《全真清规》

When a boy who is still young and ignorant first enters the gate of the Dao (the Way) and leaves household life, he should first seek out an enlightened teacher and then perform the rite of becoming a disciple. After leaving home, he must follow his teacher’s instruction, and only when he has grown up can he become a fully formed person. When a teacher accepts a disciple, he should first learn how deeply the boy understands the Dao and how deep his good roots are, then examine whether his family tradition is good or bad, and observe whether he himself is suited to cultivating the Dao, and only then decide whether to take him as a disciple. After accepting him, the teacher first has the disciple withdraw from secular life, change his clothing, and develop the bearing of an immortal and the air of the Dao, and only afterward instructs him. Cultivated in this way, he will surely achieve something in time to come.

The Most High says: “Constantly to know and abide by the standard is profound and far-reaching De (Virtue/Power), able to serve as a model for all people under Heaven.” What is called shi is the law, the rule, the pattern, and the measure of the world. These standards have existed since ancient times, while Daoist halls arose comparatively late. In teaching disciples, an enlightened teacher should begin with concrete, practicable lessons and regulations, and then lead them to study the way of Wuwei (non-action). Disciples of good capacity who practice at all times will gain something. A foolish and deluded teacher who does not understand himself, yet teaches his disciples to talk emptily of Wuwei, leaves both teacher and disciples still more foolish and confused. In this life the disciple depends on the teaching order; after death he falls into a cold and dark place, repaying the karmic debt created by words, and remains long trapped in the cycle of rebirth.

One who aspires to cultivate the Dao should draw near and serve an enlightened teacher, pay respects morning and evening, follow instruction, study the Jing (scriptures/classics), and observe the pure rules. Each day at dusk one should burn incense and light the lamps, offer ritual thanks to Heaven and Earth, pay homage to the sages and worthies, and attend the teacher. When these matters are finished, one gathers in body and mind, sits upright in stillness, gives rise to no delusive thoughts, keeps the spine straight, places the right foot underneath, rests the hands folded one upon the other, and sits quietly in silence, the mind not racing outward. One sits with eyes closed for one or two geng (an ancient unit of time, roughly equivalent to two or three hours) as the daily practice.

One sleeps until the fifth watch (roughly from three to five in the morning). Before it is announced that quiet cultivation has ended and activity is permitted, one should rise early, wash the face, comb the hair, and dress, preparing to serve the whole community. When the bell in the hall sounds the first time, the boys enter the hall first and stand in ranks inside according to order. When the bell sounds the second time, the senior Daoists of virtue enter the hall and stand in ranks outside. When the bell has finished sounding the third time, the person presiding enters the hall and stands in the center.

When the recitation of the Jing is over, the boys leave the hall first. When rites are held and the Jing is recited, the boys walk in front, and the order of the ranks in each hall is arranged in the same way. When the recitation is finished, the presider takes his seat. The boys bow from the waist, then make a circular salute to those present (bowing to the whole assembly at once). Everyone sits down together, and tea is then served. When the tea has been cleared away, the community disperses.

The boys then enter the teacher’s room, bow and salute, and await the teacher’s instructions: some study the scriptural teachings, some go to sweep, each according to what is assigned. On meeting an elder, one should cross both hands before the chest, turn slightly aside and cup the hands in greeting, and stand in attendance at the side. Only after the elder has passed may one turn and leave.

On meeting a guest, one should first pay respects and announce the guest to the elder, and have tea prepared. One first receives the host, then serves tea to the guest, and afterward stands in attendance with hands crossed. When the tea is cleared, the guest’s cup is taken first, then the host’s. When the guest rises, one should go out first to open the door and roll up the curtain, and only after the guest and the host have left should one follow. When accompanying the teacher in going out and coming in, one must not sit side by side with the teacher, but should stand in attendance with hands crossed. Whenever one enters or leaves, one should salute one’s companions, and when handing over or receiving objects one should also salute in thanks.

In one’s conduct one must not regard oneself as always right, nor speak at random. One should put aside stray thoughts, constantly practice kindness, and in the heart be mindful of the Dao and contemplate the True. In walking one should slow one’s steps; in speaking one should use a soft and quiet voice. One should aid those in difficulty, treat well those who come and go, be broad-minded, compassionate and gentle, help others and benefit all beings, and continually accumulate merit. Cultivating in this way, the Dao is not far off.

When one abandons secular life and is invested with the hairpin, crown, and robes, the hairpin, the crown, and the other ritual implements are first placed on the altar table of the ancestral masters. The assembly sits gathered together, bows in farewell to relatives of the lay family, and then changes clothes, shoes, socks, and the like. The person receiving the rite then kneels before the image of the ancestral master, and the initiating master (the master who presides over and leads the rite of entering the Dao [the Way]) combs that person’s hair and invests them with the hairpin, crown, and robes. The Daoist assembly ascends the hall, begins the recitation of scripture, and leads everyone in invoking the holy ones. The person receiving the rite stands before the incense table; the biaobai (the person who reads the blessing text aloud during the rite) reads the text. The recipient performs three bows, offers incense, then steps back and performs six bows. When the prayers and recitations are finished, they enter the Hall of the True Officials to recite scripture; the rite performed before the image of the ancestral master is carried out in the same way.

After the scripture recitation ends, the assembly sits once more, and incense and candles are arranged according to the ritual. Led by the initiating master before their own master, the person receiving the rite kneels and bows three times, receives the incense, bows again, then steps forward and personally presents the blessing text, kneeling before their own master. The biaobai takes the blessing text and reads it aloud, and the recipient listens as their own master transmits the Dao. They then perform three bows and kowtow. When the rite is complete, they carry the table of incense and candles before the elders and, in turn, offer incense and pay respects to each elder, the ceremonial count being the same as before.

When this is finished, they next enter the refectory, personally hand the blessing text to their own master, kneel and bow, and the biaobai receives the text and reads it aloud while the recipient listens as their own master transmits the Dao; they then again perform three bows and kowtow. Afterward they carry the table of incense and candles and, in sequence, come before the elders to offer incense and pay respects, the ceremonial count being the same as before.

Next, offerings to the ancestral masters are set out in the refectory. The person receiving the rite offers incense and performs three bows. The assembly stands on either side, offers incense, and performs six bows, and everyone is invited to partake of the meal. When the meal is over, they rise and see the guests off; after returning from seeing the guests off, they go together to the kitchen to express their thanks.

In daily affairs one should act fittingly in every circumstance; be strict with oneself and benefit others; subdue the thoughts of the mind and dispel distracting thoughts; revere teachers and elders, be affectionate toward fellow followers of the Dao, and give rise to no worldly attachments; constantly examine one’s own faults, devote oneself to cultivating one’s fundamental nature, seek instruction from seniors, and carefully observe the pure regulations.

Youfang Lishi (Wandering Forth and Honoring the Master)

When traveling to visit monasteries, if you have not yet called upon a teacher of genuine virtue, first set your luggage and implements in good order. On first arriving at a Daoist monastery, look along the western corridor to see whether the words “Xijian” (“Rest the Shoulders”) or “Zhuhe” (“The Crane Alights”) are written there; that is the place to set down your burden. If you mean to stay for a long time, lay the carrying pole flat and level; if you are only passing through, set the load so that its front and rear stand at different heights. After leaning the pole against the wall, take off the changyi (the outer robe worn by a Daoist priest) and drape it over your left arm.

If the zhitang (the person who manages the daily living arrangements of the Daoist community) or the zhike (the person who receives guests) comes out to greet you, put on the changyi and perform the qishou bow proper to guest and host. When asked about your background, answer that you come from such-and-such a place, such-and-such a prefecture, and such-and-such a monastery, and give your master’s surname. When the questions and replies are finished, you will be invited inside.

If you intend to stay at the monastery for a time, put everything except your bedding into your bag. After you have clearly stated your origins and the exchange is complete, you may enter. Once the bed is made, wash your feet and change your clothes, then go to pay your respects to the zhike, bowing and saying: “Today I respectfully greet you, Venerable Zhike of Great Virtue. May your daily life be peaceful and well, and your blessings deep and ample. I have long heard that this is a quiet place for secluded cultivation, and I have come especially to pay my respects. I am grateful beyond measure that you have taken me in, allowed me to spread my bedding and settle, and given me the purified meal.” When you have finished, perform the qishou bow.

The zhike then presents you to the person who presides over the monastery. Bow again and say: “Today I respectfully greet you, Tidian Zhenren (the Daoist elder in charge of the monastery’s affairs). May your daily life be tranquil, and your blessings and long life pure and clear. I have long heard that your Daoist manner is broad and far-reaching, and I have come especially into your presence to behold your honored countenance. I am grateful beyond measure that you have taken me in, allowed me to spread my bedding and settle, and given me the purified meal.” When you have finished, perform the qishou bow.

If the host keeps the guest for tea, on rising to take leave offer thanks, saying: “Just now I presumed to call at the fangzhang (the abbot’s residence). That you yourself prepared tea to receive me leaves me grateful beyond measure, and both awed and ill at ease.” When you have finished, perform the qishou bow. When the courtesy is complete, return to your own lodging.

The host replies: “This mountain is fortunate that so honored a guest has arrived; that we did not come forward in time to welcome you is truly a cause for shame.” Then, rising to urge the guest to stay, the host says: “This cloister is quiet and little frequented, and the fare in the refectory is very plain. I earnestly ask you, a person of high attainment, to remain a few days longer and thereby benefit the Daoist manner of this monastery. We admire you greatly and hope you will stay; our gratitude is beyond measure.” When this is said, the qishou bow is performed.

Seniority at the Hall Gate (Tangmen Jiela) (section title; “jiela” refers to the number of years since a Daoist received the precepts, and is commonly used to indicate seniority)

The person charged with receiving newly arrived members of the Daoist community must first have the newcomer stay temporarily for three days. He is then invited to the storehouse hall, where his credentials are examined and it is verified where, and in which year, month, and day, he sought a teacher and received the Dao (the Way). He is registered in the blue register (the volume that records the names and status of Daoist practitioners). Lodging is then arranged. The blue register is consulted, and quarters are assigned according to surname and place in the listing. Each person must know his own position and also know those who lodge with him, and must conduct himself according to the precept seniority (jielai, the standing of Daoist practitioners measured by the years since they received the precepts) fixed by the length of time since he entered the Dao. Whether one comes earlier or later in order, all should yield to one another according to age, generational standing, and the closeness or distance of relationship. Going up to the shrine and entering the hall must follow proper sequence; the daily activities of walking, standing, sitting, and lying down are likewise arranged by senior and junior. Each observes his precept seniority and must not overstep the distinction between superior and inferior. In keeping with the order of the Daoist cloister, one follows the ritual hierarchy of rank among those beyond the mundane world (referring to those who have left home to cultivate the Dao).

Regulations for Zuobo

Zuobo is the prescribed practice of gathering the community to sit in stillness and cultivate. Each year the assembly begins on the first day of the tenth month and ends in the middle of the first month, after the winter solstice and the New Year, amounting in all to about one hundred days. All who enter the hall to take part must do so of their own free will. Everyone is, at root, cultivating for himself: life and death are the great matter, and human life is impermanent and brief. They should therefore refine one another through mutual study and discussion, seek instruction from virtuous teachers and elders, and submit to the rules.

During zuobo, conduct is distinguished as movement or stillness: slow movement in accordance with the rules is permitted, but while sitting in stillness one may not stir at will. If someone’s spirit sinks into drowsiness, if he nods and sways, or if his body leans askew, the zhubo (the person who presides over zuobo and maintains order) first makes a round with the warning tablet in hand, hangs the tablet on the drowsy person, knocks three times, and then leaves; afterward he gently removes the tablet and lets the person rise slowly. If, during the inspection, others are found in violation, the later offender takes over the warning. Before zuobo has ended, before the bell has sounded, and before the stillness tablet has been changed, anyone who enters or leaves without cause, speaks, or shakes the body, failing to keep the rules, is to be punished.

All who violate the above are dealt with by the fubo (the person who assists the one presiding); the zhubo is responsible for reprimand and punishment. A first offense requires an explanation before the assembly; a second is punished by serving tea; a third means expulsion from the zuobo hall. When the circumstances are serious, the matter is handled according to the regulations established by the patriarchs of the pure rules.

One day and one night are divided into twelve bo, corresponding to the twelve double-hours. “Three stillnesses and nine mixtures” corresponds to the three origins and the nine Qi (vital energy), and is also called “three returns and nine reversions.” Of these, “the three origins and the nine Qi” and “three returns and nine reversions” are technical terms of Daoist cultivation; here they are used to explain the schedule of zuobo and the ideas that guide its practice.

Each day, at the fifth watch, during the yin hour (about three to five in the morning), when the kaijing board—the clapper that ends the night’s silence—is heard, everyone washes and pays homage before the sacred image of the True Lord. At the mao hour (about five to seven), they take the morning meal; at the chen hour (about seven to nine), they sit together informally; at the si hour (about nine to eleven), the stillness bell is sounded in three rounds, and all sit quietly, applying themselves according to the proper method. This is also called “according with the Three Origins and the Nine Qi (vital energy)” or “the three returns and nine reversions,” expressions used in Daoist cultivation.

At the wu hour (about eleven to one in the afternoon), they go to the meal; at the wei hour (about one to three), they sit informally; at the shen hour (about three to five), they enter stillness as before; at the you hour (about five to seven), they hold the evening assembly; at the xu hour (about seven to nine), they sit informally and drink tea; at the hai hour (about nine to eleven), they enter stillness as before and practice according to the method. At the zi hour (about eleven at night to one in the morning), they chant and practice poetry, so as to ward off drowsiness. The lead bowl-master, the person responsible for guiding the relevant rites, begins the singing; each passage is sung three times and must not be sung any more. At the chou hour (about one to three in the morning), the assembly is released, and everyone may arrange the time freely. The assistant bowl-master, who helps the lead, attends single-mindedly to the bowl and must not lapse into a long silence; all are to keep a heart of sincere reverence.

There are three situations in which one does not rise. “Not rising” means that, while the community resides in the permanent abbey, the guest prefect, who receives visitors, or the hall steward, who manages affairs within the hall, answers, receives, and sees guests off. The rest should not get up and move about, lest they disturb the order of the hall.

The first is not rising during seated meditation. One clears and settles the mind, harmonizes the breath, inquires into one’s original face, and silently turns the hidden workings of the heart. The body rests as steady as empty space, neither swaying nor stirring. However others may come and go, one sits quietly with a sincere heart and practices according to the rule.

The second is not rising while reciting the Jing (scripture). Each person recites with full attention and upright bearing, evening the voice and the breath and grasping the meaning of the text. The ear follows the sound of the recitation and the eyes remain intent; the voices of the assembly accord with one another and join from one to the next. Even if people pass back and forth, each stays intent on recitation, takes refuge in the practice, and carries it out according to the rule.

The third is not rising when going to the meal. The mind dwells on the great Dao (the Way) and on truth; one remains clear and settled, with the spirit gathered and the breath peaceful, and silently receives the offering. When the bowl and utensils are set out, one makes no sound; after entering the dining hall, one does not converse. Whatever others may do, one takes the meal with reverence and observes the rules of the hall.

Substance and function in Quanzhen (Complete Perfection).

The Patriarch established the teaching, and immortals, perfected beings, sages, and worthies deliver and transform the people of the world. They open a path toward the Great Vehicle and point out the vital crossing that leads to the myriad wonders, so that people may return to the original source, awaken to principle, guard against delusive thoughts, and preserve their true nature. In cultivating the Dao (the Way), what matters most is a mind of loyal sincerity and pure stillness; one must strive to make the original nature complete, plain, and genuine. Know deeply that human life is brief, and taste the supreme joy of long life and lasting vision. Therefore, do not dwell on fame and profit, and do not cling to worldly affairs. Understand the great principle of cultivating the Dao, taking a heart as pure as gold and jade as the foundation; nourish the innate primordial Qi (vital energy), and keep yourself vigilant with an aspiration as firm as bedrock and as clear as ice and snow.

To aid the people of the world and benefit all beings, one must thoroughly grasp the principles involved; to temper oneself and return to the original source, one must gather every virtue into one’s own person. Toward those whose views are biased and obstinate, and toward those who have cultivated, realized the Dao, and already understand the principle of perfect harmony, there is no need to argue, nor to boast or contend over who is right and who is wrong. Even while dwelling in a pure and quiet temple, one should also be able to live together with others in the cloud hall (the place in a Daoist monastery where the community resides and takes meals together). Do not look only at the faults and shortcomings of others; first remove your own self-righteousness and overbearing manner. Let the mind be open and at ease, getting along harmoniously with people wherever you are; let your capacity be broad, and treat others and handle affairs with warmth, kindness, and humility.

When going to the morning and evening meals, join the hands in respect, keep a sincere mind, and sit quietly and upright. When paying homage to the sages and perfected beings morning and evening, perform the rites with reverence and proceed with measured steps. Those whose cultivation is lofty have a bearing that is orderly and dignified; those of low character appear careless and absurd in their conduct. When consulting teachers about the true pivot of cultivating the Dao and investigating the essentials of the mysterious and subtle, be respectful and earnest; when inquiring into the Dao, also express reverence with careful sincerity. Comprehend the myriad principles and return to the original source; gather the pure and true nature so that it may exercise its wondrous function. Suddenly open the eye of the Dao, and calmly contemplate in stillness amid what is hidden, subtle, and mysterious; let mind and Shen (spirit) be clear and penetrating, and turn the gaze back upon yourself through luminous spiritual response. When others oppose you, be tolerant and yielding; when offended, do not mock or rebuke. Treat fellow disciples with humility and respect, restrain yourself, and meet those who are unworthy with calm.

In studying the canons of the teaching and expounding the Jing (scriptures/classics), earnestly investigate the source of spiritual nature, and do not indulge in empty talk or frivolous jest. Grasp the deep meaning behind the words of the sages, and penetrate the original beginning of your own nature. Only when inquiry and consultation are keen and thorough does one attain profound learning; only by exhausting principle and reading widely with understanding can one truly experience the joy of Wuwei (non-action). When thought is unobstructed and the disposition is lucid and natural, there is inexhaustible true joy; when the breath is harmonious, yielding, and empty, and the spirit is still and outstanding, body and mind unite with the Great Void. Be peaceful, clear, and gentle like water, and also free and untrammeled like clouds, able both to unfurl and to gather in.

To penetrate the great Dao and illuminate the original mind, everything depends on earnestly practicing true cultivation. Abstain from arrogance and indulgence, and you will not fall into partiality and deviance; be honest and sincere toward others, and you can return to what is centered and upright. Remove your own faults, and you will often be peaceful and at ease; do not regard yourself as always right, and you will not contend with others. When passions and desires subside, the inner heart grows tranquil; when dusty cares are cleared away, the mind is free of stain. In handling affairs and making plans, do not decide and act on your own; in conducting the community’s business, take part in collective labor according to the arrangements of the changzhu (the monastic community of the Daoist temple). Cunning, laziness, and opportunistic scheming ruin De (Virtue/Power) and invite fault; jealousy and deceit harm oneself and may even bring disaster. Chasing after sounds and sights and striving to outdo others is the ordinary mind; letting go of the distinction between self and others draws one near the realm of the sages. Therefore, those who penetrate the great Dao often accumulate De in secret, and the perfected ones silently cultivate merit where no one notices.

Always preserve the mind of the Dao and avoid worldly customs; strictly observe the precepts, and cut off all improper words and deeds and delusive consciousness. If cultivation is sustained with perseverance, one will at last realize the realms spoken of in Daoism, such as the Nine Reversions and the Six Penetrations. Indulging attachment and desire leads one to chase the realms of deviant spirits; craving the pleasures of mouth and belly causes one to fall among hungry ghosts. Often sit in stillness, so that wisdom illuminates the inner heart like a bright lamp; do not give free rein to passion and desire, lest you become lost and benighted. Let aspiration rest in equality, and let the heart delight in being of one accord with others. On seeing wealth and goods, do not seize them out of selfishness; in responding to every kind of affair, do your utmost to be impartial and loyal. Words and conduct must accord with what is timely, and in handling matters one must first discern clearly; if you find yourself biased, correct it at once, and if you commit a fault, remedy it early. When the workings of the mind are crooked, one readily comes into conflict with others at every turn; when the disposition is upright and steady, everyone is convinced. Arrogance and pride make the temperament inevitably frivolous; flattery, negligence, deceit, and fraud likewise leave one’s lot with little blessing. Superior cultivators of the Dao are generous in bearing and nurture body and mind; those of high insight keep themselves humble.

Do not disgrace the pure and lofty teaching, nor violate the rules of the hall, lest you suffer punishment and shame. Revere and recognize the causes and conditions of those who came before; each person should be dignified and solemn in bearing. Concentrate the spirit and hold fast without wavering; preserve and nourish primordial Qi so that it does not decline and waste away. When the body of the golden lotus is accomplished, one at last ascends to the Jade Realm; one roams together with Xuanyuan (the Dao) in the time before Heaven and Earth began, and shares the carefree joy that precedes the Image Sovereign (the primordial Dao).

Heaven is round and Earth is square, each with its own rule and measure; when spiritual nature and life are both full and ample, one can accord with the Way of the golden immortal.

The ocean of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) Dao (the Way)—the Quanzhen school of Daoism—is vast and deep, and the minds of the immortals and sages are likewise as profound as the sea’s abyss. In the bowl-chamber one discerns the principle of Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), and it is as if a pot-heaven (an immortal realm) were held within the heart. The openings of the bowl run through from above to below, like a numinous spring surging upward; the center of the bowl is clear to the very bottom, so that the spiritual water rises. Above, one looks up to the sovereign within emptiness and stillness; below, settling there to dwell, one is soft and yielding like a deep spring. Still the waves within the mind, and the mind becomes like blue-green water; calm the inner wind and billows, and the substance of one’s nature becomes like a golden lotus. When the one mind sinks into quiet and is not altered, the three minds of past, present, and future are all clear and free of obstruction. Do not let thoughts roll on in an endless flow; only then can one rest securely in stillness and concentration. If one can rest in stillness, one can also meet changes both square and round. [The bowl-chamber is the place where Quanzhen Daoists sit in stillness and cultivate. The bowl is at once a vessel and a symbol of the mind’s emptiness, stillness, and rounded completeness.]

Sitting with the bowl to practice concentration, and entering the chamber to cultivate one’s work, lets mind and Shen (spirit) open through amid emptiness and stillness, and also brings one gradually to rounded harmony through actual practice. One is to experience heaven and earth within a pot of half a sheng, and to nurture feeling and nature in seclusion within a single bowl-chamber; to merge with the ancestral Qi (vital energy) of the Mysterious Origin, and to stir the true wind that endures without ceasing. When the myriad methods are thoroughly penetrated, the Crimson Towers (the immortal palaces so called in Daoism) are pure and solemn; when dusty thoughts are washed away, the Numinous Palace (the inner palace of mind and spirit) is bright and clean. Companions in cultivation should be single-minded, respect one another, and bring their aspirations into accord.

In the main, cultivation calls for gathering in one’s thoughts and guarding them inwardly with full attention, so that desire returns to original nature. Daily activity and rest should above all be settled and regular, and food and drink must not be taken to excess. When delusive thoughts subside, the original Shen can be silent and yet clearly illuminating; when the true breath is harmonized, the life of wisdom can course through freely. On entering the sitting, draw in the spiritual light and silently empty the mind; on emerging from concentration, slowly turn back to observe the inner mind, and only then rise unhurriedly. When drowsiness comes on, people often nod and sway without noticing; when the obstruction of dull stupor suddenly appears, they likewise often fail to notice that they have opened their mouths and are gasping. During inspection rounds, therefore, one must give reminders with full attention, and warning notices are posted in order to correct these faults. One should examine oneself and remain modest and yielding; do not be muddled and self-satisfied, nor forceful and obstinate.

Cultivation is fundamentally for transcending birth and death; do not, on its account, fall into argument with one another. Leave dullness and distraction in good time, and rouse your spirits. First bow reverently to the immortals and sages, then turn and thank the fellow cultivators who have watched over you. In the heart there should be awe and gladness; do not give rise to anger or stir up irritation. In this way the mind is naturally at ease and Qi is peaceful, and within the pot-heaven one is happy as on a spring day. To restrain oneself and repay kindness is the way of a superior practitioner; to harbor resentment and instead nurse a grudge is the conduct of a petty person. Do not take yourself to be always right, putting on an empty show of falseness; reflect on your faults, and richly nurture a plain and simple nature.

If one looks closely into the rules of the former sages and the meaning of the bowl as taught by the patriarchs, refining Jing (essence) and returning it to the root is the source that the bowl symbolizes, and the return of feeling to nature is the principle that the bowl embodies. The form of the bowl is round and complete, symbolizing Qianyuan, the Creative Origin; its interior is empty, like Taishi (the primordial state before heaven and earth had separated). The myriad phenomena can all appear within it, and the principles of creative transformation are all contained there as well. If anything leaks away, mind and spirit sink without one’s noticing; if not a single drop escapes outward, they suddenly rise. When the state of mind is clear as ice, one can awaken to returning to the root and going back to the source; by watching the bowl float and sink, one can also understand the principle of turning back to observe oneself. Broadly speaking, this uses non-being to explain being, and lodges empty principle in a concrete thing. Cultivation requires the guidance of teachers and companions, and one must also apply effort in person before one can fully penetrate it.

One should inquire into the original condition before one’s father and mother gave birth, and constantly turn one’s reflection back upon the place where body and mind first begin to stir. A cultivator who is truly firm in resolve must be humble and observant of propriety, and draw near to the correct Dao; companions who are strange and arrogant should be gently kept at a distance. Hugong, the Elder of the Pot, lived in a small and humble room, yet had inexhaustible true joy; Yan Hui ate coarse tea and plain rice, yet could still be content in himself. Emulate the sages and immortals who dwell hidden in quiet places, and also emulate the perfected, whose bodies are in the marketplace while their hearts dwell in deep seclusion. Rest content in purity and stillness, take delight in what is quiet and plain, and regard life in the bowl-chamber with care. To live together with fellow cultivators in a communal Daoist monastery is a bond of affinity rarely met across many lifetimes and hard to encounter from lives gone by. All refine the true amid limpid emptiness and clarity, and together share Shiqing (the initial azure Qi spoken of in Daoism); within the empty, still dwelling light arises, and together they rest in Taisu (the original condition of simplicity, purity, and stillness).

From the beginning of cultivation to its end, from morning until night, one must keep applying effort. One must not change one’s resolve midway; only after completion may staying or leaving be as one wishes. Those of high understanding are broad of mind, free and untrammeled as white clouds; those who are rigid and foolish cling and are blocked, as if shrouded in black mist. At both the morning and evening sessions one must cultivate closely and without break, so as to nourish the Shen; cultivating with steady persistence for a hundred days lets the breath gather and the foundation grow firm. Daily movement should be easy and unhurried; food and drink should be enough to sustain one’s strength, and clothing need only suffice against the cold. Excessive enjoyment throws the organs out of order; when nourishment is properly adjusted, Shen and Qi remain constantly at peace. One should set one’s will on austere practice, even to the point of having no regard for sleep or food; ever willing to be tempered by a mind of silent contemplation, one should also spare no effort in returning to original genuineness. When Qi and Shen have been nurtured to stability, both nature and life are naturally preserved.

Cultivation can link the Three Powers of heaven, earth, and humanity, and enter the wondrous realm of the Limitless; the six directions open through, and the state of mind is as vast as the Great Void. This is enough to repay the kindness of patrons who offer support with sincere hearts, and enough to repay the hosts who receive one and arrange lodging (providing a registered stay for a traveling Daoist). Thereby one suddenly passes beyond empty illusions and long abides in peace and joy in the true Dao. Ah—to leave the realm of arising and ceasing, to go beyond the limits of heaven and earth’s creative fashioning; to roam and chant in the realm of Prior Heaven, to wander freely within the Great Dao, to linger in the realm of the Limitless, and to enjoy in peace the joy of what is originally genuine. Such ease and freedom is the highest realm of Quanzhen cultivation; such loftiness and solemn dignity lets one stand alone and be honored by all. Since one already dwells within the Mysterious Gate (a Daoist order), one should observe its teachings; if one wishes to reach the farther shore of the Great Dao, one must rely on the boat of compassion (the vessel that ferries living beings across, a metaphor for the teachings and for cultivation).

The principle of the Dao (the Way) is profound and subtle, reaching even before Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), and is not easy to see. Thus many throughout the world seek the Dao, yet few truly comprehend it. The Dao is empty and abides in Wuwei (non-action). The natural Qi (vital energy) that surges through heaven and earth, and the arising of the myriad things through the interaction of Yin-Yang, may appear to be deliberate action, yet each follows its own natural order. The present age is already very far from high antiquity.

Those who cultivate the Dao practice on their own, each keeping to their proper station, and in daily conduct and bearing they must not transgress the rules. We are now fortunate to dwell in a pure and quiet place, where we have privately formed a Daoist hall, welcoming good friends who have come from a thousand li away and gathering fellow believers from every quarter who hold the faith in their hearts. We therefore set down these precepts, hoping that all will take care to observe them.

Anyone who violates the laws of the state shall be expelled from the Daoist hall. Anyone who steals property and presents it to elders or superiors shall have their robes and bowl—the Daoist’s clothing and implements of practice—burned, and shall be expelled. Anyone who spreads gossip and disrupts the order of the hall shall be punished with the bamboo rod, a bamboo instrument of discipline, and then expelled. Anyone who breaks any one of the prohibitions concerning wine, sensual desire, wealth, anger, and the eating of meat shall be punished and expelled. Anyone who is crafty and cunning, lazy and opportunistic, jealous or deceitful shall be disciplined and expelled. Anyone whose conduct is unrestrained, who is proud and arrogant, and who does not act according to the rules observed by all shall be punished with the fast, a restricted meal serving as the penalty. Anyone who shouts loudly or acts in a hasty and rough manner shall be punished with incense, the offering of incense serving as the penalty. Anyone who speaks strange and absurd words, jokes, or leaves the gate of the hermitage without cause shall be punished with oil, the offering of oil serving as the penalty. Anyone who is inattentive in their duties, or sly and idle, shall be punished with tea, the offering of tea serving as the penalty. Those whose offenses are comparatively slight shall all be punished with prostrations, ritual bows serving as the penalty.

I respectfully explain to all: we have widely invited kindred spirits—those able to grasp the principles—and we now conduct ourselves according to this set of rules. Confucius said, “When three travel together, there must be one among them who can serve as my teacher.” Dwelling together in one room, we ought to be diligent with one another and mutually exhort and instruct one another. Rules and standards cannot surpass the highest good, nor is firm strength equal to gentleness. Even the sage examines himself again and again; self-examination is clearly of great importance.

We have been fortunate to meet an enlightened teacher and to hear the teachings of sages and worthies. If we do not practice in accordance with those teachings, how can we claim to pursue the highest good? I now make this known to the entire assembly of followers of the Dao (the Way), and ask everyone to remain constantly alert and watchful, and not to transgress. Once these prohibitions and precepts are observed, men and women must not mix indiscriminately or indulge themselves at will. Bear in mind that the food and drink offered by patrons of the ten directions is not easily obtained; if one does not cherish the time and idly wastes the days, one betrays that offering. Only careful cultivation can make the mind of the Dao steadfast. If the precepts are not kept, one may well hinder one’s prospects in cultivating the Dao. Please consider this carefully. This notice is hereby posted.

Liaozhenzi’s Address on Ascending the Hall

Note: In the original text, the passage from “fortunate to meet an enlightened teacher” through “do not go so far as to transgress” appears twice. One sentence is unclear in meaning; the rendering above is a generalized understanding based on context.

The Holy Ancestor of Mysterious Origin (Xuanyuan Shengzu, the honorific by which Daoism venerates Laozi) broadly opened every manner of profound method. The Great Dao (the Way) of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) takes as its purpose the skillful teaching and transformation of all living beings. The immortal of the Jade Pool, Perfected Chongyang, founded the Seven Golden Lotuses (the seven principal early branches of the Quanzhen tradition). Perfected Changchun, amid the immortal parks of Langyuan and Qionglin, was like jade blossoms in full flourish, with a great host of disciples beneath his gate. Although the lines of transmission branch apart and their lineages differ, in the end the myriad leaves return to the root; although what the various schools hand down is not the same, they are at last as a hundred rivers returning to the sea.

In every region teaching communities are established, gathering companions of the Dao from all under Heaven; everywhere affinities are formed and the teaching is raised up, drawing together friends who cultivate the Way from every place. Even those who dwell in thatched huts and grass cottages are to join in building solemn halls and Daoist monasteries; even those clad in paper jackets and hemp robes are granted the favor of the star crown and the moon pendants. It may be said that human beings are able to exalt the Great Dao and to set forth the rules and standards left by the sages of old, and that the methods of the Dao are likewise made manifest through human beings, opening the eyes of generations to come.

In the Hall of Realizing the True there ought, from the beginning, to be not a single thread of care entangling the heart; along the paths by which the various works of merit are cultivated, it is precisely fitting that everyone strive together. Those who stand above should be magnanimous, kind, and gentle; those who stand below should constantly cherish a mind of reverence and compliance. If one contends and disputes with a worldly heart, the house tradition of those who have realized the mysterious principle cannot appear; if one regards others with the eye of the Dao, the cultivation tradition of the line of Perfected Danyang, Wang Chuyi, can be carried on.

All of you were once the kindred of immortals and perfected ones who had transcended the dusty world; now you have become dharma-kin within the same school (teachers and friends who cultivate the Way together). While still in the world you jointly bring the fruits of the Dao to completion; having gone beyond the ordinary, you together take your places in the ranks of the immortals. Those who leave the household to cultivate the Dao should study deeply with clear and discerning sight; resolute persons who depart the dust of the world should examine and reflect upon themselves with sincere hearts. If one is to discourse at length upon the hidden mysteries and the work of cultivation, one must still have regard for the weariness of the assembly, who have stood long to listen.

I bow to all my companions in the Dao, and respectfully ask that you take good care of yourselves.

The regulatory notice of Perfected Changchun (a proclamation of the rules of the teaching).

Dwelling in the hermitage, one ought to be pure and tranquil, plain and detached, at ease and at peace, taking clear insight into original nature as the root and the nurturing of life as one’s daily practice. In ordinary life one should be gentle and humble, kind and generous, taking compassion as the foundation and the skillful aiding of others as the gateway of conduct in the world. When among others, always keep a humble mind; when cultivating alone in stillness, do not allow worldly distracting thoughts to arise.

Daily labor should be undertaken according to one’s strength and must not be excessive. Clothing and food need only be in due measure; do not be lavish. When reckoning the hermitage’s grain and provisions, do not hoard what remains. In acquiring personal clothing, one must not covet excess. If the changzhu—the property held in common for the hermitage’s use—has a surplus, it may be used to assist poor people passing by, or for going out to practice the Dao (the Way) and form affinities, or to prepare vegetarian offerings and hold ritual assemblies.

From morning to night, do not become absorbed in vain and illusory matters; one should at every moment discern the true Dao. Sweeping and removing dust, scrubbing pots and cauldrons, drawing water and carrying firewood, cooking and tending to affairs—all these should be done with selfish intention set aside, and one must not give rise to anger on their account. Each person dwells in a separate room and cultivates the Dao with a quiet mind; each shares in the tasks and takes charge of one duty. One may also rotate through different kinds of work, thereby tempering mind and nature, but one must not stubbornly treat a particular task as the sole mode of cultivation, nor pick faults with one another or argue over right and wrong. One should gather and restrain one’s thoughts, eliminate the distinction between self and other, remain untouched by the seduction of sound and form, let go of attachment to the body and to cleverness and intelligence, and maintain a clear, quiet state of mind free of desire.

When one meets cultivators of other teachings, such as Buddhism and Confucianism, all are to be treated equally; one must not slight them. Without cause one must not leave the hermitage; at night the gate should be closed early, and opened again at daybreak. When someone brings offerings, receive them in the ordinary manner; do not regard them differently because they have given no material donation.

Wandering cultivators—Daoists who travel from place to place—who come to visit may stay temporarily for three days. If a person is of excellent character and discernment, one may invite him to remain and reside; if no aspiration to cultivate the Dao is evident, let him continue on elsewhere. One should also examine their credentials and learn the reason for the visit. If the circumstances are unclear, someone may be concealing their identity and practicing deception, which would be improper. One must also guard against the foolish and the crafty, who may use words to confuse others, damage the reputation of the Daoist community, harm the hermitage, or constantly slander. When such persons are encountered, they should be sent away.

If someone comes to the hermitage requesting to leave household life, one must not receive them on one’s own authority. One should first observe their aspiration to cultivate the Dao and the extent of their awakening, and also learn of their family’s tradition and their moral character. Those of high discernment may be guided and taught; the dull and confused should be advised to withdraw. If affairs are to be arranged in the hermitage, one should first consult the head of the hermitage, then deliberate with the whole community of Daoists. Leaving household life is not a matter of sooner or later, nor of being older or younger; whoever can understand the principles and penetrate the original mind may be called a superior person—one accomplished in cultivation.

Whenever one goes out to solicit alms and proclaim the teaching, one must not falsely invoke the master’s name, nor privately assume the name of the hermitage, to demand wealth from donors—patrons who make offerings—for one’s own use. This is privately appropriating the communal property. Heaven sees clearly and will certainly punish such conduct. These rules are now made public; all should know them and observe them.

A human life is hard to obtain, and to be born in the Central Lands is not easy either. If property rightly offered to sustain the permanent holdings of a Daoist monastery is taken by an individual for personal expenses, that is privately appropriating what belongs to the community. Heaven above is watching and will by no means let the matter pass lightly. This notice is therefore specially posted, and all should know of it.

A human life is hard to obtain, birth in the Central Lands is not easy, and the true teaching is also hard to encounter. To possess all three of these favorable conditions at once is the greatest good fortune. What is more, the various immortal perfected have now appeared in the world. They have already raised the ladder for ascending to Heaven and the boat for crossing the sea of suffering, and have quietly revealed the profound and subtle principles; we cannot fail to respond. One should suddenly awaken to how swiftly time flies, and understand that worldly conditions are empty, fleeting, and clamorous; at all times look up to the noble bearing of the ancient sages, and everywhere follow the example of those of penetrating understanding who return to simplicity and purity. One should resolutely leave this dusty world, which is like a pit of fire, and advance toward a place of cool clarity and peace; cast off worldly toil and long abide in a realm of freedom. Do not wait until old age draws near before acting, nor suppose that what comes after death may still be left unattended. Since one has already awakened...

One ought to reform and turn toward the good with absolute resolve, and not proceed in a hesitant, half-hearted way. If greed and anger are not cut off completely, how can the field of the heart (the inner mind) ever become pure and still? Only by severing attachment and desire can one make oneself a vessel fit to receive the methods of the Dao (the Way). If one does not awaken to the true mind, one will in the end still fall into a state as empty as a dream; only by breaking free of the net of passion and love and leaping clear of the cage of ordinary life can one ascend to the Purple Prefecture, the homeland of the immortals (the immortal realm spoken of in Daoism), forever leave the turmoil of the red dust, and return to purity and stillness.

With a goosefoot staff in hand, one wanders by cloud and water for three thousand li; wearing but half a patched robe (the mended garment worn by Buddhist and Daoist renunciants), one seeks out the twelve grotto-heavens (abodes of immortals in Daoist legend). Abiding at the gate of purity and stillness, one walks the path of Wuwei (non-action), nourishing body and mind with the subtle savor of the methods of the Dao and tasting a joy that is clear and real. Sitting quietly in a thatched hut, one drinks the clear wind and pushes open the gate of mystery; dwelling at ease in an earthen cottage, one views the bright moon and grasps the essentials of Yin-Yang.

Wives, concubines, children, and grandchildren are no more than birds that roost for a moment; gold, silver, pearls, and jade are likewise like drifting clouds that vanish in an instant. One therefore abandons house and property and withdraws into a grotto-abode to cultivate the Dao. Once the bonds of feeling have been severed, they are not joined again, just as water once poured out cannot be gathered back. Parents, wife, and children each live according to arrangements that suit them. From this day forward, they are to one another as strangers on the road, and one oneself will long remain a sojourner in a distant land. Those who leave home to cultivate the Dao should not grow slack at heart; those who for now remain in the household are left each to part and go their own way. This is what I wish. I respectfully present this humble letter, and beg you to take good care.