《晋真人语录》

The Master said: From the opening of heaven and earth down to the present day, people have remained sunk in confusion and loss, as if without end. Now is precisely the time when immortals appear in the world and the great Dao (the Way) is about to flourish. Even though all alike are people of Heaven (those who receive the inborn nature bestowed by Heaven), their aptitudes still differ as the wise and the foolish: the wise tend toward the Dao, while the foolish turn away from the Dao; to tend toward the Dao is to gain the path of life, and to turn away from the Dao is to go toward death.

A clear mind and quiet intention are the road to heaven; a disordered mind and agitated intentions open the gate of hell. I ask all of you: is it better to ascend to heaven, or to enter hell? Although the great Dao is exalted and De (Virtue/Power) is precious, how could these words be meant for those who cling to delusion and dullness? Were it not that Daoism is flourishing in the present age, how could the pure celestial mystery (the secret of still and quiet cultivation of the Dao) be revealed in the world and transmitted to intelligent superior adepts of insight (those with the capacity to comprehend the great Dao)?

The Master said further: To cultivate, a person must first understand the root of nature and life, and only then cultivate the true and nourish life. At the outset of practice, one must preserve the three, embrace the primordial, and guard the One. What is called “preserving the three” means preserving and nourishing the three treasures—Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit); “embracing the primordial” means holding fast the true Qi of primordial yang; “guarding the One” means guarding that inner point of luminous and intelligent Shen.

The root of Shen lies in the heart. The heart belongs to southern bing-ding Fire; within the heart is nature, and nature belongs to yang. The kidneys can generate the true Qi of primordial yang, and this Qi belongs to northern ren-gui Water; Water stands for life, and life belongs to yin. What has been set forth above concerns nature and life, so that people may understand their origin and where they reside. From ancient times on, many have not understood the principle of nature and life; only now is it made clear to the world.

The Master said that learning the Dao (the Way), in broad outline, proceeds through three stages.

In the first, one concentrates in meditative visualization, settles one’s thoughts in the lower Dantian (energy center)—the site of inner cultivation below the navel—does not let the mind scatter, and holds fast to the true Qi (vital energy) of primordial Yang, the original energy spoken of in cultivation. This is the foundation of cultivating long life, and it is also the “immortal furnace” through which one passes from death into life and Yin-Yang is transformed. Within the Dantian one clarifies one’s thoughts and steadies the mind, maintaining a continuous, unbroken state of dim stillness and profound quiet, and carefully guards this for three to five years. The two Qi of Yin and Yang in the elixir furnace then naturally conjoin, are warmed and nurtured into a single whole, and through transformation return to emptiness, so that the numinous embryo—an image, in Neidan (internal alchemy), symbolizing the essential vitality of life—can take form. The luminous Shen (spirit) within the heart likewise quickens of itself, filling one with joy and eager delight, as if singing and dancing spontaneously. Broadly speaking, when Shen obtains Qi it becomes numinous, and when Qi obtains Shen it becomes clear. The Yinfu Jing (scripture/classic) says, “Sagely merit arises therein; spirit-brightness emerges therein.” Qi is the mother of Shen, and Shen is the child of Qi; one should always keep the two guarding each other and never parting. After a long time, Shen naturally grows settled, and the way of immortality can be achieved.

In the second stage, once Shen has been settled and Qi harmonized, one relaxes body and mind, does not cling or forcibly grasp, and cultivates with calm openness. The Qi of the Dao then moves of its own accord. Amid purity and stillness, Shen rises into the numinous palace—the dwelling place of spirit—remains long present before the eyes, and no longer turns back to concern itself with external things.

In the third stage, since Shen is already settled and Qi already harmonized, one should follow what is natural and live out to the full the years allotted by Heaven. With heart and mind open and unclouded, wandering free and at ease, leisurely and at peace when there is nothing to do—this is the accomplishment of the limitless great Dao. If one cultivates purity and stillness through to the end, then when merit and practice are in time fulfilled, one may receive the summons of the Jade Emperor, become a person hindered by nothing, and gain the joy of long life.

The Master said further that, in studying the Dao and practicing cultivation, if spirit-consciousness is still unsteady, the work has not yet been accomplished. Do not calculate how many years are required; one must continue to guard and maintain it. The Perfected Lü said, “Do not say that the great Dao is hard to obtain; it is only that one’s own practice has not yet been carried to its end.”

The Master said: If, in cultivation, one’s conduct is not careful and one’s practice is not diligent, Shen (spirit) can hardly become clear and lucid. If one perseveres in cultivation for a long time without turning against the proper Dao (the Way), mind and spirit do not grow weary, nor do will and intention run unchecked; Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) suffer no loss, and the spirit does not scatter and race outward.

The Master sighed and said: I see people in the world going everywhere to seek teachers and inquire after the Dao, yet unwilling to learn from others with reverence and humility, always claiming that they already know everything and are better than everyone else. When it comes to real cultivation, they are again unwilling to be diligent, careful, and patient; they only talk in empty words and have no actual practice. There are also those who do not cultivate in earnest and, on seeing the poor, have no heart to aid them. Conduct of these kinds damages merit and De (Virtue/Power), leaves hidden virtue deficient, and runs counter to the Dao. People such as these remain very far from attaining immortality and realizing the Dao.

Let me now say briefly whence the fruit of the Dao—the realm attained through cultivation—comes. Heaven protects only those who truly possess merit and virtuous conduct. Those whose virtue and conduct are greatly good can naturally move Heaven and Earth. As the scripture (Jing) says, “August Heaven shows no partiality; it aids only the virtuous,” meaning that Heaven favors no one in particular and helps only those who possess De.

To have genuine practice, one must clarify one’s thoughts and settle one’s will, gather in the spirit, keep the mind from stirring recklessly and one’s actions from being undertaken rashly, and remain clear, bright, and pure—embracing the Origin and guarding the One (holding fast to the root and concentrating mind and spirit), and preserving Shen while consolidating Qi (condensing and nourishing the spirit, and stabilizing primordial vital energy). Only this is genuine practice.

To have genuine virtuous conduct, one must cultivate oneself and accumulate De, relieve the poor and help those who suffer; when seeing others meet with calamity and hardship, always keep a heart to rescue them; and one may also guide good people to enter the Dao and cultivate. In one’s affairs, put others before oneself, and harbor no selfish intent toward the myriad things. Only this is genuine virtuous conduct.

The Master said further: Those who cultivate in order to nourish life must first accumulate virtuous conduct and establish deeds of merit. If there is only merit and no virtuous conduct, the fruit of the Dao is hard to achieve. Only when both merit and conduct are complete may one be called a zhenren (a person who has succeeded in cultivation).

The Master said: When we expound the Dao (the Way) to those within the religious community, we must deeply comprehend the principles of nature and life, thoroughly investigate the mysterious and wondrous great Dao, and resolve to cultivate ourselves and study the way of immortality. The Scripture of Western Ascension (Xisheng Jing) says: “Remove dust and defilement, cease deluded thoughts, make the mind pure and clear, and guard it with single-minded concentration.” When every kind of dust and defilement has been cleared away, the myriad affairs come to an end. This is the essential secret of cultivation in our Daoist tradition, profound beyond compare. In ordinary discussion of principle with others, one must carefully tend the treasures within one’s own person—that is, the precious Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) of body and mind—urge people to follow the Dao of Heaven and accord with heavenly principle, and never revile Heaven and Earth. Even if someone, like Zhang Yuanzi, speaks without restraint and utters wild words, and then turns to talk of the spirits and gods, if he is truly one who has attained the Dao, one should still accommodate him and not pursue his faults.

The Master said: Those who study the Dao must by all means keep themselves pure and clear. They must not take life, nor utter reckless words. As for those who speak of the spirits and gods, if they are people who have attained the Dao, one ought to accommodate them and not pursue their faults.

The Master said: Those who study the Dao must by all means keep themselves pure and clear. They must not take life, drink wine, eat meat, break the precepts, or commit sexual misconduct. In all matters one should be as generous and accommodating as possible, bearing more hardship oneself so that others may benefit. Cast off minds of excessive caution, anger, eccentricity, and greed, and constantly practice endurance of humiliation and frugality. When you see others meet with difficulty, have a heart to relieve their suffering; when you see others poor and in want, supply what they urgently need. In doing good, let others go first and yourself come after. Treat people with humility: be respectful toward those above and kindly toward those below, and dissolve enmity with kindness and De (Virtue/Power). Do not fix your gaze on the faults of others, nor discuss what others have done wrong. In secret accumulate hidden virtue—good deeds one does not seek to have others know—seeking no reputation, and hoping only that Heaven sees clearly. Only then may one be said to be walking upon the Dao.

The Master said: The great Dao has no fixed form or trace; it is so subtle as to be hard to fathom. The sage comprehends the great Dao and carries it out in everyday life. Ordinary people, though they too live amid daily use, do not know that the Dao is within it. To turn away from the great Dao is to lose one’s true nature; to act contrary to the great Dao is to bring upon oneself a place of death. A person situated within the Dao is like a fish situated in water: if the fish loses the water, it dies; if the person loses the Dao, he likewise perishes.

The Master said: The Dao of which the scriptures speak is so subtle as to be hard to fathom. The sage comprehends the great Dao and carries it out in everyday life. Ordinary people, though they too live amid daily use, do not know that the Dao is within it. To turn away from the great Dao is to lose one’s true nature; to act contrary to the great Dao is to bring upon oneself a place of death. A person situated within the Dao is like a fish situated in water: if the fish loses the water, it dies; if the person loses the Dao, he likewise perishes.

The master said: The words and meanings in the classics are often profound and obscure, and hard to grasp all at once. I will now explain them only in everyday language, hoping to help those who are confused come to understanding. If anything still remains unclear, one may later seek instruction from the descendants of future generations. If one can grasp the meaning and cultivate accordingly, one may then transmit it to disciples, enabling people to preserve their nature and life, cultivate until they attain realization, and accumulate merit and virtue that extend to later generations. Healing the illnesses of others is also an important good deed. Receiving this text can enable the nine ancestors (nine generations of ancestors) to be freed of their sinful karma, and enable one’s parents to receive blessed reward. My wish is to aid universally all who encounter illness, hardship, and the perils of life and death. If I deceive people with these words, may I fall forever into Yin Mountain and, through ten thousand kalpas, never escape.

The verse says:

To learn the Dao (the Way), one must be a person as firm as iron, able to entrust body and mind entirely to cultivation. As if biting something clean through, one must in a single stroke cut off ignorance (the folly that veils mind and nature), and no longer chase thoughts of what lies ahead or reckon over what lies behind.

The Secret Formula of Patriarch Chongyang for Cultivating Immortality and Completing Nature

Quanzhen (Complete Perfection), one school of Daoist cultivation, seeks the realm in which the Great Dao (the Way) is clear, pure, and empty, and in which one is free and at ease through Wuwei (non-action). It is an orthodox tradition of cultivating the Dao, and the practice advocated by Wang Chongyang.

Those who cultivate immortality and study the Dao should not wander about idly talking of Chan meditation, nor should they concern themselves only with going everywhere to inquire after the Dao. In the company of others, be careful in speech, and thereby accumulate the merit of practice; when alone, guard against delusive thoughts, and thereby nurture solid, down-to-earth virtue. Do not leave a fault uncorrected because it is small, and do not fail to accumulate a good deed because it is slight.

Firmly restrain scattered thoughts, and do not let the mind rush about in every direction. The “three inversions” and the “six thieves” refer to the contrary disorders and the disturbances of mind that must be resolved in cultivation. When they disperse, the spirit can be at peace; when what agitates mind and spirit is held in check, intention can become steady. Harmonizing water and fire—in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy), a way of speaking about regulating Yin-Yang and body and mind—should proceed step by step, and the regulation of breath should be subtle and even. Practice should be clear, still, and humble, taking a low place; one tempers mind and nature through modesty, gentleness, and softness. Treating others with reverence also benefits cultivation.

One should see through, one aspect after another, this body that is like a walking corpse, and not let mind and spirit be led about by external things. Yet many people show off in speech and strive to outdo others, taking anger for an imposing air and setting the self above all else. In a crowd they will not yield; amid bustle they cannot be quiet. Desire muddles the spirit, and restlessness leaves the mind unsettled. There is yet another sort of person who lives only by begging food, yet claims that this is true cultivation. Such slackness and obstinate foolishness, without self-examination, is not the correct path. Better to temper a stubborn mind and nature while there is still time, cast off the false, cultivate the true, and thereby awaken clearly to one’s original nature.

If one clings to a mind and nature that takes itself for clever, one instead sinks into dullness; if one fixes too intently upon the lamp within the heart, it may suddenly grow dim. Stinginess can hardly bring the Great Dao to completion; how can cruelty comprehend the profound truth? Envying the worthy and able brings fault upon oneself, and clinging to life while fearing death creates karmic offense. Drawing talismans and selling methods in order to deceive others, or using prayers for blessings and the curing of illness to seek money, marks the degenerate within the Daoist community, and also disturbs and harms the people. If one does not awaken to the essentials of cultivation and only wanders about at random, with mind and spirit confused and rushing in wild arrogance, then the offerings received from the faithful on every side are hard to bear and repay.

Only careful cultivation can awaken one to the true mind; the least slackness may cause a fall into hell. When one meets a true teacher, one should strive to seek the essentials of practice. These essentials are not transmitted casually to the foolish; what matters is that each person awaken personally. Cultivation does not require twisting the sinews and shaking the bones or tormenting the body, nor does it rely on the deceptive arts of “gathering and battling” (methods that take sexual union between man and woman as a means of cultivation). One need only understand the method of entry into Wuwei cultivation, so that one’s own Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy)—spirit and the breath of life, as Daoism speaks of them—gradually come into harmony, and the cultivation of Neidan can then proceed of itself. Neidan terms such as “numinous cinnabar” and “divine light” symbolize the elixir and the luminous realm spoken of in cultivation. From this one can realize the root of the Dao and of De (Virtue/Power), the source of clarity, stillness, and ease, enter the wondrous gate of cultivating nature and life, and lay the foundation for transcending the ordinary and accomplishing the immortal Dao.

If everyone can fully awaken to this profound pivot, long life and enduring vision may be sought. These words are not meant to confuse people, nor are they a heterodox art that entices them. I earnestly admonish practitioners of Quanzhen, and I also exhort those in the world who have lost their way: come and take to heart the words of “Haifeng” (Wang Chongyang’s name for himself), and together return to the correct Dao. What follows will set forth the essentials of cultivation, so that people may be freed of doubt. May everyone leave the dust of the mundane and turn toward the true Dao, cut off worldly entanglements and attain awakening to the Dao; and may all living beings at last ascend to the palaces of the immortals.

This passage records Master Ma’s questions and answers on Daoist cultivation, concerned mainly with Shen (spirit), Qi (vital energy), the movements of the mind, and nature and life. The original contains two sections both titled “the fourth question,” and the answer to the eighth question is plainly incomplete and repetitive; what follows is therefore read according to the wording that survives.

The first question asks what is meant by “Where the contemplation of Shen is beyond all fathoming, dragon and tiger are sure to meet.” The answer is that when everything returns to a state of emptiness and stillness, it is just so. “Dragon and tiger” here is a metaphor commonly used in Daoist cultivation, referring to Yin-Yang, or to Shen and Qi and other forces that stand opposite one another yet join together; “meeting” means that they return to harmony.

The second question asks what is meant by “The gate of the mysterious female is called the root of heaven and earth.” The answer takes “mysterious” to mean the father’s Jing (essence) and “female” to mean the mother’s blood. At the beginning each amounts to eight liang, and together they make one jin; the single point of true Qi of primordial Yang within them is the root of life. This explanation accounts for the arising of life through the Jing and Qi of Yin and Yang.

The third question asks what is meant by “returning to the mandate and reverting to the root, and daily stillness.” The answer is that so long as the mind does not follow external things, remains unstained and free of attachment, stays settled, does not let thought scatter, and keeps the spirit clear rather than benighted, this is reverting to the root. If these are not achieved, one cannot revert to the root.

The fourth question asks how one can realize one’s own nature. The answer is that if only one reaches a state without clinging mind or fixated thought, attached to nothing at all, with the inner mind lucid and quiet and with no entanglement either within or without, this is realizing nature. “Realizing nature” here means recognizing one’s original nature.

The fifth question asks what is meant by “responding to things without growing dim.” The answer is that although the ears hear, the eyes see, and the mouth speaks, so long as the mind does not cling to what it encounters, one can meet outer things without losing clarity.

The sixth question asks what “Heaven’s Pass and Earth’s Axis” are, and how they can be made to keep to one another. The answer is that these likewise refer to Shen and Qi. So long as one does not cling and is not stained, and the mind settles, Shen and Qi can keep together; the moment the mind stirs, Qi scatters. When the mind does not move vainly, this is “child and mother keeping to one another.” “Child and mother” is likewise a metaphor of cultivation, referring to inner forces that depend on each other and should be harmonized and maintained.

The seventh question asks what is meant by “A three-foot sword that leaves being and enters non-being; a single pellet of elixir for living long and not dying.” The answer is that “leaving being and entering non-being” is nothing more than the one word “black.” The three-foot sword refers to wisdom; “living long and not dying” refers to the true nature that is numinous and bright; the “single pellet of elixir” refers to life. If only one is pure and still, free of clinging mind, and finds a pure and still place in which to sit and cultivate, there is no other secret.

The eighth question asks what regulating the breath is. The answer is that regulating the breath is not deliberate contrivance. The surviving text breaks off at the words “if one obtains it in the mind,” and what follows repeats part of the answer to the seventh question, so the concrete explanation of breath regulation cannot be fully interpreted from it.

Eighth Question: What counts as regulating the breath?

Regulating the breath is not something one deliberately produces. If the mind can be kept free of concerns, the Qi (vital energy) of the breath will of itself grow even. If one is wholly fixed on the thought, “I must regulate the breath,” that is, on the contrary, attachment. To regulate the breath, one need only refrain from deliberately observing or controlling it, and not fasten attention on the breath at the mouth and nose. What I tell you, fellow practitioners, today holds no other secret: simply keep the mind free of concerns, and find a quiet place in which to sit. It is precisely because my own mind is free of concerns that I have been able to enter the Dao (the Way). Just continue in this way.

Ninth Question: What does Great Master Bodhidharma mean by “lift up emptiness and turn back to contemplate”?

Emptiness refers to original nature. When one turns back to contemplate, original nature is clear and bright, and does not fall into dullness.

Tenth Question: This disciple left the household life only in later years; sinews, bones, Qi, and blood have all grown weak. I ask the master for guidance.

Nourish and replenish.

Asked further: What counts as “replenishing”?

In every matter, simply keep the mind free of concerns; set down every kind of clinging, and do not let the “six gates”—eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind—race outward. Hold to a single clear and wakeful ruling mind; ordinarily speak little, and do not cling to external things. Through all twelve double-hours of the day remain clear and awake, without sinking into dullness; sleep less, and let the mind’s thoughts drop away at once. This is nourishing and replenishing.

Eleventh Question: What are lead and mercury?

Lead is the father’s Jing (essence); mercury is the mother’s blood. They are also used to indicate nature and life, or are called the dragon and the tiger.

Twelfth Question: In quiet sitting, stray thoughts arise without cease, and at times one is very dull and fond of sleep. How can one give rise to fewer stray thoughts and lessen drowsiness?

Simply harbor no stray thoughts or clinging within, and let the Shen (spirit) be subtle and lucid. When the mind truly has no clinging, stray thoughts will naturally not arise, nor will dullness.

Thirteenth Question: What is the realm that Heaven and Earth cannot fathom, and that ghosts and spirits likewise do not know?

What, then, remains to be said?

Fourteenth Question: What is meant by the twelve double-hours seeming as if they were only a single moment?

It is not only that all twelve double-hours are like one and the same moment; even after tens of thousands of days have passed, it must remain ever thus. If there is the slightest inconsistency, it has already been cut off and extinguished.

Eighteen Questions and Answers on the Miscellaneous Treasures of the Mysterious Gate: Quanzhen (Complete Perfection)

"Quanzhen" (Complete Perfection) means being in accord with the Dao (the Way) of the Heavenly Mind. Shen (spirit) does not race outward, Qi (vital energy) does not scatter, and Jing (essence) does not leak away. When all three are complete, the Five Phases (the five basic elements that make up all things) converge, and the Four Images (the four states of Yin-Yang transformation) are settled and harmonious. This is called Quanzhen.

Someone asks: can one keep Shen from racing outward and Qi from scattering for a single moment? The answer: it is not only that all twelve double-hours must be kept just as that one moment is kept. Even if it lasts for thousands upon thousands of days, the failure to maintain it for even a single instant is already a severance.

A poem says: Constantly follow the teachings of the patriarchs, and in daily life hold to the heart of Laojun (Lord Lao). Refine your nature into true suchness. Is this not Quanzhen?

Bowing in Farewell (Jishou Zhenzhong)

There is no outward appearance and no inner wrapping; inside and out are true emptiness. Return to Wuji (the Limitless) and the Great Beginning, penetrate the divine light, and receive protection. This is the family tradition of Taishang (the Most High): long life without decay. With nothing thought of and nothing retained, transformation pervades the whole Dharma realm. Within the grove of the Seven Treasures, scene upon scene lightly overlaps, unshaken and unmoving. This is called bowing in farewell.

The Elder (Xiansheng)

Before the Dao and its methods had appeared, the self already existed. Its light shines brilliantly, yet it shows no form. From ancient times to the present it has never changed. Is this not what is meant by "the Elder"?

The Daoist Youth (Daotong)

The Daoist youth was originally the same as the Great Dao, but longing for the mortal world, he fell into the cage of the ordinary. Now his mind is already beyond the azure heavens, no method can bind him, and he is able to commune with the Dao.

The Disheveled Hair (Pengtou)

Disheveled hair was the family tradition of Taishang in ancient times. When one method is mastered, all methods are mastered. Put down even the slightest stain of dust, and your nature will naturally accord with the Way of Heaven.

The Hair Bun (Faji)

The hair bun is a style left by Zhongli (Zhongli Quan, venerated in Daoism), like setting the sun atop Mount Kunlun. The line in the original, "méi rén gǎo xǐ Chángshān gǔ jiāfēng," is unclear in meaning, and for now it is rendered literally as: no one tidies or washes it, yet it keeps the ancient family tradition of Mount Chang. When one method is mastered, all methods are mastered. Put down even the slightest stain of dust, and your nature will naturally accord with the Way of Heaven.

The Hair Bun (Faji)

The hair bun is a style left by Zhongli, like setting the sun atop Mount Kunlun. With no one coming to tidy or wash it, one leaves Mount Chang; the white ox has since ancient times grazed freely on the plains.

The Cap (Guan)

A pair of eyes like stars watches over what lies before and behind, gathering in the myriad methods and storing them again within. Inside and out are transparent and bright, leaving no visible trace. The light alone appears, and the road ahead is broad and level.

The Robe (Pao)

Unrestrained and at ease, one returns to the original beginning and takes no account of how long the spring days are. The robe is wide and loose, as if wrapping heaven and earth. It separates one from the red dust, so the body is untouched by worldly stains, and no change of cold or heat can disturb it.

The Four Towers (Silou)

Spring, summer, autumn, and winter correspond in turn to four kinds of padded robes, and the ten thousand things of the world are all enfolded within them. Who understands the principle in this? Wine, lust, wealth, and anger are all worldly entanglements. They must be cut off completely before one can keep far from right and wrong.

The Bamboo Hat

The bamboo hat hangs high on the summit of Mount Kunlun, sending out a circle of light that shines without limit. However wind, rain, frost, and snow may assail it, it stands like a precious pagoda, for the moment sheltering the crown of the head and letting no wind or rain leak through.

The Cord

How many times has the restless mind run back and forth? It must be tied down firmly, like a leaping monkey or an unbroken horse. Only by letting go of the thousand threads of attachment can one hope to escape the cycle of birth and death.

The Cover

The bamboo hat hangs high on the summit of Mount Kunlun, sending out a circle of light that shines without limit. However wind, rain, frost, and snow may assail it, it stands like a precious pagoda, for the moment sheltering the crown of the head and letting no wind or rain leak through.

The Cord

How many times has the restless mind run back and forth? It must be tied down firmly, like a leaping monkey or an unbroken horse. Only by letting go of the thousand threads of attachment can one hope to escape the cycle of birth and death.

The Cover Bag

It is a piece of cloth no more than three feet across in either direction, yet who can see the creative transformation contained within? Within it one can transcend the Dharma realm (the realms spoken of in Buddhist and Daoist texts), as if wrapping up the whole of the Great Void (the vast, boundless emptiness).

The Staff

Held upright, it seems to hold up the sky and stand upon the earth. Carried crosswise on the shoulder, it seems to bear the sun, the moon, the mountains, and the rivers. It can turn Heaven and Earth, as if reversing their very marrow, and set in motion the myriad phenomena.

The Bowl

In one bowl is the food given by a thousand households, and alone I wander ten thousand miles of road. Seeking the Dao (the Way) that leads beyond birth and death, I beg for food from door to door, passing one year after another.

The Shoes

Year after year they have followed me, accompanying every step. I have crossed the mountains and rivers of days gone by without counting the years. From now on I will tread through mud and water no more, but let my feet rise through the air and fly across the azure sky.

Coming and Going

I came from the Great Dao, and I will go back by the road I originally came. Between coming and going I am untouched by the dust of the world, and I should abide in a place of purity and stillness.

Leaving Home to Practice

From the moment of leaving the world, I have left home. My life follows what is natural, without reckless action or reckless striving. If someone asks where I came from and where I am going, I say: I came from the Great Dao, and I go back by the road I originally came. Between coming and going I am untouched by the dust of the world, and I should abide in a place of purity and stillness.

Leaving Home to Practice

From the moment of leaving the world, I have left home. My life follows what is natural, without reckless action or reckless striving. If someone asks me for the secret of my practice, I say: when the clouds have scattered, the moon in the blue sky is naturally bright.

Daily Life

In daily life I cultivate my nature and forget emotional attachment. Begging from door to door is my livelihood. I come and go freely, with no hindrance or worry, and take the clear breeze and bright moon as my neighbors.

The Verse Says (a eulogy in Daoist words):

The state of the immortals was, from the beginning, a realm that people of the world also pursued—yet who is willing to lay down completely every attachment in the heart? If one can awaken to one’s own true nature and life (xingming, one’s true innate nature and vitality), one may roam freely together with the clear wind and the bright moon.

Two Lyrics to “Shuilongyin”

I had all along left the household and withdrawn from the dusty world, and from then on I no longer craved the fame and profit of human life. My hair was tangled, my face covered with grime; all day I sat alone in stillness, single-mindedly devoted to cultivation. I lived in the cave chambers of old temples or beside the shrine niches, letting the evening sun sink in the west. From emptiness I came to recognize what truly is, and I understood “know the white and keep to the black” (to comprehend the bright Dao, the Way, yet hold fast to darkness and humility), silently regulating the breath in a soft, unbroken continuity. Nothing remained to cling to in the heart; I went about with only a cloth bag and a staff. I wore tattered straw sandals, legs and feet bare, a sheepskin thrown over me for covering. When hungry I begged from door to door; once full, I sang “li-lian-luo-li.” Let others laugh at me and call me a dull-witted idler—who among them can truly understand me?

The heart that cultivates the Dao must be as firm as iron; it depends entirely on one’s own strenuous, vigorous effort. One must in a single stroke break free of the bonds of profit, cut the ties of reputation, and cast aside love and attachment. The ten thousand affairs no longer hang upon the mind, nor is one stirred by external things; one lives in a little hut put together of thatch. Let others laugh at me and call me a dull-witted idler—who among them can truly understand me?

The heart that cultivates the Dao must be as firm as iron; it depends entirely on one’s own strenuous, vigorous effort. One must in a single stroke break free of the bonds of profit, cut the ties of reputation, and cast aside love and attachment. The ten thousand affairs no longer hang upon the mind, nor is one stirred by external things; one lives in a little hut put together of thatch. Even dwelling amid the clamor of the marketplace, one peacefully keeps to the Dao, and by this practice passes the years. Be a poor cultivator of the Dao: coarse tea and plain fare are enough to eat, and neither cold nor heat is taken to heart. Hair tangled, face covered with grime, one sits alone in stillness all day, devoted wholly to cultivation. Should one meet an enlightened master who transmits the secret teaching, people of the world will say, “The madman has come again.” Within this there are realms profound and subtle; if one truly tried to sing them out, how could they ever be made clear?

Hymn

Alone I climb the high mountain and gaze far toward the eight directions; the dark clouds disperse, leaving only a single solitary moon. Between the vast heavens and the earth, people are beyond number—yet who, in the end, can truly be counted a real man?

“Jiehong”

Deep within the Dongtian—the grotto abodes where, as Daoism teaches, the immortals dwell—the Dao (the Way) is not far off; it is only that people find it hard to grasp even when it lies within arm’s reach. To set the inner vision (the changes of body and mind contemplated in cultivation) rising and falling in its course, one must rely on the guidance of an experienced teacher and on the work of practice.

One waits expressly for the first arising of the single Yang at dawn (a term of Neidan [internal alchemy], meaning the first stirring of Yang Qi [vital energy]), and from this the mysterious path is opened. These secrets all lie hidden in the depths of the emerald waves, left for the practitioner to seek out. When a rumbling like thunder within the earth is given forth and shakes the mountain crest, as though rain were falling, the Yellow Sprout (a Neidan term for nascent true Qi, or for the first fruit of cultivation) is gradually nourished and has only just broken the soil. The Infant (a Neidan term for the inner elixir condensed in the course of cultivation) gathers the Yellow Sprout, places it in a basket, and carries it away; it is then set amid the True Rosy Mists and the Six Yangs (a Neidan term for the state in which Yang Qi is full and abundant) and cooked and refined within the cauldron.

One circulates the mechanism of Qi so that it passes through east, west, south, and north; one arrays the Bagua (Eight Trigrams, eight symbols of the transformations of Heaven and Earth), and one must also grasp the foundation of the Nine Palaces (a pattern symbolizing directions and the movement of the Qi mechanism). Distinguishing left and right by the number of the Ten Stems (the Heavenly Stems), one brings forth the Dragon and the Tiger (a Neidan term commonly used as a figure for the two Qi of Yin-Yang). The Dark Warrior follows behind, the Vermilion Bird goes before, and auspicious clouds spread wide; above the Winding River the host of spirits gathers, “the husband and…” (so the original text reads; the sense of the sentence is unclear). In the end all returns to the Gui Ancestral Source (a Neidan term for the root to which the mechanism of Yin-Yang Qi returns).

Distinguishing left and right by the number of the Ten Stems, one brings forth the Dragon and the Tiger. The Dark Warrior follows behind, the Vermilion Bird goes before, and auspicious clouds spread wide; above the Winding River the host of spirits gathers, and “the husband and…” returns to the Gui Mother (a Neidan term for the place to which Yin Qi returns). One mounts the Red Dragon and goes back to the grotto dwelling. One must also seek out Lord Ding and ask clearly where one’s support is to be found; when Yin-Yang unite and pass through the number three thousand, Heaven and Earth, the seas and the mountains, may together enjoy lasting firmness.

The poem says:

The waters of the Yellow River turn in their flow; within the household of the Lü family there is a pot that holds Heaven and Earth, attended by mist and rosy clouds, as though it had passed through ages long gone. The unfeeling white deer harmonizes the vermilion phoenix; there is also a tortoise entwined with a red snake. In the sixth month white snow flies down upon the mountain peaks, yet through the three months of winter the Yellow Sprout grows beneath the water. If these principles could be grasped by everyone, the immortals on dry land would be as numerous as a tangle of hemp.

Green-headed Duck (the name of a ci lyric tune)

In conversation one is often reminded to awaken to the truth that human life is like the dream of the southern bough or the dream of yellow millet. See through the splendors of the world, take up residence in a thatched hut among the clouds, and wear plain homespun cloth; recognize the lineage of one’s own school, turn the light back upon oneself, and look inward. With the sword of wisdom, cleave the net woven of passion and attachment; holding a splendid staff crosswise, shatter the bonds of the dusty world. Should affinity bring a meeting, one may wander Mount Emei at will; drawing in one’s sharp edge, hasten on to Mount Hua. Dwelling in seclusion among woods and springs, it is as if the stars of the Southern Dipper were gathered into the Northern Dipper and sun and moon were hidden in the sleeve. Though the bloom of youth has long remained unchanged, even should heaven collapse and earth split, true nature abides just as before.

A wave of the sleeves makes heaven and earth seem still too narrow; merely stretch out a hand, and one can take the measure of heaven and earth. In a mellow drunkenness, the four seas seem to fit inside a cloth pouch; smiling with delight, the belly is as if it had drunk three cups of fine wine. Time and again one attends the banquets of the Jasper Pool and the Dragon Flower Assembly—an immortal gathering in Buddhist and Daoist legend—sitting at the same table with the immortals and falling drunk beside cups lit by rosy clouds. Were the Jade Emperor’s imperial feast to lack me, it would not be complete. At the gathering of the Double Ninth, seven golden lotuses bloom together and send forth divine light.

The verse says:

The realm of the mind is pure and bright, like a full luminous moon; its light shines clearly, like a solitary round pearl polished smooth by water. Deep emerald pools reflect one’s form, and a far-reaching grace belongs to an immortal realm beyond the dust of the world. With lively ease one picks up what is originally without form or being, and with supple completeness one sets everything down. In a moment it is as if clear light were strewn across a crystal plate, and before the eyes nothing remains but a stretch of pure blue sky.

The verse says:

On Mount Yujing, the Jade Capital Mountain, there is a pool unfathomably deep in every direction. If one can recognize the person who steers the boat and shows the way, one will naturally board that boat and sail into the celestial palace.