《上阳子金丹大要》Vol. 4

Only after reaching this point can one believe the scripture’s words that “the heavens and the people of the world will all be astonished and perplexed,” and understand why people of inferior capacity laugh when they hear them. Those of superior capacity, on hearing these teachings, therefore practice diligently.

The disciple, reverent and delighted, bowed and asked: “If you say that gold is lead, why also say it is not ordinary lead? If you cite the scripture’s discussion of Jing, Qi, and Shen, why say they are not things within the body? I am fortunate to hear principles I have never heard before, and feel both joy and astonishment. I beg you to guide me from beginning to end and resolve my doubts.”

Shangyangzi said: “The heavenly sequence assigns one to generate Water; this Water symbolizes Qi. Water dwells in the north, and the north corresponds to the Kan position—the Kan trigram of the Bagua (Eight Trigrams), which symbolizes Water. Lead is hidden within Kan, so it is not ordinary lead but true lead: that is, the Qi symbolized by lead. It is therefore not the Qi of breathing.

“What is the essence of gold? The earthly sequence assigns four to generate Metal. Metal originally dwells in the west, and the west corresponds to the Dui position—the Dui trigram of the Bagua, which symbolizes Metal. Gold should be gathered from the Dui position in the due west. But great practitioners take the reverse course: the Metal born before Heaven dwells in the Zi position, which corresponds precisely to Kan. So gold must be gathered from within Kan. This is called the essence of gold, and it is gathered by reversing the usual direction.

“The gold within Kan dwells in the Dui position. The Qian position—the Qian trigram of the Bagua, which symbolizes Heaven—lies between Kan and Dui, so it is called Qian Metal. Great practitioners draw out this Qian Metal and store it in the Golden Chamber—the place where Jing, Qi, and Shen are refined and cultivated in Neidan (internal alchemy). They circulate and regulate the true fire, the work by which Jing and Qi are refined in Neidan, refining it into the essence of gold and then refining it into the Elixir. This is why it is called the Golden Elixir.”

Having understood, the disciple bowed once more and received the teaching with reverence, feeling that what he had heard was so profound it was almost impossible to bear.

May immortals and Buddhas live forever.

The disciple prostrated himself on the ground, then rose and asked, “What, exactly, are immortals and Buddhas?”

Shangyangzi said, “Have you not heard the story of Laozi? Laozi received instruction from the Supreme Primordial Lady, a high-ranking deity revered in Daoism. She said to him, ‘Have you heard of longevity? The practice of longevity lies in the Elixir, and the Elixir is refined through the spirit.’ After receiving this teaching, Laozi practiced diligently and eventually attained realization.

“Later, Cheng Qi asked Laozi about the Dao. Laozi said, ‘In its vastness, the Dao has no bounds; in its smallest details, nothing is left out. It encompasses everything, yet its depths cannot be measured. One who reaches the highest state can fully understand the true nature of all things and hold fast to the root. Such a person is not constrained by Heaven and Earth or burdened by the myriad things, and the spirit is never thereby exhausted.’

“Laozi also said to Nan Rongchu, ‘Can you hold fast to the Dao with single-minded devotion and never lose its root? Can you stop seeking from others and instead turn inward to seek the Dao? Can you remain naturally calm, respond to the myriad things, and stay as simple as an infant? An infant acts without knowing what it means to do and walks without knowing where it is going. Its body is like withered wood, its mind like dead ashes. If you can reach this state, good fortune need not be sought, and misfortune can find no way to trouble you. When neither fortune nor misfortune moves you, what calamity could come from outside?’

“Laozi also said to Confucius, ‘The utmost Yin Qi is deep and still; the utmost Yang Qi is bright and blazing. The still, clear Qi issues from Heaven, and the bright, blazing Qi arises from Earth. The two Qi, Yin and Yang, join and harmonize, and from them the myriad things are born.’

“The True Lead spoken of here is the utmost Yang Qi; True Mercury is the utmost Yin Qi. The great cultivator gathers the True Lead that existed before Heaven and Earth into the Suspended Womb Cauldron, a term in alchemy for the cauldron used to congeal the Elixir in internal practice. The cultivator then combines it with True Mercury and refines them into a single Golden Elixir, which is swallowed into the Golden Chamber, an internal alchemy term for the place within the body where the Elixir embryo is nourished. There it is nurtured into an infant. When the Elixir embryo has matured and cultivation is complete, the practitioner can transform the spirit freely and pass in and out without hindrance, ranging throughout Heaven and Earth without dying or being destroyed. This is called becoming an immortal.

“Indra, a guardian deity in the Buddhist heavens, said to Shakyamuni, ‘All conditioned things are impermanent; they are all subject to arising and ceasing. When arising and ceasing come to an end, peaceful Nirvana is bliss.’ This expresses the principle by which Yin and Yang join and harmonize. Shakyamuni practiced this Way and became a Buddha.”

The Dao cannot be revealed directly through words.

The disciple stepped forward again and asked, “Is the Dao the Way of the Golden Elixir? At first the Dao had no name; it was only in Laozi’s time that it was tentatively called the ‘Dao.’ Yet although Laozi wrote five thousand words, he never explicitly said what the Golden Elixir is. I find this truly puzzling. May I ask why?”

Shangyangzi replied, “It is not that Laozi never spoke of the Golden Elixir; he simply did not mark it out plainly.”

The disciple asked, “What do you mean?”

Shangyangzi said, “Laozi said: ‘Always without desire, one can observe the Dao’s subtlety; always with attentive awareness, one can discern the Dao’s gateways. These two arise from the same place, though they have different names. Both may be called profound and mysterious. Mystery upon mystery is the gateway to countless wonders.’ Laozi also said: ‘There is something formed in wholeness, existing before Heaven and Earth. Silent and vast, it stands alone and does not change; it moves in cycles and never ceases. It can serve as the source of all things under Heaven. I do not know its name, so I call it “Dao”; forced to give it a name, I call it “Great.”’ What later generations call the “Great Dao” refers to this.

“The ancient sages sometimes stated things directly, sometimes explained them through events, sometimes spoke casually, and sometimes conveyed their meaning through allegory. The Way of the Golden Elixir is contained in what they called the ‘Great Dao’: it is lodged beyond words and concealed within them. How could it be stated plainly?”

The disciple said, “Laozi did not speak plainly about the Golden Elixir. For a thousand years before him, no one had openly explained it; for a thousand years after him, words alone could not fully express it. As the age grows ever more shallow and people’s minds grow closed, without your guidance it would surely become harder and harder to hear of the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir.”

Shangyangzi said, “Long ago, when Guangchengzi taught the Yellow Emperor, Guangchengzi said: ‘Guard your mind with care and shut out disturbances from the world. Too much knowledge invites ruin. I will take you above the Great Brightness, to the source of utmost Yang; I will also lead you through the Gate of Mystery and Darkness, to the source of utmost Yin.’ The Yellow Emperor bowed twice and said, ‘The Dao Guangchengzi speaks of is truly lofty!’ The Yellow Emperor cultivated this Dao and later ascended to Heaven on a dragon at Dinghu Lake. Many others continued cultivating it, including Fu Yu, Lu Tuzi, Wucheng, Chaofu, Xu You, Shanjuan, Xize, Zhiyi, Guo Shu, Lao Peng, and Chiyi. Those who lived in seclusion and kept themselves hidden were beyond counting.

“Laozi was like a divine dragon, impossible to grasp. He took the Great Dao as his own charge, and, fearing that it was about to decline, withdrew calmly into seclusion to preserve it. At times he appeared; at times he vanished. He was not someone the world could easily see through.

“Eight generations after it was transmitted from Guanling Yin Xi, Huang Shigong appeared. Five generations later came Heshanggong, and three generations after that came the two perfected ones, Yin and Xu. The perfected master Wei Boyang received the teaching from Perfected Xu, then composed the Cantong qi in accordance with the Book of Changes. He explained the meanings of alchemical terms such as lead, mercury, cinnabar, and silver, and passed this Dao on to Celestial Master Fuyuan. Later, Zhang, Ge, Xu, and Wu achieved success in their cultivation; the lineages of Zhong, Lü, Wang, and Liu arose in turn. Immortals appeared one after another, and their successors left prefaces explaining the Way of the Golden Elixir.

“When the Understanding Reality Treatise by the Perfected Zi-yang of Tiantai appeared, it made the timing and stages of Golden Elixir cultivation clearer still. My teacher Yuanduzi later wrote works such as Questions on the Difficulties of the Golden Elixir and The Shared Source of Immortals and Buddhas, bringing the Way of the Golden Elixir to fuller completion. Yet the world declines day by day, and people are showy and ungrounded. Those of the highest capacity are hard to find; how, then, could one discuss the Great Dao with ordinary people?”

The disciple stepped forward again and asked, “May I ask what ‘shedding the womb’ means in Golden Elixir cultivation?”

Shangyangzi replied, “Its heavenly secret is profound and should not be revealed lightly.”

The disciple said, “If you do not explain it now, I fear the opportunity will pass. An opportunity can be seized, but it must not be missed. Since the right circumstances and season have arrived, if I do not hear it now, I cannot act in step with the moment.”

Shangyangzi said, “Then I will tell you, but you must keep it secret. First, bring together the lead and mercury between Heaven and Earth and place them in the ‘Golden Chamber.’ This is called the ‘Spirit Chamber of the Golden Embryo.’ Then regulate the firing times and carry out the talismanic methods. Only after ten months is the work complete. This is called a man’s pregnancy.”

The disciple asked, “Once the embryo is formed, what must be done next?”

Shangyangzi said, “When the ten months of work are complete, the sacred embryo has taken shape. Then move it to the upper Dantian, the site of Neidan cultivation in the head, and guard and nourish it so that it can grow. After one cycle of two years, it transforms into the Yang Spirit, a spiritual body formed through cultivation that can come and go freely. When the Yang Spirit moves in and out without obstruction, this is called shedding the womb and departing.”

The disciple asked, “Does this mean the physical body will still die and decay?”

Shangyangzi said, “That is difficult to say.”

The disciple asked his teacher for guidance. Shangyangzi said, “When ordinary people hear this, their understanding is often clouded and their views tainted. They assume that once immortals have attained the Dao, they must preserve their physical bodies, live forever without dying, and remain in the human world. That is a worldly notion. The Way of the immortals and the Buddhas is not like that.”

The disciple asked again, “May I ask what the principle behind this is?”

Shangyangzi said, “Having a physical body brings the burdens of body and mind. The immortals cultivate the Dao precisely to free themselves from those burdens. Yet once the Way of the immortals has been attained, nothing is beyond their reach; each may act according to their own wishes.”

Shangyangzi said, “Anyone who has a body is subject to all the troubles that come with it. Immortals cultivate the Dao to escape these troubles. Yet once they have perfected the Immortal Way, their actions are no longer constrained, and they can do as they wish.

“Some immortals ascend bodily in broad daylight. The Yellow Emperor was one. Some live long among people in ease and freedom, like Pengzu. Some receive appointments to serve in the celestial realm, like the Celestial Master (Tianshi). Some disappear and reappear at will, like Lord Huangshi. Some uproot their homes and ascend to heaven with their entire families, like Jingyang. Some appear to fall ill and die, like Chongyang. Some leave the human world through corpse liberation—that is, shedding the body and ascending to immortality—like Ziqing. And some enter the court as officials and help govern worldly affairs, like Dongfang Shuo. Each immortal acts according to their own wishes; they do not all have to live forever and remain in the human world.”

Someone asked, “In that case, ascending to heaven and serving in the celestial realm must be the highest attainment, followed by living long in this world, and then by corpse liberation or appearing to die of illness?”

Shangyangzi replied, “No.”

The other person asked, “Please explain the principle briefly.”

Shangyangzi said, “Have you never heard the story of the Lord of the River? He lived on the banks of the Yellow River, and his reputation reached the court. Emperor Wen of Han went in person by carriage to visit him and said, ‘All under Heaven is the king’s land, and everyone who lives within it is the king’s subject. Among the four great things between Heaven and Earth, the ruler is one. Though you possess the Dao, you are still my subject. Why refuse to humble yourself and meet me? Why behave with such arrogance? I can make people rich and honored, and I can make them poor and lowly.’ As soon as he had spoken, the Lord of the River slowly rose into the air and said, ‘Now I belong neither to Heaven above, nor am I entangled in the human world between, nor do I dwell on the earth below. Whose subject, then, could I be?’ Only then did Emperor Wen understand. He bowed and apologized. The Lord of the River then passed on to him the Chapters and Commentary on the Laozi, a commentary explaining the Laozi, and afterward disappeared without a trace.

“Have you also heard the story of Su’s Causeway? In the Song dynasty, a man named Su Yunqing, as talented as Guan Zhong and Yue Yi, lived in seclusion near Yuzhang, in the area of present-day Nanchang, Jiangxi. Zhang Deyuan recommended him for the post of prime minister, and Emperor Gaozong ordered that he be found. Acting on the emperor’s command, Zhang Deyuan wrote a letter and asked local officials to invite Su in person. When they found him, he was living alone in a thatched hut, supporting himself by growing vegetables and making straw sandals. He received the letter but did not open it. Pretending to accept the appointment at court, he slipped away that night. Early the next morning, the officials came to escort him and found only the unopened letter on the table, beside a poem:

‘For years I’ve lived by ways of my own;

Who could have guessed my name would reach the emperor’s ear?

Some people of this age covet wealth and rank;

Do not let wealth and rank stain Master Su.’

“The poem means: ‘For years I have made my own way of life, never imagining that my reputation would reach the emperor. There are always people in the world who covet wealth and rank; do not let them sully me, Master Su.’ Later, people came to call that place Su’s Causeway.

“A person like Su Yunqing may be compared with Lie Yukou, Yan Ziling, and Fan Li. Have you never heard of Lie Yukou? He lived in the gardens of the state of Zheng for more than forty years, and no one knew who he was. At first, he took Huqiuzi as his teacher. Though he heard the teachings, he did not practice them with steadfastness. Later, he became a disciple of Lao Shangshi and a friend of Baigaozi; they urged one another on with the Dao. He persisted in his practice for nine years and eventually learned to ride the wind.

“Have you never heard of Fan Li? When Fan Li served as prime minister of the state of Yue, he brought about the destruction of Wu in a single campaign. He believed his achievements were too great for him to remain in high office for long, so he sailed away in a small boat across the Five Lakes. The ruler of Qi heard of his ability and invited him to become prime minister. Fan Li again judged that his reputation had grown too great for him to stay long, so he left Qi, changed his name, called himself Tao Zhugong, and planned to build up wealth for his later years. Later, he met Wenzi, a man from Pushang, also known as Jiran, who taught him the Way of long life. Fan Li then said, ‘Wealth is a means to accomplish things. Once the Dao has been perfected, wealth is of no use. Wealth brings benefit, but benefit can also harm people, so it should not be accumulated for long. Rather than storing up riches, would it not be better to enrich oneself?’ He therefore gave away all his wealth, withdrew to cultivate the Dao, and eventually became an immortal.

“There are many people like these, too many to count. Ah, how could ordinary people ever fathom the transformations in the way immortals act?”

The disciple said, “I am grateful for your guidance on the principles of the Golden Elixir (Neidan cultivation). I would like to ask: why did the sages of antiquity establish three teachings? And why do you bring the Three Teachings together and make them one? Does this mean that the Dao is one, or are there three?”

Shangyangzi replied, “There are not two Daos under Heaven. Confucius once said, ‘Zeng Shen, my Dao is threaded through with a single fundamental principle.’ Laozi said that all things come to life through attaining the Dao; the Buddha said that all teachings ultimately return to oneness. This means that the principles of the Three Teachings are one in essence.

The sages did not have different minds. Buddhism speaks of illuminating the mind and seeing one’s nature; Confucianism speaks of rectifying the mind and making one’s intentions sincere; Daoism speaks of purifying the inner mind so that the spirit becomes clear of itself. Though their words differ, they refer to the same mind. Thus, the Dao taught by the Three Teachings ultimately rests in this one mind.

The ‘mind’ spoken of here, however, is not the physical heart inside the body. It is the original mind, centered and upright between Heaven and Earth, and the source of nature and life. The Doctrine of the Mean says, ‘What Heaven endows in human beings is called nature.’ The Song of the Great Dao says, ‘Shen is nature; Qi is life.’ After Bodhidharma came east, he pointed directly to the human mind and enabled people to see their nature. To see one’s nature, as spoken of here, is to recognize the source of nature and life.”

The Song of the Great Dao says, “Shen is nature; Qi is life.” Bodhidharma came from India to China and pointed directly to the human mind, enabling people to see their original nature and become Buddhas. The teachings of the three traditions—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—all require an understanding of human nature and life.

Confucius said, “The union of one Yin and one Yang is the Dao.” Laozi said, “All things bear Yin and embrace Yang.” The Sixth Patriarch also taught, “The sun and moon stand in opposition, as do Yin and Yang.” It is clear that the teachings of all three traditions depend on these two fundamental forces.

Confucius said, “Fulfilling and preserving one’s nature is the gateway to the Way of right conduct.” Laozi said, “The mysterious within the mysterious is the gateway to the many wonders.” Buddhism says, “The supreme truth is the nondual gateway.” This means that although the three traditions have different gateways, they ultimately lead to the same path. Thus, though the teachings are divided into three traditions, there is only one Dao. To claim that there are two fundamental Dao paths would go against the sages’ intention.

People in the three traditions in later generations often recognize only their own teachings, yet cannot enter their inner sanctum. Those who revere Confucius call themselves Confucians. Though they read his books, they do not understand the Dao of nature and life. Those who revere Shakyamuni call themselves Buddhists. Though they bow before the Buddha every day, they do not recognize the true Buddha within themselves. Those who revere Laozi call themselves Daoist practitioners. Though they speak of the Dao all day, they do not understand the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir—the fundamental method of cultivation to which the Golden Elixir points. All these people have the name but not the substance.

Those who champion Confucian learning argue over right and wrong in the past and present and disparage Buddhism and Daoism, yet do not understand what the Dao “that runs through all things as one” means in Confucius’s teaching. Those who champion Buddhist learning fill their mouths with Chan paradoxes and laboriously sit in silent meditation, yet do not understand what Buddhism means by the “Supreme Vehicle,” the highest path of cultivation. Those who practice Daoism exhaust their cinnabar, mercury, and other alchemical materials and try all kinds of unorthodox methods, yet do not understand the Dao of the Return Elixir of Golden Liquids, a Neidan teaching about refining Jing into Qi and forming the Elixir.

One who understands the Dao of the Return Elixir and diligently cultivates it may be called a supreme immortal. One who understands the Way of the One Vehicle and diligently cultivates it may be called a true Buddha. One who understands the Way that runs through all things as one and diligently cultivates it may be called a great sage.

Someone asked, “Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism each have their own methods, yet the principles to which they lead are the same. I have respectfully received your teachings. Still, ‘One Thread,’ ‘One Vehicle,’ and the Golden Elixir seem to describe different Ways. May I ask why they have different names?”

The reply was, “‘One Thread’ is the One Vehicle, the One Vehicle is the Golden Elixir, and the Golden Elixir ultimately returns to ‘the One.’” “One Thread,” “One Vehicle,” and “Golden Elixir” are different expressions that point to the same principle of cultivation.

All people are born endowed with the complete two Qi of Yin and Yang, and therefore have the potential to change. After long periods of transformation, other kinds of beings may also display extraordinary qualities: creatures that live for a long time may become spirits; old pine trees may produce poria mushrooms; fish may transform into dragons; and decaying grass may become fireflies. How much more so, then, for human beings, who possess the greatest spiritual potential of all creatures? If one can steadfastly preserve one’s original nature over time, one is called a true Buddha; if one can preserve one’s spirit over time, one is called an immortal; and if one can transcend the ordinary and enter the sacred realm, one is called a supreme sage. These forms of cultivation all depend on nature and life, remain within Yin-Yang, and take the heart-mind as their foundation. Together, they are called “returning the Elixir through the Golden Liquid” (a Daoist Neidan term for cultivating and refining Jing, Qi, and Shen to return to the source). This means that in the hearts of sages there are not two separate principles.

The text again discusses “One Thread,” “One Vehicle,” and the Golden Elixir, affirming that they all return to the same principle. The “supreme sages and great worthies” have realized profound states and become high-ranking immortals. Their cultivation still takes nature, life, Yin-Yang, and the heart-mind as its foundation, and returns to the Elixir through the Golden Liquid. The principle realized by sages is one and the same.

The highest sages and worthies have realized the state of exalted immortals or attained Buddhahood. To them, the lower realms are no more than a trifling speck. What do fortune and misfortune matter? Why, then, do those who slander Daoism and disparage Buddhism so often seem to suffer retribution? The answer is that this is not so. Having attained the Dao, immortals and Buddhas serve in the heavens or dwell among people. Their shared purpose is to set the world right and rescue it from calamity.

Ordinary people may make offerings of precious treasures, give generously, build temples, ordain monks, copy scriptures, construct pagodas, welcome the Buddha’s relics, and hold rites with chanting and music. None of these acts is necessarily beneficial. Those who criticize are only trying to correct what they believe is wrong; what fault is there in that? But when their words are too harsh, and they have not truly understood the principles involved, they cite events of the past to prove that the present is wrong. In the end, they fail to solve the problem or save the times, and instead invite slander and rumor, eventually receiving punishment. That is only to be expected. Would immortals and Buddhas really concern themselves with such matters?

Later, some monks and Daoist priests saw writings that rejected Buddhism and Daoism and thought they were taking up their cause. How foolish! Confucian scholars read Buddhist and Daoist books but refuse to examine the sound principles they contain. They dismiss them all as “heterodox” teachings, outside the orthodox tradition, and disparage them freely to enhance their own reputations. This too is a deeply misguided course.

Among the worthies of the Han dynasty, Zhang Liang, whose courtesy name was Zifang, was the most outstanding, yet he once followed the Daoist adept Chisongzi. No one over the past thousand years has surpassed him. Among the worthies of the Tang, Li Bai was the most celebrated and was called an “immortal banished to earth.” Among the worthies of the Song, Su Shi, whose courtesy name was Zizhan, was also exceptional and was known as “Immortal Su.” If their teachings are condemned as heterodox, why are they praised and held in esteem for their reputations? If one truly understands the principles involved, what is wrong with becoming a true immortal or a true Buddha?

Those with narrow views feel no shame before one another, and so they slander one another in turn. The sages and worthies of antiquity treated one another with respect and courtesy, seeking only to understand the Great Dao. Today, to label Buddhism and Daoism as teachings like those of Yang Zhu and Mo Di is a grave mistake. Moreover, within the Three Teachings, there are often people called Confucians whose conduct resembles that of the Mohists, and people called Mohists whose conduct accords with Confucianism. How much more so is this true of immortals and Buddhas? People of the highest character and those who follow the Dao seek only the Great Dao; they can set aside all other outward labels. Thus it is said: under heaven, there are not two different Great Daos.

A disciple asked, “Throughout history, among those who became immortals or Buddhas, whether they were scholars or realized sages, all sought only the Dao and pursued nothing else. That is why it is said: ‘Under Heaven there are not two different Daos.’”

Everyone in the world can attain it…

The disciple then asked, “Throughout history, among those who became immortals or Buddhas, have there been more people of wealth and status, or more people who were poor and lowly?”

Shangyangzi replied, “There is no way to recount them all one by one. The wealthy can cultivate the Dao, and the poor can cultivate it too. It is like a great road and a small path: what matters is how a person travels it.” The disciple asked, “What is the principle behind this?” Shangyangzi said:

“Long ago, the Yellow Emperor asked Guangchengzi, a legendary realized adept, about the Dao. Guangchengzi told him, ‘The Great Dao is boundless, yet people think it has an end. It is unfathomable, yet people think they have reached its limit. One who attains the Dao may become an emperor above or a king below; one who loses the Dao sees light above but ultimately returns to dust below. All things in the world are born from earth and in the end return to earth. Therefore, I will leave you and enter the Gate of the Infinite, wandering in the realm beyond bounds, and enduring as long as Heaven and Earth.’ The Yellow Emperor cultivated this Dao and later ascended to Heaven riding a dragon.

“The Supreme Primordial Lady once told Laozi, ‘Take the divine elixir, and your lifespan will be limitless.’ Laozi cultivated this Dao and became the ancestral patriarch of the Great Dao. Later people say that the Dao of the Golden Elixir is merely the teaching and practice of Huang-Lao, represented by the Yellow Emperor and Laozi. They do not understand that the sages transmitted the supreme Dao of the Golden Elixir, the great undertaking of becoming an immortal or a Buddha. It is not an ordinary technique but the true Dao. Without a true master’s direct oral instruction, how could anyone be born already able to understand it for themselves? A person need only hold firmly to the resolve to seek the Dao and search for a teacher; there is no need to concern themselves with whether they are wealthy or poor.

“Thus, Laozi once served as a Keeper of the Archives; Pengzu was a high official; Qiu Sheng held office under the Yin dynasty; Lü Wang served as Grand Preceptor; Boju was a minister; Yin Xi was a Gatekeeper; Xin Ping and Cui Qu both served as senior ministers; Gengsang lived in seclusion at Pilin; Zixiu once administered the Lacquer Garden; the Marquis of Liu was an imperial tutor; the Four White-Haired Elders assisted Emperor Hui of Han; Chang Sheng served as a whip-bearing attendant; Qin Gao held office as a court official; Yufeng was an overseer of pottery; Fang Hui served as a local official; Fu Guang held office during the Han dynasty, and Ma Dan during the Jin; Jingyang served as a county magistrate, while Zhongli resigned his office to cultivate the Dao. Xu once employed servants, and Chunyang once sat for the civil service examinations.

“The Lord of the Toad, Haichan, was originally prime minister of Yan. He later abandoned wealth and status to cultivate the Dao. A poem says, ‘He left behind the household of three thousand in the world of fire, and cast away the million armed retainers at his gate.’ Patriarch Danyang was born to a wealthy family and twice sat for the palace examinations. At the age of forty-five he met Chongyang, Wang Chongyang, then gave up his estate, turned his heart toward emptiness, and waited for his teacher’s guidance, enduring many hardships. He joined with Tan, Qiu, Liu, and Hao as fellow seekers, exhorting one another and bearing adversity and humiliation. While traveling, he often quoted an old poem: ‘With companions at the Three Mountains, human ties grow light; with no home across the Four Seas, the Dao’s righteousness runs deep.’ Many others received their transmission, and among them Lord Huangfang was the first to attain the Dao. I, Perfected One Taixu, received the transmission from Lord Huangfang and passed it on to my late teacher, Perfected One Ziqiong. My teacher Yuanduzǐ also received the Dao of Perfected One Ziqiong. These are only a few examples.

“Likewise, Dongfang Shuo sought the Dao from Yellow Brow; An Qisheng studied under Xianmenzi; and the Elder with Deer-Skin Cloak studied under Wang Fangping. Lu Xiujing studied under Sun Youyue; Tao Hongjing under Wang Zhiyuan; Celestial Master Ye under Luo Gongyuan; Zhong Fang became a disciple of Master Xiyi; and Chuhou went to study with Perfected One Ziyang. Fu Bi sought instruction from Wang Chongzhao; Zhu Xi paid homage to Cui Zixu; Liu Zhiliang associated with the Sixth Patriarch; Layman Pang paid homage to Mazu; and the Great Master Fu met the monk Song. Chancellor Cui visited Dongsi Hui; Magistrate Lu paid a visit to Touzi; Minister Chen visited Ciming of Muzhou; Yizhao and Liang Sui visited Magu; Zhao Shuangtai sent gifts to Yangshan; Yang Wengong visited Shimen; Li Wanjuan visited Guizong; Chancellor Pei paid homage to Xiyun; Yu Di visited Ziyu; Fang Ru asked Guoyi about the Dao; Han Changli paid homage to Dajia in Guangdi; Governor Li paid homage to Yaoshan in Jing; Fan Wenzhenggong paid homage to the ancient pagoda master in Jiangdong; Li Wenhe visited Shimen south of the capital; Academician Yang paid homage to Huilian in the western capital; and Zhang Wujin paid homage to Xuefeng in Hunan. There are many similar cases, too many to list one by one. They are examples of princes, dukes, and great officials setting aside their pride and respectfully seeking instruction.

“Yet some people seek the Dao sincerely and others falsely. Those who seek it falsely are not earnest in their hearts. Those who seek it sincerely can grasp its essential meaning upon hearing a single sentence. Those who continue seeking after they have understood it will eventually achieve something; those who slander the Dao’s teachings do not realize that they are harming themselves. Those who persevere in seeking the Dao will surely attain it; those who disparage it will ultimately incur the fault of harmful speech. Even a capable person who incurs this fault will lose their original nature. But even someone dull-witted and poor can rise to the realm of the sages if their resolve is firm. Whether one believes or turns away depends on a single thought in the present moment. How could students of the Dao fail to take warning from this?

“Those who already hold office when they hear the Great Dao can use their position to accomplish their work on the Dao. Those who have not yet entered office when they hear it can also accomplish this work by other means. Some cultivate in seclusion while serving in government; some conceal themselves among humble attendants; some live hidden in the cities, others in the mountains and forests. If they have enough money, they can give it in charity; if they do not have enough, they can find ways to obtain it. If they devote themselves wholeheartedly to accomplishing their work on the Dao, why should it matter whether they are wealthy or poor?”

Shangyangzi, a revered Daoist master, admonished his disciples: “When you have abundant wealth, you should give it away. When your means are insufficient, find a way to obtain what you need. If you devote yourself to cultivating the Dao, why concern yourself with whether you are rich or poor, noble or humble?”

Shangyangzi also said to his disciples: “Come, I have something to tell you. I once observed water and discovered that the principles governing its movement secretly accord with the Great Dao, the fundamental order of the universe. Do you understand the principles of water? If you do not understand its vastness, how can you truly understand its clarity? Come, I will tell you where water begins. You study the Dao, yet do not know where water originates. That is like arriving somewhere without knowing where your home is—or where you can go. Now I will speak about the source of water.”

Its source is as steep as sheer cliffs, with a solitary peak rising high and perilously above. The more one looks up, the higher it seems. It is also like a deep, unfathomable cavern: the farther one probes, the deeper and more mysterious it appears. The heart longs to seek it, yet cannot grasp it. One seems to see it just ahead, then in an instant it is behind. It is at once like a sage and an ordinary person, like a spirit and a ghost. Its gaze flashes like lightning, so no one dares look upon it rashly.

There it is dark and deep, vast and boundless. From Mount Sumeru—a name often used in Buddhist and Daoist texts for an immense, towering mountain—it looks like an ocean. This is the source of water, and so it is called the “realm of nirvana,” the state of release from birth and death, stillness, and purity. A spring wells up from the source, bright as sweet dew, each drop like a pearl. As it flows slowly, it resembles dragon’s saliva; as it trickles in fine streams, it resembles marrow. It is also called jade nectar and creamy elixir, names that describe its precious sweetness.

At first, as the spring emerges, it seems to pass through raging waves and polluted waters. Only after two days and nights, winding its way for three hundred li, does one reach this water. It is exceptionally clear, the source of cloud and water. Its waters are known by names such as Flower Pool, Winding River, Gui Cave, and Geng Vortex. The water is white as silver and clear to the bottom.

I once heard a perfected one—a person who has attained the Dao—say that within clear water is white metal, transformed into black lead, scattering like snow in the sky and pure white as the vapor of primordial simplicity. This water receives the upright Qi of Yang that existed before Heaven and Earth. Thus it is warm in winter and cool in summer, neither cold nor hot. Those troubled by heat can bathe in it, and those who are thirsty can drink it. Whoever drinks this water is troubled neither by hunger and thirst nor by the burdens of sleep or attachment to life and death. Remember: this water is sometimes clear and sometimes turbid. The turbid water is far away; the clear water is near. Those who drink the turbid water become drunk; those who find the clear water awaken.

The water flows on for another five hundred li, then seeps away. When it seeps away, no trace can be seen, and there is no need to search for it deliberately. After traveling in this way for about a month, one comes to a vast, ten-thousand-zhang gorge, where sheer cliffs cut off the way. There are the Moon Grotto, the Zi Confluence, the Zi-Wu Valley, and the Golden Flower Pool. Here the source of water is found again, and the water once more becomes clear. At times it flows back upward; at times it lies heavy, like blood; at times it drifts like a white ribbon; at times it gathers like a deep green pool. Its forms are subtle and hard to discern. Eventually it joins a stream, and the stream in turn flows into a river.

In the river, the water surges in vast, broad, and deep currents whose limits cannot be measured. At this point I privately thought I had reached the ultimate in water, but discovered that I had not yet come to its end. The water then branches through the Jing and Wei rivers, spreads across the Five Lakes, and travels upstream along the Yellow River. It moves on when it meets a clear current and rests when it encounters raging waves. Roaming all the way, it finally reaches the sea, only to be astonished by its boundless expanse. At this point, one must focus the mind and hold to the One, remain cautious and vigilant, and preserve one’s purity, so as not to lose one’s body and life. Remember this.

I also heard a perfected one say: The sea is where all the waters under Heaven gather. The great Peng described by Zhuangzi flew for six months before stopping once; when it rested, it drank from the sea. Remember this. The sea is so deep and vast that no one can see its breadth, measure its depth, or know how wide it is. I went to ask a perfected person, who explained: The sea is where the streams from ten thousand valleys flow together, where a hundred rivers converge, and toward which the waters of the Yangtze, the Han, and other rivers all turn.

The perfected person added that this describes only the sea’s nearer aspect. Those who truly understand the sea know that water can also flow upstream: the sea’s waters rise to connect with the Celestial River. Thus water follows a pattern of ebbing and swelling, resting and flowing. Remember this.

Water’s ability to flow upstream is the sign that it has reached its ultimate. Only now do I understand what it means to reach the ultimate in water. There is a method of cultivation for attaining this state. The disciple replied, “Good. I will remember. There is indeed a method for reaching the ultimate in water.”

The Master of Shangyang said, “Come here. I will explain a few more principles to you. I, too, once pursued learning. In my youth, I was skilled at writing parallel prose, studied prosody, and delved into the classics of both ancient and modern times. I enjoyed writing commentaries and treatises, discussing the principles of nature and principle, and distinguishing right from wrong. I was eager to investigate every kind of learning, great and small, and never slackened in my studies. I once thought this was the highest attainment of learning, not knowing that there was still a level beyond it.

“Back then, I did not know that perfected people existed in the world, nor did I believe that there were ways to become an immortal or a Buddha. Later, my teacher, Perfected Zhao, returned from his cultivation on Mount Taiti and taught me the Way of the Golden Elixir, the Daoist method of cultivation centered on Neidan (internal alchemy). He also explained how the Celestial River could flow in reverse. Only then did I understand that learning had a higher realm. Remember this: unless water flows upstream, its utmost potential remains unseen; unless people have heard of the Way of longevity, they have not yet reached the highest realm of learning. When the sea joins the Celestial River, one can know that water, too, may flow upstream. When people pursue learning and understand the Great Dao, they will know that the body can endure for a long time. Remember this.”

The disciple replied, “Yes. When one pursues learning and understands the Great Dao, one knows that the body can endure for a long time. From hearing one thing, I have gained three insights: I understand the nature of water, the purpose of learning, and the Way of long life and clear vision—the cultivation goal of enduring in life and maintaining clarity.”

Seeing One’s Nature and Becoming a Buddha

The disciple asked, “The principles of the world are fundamentally one, and this is indeed so. The Dao Laozi speaks of is, in the end, the Way of the Golden Elixir; the Way of the Golden Elixir concerns the cultivation of nature and life. Bodhidharma, the First Patriarch of Chan Buddhism, came from the West to the Central Lands and taught the direct pointing to the human mind and seeing one’s nature to become a Buddha. Could such a teaching really lie outside the Way of the Golden Elixir?”

Master Shangyang said, “Bodhidharma’s Way—the founder of Chan Buddhism—is the Way of the Golden Elixir, the Daoist path of Neidan cultivation. People differ in their natural capacities: some are keen, others dull. Out of compassion, the Buddha taught different skillful methods to guide them. Later students of the Way included some who were too clever and others who understood too little.

“Why do I say this? The clever do not understand the true root at the ‘base of the heels’—the great matter bound up with what grounds one’s very existence. It shines through past and present, can free people from bondage, and concerns the transformation of life and death. When they fail to understand this, they act as they please; that is why they have gone too far.

“The dull, for their part, do not realize that within the physical body there is a ‘true person without a position’—one’s true nature, unconstrained by status or names. Nor are they willing to take on the great matter of cultivation. They fail to understand this, yet rely only on reciting scriptures and the Buddha’s name, observing vegetarian precepts, and sitting in meditation, hoping thereby to realize their nature and become Buddhas. This is truly foolish; that is why they fall short.

“Someone asked, ‘Is realizing one’s nature the same as becoming a Buddha?’ Master Shangyang cited the words of Fu Dashi: ‘Even after passing through eighty thousand kalpas, one will ultimately fall into emptiness and extinction.’ Realizing one’s nature is like hearing of the Way; becoming a Buddha is like truly attaining it through cultivation. After hearing the teaching, one must put it into practice. Thus the Dao De Jing says that when people of the highest capacity hear of the Way, they diligently practice it. After realizing one’s nature, one must continue to cultivate. The Snow Mountain Youth—Shakyamuni Buddha before his awakening—practiced for many years in the Snow Mountains before attaining Buddhahood. How could one claim to have become a Buddha through realizing one’s nature alone, without learning or cultivation?”

Someone asked, “All sentient beings possess Buddha-nature. It is also said that people’s views and knowledge are their lucid awareness. Which of these, then, can lead a person to Buddhahood?”

The reply was, “The nature that underlies views and knowledge cannot lead a person to Buddhahood. Only the fundamental nature possessed by all sentient beings can do so.”

The questioner continued, “This differs from what I have heard. Is the fundamental nature of sentient beings their lucid awareness? How does it lead a person to awakening and Buddhahood?”

The reply remained the same: “The nature that underlies views and knowledge cannot lead a person to Buddhahood. Only the fundamental nature of sentient beings can do so.”

The questioner asked, “Is this nature of sentient beings one’s own nature?”

“It is,” came the reply.

“Why?”

“People’s views and knowledge belong to the nature that distinguishes right from wrong and creates karmic obstacles. The fundamental nature of sentient beings, by contrast, is the nature that brings all things into being. Because people do not recognize this nature, they find it difficult to escape the cycle of birth and death and lose their way to Nirvana, the state of release from birth and death. Views and knowledge pursue sights and sounds and seek romantic attachment, giving rise to clinging and delusion. The fundamental nature of sentient beings, however, contains immense vitality and power even when it is in the midst of impurity.

“Views and knowledge arise from the external objects encountered by the six faculties—eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind. Day after day, they are bound up in love and attachment without respite. The fundamental nature of sentient beings, by contrast, is like something standing firmly behind one’s heels: it remains constant and unmoving, and so can attain great freedom.

“An ancient eminent monk said, ‘The suffering of hell is not the greatest suffering. The greatest suffering is to practice in a monk’s robe without understanding the great matter of birth and death.’ How could people imagine that the fundamental nature of sentient beings is the true Buddha, constant and unmoving, with great freedom? Once you awaken to this true Buddha, you know it is within yourself, not a Buddha image carved from wood or molded from clay. That is why it is said that the true Buddha sits within you. Only at this point can one be said to have seen one’s nature and become a Buddha.

“That is why it is said, ‘Mind itself is Buddha.’ If you have not awakened to the true Buddha within yourself as your own true nature, but instead take views and knowledge to be Buddha-nature, you are as mistaken as someone who takes another person’s family name to be the name of his own son. The error could hardly be greater. That is why it is also said, ‘Mind is not Buddha.’

“Even if you have awakened to your own nature as the true Buddha, this nature and Buddha still depend on the body, a temporary union of the Four Great Elements—earth, water, fire, and wind. You have not yet attained the level of cultivation described at the Four Assemblies of Changlu. That is why it is also said, ‘Neither mind nor Buddha.’

“If you can awaken to your own nature as the true Buddha and understand it clearly, then you must rely on cultivation to bring it to fruition. That is why it is said, ‘See your nature and become a Buddha.’ Shakyamuni practiced in the Snowy Mountains for forty-two years, and Bodhidharma sat in meditation at Shaolin Temple for nine years. In truth, both were investigating this fundamental matter.”

End of Volume Fourteen of Shangyangzi’s Essentials of the Golden Elixir.

Volume Fifteen of Shangyangzi’s Essentials of the Golden Elixir, written by Shangyangzi Guanwuwu Chen Zhixu of the Purple Empyrean’s Crimson Palace.

“Beyond the customary bounds.” A letter to Elder Wang Xiang.

“Pure and bare, utterly unadorned” describes a state of complete purity, free from anything extraneous and without any concealment. “Becoming one” means returning to unity. The interlinear note, “This should perhaps read ‘meager and simple,’” is an editorial emendation, suggesting that the original characters may have been “meager and simple,” meaning scant or plain.

“Bare and clean, naked and open” means that our original mind and nature are pure, candid, and fully revealed, with nothing obscuring them. This is a matter of fundamental importance, and a koan already present before us. It has immense power, quietly manifesting inconceivable workings and opening the way for the root of all things, as if it upheld Heaven and Earth. It transcends time and space; from beginningless time its numinous clarity has never been dimmed, and through countless kalpas its true nature has always remained.

The sages and worthies of old, those who attained the Dao, the high immortals, and the Buddhas all taught and demonstrated on the basis of this true nature. Thus, the Buddhas of the three ages, Maitreya Buddha, the Seven Buddhas before and after him, the four generations of Indian Chan patriarchs, the second and third generations of Chinese Chan patriarchs, and the Buddhas throughout the ages all realized the same thing. The ancients exhausted their ingenuity yet could not give it a fitting name. Unwilling to establish a word for it, they could only say “just so”—that is, “it is simply this.” Consider it closely: it has no beginning or end, no back or front. In the final analysis, it is simply as it is.

Since Bodhidharma came east from India and the Sixth Patriarch Huineng of Caoxi began promoting Chan, outstanding figures in monasteries throughout the land have often discussed this matter, yet no one has been willing to give it a fixed name. A truly discerning good teacher may help people break free of acquired habits and influences, or even bring them to understand their original mind before any verbal explanation begins. Those of duller faculties, however, are often taught to speak of mind and nature before others, to search outward for their original face, and to chase shadows and lights. In the end they gain nothing; only in old age do they discover that they were misled, and then they turn to blame the patriarchs and Buddhas. This is truly regrettable. So Shangyangzi spares no words in explaining the matter fully on behalf of the sages of past and future: what is called “just so” is that pure, candid nature, wholly without concealment.

It was so before one’s parents gave birth to one, and it is so after birth; it is so in the great matter of life, and it is so in the koan already present before us. In the end, purity and candor are “just so,” and “just so” is purity and candor. Now that this has been made so plain, later readers need only turn their gaze inward to see that the two expressions point to the same thing.

The scripture then recounts the story of Shakyamuni Buddha’s birth: Lady Maya grasped a tree branch with her left hand, and Shakyamuni was born from her right side. Nine dragons poured water over him to bathe him. Shakyamuni then took seven steps, looked in all four directions, pointed one hand to Heaven and the other to Earth, and declared loudly, “Above Heaven and below Earth, I alone am honored.” Chan communities throughout the ages have often discussed this episode. Some have treated it as historical fact, some as a miraculous sign, and others as a Chan koan. Shangyangzi points out its allegorical meaning: Maya grasping the branch and Shakyamuni’s birth symbolize freedom from birth and death; the nine dragons bathing him symbolize the purity of our nature; his seven steps and his gaze in all four directions symbolize the revelation of our original face; pointing one hand to Heaven and the other to Earth is like laying the truth plainly before us; and “Above Heaven and below Earth, I alone am honored” points to the fundamental condition inherent in everyone.

Yet although these words sound fine, close examination reveals shortcomings, and even a hidden edge. Later, Chan Master Yunmen said, “Had I seen him say this then, I would have struck him dead with a staff and fed him to the dogs, just to bring peace to the world.” Yunmen used a fierce rebuke to convey the Chan teaching. Chan Master Yuanwu said that Shakyamuni had blocked the crucial point, while Yunmen knew how to repay his kindness. Shangyangzi holds that Yuanwu understood the hidden meaning, yet spoke of it so mysteriously that it was like shouting about ghosts in broad daylight.

Are these words an obstacle, or a skillful means of teaching? To call them an obstacle would be like deceiving people; to call them a skillful means is to see the guidance they offer right before us. Chan Master Linji said that within every person’s flesh and blood is a “true person without rank”—the true nature, unconstrained by status or names—who comes and goes among us. This points directly to the original mind. Ordinary people often grope in the dark, half understanding and half confused; those with discernment can understand at once: the “true person without rank” is that pure, candid nature. An ancient sage said, “One’s nature is realized by oneself; the methods for cultivating life await transmission from a teacher.” This means that one must realize one’s nature for oneself, while the methods for cultivating life require a teacher’s transmission.

Those with a sound foundation in cultivation will naturally reveal within themselves their constant and true nature; the whole body and mind are already complete and present. Why depend on so many explanations? The pure, candid nature is the true Buddha-nature. The so-called fundamental condition and the koan already present before us are both manifestations of the true Buddha-nature. Do not think this great matter belongs only to Shakyamuni Buddha: everyone possesses it within themselves, and from the beginning nothing has been lacking.

Even if all of Heaven and Earth were brought before us, Yunmen could return to this world and still have nothing superfluous to say; Yuanwu could be born again and would not dare to make reckless conjectures. At this point, one knows that one’s nature belongs to oneself: no one else can realize it on one’s behalf or deceive one about it. Only then does one understand that “one’s nature is realized by oneself.” Once one truly reaches this profound and steadfast state, even if karmic forces surge like windblown sand and the ocean raises dust, the pure nature remains unmoving. Even if the physical body undergoes every kind of birth and death, the inner truth stays firm and secure, untouched by change. This is to cling to no fixed views and to remain unconfused by external conditions.

On the final night of the year, sitting alone by lamplight, one hears the clepsydra run out and the bell ring, and then says that the Buddha’s teaching has gone with the old year. This symbolizes remaining clear and at ease in the face of passing time and the changes of birth and death. This is great liberation and great illumination: one is not lost in birth and death, nor constrained by gain and loss or the cycle of rebirth. Whoever truly understands this can stand alongside the Buddhas of the three ages. Even to say that Maitreya Buddha has become one’s servant does nothing to diminish the bearing of a great person.

Do not remain dazed, unable to make a clean break, repeatedly taking off and putting on your clothes without ever bringing the matter to a close. Do not keep doubting above and below, speaking idly, or searching among words and texts for a place to settle your life or for ready-made answers. These are all delusions. When will you turn the light around and look within, and undergo a complete transformation?

My teacher Zhao said: “People today, whether they look forward or backward, cannot recognize the ground on which they stand. That is the problem. So some speak idly about human nature and emptiness, repeating the same words until old age. Have they not simply given away the Chan school’s words of insight—the phrases and devices that awaken people? Yet this teacher speaks in a roundabout way and is firm in manner. He allows neither such talk nor speech that is completely open and unguarded. He permits neither the direct presentation of a ready-made gong’an—a Chan case used to prompt awakening—nor straightforward pointing-out, much less the use of blows or shouts to bring someone to sudden realization. Is this not the kind of opportunity that leads one into the ranks of Chan adepts? For people at the time understood the face of the Buddha and the patriarchs in terms of mental consciousness and views. When my teacher guided those of the highest capacity, he needed only to raise his brows and open his eyes for them to understand. Once matters had reached that point, he would do no more than smile.

“When I passed through Xingnan, I met a Daoist called Elder Xiang, a man of considerable talent and ability. He said that he had once visited Chan monasteries and had deeply grasped the meaning of Chan. I asked about his lineage and learned that he was a successor in the line of Ying’an. His teacher, Blind Elder, often instructed him: ‘You must stay closely joined to it, keeping it company without leaving it for even an instant. Only then have you gained a little sense of how to enter.’ He also said: ‘You must recognize that empty, hollow skull. Try sitting cross-legged alone on a meditation cushion, deep in the night with the lamp extinguished, and examine it carefully.’ Blind Elder spoke these words with real care and persistence. Most people would see it that way, but I think Blind Elder should not have led people toward such preliminary investigation. Even a thousand years from now, people will still seize on ‘the skull’ and ‘sitting alone to examine it in the stillness of night, with the lamp out,’ talking endlessly about them.

“Still, the work of entering the realm of cultivation must ultimately be done by those who have truly entered it. So the Great Meaning of the Nine Returns of the Diamond, transmitted by Blind Elder, says that the Buddha taught a sequence of three days—initial, middle, and final. Is this not also a matter of beginning practice? Elder Xiang was originally at ease and unobstructed, endowed with a keen capacity. After his teacher confirmed him, he practiced alone, without companions. Day and night, at every moment, he recognized his own ‘master’—his inner ruler, his original mind—and used it to observe himself.

“Recently Elder Xiang came to ask for instruction, hoping for a phrase that would make his ‘heels turn’—a change in his footing, a moment of realization. So I spoke to him of the truth that is open and unobstructed: take the Diamond Sutra as its substance for now, and Nirvana, the realm of extinction and liberation, as its practical function. In serene openness, let forth a lion’s roar; in free and vigorous action, show the force of a mighty tiger. Once you understand, abide there, and respond to each circumstance in accordance with the central teaching. After that, you must let everything go and rest completely, as one would release one’s grip while standing at the edge of a cliff. Is this not the practice of facing a wall in stillness at Shaolin Temple?

“Only at this stage do you understand that practice is not merely a search for the realization that makes your heels turn. You must also know that this is the realm of one who has personally become a Buddha’s disciple. From then on, as Elder Xiang travels from place to place, if he meets monks in patched robes nodding off, he may as well say a few words to them and tell them, ‘This is what I said.’”

“Staffs, temple flagpoles (the tall poles before a monastery that mark a place of practice), sticks, fly whisks, fists, and shouts”—these devices of Chan encounter, the words and actions used to awaken people, are all ways the Buddhas have taught the Dharma and upheld its central purpose. They can be adapted to the moment, and they can serve as expedient means or express the truth. A shout is not necessarily just a shout, and a blow is not necessarily just a blow. One must understand how master and disciple respond to one another. All distinctions between what is said before and after fall away; the mind is lucid and bright, like the sun and moon hanging high, able to grasp Heaven and Earth.

Long ago, Ananda asked Mahākāśyapa, “Besides the golden robe handed down by the World-Honored One, what other Dharma did he transmit?” Kāśyapa called out, “Ananda!” Ananda answered. Kāśyapa said, “Take down the flagpole before the gate.” Does this not point directly to the human mind and reveal its original wholeness? We can see that the wondrous mind of nirvana and the treasury of the true Dharma eye—the heart of right insight into the Buddha’s teaching—are all contained in Kāśyapa’s words. Though his reply is direct, one must first see through to what it actually points. The World-Honored One transmitted the Dharma with a smile; Kāśyapa transmitted it with a call. Only through that smile and that call can we understand how the Buddhas, to help people awaken, were willing to set aside their dignity and go among sentient beings to seek them out and guide them. Otherwise, how could we grasp the true meaning of the Dharma’s coming from the West, or receive its message?

From then on, whenever Buddhas and patriarchs encountered different circumstances, they found ways to teach wherever they were. Sometimes a stick, a fly whisk, or a staff was less effective than a shout, which spared people much deliberation; only those with clear eyes understood as soon as they heard it. Mazu’s shout left Baizhang deaf for three days—this is one example. Drinking tea, receiving food, nostrils, the numinous bone, “mind itself is Buddha” or “neither mind nor Buddha,” a single flower, the cypress tree, three catties of hemp, seven pounds of cloth, and wind and moon, stone and spring: these stories and exchanges, through which earlier sages used Chan encounters to awaken people, can all serve as teachings when their point is brought to light. Those of dull faculties, however, hear them as having nothing to do with one another.

Śākyamuni said, “I take great perfect awakening as my monastery.” Leave aside “great perfect awakening” for now and ask: what is a monastery? Later generations took a monastery to mean the site of a temple, where monks live. This is truly laughable, because they did not know the term originally pointed to something else. The next line says, “The body and mind dwell at ease; this is the wisdom of equality.” The meaning is that the true place of practice is where body and mind abide peacefully and the wisdom of equality is realized—the wisdom that views all things without distinction or hierarchy. Today, when Chan monks hear the phrase “wisdom of equality,” they often cannot understand it, let alone explain what a monastery is. Some think they can force an explanation by claiming that the wisdom of equality is simply their own mind. They do not know that the “mind” in question is not the mind they ordinarily take it to be. That is why the Buddhas said, “Neither mind nor Buddha,” and also, “Mind is not Buddha; wisdom is not the Way.”

Moved by compassion, the Buddhas saw that sentient beings did not understand their own nature, so they set up various forms and methods to let people see themselves. When there was no other way, they raised a fist, turned a fly whisk upside down, stuck out their tongues, or bowed their heads. These gestures were simple and easy to see, yet people refused to acknowledge them. So it was said that the monastery gate could be placed atop the Buddha hall, or the Buddha hall put inside a lantern. The Buddha hall is meant to enshrine the Buddha, so how could the monastery gate be moved onto it? And putting the Buddha hall inside a lantern makes it look bright and radiant. Such sayings also evoke mountains and rivers, Mount Sumeru, the Kunlun Mountains, and other images. Some Chan monks read these words and find them as meaningless as chewing wax. They conclude that they are merely tangled Chan riddles and refuse to engage with them.

Chan Master Foguo once said: Above, seek no support or foothold; below, cling not to yourself. Outside, see no earth or mountains and rivers; inside, cling neither to what is heard and felt nor to knowledge. In an instant, break free of discriminating consciousness; let not a single thought arise. Then you can realize the scenery of your original ground and see your original face. Since everyone can understand and attain the mind-seal of the patriarchs—the mind teaching handed down through the patriarchal lineage—after all this inquiry, one must still not cling to it. In the end, one may even shout at the Buddha, abuse the patriarchs, drive Śākyamuni away, and call Maitreya a servant. These acts are meant to help people recognize their own minds and stop treating other people’s views as their own. But later, some saw others shouting and shouted along; saw others abusing the patriarchs and did the same, without understanding that the ancients spoke from within themselves and revealed their own realization. To play with Chan encounters for their own sake only creates harmful karma through speech and obscures the truth. Even if one searches and guesses at what comes before and after a saying, sometimes understanding it and sometimes accidentally matching it, this is no more than the false view of a wild-fox spirit. If one’s understanding remains at this level, how could one settle the matter in five hundred years, let alone after ten thousand kalpas and a thousand lifetimes?

The ancients had deep capacities, yet even with such courage and diligence they could still miss their chance. Chan Master Yuanwu resolved to study and seek teachers in the south, visiting Changqing and sitting through seven meditation cushions. Xuefeng climbed Mount Touzi three times and Mount Dong nine times. Mazu awakened while grinding a brick; the Sixth Patriarch pounded rice with his own hands; the Second Patriarch cut off his arm and stood in the snow to seek the Dharma. Śākyamuni heard half a verse and was willing to give up his whole body. Only through such arduous trials did the sages of old find the way to escape birth and death. Today, some people recite the words of Yao and Shun but behave like Jie and Zhou, deceiving only themselves and others.

If everyone can reach this state and work with all their strength, searching inward without fear or doubt, without retreating or turning away, then suddenly they will awaken and stand firmly on their own feet. Their practice will continue without interruption, and its light will illuminate Heaven and Earth. Is this not like Maitreya descending into the world and meeting Śākyamuni face to face? Looking back then, one will see that the understanding of ordinary people falls short. One will know that this matter is not difficult: miss the mark by even a little, and one is an ordinary person; advance one step, and one is a Buddha.

Zhenfayan asked about the Dao: “Does Buddhism also distinguish between its roots and its branches?” Shangyangzi replied: “Since the time before King Wuyin, Buddhas have appeared and entered nirvana without interruption, countless beyond measure. As far back as the Kalpa of Adornment, Manjushri had already served as teacher to the Seven Buddhas. In the present Kalpa of the Wise, Shakyamuni Buddha told Mahākāśyapa: ‘I entrust to you the Treasury of the True Dharma Eye—the right view and essential transmission of the Buddha’s teaching—the wondrous mind of nirvana, the reality that is without marks, and the profound, subtle Mahayana teaching. You must protect and uphold them.’ Kāśyapa bowed at the Buddha’s feet and said: ‘I will respectfully obey and take on the responsibility of protecting and upholding them.’ From then on, the Buddha’s teaching was passed down from one generation to the next, like a flame passed from lamp to lamp.

Later, Bodhidharma received the Dharma from Prajñātāra and came to China. He gathered four disciples—Zongchi, Daofu, Daoyu, and Huike—and then transmitted the Dharma to them. As he prepared to return to the West, he said to Daofu, ‘You have received my skin’; to the nun Zongchi, ‘You have received my flesh’; to Daoyu, ‘You have received my bones’; and to Huike, ‘You have received my marrow.’ This signified that they had understood the Buddha’s teaching to different depths. Bodhidharma also said: ‘Long ago, the Tathāgata transmitted the Treasury of the True Dharma Eye and the wondrous mind of nirvana to Mahākāśyapa. It was passed down in succession until it reached me. Now I entrust it to you; you must protect and uphold it.’

Huike transmitted the lineage down to the Tang dynasty, and later it reached Huineng. The Buddha’s teaching then spread widely throughout the world, and with it came a profusion of mixed and confused teachings. Bodhidharma had told Huike: ‘Two hundred years from now, the Buddha’s teaching will spread everywhere. Many will understand its principles, but few will truly put them into practice; many will expound its doctrines, but few will truly penetrate them. Only those who awaken to the true realm, understand the emptiness of mind and the emptiness of the Dharma, and purify the three bodies—the Dharma body, the reward body, and the transformation body—can realize the Mahayana.’”

Miduowen stepped beyond his rank to ask: “Can all three approaches—the Great Vehicle, the Middle Vehicle, and the Small Vehicle—lead to Buddhahood?” Shangyangzi replied: “Only the right view indicated by the ‘Eye of the True Dharma’ is the supreme One Vehicle teaching. The scriptures say that in the Buddha lands throughout the ten directions there is only one vehicle, with no second or third vehicle. The Buddha temporarily established different names as skillful means to teach and guide sentient beings. That is why I say the Middle Vehicle and the Small Vehicle are names established as skillful means.

“Only the supreme One Vehicle takes true emptiness, free from outflows, as its foundation. It is genuine and hard to attain, and ultimately takes the true mind and true emptiness as the principles for cultivation. Did the Venerable Dazhu not say that the mind itself is Buddha, so there is no need to seek Buddha by means of Buddha; the mind itself is the Dharma, so there is no need to seek Dharma by means of Dharma? Buddha and Dharma are originally without distinction. The Three Jewels—Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha—unite as one and are called the Three Jewels in One Body. From this we can see that the Three Jewels have always been one body. How, then, could there be two vehicles that differ from one another?”

Miaoxiang Buddha asked, “Do the Tathagata’s teaching of the Dharma, the learners’ listening to it, and the acts of teaching and listening bring merit?”

Shangyangzi replied, “The Tathagata has attained Buddhahood and is a person of the highest capacity. When bodhisattvas teach the Dharma, they do so to instruct gods and humans; they do not teach only those of lesser capacity, as the Āgama Sutras do.” Thus Devadatta said to Rāhulata, “This is the path of liberation spoken for those who transmit the Dharma.”

Those who teach and those who listen are both originally endowed with the Three Jewels as one, and it is through this that they can teach and listen. The Three Jewels as one refers to the Dharma body, the reward body, and the transformation body united as a single whole. The great master Shenhui once said, “When teaching the Dharma, the Buddha comes first, then the Dharma. When listening to the Dharma, the Dharma comes first, then the Buddha. Listening to the Dharma means gradually penetrating it through sudden awakening; awakening to the Dharma means suddenly understanding it through gradual cultivation.”

When the physical body teaches well, the Dharma body bows its head and listens. When the Dharma body teaches well, the reward body turns its head and listens intently. When the reward body teaches well, the transformation body listens with a pure heart of Wuwei (non-action). Yet neither the human body, composed of the four great elements, nor the Dharma body, reward body, or transformation body can truly teach or hear the Dharma. Only the formless true person seated within—the genuine mind unbound by any fixed identity or appearance—can teach and hear it.

Thus the monk Yixuan said, “Emptiness cannot teach the Dharma, nor can it hear it. The one who can truly teach and hear the Dharma is your clear, luminous, uniquely aware nature before your very eyes, without form or sound.” Therefore, the mind-Dharma is beyond words, and the Buddha-Dharma is beyond hearing.

A practitioner named Duokou asked, “Let us set aside the Three Bodies for now. What are the form body and the Dharma Body?”

Shangyangzi replied, “The form body is illusory—the deluded body. The Dharma Body is pure, complete, free, and unobstructed: the body of the Tathagata, and thus the true Buddha. Chan Master Dajian said, ‘Even if the form body is tall and imposing, if the mind’s realm is narrow, it cannot be called a great body. Even if the Dharma Body appears small, if the mind’s realm is vast as empty space, that is what is called a great body.’ This is Buddha-nature, the true mind. Practitioners should recognize it as their own true master: their innermost, authentic nature.

For this reason, the Buddhas and Patriarchs established various names, images, and teachings. They might use a blow from a staff, a whisk, a clenched fist, or a shout to awaken someone; or they might draw on objects such as a lantern, a Buddha hall, a walking stick, or a temple banner pole to offer insight. Yet no matter how many explanations and metaphors they use, they cannot fully describe the ultimate truth. This is called inconceivable merit. The Buddhas and Patriarchs simply gave names according to how things function, using objects as metaphors. In the end, all of these point to the Dharma Body of merit and virtue—the Dharma Body embodying merit and true nature.

Fati Ruru asked about the Dao: “Do the Buddhas of the past, present, and future still dwell in the world?” Shangyangzi replied, “The Buddhas of the past have passed away; those of the future have not yet arrived; and the Buddhas of the present cannot be seen.”

Fati Ruru asked, “Can my teacher still see the Buddha?” Shangyangzi said, “Why can’t you see him?” He then asked, “Does the Buddha have a form that can be seen?” Shangyangzi again replied, “The Buddhas of the past have passed away; those of the future have not yet arrived; and the Buddhas of the present cannot be seen.”

Fati Ruru asked again, “Then what does the Buddha look like?” Shangyangzi answered, “He is the one whom people bow to in reverence each day, and who guides and saves living beings.” Fati Ruru asked, “Is my teacher the only one who can see the Buddha? Who else can see him?” Shangyangzi said, “Those who truly see do not speak of it.” Fati Ruru asked, “Can I see him too?” Shangyangzi replied, “If you do not believe in the Buddha, he will not appear to you.” Fati Ruru lowered his head and said, “I have already resolved to believe. How can I see the Buddha?” Shangyangzi said, “I will open one eye for you, and the Buddha will be right before you.” Here, “eye” means the eye of wisdom that understands the Buddha’s teaching and sees reality, not the physical eye.

Fati Ruru asked, “What are the spiritual powers of the Buddha of the past?” Shangyangzi answered, “To cover, support, and contain all things.” He then asked, “What are the spiritual powers of the Buddha of the present?” The answer was, “To give life to all things and bring them to maturity.” He asked again, “What are the spiritual powers of the Buddha of the future?” The answer was, “Many treasures are about to be opened.” Fati Ruru asked, “What does ‘treasures’ mean?” Shangyangzi said, “They all belong to one great treasury.”

Fati Ruru then asked, “How does the Great Canon teach people?” Shangyangzi answered, “It embraces all sentient beings.” He asked, “Is the Great Canon itself sentient?” Shangyangzi said, “If it were an insentient thing, how could it be called a ‘treasury’? It is precisely because it has no consciousness that it is provisionally called the ‘Eye of the True Dharma.’” The “Treasury of the Eye of the True Dharma” means the fundamental wisdom that penetrates the True Dharma. It is neither within nor without, and is not confined to any of the four directions. It holds the crucial secrets of arising and ceasing and is the source of the Buddha’s teaching; hence it is called the “Treasury of the Eye of the True Dharma.”

Fati Ruru said, “I have heard the True Dharma. What is the ‘Treasury of the Eye’?” Shangyangzi replied, “Tell me: what thing has an eye in itself?” Fati Ruru asked, “Is this Treasury of the Eye the Treasury of Space?” Shangyangzi said, “The Buddha’s teaching is one principle; it does not assign names arbitrarily.”

Shangyangzi went on to say that those who study and practice should not learn only surface words or chase after heterodox views. They should know that this treasure lies right beneath their feet. It is so vast that it contains Heaven and Earth, shines through past and present, takes on limitless forms, and has inexhaustible wondrous functions; therefore it is called the “Inexhaustible Treasury.” As all things come and go, it remains ever thus and unmoving. It remains thus and unmoving through past and present, and even when facing the decisive moment of life and death. Thus one can attain great freedom. All the principles expounded in the Great Canon come from the Tathagata, and so it is also called the “Tathagata Treasury.”

Bao Ru said, “Delusion and awakening are two different paths. Why are there so many who are deluded and so few who awaken?”

The reply was: Long ago, the National Preceptor Zhong of Nanyang said that when sentient beings are deluded, their pure original nature congeals into discriminating consciousness, just as water freezes into ice in cold weather. When sentient beings awaken, discriminating consciousness melts away and they return to their original nature, just as ice turns back into water when the weather grows warm.

Shangyangzi offered another analogy: when sentient beings are deluded, it is like searching for fish through water; when they awaken, it is like the water drying up, so that fish and turtles appear of themselves. Huihai said that once an ordinary person understands their own nature, they are no longer an ordinary person, because they can suddenly comprehend the supreme path and transcend the mundane to enter the realm of the sages. If a Buddhist practitioner is deluded, they are not a true child of the Buddha, because they remain attached to distinctions between the ordinary and the sage, and will ultimately continue to sink into the cycle of existence.

Those who awaken transcend the distinction between life and death and Nirvana; those who are deluded merely talk about appearances and doctrines. The deluded think of cultivating good causes in this life in order to gain blessings in the next. Those who awaken can see the “living Vimalakirti” here and now—that is, a person who embodies the state of awakening. The deluded cultivate causes while waiting for results, like crossing the sea against the wind, with no idea when they will arrive. Those who awaken understand that mind itself is Buddha, like seeing a reflection beneath the moon and recognizing at a glance what is real and what is not.

Thus the Venerable Guma said, “Mind is originally mind; the original mind has no fixed Dharma.” From this we know that the original mind has no fixed Dharma, and that the mind as it originally is is the Dharma body—the Buddha’s pure, true body. The deluded take the pure Dharma body to be the physical body composed of the Five Aggregates (form, feeling, perception, mental formations, and consciousness). Those who awaken recognize the pure Dharma body as the Buddha’s Dharma body.

The laywoman asked, “From Mañjuśrī (the Bodhisattva of Wisdom) through the verses transmitted by the Seven Buddhas, the teaching says that all phenomena are like illusions, arising and ceasing in emptiness, and that neither wrongdoing nor merit has a fixed self-nature. After Śākyamuni transmitted the Dharma, however, the teaching turned to the mind-ground, from the Seventeenth Patriarch, Saṅghanandi, onward. After the Twenty-Second Patriarch, Makṣala, it spoke mostly of original nature. The Twenty-Seventh Patriarch, Prajñātāra, and two or three patriarchs in Tang China spoke only of the flower seed. Then Chan Master Caoxi established a different way of teaching. The old monks throughout the land pointed directly, singled out mind and nature, and each revealed the original face. They used all kinds of small images to suggest the great: mountains, rivers, and earth; staffs and fly-whisks; flowers and grasses; lanterns and Buddha halls; walking sticks; clenched fists and shouts. All were used to transmit the Mahayana Buddhist teaching. Why do the teachings from different times appear so contradictory? Are they, in the end, the same or different?”

Shangyangzi replied, “Those who are deluded by the teachings become confused by the Dharma. Those who see their nature may also be confused by the phrase ‘seeing one’s nature.’ The awakened understand that emptiness is not a nihilistic void, and that forms are not truly existent forms. Thus the earlier Kāśyapa said, ‘This body and mind arise through illusion; within illusion, there is no fixed wrongdoing or merit.’ The later Kāśyapa said, ‘Why distinguish between Dharma and non-Dharma within the same Dharma?’ The Eighteenth Patriarch, Gayaśata, said, ‘There are seeds, and there is the mind-ground. When the conditions come together, the seeds can sprout.’ The Twenty-Fifth Patriarch, Vāsiṣṭha, said, ‘I have now awakened to true nature; there is neither a fixed Dao nor a fixed principle.’ The Second Patriarch in the Eastern Land said, ‘There is originally a ground from which things can grow; only by relying on this ground can the seed flower.’

“The Dharma lamp passed down from patriarch to patriarch ultimately comes down to understanding the mind. After the debate over whether the wind moved or the banner moved, different schools gradually took shape, each with its own teachings and forms, continuing down to the present day. Could there be a Mahayana apart from the mind? Could there be a Buddhist Dharma apart from the Mahayana?”

The Great Transmitter asked, “A person is born with a body; after death, the hun and po souls disperse. When there is a body, there is nature; when the souls disperse, nature too is extinguished. This is the natural order. If so…”

The Great Transmission asked, “After a person is born, they have a body; when they die, the hun and po souls disperse. With a body comes one’s nature; when the souls disperse, one’s nature disappears too. This is the natural order. While a person is alive, the body remains and so does the nature, like the fragrance of a flower. When a person dies, the body vanishes and the souls depart, like a leaf falling to the ground. Yet human beings are said to be the most spiritually aware of all creatures. At that point, does a person still have a nature, or not?”

Shangyangzi replied, “In the transformations of Heaven and Earth, those whose minds have not yet awakened, as though wrapped in a shell, belong to the egg-born; those surrounded by afflictions belong to the womb-born; those nourished by the waters of love and desire belong to the moisture-born; and those brought forth through change stirred by afflictions belong to the transformation-born. Each of these four kinds of life has its own category. Foxes and rabbits do not give birth to phoenixes—that much is obvious. The root of human spiritual awareness lies in one’s nature.

“For a person, nature is like flame to fire or bubbles to water. Nature while the body remains is like a flame rising upward; nature after the hun and po souls disperse is like bubbles dissolving back into water. Ordinary people have all lost their true nature. They cycle through rebirth, undergoing countless deaths and births, and then confuse and identify one another, each believing that life has always been this way.

“But the nature of a person who cultivates the Dao is different. It lies beyond the transformations of Heaven and Earth. Though born, it is not constrained by birth; though dead, it is not limited by death. In the end, it is simply this true nature. Guard your nature as you would guard against thieves; honor it as you would worship a Buddha; cherish it as you would protect a treasure. Thus, acting in accordance with nature is called ‘the nature of the Dharma’; taking nature as Buddha is called ‘Buddha-nature.’ If you can see your nature directly, you will reach the state of Buddhahood. Why remain troubled by questions of life and death?

“Longshu, the fourteenth patriarch of Buddhism, said: ‘Buddha-nature is neither large nor small, neither broad nor narrow. It does not depend on merit to bring reward, and it has neither death nor birth.’ Therefore, when you realize that your own nature is beyond life and death, you understand that it is not confined to the hells. Cultivating your own nature enables you to transcend the transformations of Heaven and Earth.”

End of Shangyangzi’s Great Essentials of the Golden Elixir, Volume Fifteen

Shangyangzi’s Great Essentials of the Golden Elixir, Volume Sixteen

Written by Chen Zhixu, Shangyangzi of Zixiao Jiangong, Guanyu

Transcending the Lineage

Seeing One’s Nature and Becoming a Buddha

Shangyangzi says: Before the appearance of King of the Majestic Voice, an ancient Buddha of distant ages in Buddhist tradition, this fundamental matter was neither to the left nor to the right, neither in a remote place nor at the side, neither in the middle nor outside. At that time there was no master and no teaching lineage; the Seven Buddhas had yet to appear, and Maitreya Buddha had not yet been born. This fundamental matter was originally fully revealed, shining so brightly that it illuminated Heaven and Earth.

After a very long passage of time, the Buddhas appeared. Everyone originally possesses this nature, and each person can see it clearly. Yet even now, people have lost sight of their own nature and turn to others for answers. But how could you know what belongs to someone else’s household? Just as others may not know what belongs to yours.

Fortunately, compassionate sages of earlier generations offered guidance to those who came after them, and patriarchs through the ages pointed this matter out directly. The great master Bodhidharma declared, “Directly point to the human mind; see one’s nature and become a Buddha,” urging people to recognize the original mind directly, see their nature, and become Buddhas. Yet later generations strayed ever farther: they paid no attention to everything in their daily lives, right before their eyes, but instead turned things over endlessly in their minds and searched elsewhere, hoping in this way to see their nature and become Buddhas. This is truly regrettable. How could that compare with the Heavenly Teacher—an honorific title for the Buddha—who awakened and became a Buddha as soon as the morning star appeared?

The disciple again bowed and kowtowed, then asked, “It is said that after Śākyamuni was born, he walked seven steps in each of the four directions, pointed one hand to the sky and the other to the earth, and said, ‘In heaven above and earth below, I alone am honored.’ If so, the World-Honored One must have been born knowing everything.”

Shangyangzi smiled and said, “That is not so.” The disciple asked, “May I ask what the truth is?” Shangyangzi replied, “Śākyamuni, the founder of Buddhism and a member of the Gautama clan, attained the Way of the Golden Elixir and realized Buddhahood through cultivation. He became an immortal by cultivating the Golden Elixir, and so is called a ‘Golden Immortal.’ The Golden Elixir refers to two measures of eight ounces each of Xian Qi, which together make sixteen ounces. That is why the Buddha is said to have been one zhang and six chi tall, and is called the ‘Golden Body of One Zhang and Six Chi.’ How could Śākyamuni have become a Buddha naturally, simply by being born?”

The disciple asked again, “Then where did the phrase ‘I alone am honored’ come from?” Shangyangzi said, “It is an expression from Buddhist teaching. Later, Buddhist patriarchs took this phrase as a koan—a Chan saying for contemplation—and called it the Buddha Dharma. In later generations, students of sharp faculties and great wisdom would often raise this koan and contemplate it, using it to illuminate themselves and find their footing, thereby clarifying the mind and seeing their nature. Students inspired one another and gradually awakened; Buddhas and patriarchs appeared in succession, each revealing a different style. Teachings and expressions multiplied, but their meaning remained aligned. For this reason, their meaning cannot be forced into a rational explanation, nor grasped through speculation and discussion alone. Sometimes the small is used to illustrate the great, or the imperfect to illustrate the precious. They do not follow a fixed path, and ordinary instruction can scarcely explain them.

Those of deep faculties understand at a glance. They have no further doubts or astonishment and grasp the true meaning directly—what need have they for words? Those of shallow faculties think hard but find no answer; repeated conjecture is of no use, so they wrongly call these sayings ‘entangling vines,’ words so tangled and complex they are hard to unravel. If asked what ‘entangling vines’ means, they vaguely say it is ‘Chan insight.’ They go round and round without ever investigating the true substance of Buddhist teaching. ‘Entangling vines’ and ‘Chan insight’ are merely empty turns of phrase, metaphors for the Buddha Dharma. Only those of great wisdom can set aside empty talk and understand the truth of the Buddha Dharma. The foolish boast of their eloquence; when they encounter a koan that cannot be explained by ordinary reason, they call it Chan insight. They treat Chan insight as a verbal trick, as if reaching the top of a hundred-foot pole meant there could be no way forward. How could they know where the Buddha Dharma truly lies?”

A disciple asked, “Does Buddhism mean that the World-Honored One (the Buddha Shakyamuni) used kōans to teach, enabling people to understand truths that cannot be put into words, and that this is why it is called Chan insight? Some people treat Chan insight as a kind of speech and believe that, once they reach the top of a hundred-foot pole, they can go no farther. How could such people understand Buddhism?”

The disciple then asked, “Does Buddhism reveal itself to people through miraculous signs, or through visions of divine beings such as the heavenly dragons protecting it?” The reply was, “Neither. These are merely what worldly people call Buddhism. Displaying birth and death, fortune and misfortune, miraculous responses, or retribution in the underworld through extravagant claims does not qualify as true Buddhism.

“True Buddhism manifests only within oneself. Its transformations are swift and boundless; in an instant, it can respond with flexibility and move freely through all things. It enables people to rise above their own faults and to become aware of them. This is true Buddhism. Neither sages nor ordinary people can glimpse its entirety, so how much less could they display it to others? Even the gods who offer flowers cannot approach true Buddhism; neither demonic paths nor heretical schools can secretly spy on it, and naturally the heavenly dragons cannot see it either.”

The disciple said, “If that is so, Buddhism is vast indeed, and only the World-Honored One possesses it.” The reply was, “The World-Honored One has nothing left to cling to as Buddhism. Buddhism lies within each person.” The disciple asked, “Where does a person’s Buddhism lie?” The reply was, “It hangs in the midst of the Great Void, towering like a cliff ten thousand fathoms high. It can neither be seen nor heard.”

The disciple asked, “Does it have miraculous efficacy?” The reply was, “It can display great spiritual powers and pour down an immense Dharma rain. It supports Heaven and Earth and enables people to become Buddhas and immortals. From ancient times to the present, it has held the power over life and death, and in an instant it can bring things into resonance. The Ten Wings, an important set of chapters in the Commentary on the Book of Changes, say, ‘Quiescent and unmoving, it responds and thereby penetrates all things.’ Thus ghosts and spirits dare not spy on it, and evil beings cannot attach themselves to it. As Pozao Duo said, ‘It was originally formed from earth and clay; from where does its numinous power come, and where does its holiness arise?’ If one reflects carefully on these words, are they not evidence of the greatest miraculous efficacy?”

The disciple asked, “What is a person’s own Buddhism?” The reply was, “A person takes their original nature as Buddhism.” The disciple said, “If original nature is Buddhism, then all Buddhas and patriarchs, as well as ordinary people, can become Buddhas simply by seeing their original nature. There would be no need to cultivate the Way of the Golden Elixir.” The reply was, “That is not so.” The disciple asked, “Why?” The reply was, “Ordinary people do not even know what original nature is. How, then, can they speak rashly of the Way of the Golden Elixir?” The disciple said, “Ordinary people indeed do not know original nature, but all Buddhas and patriarchs became Buddhas by seeing their nature.” The reply was, “That is not so either.” The disciple then asked for the reason.

He said, “You do not understand the principle of awakening. Ordinary people remain ordinary because they have not recognized their own nature. The Buddhas and patriarchs became Buddhas because they saw their own nature.”

The other replied, “That is not so,” and asked, “May I ask what the principle is?”

He said, “Do you not know what Bodhidharma, the patriarch of Chan, taught? When Bodhidharma came from the West to China, he relied on no written words. He pointed directly to the human mind, enabling people to see their nature and become Buddhas. Surely this teaching has its own principle. The fundamental matter of the Great Dao cannot be pictured or expressed through speculation and discussion. How, then, could words make it clear? The mind at the heart of a person cannot be heard with the ears or seen with the eyes, so how could it be pointed out directly to someone else? A person’s own nature is the true Buddha. How, then, could one wait to see some particular thing before becoming a Buddha? This is precisely the Dao that Laozi called “contemplating the subtle.”

Thus, Bodhidharma practiced at Changlu and cultivated himself at Shaolin. The essential meaning of the Golden Elixir is the same as Bodhidharma’s teaching of “pointing directly to the human mind.” It is also the central teaching of Shakyamuni’s supremacy; the “True Dharma Eye Treasury, the Wondrous Mind of Nirvana” received by Kashyapa; Mazu’s teaching that “it is neither mind, nor Buddha, nor anything”; and the teachings of the Sixth Patriarch and Yongjia on unbornness and non-attainment. It is also what Pang Jushi awakened to when he “sucked up the waters of the West River in a single breath”; what Yaoshan meant by “not making anything the head”; and what is pointed to by such Chan cases as Danxia burning a wooden Buddha, Shigong using a bow and arrow, and Zhaozhou teaching through a radish, a cypress tree, and drinking tea.

Further examples include Guizong’s saying that “the precelestial is the ancestor of mind”; mountains, rivers, and the earth; staffs and temple poles; shouts and blows; pillars and lanterns; Buddha halls, temple gates, and storerooms; the Vajra King’s jeweled sword; Dongshan’s “three catties of hemp”; Shishuang’s “hundred-foot pole”; Juzhi’s “one-finger Chan”; Huanglong’s “red-and-speckled snake”; Wuke blowing a strand of cloth; Fadeng’s “natural, true Buddha”; Fayan’s seeing through sound and form; Master Si discussing the price of rice; Zun the patched-robed monk; the monk who bathed the Buddha; Xizhong making a chariot; Senior Monk Fu waving a fan; Xuefeng rolling a ball; Yunmen’s sesame cake; the Salt Official’s fan; Qingping carrying earth; Weishan’s dried-up water; Heshan beating a drum; Mimo holding a fork; Xiangyan striking bamboo; Shoushan’s bamboo staff; and Yangshan’s fly whisk. All of these point to the principle of seeing one’s nature.

To go further: the fist above the head, elbows, brows, and eyes; the tip of the nose, grains of rice, and fine threads; nailed shoes and wooden clogs; the clear breeze and bright moon; the morning bell and painted horn; mustard seeds and Mount Sumeru; a round thatched hut and a lacquer bucket; silver mountains and iron walls; tangled vines and cold pines; yellow flowers and green bamboo; dead stumps and dry wood; ancient ravines and cold springs; source and crossroads; winged crows and lion cubs; mighty heroes and ferocious tigers; ox carts and sheep’s horns; dogs and cats; monkeys and shrews—all are Chan cases, words and events used to prompt students to investigate. They are too numerous to list one by one, yet every one points to the essential teaching of seeing one’s nature.

The Master Shangyang said to his disciples again: “The ancestral masters of every age and the worthy predecessors in Buddhism often offered guidance suited to the circumstances. They used all kinds of things as metaphors to show people where their true Buddha-nature resides. They adapted their teaching to different audiences; this is called ‘forming affinities wherever one goes.’ Yet people often add many complications before they have reached direct realization of their own nature. It is like using a net to guide someone across a river without lifting its main cord, or holding a flowering branch used to identify gold without weaving it into the net’s framework. Now I am laying out the essentials plainly.

It is like wind, clouds, thunder, and rain suddenly covering the sky, then clearing a moment later, with the red sun shining overhead for all to see. But I fear that your naturally bright eyes will be obscured, and your wise nature veiled by dust. You toy endlessly with words, heedless of the toll on your spirit and vital energy. In this way you neither understand what is right nor truly cultivate the Way. The days slip by, until in old age you are still making futile efforts. What a pity.

Recently, some people who speak of Chan put on airs of superiority and gather others for question-and-answer sessions, trading verbal barbs while remaining inwardly confused about their own nature. They take quick-witted argument as a skill, and think that remembering many koans—Chan stories and exchanges—means they have attained understanding. Someone holds up one finger, and they answer with two. Someone says “below,” and they guess “above.” Someone says “in front,” and they suspect “behind.” Someone turns and walks away, and they follow. How could such contrived responses reveal the truth? They are merely improvised words to get through the moment. How could they bring one to see one’s nature and clarify the mind?

It is like trying to find something for a deaf person: ask him for a clam, and he brings water; tell him to dismount, and he tightens the reins; point to the ground beneath his feet, and he wanders about picking up bits of grass. It may all seem close to the mark, yet in fact it is far off—the result of a deaf person mishearing and making a forced guess. People today are all endowed with keen understanding, yet they are often misled by what they see before them, making baseless guesses just like that deaf person. How many can avoid taking what is wrong for what is right?

Once more, I will reveal your original face to each of you. This time, do not become another deluded person.”

Chan Master Yuanwu said: “Before a person is born to their parents, they are originally pure and free, without the slightest thing. After birth, they are just as originally pure and free, without the slightest thing. The Buddhas and Patriarchs spoke these words out of compassion, to point people toward the fundamental principle of practice. But when people hear them, they often take ‘empty and unconfined’ to mean a carefree, pleasurable feeling. They do not realize that this is their original face—that is, their ‘nature’ (true nature).

“It is no surprise that people of duller faculties find it hard to understand the principle that, after birth, one is ‘originally pure, with not a single thing established.’ Ordinary people are always bound by their habits and ideas. But why say that, even before being born to one’s parents, one is originally pure, with not a single thing established? Those words have already stated the key completely. A person of keen faculties need only find the point of entry right here and now to understand their meaning.

“I say this not only to raise this topic for you. I also hope that monks in the Chan communities, and everyone in the world who reads The Essentials of the Golden Elixir, will fully grasp a principle that transcends sectarian boundaries. It is like a mirror hanging before you: whether you look at your head, feet, back, or face, you need not seek anything elsewhere; the mirror naturally reflects you.

“Today, many monks living in Chan monasteries do not even understand what Chan is, yet they lead hundreds, even thousands, of people in nothing but dull sitting. At night, the monk on watch strikes them with a Chan staff to punish those who doze. By day, they are hemmed in by rules. How could they have time to clarify the mind and see their nature? If they wear themselves out staying awake at night, how could they recognize the true Buddha? This is a blind man leading a crowd of blind men. Chan Master Dahui once said that some deluded people have no genuine practice beneath their feet; they merely tell others to gather in their thoughts and sit still, until they sit so long that their breathing seems to stop. How pitiable. The Sixth Patriarch also said that sitting upright for a long time and restraining the body is an illness, not Chan.

“Chan Master Shishuang’s hall held more than a thousand people. They sat upright all day, like pieces of wood, and so some called them the ‘wooden assembly.’ One day, when the Tripitaka Master was at Caoxi, he saw a monk sitting in retreat in a hut. He went up to him and said, ‘Even the dullest people in my western homeland do not fall into this kind of view.’

“When Mazu lived in a hermitage on Mount Heng, he sat in meditation every day, hoping to become a Buddha that way. Chan Master Huairang began grinding a brick outside the hermitage. Mazu asked what he was doing, and Huairang said he was grinding the brick into a mirror. Mazu asked how a brick could be ground into a mirror. Huairang replied, ‘Then how can sitting in meditation make you a Buddha?’ Mazu grasped the point of these words at once.

“Once, Xuansha and Xuefeng were discussing the Dharma. Xuefeng said, ‘The ancient mirror is as broad as the world.’ Xuansha pointed to the brazier and asked, ‘How broad is it?’ Xuefeng replied, ‘As broad as the ancient mirror.’ Xuansha then said, ‘The old monk’s heels have not yet touched the ground.’ He meant that Xuefeng’s understanding had not yet reached what was real.

“Since then, some Chan monks have called themselves ‘traveling on foot’ as they wander in search of teachers. They are eloquent, yet do not know where the Dharma truly takes root. They travel through Chan communities until their shoes are worn out, but refuse to recognize their own heels. So where is the place where one’s heels truly touch the ground?

“Out of great compassion, the Buddhas and Patriarchs pointed out all kinds of names for Chan to help people awaken and see their nature. These names include Eastern Chan, Western Chan, Southern Chan, Northern Chan, Perfect-Penetration Chan, Vast-Buddha Chan, Perfect-Learning Chan, True-Buddha Chan, No-Position Chan, Tathagata Chan, Patriarch Chan, Great-Fang Chan, City Chan, Heel Chan, Dragon-Girl Chan, Clam-Shell Chan, Old-Woman Chan, Bride Chan, One-Taste Chan, Finger Chan, Leaky-Skin Chan, Mouth-Drum Chan, and Glass-Bottle Chan. The names are many, but all aim to help people see their own nature as soon as possible.

“Today, some monks use the phrase ‘accepting birth and death, and peacefully entering Nirvana’—the realm beyond birth and death—as an elegant way to describe their life’s work of spreading the Dharma. Anyone with clear eyes would laugh to hear this. Should these monks not feel ashamed? They do not know that, even at the point of Nirvana, a monk must still seek a higher realm from ‘beneath his own heels.’ Others say that when monks receive their Dharma names, only the final character is chosen. Why avoid the earlier characters but not the final one? These people do not understand that the Buddhas and Patriarchs urged people to see their nature; instead, they take the final character as fundamental.

“Some people do not know that ‘nature’ is the true nature already present within the body. They mistake it for opinions and knowledge, just as they take the numinous platform—the seat of the mind—to be the mind-ground, without understanding that the numinous platform itself is nature. Who among the people of the world could be like Chan Master Liang Sui?

“When Liang Sui paid another visit to Magu, he saw his nature on the spot and could no longer conceal it from Magu. After coming out, he said to the assembly, ‘What you know, I know; what I know, you do not know.’ This was because, as people came and went, they were confused and turned upside down amid the objects encountered by the Six Senses (eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind). That is why he said he knew what they knew. What Liang Sui knew was the true Buddha. Since others could not recognize the true Buddha, he said that what he knew, they did not. Have you now recognized the true Buddha? At the time, the disciples were all bewildered and at a loss.”

Shangyangzi said: “Nature is easy enough to see, but people’s capacity for awakening is truly difficult to open. You came to me, and I carefully explained how nature and life are your own being, yet you still do not understand what ‘nature’ is or what ‘life’ means. If you do not experience it for yourself in your own mind, but only turn things over in words and writing, or discuss them with your mouth, what has any of that to do with you?

“I have explained it plainly to you again and again, yet you still refuse to acknowledge it. If I were to overturn the Chan platform, I would go too far. So now I will point out another path you can follow to understand this matter.

“At its heart, this is a method of deliberate practice: a way of cultivation using specific methods and actions. Long ago, the realized being Shang Rong wanted to teach Laozi through such a method. He first showed Laozi the way of softness, sticking out his tongue. Laozi understood at once: the tongue is soft, the teeth are hard. That is the principle of deliberate practice.

“To understand this method, you must grasp the ‘Gate of Sweet Dew’ and the ‘Mechanism of the Lightning Flash’: sweet dew appears like drops of dew, while the lightning flash is swift as a bolt. The World-Honored One, the Buddha, said that worldly things are like dreams, illusions, bubbles on water, and shadows, as well as dew and lightning. These are all aspects of deliberate practice. When ordinary people hear ‘sweet dew’ and ‘lightning flash,’ they think dew and lightning are simply phenomena descending from the sky. They take a dream to mean what one sees while asleep, an illusion to mean something that changes and vanishes, a bubble to mean foam floating on the water, and a shadow to mean an image that appears only when cast by an object. All these interpretations are wrong.

“These claims are no more than groundless guesses and mistaken conjectures; they do not turn inward to seek what is real. The World-Honored One was a great sage. How could he have spoken empty words of no use? Everything he said points to real principles, with the aim of enabling each person to see their own nature. His words are simple, but their meaning reaches far; he uses great things to illustrate what is small. Those of the highest capacity hear one phrase and understand many things. Ordinary people, even after hearing the Buddha speak to the end, instead treat these words as mysterious Chan riddles.”

At that moment, one of the disciples suddenly awakened, as if the bottom had fallen out of a bucket. He clearly saw his own nature and was overcome with joy and astonishment. He immediately stepped forward, prostrated himself, and said, “Please, Master, show compassion: dispel my ignorance and confusion, and explain what is meant by ‘the Buddha who is not a Buddha.’ Tell me what is meant by ‘the Dharma that is not the Dharma.’ After countless kalpas and lifetimes, I have finally encountered such guidance. All my doubts and delusions vanished at once, like a torch lit in darkness, illuminating everything within and without; like looking into water and seeing a reflection, with both above and below in view. This is truly real and rare.”

Shangyangzi knew that the disciple had deep spiritual capacity, and said, “Come, what you have realized is your nature. Your nature is not the nature people usually speak of, and your mind is not the mind people usually speak of. Mind is mind, and nature is nature. Nature is not your mind, and mind is not your nature. Try telling me what your true nature is.”

The disciple answered at once: “As I understand it, nature is what is called nature, and mind is what is called mind. There is no fixed ‘mind’ within the mind, and no fixed ‘nature’ within nature. Nature is not mind, and mind is not nature; nature is not a thought, and a thought is not nature. Nature upon nature is not mind, and mind upon mind is not nature. There is no mind within nature, and no nature within mind. Nature originally has no mind, and mind originally has no nature. When we speak of nature, we mean nature; when we speak of mind, we mean mind. If the mind takes itself to possess some kind of nature, it is not the Buddha-mind; if nature has mind, it is called Buddha-nature. Buddha-nature and my nature are the true nature; my mind and the Buddha-mind are deluded thoughts. When the mind falls into delusion, it cannot see the Buddha; when nature is true, it is the true Buddha. Please, Master, show compassion and further reveal the true and subtle meaning.”

Shangyangzi said: “Your understanding of the Buddha’s teaching has reached only eighty percent. Now I will explain it so that both sides may be brought to completion.

“What is meant by ‘mind’? There are two kinds of mind: the fleshly mind and the mind of empty space. What is the mind of empty space? It is the Vajra Mind, the Nirvana Mind. What is the fleshly mind also called? It is the mind of delusion, the mind of affliction. The thoughts of ordinary people are always attached, and so they create obstacles. When obstacles arise in the mind, conditions cannot unfold smoothly; opportunities are lost, and one continues to revolve through birth and death.

“The Vajra Mind and Nirvana Mind are the mind of empty space, also called the mind of wisdom and the true mind. When people of superior capacity hear this, great wisdom can arise in them, along with courageous and vigorous effort. This is the true Buddha. The mind of the true Buddha is firm and indestructible; it can attain fulfillment and perfection. It is the mind of the true Buddha and the mind of the perfected person, and it cannot be destroyed, even across kalpas.

“By contrast, the mind of an ordinary person competes, craves, and clings. It becomes enamored of forms and colors, is startled by sounds, and endlessly distinguishes right from wrong. The mind of the true Buddha, when confronted with what is seen and heard, remains settled and unmoving. Even the crash of thunder cannot disturb it; how much less could ordinary sights and sounds shake it? Even at the threshold of life and death, it remains settled and unmoving. How, then, could water or fire burn it up or sweep it away?

“This mind of vigorous effort is sharp as a Vajra sword and possesses immense courage and strength. It is also like a hundred-foot pole, straight and unyielding, which no amount of worldly force can break. The gods and human beings of the world rejoice greatly when they witness such effort. Through this effort, one can become a Buddha and a patriarch.

“Why is the Buddha said to be the mind of empty space, and why is empty space called the true Buddha? This mind of empty space is as firm as a sheer cliff. Wisdom and vigorous effort bring sudden understanding of transformation, and so it is called empty space. There is nothing further to pursue ahead, and nothing to cling to behind. Attachment cannot reach it; thought and speech cannot exhaust it. This is the true Buddha, also called the Dharmakaya (the Buddha’s true body).

“Relying on the Dharmakaya and abiding in empty space, one attains complete liberation and freedom, extending throughout the worlds of the ten directions and possessing vast spiritual powers. Hence the invocation: ‘Homage to the eternally abiding Three Jewels throughout the empty space of the ten directions’—the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha, which pervade the ten directions and never perish. Apart from the Three Jewels, there is no Dharmakaya; apart from the Dharmakaya, there can be no understanding. Beyond the Dharmakaya, where else could one seek the mind or one’s nature? If one insists on seeking outward, one will not see one’s nature. Because one cannot see one’s nature, the fleshly mind arises, and the six thieves—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind, which disturb body and mind—begin to run wild. People of the world are thus like someone dreaming within a dream, with no end to their failure to awaken. Only awakening can bring the delusion to an end.

“The mind of the true Buddha is always like one awakening from a dream: its wisdom is clear and bright, and it gives rise to no delusion. Great practitioners take this as the foundation of awakening. Once awakened, there is nothing they cannot understand; after awakening, they must continue to cultivate. When there is great wisdom, the mind is called Buddha. When there is complete awakening, the Buddha is called mind. With great liberation, one transcends the distinction between mind and Buddha. With a great karmic affinity, mind itself is Buddha. Mind is one’s nature, and one’s nature is Buddha. Nature and Buddha are never separate, and so Buddha-nature becomes clearly manifest.”

Master Shangyang said, “One must awaken to one’s own nature for oneself, while the methods for cultivating life must be transmitted by a teacher.” Chan Master Yan said, “Even if you have some understanding, you must meet someone who truly understands in order to confirm it. Without meeting an enlightened teacher, perhaps five out of every ten pairs of eyes will merely be making things up.” Have you not heard the story of Huineng of Mount Lu? One’s nature is Buddha-nature, and Buddha-nature cannot be separated from the Buddha. Only when you see Buddha-nature clearly have you truly understood.

Master Shangyang also said, “One must awaken to one’s own nature for oneself, while the methods for cultivating life must be transmitted by a teacher.” Chan Master Yan meant that after gaining insight, one still needs an enlightened teacher’s guidance; otherwise, it is easy to mistake one’s own imaginings for genuine awakening.

Huineng was a woodcutter from Xinzhou. Near the age of fifty, he heard someone reciting a scripture and suddenly awakened to Buddha-nature. After making arrangements for his mother, he traveled far to Huangmei to visit the Fifth Patriarch, Hongren. After exchanging only a few words, the two found they understood one another well. The Fifth Patriarch assigned him the menial work of pounding rice. Eight months later, Huineng heard Shenxiu’s verse and only then revealed the depth of his insight. The Fifth Patriarch thereupon transmitted the robe, alms bowl, and Buddhist Dharma to him. Huineng received guidance in cultivation but lacked financial support. Later, Shenhui came to his aid, while Liu Zhiliang supported him from outside. Afterward, he lived among hunters in Sihui County, continuing to devote himself to practice.

He cultivated both nature and life: using “Earth” to control “Lead,” then using “Lead” to control “Mercury,” bringing the two together in the Golden Cauldron. These are all metaphors for Neidan (internal alchemy): they refer to harmonizing body and mind and gathering essence and Qi through different stages of cultivation. Later, he went into the mountains to sit in meditation and cultivate himself. Once his practice was complete, he secretly came to Panyu and spoke about the wind and the banner, demonstrating his thorough understanding. In time, he became a great master of his generation. His life resembled that of Bodhidharma.

A disciple asked, “Huangmei had several hundred disciples. Was there not even one among them capable of receiving the transmission of the Buddhist Dharma? Why did the Fifth Patriarch wait until Huineng arrived before passing it on? Was the Fifth Patriarch really like that?”

Master Shangyang replied, “How fortunate the Fifth Patriarch was to meet someone worthy of receiving the Dharma so early. It is hardly the case that not one such person could be found among several hundred. When the World-Honored One, Shakyamuni Buddha, taught at Vulture Peak, five thousand people withdrew. Among those who remained, there may not have been even one who truly understood. Consider how vast the world is today: how many people have truly attained the Buddhist Dharma? This shows just how rare a genuine transmission is.”

After hearing this, the disciple pondered for a moment, bowed twice, and respectfully assented.

Master Shangyang said: How can people who practice today know that, even after receiving instruction, they must endure countless hardships before they can truly achieve anything? The “hardship” spoken of here is unlike what the world calls hardship. What worldly people regard as pleasure, practitioners instead take as a warning; what practitioners regard as gain, worldly people see as loss.

If someone can establish a firm foundation on this path, I dare say that in time they will reach their destination. This shows that they put spirit and Qi to work together and cultivate nature and life in tandem (cultivating spiritual nature and physical life). If realizing one’s nature were enough, why would the Sixth Patriarch, Chan Master Dajian, have gone to Huangmei to seek the Dharma? And why would Chan Master Yongjia have gone to Caoxi to study?

Thus my master, Perfected Zhao, said: Sitting in meditation and entering concentration are practices undertaken only after one has obtained the Pearl of Muni, a precious inner attainment of the alchemical path, and formed the Sacred Embryo, the inner result of alchemical cultivation. This is called “embracing the One and preserving harmony, knowing the white and keeping to the black”: holding fast to the inner foundation so that body and mind return to peace. It is also called sitting upright facing a wall, cultivating Chan and entering concentration; and it is also called refining form into Qi, then refining Qi and returning it to spirit. At this stage, after form and spirit have emerged from the womb and one has become a child of the Buddha, cultivation proceeds at a new level.

Therefore, the Jing of the Jade Emperor’s Collection says: “Suddenly awaken to the true teaching of the Great Vehicle; gradually enter the wondrous Dao of emptiness.” The Way of the Great Vehicle is the Way of the Golden Elixir spoken of here. Bodhidharma said that he saw the signs of the Great Vehicle in the Eastern Divine Land of Red Counties—that is, China—and that it had the conditions for attaining Buddhahood. So, as if aboard a treasure-laden ship, he journeyed for three years and came in search of the Way of the Great Vehicle. From this we can understand that Bodhidharma first came to China because he had realized his nature and obtained the Dharma; in the end, he attained the Elixir, became a Buddha, and returned to the West. This is what is meant by “directly pointing to the human mind, seeing one’s nature and becoming a Buddha.” At that time, the disciples all understood his teaching. They bowed and withdrew, received it with faith, and practiced in accordance with it.