《黄帝阴符经注解(任照一)》

Of all things within the Dao (the Way), the most precious are books; of all things within books, the most precious are words; and of all things within words, the most precious is their underlying purport. Thus the Great Dao is, by nature, beyond expression in words, yet without words there is no way to illuminate its principles. The vast image of the Dao is, by nature, formless, yet without symbols it is hard to probe its hidden depths. The subtlety of a symbol cannot be conveyed without words, and the subtlety of words cannot be grasped without study.

The Hunyuan Emperor (Hunyuan Huangdi, the Daoist honorific for Laozi) once said: "I came to understand through learning; it was not something I was born with." From this we know that no one can comprehend the Great Dao without study. The subtlety of the One Truth (the pure and real substance of the Dao) shows itself plainly: those who do not understand it find it as distant as heaven and earth, while those who do understand know that it never departs from what is before their eyes. The Highest Perfected (Shangzhen, the realized ones who have attained the Dao) took compassion on the people of the world and passed down the fundamental principles to save all beings. In establishing their teachings and handing down their words, they used language to explain the principles as fully as they could, yet the deeper meaning of those principles still dwells beyond the words.

The Yellow Emperor's Yinfu Jing (Scripture of the Hidden Talisman) runs to just over three hundred characters. It points directly to the human heart and mind, urging people to observe closely the Dao of Heaven and the Dao of humanity and to grasp how the two accord with each other. Hence the scripture says: "Observe the Dao of Heaven, and follow its course of operation," and with this the essential point is already fully stated.

I have read the commentaries of later writers, and they often rely on forced and far-fetched readings without inquiring into the scripture's central purpose. Others split apart the meaning of earlier and later passages, dividing the text into arbitrary sections and interpreting it at will, so that their accounts ramble without limit and leave students with nothing to follow. Overestimating my own abilities, I have ventured to attempt an explanation of my own. I do not presume to use the teachings of the sages to show off my views; it was only after receiving a single word of guidance from a Perfected Person (zhiren) that I dared to...

The Commentary on the Yellow Emperor's Yinfu Jing was annotated by Ren Zhaoyi, a Daoist of Suide Garrison.

"Yin" means the dim and hidden, the subtle and concealed; "fu" means to join, to match, to accord. The Dao of Heaven is plain and manifest, displaying vast principles; yet although human beings can reach the wonder of the subtle, they do not necessarily know it themselves. For this reason the Yellow Emperor composed the Yinfu Jing (Scripture of the Hidden Accord), setting forth the principle by which the Way of Heaven and the Way of Humanity secretly accord with one another. Hence it is called the Yinfu.

"Observe the Dao of Heaven and grasp its workings, and all is complete."

Heaven revolves above, Earth bears all below, and the sage stands between them. Heaven, Earth, and humanity together are called the "Three Powers" (sancai), and they share a mutually penetrating influence. Therefore the Yinfu Jing opens by saying: "Observe the Dao of Heaven and grasp its workings, and all is complete." To observe is to see the patterns clearly; to grasp is to take hold of them and put them into practice. The scripture runs to a little over three hundred characters, and from beginning to end it clarifies the course of the Dao of Heaven from its start to its close, along with the principle of movement, stillness, and transformation. Only when a practitioner grasps and carries out these principles can they comprehend the essential meaning of cultivating the Dao.

The Dao of Heaven cannot be seen unless it is observed, and the Way of Humanity cannot be understood unless it is closely examined. The Way of Humanity and the Dao of Heaven issue from one Qi (vital energy), the fundamental breath that composes Heaven, Earth, and all things, and for this reason the path of cultivation secretly accords with the Dao of Heaven. The essential point is to seek the root within the text, to perceive the subtle, to grasp the profound, to pursue the right path and cast out distorted thoughts, and to accomplish one's aims by drawing on the regular motions of the sun and moon, until one becomes a spirit-person (shenren), an extraordinary being who has attained the Dao. This is the process of entering the realm of the profound through penetrating the subtle: when the subtle reaches its limit, one becomes one with the Dao; when the profound reaches its limit, one communes with Shen (spirit). The Zhuangzi says: "One who is united with all things keeps company with Heaven; one who is not united with all things keeps company with other people." From this we know that the laws of Heaven and my own laws are not different, and what difference is there between the Way I walk and the Dao of Heaven? This must not go unexamined.

"Heaven has five 'thieves'; those who perceive them will flourish." These five forces, which drive change and bring about the arising, perishing, and transformation of all things, also exist within the heart-mind and operate in accordance with the Dao of Heaven.

The universe seems to rest in one's hand, and the transformations of all things seem to arise from one's own body.

The Way of Heaven (Dao, 道) harbors no intention of harming people; harm usually arises because people fail to notice what is happening. The qi (气) of the Five Phases (五行, Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) sometimes generates and accords with one another, and sometimes opposes and overcomes one another. When it runs counter and overcomes, it plunders and damages the myriad things like a thief. Practitioners must therefore observe with focused attention, so that these five forces are turned to their own use. Heaven and Earth can cause the myriad things to grow, and can equally cause them to perish; in the creation and transformation of all things, nothing stands apart from the working of the Five Phases.

The Five Phases are formed from the dispersal and transformation of Yin-Yang (阴阳) qi. Yin-Yang qi transforms into the five stars, and the qi of the five stars transforms into the Five Phases. The qi of the Five Phases spreads out to become the myriad things, and the qi of the myriad things condenses into the five flavors. The qi of the five flavors in turn transforms into "True Unity" (真一, Zhenyi), the primal, pure qi that returns to the root. When True Unity disperses, five seeds of vitality sprout and go on to form five fundamental roots; with these the Five Phases are complete, and so too are the five viscera. The five viscera of a person correspond to Heaven and Earth and likewise contain the Five Phases.

When the qi of the Five Phases of Heaven and Earth enters the belly, the five viscera nonetheless wear down day by day and weaken month by month. Moreover, a person's life (命) changes with the turning of the four seasons, and the body is eroded and depleted by cold and heat. If a single organ is damaged, illness may result; if all five viscera decline, how can life be sustained?

From this we can see that the five stars in the heavens sometimes move forward and sometimes retrograde, and their changes affect the myriad things, harming or destroying them. Those who perceive these changes can pursue benefit and avoid harm. Those skilled at observation also understand that people live by the Five Phases, the five grains, and the five flavors, and may likewise be harmed or killed by these same factors. The qi of the five grains comes from the harmonious qi of Heaven and Earth in union, and from the nourishment of the earth. If one eats in accord with the seasons, one can draw in the essential qi (精气) of food and return it to nourish oneself: upward it feeds the Niwan (泥丸, in Daoist teaching the upper Dantian (丹田) in the head), and downward it fills the bone marrow.

If people understand how to return to the origin and go back to the source, so that their cultivation accords with their life, they can be free of the troubles caused by the Five Phases overcoming one another, keeping the five viscera full and slow to decline. Even as the five forces move and change between Heaven and Earth, I can observe them with the heart-mind, gather them in, and put them to use, turning them into my own possession. In this way, the vast cosmos seems to lie within one's grasp, and the transformations of all things are absorbed into the Dao one cultivates.

The nature of Heaven is embodied in the human person, and the human heart-mind (xin) is the pivot from which transformation arises. Only when the Way of Heaven is established can human beings find stability.

When a person fully realizes their own nature, they become united with Heaven; by observing the Way of Heaven, they come to comprehend the Dao (the Way). The Dao comes into being together with the myriad things, and all are fused into a single whole without confusion or division. People are born with simplicity and sincerity, and this is their nature; to restore one's nature is to abide in that simplicity. From this we know that Heaven has a nature, and this nature is continuous with the human; the human has a heart-mind, and the pivot of transformation contained within it corresponds to Heaven.

Thus, the human being, endowed with spiritual intelligence, is fundamentally in communion with the Way of Heaven. Heart-mind and nature accord with one another, and the principles by which they operate echo one another, for their source is one. The Dao penetrates all things, and nature returns to the purity of the One, which is the root of Heaven and Earth and the origin of the "Three Powers" (sancai): Heaven, Earth, and Humanity. Heaven attains the One and becomes clear; Earth attains the One and becomes tranquil; the human attains the One and becomes numinous and luminous. Therefore the nature of Heaven is continuous with the human, and the nature of the human is continuous with Heaven. The pivot of transformation arises from a single heart-mind, and so the human heart-mind responds to the mechanism of Heaven, and the heart-mind of Heaven likewise responds to the human heart-mind.

Since heart-mind and nature are continuous, human action can accord with the mechanism of Heaven. The mechanism of Heaven is the heart-mind of Heaven; the profound principle concealed within "chaos" (hundun, the state before Heaven and Earth divided and before the myriad things appeared) corresponds to the human heart-mind. To observe the heart-mind with the heart-mind is to be in accord with the Dao: the mechanism of Heaven is the same as my heart-mind, and my nature accords with the mechanism of Heaven. Thus the Way of Heaven and the Way of Humanity share a single root and a single source; Heaven and humanity are not opposed to one another. When the scripture (Jing) says, "Establish the Way of Heaven, and humanity will be made secure," this is precisely what it means.

"When Heaven unleashes the killing mechanism, dragons and serpents rise upon the land" (when the Way of Heaven sets in motion its austere, killing force, the hidden dragons and serpents emerge upon the earth). If a human being sets in motion the killing mechanism, Heaven and Earth will likewise reverse and change in response. When Heaven and humanity set transformation in motion together, they lay the foundation for the ten thousand transformations.

The Way of Heaven is by nature pure Yang, yet it takes Yin energy as the occasion for bringing destruction to the myriad things. The Way of Humanity stands between Yin and Yang, yet it takes Yang energy as the occasion for setting transformation in motion. Thus spring's growth and autumn's severity are both expressions of the great Dao (the Way) as it moves through heaven and earth: when Yang energy returns, the myriad things gradually sprout; when Yin energy rises, they gradually mature.

Dragons and serpents are spirited creatures belonging to Yin. In the fifth month, at the Gou hexagram (the hexagram in which Yin energy first emerges), a single line of Yin energy has only just appeared, and dragons and serpents ride upon it, leaping up out of the earth. Here the Way of Heaven reveals its occasion for destruction, and from this point it begins.

The Way of Humanity takes the preservation of life as its aim: pure Yang is the immortal, and pure Yin is the ghost. Those who are skilled at nurturing life can borrow the opportunity offered by the seasons. In the eleventh month, at the Fu hexagram (the hexagram in which a single Yang line is born), they seize the vitality of that moment to set inner transformation in motion. They refine and cast out the Yin dregs (the parts of body and mind regarded as turbid and Yin in nature), and sweep away the corpse-spirits and Po souls (the stagnant, turbid energies that, in cultivation thought, hinder the purification of life).

Therefore, when it is said that the Way of heaven and earth reverses, this is because the Way of Heaven and the Way of Humanity employ Yin-Yang differently, yet share the same principle in their use of opportune moments and change. The Way of Heaven sets change in motion when Yin energy begins to recede, thereby establishing the root of all transformations; the Way of Humanity sets change in motion when Yang energy begins to return, and likewise establishes the root of all transformations. This is the principle by which the Way of Heaven and the Way of Humanity together initiate change and lay their foundations.

People's natures differ, some being clever and some slow, but all can be hidden away and held in reserve.

When ingenuity is displayed too openly, it disturbs the human heart; when one clings only to clumsiness, it obscures one's inborn nature. This is how the worldly understand the workings of skill and clumsiness. The nature of the sage is different: the sage may be quick-witted without revealing any sharpness, and may be simple and plain without losing their original nature. They do not rush about in affairs that run against the Dao (the Way); their actions always accord with the workings of Heaven, and everything is held within and left unrevealed.

The Way of Heaven knows nothing of what the world calls skill or clumsiness, yet it runs on for all time. This is because its nature never changes: it constantly abides in emptiness, stillness, and quiet, follows the course of naturalness, and lets the myriad things transform themselves through imperceptible change. Thus Heaven possesses supreme beauty yet does not speak of it. This is the principle by which the Way of Heaven displays neither skill nor clumsiness.

From ancient times, the realized adepts who attained the Dao (those who succeeded in cultivation) have secretly followed the Way of Heaven and accorded with naturalness. The sages rely on the Dao to nurture the myriad things and do not act through personal cleverness. Outwardly, they gather in their traces and conceal their schemes; inwardly, they clear their thoughts and settle their feelings. The Daojing (Jing, scripture) says: "I have the heart of a fool, pure and unmixed." Confucius likewise said: "I lectured to Yan Hui all day long; he never contradicted me and never raised an objection, as if he were dull." When the inner workings of Heaven are not displayed outwardly, and the heart silently joins with the Dao, this is called great wisdom. If students of the Dao can penetrate this great wisdom and share in the De (Virtue) of Heaven, they can rely on the transforming nurture of the Dao. Why, then, cling to worldly skill and clumsiness, imagining that these can bring one into accord with the principle of Heaven?

Therefore the sage embraces the One (the root of the Dao), holds to it without losing it, and does not disturb their own Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy). The sage understands that a nature kept hidden and guarded within accords precisely with the Way of naturalness. Alas, people of the world so often chase outward, worried that others do not know them or see them, and so they lose their nature and scatter their Shen (spirit), letting the mind run loose and throwing their aspirations into disorder. This is failing to understand the principle of holding within and guarding what is inward. The scripture says: "Great skill seems like clumsiness." True skill springs from one's nature, yet in action appears plain and unadorned, devoting itself wholly to guarding the center.

The nine apertures (the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and other openings of the human body) invite disturbance by evil influences, and the crux lies in the "three essentials" (usually understood as the ears, eyes, and mouth, the key sense organs); a person can regulate their activity, making them move or rest as needed.

When external things tempt a person, the heart-mind is moved to delight by them. The ears, eyes, mouth, and nose are the gateways through which the Shen (spirit), meaning a person's spirit and inner luminous awareness, manifests itself. One must guard the heart-mind with care and restrain its responses to outside things: do not take pleasure in contact with them, and do not let them pull you along. In this way one accords with the Dao (the Way) of Heaven and rests at ease in oneself. Why labor body and mind by making external things the center of life?

Thus the nine orifices (the sensory openings, including the ears, eyes, mouth, and nose) are disturbed by deviant qi (vital energy), and the root of this lies in the movement and stillness of the heart-mind and nature, and in the mixing of deviant thoughts with upright ones. When the heart-mind's thoughts are not upright, nature turns into emotion; emotion is the function of the heart-mind. Therefore the heart-mind governs change and activity, while nature returns to tranquility. When the heart-mind stirs, nature turns into emotion, and thoughts become tangled and ever-changing, hard to still. When the heart-mind is tranquil, emotion returns to nature, and the original heart-mind remains constant and single-pointed, not easily moved by delusion. When heart-mind and nature are mingled, deviant and upright thoughts cross and interweave.

Therefore, those who seek the Dao must understand three keys: the heart-mind is the key to movement and stillness, emotion is the key to the disturbance of one's nature, and nature is the key to resting in the Dao. Understanding these three, one will not lose one's nature, and can restore it and return to simple sincerity. Thus joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure cannot disturb the heart-mind. Even when the heart-mind does stir, one should begin from the key of stilling it; emotion disturbs nature, while nature lets a person rest in the Dao. Understanding these three, one will not lose one's nature, and can restore it and return to simple sincerity. In this way, even if thoughts arise naturally, one does not lose the constancy and single-pointedness of the original heart-mind, and external things cannot pull one along. Able to hold to stillness, one can keep to purity and self-possession, undeceived by the myriad changes. Therefore, those who seek the Dao must carefully examine the key to the movement and stillness of thoughts.

Fire is born from within wood, and once disaster breaks out, it is often unstoppable. Treachery grows within a state, and when the moment comes for it to strike, the state collapses. One who understands these principles and cultivates accordingly is called a sage.

Those who understand the principles of things grasp the key point and pass it on to later generations. It contains the principle of enriching a country and bringing peace to its people, and it can equally serve as a guide for conducting oneself in the world and cultivating the self.

A person has thoughts and intentions. If the heart-fire (a metaphor for restless, indulgent thoughts) is lured by wicked thoughts, it will consume one's Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy). It is like fire hidden inside wood: once the fire flares up, the wood is burned away. The key lies in cultivating body and mind and restraining wicked thoughts, so that one can reach the Dao (the Way) of the spirits.

Wood is a Yin thing, yet within Yin there is Yang, just as fire lies hidden in wood. When the Yin wood has burned to nothing and the fire in the ashes has gone out, how could one possibly endure it? Therefore the sages established methods of self-cultivation that compare the human body to a state. The body contains the very substance of the Dao and is bound up with life and death. The Daodejing (Dao De Jing) says: "The reason I have great trouble is that I have a body." The body is thus like a state: the chest and abdomen are like the palace halls, the four limbs like the outlying lands and borders, and the joints like the hundred officials. Shen (spirit) is like the ruler, blood like the ministers, and Qi like the common people. To keep a state at peace, one must treasure Qi; to keep the body whole, one must likewise nourish and protect Qi.

The "treacherous elements" within the body are the nine orifices (the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and other openings that sense the outside world), which easily become gateways for the invasion of pathogenic qi, and the Three Worms (the parasitic spirits that Daoism holds to dwell in the body and harm body and mind), which, like demons of the six desires, tempt the heart and stir up all manner of emotions and cravings. They are bound up with one another and become internal troubles that throw into disorder the "state" of body and mind.

The body is compared to a state because the human body also embodies the forms of all things. From within, the body responds to the Qi of the True One (the Daoist term for the primordial source of Qi), and by it nourishes the hundred bones and joints, so that nature and life may be preserved. If the heart-fire is not restrained, the Qi of the True One will be dissipated, the corpse-soul (the Yin soul in Daoist thought, tied to the physical body) and wicked thoughts will multiply, and one's lifespan will be exhausted. At that point the body is like a state on the verge of collapse, ruined by the slightest disturbance.

Therefore the key lies in suppressing the heart-fire, cultivating oneself and clearing away Yin turbidity, guarding against trouble before it arises and treating illness before it breaks out. One should apply oneself to practice before calamity begins, letting the Shen be at peace and the mind be still, so that one's nature becomes naturally clear and tranquil and desires subside of their own accord. Is this not the principle of applying the understanding gained through cultivation to enriching the state and bringing peace to the people?

Heaven causes the myriad things to be born and also causes them to die; this is the law of the Dao. Heaven and Earth draw upon the myriad things, the myriad things draw upon humans, and humans in turn draw upon the myriad things. When these three relationships of mutual drawing are well harmonized, the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and Humanity can each settle in their proper place.

Of all the people in the world, none escape being lured by the myriad things, and so they wear down their own lives. What is called "Heaven gives life and Heaven takes life" refers to the very pattern by which the Dao (the Way) operates.

What matters is that a practitioner of the Dao should reverse this process: draw on the essence of the myriad things to replenish what the body has lost, and hold fast to the constant Dao. In this way De (Virtue/Power) becomes complete, and Shen (spirit) settles naturally into stillness. The primordial One Qi (vital energy; the fundamental energy of the cosmos before differentiation) holds spiritual potency within it and rests in an undivided chaos, which is why Heaven, Earth, and humanity, the Three Powers, all emerge from a single source. Once the Dao divides, the Three Powers each become manifest, and each preserves its own share of primordial Qi. Heaven belongs to Yang and Earth to Yin. As Yin-Yang alternate, the myriad things are born, and by the same process they perish. This is the principle of "Heaven gives life and Heaven takes life."

Heaven and Earth nurture the myriad things through the transformations of Yin-Yang. These transformations continue without end, so that things sometimes gather and sometimes disperse. The myriad things therefore have no fixed and unchanging form, while the Dao runs through all of the change. The Zhuangzi says: "Among the myriad things there is no absolute completion or destruction; in the end all return to one body." From this we can see that Heaven and Earth rely on the mechanism of Yin-Yang's cyclical change to bring things into being and to disperse them. This is what is meant by "Heaven and Earth are the thieves of the myriad things."

Among the myriad things, the most spiritually endowed is the human being. Humanity stands alongside Heaven and Earth as one of the Three Powers, likewise rooted in the One Qi and sharing in Heaven's virtue, and so humans too draw upon the myriad things. The myriad things are available for human use and meet human needs. At the same time, their transformations pull at and wear down human nature and life, so the myriad things can also become humanity's "thief." In other words, people take from the myriad things to sustain their lives, yet the changes in those things also carry people toward decline and death, while Heaven and Earth set the myriad things in transformation until they finally return to their root. These three kinds of "theft," by Heaven and Earth, the myriad things, and humanity, answer to one another. Through them the Three Powers each find their proper place, and the course of creation, from root to branch, does not fall into disorder.

When one eats and drinks in keeping with the seasons, every part of the body is brought into harmony. When one grasps the key to following change, the transformations of the myriad things are likewise brought to rest.

Since the practitioner knows that the essence of food can be drawn upon to nourish and replenish one's own primordial Qi (vital energy), the key lies in eating at the proper times; by setting the mechanism of cultivation in motion in this way, one comes into accord with the movement of nature. Food is the distilled essence of the five grains, and the grains are able to sustain a person because they derive from the Qi born of the union of Heaven and Earth and from the nourishment of the land. When one eats at the proper times, food enriches the five viscera, circulates throughout the body, and moistens the skin and flesh. This is the root of not going against the natural processes of generation and transformation.

Therefore, one should follow the rhythm of the sun's and moon's movements so that the Qi within the body is transformed into the True Water of the Supreme Unity (Taiyi zhenshui, the term used in Neidan (internal alchemy) for the body's fluids), which rises and penetrates the Spiritual Source (lingyuan, the spiritual aperture of the head). The key here is nurturing. The fluid beneath the tongue flows into the lungs and becomes saliva; saliva is pure white and symbolizes Metal, which the Fire of the heart overcomes. When the fluid flows into the heart, it becomes blood; blood is red and symbolizes Fire, which the Water of the kidneys overcomes. When the fluid flows into the kidneys, it becomes Jing (essence); Jing belongs to Water, which the Earth of the spleen overcomes. The Jing then returns to the Niwan (the "mud pill," a Neidan term for the region of the head), where it turns yellow and is called the Yellow Sprout. It then flows into the cauldron (a term from alchemy for the part of the body in which refinement and cultivation take place), where it is simmered into White Snow and then refined into Blue-Green Metal. It also passes into the heart, washing the blood of the heart, and then flows to the Sea of Qi (the region of the Dantian, or energy center), spreading throughout the body to nourish the bone marrow.

From this we understand that when the Water-Qi is abundant, the Earth-Qi flourishes; when the Earth-Qi flourishes, the blood grows strong; when the blood is strong, the Jing is replete; and when the Jing is replete, the brain is full. This is the principle of "returning the Jing to nourish the brain," and here too the key lies in eating at the proper times.

People recognize the working of the numinous and wondrous, yet they do not know why things that seem ordinary and belong to Wuwei (non-action) can also give rise to such wondrous effects.

That which is so profound and deep that it has no form is Shen (spirit). That which accords with the original substance of nature is nature itself (xing, 性). That which responds to external things as circumstances change is emotion (qing, 情). Shen and nature are therefore fundamentally one, whereas emotion and nature are two different functions.

Those who know only that emotion is one expression of nature often assume that Shen resides in external things or in other beings. They do not realize that they inherently possess spiritual illumination and are able to put it to use. Those who understand that nature can penetrate the profound and formless realm know that the working of Shen lies within themselves, and that there is no need to rely on any external deity.

Thus, those who study the Dao (the Way) and wish to preserve their spirit and reach through to Xing and Ming (nature and life, the two aspects of dual cultivation of nature and life) must know the root of both. Life is the foundation of nature, and nature is the base of life. Jing (essence) is the mother of Shen, and Shen is the child of Jing. When Jing and Qi (vital energy) are abundant, Shen flourishes; when one fully realizes one's nature, one can reach the source of life.

When the spirit and emotions are calm, nature is clear and still. When nature is clear and still, the mind is at peace. When the mind is at peace, one can hold fast to the Dao in its simple, unadulterated purity and not lose union with Shen. When one is able to unite with Shen, Jing never departs from the body, and Shen never departs from Qi (the Daoist term for the vital energy of life). When Shen and Qi are joined, the body is preserved, and one can reach a function unbound by place or direction. From this one understands that the wondrous, formless spiritual illumination has always been within oneself, not in external things or in other beings.

The sun and moon move according to fixed measures, and changes great and small each follow fixed principles. From this the accomplishment cultivated by the sage becomes manifest, and from this the working of spiritual illumination arises.

The sun belongs to Yang and the moon to Yin, and the transformations of Yin-Yang are the Dao (the Way) as it manifests in actual operation. The Dao follows the laws of nature, so the sun and moon move in fixed rhythms, and each has its own determinate range of size. The greatest of all things is Heaven and Earth, and even the smallest does not fall outside the human and the myriad things.

Though human beings are small, they are endowed with spiritual intelligence, which communicates with the nature Heaven bestows, and the principles by which they function accord with those of Heaven and Earth. For this reason, a person can grasp the root of the great Dao from small things; cultivation practice is established on this basis, and spiritual illumination then becomes manifest. At birth, a person's Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) are received from Heaven's One (here meaning the source from which the Dao generates all things), and become the root of wisdom. Shen (spirit) is obtained from Heaven's Five (here meaning the power by which the Dao produces change and transformation), and becomes the foundation of one's inborn nature. When cultivation reaches its utmost, one can penetrate the numinous and return to one's heavenly destiny. From this we know that although human beings are finite, they can still look up in admiration to the vastness of Heaven and Earth; and once cultivation is accomplished, one can comprehend the rhythms of the sun and moon and bring spiritual illumination to light.

The transmitted writings say: "Learning begins with becoming a scholar and may ultimately lead to becoming a sage." Those who study the arts of the Dao must understand the rhythms of the sun and moon, and must also discern the respective ranges of the great and the small. In one day and night, Heaven's course covers 365 degrees and carries the sun and moon along with it. The sun moves more slowly, advancing about one degree per day and night; the moon moves more quickly, advancing about twelve degrees per day and night. The sun completes one circuit of the heavens in a year, the moon in a month. A day is divided into twelve double-hours, six belonging to Yang and six to Yin. Heaven descends and Earth ascends, and they unite once each day. Five days symbolize one Yuan Qi (primordial original energy), and a month of 360 double-hours symbolizes the days and hours of the fire phasing of a full year of cultivation. The sun and moon meet in conjunction each month, uniting once every fifteen days; the moon disappears at month's end and reappears on the first, cycling on through day and night in this way.

When sagely work is established, the myriad things grow from it; when spiritual illumination becomes manifest, the myriad things are transformed by it. Therefore the sages modeled themselves on Heaven and Earth, using one month of practice to imitate the fire phasing of a year of Heaven and Earth, and so established sagely work. The scripture (Jing) says: "Thirty spokes share one hub." Here the image of thirty spokes converging on the hub of a wheel is borrowed to show that a month has three decades: the two decades at the beginning and end of the month employ the martial fire (a stronger, more active phase of cultivation), while the middle decade, when the moon is full and bright, employs the civil fire (a gentler, more even phase of cultivation). Hence it is said: "Use martial fire at the beginning and end, and civil fire in the middle." It is also said: "For the medicine to be completed, one must take the moon as teacher," meaning that the accomplishment of cultivation must follow the waxing and waning of the moon; and "Soaring high with the sun and moon, I ascend the Way," which means that one who cultivates the Dao must embody the laws by which the sun and moon move.

The High Perfected and Supreme Sages (realized persons and sages who have attained the Dao) observed the waxing and waning of the heavenly Dao and followed the rhythms of the sun and moon, admiring the vastness of Heaven and Earth from what is small, communing with the Dao of Heaven, and thereby grasping the root of the great Dao. From this we know that the Dao has no absolute distinction between great and small. The Zhuangzi says: "Those who are united with the One are companions of Heaven; those who are not united with the One are companions of humans." The so-called difference between great and small refers to the division between Heaven and humanity; in the end, what matters is whether one is united with the great Dao.

The "stealing" of the Dao's hidden mechanism (ji, the crucial secret) is something that everyone under heaven can see, yet few truly understand. When the noble person obtains it, they preserve their own life; when the petty person obtains it, they hold their own life lightly.

When the Yellow Emperor heard the words of the Perfected Man (Huangren, the immortal who transmitted the teachings), he understood that cultivating the Dao in order to sustain life must begin from the root of life itself. These words speak directly of the hidden mechanism of the Dao. The arts of strengthening troops and securing victory, as described by men of penetrating insight, rest on this same principle.

If someone grasps this hidden mechanism, the key lies in preserving the self, never indulging desire or treating life lightly. The Baopuzi (Master Who Embraces Simplicity, the Daoist work by Ge Hong) says that one who uses this method well can make the breath move in reverse and rise to nourish the brain. The affairs are visible while the principle remains subtle. Hence everyone under heaven can see the affairs without necessarily grasping the principle within them. Some principles may be taken up, while certain outward practices should be set aside, and people under heaven often do not know this. The principle that can be taken up cannot be obtained through outward methods alone; one must enter through the Dao (the Way). Therefore, one who uses the hidden mechanism well may let others follow the method while not letting them easily grasp its principle. If one stops at superficial understanding, the harmonious qi (Qi, vital energy) of balanced blending, the chonghe zhi qi, cannot descend. Using the mechanism depends on secrecy, so that matters proceed smoothly, and for this reason the noble person preserves their own life. The petty person, who sees only the surface and follows the method, often fails to preserve themselves. Instead they suffer loss, hold life lightly, and in the end fall into hardship or dissipation. As for the art of securing victory, its principle is concealed and its hidden mechanism profound, so the commentator is reluctant to elaborate at length. By studying the Taiyi gu ming jindan jingjue (Instructions on the Scripture of the Golden Elixir for Securing Life, from the Supreme Unity), one can learn the details.

The blind hear keenly, and the deaf see sharply. Cut off the pursuit of external gain and concentrate on a single source, and the result surpasses ordinary methods tenfold. Practice repeatedly three times, day and night, and the result surpasses ordinary methods ten thousandfold.

"Shi" (师, model) means an exemplar, and "fan" (范, standard) means a rule or norm. What is called uprightness is the constant, unchanging principle of the Great Dao (the Way). Holding to this upright Way allows one to respond to ten thousand changes without being swept along by them. This is what it means to take the heart-mind as one's teacher and to guard the original, upright Way.

For this reason, people of antiquity who understood the principles of things and grasped the right moment passed these teachings on to later generations. They said that the immortals of high antiquity possessed the way of "embracing the One" (baoyi, 抱一: a practice of guarding the original source and remaining single-minded without scattering), and that its principle lies precisely here. The blind, whose sight is poor, concentrate on hearing; the deaf, whose hearing is poor, concentrate on seeing. Because each gathers the faculty of hearing or sight into a single focus, their perception when observing things may be ten times keener than that of ordinary people. This is because they can take the heart-mind as their teacher and fix their attention on one fundamental point.

The blind and the deaf merely have a sense obstructed, with the inner and outer worlds partly cut off from each other, and yet they can gain something by concentrating on a single channel. How much greater, then, should be the attainment of those who cultivate the Dao, who practice repeatedly day and night, bring seeing and hearing back into stillness and subtlety, devote themselves wholly to guarding the source, and take the heart-mind as their teacher?

Therefore, students of the Dao who wish to embrace their true nature and remain single-minded must, above all, return to the root, for only then can they endure. What is called "returning to the root" is returning to the root of primordial Qi (yuanqi, 元炁: the original energy of life). The Zhuangzi says: "Penetrate the One, and all affairs are complete." That is to say, when one attains oneness, the Shen (spirit) is not scattered; when one embraces the One, one does not depart from the root; and when one guards the One, one is not easily changed. Because there is no scattering, there is oneness; because there is no departing, there is embracing; and because there is no easy change, there is guarding.

The key to guarding the One is not to let the heart-mind run loose or scatter. In this way, one's temperament naturally becomes calm, the Shen settles into peace, De (Virtue) is preserved intact, and the Dao gathers within body and mind.

It is said that the way of embracing the One, as practiced by the immortals, began when the Yellow Emperor met the Perfected Huang. The Yellow Emperor asked, "I have heard of a principle called 'the Spirit of the True One.' Can you tell me about it?" The Perfected was greatly startled and said, "You dwell in the human world. How could you have heard of this?" This passage is included in the opening chapter of the Shanghuang Zhulu (上皇主录). The author says that, for fear of excessive length, he has not annotated it line by line; readers may consult the Perfected Huang's Sanyi Tujing (三一图经, Illustrated Scripture of the Three Ones) to learn the specifics of embracing the One and guarding the Dao.

Thoughts arise because of external things, and they can also fade through attachment to external things; the key lies in the function of the eyes.

A practitioner who has already trained in the method of "embracing the genuine and guarding the One" (baozhen shouyi, that is, preserving one's true nature and keeping the mind and spirit undivided) may still give rise to stray thoughts and cling to outer things. In that case, the practitioner should rely on the function of the eyes to restrain these thoughts. The heart-mind is the master of the whole body and the commander of the hundred spirits; the expenditure of Shen (spirit) and the toil of deliberation all depend on its activity. For this reason, once the heart-mind stirs, it is easily deluded by external things and easily attached to its own ideas. When heart-mind and eyes work together, feelings and nature likewise come to accept some things and reject others.

When the heart-mind is drawn along by external things, it falls into attachment to them. Once attachment arises, the source of the heart-mind can no longer be unified, and both Shen and one's inborn nature are disturbed. How, then, could one gain any added benefit? Therefore, those who are skilled in cultivating the Dao (the Way), the moment they notice the heart-mind has become attached, use the working of the eyes to rein in their thoughts, so that the many stray thoughts disperse of their own accord. When you wish the thoughts to disperse, do not deliberately check whether you are still attached. Simply be like an infant, eyes dimly open and gazing toward the east, so that Shen is not dissipated outward, and the heart-mind becomes clean and clear.

An old poem says: "Blood spatters from the head of the beard; the eyes are like rings." This speaks of using the working of the eyes to dispel the heart-mind's attachment to external things. A Daoist scripture (Jing) says: "Be good at storing away, and do not let it depart." This speaks of the heart-mind being clean and clear. The scripture also says: "Be good at closing, and though there is no bolt, it cannot be opened." This means that the heart-mind grows still and no longer clings to external things.

Heaven seems to show no favoritism, yet from this it brings forth vast kindness. When thunder suddenly crashes and fierce winds rage, the myriad things are all startled into motion.

Heaven and Earth wield the greatest power in both bestowing grace and displaying awe, yet the heart that can receive that grace is most conspicuously found in human beings. Heaven sends down balanced and pure Qi (vital energy) to nourish people, and it never shows favoritism toward any individual. Heaven is impartial because its grace is vast, reaching all things; it only hopes that people will take joy in doing good, and so reach the truth and enter the realm of the sages. As the scripture (Jing) says: "August Heaven has no close kin and no favorites; it helps only the good." This shows that the Dao (the Way) likewise makes no distinction between near and distant, or between liking and disliking. Yet when a person is able to reach the Dao, the Dao naturally communicates with that person in return.

Only those who have attained the highest realm can receive Heaven's great grace and keep company with Heaven. Even when the Way of Heaven stirs up dark, deadly chill and displays a power like crashing thunder and fierce wind, such people remain calm and composed, with no look of fear. For this reason, they are able to draw in their outward seeing and hearing and settle the heart within. At this point the original text repeats, once more, the passage from "receiving Heaven's grace and keeping company with Heaven" through to "calm and without fear."

The highest joy comes from the fullness of one's inborn nature; when stillness is carried to its utmost, the heart becomes upright and free of desire.

Emptiness and stillness, undisturbed by external things, are the very substance of the Dao. The ancients who embodied the Dao made inner cultivation their chief task. They did not take mastery of outward things as their pleasure, but rested in the joy of their own nature. Resting in one's nature is not a matter of deliberate pursuit; it is simply returning to purity and oneness, free of any trace of contrivance, and following what is natural. Therefore, when one delights in one's nature, there is nothing in that nature that is not full; when one is not mixed up with outward things, there is nothing in the heart that is not clear and still. Thus the person who delights in Heaven and understands fate knows no sorrow. When the heart-nature is quiet and fond of plainness, one does not grasp or crave, and the heart does not grow weary. When the heart is not weary, Shen (spirit) is not scattered; when Shen is not scattered, the emotions do not stir recklessly, and one's nature can preserve its supreme joy. This supreme joy comes from wandering in the most beautiful realm and arriving at the place of utmost stillness. It is precisely the effect brought about by purity, stillness, and freedom from desire.

Heaven's actions seem to be extremely partial, yet in practice they are applied with the utmost impartiality.

The Dao of Heaven accepts and embraces good conduct, which may look like partiality. Yet applying the Dao means treating all things alike and taking evenness and rectitude as the standard, and this is the greatest impartiality. Thus, although the Dao of Heaven may lend special support to certain people, it never departs from the Dao. And when the Dao is applied to the point of perfect impartiality, it favors nothing in particular. This is true fairness.

"August Heaven has no kin; it aids only those who have De (Virtue)" means that Heaven does not favor any one person but supports only the virtuous. This shows that the Dao of Heaven helps those with De without thereby departing from the Dao.

In human nature, good and evil are often mixed together. Those who draw near to goodness easily become good; those who draw near to evil easily become evil. This is not because people are originally made so, but because they are shaped by habituation, and over time it settles into a fixed disposition. Therefore, those who study and cultivate the Dao should seek out an enlightened teacher, keep company with good friends, and apply themselves with focused and steadfast effort, so that they may enter the gateway to the Way of the sages and worthies.

So long as Heaven does not reject a person's rightful aspirations, that person's responsiveness can communicate with the higher spirits. The key lies in cleansing the heart, restraining selfish desires, and not losing one's innate mind of the Dao; then the celestial spirits will quietly lend their aid. One's resolve in study and cultivation must never waver. If, in seeking teachers and friends, one meets suitable people, one should treat them with the courtesy due to a teacher. If one does not, one should continue practicing quietly and sincerely. Even when life is comfortable and settled, one must not neglect the study of cultivating nature and life (the dual cultivation of nature and life, Xingming shuangxiu).

"The mastery of birds lies in Qi" means that the key to subduing and controlling birds and beasts lies in Qi (vital energy, the life-breath or dynamic force spoken of in Daoism). The original text does not explain any further how this is to be done.

When the sky is empty and open, qi (vital energy) can rise and float upward; and once qi has risen, birds use their wings to ride its currents and soar to great heights. So those who cultivate learning should keep the heart-mind empty and still, and guard its tranquility; they should keep the breath harmonious and the spirit calm and unburdened. In this way the heart-mind becomes naturally gentle and free of crookedness, and one's temperament becomes naturally quiet and free of confusion.

Shen (spirit) is the child of qi, and qi is the mother of shen. When shen and qi unite, true jing (essence) is not lost; when shen is settled, the body too becomes firm and stable. All of this is the work of qi. Humans have physical bodies, just as the myriad things do; since the body is the same as the myriad things, it is subject to life and death and will in the end be exhausted. The key is this: when qi is strong, shen is complete; when qi is weak, shen also declines.

The scripture (Jing) says: "The way birds ride is through qi." Here the character for "bird" (禽) also carries the sense of "to seize and restrain": by gathering in the heart-mind, one can govern the breath. That birds can fly to great heights is like the presence of qi in the human body; when qi is full and expansive, it seems to fill the Great Void and sustain heaven and earth. When qi is abundant, the body can be lifted up and, through cultivation, become immortal; when qi is weak, shen also declines. When the heart-mind is empty and still, qi can fill the space between heaven and earth, meeting the Dao (the Way) in the realm of emptiness and stillness. The saying "the empty room produces light" means that when the heart-mind is hollow and quiet, brightness naturally appears; from this one can nourish primordial qi and govern the breath. The Mencius says: "I am good at nurturing my flood-like qi, which fills the space between heaven and earth." This shows that Mencius had a profound grasp of the way of nourishing the breath.

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

Creation operates unseen and without pause, and the transformations of Yin-Yang (阴阳) are hard to fathom. Life arises from a wondrous, mysterious function, while death appears as the dissolution of the physical form. What runs through all of this is the single Qi (炁), originating in nature, the fundamental energy from which the myriad things are made. Thus birth is the beginning of creation, and death is the outcome of the changes of Yin-Yang. The myriad things cannot flourish together forever, and this is precisely the principle of the waxing and waning of Yin-Yang.

From this we can see that the myriad things take form through Yin-Yang and are also transformed through it. The Huangdi Yinfu Jing (Yellow Emperor's Scripture of the Hidden Talisman) says: "Heaven causes the myriad things to be born, and also causes them to die; this is the law of the Dao (道, the Way)." The great Dao takes the single Qi as its root and drives the movement of the sun and moon. The sun and moon are the source of Yin-Yang; they respond to and join with one another, disperse their breath, and nurture life. When Yang Qi turns back, the myriad things grow; when Yin Qi returns, they decline and perish. Clearly, the root of both life and death lies in the original source of the Dao, whose presence and concealment seem at once to exist and not to exist.

Human life is likewise governed by the law of life and death, and its root is the single Qi. The Qi of Yin and Yang from one's father and mother join, and a person is born; when the span of the Yin-Yang Qi's movement reaches its limit, the person dies. The key to cultivation lies in using Yang Qi to refine Yin Qi. When the turbid Yin Qi is exhausted and the body of pure Yang is achieved, the single Qi becomes full, and the movement of the Dao flows through naturally. One can then return to the original source, go back to the root, and restore life to its true and genuine state.

Benefit may arise from harm, and harm may also arise from benefit.

People take benevolence and love for a kindness, yet in doing so they invite corresponding harm. Favor and affection arise together; this is the root of how people employ their emotions. Those who study the Dao (the Way) are often held back by favor and affection, so that they stop midway in their practice and abandon it halfway. They begin diligently but end in laxity, which is probably the common condition of ordinary people. Thus people are often harmed by what they themselves take up, and calamity too can spring from favor and affection.

The key lies in truly grasping "the one Qi (vital energy) that connects with the numinous" (the one Qi refers to the fundamental energy that pervades Heaven, Earth, and all things; connecting with the numinous means being in communion with the Dao). In this way one is not disturbed by the myriad misfortunes; when one person attains the Dao, seven generations of ancestors can ascend to Heaven. Those who hold their resolve firm and advance ceaselessly in the Dao will suffer no harm even when favor and affection come upon them. The muddled, however, if they do not rid themselves of the heart of favor and affection, will find that the kindness falls upon the other person while the calamity falls upon themselves.

Therefore, a heart filled with favor and affection is the delusion of worldly people, and prizing honor and disgrace is their greed. Alas, how could sorrow, pain, toil, and injury be the happiness of the people of the world? People follow these emotions without sensing any harm, and it is precisely because favor and affection run deep that deeper roots of calamity are planted. Those who are skilled at cultivating the Dao are different: they take delight in the tranquility of heart and Shen (spirit), and treasure clarity, stillness, and plainness. Through self-cultivation they cleanse their thoughts and settle their intentions. In this way, favor and affection do not entangle others, and calamity does not fall upon themselves.

The foolish consider the patterns and principles between Heaven and Earth to be sagely and enlightened; I hold instead that only discerning the patterns and principles of things in their proper season deserves to be called wisdom.

The goods on which daily life depends and by which life is nourished are also the numinous fluids that assist the practice of the Dao and nurture its root (subtle substances that benefit life-nourishing and Dao cultivation). People differ in worth and folly, and their insight differs in depth. The wisdom of the worthy, then, will not fall short of mine.

The foolish consider the patterns and principles between Heaven and Earth to be sagely and enlightened; I hold instead that only discerning the patterns and principles of things in their proper season deserves to be called wisdom.

The food that sustains our daily lives and nourishes life itself is also the fundamental support for cultivating the Dao (the Way), like a precious spiritual fluid. People differ in wisdom and dullness, and in the depth of their insight and capacity. The wise have lofty views, broad minds, and great aspirations; the dull think shallowly, see little, and speak in coarse, superficial terms. Yet people often fail to realize that the patterns and principles of all things between Heaven and Earth follow the natural order. They have circulated and flowed for countless ages without change, taking constant laws as their foundation.

Foolish people take these constant phenomena for granted and do not observe the rhythms of the seasons or the patterns of things. They use certain things every day without understanding the principles within them. The five grains are what everyone under heaven eats daily. Yet most people seek only to be full, and never investigate the fundamental process by which grain grows from its beginnings to maturity.

The five grains arise by drawing on the creative power of Heaven and Earth, and they ripen by absorbing the harmonious Qi (vital energy) between Heaven and Earth, the gently flowing primal energy. From this we can see that the five grains contain the pure, unified essential Qi of Heaven and Earth. Once they have grown and ripened and a person eats them, they can replenish primal Qi and prolong life. Through digestion in the spleen and stomach, their finest essence is transformed into a spiritual fluid called the "True Water of the Supreme One" (Taiyi zhenshui). The author calls it that which precedes the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), meaning the fundamental substance that exists before the Five Phases come into being. Thus the essential Qi of the five grains is the spiritual fluid of Heaven and Earth, and also an embodiment of the radiance of the sun and moon and the quintessence of the Five Phases. It nourishes life, supplements primal Qi, strengthens the body, extends longevity, preserves the spirit (Shen), and helps a person reach the realm of the sages.

The saying "to grasp the rhythms of the seasons and the patterns of things is to be truly wise" speaks precisely to this principle.