that the natural Dao cannot be contravened, accord with it in establishing their regulations. As for the Dao of ultimate stillness, even the calendrical systems (the institutions and methods for calculating the calendar and seasonal nodes) cannot be brought into accord with it.

Lü refers to lülü (the twelve pitches used to determine pitch), employed to harmonize Yin-Yang; li refers to the calendrical techniques for calculating the times of Heaven. Why can sages surpass ordinary people? Because they understand that Heaven and Earth have operational principles that arise of themselves, humans have inherent natures that arise of themselves, and all things have functions that arise of themselves, none of which can be departed from. Therefore sages established teachings, formulated rites and legal standards, and transmitted them to later generations, so that rulers and ministers, fathers and sons, brothers, and husbands and wives each keep their proper order, so that all things fulfill their uses, so that all things accord with their own nature and life, thereby maintaining and preserving the harmonious and balanced state of Heaven and Earth. This is not a matter of deliberately forcing arrangements, but of acting in accordance with the original natural state of things.

The Dao of ultimate stillness is the natural Dao (the Way). It has no sound and no odor; it cannot be seen or heard. Only those whose inner hearts are sincere and clear, who can silently experience it, are able to comprehend it. How could such a Dao be fully attuned by the lülü pitches and calendrical methods?

Thereupon there is a marvelous implement from which the myriad phenomena are generated. The Bagua (Eight Trigrams), symbols representing the transformations of Heaven, Earth, and all things, and the jiazi (the system of pairing heavenly stems and earthly branches to record years and times), contain the subtle and inscrutable mechanisms of change, as if concealing functions as unfathomable as those of spirits and ghosts. The principles of Yin-Yang mutually overcoming and transforming have already clearly manifested in various forms and omens.

“Qiqi” is another name for “nature,” and also another designation for Taiji (Supreme Ultimate). It refers to the profound and fundamental subtle principle within the human mind. Zhuangzi called it “independent transformation” (the spontaneous generation and change of all things). The myriad phenomena, the Bagua (Eight Trigrams), and the Jiazi (sexagenary cycle) all flow forth from Qiqi, so the scripture says: “Once there is Qiqi, the myriad phenomena, the Bagua, and the Jiazi arise from it.”

The sages established these additional names to transmit their teachings, hoping that later learners could recognize the root from terminal phenomena, trace back along the transformations to the origin, and return to the primordial Dao (the Way). If a person can directly perceive the principle within the myriad phenomena, the Bagua, and the Jiazi without generating other views, and naturally comprehend its source, then they can grasp Qiqi. Otherwise, being able to investigate the principle from before the myriad phenomena, the Bagua, and the Jiazi have even appeared is also rare.

“Shenji guicang” refers to the marvelous function of Qiqi. “Shen” indicates the unpredictable changes of Yin-Yang, while “gui” refers to what is difficult to detect by sight or hearing; the ingenious mechanisms and hidden recesses of Qiqi are even more profound and unfathomable. This praises the function of Qiqi as deeply subtle and concealed, hard to see or grasp. Here “Yin-Yang” means movement and stillness; the “art of mutual overcoming” is the mutual shifting of Yin and Yang, in the course of which victory and defeat become apparent.

When stillness overcomes movement, one leans toward stillness; when movement overcomes stillness, one leans toward movement; only when the two are precisely balanced is there harmony. Action that accords with the middle way proceeds smoothly in all things; action that loses its proper measure easily meets with danger. A person’s fortune and misfortune, life and death, are all bound up with action. Although this principle is profound and hard to fathom, once action occurs the result gradually appears like the rising sun, and the various signs of the world become clearly visible, so it is said: “Brightly it advances into phenomena.” This means the principle clearly reveals itself and gradually presents itself amid the signs.

The sages finally use this to caution people to act with care. If one can understand the principle of Qiqi before acting and put it into practice in one’s undertakings, it will be as clear as a mirror reflecting a form or the moon reflected in water. In this way one can not only reduce faults in handling affairs but also illuminate one’s own nature; true wisdom remains clear and unobscured in action, and only then can one be said not to have failed the sages’ teachings.

Yet even if the scenery of Qingcheng Mountain is described in the most exhaustive detail, without personally climbing it one may not truly experience it.

The Heart Method of the Yellow Emperor’s Hidden Talisman Classic (Huangdi Yinfu Jing Xinfa), Lower Volume.