《丹阳神光灿》

Master Danyang’s level of cultivation gives living form to a truth of this kind: the principle lies close at hand, yet people commonly leave what is near and seek what is far; a matter that is easy in itself is willfully taken to be difficult. This is an ordinary condition of the world. To examine it with one’s own eyes, understand it in the heart, and grasp it without many words is the realm to which superior practitioners aspire, and Master Danyang truly attained it.

Drawing on the clear insight of one who knows and awakens before others, he stirred disciples who were dull and gave a deft pointer to gifted students who came after; to those who had not yet understood, he offered still further guidance and explanation. His teaching was like the bright moon flooding the open sky, so that even the finest points stood clearly revealed; it was also like a lamp within the heart, bringing cool relief to every kind of affliction.

He also composed one hundred pieces, Divine Radiance Shining, for people to chant and to turn over in mind again and again, admonishing and encouraging one another. The Master’s wish to teach and transform the world was profound, and his care for people was earnest—just as the bodhi tree spreads cool shade across the vast world, and just as the elixir of prajñā wisdom helps living beings cross the bitter sea of worldly toil and suffering. I venture, in these shallow words, to write a preface for the book.

On the Double Ninth day of the yiwei year of the Dading era (1175), Ning Shichang, the rustic elder of Yunxi, with due care composed this preface.

Composed by Ma Jue of Kunlun.

To the tune Mantingfang: “Establishing the Gate Within”

Hold fast to the guiding aim of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) tradition and to the root of cultivation in purity and stillness. Whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, bring body and mind back to the original source. In daily life, at every moment gather in the mind and Shen (spirit), and keep control of thoughts that scatter and will not settle—what is called the “horse of the will and the monkey of the heart.”

In ordinary dealings, harbor no hatred and cling to no love; when bestowing kindness on others, first set aside the resentments of former days. Practice begins here: harmonize body and mind, repair what has gone astray, and make good the cultivation that is still lacking.

In the depths where auspicious Qi (vital energy) gathers, draw in the “divine water” (a technical term in the practice of Neidan (internal alchemy), referring to the Jing (essence) and Qi, or the fluids, within the body), and let it slowly return to stillness and scatter no more. Slight though the little red-brocade snake may be, one should likewise regard the numinous turtle with quiet composure—the divine tortoise, used in the poem to symbolize a spiritual creature in cultivation. When these two merge into one, primordial nature appears like the rounded full moon. At this point one should reverently honor Master Chongyang (Wang Chongyang) and take him as one’s teacher.

“Mantingfang” is the name of the lyric tune, and “Establishing the Gate Within” is the title of this piece.

One must burn the written oath, carefully swear the covenant, and place observance of the laws of the state foremost. Whether man or woman, one should revere one’s teachers as one reveres one’s parents. Forever renounce the craving for wealth and indulgence in wine and sensual pleasure, cast aside glory and riches, and abstain from meat and pungent foods. Always preserve purity and stillness; treat others with humility, harmony, and respect; form no factions and show no partiality. Live a plain and simple life; if poverty and hunger come, one must be prepared to stretch out a hand and beg for food in the streets. One must neither covet wealth nor lie and deceive others, still less pretend to be a person of lofty wisdom and worth. Remain cautious throughout, as steadfast as when the oath was first sworn; when peril arises, hold all the more firmly to one’s original resolve. If one falls back and loses the heart of the Dao (the Way), one willingly accepts that the body be cut into ten thousand pieces and that one sink forever into the Yellow Springs.

Before the Perfected Chongyang’s Ascent in the Rosy Clouds

Master Chongyang (Wang Chongyang, founding patriarch of the Daoist school of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection)) met the Perfected Lü (Lü Dongbin) and through cultivation realized the inner Shen (spirit). Filled with compassion, the Master would not rest; he widely proclaimed the causes of goodness and taught people to cultivate. Whatever peril one meets, one must grow still more resolute; if one falls back and loses the heart of the Dao, one willingly accepts that the body be sundered into ten thousand pieces and that one sink forever into the Yellow Springs.

Before the Perfected Chongyang’s Ascent in the Rosy Clouds

Master Chongyang met the Perfected Lü and realized the inner spirit. With unceasing compassion he spread his teaching far and wide, helping people leave delusion and find their way out of hardship. He often appeared in dreams or while roaming in spirit, to instruct the people of the world. North of Dengzhou, someone once saw the cloth-robed Wang manifest; he also once rose bodily from the sea. In the outskirts of Dongmou, a man of the Gao family, outstanding in talent and learning, beheld his true countenance. He once met Needle Li of Nanjing, and once gathered for a banquet in the Central Capital. Even while he still dwelt in the ordinary world he had already manifested many times, and the deeds were this extraordinary; how much more so now that he has cast off the mortal body and long abides at peace in the realm of Everlasting Spring.

After the Perfected Chongyang’s Ascent in the Rosy Clouds

While still alive, Master Chongyang foretold that he would go to Nanjing; later he did indeed proceed to Pengying (the legendary realm of the immortals). He abandoned the ordinary body, a provisional compound of the Four Great Elements, and his true nature ascended. He once appeared beside Xunyi Bridge and urged Lord Zang to begin cultivation early. He left this teaching: the cultivation of nature and life is the foremost matter; do not contend for fame and profit. Xue the Elder of Danzhou also met him on Mount Zhongnan and saw him with perfect clarity. After the three elders Liu, Jiang, and Zhang received the elixir medicine, their bodies were sound and at ease. West of Kunming Pool, someone likewise saw him lightly waving his sleeves in the air. Having attained the Dao, he became an immortal and long enjoys life.

Verses in Harmony on the Passing of the Shishu

Master-Uncle Hegong (Hegong, a Daoist elder of the generation of masters’ uncles) suddenly awakened to the opportunity of cultivating the Dao (the Way). He resigned his official post, returned his seal of office, and set aside rank and power. Leaving the dust of the world behind, he came to Mount Zhongnan and, together with the two elders Jiang and Zhang, obtained the medicine and practiced cultivation, so that his body grew sound and well. Later someone saw him west of Kunming Pool, lightly waving his sleeves and dancing in the air. Hegong thereby attained the Dao and became an immortal, long enjoying the fullness of life.

In Praise of Master-Uncle He’s Departure from the World

Master-Uncle Hegong suddenly realized the opportunity of cultivating the Dao, resigned office and returned his seal, and laid down his position of authority. Withdrawing from worldly dust, he built a thatched hut at the foot of Mount Zhongnan, wore clothing of hemp and a jacket of paper, and was content with a quiet, leisurely life, finding ease and contentment among the mountain forests and springs. He possessed a precious attainment in cultivation, yet he concealed his radiance and lived in seclusion without display for more than twenty years.

Why did Shantong (the author’s name for himself) serve him? Because he had met Fengxian (a Daoist immortal) and had once heard Fengxian speak of true immortals. When Master-Uncle He departed this world, the scene was indeed out of the ordinary: auspicious vapors rose and filled the room. Many years later he suddenly vanished into the air, leaving behind only the painting Fishing and verses of poetry for me. He specially warned me not to miss the opportunity of cultivating the Dao, and not to speak boastfully of mysterious things.

An Apology to Ritual Master Wang of Xianyang

After Shantong entered the Dao, he left his former life behind and devoted himself single-mindedly to cultivation. The heart of cultivation is to let the restlessness in body and mind gradually subside, and to nurture the inner Qi (vital energy) of peace. Unexpectedly, over a matter of borrowed lodging, I fell slightly short of my master’s wishes and stirred up trouble, damaging the merit of my cultivation; in foolish anger and perverse conduct, I even wrote a poem mocking my master.

I suddenly recalled the vow I had made before: to liken myself to a donkey, an ox, an elephant, and a horse, willing to be driven and put to use by others. Regret now comes too late, and I can only follow the example of Lian Po (the Warring States general who carried thorns on his back to beg forgiveness), making a special journey with a thorn rod on my back to atone. I earnestly beg my master to chastise me severely, so that I may be tempered by the ordeal, no longer lose my true nature, and thus avoid being judged again by King Yama in time to come.

A Letter Inviting Master Yao

Shantong bows in reverence to Immortal Yao (Master Yao). Since we parted, I have missed you, and the days have seemed especially long. Now the rain has passed and the sky has cleared; clear Qi spreads everywhere, moistening the fields where the zhi herb grows. May the divinities protect you, so that you may rest in ease, with body and mind light and free.

As always, I am grateful for your constant concern and for the letters that pass between us. I now have one small request: I hear that Immortal Tan is about to depart and has invited me to go along, riding off with light grace upon an immortal crane. If you could come to visit, bringing the light of the clouds, I would be grateful beyond measure. Certain matters of leisure I will speak of in detail face to face when you arrive; I will not set them out at length in this letter.

Before the jade thrones of the wondrous immortal realms of Shangqing, Yuqing, and the like, Shantong bows to you.

My thoughts often turn to you, and our letters pass back and forth without cease. Each time we write, you always urge me with earnest words. I have heard that Immortal Tan has already departed, and at the place of our meeting white cranes seem to come fluttering down. If you could ride the clouds and bear your light here to visit me, the gratitude in my heart would truly be beyond words. Those small matters we spoke of in our idle dwelling I shall pour out face to face when the worthy one arrives; I will not set them out at length in this letter. Shantong (the author’s self-designation) knocks his head in reverence before the Jade Throne of the Upper Mystery and the Mystery within Mystery.

Letter to Master Dong of Maxing Street

Shantong knocks his head in greeting. Venerable Master Dong Daowei (an honorific for Master Dong): since we parted, three years have passed without my hearing your pure and refined discourse. My longing for your De (Virtue/Power) cannot be fully conveyed by brush and ink or by words. I trust that of late your sacred person is well, your mind ever more at peace, and that quiet retirement at home brings you no disturbance. You now rest securely within your enclosing walls, calm and self-possessed; there is no need to worry on my account. If a convenient journey should pass this way, please bring along my unrestrained poems and letters together. The years rush swiftly by, ceaseless as flowing water. The cultivation of body and mind, and the awakening to nature and life, ought to be brought to completion as soon as possible. I offer this prayer in all sincerity, and I ask you to forgive my presumption in writing. Shantong bows in presentation to Venerable Master Dong Daowei and to all our fellow companions of the Dao (the Way).

Presented to Liu Shouchu

In the life of one who cultivates the Dao, it is best to speak but little; clarity, stillness, and ease are what is most precious. Do not cling or become entangled, and do not be troubled by attachment or by worldly affairs. Roam free and unfettered, as if dwelling amid water and cloud, letting east and west come and go while sun and moon race swiftly past. When you wish to wander, take up a bamboo staff and straw sandals, a rain hat on your head and a straw cape over your shoulders. However far, to the ends of the sky and the corners of the sea, walk lightly in every direction, singing aloud as if dazed or drunk. Though outwardly unrestrained and unconventional, inwardly you nurture a peaceful Qi (vital energy). If one day the divine elixir is refined, it will send forth ten thousand rays of rosy light. Then you will pay homage to Fengxian (an honorific for an immortal perfected one in Daoism) and ascend straight to Daluo (the highest celestial realm spoken of in Daoism).

Presented to Official Zhu: Zhang’s Letter and Memorial

Listen, all of you: the capital—the immortal realm in the heart of one who cultivates the Dao (the Way)—has always lain within oneself, and Pengying (Penglai, Yingzhou, and the other immortal realms) is likewise hidden in the elixir furnace. Five-colored auroral light shines above and below, and within it people come and go, ascending in flight. Whoever understands a life spent in the company of waters and clouds need no longer toil across mountains and streams. Hold fast to the root of nature and life, and every affliction can be resolved one by one—what then remains worth contending over? In doing good, consider others first and oneself afterward; preserve clarity, stillness, and emptiness, and nurture the numinous clarity within the heart. In meeting the things of the world, maintain true constancy and ease, and let one’s bearing remain peaceful. Once cultivation is complete, one may go in audience before Yuanshi Tianzun (the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning), one’s steps like clouds, the body light and free. Reaching the realm of thorough awakening, one becomes like Master Chongyang, transcending birth and extinction.

Presented to Cuan Gong

With hair unkempt and a face covered in dust and grime, one conceals any reputation for profound methods of the Dao, devoting oneself wholly to nourishing Shen (spirit) and regulating Qi (vital energy), and forgetting the bodily form. Not a single worldly thought clings to the heart; intention is still, and the mind is bright. Wandering free and at ease, finding joy in oneself, one grasps the mysterious and subtle principle and cultivates in pursuit of long life. A clear, still, and leisurely life surpasses being trapped in the dusty world as in a burning house, and in the sea of suffering and the pit of grievance. One reclines to watch the bright moon, sleeps beside clouds and rosy mists, and comes to understand the turning of the Northern Dipper; one harmonizes dragon and tiger—symbols, in the practice of Neidan (internal alchemy), of Yin-Yang, water and fire, and kindred powers—and cultivates by means of the infant and the maiden, Neidan terms for the yin and yang Jing (essence) and Qi within the body. One circulates the true Qi in the body, setting the essence, fine as gold and jade, flowing in motion, and transforming it within the deep and mysterious. A single point of numinous light appears in its coming and going, revealing the wondrous form of the primordial beginning, and body and mind grow light and numinous. Riding the luan and the feng, one advances along the road toward the immortal realm of Pengying.

Presented to Quan Zhiwei

Why cut oneself off from profit and office, and forget fame and reputation? Because one has once beheld and awakened to the True Forms of the Five Peaks—the sacred forms of the Five Marchmounts, or Fulu (talismans and registers). Original nature is as pure as pearl and jade, as a seal of trust, bright in its radiance. From this, seeing through the body that is only borrowed for a time, the heart may become like dead ashes, no longer exhausting the spirit on worldly life. Having found the path of liberation, one fears only that the single point of numinous light may stray into delusion. Cutting away dependence and craving, one seeks the mysterious and subtle, and within emptiness finds a truth on which one may rely. The mind grows still, clear, and lucid, entering a realm of profound quiet. When cultivation is accomplished, and one has passed through the “seven returns and nine reversals”—a Neidan term for the stages and transformations in refining the elixir—one dons immortal robes, light as a crane’s feather. One goes to pay homage to Yuanshi Tianzun, setting one’s course toward Yaotai and Langyuan, immortal realms of legend, and travels borne upon the clouds.

Presented to Master Luo and the Two Masters Liu and Shi

All who cultivate the Dao (the Way), do not pursue the strange and the fantastical. You need only follow the natural course of things, neither acting recklessly nor contending with others. In the Hundred Not-Songs there is a four-line gatha (a brief verse expressing the essentials of practice), and what it speaks of is precisely the keeping of the precepts (observing the disciplinary rules of cultivation). Those who cultivate the Way should let body and mind rest as settled as a figure carved of wood or molded of clay, unshaken by a thousand demonic obstacles and ten thousand hardships. One must endure often, and endure to the very end.

Thoroughly comprehend and contemplate the Way of Heaven, act in accordance with it, and grasp what is essential in it, and Yin-Yang will of itself come into harmony, while the myriad things meet in peaceful concord. Abide constantly in what is true and everlasting; at every moment respond to things without losing that constancy. The mind within remains ever still, and true nature is ever present. From this one gains genuine joy and happiness, manifests Suchness (the true nature that is not false), and transcends the Three Realms (the Realm of Desire, the Realm of Form, and the Formless Realm). True nature will not be destroyed; it never perishes.

To Fellow Practitioners Recorder Duan, Assistant Instructor Sun, and Others

All who cultivate the Way, please listen a moment to what I have to say. Cultivating the Dao is like walking a tightrope or treading a high pole, and like riding a horse or traveling by boat—which of these is not an arduous and genuine trial? When hardship comes, one’s resolve must instead grow still firmer. Forget the danger, and forget your own life; no longer worry over the past or the future. Pay no heed to the cold laughter of others, and remain throughout single-minded and careful in your practice. Even if Su Qin and Lu Jia (historical figures renowned for their eloquence) were to come and urge you, they could not make you change your mind. If a person can turn wholly toward the Dao with such single-heartedness, they can find true principle, wondrous principle, and mysterious principle. Since one will in the end come to awakening, why worry that one cannot cultivate immortality?

Presented to Wang Zhixuan

Look at those people bound in shackles, locked in ceaseless strife among husband, wife, and concubines. Though they think themselves clever and quick-witted, they are still driven by wayward thoughts. Fame and profit are as trifling as a snail’s horn or a fly’s head, yet they leave one startled and troubled by favor and disgrace. Consider this: after you take off your shoes and go to bed at night, what will happen by morning, and who can foresee it? When even a single night of life cannot be guaranteed, what is there still to contend over?

Better to keep company with Shantong Ma Yu (Ma Yu, whose Daoist name is “Shantong”), and roam free and at ease beneath the pine peaks, dancing in drunkenness and singing without restraint. With a qin across your knees, its tones clear, mellow, and harmonious, you refine and nurture in the elixir furnace the Great Medicine (the coalescence of Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) sought in Neidan (internal alchemy)), manifest the Embryo Immortal (the immortal body in Neidan that symbolizes transformation through emergence from the embryo), and move in a graceful dance. When that time comes, you may pay reverence to the Wind Immortal and together ascend to Daluo Heaven (the supreme immortal realm spoken of in Daoism).

Zang, Liu, and Elder Shi Present a Stone Sheep and Request a Lyric

Uprooting mountains and hoisting tripods, shooting tigers and piercing the willow—these forms of worldly courage, strength, and skill can hardly compare with circulating and transforming as freely as the Azure Sheep. Once one realizes the still deeper mystery within the mysterious, the mind grows open and expansive, and one naturally becomes as if entranced and intoxicated. Keeping far from the give-and-take of human feeling, one is not entangled by disturbance; dwelling in a plain little hut, one draws in one’s light and conceals one’s traces—why seek, beyond that, to have one’s name blazoned forth?

May everyone be as I am: cultivating inwardly, living a life of wandering the four quarters, easy and unconstrained. Metal and Wood move with the current of Water, and the firing gradually grows vigorous. This is the battle of Tiger and Dragon (the joining and transformation of Yin-Yang Qi (vital energy) within the body): it sends forth the pearl of Shen (spirit), which condenses into pure essence. When that time comes, one mounts the cloud carriage and returns, to pay homage together to Chongyang (Wang Chongyang, founding patriarch of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school of Daoism).

Suddenly one breaks free of the bitter sea of the secular world and turns with a single mind toward the mysterious Dao (the Way), placing the clarity and stillness of Quanzhen first of all. No deliberations are kept in the heart; one forms no faction and shows no partiality. Within emptiness one savors a refined pleasure, holds to pure poverty, and passes the days as conditions allow. A natural principle such as this, from ancient times to the present, few have been able to explain clearly. Only the descendants of Shenxi can take it up and comprehend it; within the human body it is originally complete, whole and perfect. The numinous turtle at the bottom of the sea opens its numinous mouth and draws in the numinous spring; numinous light then surges up to the Crimson Watchtower (a symbolic palace within the body) and congeals into a fresh Golden Elixir (the essence condensed in Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation). Reaching the realm of neither birth nor extinction, one pays homage to Fengxian together with Shantong.

Do not boast of high station, and do not flaunt glory and splendor; worldly affairs are impermanent, and in the turn of an eye they move one to sigh. Do not chase after fame and profit, letting them become bonds. One should carry on the aspiration with which Fengxian (Ma Yu, whose Daoist title is Danyangzi) awakened to the Dao, cast off worldly attachments, and set out on the way of the immortals. Make a lasting vow, refine the mundane mind until it is as pure as jade, and thoroughly remove even the slightest flaw.

Daily life is sustained only by begging for food; simple and plain, one lives a free life of wandering. Wherever one may be, one keeps to clarity and stillness, and the Yellow Sprout is constantly preserved in the heart (in Neidan cultivation, the Jing (essence) and Qi that symbolize vital growth at its first arising). Within emptiness the practice is brought to completion; passing through the nine reversals (in Neidan cultivation, a way of describing how the method advances stage by stage), one manifests the Embryo Immortal (the immortal body attained when cultivation succeeds), and Numinous Cinnabar appears in the hands (symbolizing the elixir that has been refined). At that time one strolls together with Shantong amid mist and roseate clouds.

Beneath the pine peaks one leisurely drinks the daogui (the implement used in Daoist elixir-refining or in taking medicine, which may also refer to the elixir itself), and offers up such immortal spirit-fruits as fire-jujubes and joined pears. When the zither of the heart is plucked, the luan and the immortal cranes seem to fly and dance along with it. Tiger and Dragon roar together, and this is said to be the pivotal moment of return; the Six Thieves (three kinds of thieves of desire or of the senses that disturb body and mind) and the Three Corpses (the foul, harmful things which Daoism says lodge in the human body and obstruct cultivation) thereupon appear as well. Yin demons, roseate clouds.

Beneath the pine-forested peaks, one leisurely drinks the “daogui” (a term, in the self-cultivation of the Dao (the Way), for a small quantity of elixir or for the refined essence gained through practice) and tastes such numinous fruits of the immortals as fire-dates and joined pears. When one plays the zither within the heart, luan birds and cranes fly up and down. Dragon and tiger roar together; this, it is said, is in order to drive out the “six thieves” (the six sensory desires that disturb mind and spirit) and the “three corpses” (the foul, impure spirits which, as Daoism teaches, lie hidden in the body and obstruct cultivation). The yin demons disperse; heaven and earth grow clear, bright, and still, and the radiance of sun and moon shines bright.

One circulates the golden light and jade Qi (vital energy) within the body, gathers auspicious smoke and propitious Qi, and condenses them into the “true infant” (in cultivation, the pure primordial Shen (spirit)). Clad in immortal robes and treading the rose-glow of the clouds, one declares aloud neither birth nor extinction, points toward Pengying (the legendary realm of the immortals), and says that by this road one may return. These are the essentials of Daoist cultivation, now spoken so that people may know them.

Presented to Master Xu of Chang’an

Once the mysterious and subtle principle has been understood, the two luminaries, sun and moon, conjoin in their palace stations; one then investigates to the utmost the Three Powers (heaven, earth, and humanity) and the Four Images (Yin-Yang and their transformations), and sees clearly where the working of the myriad things runs free and where it is blocked. Five-colored roseate light circulates back and forth, and a fine rain like sweet dew drifts softly down. The six desires and seven emotions are washed entirely away; the movement of Qi within the body is like thoroughfares open in all eight directions, flowing and turning. Within the nine orifices, the movement of Yin-Yang Qi is reversed and transformed, and the true efficacy of cultivation appears.

The sky of the ten directions (the ten extremes) is clear and limpid, empty, bright, and pure; the ninefold gates open, and within them, layer upon layer, precious gold and jade appear. In a grotto-palace like glass of eight colors, the reclining tiger lies still and the hidden dragon sleeps in peace. The flowers of the seven treasures bloom, their six petals distinct; the Qi of the five quarters gathers, and the four directions return to the source. The three lights (sun, moon, and stars) shine; the Two Instruments (Yin-Yang) comply with one another; and at last there appears a single divine immortal elder.

Presented to Senior Brother Jiang

Keeping to the daily practice, sitting in meditation, worshipping the God of the Soil, and chanting the Jing (scripture/classic); feeding on the roseate mists and abstaining from grain (a Daoist method of cultivation in which one ingests the Qi of the mists and cuts off the five grains), and in addition reading scriptures; concentrating on methods such as talisman water and visualization—these too weary the body, with repeated swallowing and the moving of Qi. Many people are infatuated with the arts of the bedchamber, and also rely on taking medicines of return to the origin and on regulating water and fire in order to cultivate. It is not that one would blame these various methods; it is only to say that if one takes them as the root of practice, one will go in the wrong direction.

If one awakens to the great Dao of Wuwei (non-action), one should cut off conditioned grasping and clinging, thoughts of craving and love, and worldly emotions such as joy and anger. When mind and intention are quiet and clear, Jing (essence) and Qi are stored away in secret, the movement of Qi condenses, and Shen is held to a single point. In this way one naturally settles one’s nature and gives one’s life a secure place, gives rise to true compassion, and brings merit and cultivation to completion together. At that time the golden lad comes bearing the summons and is able to take you, riding the clouds and astride a phoenix, to the immortal realm of Pengying.

Presented to All Daoist Friends

The mind is still and clear; Jing and Qi are stored away in secret; the movement of Qi condenses; and Shen is held to a single point. In this way one naturally settles one’s nature and gives one’s life a secure place, gives rise to true compassion, and brings merit and cultivation to completion together. The golden lad comes bearing the summons and takes you, riding the clouds and astride a phoenix, to the immortal realm of Pengying.

Sensual desire and money cling to a person like lacquer and glue; to clear them away completely is truly no easy thing. What is more, there is still the rein of reputation, and the lure of profit is hard to shatter. All day one worries over sons and daughters—when has the brow ever relaxed for a moment? The household is like a courtyard of fire, trapping a person inside, as if one were being scorched.

If one can realize how urgent impermanence is, one ought firmly to let go, all at once, of affection and the dusty ties of the world. To rise above the secular and cultivate body and mind in free and easy ease—that is true intimate companionship. In daily life keep the mind lucid and the thoughts quiet; watch the cloud-billows surge and roll, and sense the inner movement of Qi (vital energy), roaring like dragon and tiger. The light of Shen (spirit) shines forth in splendor, revealing one’s original face, which even Heaven and Earth can scarcely contain.

Addressed to Master Du of Xingping

The stars shift and the four seasons succeed one another, yet people seldom pause to reflect. In childhood one is muddled and unknowing, and before one notices, one has gradually grown old. Wine and sensual pleasure, temper, and wealth have all been gone through; it is best to draw the mind back in, and one ought also to renounce and let go. Turn back quickly, and see properly to the original work of cultivating the Dao (the Way).

I urge you to begin cultivation at once, lest you meet dangers hard to foresee, or even ghost-messengers come to summon you. You should early keep company with the fellow cultivators Qiu, Liu, Tan, and Ma, and stand aloof beyond the mundane world. To cultivate along the path of a stilled mind and a clarified intention is the farther shore that leads to long life. The light of Shen shines in splendor; mounting a blue luan, one departs, and Heaven and Earth cannot restrain one.

Admonishing Friends in the Dao

Cherish, as one’s companions, friends in the Dao who stand beyond material things. The path of a stilled intention and a clarified mind is called the farther shore leading to long life. The light of Shen shines in splendor; mounting a blue luan, one departs, and Heaven and Earth cannot restrain one.

Admonishing Friends in the Dao

To dote on wives and concubines and worry over sons and daughters heaps the heart with a thousand tangled cares. Rushing about to contend for fame and chase after profit—when has one ever paused? It is like bees gathering flowers to brew honey: in the end, who enjoys the sweetness, and who labors alone? If a person goes about in a daze, it is like a moth flying into the flame—truly all too foolish.

I petition on high the Venerable Lord—an honorific in Daoism for a revered deity: when you are sunk in a pit of fire, who will trouble to take pity on you? Everyone urges you to cling to carnal desire, yet those who enjoy wealth and rank are other people. At the hour of death, no one is willing to bear it in your place. I hope you will turn back and awaken quickly. Turn toward what lies beyond the world, and rest securely in Wuwei (non-action) and pure stillness: this alone is the path to becoming an immortal.

Addressed to Sun Kedao of Lingkou

The illusory body is nothing more than a walking skeleton, a moving mound of earth. Reckoned up, what glory does it hold that is worth showing off? You were born of your parents, and your parents are precisely the starting point of the causes and conditions of your life and death. I urge you to see through all this at once: what can come of clinging to children and grandchildren? Turn back early, set aside family attachments, and cultivate the great Dao (the Way) beyond the secular world.

Wuwei (non-action) and pure stillness—following what is natural, refraining from reckless action, and maintaining stillness—are the secret of immortal cultivation and the subtle mystery of the great Dao. Cultivating in accordance with this, why seek anything further outside the body? In this way, the mercury and lead within the body, symbols of the Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) of Yin-Yang, readily congeal, and the Nine-Times-Reverted Elixir—a term in Neidan (internal alchemy) signifying that the elixir has been completed—can be refined within a few days. Divine light shines in splendor; mounting a feathered wheel and driving an immortal carriage, one flies straight into Yingzhou, a legendary immortal mountain in the sea.

Everyone who studies the Dao should, in due order, understand this: there is no need to seek anything further outside the body. In this way, the mercury and lead within the body readily congeal, and the Nine-Times-Reverted Elixir can likewise be refined within a few days. Divine light shines in splendor; mounting a feathered wheel and driving an immortal carriage, one flies straight into Yingzhou.

Everyone who studies the Dao should first understand the sequence of practice: at the outset, set aside wife and household and cultivate the Dao alone; next, leave home and beg for food, attaining freedom from contrivance and accordance with what is natural. On meeting the elderly or children, one should first treat them with courtesy. Practice good deeds widely, and let every thought and every action be compassionate moment by moment. Draw in your sharp edge, restrain overbearing force, and endure humiliation; do not give rise to thoughts of clinging to external things or craving affection. In this way the mind will gradually grow clear and lucid and come into accord with the great Dao.

The red dragon of the mountains, symbolizing Yang Qi or mercury, coils about, and the black tiger of the sea, symbolizing Yin Qi or lead, joins with it. Once the great elixir has been refined, one may head toward Penglai and Yingzhou and depart riding auspicious clouds.

Zhao Baoxuan keeps far from the secular world and does not covet glory or wealth. He rests content and seeks nothing else. His heart dwells in leisure; he transcends the world and lives a life apart. Cultivating through Wuwei and pure stillness, he naturally congeals a subtle and wondrous Neidan. The Dantian (energy center)—the site indicated in Neidan practice within the human body—is full and replete, as if white snow and yellow sprouts filled it completely.

Within the Dantian, the Qi of true Yang is forged without cease, transforming the original root of life into spirit cinnabar, an image of the elixir in Neidan practice. From this one comes to behold a true nature that is transparent and perfectly complete, pure as jade and without flaw. When the work of cultivation is entirely fulfilled, one may seek out Pengying and walk step by step into the immortal realm of mist and roseate clouds. When body and mind return to a state of emptiness and lucid clarity, golden lads and jade maidens come to welcome him into the realm of the immortals.

The life of Daoist cultivation is free and open, as plain as wearing a straw rain cape. Whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, one can rest at ease. One comes to know the joy within honest poverty and thoroughly clears away all doubt. The days pass in carefree ease, drifting like clouds upon the water and ranging to the ends of the earth. With nothing weighing on the heart, one comes and goes at leisure—what place is there that must serve as a final home?

Grasp the subtle principle and remove the illness within the heart; cultivation is like calling in a skilled physician to treat disease. Who could believe that a man, too, can “conceive” in the course of practice? It is truly beyond belief. When the movement of Qi (vital energy) gathers, the spirit becomes wholly concentrated, and the root of life settles into calm, an immortal embryo is nurtured—a symbol of the changes of body and mind in cultivation—and one passes beyond the limits of the dusty world that Mount Jiuyi represents. Then appears the bearing of one who pays homage to the Primordial Beginning and returns to the realm of the immortals.

Last night in a dream I was fortunate to meet Chongyang (Wang Chongyang, founding patriarch of the Quanzhen [Complete Perfection] school of Daoism), who transmitted to me a secret immortal formula. That realm was deep, dark, and obscure, hazy and hard to discern, and Taibai (the planet Venus) shone with a yellow light. This is the color of the “daogui” (in Daoist cultivation, a name for the immortal medicine, or for the method of ingesting it). It circulates within the body, and when drunk it is like jade nectar. Refined into an elixir the size of a pellet, a single dose can set all eight vessels of the body at peace and in free flow.

Carry it with you, and it is as if you have gained a sharp precious sword. It sends forth a radiance that brightly illumines the “Mingtang” (in Daoist internal refinement, a particular site within the body). Evil spirits and demons take fright and hide far away. The practitioner naturally gives birth to an immortal child (a transcendent spirit symbolizing attainment in cultivation), mounts a blue phoenix, and sets out for the immortal realm of Penglai. These subtle principles, shown to fellow practitioners, should all be carefully pondered.

I, Ma Yu, known as Shantong (Shantong is Ma Yu’s sobriquet), compose poems and lyrics in my leisure, not in order to boast or show off my skill. I see the people of the world living in the “fire courtyard” (a metaphor for worldly life filled with affliction and desire), suffering hardship, and I cannot bear it. So I often write poems and lyrics to exhort and transform others, offering a sincere heart and making clear the path that leads to the subtle realm.

I urge them often and earnestly, hoping that everyone will turn back and awaken, and that each will heed the counsel. One must cut the reins and ties of passion and desire, turn toward the realm beyond the dusty world, and no longer be dragged, bound, or afflicted. Free and pure, one cultivates in peace and joy and completes the cultivation of nature and life. One day, when merit is accomplished and practice is fulfilled, a golden lad (an attendant in the immortal realm) will open the gate of the subtle and come to welcome and invite you.

Yet this, of all things, is what no one is willing to do. If one thereby loses the chance to become an immortal, whom else can one blame?

Musing unhurriedly: the sons and daughters of a household—where did they dwell before they were born? What bonds of kinship and loving affection do they share with you, that it should be worth remaining long in their company? Life and death cannot stand in for each other; why toil so hard on their behalf? If you can awaken, you should decide at once, break off this attachment, and depart with a sweep of the sleeve. Let yourself wander as freely as drifting clouds and flowing water, unbound by any tie, and you will naturally forget the calculating mind and cut off stray thoughts. The strings within the heart sound again and again, as if the Lovely Maiden and the Infant—the Yin-Yang Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) of Neidan (internal alchemy)—were singing and dancing. Dragon and Tiger, symbols of the Yin-Yang Qi within the body, coil together and form the Golden Elixir, the Jing and Qi brought to completion through Neidan, so that the realm of awakening opens still wider. Accumulate hidden De (Virtue/Power), cultivate merit, and practice the Dao (the Way); when the work reaches fulfillment, the true master will come to receive and guide you.

Presented to Mr. He, the Dyer of Chunhua

The labor of a cloth-dyeing household sets me reflecting at leisure. Let me speak of some rights and wrongs of principle; please listen. It stirs the Lovely Maiden and the Infant to sing and dance; Dragon and Tiger coil together, form the Golden Elixir, and open the realm of awakening still wider. Accumulate hidden De, cultivate merit, and practice the Dao; when the work reaches fulfillment, the true master will come to receive and guide you.

Presented to Mr. He, the Dyer of Chunhua

The labor of a cloth-dyeing household sets me reflecting at leisure. Let me speak of some rights and wrongs of principle; please listen. Silks and satins are gathered into the hands and heaped until a zeng—the vessel used for steaming and dyeing—is full. Why dye them so deep and so thoroughly? It is only from cherishing their color that one takes such pains. Once the cloth is dyed, it must still be rolled, pressed, and polished smooth, in the sole hope that it will be bright and lustrous. Countless measures of water and slurry are poured out; when someone comes to collect the goods, they should step forward and claim them. Undo the flaws and the tangles, and original nature can naturally come into view. Cultivation is the same: if one is not hindered by clinging and entanglement, one can see true original nature. Constantly guard clarity and stillness, and the light of Shen (spirit) will shine forth in brilliance.

Sent to Mr. Zhang of Xingping

Awakening with transcendent ease to the great Dao, and gladly casting aside the worldly life—how could one consent to sink once more into ordinary affairs as into mud and water? One turns back decisively and leaves the mountain of kindness and affection, the prison of love and desire. One may then keep company with the clear wind and the bright moon, and follow companions of the Dao amid the clouds and rosy mists. Free of fetters, one can first enjoy, even in the human world, a blessing like that of a half-immortal. Going further into true cultivation and true refinement, one can roam at ease, clarify and purify mind and Shen, and dispel desire. Gradually one senses a rare fragrance rising from the lingzhi and the herbs of the immortals in the fields beside the stream. Where do Dragon and Tiger coil? Within the elixir furnace they are transformed into gold and jade. The light of Shen shines brilliantly as one sets out for the precious ground of the immortal realm of Penglai.

Presented to Zhao Sanxian of Ruche

Do not speak only of the method of rinsing and swallowing, nor only of preserving Shen (spirit) and of visualization; swallowing the rosy vapors and ingesting Qi (vital energy) are likewise all in vain. In seated practice, deliberately drawing in the hands and twisting the feet only wearies the body. Gathering Yin to supplement Yang, and refining the divine elixir, cause Jing (essence) and Qi to scatter and be lost. Taking the so-called medicine of return to the origin, or methods of harmonizing water and fire when they are not properly applied, likewise does not accord with the correct path of cultivation.

The true crux lies in the fundamental principle of Wuwei (non-action), which is most worthy of reliance. If the mind delights in carefree joy, let it often be open and cheerful; if Shen delights in quiet ease, let it constantly abide in leisure and expansiveness. When body and mind maintain a balanced, natural harmony, they can congeal into a treasure and obtain that single point of clear, pure light which has endured from ancient times. When the light of Shen shines forth in brilliance, the original face is revealed.

Presented to Mr. Chen and Mr. Wang

Live in carefree freedom, roaming everywhere like clouds and water, the body like a small boat with no one at the helm. Keep the heart open and unconstrained, neither bound nor regulated, without joy and without sorrow. Sing and dance to the full at every moment, and let others mock as they please. Hold to a resolve of honest poverty, passing the days as conditions allow, and vow not to covet fame or profit.

Move through the world as through empty space, leaving no trace of attachment, like the lotus that grows in the water yet is never stained by it. Take up such works as the three-altar almsgiving, and cultivate the Six Perfections (the six methods of Buddhist practice) along with them. In this way one naturally reaches a state of fulfilled fruition without any lack, the mind pure and still, transcendent and at ease. Reverently bow to the supreme honored sages, and pay homage to the holy worthies of Buddhism, the Dao (the Way), and the realm of the immortals.

Presented to Mr. Zhang

After Uncle-Master He (a respectful form of address for Master He) ascended amid the rosy clouds (a Daoist expression for passing into immortality), there was in Lintong County a Mr. Zhang who kept a shop selling colored silks. He had long been ill, and treatment brought no improvement. One night he suddenly dreamed of the Uncle-Master, who told him a method of curing the illness with medicinal preparations. Mr. Zhang asked the Uncle-Master’s surname and learned that he was Master He of Mount Zhongnan. After waking, he took the medicine as instructed in the dream, and the illness was indeed cured.

On the ninth day of the ninth month of the jiawu year, Mr. Zhang came in person before the Uncle-Master’s tomb to burn incense in gratitude, and set up a stele upon the tomb pagoda as a memorial. For this reason a verse was composed and presented to him.

After Uncle-Master He ascended amid the rosy clouds, what occurred was truly wondrous and rare. In Lintong there was a Mr. Zhang, a companion of the Dao, whose illness, when it grew severe, had already become critical. Immortals save people without seeking any return; yet Mr. Zhang, cherishing gratitude, went in person before the Uncle-Master’s tomb to burn incense in thanks, and again raised a stele upon the tomb pagoda in remembrance.

After Senior Uncle Hegong ascended to immortality, the scene was marvelous, seldom seen in the world. A physician who reached Lintong was bound to die as well. Fellow Daoist Zhang, the immortals do not seek repayment from the people of the world. I hope the worthy members of your family will awaken and turn back. Who would have thought that he would instead come from afar to Mount Difei, burning incense and hurrying about? I compose a short lyric to counsel you: when impermanence arrives, it is decisive and swift—quickly brush your sleeves and depart. Beyond the dust of the world one should gather in mind and Shen (spirit) and cultivate, so that dragon and tiger conjoin (that is, Yin-Yang, and the harmony of Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy)). One day, when merit and practice are complete, the Nine-Times Reverted Elixir (a Neidan (internal alchemy) term for the elixir refined to completion) will achieve itself of its own accord. The radiance of Shen blazes; riding the luan, one departs, grateful to the master for deliverance.

Presented to Master Huangfu

The first step of cultivation concerns the struggle between immortal and mortal; you must know that every yao (the basic line-symbol of a hexagram) is like a single clash. Worldly thoughts and desires are very strong and easily leave a person stuck in a deadlock hard to undo. Only when the true mind is restored to uprightness can one avoid falling into the pit of fire and suffering the pain of the body consumed in flame. One must hold mind and Shen firmly and guard carefully against a misstep, lest after death one be left to wander the wilds. If one understands that impermanence is hard to foresee, then, with the decisiveness of a wisdom-sword and a firm resolve, one must overcome the monkey of the mind and the horse of the will. In this way the mind naturally grows clear and the intention still, and dragon and tiger (Yin-Yang, Jing and Qi) stir in mutual response. When Shen and Qi are clear and coalesce, the Great Elixir (Neidan) is refined, and one receives the immortal robe bestowed by Heaven. Riding the clouds, one departs for Penglai to attend the banquet and partake of the peaches of immortality.

Presented to Master Yu Jiubei

Do not say that a person can live to a hundred years; to reach seventy is already rare, and still less can one foresee when a lifespan will end. Think of wife and children, and of oneself: in truth all are like walking corpses, and in the end will return to death. The glory and wealth before one’s eyes only stupefy a person; they are obstacles to the cultivation of nature and life. If one can awaken, one should set aside family affairs and attachments and cultivate beyond the dust of the world. Those who are clever and quick-witted must instead be content to appear outwardly plain and clumsy, with unkempt hair and a grimy face, secretly guarding the hidden workings of cultivation. When the breathing is long, continuous, and subtle, auspicious Qi fills the four directions. To set out on the road to Penglai, one relies on the completion of three thousand merits and practices and rides the clouds away. The radiance of Shen blazes; one gathers with the great immortals—and what, then, has been lost?

Presented to Master Wang of Hukou

Shantong (the style name of Qiu Chuji) earnestly urges: People of the world all chase fame and profit, knowing only how to settle themselves through wealth and high rank, yet not knowing that our tradition of the Dao (the Way) offers a path of cultivation by which one may transcend the dusty world and find the root of life. Dragon and tiger meet and join, and one ascends in flight to the palaces of the immortals; the inner Infant and Lovely Maiden (metaphors, in Neidan (internal alchemy), for the Yin-Yang Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy)) unite as one. Who would believe that this path of cultivation neither hinders ordinary life in the world nor interferes with marriage between husband and wife?

The Jing and Qi of Metal, Wood, and the rest are harmonized with one another and set circulating by a subtle method, so that they fuse and return to the true. The cultivator suddenly feels as if with child, yet is able, within the formless, to gestate spiritual brightness. The root of nature and life is not arranged by Heaven and Earth, but is realized in one’s own mind; from then on, youth is long preserved. When the light of Shen (spirit) appears, one mounts the clouds and goes to pay homage to Lü Dongbin.

Presented to Yao Yuanming

There is no need to rely on glory and splendor, nor are wealth and rank fated by Heaven and Earth; so long as one’s own mind is clear, youth can long be preserved. When the spirit-light appears, one mounts the clouds and goes to pay homage to Lü Dongbin.

Presented to Yao Yuanming

Do not cling to glory, wealth, and rank, nor let yourself be entangled by the resentment of wife and children. Forget the myriad affairs and concentrate single-mindedly on cultivation. When mind and intention remain constantly clear and constantly still, one feels that Heaven and Earth within the pot (the inner realm of body and mind spoken of in Neidan) are vast and open, and worth contemplating. One can see the dragon coiled and the tiger circling, and the palaces of Kan and Li appear (Neidan terms symbolizing the state in which Yin and Yang unite).

At times the Infant and the Lovely Maiden appear, rolling up curtains of kingfisher green toward the Bright Hall (an inner region of body and mind indicated in Neidan terminology). Amid these auspicious scenes, one recognizes one’s original face. With both hands one raises the great medicine of the Golden Elixir, manifests the Dao of Wuwei (non-action), and completes the nine reversions (a Neidan term for the stages in the process of refining the elixir). When the spirit-light appears, one mounts a luan and hastens to the jasper banquet of the immortal realm.

Presented to the Three Elder Masters of Sanshui County

Let your resolve be firm and your disposition gentle, and firmly restrain the monkey-mind and the horse-will (a metaphor for restless thoughts that are hard to control). Sweep away together craving and desire, worldly feeling, and vulgar notions. Do not turn over and over the affairs of past and future, nor weary yourself with calculation. Transcend ordinary life in the world, keep to pure poverty and ease, and do not disdain solitude.

Do not grieve because of old age; even in illness, let joy arise within the heart. If, as death approaches, the will grows weak, still do not cling to the realms you see. Constantly guard the true and everlasting Dao, unaccompanied by external things, and numinous clarity will naturally shine forth. When the spirit-light appears, one can be awake, lucid, free, and at ease, and ascend to the Azure Empyrean (the blue heavens, meaning the immortal realm).

Presented to Master Yan of Ninghai

There is a definite method for subduing the thoughts of the mind; the key lies in your own awakening. In a quiet moment, consider the look of a skeleton: why should a person still busy themselves with adornment and the pursuit of external things? Once this has been understood and made clear, the numinous light naturally shines forth. When the spirit-light appears, one can be awake, lucid, free, and at ease, and ascend to the Azure Empyrean.

There is a method for gathering and reining in the mind and its thoughts, and you must experience it and awaken to it for yourself, with real attention. In a quiet moment you may call to mind the form of a skeleton and ask why a person should go to such trouble chasing after those things. It is through craving Qi (vital energy), wealth, wine, and sensual desire that one depletes Jing (essence) and Shen (spirit) and falls into evil destinies (undesirable places). If you regard stray thoughts as you would something fearful that must be guarded against, you need not deliberately seize or suppress them; they will settle of themselves. Awareness and contemplative observation leave the mind open and expansive. Empty fame and profit should be looked upon as things that have nowhere to belong and no real substance. When inverted views, both inner and outer, are all brought back onto the proper path, this is the Daoist way of cultivation. When external things stir you, the mind neither wavers nor changes; hold fast to this one original point of the true mind. The light of Shen shines brilliantly, rises to the nine heavens, and you mount the clouds and depart.

Presented to Mr. Liu of Lusu

You and I are from the same hometown, and our friendship has always been deep, yet both of us once coveted empty fame and profit. Later we both realized that the myriad things of the world are impermanent, and we let go of our various attachments one by one. I first parted from you at Ninghai, and afterward you came to Guan’guo. I hope that our aims will be the same, our minds in accord, and our virtue as one, so that together we may inquire into the mysterious and subtle principle. Do not, on any account, cling to external conditions or crave emotional attachment; set the mind at rest and keep the thoughts peaceful, preserve Jing and Shen, and nourish primordial Qi. In the dusty world, what matters most is not to be defiled and not to be entangled. Diligently bring your merits and practices to completion, and constantly maintain purity and stillness; then certain signs of verification and realizations will appear. The light of Shen shines brilliantly, manifesting with the brightness of flame—this is your true nature.

Presented to Young Mr. Wang of Wendeng

Even if you dwell in a cramped and humble lodging, gather body and mind inward, layer upon layer, so that you are not drawn by external things and your cultivation is neither left incomplete nor damaged. Within leisure, find a true leisure, and in that leisure accumulate the fruits of practice. Always maintain your hold, always stay lucid, always remain pure and still, and you will be able to walk alone and to sit and lie down alone. Forget cunning calculation, and forget as well fame, profit, others, and the self. Apply your mind in a solid, down-to-earth way and cultivate in earnest, overcoming layer after layer of doubt and bewilderment. You seek again and again and obtain again and again—but what, in the end, is there to obtain? True Suchness (the real and unchanging nature) abides thus, unmoving; the awakened nature is numinously bright and presents itself with perfect clarity. This is a true message, and it is the realm in which one truly confirms the other and each brings the other to completion. The true immortals will come to offer their congratulations.

Presented to Master Ren of Liquan County

However fiery your temperament and however free and easy your conduct, you must still devote yourself wholly to seeking the Dao (the Way). Examine it carefully and come to a thorough understanding: what truly counts as cultivation? See clearly that the mind itself is Buddha, and that apart from the mind there is no other fundamental principle. There is no other method. You need only clarify your thoughts, cast off desire, and rein in the mind that leaps about restlessly like a monkey. Do not leave even a thread of attachment in the heart, and still less should you constantly indulge in idle fancies, or even keep a skull hanging in your mind. In this way you will naturally forget external conditions and let your true nature rest in freedom and peace. If in ordinary life you always cherish a sympathetic heart and give rise to genuine compassion, your merit and practice will reach completion. When the light of Shen (spirit) shines brilliantly, you may roam at ease through the Daluo Heaven (the highest celestial realm spoken of in Daoism).

Presented to Langzhong Wu of Liquan

Even if gold is heaped until it fills the house and white jade is packed until it fills the rooms, even if children and grandchildren gather in crowds and every affair goes as you wish, you still cannot escape the changes of impermanence. If you wish to leave the cycle of rebirth and the turning of life and death, you must go and cultivate beside the streams of cloud and water. So long as you constantly preserve purity and clarity, you need not necessarily perform bows and recite formulas; you need only kindle a single stick of incense within the heart and maintain sincere reverence.

Follow the example of Fengxian (a title for a Daoist practitioner), who attained the Dao, and of Lord Jishi (a Daoist figure), who departed this world and returned to the True, and you will be free and at ease. These two immortals are both your fellow townsmen. They are not figures from remote legend, but auspicious signs witnessed with one's own eyes in recent times. Once you let go of your attachments, you may tread the clouds and proceed to the immortal realm of Penglai.

Presented to Old Master Qiao of Chunhua

Fengxian attained the Dao, and Lord Jishi departed this world and returned to the True; both were free and at ease. They are both your fellow townsmen, not figures from remote legend, but auspicious signs witnessed with one's own eyes in recent times. Once you let go of your attachments, you may tread the clouds and proceed to the immortal realm of Penglai.

Cast aside worldly constraints, strive to leap free of the paths of error, and stand transcendent beyond the dust of the world, coming and going in freedom and ease. Like a solitary cloud or a wild crane, one comes and goes without restraint. One is willing to be a poor and idle person, declining worldly cares and unwilling to rush about for a living. The mind remains unstained by external things, and one seeks out another place, settled and at ease, in which to cultivate.

Draw in cleverness and talent; do not contend for superiority, and do not envy the worthy and able. Set all affairs aside. When the mind within is clear and still, heaven and earth seem likewise to return to peace. In the three Dantian (energy centers)—upper, middle, and lower, the places within the human body where, as Daoism teaches, one refines and nourishes oneself—treasures naturally coalesce, and the fetal immortal (the immortal body that, in the practice of Neidan (internal alchemy), symbolizes what has been refined to completion) appears, clearly present before the eyes. The radiance of Shen (spirit) shines brilliantly, and Pengying (the legendary immortal realms of Penglai and Yingzhou) is the direction in which one advances.

Presented to Master Waguan

Human life is always accompanied by glory and disgrace, benefit and harm, joy and sorrow; there is gain and there is loss, success and failure. People are born and people die; so long as there is a bodily form, it will in the end be destroyed. Do not cling to “being.” From ancient times to the present, of those who cling to being, who has ever endured? One must understand the principle of Wuwei (non-action) and non-doing (according with what is natural, and not deliberately forcing action): one is not pulled about by emotion, holds no fixation, and neither hates nor clings in greedy love. Forget self and others; remain unstained by external things; do not cling, and do not meet with obstruction. When the mind is free of care and hindrance, karmic obstacles can be cleared away; if one can awaken to “non-being,” one has truly understood. Tasting the great Dao (the Way) from within “non-being,” one can reach neither birth nor extinction and transcend the Three Realms (the realm of desire, the realm of form, and the formless realm).

Presented to Master Miao of Weizhou

Do not boast of beauty, do not boast of youth, and do not boast of being clever and pleasing. Do not show off a skill for scheming or a deeply calculating mind; do not boast of many talents and arts, and do not boast of indulging in sensual attraction or clinging greedily to home and family. Do not boast of a reputation in the streets and markets, do not boast of wealth and rank, and do not compare yourself with others as higher or lower.

It is well, in leisure, to reflect on the cycle of birth and death, and quietly to read the elixir Jing (scriptures/classics), the Daoist canonical writings, and the Zhuangzi and the Laozi. In unhurried ease one tastes the mysterious and subtle and comes to understand profound principles. In idle time one clarifies the mind and Shen and regulates and nourishes the Qi (vital energy); through this leisure one cultivates and refines the true treasure within. To grasp the pleasure of leisure and be an immortal of leisure and freedom is best of all.

Presented to the Three Immortals Qiao, Li, and Guo

Quietly read the elixir Jing, the Daoist canonical writings, and the Zhuangzi and the Laozi; in leisure seek the Dao of leisure, and thereby comprehend the mysterious principle and understand what is profound. In spare moments clarify the mind and Shen and regulate and nourish the Qi; by means of this leisure cultivate, and refine the true treasure within. To grasp the pleasure of leisure and be an immortal of leisure and freedom is best of all.

Those who practice cultivation need not live in the mountains, nor shut themselves in a cramped room and train with bitter effort. Why rush endlessly back and forth, traveling far to seek teachers and visit friends? There is no need to cling to doing one’s daily practice or sitting in meditation, no need to suffer for the sake of farming, and no need to toil at gathering herbs merely to trade them for clothing and food.

What matters is where one places the mind. So long as the mind is not stained by attachment, one can see through every worldly entanglement. Even in the midst of the marketplace, one may set aside one’s status and live by begging leftover food. Regard empty fame and profit with calm detachment, sigh at the impermanence of life and death, and let the dusty thoughts in the mind gradually die away. Forget the desires of the mundane world, and in time one may take a place among the immortals.

Presented to the Two Gentlemen, Zhao and Lei

Hear my counsel: do not endure hunger and cold, and do not cling to sensory pleasure or the delights of song and dance. Do not put on a wild and eccentric manner, and do not flatter and deceive at every turn. Do not let ignorance—deluded unknowing—give rise to anger, and still less hang upon fame and profit. Do not be impatient, and do not be confused or obstinate, lest you be deceived by others.

Simply abide in the ordinary and live well, dwelling in Wuwei (non-action) and pure stillness, and peace will come of itself. The true Qi (vital energy) of the Great Dao (the Way)—peaceful, balanced, and upright—lies entirely where the mind is at leisure and at rest. If one wishes nature and life to be settled and enduring, one must rid oneself of every entanglement; then the Golden Elixir (the state attained through Daoist Neidan, internal alchemy) will condense of its own accord. The radiance of Shen (spirit) will shine forth, and one will at last enter the realm of the immortals.

Presented to Master Du and All Daoist Friends

Burn incense with diligent care, read the Jing (scriptures) with caution and earnestness, devote yourself wholly to supporting others, and accumulate De (Virtue/Power) and do good in every place, fearing only to lose the chance of being human in this life. One might clearly seek wealth and rank in a future life, yet in this life one still labors hard and barely sustains a livelihood—what, in the end, is gained? I hope you will all heed this advice and seek instead a path that is truly of benefit.

Brush off your sleeves and leave the dusty world, turning toward what lies beyond it; enjoy freedom and ease, and dwell in purity, stillness, and leisure. Befriend Daoist companions who keep company with clouds and rosy mists, and draw near to the wind and moon of nature. Set in motion that single point of true nature originally present from the beginning, and cultivate the genuine nature that is inherently complete. The radiance of Shen shines brilliantly, and everyone can cultivate changsheng jiushi—long life and lasting vision (to live long and to behold the world for a long time).

One leaves home to cultivate the Dao (the Way), yet the demons of the mind are, alas, hard to dispel, and loathing and loving attachment still fill the heart. The mind is like a monkey and like a galloping horse, coming and going in a flash, difficult to settle. The moment a worldly feeling arises within, thoughts of every kind burst forth one after another; one indulges an obstinate mind and will not temper and overcome it. Once an evil thought arises, transgressions are all born of the mind—how can one escape King Yama (lord of the underworld)? I urge you to devote yourself to subduing the mind, to wearing down the urge to contend and prevail, and to keep polishing yourself as one cuts and grinds jade.

The mind is like a monkey and like a galloping horse, coming and going in a flash, difficult to settle. The moment a worldly feeling arises within, thoughts of every kind burst forth one after another; one indulges an obstinate mind and will not temper and overcome it. Once an evil thought arises, transgressions are all born of the mind—how can one escape King Yama? I urge you to devote yourself to subduing the mind, to wearing down the urge to contend and prevail, and to keep polishing yourself as one cuts and grinds jade. If the mind grows still as cold ashes, Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) naturally become harmonious and well balanced. When the true mind is free of stain and clinging, compassion arises and one is no longer partial. Once a good thought arises, the Dao too is born of the mind, and one can pass beyond the Sahā world (the dusty world in which we live).

Presented to Master Cao Ba

The mysterious principle is easy to understand, yet the mind is hard to render purely good; one must inquire carefully how the right Dao may be maintained for long. Seize it firmly and bring it under control, and still the monkey and horse of the mind leap about and will not be tamed. Through the twelve double-hours of the day, mind and Shen are often overturned and unsettled, stirring the heart so that feelings and stray thoughts arise. One should make a vow to battle these stray thoughts without cease, even unto death. Even if you are somewhat foolish and stubborn, how can that withstand a training that is firm, single-minded, and unbroken? After thorough awakening, one naturally understands that the myriad things are empty, and, turning inward in contemplation, reaches a state in which nothing is seen or clung to.

At the very moment when Heaven and Earth begin to arise within, the sun and moon begin to turn inside the medicine furnace—in Neidan (internal alchemy), a metaphor for the body and for the process of refining and nourishing. If one constantly preserves clarity and stillness, pure and sacred practice gives birth to spiritual illumination, and the realm of numinous clarity appears.

A lyric written after reading the Qingjing Jing (Scripture of Clarity and Stillness), presented to Administrative Aide Xu

When one sleeps alone and dwells in solitude, unconfused by external things, and at every moment takes care to contemplate inwardly, one comes to understand the saying, “The male is clear and the female turbid; the male moves and the female is still.” Here “male” and “female” are not the men and women of the world, but the differing qualities of inner Yin-Yang; Yin and Yang congeal within emptiness into a single point of true Jing (essence). Who would have thought that only after sleeping alone, unswayed by outer conditions, contemplating inwardly at every moment, and fully awakening to these principles, does one realize that what they speak of is in fact one’s own nature and life?

Lay hold of this subtlety, and one can clarify the mind, dispel desire, and cut off attachment to sound and sight. When consciousness enters a realm that is deep, still, dim, and beyond words, it accords with the Dao. Within it there are Jing and Qi and real substance, and the practitioner perceives that the Neidan is naturally conceived. Constantly preserve clarity and stillness, and the embryo-immortal—in Neidan cultivation, the state symbolizing the sacred embryo come to maturity—will appear; of this there are sure signs.

Presented to Daoist friend Administrative Aide Xu

The reins of fame and profit draw a person away from Dengzhou, and in autumn he travels far to Jishi. The office of judicial officer here may fairly be called a fine post, yet it can be held for only a year. No sooner is the term complete than the day of departure presses near—can the heart be wholly without the sorrow of parting? One sighs over this going and coming, a journey of more than eight thousand li; in the end, what is it all for?

One ought to learn from Tao Yuanming, who resigned and withdrew from office, and also follow Haichanzi—a Daoist figure said in legend to have left office in order to cultivate the Way—returning the official seal, setting out with bold resolve, and cultivating the great Dao (the Way) beyond the dusty world. Nourish what is innate, the Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) received before birth; accord with the natural course of things; and refine the Neidan (internal alchemy) by the firing times. When the merits of cultivation are complete, one mounts auspicious clouds and goes on to Yingzhou, the legendary immortal mountain in the sea.

Everyone studies the Dao, and everyone is impatient, eager to find a principle both mysterious and sure. They search for the “knife-measure” and for “lead and mercury”—terms of internal alchemy often used to figure the medicines needed in refining the elixir and the Jing and Qi of Yin-Yang—seek the sun and moon within the grotto-heavens, inquire everywhere into the secret that lies between Wood and Metal, and pursue Heaven’s hidden workings without pause.

Hear my counsel: do not cling to differing names and outward appearances, nor need you search in all directions. First cut off desires such as anger, wealth, wine, and sensual pleasure, and quickly wash clean worldly thoughts and vulgar notions. Let all affairs drop from the mind, and Jing and Qi will of themselves not scatter. When the mind is pure, the principle becomes clear of itself; the myriad Shen (spirits) grow luminous and communicate of their own accord. If one can do this, the Three Isles of Penglai—the legendary immortal mountains in the sea—are close at hand.

When companions on the Way gather, they should remind and examine one another, seeking outwardly while also clearing what lies within. In cultivation one should not strive to be first, show off one’s strength, or compare oneself with others. On meeting a worthy person, one should think of measuring up to him and not be jealous; one should constantly polish one’s own “spirit pearl”—a figure for the luminous mind-nature originally one’s own—so that it remains clear and bright. If awakening is possible, one should strive first to awaken oneself, and then help those who come after to awaken.

Hear also my solemn counsel: the key to cultivation lies in the way of Wuwei (non-action) and in learning that rises above ordinary preconceptions. Do not let worldly attachments obscure original nature, so that the mind-nature, simple at its root, is blocked. Distinguish the true from the false, and the mind grows clear of itself; the Dao is not far away. When one’s practice is sufficient, one can penetrate the subtlest principles and grasp the essentials of becoming an immortal.

A man of the Han surname possessed considerable insight, yet he did not rely on the shelter of his ancestors’ merit, nor did he care to sit for the civil examinations or seek rank and fame. He feared only that reputation and worldly distinction would tether him like ropes and leave a person forever without peace. He held, moreover, a view of his own: he looked upon the transformations of life and death as Zhuangzi did when, after his wife’s death, he drummed on a basin and sang, and in this way gave rise instead to joy. He was often untrammeled and unconstrained, drinking at leisure in the village wineshops, unbound by the seasons; nor did he worry over the livelihood of his sons and grandsons, but, leaning on a goosefoot staff, kept far from his home. He took as his delight the forgetting of the road home and the chanting of wind and moon. This somewhat resembles the path of cultivating the Dao (the Way) of which Shantong spoke—the sobriquet of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) Daoist Wang Zhe. If he were willing to seek out with care the secret methods of cultivation and thereby turn toward awakening, he could become one among those who truly cultivate immortality.

Presented to Mr. Wu Hegang

Good deeds and merit performed outwardly may indeed serve as causes for the accumulation of blessings, yet they fall short of cultivation carried on within oneself. One nurtures true lead and true mercury—terms in the cultivation of Neidan (internal alchemy) used as figures for the Yin-Yang Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) within the body—so that the Qi above and the Qi below mingle. The golden dragon sports before the mountain, and the jade tiger roams in the great sea; all these are symbols in Neidan cultivation. Thereupon the infant and the maiden, symbols of Yin-Yang Jing and Qi, hidden within the body and without form or shadow, are aroused and unite with one another.

They dance face to face upon the Spirit Terrace, the place where the mind and Shen (spirit) reside, with no need to open the mouth and sing. The practitioner drinks deeply of the daogui—an alchemical term, here referring to the Neidan—and lies intoxicated amid jasper towers and treasure stores; the Neidan is formed, and the embryonic immortal, the immortal embryo spoken of in Neidan cultivation, leaps with joy. One then summons the azure phoenix, securely mounts the divine boat, and turns back toward the isle of Penglai, while a golden lad invites one onward to Yingzhou—all these being images that depict the attainment of cultivation and the ascent to immortality.

Four Poems for Brothers on Converting the Barbarians and Attaining Immortality

The Three Corpses—spirits which, as Daoism teaches, lodge in the human body, incite people to evil, and harm the lifespan—draw one along, and the Six Thieves—a metaphor for the six sensory desires that delude the mind—throw one into disorder, so that the hun and po souls naturally grow muddled. All day one contends over wealth and Qi, craving wine and sensual pleasure; the moment a thought stirs, one first calculates one’s own advantage, letting schemes and desires gallop unchecked. Foolish person, the lifespan of your body is limited—what bearing do you still display, and what grandeur do you still pursue?

Do not say that one’s allotted years can reach a hundred. From ancient times to the present, it has already been rare for a person to live to seventy. Reckon the days: a whole lifetime comes to no more than 25,200 days. What is more, the nights consume half of them, and in every affair one can hardly avoid unexpected mishaps. If one can awaken, then heed the counsel of Shantong and do not remain an ordinary worldly person.

A mind in turmoil, sunk in song and dance and in drinking, harms a person’s three hun and seven po (the souls spoken of in Daoism, bound up with spiritual life). Heedless of safety or danger, people cling only to wealth and feminine beauty, keep company with friends who seek pleasure, and ride in carriages and on horseback to flaunt ornate fittings and horse trappings. At feasts and places of musical enjoyment, they show off their airs amid crowds of pipes and song. Even wealth like that of Shi Chong cannot hide a face grown old and black hair turned white—how, then, can youth be kept? In the end a person is no more than a walking corpse and moving bones, dull and slow-witted in old age. Glory for a time may be pleasant, yet the shifts of impermanence are hard to foresee. If one can awaken, one should cultivate the Dao (the Way) and become a person who transcends the ordinary world.

Resolutely cast off the burdens of family and estate and hesitate no longer, clearly distinguishing the yin hun from the po (different Daoist names for the souls). Drive out the corpse-worms in the body (the impure and harmful things within, as spoken of in Daoist cultivation), and shut out craving for Qi (vital energy), wealth, wine, and sensual beauty. In doing good, put others before oneself, and hold a heart of compassion, like Maitreya. Cultivate the Great Dao, rest content in Wuwei (non-action) and in non-doing, and gradually penetrate the mysterious realm. Rise above the dusty world and roam at ease; true joy is to be found in clarity and stillness. Even after accumulating three thousand merits and eight hundred good deeds (a common way of speaking of meritorious practice in Daoist exhortations to goodness), one must still press on with diligence. At all times nourish body and mind, so that Yin-Yang courses like the sun and moon; the subtle changes within are hard for others to fathom. When one has truly understood the principle, one can become an immortal guest of Penglai.

When every kind of principle has been seen through, external things naturally cannot delude one, and the mind and Shen (spirit) grow calm. Seeing and hearing are as if one were deaf and blind, and attachment to sound and form is cut off. Body and mind roam free, unbound by family estate or by thoughts of kindness and affection. Acting through Wuwei, one lives on what others leave behind, feels no shame in pure poverty, and is not constrained by worldly dignity. One travels as freely as one wishes, like a solitary cloud or a wild crane, with no one to direct one. One envies neither glory and riches nor the possession of three hundred splendid carriages. Clearing the mind and Shen and driving out desire all day long, one can discern principles that are hidden, subtle, and mysterious. When meritorious practice is complete, one becomes an immortal of the Ten Continents and Three Islands.

In a dream I saw treasures beyond counting, the folds of my robe packed full of them. Afterward, Mr. Yao, Xuanzhongzi (Master of the Mysterious Center), brought Mr. Zhao of Zhangtai Street, father and son, into the humble cottage where I was living. While we were talking, a bell suddenly sounded, and everyone wore a look of sorrow. Mr. Zhao then knelt and asked me to write a poem. I had just taken up paper and brush when I suddenly awoke, and so I composed the first stanza of Shenguangcan (Radiant Divine Light), setting down what had happened in the dream. After copying it out, I gave it to the Daoist companions of the hall. The next day, Mr. Su, Yunzhongzi (Master Amid the Clouds), came bringing the very Mr. Zhao I had seen in the dream. Mr. Zhao had only just grasped the principle and had made a special journey to cultivate at the hall of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection). When he saw the lyric he was filled with delight and asked me to continue with the second stanza.

Last night I dreamed of gold spread over the ground, the folds of my robe filled with pearls and agate. Coral and amber met my eyes on every side, as though I stood among jade trees and jeweled groves. Suddenly an unexpected bell rang out and left everyone startled and disheartened. Tianshuizi stepped forward, paid his respects, and asked me for a pure and elegant poem. I took the huajian (finely ornamented letter paper) and the xiangguan (a brush handle made of ivory) and was just about to chant when the dream broke. Who else could understand this kindred spirit met within the dream? Fortunately the clear wind and the bright moon remain to soothe my state of mind. The few subtle and mysterious points within depend on who has the affinity to seek them out and comprehend them. If there is one of shared resolve and a common path, we are sure to meet in time upon the high ridges of Yun’an (the lofty mountain slopes of Yun’an).

A matching poem for Preceptor Master Ai.

Only a precept-master monk can truly be called my disciple: one who understands the principles of Chan, has awakened to the Great Dao (the Way), and is also versed in Confucian learning. Careful inquiry into the way of true awakening shows that the fundamental principles of the Three Teachings do not differ. In dealing with others one should be gentle, kind, respectful, frugal, and modest, and observe the rites; facing the sufferings of birth, aging, sickness, and death, one need not sigh in vain. One should cultivate with diligent effort, refining and transforming the Five Phases of Wood, Metal, Water, Fire, and Earth, so that the practice is complete and without flaw.

If followers of the Three Teachings can awaken, they should forget the distinctions and disputes among them, and it is fitting that they dwell together in a thatched hut to cultivate. When they speak of the profound principles of transcending the dusty world, every sentence can nourish body and mind and aid practice. One should always cherish a heart that widely bestows kindness and relieves the many, harmonizing Qi (vital energy) and Shen (spirit) so that they congeal into an elixir pearl. In the end one returns to Tushita (one of the immortal realms spoken of in Daoism), proceeds to Daluo and Peng Island, and dwells together with the perfected immortals.

Presented to Zhang Mingdao, Layman of the Three-in-One

In former days, while I was still in the secular world, I often feared that the cold of winter would be hard to endure, and wrapped myself in three thick quilts. The teaching of Fengxian was once mocked, and people said I was like the rustic youth of Three-Topknot Mountain. In ancient times the Ma clan had its “Three Treasures”; now Fufeng too has its “Three Quilts.” I have comprehended the method of the Three-in-One, as if on a snowy day I lay at ease high upon three mountain peaks.

From then on I followed the Three Teachings and carefully studied the wondrous Dharma of the Three Vehicles. Through inner cultivation I set the Three Lights in motion (the three kinds of radiance spoken of in cultivation), so that they illumine body and mind, and I join the Kan tiger with the Li dragon (terms in the cultivation of Neidan [internal alchemy] that symbolize the mutual refinement of water and fire). Preserving and nourishing the three places and guarding the Primordial One, after three years I perceived that a single red elixir pearl had congealed within the Three Fields (the upper, middle, and lower Dantian [energy center]). When the number of three-and-three is fulfilled, and the zither tones in the heart harmonize layer upon layer, one may stand ranked with the immortals.

Urging Sun Xian of Wozhou to Enter the Dao

Where, after all, are the divine immortals? They are in the immortal realm of Penglai, free and at ease, open and unconstrained—truly marvelous. At times they pass in and out of the vast and ethereal void, coming and going in freedom; they tour the Ten Continents and the Three Islands, and wander at leisure through Langyuan and the jasper terraces. Joy is endless; hand in hand they laugh with immortal friends among the clouds and companions of the Dao amid the rose-colored mists.

In the jasper grove an elegant banquet is laid. Azure-robed immortal attendants clap their hands to lead the dance, and colored phoenixes wheel in flight. Jade maidens and golden lads sing and dance without cease, passing the cups. One lies drunk between clear breeze and bright moon, letting auspicious clouds and propitious Qi come and go in circling embrace. If only one diligently cultivates the Great Dao, one will surely in time to come keep company with the perfected immortals.

Shown to Fellow Practitioners

Those who cultivate the Dao (the Way) should not be restless in heart or agitated in Qi (vital energy); otherwise they will scarcely be fit to receive the food and drink offered from the ten directions (all quarters). Think of the farmer hoeing the fields at noon, sweat falling drop by drop upon the seedlings. In every spoonful of rice we eat, who knows how much toil has gathered behind it? If one deceives others, one should not look to Heaven for forgiveness. One ought to examine oneself and awaken; when these things come to mind, the fine hairs of the body stand on end, as if cold water had been poured over one. If one wishes no longer to incur the debt of mouth and belly, one must live with ease and simplicity, quiet and unattached, remaining lucid and still at all times, and never offending the statutes of Heaven. Constantly cherish a heart of great mercy and great compassion, help others bring true merit to completion, and strive for the rank of an immortal. In this way one may return to the Isle of Peng (a legendary mountain of the immortals) and partake of the rare delicacies of the celestial kitchen and of fine jade.

[Again]

Seeing others do wrong, and being stirred in the heart, one gives rise to compassion, helps others accumulate and cultivate true merit, and strives for the rank of an immortal. In this way one may return to the Isle of Peng and partake of the rare delicacies of the celestial kitchen and of fine jade.

[Again]

Seeing others do wrong, and being stirred in the heart, how can one not grieve? One thinks of how the ancients showed their devotion by burning a finger, scorching an arm, or burning incense upon the crown of the head; even one who gave up the body, leaping from a cliff to feed a tiger, was only doing the utmost to abandon the body, and this is not necessarily the most sublime practice. Who can know that within this lies another, subtler principle, which alone is truly auspicious? In cultivation through pure stillness and Wuwei (non-action), the true fire in the cauldron and furnace within the body appears; the true fire of the heart descends to the region of the kidneys; the water of the kidneys is transformed into true Qi, and true Qi congeals into red frost. If one constantly steams and suffuses the body and the four limbs with this, one feels the body grow clear, open, light, and nimble, giving forth a pure, bright sound. When the radiance of Shen (spirit) shines brilliantly, one can ride the clouds and return to the immortal realm of Penglai.

An Exhortation to Companions of the Dao

Alas for the husbands and wives of the world, who mistakenly take marriage for a good karmic bond; they were not originally destined to be joined as spouses. Each is a child of a separate household, and between them there is no natural kinship. Only because a matchmaker has brought them together do they become a couple; they indulge in sexual desire and deplete their Jing (essence) and Shen. Seeking offspring, they give birth to a crowd of children, yet they will not awaken and draw themselves free. All day they fret over sons and daughters—how could they realize that they stand but a single step from sinking into ruin? In the end the body is devoured by maggots, and the bones turn to dust. If one can see through this bitter entanglement, one ought to turn back and cultivate the Dao, preserving the innate true nature. When the radiance of Shen shines brilliantly, one may go to the immortal realms of Penglai, Yingzhou, and the like, and behold the scenery of everlasting spring.

An Exhortation to Transformation

Everyone is attached to the charms of women, and wives often go to great lengths, deceiving their husbands with coy smiles and sweet words. Day after day they dress and adorn themselves, seeking only to please their husbands at a glance; time and again they whisper persuasions at the ear, urging men to contend for wealth and to nurse petty pride. They think only of their own convenience, never asking whether what they scheme for will bring wealth and rank, nor whether it accords with what is right. This seemingly intimate bond between husband and wife instead enslaves body and mind. Do people not see that so-called kindness may in fact be a temptation that leaves one weak? By day they demand clothing and food; by night they quietly drain a person’s Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy). Once one awakens, the heart trembles with fear, dreading that the malignant ghosts who pursue the soul and claim the life will come to the door. Only by turning back to the great Dao (the Way), resting in Wuwei (non-action), and cultivating with diligence can one enter the path of immortality.

Dispelling Delusion

After rank and fame are achieved, wealth is in hand, and sons and daughters have married and settled, a person, without noticing, finds the face grown old and both temples streaked with white. Still clamoring and rushing about, how could one imagine that the appointed end is near? Lesser ghosts look on from the side and laugh in secret, letting the person drag a failing body about and bluster in vain. Illness strikes all at once; even if physicians as renowned as Lu Yi and Bian Que are summoned, the medicines no longer take effect. One still frets over household affairs and reckons the family accounts, and only when the warrant that summons the soul is set before one’s face does awakening begin. One had always supposed that children, grandchildren, wives, and concubines could keep one in the world; in the end, one’s life is spent entirely for them. When the breath ceases and the soul sets out on the dark road of the underworld, one finally understands that a whole lifetime has stored up no merit of cultivation. King Yama is fierce, and orders that the person be cast into hell forever.

Lamenting the Skeleton

Staff in hand, I stroll at leisure in the countryside beyond the city, when suddenly I see a skeleton by the roadside. Earth fills the eye sockets, and foul-smelling grass grows from the mouth. It no longer has the easy grace it once possessed, nor can the romantic air of former days ever return. Surely, while it lived, someone urged it to study the Dao and cultivate, yet it would not turn back. It once thought begging in the streets a disgrace; now only white bones remain, laid bare, and there is no shame left to feel. If one can awaken to the truth that human life is like dwelling in a house on fire, and that after death one may still become a prisoner of the netherworld, one ought to resolve to set aside attachments, leave worldly affairs, and cultivate in earnest beyond the dust of the world. Only then can the light of Shen (spirit) shine in full splendor and, accompanied by auspicious clouds, one go straight to Yingzhou (a legendary mountain of the immortals).

Quietly clarify the mind and Shen (spirit), seek out principles that lie deep and mysterious, and discern the root of the myriad things by observing heaven and earth. Heaven and earth spread forth and array countless scenes, and the sun and moon move and take their turns with them. This is like the legend of Nüwa fashioning human beings: from the void she took substances of the five colors and, refining them through the firing process, at last forged a complete form, whole and perfect, with nothing lacking. From this comes pure unity and clear stillness, and heaven and earth are at peace. Without deliberate contrivance, according with what is natural, it endures on and on.

In what is profound, remote, and vague, hard to make out, an “embryonic immortal” is conceived (the immortal embryo formed in cultivation, symbolizing the transformation of inner life). This is one’s original face. When understanding goes further, even without words, speech cannot say it all. Then a golden lad will come with the message, welcoming the cultivator to go and pay homage to the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning (Yuanshi Tianzun).

Presented to Yang Wuyi of Lingkou.

Aunt Yang awakened to the Dao (the Way). Her resolve was firm and fierce, and few could compare with her. She resolutely smashed her mirror stand, showing that she no longer clung to her appearance. She saw through the fleshly body as only a filthy, decaying shell, and vowed never again to comb, wash, or adorn herself. Devoted wholly to cultivating the Dao, with tangled hair and a grimy face, she put on a straw cape, leaned on a staff, and wore a bamboo hat. She cut off cleverness and cunning, and rid herself of the mind’s fire stirred by ignorance (benightedness and delusion), constantly drawing in her sharpness and restraining herself.

Set beside her, what of those men who sink into desire and chase wealth, rank, and glory? They are like living ghosts that pursue souls and seize spirits, taking without end. Aunt Yang cast all glory, wealth, and rank aside, and no longer kept them in her heart. She constantly preserved purity and quiet, dwelling in the principle of Wuwei (non-action) and of following what is natural. When merit and practice are complete, she may go to the Ten Continents and Three Islands (the legendary sea realms where immortals dwell) and take her place among the immortals.

Presented to Yao Shouqing and Li Shoujing.

Do not take cultivation in purity and stillness for an ordinary matter. Follow the secretly transmitted methods of the immortals, persist in practice day and night, and set aside the myriad affairs of the world. Yet scenes and habits long familiar often disturb the mind. One must restrain oneself without cease; this is like two armies meeting in battle, each raising blades and spears.

Sweep away the “corpse-worms, the ape, and the horse” (in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy), a metaphor for disturbances within the body, such as delusive thoughts and desires), and return to the realm of Wuwei, of non-doing, and of freedom from affairs. Keep constantly clear and still, and good fortune will constantly be yours. Rely also on the aid of true compassion, bring merit and practice to completion, and go on to the immortal realm of Penglai. Riding away upon the clouds, visit Master Chongyang and Ancestral Master Chunyang (Lü Dongbin).

Presented to Aunt Li of Xiaohu Village.

In the cultivation of aunts (female practitioners), hear my counsel, given again and again. First, cut off afflictions and subdue the mind-monkey and will-horse (a metaphor for restless thoughts that are hard to tame); do not let the mind overturn itself and waver back and forth. Be as decisive and resolute as the male brothers; do not hesitate, and do not act rashly. Set about cultivation at once. Only with complete perseverance and arduous resolve can one avoid being summoned before King Yama.

Every worldly attachment must be laid down, one by one, before true joy and happiness can be gained and the subtle principles gradually understood. Carefully guard the Dao (the Way) of Wuwei (non-action), of clarity and stillness, and of following what is natural. When responding to external things, still preserve true constancy and profound quiet; let Qi (vital energy) and Shen (spirit) congeal with one another and form the precious elixir. When merit and practice are complete, one may ride auspicious clouds and return to the Three Isles (the sea realms where immortals dwell).

Sent to Aunt Wang of Chang’an

How marvelous is this sword of wisdom (symbolizing the wisdom that cuts off clinging)! It has neither shadow nor form, yet it is like pure steel, able to cut iron and sever nails. It splits apart the bonds of affection and cuts off desire and worldly feeling; it sweeps away the Three Corpses and the Six Thieves (the inner deviant thoughts and desires which, as Daoism teaches, obstruct cultivation). It need not even be brandished, and gods and ghosts are already struck with fear. Constantly hold this sword, subdue the two creatures, the tortoise and the snake (symbols of the Yin-Yang Qi within the body, or of forces that disturb body and mind), and keep one’s footing secure.

This sword is originally possessed by everyone. If only one turns wholeheartedly toward the Dao, its working appears of itself. Wash the blade further with constant clarity and constant stillness until it shines, and one will naturally penetrate the mysterious. Why, then, worry that one’s original nature cannot become spiritually luminous? When merit and practice are complete, one should also carry this sword of wisdom to Pengying (Penglai and Yingzhou, the legendary mountains of the immortals).

Presented to the two female aunts of Jingyang County

The marvelous ultimate principle is ever pure and still. It looks easy to understand, yet truly putting it into practice is hard. Whoever wishes to cultivate into an immortal must take this as the basis. Do not search elsewhere for some further mystery; so long as one cultivates according to this, why worry that one’s original nature cannot become spiritually luminous? When merit and practice are complete, one should also carry this principle to Pengying.

How wonderful is this supreme principle: ever pure, clear, and luminous, easy to understand yet hard to practice. Anyone who wishes to cultivate immortality must take it as the standard. Seek no other mystery besides this; only clarify the mind, eliminate desire, and forget passion. Be stained by no attachment, and be without hatred or love, without rivalry or strife. Once one has awakened to the Dao (the Way), nothing that arises can move the heart; realizing what lies within the formless and imageless, one finds heaven, earth, and the myriad things all settled in peace. Sun and moon seem to share a single palace, and day and night gather into one field of light. Though one does not deliberately seek Shen (spirit), the wondrous realm appears of itself. Riding auspicious clouds, one hastens to Pengying, the legendary immortal mountains. Received in audience by the Jade Emperor, true merit is revealed, and the Dao of clarity and stillness is thereby brought to completion.

Presented to Lady Wang of Chang’an, the Auspicious Wanderer.

Life and death are the matter of first importance—why cling so excessively to children and grandchildren? One should calmly step free of family entanglements, wander at ease beyond the dusty world, and dwell in a quiet, unoccupied retreat. Constantly clarifying the thoughts of the mind and cutting off deliberation—this is called “seizing the horse and capturing the monkey,” the reining in of a scattered, restless mind. Once worldly distractions have been cut off, mind and spirit grow lucid and at ease, and one naturally awakens to the mysterious principle. The most subtle and profound realm lies where wind and moon keep company and rain and cloud meet. Only when the mind grows still does one know that within the grotto-heaven there is another heaven and earth. Are a person’s nature and life truly governed by heaven and earth? One must shelter the luminous clarity—the innate clear awareness—return to the root, and recover original authenticity. Turning toward Peng Island, the legendary immortal isle, one transcends birth and extinction and endures without decay.

Presented to Lady Wei of Lingkou, the Thoroughly Luminous Wanderer, styled “Haifeng.”

Though a woman in person, her aspiration is that of a man. After awakening to the Dao, she steps free of family entanglements. On the path of seeking the Dao she searches with single-minded devotion—why still long for beautiful women and beloved children? Her mind and nature are like a solitary cloud or a wild crane, untouched by worldly ties. Truly transcendent and untrammeled, she is worthy to be called a great person. Having recognized the originally pure nature, why discourse on the tiger-child and the dragon-child, symbolic terms commonly used in Neidan (internal alchemy)? Nor need one deliberately regulate Li and Kan, trigrams of the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) often used to symbolize Yin-Yang, or the Lovely Maiden and the Infant, Neidan terms commonly used as images of Yin-Yang Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy). Cultivating through Wuwei (non-action), one can accomplish the great Dao and form a person without marks—a cultivator beyond bodily form and appearance. When Yang Qi is pure and complete, one can become a disciple of the Most High.

Presented to the assembled women practitioners.

Fearing wind and sun, and cherishing looks and bearing, she is most content in deep mansions and splendid halls. Before the mirror she adorns herself and arranges robes woven of gold thread. Because she has heard of the wind…

She feared wind and sun, cherished her looks and bearing, and felt that only a splendid, secluded mansion was a fit place to live. Each day she dressed and adorned herself before the mirror, wearing gauze robes woven with gold thread. Later, hearing that Fengxian had left the dusty world and risen above the secular realm like a cicada shedding its shell, she came to admire the Dao (the Way) of cultivating the true, resolved to practice, and did not hesitate. She therefore cast aside her splendid adornments, went about with unkempt hair and an unwashed face, put on plain clothes, and took refuge in cultivation of the Dao.

The spiritual root once buried in the heart—the foundation of cultivation—had been obscured; now that it is understood, one should set one’s own hand to healing it. Circulate the Yin-Yang Qi (vital energy) within the body as the sun and moon course, reaching straight into the distance. Cultivated in this way, Wood and Metal—terms of Neidan (internal alchemy) for the corresponding Yin-Yang Qi within the body—will naturally congeal into a treasure and reveal the divine pearl, its radiance shining upon the clear Yi. Only then does one realize that the mystery within is truly beyond conception.

Everyone studies the Dao—why do they retreat halfway? It is because their resolve is not firm enough and they cannot endure. Some cultivate amid wealth and honor; others meet hardship and peril. If the poor, after accepting support from others, give rise to pride, their practice will surely be ruined; if they covet wealth, they will also invite unexpected disaster. There are also those whose refining of the mind is incomplete, who give rise to thoughts of currying favor and of clinging attachment, and who in the end will certainly break the precepts.

If one understands that time flies and that life and death are a great matter, one should remain cautious throughout and persevere to the end just as at the beginning. Abiding in the pure stillness of Wuwei (non-action), nothing can compare with it. When merit and practice are complete, one can, together with the Nine Mysteries and Seven Ancestors—a general name for nine generations of ancestors and seven generations of ancestors—transcend the Three Realms: the Realm of Desire, the Realm of Form, and the Formless Realm.

If in life one merely chases fame and profit, one is like a walking corpse and moving bones. Contending for name and pursuing gain injures Shen (spirit) and depletes Qi, wearying the body. Deceiving Heaven and concealing things from Earth all day long, never keeping the gods in mind—all this is falling into the toil of the dusty world for the sake of children and household affairs, clinging single-mindedly to staying alive.

What, in the end, can all this busyness obtain? When the limit of impermanence arrives, a person is after all sent into the grave. Gold, silver, and jewels must all be cast aside; what can remain is only the good and evil of a lifetime, to serve as evidence. In the underworld, good and evil are reckoned with perfect clarity. When the pitiless karma-mirror—the mirror of legend that reflects the good and evil of the dead during life—shines upon one, only then does one find that the karmic offenses formerly committed were not slight. At that moment one wails aloud, regretting only that one did not cultivate from the start.

The master drew the form of a skeleton in order to exhort and guide, and the disciple thereby awakened a little.

Immortal maidens play weiqi at leisure, wholly absorbed, facing one another among ancient pines and weathered stones. A hand moves without deliberation, and a stone settles lightly on the board—who could foresee how victory and defeat will fall? In a brief moment the two play on without pause, placing stones turn by turn; this is the realm in which immortals roam freely and take their ease. Even if people of the dusty world exhaust their minds and pursue things with bitter effort, such leisure is not something they can readily grasp. Those who have attained the Dao (the Way) possess a joy that transcends the ordinary, and they do not set their minds on worldly winning and losing, nor on toil.

Striving after fame and profit is like playing Go. On the surface one chats and laughs at ease, yet calculations lie hidden in the heart. With their words people deceive one another, as if poison were wrapped in honey. Seeing even the slightest opening in another, they seize the chance to encroach, without a trace of compassion. They boast that their skill at the board is superb; once greed arises they heed no consequences, and in the end they are the first to fall into danger themselves. This is much like Sun Bin and Pang Juan matching wits against each other: they cast aside humaneness and righteousness and rely only on cunning deceit to mislead others.

People contend all day without rest and have not a moment of leisure. Their minds dwell constantly on “killing stones” and “fighting ko” (terms from the game of Go, meaning schemes to capture the opponent’s stones or to contest the position on the board); coming and going, they seek only to gain an advantage. One wrong move, and it is as if impermanence (death) suddenly descends; by then even a renowned physician such as Bian Que could not save them.

Eleven Poems Sung of Myself

In the days when I still lived in the ordinary world, I constantly exhausted every scheme of the mind. For what did I stir up disputes and harm others? I drew to myself those dear enemies of mixed joy and grievance, and remained foolish and unawakened to the end. Like a moth flying into the flame, I stayed obstinately deluded even after my body was scorched. Contending back and forth, I ultimately threw my life away over the affairs of sons and grandsons, wives and concubines.

Later I met Fengxian (the author’s master), and only then did I awaken. Turning back to examine myself, I understood that neither enemies nor kin could accompany me along the path of cultivating the Dao (the Way). All of them were as dangerous as wolves and vermin, tigers and leopards, snakes, scorpions, and foxes. Rather than keep such poisons close at hand, it was better to leave the dusty world and cultivate. When the merit of practice is complete, one mounts the clouds and returns to serve one’s original master.

Formerly I chased fame and profit, exhausting the mental strength of my attachments, and sank into willful passion, wealth, wine, and sensual indulgence. Thorns grew thick in my heart, as if they had become a whole forest. Only after meeting Fengxian did I begin to awaken, and I felt that the karmic offenses I had created in the past were truly grave. I therefore resolved to reform, and warned myself again and again that I must reform.

I wander between heaven and earth and befriend companions of the Dao who are like clouds and rosy mists, taking the bright moon as my companion and the clear wind as my neighbor. I live freely and at ease, and no longer rush about chasing and seeking. Even if some, because of poverty, abandon cultivation of the Dao and turn instead to pursue glory, gaining wealth, rank, and the respect of the crowd, I am unwilling to do so. I absolutely refuse to give up cultivating the Dao in exchange for these things.

In former days Shan Tong lived at home, weighed down all day by the heavy burden of the family. Each day he contended for fame and chased after profit—jealous, blaming, and greedy—his mind packed with sorrow and calculation, never knowing a moment of peace. Why should one cause one’s own kin to resent one another? He passed twenty-three years in this way.

While he was suffering, sunk upon a deluded path, Fengxian (the immortal master who transmits the methods of the Dao (the Way)) came to his side, determined to save this stubbornly deluded man. Only after two years did he finally awaken, leave his hometown, and set out on the path of cultivating the Dao. Now his mind is carefree and expansive, and within his own person he cultivates the “Seven Treasures Returning Elixir” (a Daoist term of cultivation centered on internal refinement). When the merit of his practice is complete, he will go to Pengying (the legendary immortal mountains) to pay his respects once more to his master.

In former days Shan Tong was busy chasing fame and profit, like a musk deer fleeing in fright, no longer master of his own body; his heart seemed boiled in scalding broth and roasted over fierce flames, without a moment of cool relief. Now he has left his hometown, his mind carefree and expansive, and within himself he cultivates the Seven Treasures Returning Elixir. When the merit of his practice is complete, he will go to Pengying to pay his respects once more to his master.

In former days Shan Tong was busy chasing fame and profit, and body and mind knew no peace. For the sake of his children and grandchildren he worried and brooded until grief seemed to tear his liver and bowels, yet he did not know what suffering he was undergoing—like a fish in a cauldron still swimming in the water, supposing itself perfectly at ease.

Later he met his master, and only then did his heart awaken. He understood that everything he had done before had instead wounded him like knives and spears. Once he had thought it through, he was seized with fear; he therefore went far from his hometown and devoted himself wholly to cultivating the Dao. He often prayed that even in dreams he would no longer cling to household affairs; he dared not give rise to feelings of attachment, nor dared he raise another thought to dwell upon the past. Whenever others asked him, sweat broke out all over his body and he was thrown into helpless confusion.

In former days Shan Tong was exceedingly foolish, even willing to give his life for his children and grandchildren. In the midst of hardship and distress, he suddenly received the deliverance of Fengxian. His master led him out of the bitter sea of delusion and set him toward the farther shore of longevity. Only then did he understand that he had been wrong before, taking the toil of supporting a household for a bitter grievance of exhaustion and injustice.

If anyone asks about the worldly life back home, he first wails aloud and then sings and dances to his heart’s content. Now he takes joy in cultivating the Dao, and his speech and bearing may appear somewhat foolish. How could others understand the reason? Only he himself knows that within it lies the primordial true source. The mysterious realm of Wuwei (non-action) manifested by “Shenguang Can” is precisely what his master transmitted.

People busy themselves through lifetime after lifetime, toiling to build their own nests, afraid only that their children and grandchildren will not fare well in days to come, their minds forever dwelling on what is to be done. They want them clothed and fed in abundance, living at ease, and able to sit back and enjoy song and music. For this they labor in every direction. As for whether they are willing to spare any thought for cultivating the Dao (the Way), they ought also to consider themselves. They keep at it until the body grows thinner day by day, white hair gradually appears, and the years have already started down the slope, yet they remain foolish and unawakened, while karmic offenses pile up ever more. Had Fengxian (the immortal who rescued the author) not reached out to save me, sooner or later I would have gone to present myself before King Yama. I came within an inch of plunging into an abyss ten thousand fathoms deep—how dangerous it was.

People live in the floating world, and the body too only sojourns here for a time, greedy for empty profit and fame. Like floating clouds, these gather and scatter without constancy, with no certainty and nothing to rely on. Such showy vanity is unreliable—like foam upon the water, a flash of fire on stone, and a lamp flame in the wind—gone in the blink of an eye. What a pity that no one understands, and instead takes these illusory things for glory. Sons and daughters are like golden shackles and jade locks; the halls become prison cells, fiery hells, and pits of delusion. Wives and concubines are like knives and swords; too much intimacy with them injures body and mind. The suffering that impermanence brings is the most severe; thought through carefully, it makes one tremble with dread. This startled me awake and turned me back, and I began to cultivate.

The endless family concerns of the dusty world are like a prison, binding people fast with every kind of desire—anger, wealth, wine, and sensual pleasure. For the sake of these things, people rush about and toil through every hardship. And so I awakened, turning the light back upon myself (turning inward and examining myself), and sighed that the unjust sufferings I had borne before were truly not worth speaking of. I could not go on, and broke into loud weeping, weeping without end.

Now I see it completely: wife and children are as if creditors from a previous life, entangling and pressing one another without cease—what affection is worth chasing after forever? Once one no longer clings to external conditions or sinks into love and attachment, the mind grows clear and still, and it becomes easier as well to harmonize Metal and Wood (a term of Neidan [internal alchemy], referring to the harmonizing of opposing forces such as Yin-Yang within the body). The light of Shen (spirit) shines in full splendor; this is the good fortune of enjoying the blessings of the Daluo immortal realm.

My master is as compassionate as Zichan (a grandee of the state of Zheng in the Spring and Autumn period, renowned for his benevolence), and I am like the fine fish (in legend, the fish that benefited when Zichan set them free); my children and grandchildren are like the pond-keeper (the person in the Mencius who was charged with raising the fish). Some release the fish out of compassion; others boil them and eat them, which is truly unkind. Kindness and resentment ought to be clearly distinguished. Setting aside hatred and the entanglements of family affection, one follows the master and the Perfected in cultivation. Cultivate the great Dao (the Way), and one can be spared the cycle of birth and death and leap clear of the bitter sea of delusion. The mundane mind must be cut away completely; if one constantly guards purity and stillness, good causes naturally take form. When the Kan tiger and the Li dragon (images in the art of Daoist Neidan, internal alchemy, standing for water and fire, Yin-Yang) sport with one another, a priceless treasure can be refined. Auspicious clouds coil round in layer upon layer, revealing the embryonic immortal (the immortal form attained when cultivation succeeds) and the sixteen-foot golden body (the tall golden dharma-body). The radiance of Shen (spirit) shines in splendor, and one may wander long in the immortal realm of Penglai, enjoying the pleasure of everlasting spring.

Why did I deliberately leave Ninghai, deliberately travel through Shaanyou, and deliberately come here? I devote myself to dwelling in a place ringed by walls, long holding fast to cultivation; I keep far from anger, wealth, wine, and sensual desire, seeking only purity and stillness, and devote myself to the work of nine times nine. Single-minded in will, wholehearted in intent, I seek out only companions on the Way who truly know me. I devote myself to accumulating genuine merit and practice, earnestly urging people to turn their hearts back toward the Dao; together with immortal friends amid the clouds I cultivate, refining the true treasure within the precious vase. I devote myself to turning toward the Jade Pass (the Golden Pass, an image in Neidan cultivation of the barrier of Jing, essence, and Qi, vital energy), gathering in the golden Qi, keeping far from wealth, wine, and sensual desire, seeking only purity and stillness, and devoting myself to the work of nine times nine. Single-minded in will, wholehearted in intent, I seek out only companions on the Way who truly know me; I devote myself to accumulating true merit and actual deeds, earnestly urging people to turn back toward the Dao, and together with immortal friends amid the clouds I cultivate, refining the true treasure within the precious vase. I devote myself to entering the Jade Pass and the Golden Lock (images of the passes and apertures in cultivation), and with fellow practitioners I drink the jade nectar of immortal wine. I wait with single-minded devotion for Master Fengxian to come and deliver me.

To live to seventy already counts as longevity, and those who truly reach that age are few. I am now forty-five; my body is already as if seven parts buried in the earth, with only a remnant of years left, like the last glow of the evening clouds. Only after meeting Fengxian did I begin to awaken. I truly all but lost my footing, and was nearly dragged away by the ghost messengers. I ought to have suffered in the offices of the underworld; now, instead, I can cultivate beyond the dust of the world. Free and unfettered, I grasp principles subtle and profound. The withered tree puts forth flowers once more; I obtain long life, and nature and life are made firm. When I depart in time to come, I shall go to Penglai and Yingzhou, adding one more immortal companion to the immortal realm.

Seeking Friends and Companions

Clad in a straw rain cape, staff in hand, I go to seek out friends. I ought originally to have suffered in the offices of the underworld; now, instead, I can cultivate beyond the dust of the world, free and unfettered, experiencing principles subtle and profound. The withered tree flowers anew; I obtain long life and make nature and life firm. When I depart in time to come, I shall go to Penglai and Yingzhou, to become an immortal companion in the immortal realm.

Clad in a straw rain cape and staff in hand, the mind is open and at ease, all because one has seen through the turmoil of the dusty world. All day long one gives free rein to song and dance, as unrestrained as Wang Qiao (a legendary immortal). One delights in playing with children, and at times keeps company with fishermen and woodcutters. With nothing weighing on the heart, one enjoys true joy and happiness, and also enters the realm of pure stillness and quiet.

In idle hours I visit the Chan master who dwells in the mountains, and my heart seems to follow the immortal crane through the clouds, flying over the bridge that spans the stream. Returning beneath the moon, I invite two or three intimate friends. Before the hermitage among the pines we take a little wine, play the qin and make music, and kindle incense in the censer. At the gathering we speak of nothing worldly, wishing only that in time to come we may together ascend to Danxiao (the immortal realm of which Daoism speaks).