《析疑指迷论》

Master Shen Feng Xiaoyao brought out two essays of high distinction for me to read, entitled Xiyi Zhimi (Resolving Doubts and Guiding the Lost). He spoke his views freely and held nothing back, and in writing he set forth principles of great depth. From these one can see that the cultivation of his entire life is embodied in the two essays. I was fortunate enough to read them, and at once my mind grew clear and bright, as though I stood alone upon the Great Dao (the Way) and had forgotten even that my four limbs existed. Writings such as these may serve to guard the Mysterious Gate (Xuanmen, that is, Daoism), and may also serve as ladder and boat to guide students who come after. Colophon respectfully composed by Liu Daozhen, Chongxuanzi of Runan, on the first day of mid-spring in the wuxu year of the Dade era.

One cluster of fire is passed on to the next: though the kindling differs, the flame is the same. The sages of today inherit the sages of antiquity: though the ages differ, the Dao remains ever one. Thus, since Ma, Tan, Liu, and Qiu, Perfected Persons (Zhenren) who have expounded the mysterious ethos of the teaching and broadly bestowed subtle instruction have appeared one after another. Master Niu, the Lianshi known as Shen Feng Xiaoyao, has of late newly brought forth something extraordinary…

The fire of those who came before is passed on to those who come after: though the firewood differs, the flame is the same. Sages of the present succeed the sages of antiquity; though the ages differ, the Dao (the Way) remains ever one. Thus, since Ma, Tan, Liu, and Qiu (early patriarchs of Quanzhen [Complete Perfection]), Perfected Persons who expound the profound ethos of the Dao and carry out teaching and transformation have appeared one after another.

Master Niu, the Carefree Gentleman of Shenfeng and a Lianshi (a Daoist honorific for one who has attained accomplishment in cultivation), has recently completed two volumes of Xiyi Zhimi (Resolving Doubts and Guiding the Lost). I asked him to write a preface. After reading through the whole work, I unconsciously forgot both myself and the secular world, as if riding the clear wind and roaming the heavens. It leads the reader step by step and in clear order, so that doubts in the mind disperse at once and understanding suddenly opens. It guides one onward in cultivation: a single apt word is spoken, and the breast grows spacious, the will firms and advances, and hesitation ceases.

The language of the whole book is concise, its principles subtle, its instruction deeply felt, and its intention earnest. Truly it may be called the transmission of the former fire and the succession of the sagely Dao. His disciples, fearing that the subtle words within it would be lost, collected and compiled them so as to help later students of the Dao. To spread the Daoist methods of their teacher’s lineage in this way shows a truly profound care.

Composed by Wang Daoheng, the Daoist Jing’an Chongmo, three days before the Mid-Autumn Festival in the third year of Dade (1299).

Shenfeng Xiaoyaozi was living at leisure in a secluded room, sitting alone beside the window and resting against a small table in quiet reflection, having set aside all distracting thoughts. Just then Wuzhenzi Li Zhiheng rose from his seat, stood with reverence, and, holding a paper slip, bowed in greeting. He addressed Xiaoyaozi, saying, “May I ask about the wondrous principles of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection)—the state, in Daoist cultivation, of returning to original authenticity so that body and mind become wholly pure—the subtle depths of the ultimate Dao (the Way), and the meaning of nature and life, that is, a person’s mind-nature and life, together with the order of cultivation? Please, Teacher, explain these things and dispel my doubts.”

Xiaoyaozi replied, “The ultimate Dao is subtle, profound, and mysterious. It has no form and no name, and is hard to explain or put into words. It is not something gained by choosing or rejecting. Thus the mind cannot think it clear, nor can the mouth speak it; one can only come to realize it for oneself from deep within.”

The questioner pressed on, and his resolve in seeking the Dao grew ever more sincere. Xiaoyaozi therefore felt obliged to answer his request and wrote this discourse, entitling it Xiyi Zhimi (Resolving Doubts and Guiding the Bewildered), in the hope of helping beginners come gradually to understanding. The piece is dated the Upper Prime day of early spring in the second year of Yuanzhen (the fifteenth day of the first lunar month of the second year of Yuanzhen).

Resolving Doubts

Someone asked, “What is…?” The reply was: “It is the state before a single thought has yet arisen. At that time there is no thought at all, and it is the same as the Great Void, the vast and formless emptiness: look at it, and no color is seen; listen to it, and no sound is heard; try to touch it, and no form can be grasped. Above, it has no covering; below, it has no bottom; at the sides, it has no doorway; and in the center, it has no fixed form. It is so vast that it has no outside…”

The original breaks off at the character qi; the context around he er is likewise incomplete, so the full wording of the question cannot be determined from it.

So small that it has no interior that can be divided any further, it is deep, remote, and obscure, and cannot be measured. Dim and elusive, if one looks at it from the side of its fundamental substance, it seems as though nothing at all is there; yet as its function becomes manifest, it is not wholly nonexistent. It holds within itself a vastness without bounds, and it also harbors what is subtle and all-embracing. In stillness it does not move; the moment there is a response, it penetrates through. The fundamental substance that contains the myriad phenomena remains untainted by even the slightest trace.

I do not know what name to give it, so for the time being I call it Quanzhen (Complete Perfection)—the complete and true state of the Dao (the Way). Buddhism calls it Yuanjue (Perfect Enlightenment) or Yuankong (Perfect Emptiness); the Taishang (the Daoist honorific for the Dao) calls it Huncheng (Undifferentiated and Complete) or Yuantong (Perfect Penetration). Thus the Nanhua Jing (the Nanhua Scripture, another name for the Zhuangzi) says: “Never has the state of any thing already reached the ultimate, such that nothing further can be added.” These words, I suppose, refer to this very realm.

Someone asked, “What is mind and nature?” The reply was: The principle of mind and nature is like water and the foam that rises on its surface. Water is clear to begin with; once it is stirred, foam and waves arise, it grows turbid, and it can no longer reflect the principles of things. When the waves subside, the water clears and the foam disappears. Seen in this light, water is the foam, and the foam is water. In other words, mind is the function of nature, and nature is the fundamental substance of mind. When one no longer clings to either substance or function, that is the realm of Quanzhen.

Someone asked, “What are nature and life?” The reply was: The principle of nature and life is another way of speaking of Yin-Yang and of Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy). The two characters “Shen” and “Qi” may be given endlessly many names; in the end, all of them refer to Quanzhen.

Someone asked, “What are nature and life?”

The reply was: “The principle of nature and life is simply different names for Yin-Yang, and for Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy). From the two words ‘Shen’ and ‘Qi’ countless formulations can be derived; here I will only sketch the general idea.

Some use movement and stillness, dragon and tiger, water and fire, Kan and Li (two of the Bagua, the Eight Trigrams, often used to symbolize water and fire), east and west, south and north, spring and autumn, warmth and coolness, winter and summer, cold and heat, Pi and Tai (hardship and smooth fortune), impasse and free passage, rising and falling, going and coming, being and non-being, emptiness and fullness, above and below, floating and sinking, high and low, deep and shallow, Metal and Wood, the firm and the soft, heaven and earth, sun and moon, Zhen and Dui (two of the Bagua), darkness and brightness, husband and wife, the infant and the maiden (the baby and the young girl, both symbols in Neidan, internal alchemy), as well as such names as the Golden Elder and the Yellow Dame, Crimson Snow and Mysterious Frost, Purple Sprouts and Red Powder, and True Lead and True Mercury, to refer to Shen and Qi. Other names and ways of speaking are even more beyond counting. These names and appearances are only different designations; one should not cling to the literal wording. In sum, all of them speak of Shen and Qi.

If one wishes to preserve the spirit and nurture original Qi, one should clarify the relation of substance and function and of host and guest, set aside every entanglement, and keep the mind unstained by worldly thoughts, so that both within and without are pure and still. If one maintains single-minded sincerity and reverence for a long time, Qi will naturally gather and Shen will settle; nature and life will each find a secure resting place. In the end nature and life are both complete, Shen and Qi unite as one, and one accords with the Dao (the Way); the work of cultivation is then fulfilled.”

Someone asked, “What is meant by substance, function, guest, and host?”

The reply was: “If one wishes to cultivate the true—to cultivate body and mind and realize the Great Dao (the Way)—one must understand substance, function, guest, and host. If one does not understand substance and function, one cannot dispel passion and desire; if one does not understand the relation between Yin-Yang and guest and host, one cannot accord with the supreme Shen (spirit) within emptiness and nothingness. What, then, are substance and function? Empty stillness is substance; illuminating awareness is function. When both substance and function are present, one can penetrate and accord with the original source of the Great Dao.”

It was asked again, “What is meant by guest and host?”

The reply was: “The preceding thought is the guest; the following thought is the host. When a thought arises, do not cling to it; a thought originally has no fixed root or thread. Thus the Perfected Dongming said, ‘The moment a thought arises, once it is noticed, let it cease.’ This saying fully sets forth substance, function, guest, and host. Why is it said to set them forth completely? The arising of a thought is the guest; that which notices the thought is the host. Noticing is function; letting the thought cease is substance. From this one can see that substance is function, and function is likewise substance. When substance and function dissolve at the same time, that is true nature in its wholeness.”

Someone asked, “People often speak of ‘transmitting the foundation of life.’ What does this mean?”

The reply was: “Life is Qi (vital energy); the foundation is the root. The root of the one Qi is the Dao. The Dao has neither form nor name, and cannot be obtained by taking or discarding. Since it can neither be taken nor set aside, what is there that could be transmitted? Thus Guanyinzi said, ‘In the end the sage cannot take the Dao out and show it to others.’ Liezi also said, ‘Not knowing why it is so, and yet it is so of itself—this is called life.’ Is this not precisely the meaning?”

Someone asked, “What does the Patriarch mean by ‘the place the Five Phases (Wuxing—Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water) do not reach, before the one Qi (vital energy) has yet arisen’?”

The reply was: “Here, the ‘Five Phases’ refers to our five sense faculties—eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and body—while the ‘one Qi’ refers to a single thought arising in the mind. When the activity of the five senses has not yet occurred and no thought has yet begun to sprout, it is just as was said earlier of ‘there has not yet begun to be things’ (the state before the myriad things have appeared). Since there is nothing that can be called a ‘thing,’ we can only provisionally call this state the Dao (the Way).”

Someone else asked, “If the state before the myriad things have appeared is called the Dao, then after the myriad things have appeared, is the Dao still present within them?”

The reply was: “The myriad things are born from the Dao, and so the myriad things are the Dao. This is like the mind being born of original nature, and therefore the mind being original nature itself. It is also like bubbles arising in water: the bubbles are in fact nothing other than water.”

Thus the Dongming says: “The secret words transmitted by the teacher awaken the mind and open it to insight; the lineage style that stands beyond things is also cultivated amid the myriad things.” Guan Yinzi said, “The principles of heaven and earth are all contained within a single thing.” He also said, “From within a single thing, one can comprehend the Dao of Heaven, fully know what is spiritual and wondrous, settle one’s life, and arrive at the mysterious realm. If the myriad things are like this, how could human beings not be so?”

The Taishang Daode Jing says: “There is something undifferentiated and complete that already existed before heaven and earth. Silent and vast, it stands alone and does not change; it moves in cycles and is never exhausted, and it can serve as the source of all things under heaven. I do not know its name, so I provisionally call it the ‘Dao.’” This is precisely what is meant.

Someone asked: “The Perfected Qinghe said, ‘The more one tries to stop one’s thoughts and subdue the mind within, the more stray thoughts multiply; yet if one neither subdues them nor brings them to rest, one simply rises and falls with the thoughts, drifting along like one chasing the waves.’ How are these words to be understood?”

The reply: Those who are just beginning to study the Dao (the Way) must first come to realize their true mind. This true mind is originally empty of all things, like the Great Void, and its nature is pure and clear. Within that purity a thought may suddenly arise; if one at once turns the light back upon oneself and returns to the root and the origin, the mind will again become limpid and pure. Thus the scriptures (Jing) say: “Clarify the mind within, and the spirit naturally grows lucid; the six desires naturally do not arise, and the three poisons likewise disperse.” When the three poisons disperse, one accords with the Dao.

If one does not understand this principle, then the moment a thought arises one produces yet another thought in order to suppress it; and when it cannot be pressed down, one stirs the mind once more to drive it away. Suppressing and expelling thoughts again and again in this fashion only leaves one more entangled in them. If, on the other hand, one imposes no restraint at all and lets desires run their course, one grows muddled and confused, and drifts even farther from the Dao. One must therefore remain aware at every moment, stay clear and wakeful, and watch over the movements of the mind. Should that awareness be lost, one may stray from one’s original nature and fall into another bodily form, as in being reborn into a new life. Only after the karmic recompense of that lifetime has run its course can one return; by then one is already worn and exhausted, and still has not awakened. Is this not a cause for lament?

Someone asked, “How can one thoroughly penetrate all dharmas?”

The reply was: “A person who cultivates must first understand their own mind and realize their fundamental nature, and clear away all doubt, before they can nurture the Great Dao (the Way). The mind is the source of all dharmas, and nature is the essential purport of the many scriptures (jing). When a thought arises, the various dharmas arise along with it; when thought comes to rest, the various dharmas come to rest along with it. If one can reach the point at which not a single thought arises, one can leave birth and death behind. It is precisely where not a single thought arises that one sees one’s original face—that is, the mind and nature that are originally true.

Nurtured over a long time, so that mind and nature become perfectly integrated and luminous, vast and freely penetrating, there is then no principle one cannot comprehend and no scripture one cannot understand. This is called the ‘perfectly penetrating Dharma-eye’—seeing into all dharmas by means of penetrating wisdom. All that the entire Daozang sets forth is these same principles. What the sages and worthies of past and present have realized is nothing more than this; what the realized teachers of former times—the perfected immortals and lineage masters who attained the Dao—taught is nothing more than this; and what the Five Patriarchs and the Seven Perfected—the patriarchs and realized beings in the Daoist line of transmission—awakened to is nothing more than this.

Fellow practitioners are urged: if you can grasp this one level, do not doubt any further. This is the key to learning the Dao, and the secret of cultivating the true—the practice of refining oneself until one becomes a realized being.”

Someone asked: In former times, Great Master Shenguang, in the presence of Patriarch Bodhidharma, sought instruction on the method of settling the mind. Patriarch Bodhidharma said, “Bring me your mind, and I will settle it for you.” Shenguang was silent for a long while, then said, “This disciple has searched for the mind, yet can find nothing at all.” Patriarch Bodhidharma said, “I have already settled your mind for you.” On hearing these words, Shenguang was at once greatly awakened, and the doubts in his heart were completely dispelled. What is the principle in this?

The reply was: The nature of the mind is not a fixed entity; only when it encounters external things does it manifest all manner of feelings and thoughts. Thus the Perfected Ziyang said, “To see things is to see the mind; when there are no things, the mind does not appear. Amid the free flow or blockage of heaven, earth, and the four directions, the true mind is nowhere absent.” The true mind has no fixed form. It is like a precious mirror whose surface holds a radiance: when an object comes before the mirror, the object is reflected; when a person comes before the mirror, the person is reflected. When neither persons nor things any longer appear, the mirror’s surface is perfectly bright and thoroughly clear. Spoken of in this way, to search for the mind and obtain nothing is precisely because the mind is not something that can be grasped.

The Guanyinzi says, “The ordinary person’s weighing and choosing comes down to evil; the worthy person’s weighing and choosing comes down to good; the sage’s weighing and choosing comes down to obtaining nothing.” What is said here is likewise searching for the mind and obtaining nothing. Only by not clinging to any attainment does one accord with the Dao (the Way). Once one has already awakened to the Dao, how could one’s doubts fail to be dispelled?

Someone asked: The Perfected Changchun said, “Without the blessed portion of the immortals, it is hard to understand the workings of creative transformation.” What is meant by the workings of creative transformation?

The reply was: What is called creative transformation is another name for the changes of Yin-Yang and for blockage and free passage. The crux of Yin-Yang change is simply another way of speaking of the Dao. What is called Pi is blockage; what is called Tai is free passage. Thus the Book of Transformation says, “The sages of antiquity investigated the first threads of passage and blockage, and thereby obtained the root of creative transformation.” The root of creative transformation is precisely the mysterious principle. Since the principle is so, without the blessed portion for cultivating the Way of the immortals, how could one understand the Dao?

Someone asked: “Although the Dao (the Way) has no fixed method, learning must proceed by stages. What does it mean to proceed by stages?”

The answer was: “Those who are just beginning to learn the Dao must first set aside worldly entanglements, cast off craving, attachment, and desire, seek widely for enlightened teachers, and study deeply the mysterious principles. Once these principles are understood, one must still set right one’s aspirations and moral integrity. One should then cultivate the three—precepts, concentration, and wisdom—which form the crucial sequence of gradual advancement.

“The precepts are like a ladder for ascending to heaven and a boat for crossing the sea of suffering; they are also the foundation for setting out on the path of cultivating the Dao, and the means of cultivating immortality step by step. If one does not observe the precepts, one cannot enter the state of concentration; if one cannot enter concentration, wisdom has no way to manifest. Thus the Zhuangzi says: ‘From an empty and still state of mind, clarity and purity arise, and good fortune comes to rest in calm stability.’ It also says: ‘When the mind is vast and settled, the innate spiritual light appears.’ Once this heavenly light appears, one shares the same source as the Dao. Sharing the same source as the Dao, ghosts and spirits can hardly fathom one, and Yin-Yang can no longer mold or transform one. Such a person is a perfected person (one whose cultivation has reached the very highest realm)! A perfected person indeed!”

Someone asked: “One speaks of leaving home to cultivate the Dao, and one also says that ‘the Dao originally requires no cultivation.’ What do these two statements mean?”

The answer was: “The Dao originally requires no cultivation, but the human mind needs to be tempered. The Dao within a person is like gold hidden in ore. Although there is gold in the ore, if it is not smelted, how can it become pure gold?”

Someone asked again: “One speaks of leaving home to cultivate the Dao, and one also says that ‘the Dao originally requires no cultivation.’ What do these two statements mean?”

The answer was: “The Dao originally requires no cultivation, but the human mind needs to be tempered. The Dao within a person is like gold hidden in ore. If the gold in the ore is not smelted, it remains mixed with the stone; only when the impurities are refined away can it be called gold. Once it has become gold, it is no longer ore. The Dao is originally present in a person; if one does not cultivate it, one remains an ordinary mortal. Only when the mundane mind has been entirely refined away can one be called an immortal. Once one has become an immortal, one is no longer an ordinary mortal. If one has already become gold, there is no need to temper it further; and once the Way of immortality has been attained, what need is there to cultivate any longer?”

Someone asked, “The Perfected Danyang said, ‘Quickly topple the mountain of self and other, and hasten to break open the dragon-tiger cave.’ What does this mean?”

The reply was: “When the mountain of self and other falls, the dragon-tiger cave opens as well. Why is this so? ‘Self’ refers to one’s own mind, and ‘other’ refers to external circumstances. When one no longer clings to either mind or circumstances, the mountain of self and other falls. ‘Dragon and tiger’ refer to the arising, ceasing, and restless shifting of thoughts as the mind stirs; all these thoughts arise from the nature of true emptiness. The nature of true emptiness is vast and still, and so it is called a ‘cave,’ and also the ‘empty mansion.’ The Most High calls it ‘the gateway of all wonders,’ and also ‘the gateway of the mysterious female’; the Zhuangzi calls it ‘the heavenly treasury.’ This is the meaning of the dragon-tiger cave. What is called ‘breaking it open’ means that nothing covers or obstructs it; once the obstacles are removed, the Dao (the Way) is stored there.”

Someone asked, “What is the Golden Elixir (jindan)?”

The reply was: “‘Gold’ is a metaphor for what, after refinement, is firm, keen, bright and clear, and pure; ‘elixir’ is a metaphor for what is full and luminous, able to respond to change, turning back and forth without end, its beginning and end hard to fathom. The Golden Elixir means that if a person can bring it to completion and ingest it, that person can pass beyond the suffering of birth and death.”

Someone asked, “When one first begins cultivation, one must eat less, cut off passion and desire, and overcome drowsiness; yet others say that when hungry one should eat and when tired one should sleep. How are these two teachings to be understood?”

The reply was: “These refer to two different situations. When beginners first set out to cultivate the Dao, old habits are still hard to forget and the mind is easily stirred, so eating, sleeping, and desire generally cannot be indulged at will. The ancients said, ‘In learning the Dao, do not expect everything to go as you wish; if everything goes as you wish, the Dao is hard to learn.’ They also said, ‘A full stomach and warmth readily breed desire; only in hunger and cold can one hold to what is originally so.’ When the worldly mind comes to rest and the eye of the Dao suddenly opens, one reaches the state of Wuwei (non-action) in which nothing is left undone. At that point, how could ordinary eating and sleeping hinder cultivation of the Dao?”

Lifeng Zhenren (the Perfected) said: “To cling to ‘having a body’ (holding that the myriad things possess fixed, substantial entities) is an illness, and to cling to ‘having no body’ (holding that everything is empty) is also an illness. If one adopts neither ‘being’ nor ‘non-being,’ where is one to settle body and mind and establish nature and life? Is it while eating and sleeping?”

Someone asked about the principle behind these words. The reply was: “If one holds that there is a body, one clings to external forms and appearances; if one holds that there is no body, one sinks into the dead stillness of stubborn emptiness. Taking neither being nor non-being, one falls in turn into a restless and unsettled condition.”

He asked again: “How can one get beyond these three obstacles?” The reply was: “Set up neither of the two sides, being and non-being, and do not take the middle way as a place in which to rest. Turn back and step outside the range of the two vehicles, the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas (in Buddhism, the two kinds of practitioners whose aim is to seek liberation for themselves), and the radiance of numinous clarity will then be able to shine toward Guanghan.”

Pointing Out Delusion

Master Guangmo lived alone in a quiet chamber, sitting calmly in stillness, his mind plain and detached, unentangled by external things, according with what is natural, free and at ease, dwelling fully in a state of self-contentment. At this moment Zhaoranzi rose from his seat, bowed respectfully, and stood before the master, saying: “Your disciple has served you for a long time, yet has still not received from you the transmission of the mysterious principle. Today, as you sit quietly at leisure, I make bold to ask: what, after all, is this principle?”

Master Guangmo drew a little nearer, remained silent for a long while, his expression shifting slightly, and then looked up to heaven and laughed aloud. Zhaoranzi said: “Please, Master, do not decline. Your disciple has all along hoped to hear your instruction.”

Master Guangmo said: “The Dao (the Way) is not, to begin with, something to be asked about, and once it is asked about, there is no way to answer. The moment one opens one’s mouth to speak of it, one has already fallen into a secondary level of discourse. Thus it is said that the Dao cannot be transmitted; once it is handed on as words, it is no longer the true Dao.”

The passage of the Jing (scripture) that follows, “Looked at, it is not seen; listened to…,” is unfinished in the excerpt given, and its meaning is not yet complete.

Master Guangmo said: The Dao (the Way) is not something that can be understood by asking questions, and even if one asks, there is no ready-made answer. The moment one opens one’s mouth to explain it, one has already fallen into a meaning of a secondary order. Thus it is said that the Dao cannot be transmitted; once it is spoken of as something that can be transmitted, it is no longer the true Dao. Look for it and you cannot see it; listen for it and you cannot hear it; try to grasp it and you cannot hold it; ponder it and you cannot know it. At times it seems to be right before one’s eyes, and in the next moment it seems to have gone behind. This is called the form of that which has no form, the image of that which is not a concrete thing—elusive and hard to grasp. Within the vague and indistinct there yet seems to be something real; within the deep and obscure there yet seems to reside a subtle essence. This essence is wholly genuine, and within it there is a trustworthy basis. From antiquity to the present it exists independently and does not change; it circulates and moves without ceasing. It may be called the source of Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things. I do not know what it was originally called, so I provisionally name it “Dao.” Therefore, even when a person is perplexed in the heart and unable to comprehend it, the mouth cannot put it clearly into words; in the end one can only realize it in the depths of one’s own mind.

Zhaoranzi said: Since the Dao cannot be transmitted, I have heard that in the Daoist tradition the patriarchs have always passed it on to later generations, one generation after another, and that masters and disciples likewise receive and transmit it. What, then, is it that they transmit and receive?

The reply was: What is transmitted is the profound teaching; what is received is the subtle method.

Zhaoranzi asked further: Within the profound teaching and the subtle method, is there the Dao?

The reply was: They can be said neither to be wholly the same as the Dao nor to be wholly unrelated to it, just as with the bamboo basket used to catch fish and the snare used to catch rabbits. The bamboo basket is for catching fish; once the fish is caught, one should forget the basket. The snare is for catching rabbits; once the rabbit is caught, one should forget the snare. Language is for expressing what is in the mind; once that intention is grasped, one should forget the language. Where is one to find a person who has already forgotten language, and discuss the Dao with him? The so-called person who forgets words is one who, though not intent on clinging to speech, can speak all day without being bound by words, and who, though not intent on deliberate action, can act all day without clinging to action. Hence it is said: not clinging to speech, yet there is nothing that cannot be said; not clinging to action, yet there is nothing that cannot be done.

Zhaoranzi said, “Before one has caught the fish or the rabbit, one must rely on the fish trap and the rabbit net. If one cannot directly grasp the meaning within, one must turn to words and instruction. I earnestly beg you, Master, in your compassion, to offer a few essential words and dispel my doubts.”

He then bowed and kowtowed once more, and stood with his body bent in reverence. Master Guangmo said, “Sit down, and I will tell you. The Dao (the Way) itself admits of no before or after, yet teaching differs between sudden awakening and gradual cultivation. People’s inborn dispositions differ in keenness and dullness, and their understanding likewise differs in depth. The Qi (vital energy) they receive is not the same, and so the wise and the foolish differ as well; yet if one traces matters back to the root, all come forth from the Dao. Thus it is said that although the paths taken differ, they ultimately return to the same place.

“Those of sudden awakening need not pass through cultivation. They can directly rise out of the sea of suffering, reach the farther shore, and at once realize the unborn (the state beyond birth and death). Thereafter the senses—eyes, ears, nose, and mouth—communicate with one another and return to a single whole. Thought settles and congeals; the body seems to dissolve, and even flesh and bone seem to melt away. One can then turn mountains and rivers about, move cities and towns, tread on water and walk through fire, pass into metal and stone, range freely in every direction without obstruction, and transform without any fixed limit.

“Those of gradual awakening must first understand their own mind and realize their own nature, and only then cultivate life. They must further accumulate merit and amass good deeds, applying themselves over months and years. Whether in haste or in hardship, whether walking, pausing, sitting, or lying down, they must always follow the way of cultivation. Practice continues unbroken, seeming at once present and absent, yet without forced effort. Trained thus without interruption, one’s attainment grows deeper day by day.

“When cultivation reaches its depth, the body is like a withered tree and the mind like cold ashes. In profound secluded stillness one alone sees the light; in dim and distant obscurity one alone hears harmonious sound. In the end, form unites with mind, mind unites with Qi, Qi unites with Shen (spirit), and Shen in turn unites with emptiness. One can then hold Qian and Kun (Heaven and Earth) in the palm, move the sun and moon before the breast, gather and release the Eight Scenes (the eight kinds of celestial vista spoken of in Daoism), assemble and disperse the Three Luminaries (sun, moon, and stars), pass in and out of being and non-being, and freely command existence and perishing, while the transformations of Yin-Yang cannot be fathomed.”

Zhaoranzi said, “I have already listened respectfully to your instruction on the principle of the ‘sudden’ and the ‘gradual.’ I would still like to ask what mind and nature mean. This disciple is dull in capacity; please explain carefully, Master.”

Master Guangmo said, “Alas, why are you so hard to bring to understanding! When you come to ask me, it is the mind that you use; when I answer you, it is likewise the mind that I use. What difference is there between mind and mind? Why insist on inquiring and explaining? Your question and my answer both belong to the deluded mind (the mind governed by discrimination and attachment). Once the deluded mind is extinguished, one no longer asks ‘who that is’ or ‘what that is.’ So it may be said that none of this has ever left our root. What is called the root is nature. Nature is received from the Dao (the Way), and the Dao is received from spontaneity (ziran).”

Zhaoranzi said, “I have already listened respectfully to your instruction on the meaning of mind and nature. I would still like to ask about the way of nourishing life: ought one to engage in deliberate action, or in Wuwei (non-action)? How should it be done?”

The Master replied, “One ought to practice Wuwei. Wuwei is not a matter of doing nothing at all; it is according with spontaneity, and yet there is nothing that cannot be accomplished. Thus it is said that deliberate action instead brings ruin, while clinging and grasping instead lead to loss. The Dao, therefore, follows spontaneity.”

Zhaoranzi asked again, “Is nourishing life, in the end, deliberate action or Wuwei?”

The Master replied, “It ought to be Wuwei—non-action, and yet nothing left undone. The sage does not act deliberately, and so does not bring ruin; he does not cling, and so suffers no loss.”

Zhaoranzi said, “Since we speak of Wuwei, the perfected masters of the past (realized persons who cultivated and attained the Dao) nevertheless taught people to reduce their food, restrain the urge to sleep, subdue the monkey, and rein in the horse. These practices all seem to be deliberate action. What is the principle in them?”

The Master replied, “The Dao itself is Wuwei, but the mind must undergo cultivation. Cultivation is reduction: one subtracts old habits and transforms the acquired tendencies that have later taken hold. One reduces continually until the state of Wuwei is reached; once there is Wuwei, nothing is left undone. Thus it is said that when one proceeds by means of Wuwei, there is no affair that cannot be set in order. Wuwei may also be used to nourish life.”

Zhaoranzi asked, “What is meant by ‘life’ here?”

The Master replied, “Life is the true Qi (vital energy) of primordial unity (the original qi of the time before Heaven and Earth had differentiated). Thus it is said that what the myriad things receive is called life, what Heaven confers is called nature, and acting in accordance with one’s innate nature is called the Dao. There is also the view that what is so of itself, though one does not know the reason, is called life. Is this not precisely the meaning?”

Zhaoranzi said: The ancients said, “If one does not know Ming (destiny), one cannot become a junzi (gentleman).” Here it is also said that not understanding why things are as they are, yet only being able to see that they are so, is what is called “Ming.” Do these two statements differ in meaning? The reply was: The wording differs, yet the principle is the same. What is said here is probably just this.

Zhaoranzi also said: The ancients said, “If one does not know Ming, one cannot become a junzi.” Here it is also said that not understanding why things are as they are, yet only being able to see that they are so, is what is called “Ming.” Do these two statements differ in meaning? The reply was: The wording differs, but the principle is the same. What the ancients meant by “If one does not know Ming, one cannot become a junzi” is that one does not understand how to hold fast to one’s own allotted portion—one’s proper measure and natural endowment. Those who, going beyond their proper measure, greedily seek life and thereby lose the root cannot be regarded as a junzi.

A person takes Jing (essence) as the root, Ming as the foundation, and Xing (nature) as the source. Ming refers to Qi (vital energy), and Xing refers to Shen (spirit). Shen, Qi, and Jing all arise from the same root and have never been separated from one another; to split them apart is to go beyond one’s proper measure.

What is meant by going beyond one’s proper measure? A person’s natural allotment is originally complete and sufficient, neither more nor less. Whatever is done for the nourishing of life is done only out of necessity. As for these necessary matters, one may harbor no deliberate intention; and even without a deliberate intention, one can still nurture life.

If a person does not understand this principle, the mind will be drawn along by vain desires, while one still supposes oneself to be planning ahead and laying up a long-term design; one also indulges in pride, extravagance, and dissolute excess, rushing about in the arena of fame and profit, going forth and never returning, lost and unawakened. How can such a person become a junzi?

Zhaoranzi said, “When Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) have not yet separated, there is no need to discuss how they are to be cultivated. Once they have already separated, how could they ever be joined together again as one?”

The reply was: “Jing, Qi, and Shen separate only because the mind clings to things and races outward after them. Wherever the mind’s thoughts are directed, Qi follows; wherever Qi moves, the body undergoes a corresponding change. Thus, when the mind is stirred by the external world, grief brings tears, pungency brings a runny nose, dryness and heat bring sweat, and sourness brings saliva to the mouth; when one is aroused by sexual desire, Jing too is discharged.

If a person can settle the mind in a state of utmost emptiness and stillness, and bring thought to rest in Wuwei (non-action), one can remain utterly still and unmoved. Even when there is a stimulus and a response, one can fully comprehend the principle of things, while the mind is undisturbed by external objects, and Jing and Qi are naturally preserved. Jing transforms into Qi, Qi transforms into Shen, and Shen in turn transforms into the realm of emptiness and stillness. Emptiness and substantiality interpenetrate one another—this is called Great Unity (Datong). Once Great Unity is attained, there is nothing of which one can say that it is the same, and nothing of which one can say that it is different.”

Zhaoranzi asked further, “I have respectfully received your teaching on the principles of nurturing life. May I ask: is the Great Unity spoken of in elixir refinement just this? And how is one to understand the claim that, upon reaching Great Unity, there is neither anything the same nor anything different?”

Zhaoranzi said, “I have respectfully received your instruction on the principles of cultivating life. May I ask you to explain as well the essentials of refining the elixir?”

Master Guangmo replied, “There are many methods of refining the elixir. Among them, some are orthodox and some heterodox, and they also differ as higher and lower.”

Zhaoranzi asked, “What is meant by heterodox methods?”

Master Guangmo said, “Smelting metals and refining minerals; gathering the Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) of the sun and the radiance of the moon; swallowing clouds and rosy mists and ingesting Qi; using sexual union of man and woman to extract and replenish, and sealing off the Jing; ingesting things of water and fire in hopes of returning to the root and restoring the origin; expelling the old Qi and drawing in the new; massaging the body and counting the breaths; imitating the bear as it climbs and stretches and the bird as it extends its limbs; shaking the sinews and bones and stirring the Qi of the marrow; swallowing saliva and taking Qi inward; fixing the mind on the lower Dantian (energy center) or the Bright Hall; silently paying homage to the Lord on High and circulating the Qi; inverting oneself with the head toward Kunlun, or lying supine with the body like the Yellow River; circulating the so-called golden essence behind the elbow while visualizing; ceasing to eat and practicing abstention from grain; and ingesting medicinal substances in order to prolong the life of the physical form—these methods fall into many classes and cannot be listed one by one. Only a few are briefly mentioned here. All of them belong to the partial and heterodox methods of the Lesser Vehicle.

“Alas, many people are infatuated with side paths and cannot awaken to the true Dao (the Way). Thus those who study the Dao are as numerous as the hairs on an ox, while those who truly realize the Dao are as rare as the qilin.”

Zhaoranzi asked, “Why are those who realize the Dao so few?”

Master Guangmo answered, “Because they have not met a true teacher and received the crucial pointers; instead they are deluded by heterodox teachers, and so they cling stubbornly to their own views and never come to awakening. Hence it is said that one sunk in the deepest delusion will not turn back in a whole lifetime, and one sunk in the utmost ignorance will not understand in a whole lifetime. Ice cannot be carved, and the foolish are hard to make wise; such is the principle of the matter.

“The verse of Perfected Zhengyang says: ‘Wondrous methods number three thousand six hundred; each student of the Dao clings to one and takes it to be the root. What a pity—the true method of the immortals does not lie among these three thousand six hundred methods.’ It also says: ‘The immortals, seeing your stubborn ignorance, left behind ten thousand scrolls of elixir scriptures (Jing). Sentence by sentence and chapter by chapter, they are only metaphors; the true Dao, it turns out, does not depend upon books.’ This is precisely the meaning.”

In the text, terms such as “Dantian,” “Mingtang,” and “bigu” are technical terms of Daoist cultivation. They refer respectively to sites regarded in practice as places where the movements of Qi gather or where visualization is concentrated, and to methods such as abstaining from food in order to nourish life. The quoted passage contains a number of repetitions and suspected corruptions or omissions; the above has been arranged and understood according to where the sense coheres.

At this point Zhaoranzi bowed once more. After rising he kowtowed again and remained standing, asking, “What, after all, is the orthodox method of refining the elixir?”

The master replied, “The orthodox methods of refining the elixir are divided into three gates: the upper, the middle, and the lower. Each gate is further divided into three classes, so that altogether there are nine grades. Shen (spirit) likewise has three designations. The spirit of the Supreme is the spirit of emptiness and non-being; the spirits of Heaven and Earth are the spirits of Yin-Yang; and the spirits of humans and creatures are the spirits of flesh and blood.

Immortals are also divided into nine grades: the immortal of emptiness and non-being, celestial immortals, earthly immortals, spirit immortals, ghost immortals, mountain immortals, water immortals, human immortals, and immortals of things. The immortal of emptiness and non-being cannot be discussed in detail. Each of the remaining kinds of immortal stays within its own domain: celestial immortals do not leave Heaven, earthly immortals do not leave Earth, spirit immortals do not leave spirit, ghost immortals do not leave ghosts, mountain immortals do not leave the mountains, water immortals do not leave the waters, human immortals do not leave humankind, and immortals of things do not leave things.

Traced back to the root, there were originally no distinctions of three gates and nine grades. These differences arise only because people’s understanding varies in depth, their inborn endowments vary in clarity and turbidity, and the work of their cultivation varies in amount.”

Someone asked, “What is elixir cultivation of the highest vehicle (a high level of Neidan, or internal alchemy, centered chiefly on spiritual cultivation)?”

The reply was: “In elixir cultivation of the highest grade of the highest vehicle, one takes the Great Void (the vast, formless emptiness) as the furnace, true emptiness as the cauldron, the perfectly round and luminous nature as the medicine, and the light of heaven as the advancing of the fire (carrying the practice forward by means of clear, lucid awareness). One takes deluded emotion as the leakage of Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), non-contention as the warding off of danger, clarity and stillness as the bathing, Wuwei (non-action) as what guards and sustains the work, the vague and elusive as extracting and adding (regulating advance and retreat in the practice), and remaining unstained by worldly dust as the removal of impurity. Cultivated in this way, it seems attainable in the space of a single breath and is completed within a hundred days.”

Someone asked, “What is elixir cultivation of the middle vehicle?”

The reply was: “In elixir cultivation of the highest grade of the middle vehicle, one takes Qian and Kun (Heaven and Earth) as the furnace, Yin-Yang as the cauldron, and true lead and true mercury (terms of Neidan referring to the yin and yang Jing and Qi within the body) as the medicine, advancing the fire with the Qi of pure Yang. One takes thoughts of desire as the leakage of Jing and Qi, a heart-mind that is awake and clear rather than dull and obscured as the warding off of danger, easy freedom and purity as the bathing, soft yielding and humble deference as what guards and sustains the work, concentration and wisdom (meditative absorption and wisdom) as extracting and adding, and the forgetting of cunning schemes and calculations as the removal of impurity. Cultivated in this way, something may be achieved within a hundred days, and the work can be completed after three years.”

Someone asked, “What is elixir cultivation of the lower vehicle?”

The reply was: “In elixir cultivation of the highest grade of the lower vehicle, one takes the body as the furnace, the heart-mind as the cauldron, and Shen (spirit) and Qi as the medicine, using attentive awareness and contemplative observation as the advancing of the fire. One takes the pursuit of external circumstances as the leakage of Jing and Qi, not sinking into drowsy sleep as the warding off of danger, the cleansing away of stray thoughts as the bathing, humility and peaceful composure as what guards and sustains the work, the regulation of the rising and falling of the breath as extracting and adding, and plain simplicity and purity as the removal of impurity. Cultivated in this way, something may be achieved within three years, and the work can be completed within nine years.

“In elixir cultivation of the lowest grade of the lower vehicle, one likewise takes the body as the furnace, the five viscera and six bowels as the cauldron, and Jing and blood as the medicine, using the circulation of Qi as the advancing of the fire. One takes the leakage of Jing and Qi as seepage, moderation in food and drink as the warding off of danger, rinsing the mouth and swallowing the saliva (nourishing life by rinsing the mouth and swallowing the fluids within it) as the bathing, the practice of good deeds as what guards and sustains the work, daoyin (a method of nourishing life that regulates the breath together with movements of the body) as extracting and adding, and refraining from indulging desire as the removal of impurity. This kind of cultivation may not succeed even over an entire lifetime and often requires practice across successive lives. It can prolong one’s years and benefit longevity, yet it cannot free a person from the cycle of rebirth. Even so, compared with those who slander good conduct, the difference is still as vast as that between heaven and earth.”

Zhaoranzi said, “I have respectfully listened and now understand the principles of refining the elixir. I would still like to ask: the Qingjing Jing (Scripture of Clarity and Stillness) says that one who is able to awaken may transmit the sacred Dao (the Way)—is that so?”

At this, Master Guangmo set down his fly-whisk, drew in his posture, and lay down. After a long while he asked, “Do you understand?”

Zhaoranzi was at once greatly awakened. He leapt up for joy and laughed with an easy, unburdened expression. He bowed three times to Master Guangmo, kowtowed, and then stood to one side in attendance.

Master Guangmo rose with a furrowed brow and asked, “What principle have you seen, that you should bow like this?”

Zhaoranzi said, “What principle could you, Master, possibly have to speak of?”

Master Guangmo said, “Precisely so. Guard this realization well.”

The verse says:

Originally there is nothing to be said and nothing to be transmitted; it is only that those who study the Dao cling to the quan—a bamboo trap for catching fish, here a metaphor for the words and methods used in seeking the Dao.

If one can grasp the true meaning within, it is like the autumn moon in a cold pool: chill, clear, and luminous, its reflection sunk deep into the abyss.