《真仙直指语录》

The Perfected Danyang (Danyang Zhenren), at the Chongyang gathering on Longmen Mountain, said to everyone: “In daily life, do not deceive the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and Humanity (Heaven, Earth, and human beings). In all that you do, be cautious at every moment. Time is precious; do not waste even a moment in vain. Although sleep is a human desire, it too should be appropriately reduced.

Cultivating the Dao (the Way) need not rely on seated meditation alone. Whether walking, standing, or sitting quietly, so long as the mind and Shen (spirit) are settled, all of it is cultivating the Dao. Do not recklessly give rise to thoughts; you should swiftly seek nature and life (what Daoism calls the root of mind-nature and of life). So long as you clarify and purify the inner heart and dispel desire, you are cultivating immortality. Do not give rise to doubt; these are all genuine and reliable words.

It is not easy to remain constantly in clarity and stillness, yet once you realize that all things are empty and illusory, the inner heart naturally grows pure, desire naturally dissipates, mind-nature naturally settles, the foundation of life naturally grows firm, Neidan (internal alchemy—the inner Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) condensed through cultivation) naturally forms, and the way of immortality can be brought to completion. None of this can be done in one’s place by another; each person can only apply effort for himself or herself. Do not press too hastily, and often remain carefree and at ease.

A disciple said: “Had the master not explained it clearly, I would not have dared to believe that this is the wondrous method. Now that I have cultivated it in person and already seen results, I pass it on to others. Simply harbor no doubts. Constantly abide in the principles of Wuwei (non-action), clarity and stillness, and naturalness, and do not let the fire of desire (the fire of craving that disturbs body and mind) arise—then you have attained the Dao.”

He further said: Through the twelve double-hours, the Dao (the Way) of Heaven moves without cease, circulating and ever changing. Can the creative working of Heaven and Earth pause even for a moment? One who cultivates the Dao should take the Dao of Heaven as a model, and through the twelve double-hours of a day and a night turn his own creative working without rest, ever preserving clarity, brightness, and quiet, and giving rise to not a single stray thought. Only this is cultivation. If one can persist in practice in this way, becoming an immortal may be expected any day; yet if merit and practice fall short in any respect, how can any attainment be reached?

I see that, through a day and a night, there is not one double-hour in which you devote yourselves wholly to cultivating the Dao. How, then, will you be able to become immortals hereafter? You have received the offerings of the ten directions (the faithful from every quarter); how are you to repay them? If one morning you close your eyes and die, you will fall into Fengdu (the legendary realm of the underworld), suffer for a long time, and never see a day of release. I now solemnly instruct you as to what the Dao is: only clarify the mind within and cast out desire, let no manner of clinging remain upon the heart, and bring Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) to peace, harmony, and free flow—this is the Dao. Cultivate accordingly, and you will not go astray. If you do not practice in this way, you cannot say that the Perfected who presides over the teaching was at fault. Should you not reflect that, while the seven ancestors were alive, they created boundless sinful karma and endured endless suffering? They look to their descendants to accomplish the Great Dao and, through Heaven’s pardon and deliverance, to ascend to Heaven. I bow and admonish the disciples of my school: from this day on, do not pass the time in vain; persist for the long term, do not retreat from your first resolve, and embrace the Great Dao unto the end. This is what is called the vow.

He further said: A plain and light diet is for nourishing Qi; carefully restraining anger is for nourishing one’s inner nature; dwelling amid disgrace and willingly taking a lowly place is for nourishing De (Virtue/Power); maintaining clarity and stillness is for nourishing the Dao. One’s name is not bound to the registers of the secular world, nor is one’s mind tied to the dusty world. Only thus can one leave behind the constraints of the human form and keep company with the Dao of Heaven.

He further said: To apply oneself wholeheartedly to learning the Dao is something anyone can do. Those who cultivate the Dao and become immortals differ from people of the world. Worldly advancement along the path of office rises and falls; but in cultivating the Dao, to take clarity, stillness, and Wuwei (non-action) as the highest way is the least taxing of all.

It is further said: The essential point of cultivating the Dao (the Way) is nothing more than nourishing Qi (vital energy). When people sink into fame and profit, they often deplete their primordial Qi. Those who study the Dao have nothing else to do; they need only reach clarity and stillness, peacefully nurturing the spirit and carefully regulating the breath. The fluid of the heart moves downward, and kidney Qi rises to the spleen; when stray thoughts are cut off, the spirit naturally becomes luminous, Neidan (internal alchemy) naturally congeals, and the way of immortality can be brought to completion. If one cannot do such a thing as “tucking Mount Tai under the arm and leaping over the North Sea,” one cannot be said to have attained the Dao. “Tucking Mount Tai under the arm and leaping over the North Sea” comes from the ancient books and refers to a mighty feat that ordinary people cannot accomplish.

It is further said: What is called the Dao is clarity and stillness and Wuwei (non-action), carefree and at ease, neither stained nor attached. If, throughout the twelve double-hours of the day, one can carry this cultivation through from beginning to end, one will not go astray.

It is further said: Qi does not easily come to rest and must be cultivated by oneself. If one cannot “tuck Mount Tai under the arm and leap over the North Sea,” one cannot be said to have attained the Dao.

It is further said: What is called the Dao is clarity and stillness and Wuwei, carefree and at ease, neither stained nor attached. If, throughout the twelve double-hours of the day, one can carry this cultivation through from beginning to end, one will not go astray.

It is further said: Qi is hard to quiet; once it moves, it is as swift as a galloping horse, and only stillness can master it. One should first remove external disturbances; even while among a crowd, one should be as quiet as if alone in a deep mountain ravine—only then is one a cultivator of the Dao. If one cannot reach the state of no-mind and no-thought, it is difficult to control the breath.

It is further said: Keeping to clarity, stillness, and plain tranquility is for nourishing the Dao; willingly dwelling in disgrace and lowliness is for nourishing De (Virtue/Power); dispelling anger and ignorance is for nourishing one’s nature; moderating food and drink and seldom tasting rich flavors is for nourishing Qi. Thereafter, when nature and disposition are settled, desires grow faint; when the body is empty and still, the movement of Qi can proceed; when the mind does not cling, the spirit becomes lively; when Yang Qi is abundant, Yin Qi declines. All of these are natural principles.

It is further said: Whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, a cultivator of the Dao should not leave the Dao for even a moment. When walking, set the feet upon a level road; when standing, gather the spirit in the vast emptiness; when sitting, slowly regulate the breath so that respiration becomes long, continuous, and fine; when lying down, settle the spirit into a deep and peaceful stillness—this, too, is the principle of according with nature.

It is further said: Whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, a cultivator of the Dao should not leave the Dao for even a moment. When walking, set the feet upon a level road; when standing, gather the spirit in the vast emptiness; when sitting, slowly regulate the breath so that respiration becomes long, continuous, and fine; when lying down, sink the spirit into a seclusion as quiet as a hidden valley. Persevere for a long time without interruption, and throughout the day maintain a manner of plain simplicity and non-contention.

It is also said: Every day one must keep the heart free of concern, set aside the whole tangle of stray thoughts, and not allow the six gates—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind, these six pathways of perception and deliberation—to be drawn along by external things. Speak little, and cling to nothing. Through all twelve double-hours of the day and night, Shen (spirit) must remain lucid and not sink into dullness. Sleep less, and lay every concern aside together. Although the gates are six, they are governed by one and the same inner master. When external things do not often occupy one’s thoughts, cultivation is thereby benefited.

It is also said: Those who have just begun to study the Dao (the Way) must, from this day forward, set worldly affairs aside, apply themselves with firm concentration, and remain constant from beginning to end; they must on no account give up halfway. If even a single wisp of stray thought has not been removed, the mind of the Dao is not secure. There is no need to dwell on things past, nor to hang one’s concern on things yet to come; only take what is before the eyes as the present moment, and one can become a person with nothing on the mind. If affectionate concern for one’s children is too great, and the aspiration to seek immortality and study the Dao is too slight, then one is not a person who studies the Dao.

It is also said: There is no need to dwell on things past, nor to hang one’s concern on things yet to come; only take what is before the eyes as the present moment, and one can become a person with nothing on the mind. If affectionate concern for one’s children is too great, and the aspiration to seek immortality and study the Dao is too slight, then one is not a person who studies the Dao.

It is also said: You must remember my words. Neither outward conduct in daily life nor inner cultivation may be neglected. In outward cultivation, what is most to be avoided is discussing the faults of others, boasting of one’s own De (Virtue/Power), shutting out the worthy and capable, envying those of talent, and giving rise to benighted worldly thoughts and every kind of fault born of desire. In inner cultivation, one must be truly pure and settled, neither stained nor constrained by external things, regulating Qi (vital energy), nourishing Shen, and living in freedom and ease. One accumulates merit in secret, not seeking that others should know of it, but only hoping that Heaven will see it clearly. A poem says: “The great Dao leads people far from worldly passion and desire, taking Wuwei (non-action) as its subtle foundation. When the world holds nothing one craves, afflictions do not follow along.”

It is also said: What is called “clarity and stillness” is this. Clarity is the purifying of the source of the mind’s thoughts; stillness is the settling of the sea of Qi in which Qi moves. When the source of the mind is pure, external things cannot disturb it; a person’s nature and disposition grow calm, and Shen too becomes clear and bright. When the sea of Qi is quiet, wayward thoughts and desires do not arise; Jing (essence) and Qi are preserved, and the Dantian (energy center) is full. Thus, to clarify the inner mind is like clarifying the surface of water, so that the myriad things are reflected in it of themselves; to nurture Qi is like tending an infant—do not let it come to harm. When Qi flows freely, Shen becomes lucid and luminous; when Shen is lucid and luminous, Qi transforms along with it. This is the state attained by the cultivation of clarity and stillness.

It is also said: What is called “Wuwei” means not letting the mind be constantly pulled by thoughts of attachment, by worry, and by misfortune, nor busying oneself only with weighing gain and loss, benefit and harm. Even while situated amid affairs, the inner mind can still abide in Wuwei; even while taking part in every kind of matter, one does not lose clarity and stillness. This, then, is the state attained by the cultivation of clarity and stillness.

It is also said: what is called Wuwei (non-action) means not letting the mind be led along by all manner of desires, attachments, anxieties, and calculations of gain and loss. Amid ordinary affairs one may outwardly appear to act, yet inwardly one can maintain Wuwei; though one remains among the matters of the world, the mind is not disturbed by them. How much more, then, if one concentrates on purifying the thoughts of the mind, nourishes Qi (vital energy), and preserves Shen (spirit), can one wander freely and at ease in the realm of carefree roaming, and abide securely in a state free of all entanglement.

It is also said: if in cultivation one always proceeds with deliberate intent and seeks the results of contrived action, all of this belongs to technique; but if one cultivates through no-mind and Wuwei, one can reach the inexhaustible realm of pure stillness and empty luminosity.

It is also said: wine is a drink that disorders the mind and one’s nature, and meat harms life, so it is best to take neither. A breach of the precept against wine and meat may still be forgiven, but a breach of the precept against sexual desire cannot be pardoned. Lust harms a person more than wolves or tigers: it ruins fine De (Virtue/Power), impairs good conduct, dissipates Jing (essence) and Qi, exhausts Shen, and even injures the body. It is therefore a grave offense for those who cultivate the Dao (the Way).

It is also said: the great Dao takes no-mind as its root, the forgetting of words as its function, softness and weakness as its essential character, and purity and stillness as its foundation.

It is also said: the Great Dao (the Way) takes mindlessness (a state of mind free from attachment and from reckless movement) as its root, takes the forgetting of words as its function, takes softness and weakness as its nature, and takes clarity and stillness as its foundation. Applied to the cultivation of body and mind, these principles mean moderating one’s diet, cutting off stray thoughts, evening the breath in quiet sitting, and calmly nurturing primordial Qi (vital energy). When mind and spirit do not chase outward, the nature of the mind becomes settled; when the body is not overworked, Jing (essence) and Qi can be preserved; when the spirit is undisturbed, Neidan (internal alchemy—the condensation and refinement of Jing, Qi, and Shen (spirit) spoken of in Daoist inner cultivation) can form. One then dissolves feelings and thoughts within emptiness and stillness, bringing the spirit to the utmost peace. One may then be said to comprehend the wondrous principles of the Great Dao without ever leaving one’s door.

From ancient times, those who have cultivated immortality have not dared to pass beyond the two words chengzhan (“limpid clarity”); these two words express the essence of practice. The scriptures say: “Clarify and purify the inner mind, and the spirit will naturally become clear and bright.” Practitioners often speak of clarifying the mind, yet they may not understand the principle of clarifying the mind. What counts as clarifying the mind? One need only give rise to no thought at all and return to the true emptiness of original nature—deep, secluded, and luminously clear—like the sky, clear and empty, without discrimination. This alone is truly clarifying the mind. Only when there is nothing in the mind that one can take up and clarify is it called clarifying the mind.

The source of a person’s spiritual nature and subtle awareness is originally clear and still; it is only the various dusts and disturbances of the world that obscure it, just as dust falling into still water: the more dust, the more turbid the water; the more stray thoughts, the more original nature is darkened. Therefore, clarifying the mind means reducing disturbances, so that the water naturally becomes clear and original nature naturally becomes manifest. When the work of clarification is shallow, the slightest stirring raises dust; when the work is deep, even if wind and waves set the water moving, the water does not grow turbid. Water is used here as a metaphor for whether the work of cultivation is shallow or deep.

In studying the Dao, what is valued is genuine, solid practice, and also examining whether one’s own mind is clear or turbid. Some people merely take up the sayings of the ancients and then claim that the Great Dao originally needs no cultivation and that there is nothing to be realized. Yet although the nature of the Dao originally requires neither cultivation nor realization, the dusty, worldly mind must still be diminished day by day; only when one forgets the discriminating mind and the nature of attachment does one truly accord with the realm of “no cultivation and no realization.” Thus the Daodejing (Classic of the Way and Its Virtue) says: “In cultivating the Dao one must diminish day by day; diminish and diminish again, until one reaches Wuwei (non-action).” This is precisely the principle being spoken of.

Since ancient times, those who cultivate the Dao (the Way) may be said to have attained naturalness only when they have realized true emptiness and stillness and gained the genuine concentration of no-mind. What is meant by realizing emptiness and stillness? It means that thoughts in the mind disperse and even the subtlest deliberation ceases; inwardly there is nothing known, and outwardly nothing is perceived. Inner and outer alike return to stillness, and phenomenal appearances together with emptiness and stillness are both extinguished. Only this is called naturalness.

The eyes see colors yet do not cling to colors; the ears hear sounds yet are not drawn along by sounds. In this way, sound and color cannot disturb the inner mind. One’s original nature naturally gathers and returns to its own nature, mingling with the profound and far-reaching realm and transforming into a single point of spiritual light, inner and outer in perfect harmony. Only upon reaching this stage can one be said to accord with naturalness and to have realized the Dao of emptiness and stillness.

As for what is called natural emptiness and stillness: if the mind still holds that there is an object that can be realized, then something remains unrealized; if one clings to no object at all, there is nothing that cannot be realized. This is just as the Xuexian ji (Record of Studying Immortality) says: one should know that the supreme Dao, at its utmost, is dark and still, without gate or boundary, and yet open and vast. If one takes it to be in some particular place, then it is not elsewhere; if one says it is present everywhere, then there is no place that does not contain it.

It also says: if the body is not wearied, the results will not be great; if one’s activity does not range widely, the resolve of the mind is hard to temper until it no longer wavers. Some exert themselves within the religious order—the religious lineages devoted to cultivating the Dao—undertaking many toilsome tasks; others apply their effort to inner cultivation and thoroughly set aside worldly affairs. Both of these belong to the higher path of seeking the Dao.

Yet if one has already left household life and the mind has still not truly let go of its attachments, one should not waste the passing days in vain. One ought to accumulate merit and cultivate good deeds, single-minded and free of selfishness, never turning back even unto death, with the whole heart directed toward the religious order and no delusive thoughts arising. What the ancestral master called “leaving it for Heaven to decide” means precisely this.

At Huating the Master said, “What is the Dao (the Way)? Qi (vital energy) is the root of life. Do you not know that it is the very breath exhaled through the nose?”

He also said, “In cultivating the Dao, one need only devote oneself to clarity and stillness and to Wuwei (non-action), wandering free and at ease, unstained by external things and clinging to nothing. If these twelve characters can be truly and thoroughly realized, one can become a Daoist of complete awakening. Simply trust the words of this old man and practice accordingly; benefit will come of itself, and you young people will not be led astray.”

Again, at Congren Hermitage in Gaoma, to the west of the county town, the Master declared aloud, “Even if one spends ten thousand taels of gold every day, one is suited only to coarse cloth and plain food.” He said that the year before, while passing beyond the frontier, he heard someone recite this line, found it very sound, and so wrote it down.

The Master said: The Scripture of Clarity and Stillness (Qingjing Jing) teaches, “If a person can constantly preserve clarity and stillness, heaven and earth will both return to the self.” The “heaven and earth” spoken of here are not the heaven and earth outside that cover and bear the myriad things, but the heaven and earth within the human body.

The Master also said: The Scripture of Clarity and Stillness teaches, “If a person can constantly preserve clarity and stillness, heaven and earth will both return to the self.” The “heaven and earth” here refer to the interior of the body. In the human body the upper part is like heaven and the lower part like earth. If the Qi of heaven descends and the channels of earth are open, so that the Qi above and below meet and harmonize, true Qi will naturally grow stable. The “true Qi” spoken of here is the name, in Daoist cultivation, for the primordial Qi within the body.

The Master also said, “The Confucians teach, ‘Repay De (Virtue/Power) with De, and repay resentment with uprightness.’ Perfected Jin said, ‘Form bonds through trustworthiness, and respond with kindness.’ To act in this way is enough.”

The Master also said, “What is called ‘no-mind’ is not dull ignorance, devoid of all consciousness, like that of cats and dogs or wood and stone. It is to let the mind abide in the realm of clarity and stillness and give rise to no deviant thoughts. Thus ordinary people lack a mind of clarity and stillness, while people of the Dao are without a mind soiled by worldly defilement. This is not to say that either is without consciousness, like wood and stone or cats and dogs.”

The Master also said, “Attain neither arising nor ceasing, and one can see the Tathagata; after awakening to the Dao, one may be spared another birth into the womb.” Master Qiu said, “This refers to the emergence of the yin spirit (Yin Shen). If one reaches the state of no-mind and yet is without consciousness, like wood and stone or cats and dogs…”

The Master also said, “Attain neither arising nor ceasing, and one can see the Tathagata; after awakening to the Dao, one may be spared another birth into the womb.” Master Qiu said, “This refers to the emergence of the yin spirit. Only when one can reach the celestial court and suddenly see heavenly flowers swirling in flight does it count as the emergence of the yang spirit (Yang Shen). This is merely the initial stage of cultivation.” Of these, “yin spirit” and “yang spirit” are terms of Daoist cultivation, referring to the different levels at which, as practitioners say, spirit-consciousness departs the body.

Gong Daosheng asked, “How can one reach the state of limpid clarity and constant stillness (a realm of clear peace and enduring quiet)?” The master replied, “Even this state must be let go of as well; there is no need to cling to it or pursue it.”

Yu Qingfeng asked, “Your disciple has cultivated for many years, yet my Dao-eye (the wisdom that discerns the great Dao, the Way) is still not clear, and my mind-ground is not lucid either. Why is this?” The master replied, “There is no other reason; it is only that your cultivation of the Dao is not yet sufficiently single-minded and diligent.”

The master said, “Those who study the Dao need not read widely in the scriptures (Jing, the classics), for that disturbs the mind and hinders cultivation. Works such as Heshang Gong’s commentary on the Daodejing and Jinlingzi’s commentary on the Yinfujing may be glanced at now and then without harm; but it is best to read nothing at all and devote oneself wholly to nurturing Qi (vital energy). This is the superior method.”

The master also said, “The Qi within the body must not be lost, and the Shen (spirit) within the mind must not grow dim. Someone asked, ‘How can one keep Qi from scattering?’ The master answered, ‘Let the body abide in Wuwei (non-action), and do not move rashly.’ The questioner asked again, ‘How can one keep Shen from growing dim?’ The master answered, ‘Let the mind be free of the pull of miscellaneous affairs.’”

The master said, “Zhang Runzi has a very good saying. He often says that in one’s ordinary comings and goings and in the conduct of affairs, one must take good care of the treasure that nourishes the person (the Jing, or essence, together with Qi and Shen, which nourish body and mind).” When he had finished, the master laughed and said, “He himself keeps a shop, yet the words he speaks are advice for other people.”

The master also recited a verse: “Deeply storing White Snow does not on that account make one noble; widely planting Yellow Sprouts does not on that account make one poor.” White Snow and Yellow Sprouts are both terms in Neidan (internal alchemy), used figuratively for the Jing and Qi that are condensed, refined, and nurtured in cultivation. If one wishes to nurture Qi and keep Shen whole, one should shut out stray thoughts, make both the inner and the outer pure and still, guard the mind and spirit in a gentle and unbroken continuity, and yet not apply excessive force. If Jing and Qi are not leaked for three years, the lower elixir is formed; if they are not leaked for six years, the middle elixir is formed; if they are not leaked for nine years, the great elixir is formed. When cultivation is brought to completion, this is called the perfection of the ninefold elixir, also known as the fulfillment of three thousand merits.

The Ten Admonitions says: First, one must not violate the laws of the state. Second, upon meeting fellow cultivators of the Dao (the Way), one should bow first; all men and women are to be regarded as one’s own parents, for the beings of the six paths of transmigration may all, in the past, have been one’s parents. Third, abstain from wine, sex, wealth, and temper, and do not dispute right and wrong or reckon distinctions of you and me. Fourth, dispel sorrow and anxious thought, together with clinging, craving, and attachment; as soon as a single thought arises, remove it at once. Throughout the twelve double-hours of the day, constantly examine your own faults, and at the slightest deviation correct it immediately. Fifth, when receiving favor, remain alert, and do not pretend to be a good person in order to accept the offerings of others. Sixth, extinguish the anger aroused by ignorance, constantly practice forbearance, repay others with kindness, and harbor no selfishness toward the myriad things. Seventh, be careful in speech and moderate in food and drink, taste fine flavors sparingly, renounce glory and splendor, and cut off aversion and greedy attachment. Eighth, do not pursue strange and uncanny matters; abide in your proper station, seeking only to sustain life by alms, and do not invite the petty dust and toil of worldly affairs. Ninth, when dwelling in a hermitage, let the number of residents not exceed three, nor let companions on the Way exceed three. If someone falls ill, support one another; if you die, I will bury you, and if I die, you will bury me. Where either of you fails to understand, instruct and guide one another, and do not give rise to a divided mind.

Tenth, do not give rise to a mind that contends and strives to excel. Constantly practice helpful expedients and assist others, benefiting them even at cost to yourself. Even when alone in a dark room, be as cautious as if facing sages and worthies. Live in poverty and gentleness, be respectful and humble toward others, pass your days in accordance with conditions, cut off craving and hatred completely, roam free and at ease, and cultivate with a single mind. Remain consistent from beginning to end, and never grow slack. Only when the inner mind is pure and free of deluded action is there truth; only when thought is clean and free of evil notions is there goodness. Cultivate the vital breath and preserve the spirit, constantly hold compassion, and accumulate merit in secret, not seeking that others know of it, but wishing only that Heaven clearly perceives it.

Recorded Sayings of Master Tan Changzhen Instructing His Disciples

Ordinary people continually undergo transmigration, with birth and death never ceasing, all because the thoughts of the mind have not come to rest. Deshan said: “When the mind arises, all things and phenomena arise along with it; when the thoughts of the mind cease, all things and phenomena cease as well.” If not a single thought arises, one can be freed from birth and death. What is meant by “having a mind”? Master Tan explained it to his disciples as follows.

Ordinary people revolve endlessly through birth and death only because the thoughts of the mind never cease. Deshan said, “When thoughts of the mind arise, all things and phenomena arise along with them; when thoughts of the mind come to rest, all things and phenomena come to rest along with them.” If not a single thought arises, one can transcend birth and death.

What is meant by “having a mind”? Sentient beings are drawn along by the three poisons of greed, anger, and delusion, and so give rise to the mind-fire of ignorance. This is precisely what the master meant by “leaping out of the three mountain passes.” Therefore, one who has awakened to the Dao (the Way) must, in cultivation, cut away emotional attachments and craving, overcome the habit of being rigid and sharp, subdue and remove the unwholesome thoughts in the minds of sentient beings, and thereby see the true nature “before one’s parents were born”—that is, one’s original face.

What is an unwholesome mind? Faced with every kind of circumstance, one gives rise to thoughts of foolishness, greed, jealousy, rivalry, and craving for wealth and sensual beauty; the mind calculates again and again, and thoughts arise and cease without pause. Karmic obstructions long accumulated, together with old habits long familiar, conceal the true source and leave one unable to find liberation. Only by thoroughly removing these unwholesome thoughts can one see one’s own nature.

What is meant by seeing one’s own nature? It means that throughout the twelve double-hours of the day, thought after thought remains clear and still, and the true source is not obscured by circumstances to which one was formerly attached; the mind is ever like empty space, free and at ease, while Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) naturally mingle and flow in harmony. If cultivation can understand this and put it into practice, what birth and death remains to be feared, and what karmic offenses remain to be dreaded? The moment even a slight thought arises and the mind is no longer clear and still, one is obstructed and can no longer be called free.

How can this be done? If only each of you keeps a resolve as firm as a mountain and cultivates straight ahead without wavering, then even if great demons stand in the way, you must persist to the end of this life and never turn back; in this way you will surely reach the goal. Perfected Jin said, “A clear mind and a still intention are the road to heaven; scattered thoughts and a mind and spirit in disorder are the gate to hell.”

Sayings of Perfected Liu Changsheng

If the mind can thoroughly penetrate one thing, it can shed one layer of material bondage; if it can thoroughly penetrate the myriad things, it can shed the bondage of the myriad things and realize the Dao of emptiness. If one has never truly penetrated anything, yet takes Wuwei (non-action) to mean vacant unknowing, that is called stubborn emptiness. Once one has become a sage, all under heaven will naturally come to know.

The Most High (Taishang, the honorific by which Daoism addresses the supreme deity) said: “Only one who can live by begging for food is my disciple.” In begging, one receives the kindness of others, and one’s own actions can no longer be decided entirely by oneself. From time without beginning, the karmic force accumulated over life after life has grown as vast as a mountain, and the mind-spirit (Shen) has never been at rest for a single moment. Only when this karmic force is exhausted can cultivation be seen to bear fruit. The practitioner feels the breath grow calm and the spirit settle; once the realm of the sages and worthies is reached, people throughout the world will naturally come to know of it.

The Most High said again: “Only one who can live by begging for food is my disciple.” Begging causes one to receive the kindness of others, so that one’s actions are no longer entirely free. From time without beginning, the karmic force of successive lives has piled up like a mountain, and the mind-spirit, like a monkey, climbs without ceasing and has never rested. Only when the karmic force is exhausted can cultivation be counted effective. One then feels the breath peaceful and the spirit at ease, and goes on to attain the Dao (the Way) that is natural, true, and constant.

If one merely holds a single scroll of scripture (Jing) and takes this to be cultivation, that is right, and yet not entirely right. To make the inner mind open and unobstructed, one must read through the various scriptures and treatises, yet one must not cling to the written word; one must make the mind-spirit bright and clear, able to illuminate and dispel delusion. The Dao has neither form nor shadow or trace, yet people often suspect that it has a beginning and an end. If there is no selfish desire in the heart, if one constantly preserves clarity and stillness and carries that clarity and stillness through to the end, one is a person who cultivates the Dao. The two words “clarity and stillness” already contain the essential meaning of cultivating the Dao.

The Most High said: “Even I myself grow white-haired; who, then, can keep the bodily form forever intact?” The body belongs among the myriad things; how can one rely on this temporary body and hope to live long without dying? What has form will in the end be destroyed, while the formless Dao is not so. When the mind comes to insight, crooked and delusive desires do not arise; when the mind has wisdom, its light remains always present and is never extinguished. Only after the original Shen (Yuanshen, a person’s primordial spirit) manifests can life be preserved and long endured. When the Three Powers (heaven, earth, and humanity) return to emptiness and blend into one, the work of the natural is accomplished.

It is further said that if a practitioner can bring Shen (spirit) into union with Qi (vital energy), they can attain immortality. Someone asked, “How can one bring Shen into union with Qi?” Each person offered a different account, yet none of them reached the essential point.

The master said, “To understand the principles of the myriad things, one must rise free of the bonds imposed by the myriad things. Clear away one portion of the dust in the heart, and understanding of the Dao (the Way) deepens by one portion; clear away ten portions of dust, and understanding of the Dao deepens by ten portions as well. Only when thoughts that crave the dusty world are utterly cut off can original nature be preserved; only when thoughts that crave the forms and colors of external things are cut off can life be preserved; only when thoughts of benighted ignorance are eliminated can the inner heart be kept in harmonious emptiness and at peace.

Through all twelve double-hours of the day, the practitioner must turn inward and examine their own faults. Only in this way can Shen and Qi come to rest within. When Shen and Qi are at rest, that is true cultivation; not fastening upon the faults of others is true practice. Cultivating the Dao through long years and accumulated months, one inwardly nourishes Jing (essence) and Qi. When Jing and Qi are abundant, the activity of Shen can respond to Qi, and Qi in turn can settle Shen. Persisting in this without interruption, one naturally brings Shen into union with Qi.

This is like mixing water and earth into clay and then forming it into vessels. If they have not been fired by the true fire, the vessels will turn back into mud when they meet water; if they have been fired by the true fire, they are not easily destroyed. Even bricks and tiles, once passed through fire, can endure a thousand years without decay—how much more so if a person’s nature and life, through cultivation, become a supreme treasure?”

A letter from the Perfected Qiu Changchun to Daoist friends in Xizhou.

Broadly speaking, to cultivate the truth and study the Dao (the Way), one must rely on the continual accumulation of good deeds and merit. If one cannot hold firm to one’s resolve and apply oneself with sincere devotion, it is very difficult to transcend the ordinary and enter the realm of the sages. Some strive in cultivation within the religious community, taking on many laborious tasks; others apply their effort inwardly and set aside all worldly affairs. So long as one can restrain selfish desires and devote oneself single-mindedly to the Dao, all of this forms the foundation for accumulating blessings.

Yet the Dao encompasses heaven and earth and is so vast as to be beyond measure. Small good deeds and modest merit often do not readily show immediate effect. Thus it is said that even if one awakens to the principle in a single moment, one must still undergo long refinement; even if one suddenly understands one’s original mind, one must still consolidate that understanding through complete practice and the broad accumulation of every kind of good deed. To awaken to the Dao in this life is the result of merit accumulated in previous lives. People do not know the karmic conditions of former lives; they see only that, after years of hardship, they have not yet succeeded, and so they suppose that all this labor has been useless. They then lose heart and grow slack—which is truly regrettable.

In fact, whether sitting, lying down, standing, or walking, so long as the Dao is kept in the heart, even if one has not yet awakened inwardly, one is secretly accumulating merit at every moment. Until merit has been accumulated sufficiently, one’s attainment in the Dao cannot be complete. This is like someone who has set his heart on a great luminous pearl worth a million and wishes to buy it, but does not yet have enough money. Day and night he works and saves with diligence and thrift, gradually setting aside three thousand, five thousand, even thirty thousand or fifty thousand. Although the sum is still insufficient and he cannot yet purchase the pearl, the money he has saved can still meet an urgent need; his circumstances are already far better than those of a poor household. Those who accumulate merit and practice good conduct are the same: although they have not yet attained the Dao, their roots of goodness are already deep. Even if they do not attain the Dao in this life or the next, sages will support and guide them. Compared with those who have no foundation from previous lives, the difference is truly great.

The only fear is that the mind may withdraw and rest midway. Once one loses heart, even the sages find it hard to bring about one’s liberation. So long as one does not retreat or grow slack—whether in this life, the next, or through still longer generations—one will be received and guided until one thoroughly understands the great Dao.

I myself have no foundation from previous lives. Although I met an enlightened teacher and endured every hardship, I have still not attained the Dao to this day. Danyang and Changzhen (Daoist figures) both possessed karmic conditions from former lives, and so in only ten years, or five, they were able to ascend in freedom, as if beyond the heavens. Although I have not yet attained the Dao, the hardships I have undergone are also unlike those of ordinary people.

The Patriarch said: “Those who cultivate the way of Wuwei (non-action) must first abandon the household, and then let go even of themselves. If they fall ill, they simply let themselves be ill; if they die, they simply let themselves die. When the final moment comes, they still die embracing the great Dao, leaving all to the arrangement of Heaven’s mandate.” These words are utterly penetrating; those who study the Dao should ponder them carefully.

He also said: “In your cultivation you are always lacking in single-minded dedication. When the time comes that one ought to die, let him die; even at the critical juncture of life and death, one must hold fast to the great Dao (the Way) and die, leaving the judgment to Heaven’s will. These are truly the essential words, and practitioners should ponder them with care.”

He also said: “In your cultivation you are always not single-minded, and you are unwilling to undertake any labor or practical tasks—how then can you be worthy of the food and drink offered by the ten directions (the faithful from every quarter)? If you have the good fortune to leave the household life, yet still cannot shed the attachments close at hand, you should find a way to let them go; if you do not have the good fortune to leave the household life, then through whatever twists and turns, you must still find a way to withdraw from worldly affairs, or else it will be hard to bring your cultivation to completion.”

Yu Qingfeng asked: “If one concentrates and keeps watch over the square inch (that is, the inner mind), how should this be done?” The master said: “This is true emptiness (not clinging to any thought or thing). The principle within it is hard to put into words. For every portion of stray thoughts you remove from the mind, your cultivation gains one portion of real work; even if you have removed nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine portions and only one portion remains, it still cannot be called purity. They must be cleared away completely. The sages and worthies will examine and test you within your heart, and of themselves a true master will come to guide and deliver you.”

He also said: “The Celestial Perfected Sovereign (an immortal perfected being of Daoist legend) said: When the refining of Shen (spirit), the refining of Qi (vital energy), and the refining of the physical form have all been accomplished, one can become a celestial official or a fire official, belonging to Yang. Breath is wind; with wind assisting fire, and through prolonged refining and nurturing, both form and Shen can be brought to a wondrous state. The ancients said: first, thought comes to rest; second, the breath comes to rest; third, the pulse comes to rest; fourth, all is extinguished—then one enters the great absorption (deep meditative concentration), no longer coming into contact with external things, and can become a veteran practitioner of seven hundred years. Marvelous, marvelous! In the course of cultivation, when one encounters the labors of the dusty world, if one does only minor tasks, this still belongs to external cultivation. One need neither deliberately pursue such things nor deliberately avoid them; even while responding to external things, one should not cling to them.”

He also said: “Those who awaken to the Dao accumulate their cultivation as a farming household accumulates grain, from a single ge (a unit of capacity) up to ten thousand shi; and as people of the world accumulate wealth, from a single copper coin up to ten thousand strings. Cherishing primordial Qi in this way and not allowing it to be depleted, one lets primordial Qi gather until it naturally transforms into wondrous spiritual power.”

He also said that the substance of nature is originally as empty and luminous as the void, and that when the thoughts of the mind are upright, one can correspond with it. Qingfeng said, “If one cannot reach the realm of true emptiness, the yang spirit (Yang Shen) can hardly emerge and depart.” The master said, “Without attaining true emptiness, the yin spirit (Yin Shen) cannot depart either. Only when one can bring the work to completion in difficult places does it count as true merit and practice.” Qingfeng said, “Carry the work through well in places of quarrel and clamor.” Patriarch Qiu said, “One cultivates all the better amid the turmoil of human affairs. You of the younger generation need only hold to the years of cultivation, and at the same time subdue the mind that craves sensual beauty. I cultivated with bitter diligence for seven years, and the attainment I gained surpasses the practice of others over seven lifetimes.”

Perfected Yao asked, “How can one avoid leakage?” Patriarch Qiu said, “If one can realize the realm of true clarity and stillness, there will naturally be no leakage.”

Liu Daojian asked, “During cultivation the inner kidneys grow hot while the heart grows cold, and the whole body heats up—what is this?” Patriarch Qiu said, “Sages and worthies have already explained conditions of this kind. Thereafter, the various scenes seen by the eyes and sounds heard by the ears must none of them be clung to.” He also said, “If in the void one sees only human heads falling, that is a sign that the Golden Elixir (Jindan) is about to be completed.” The “yin spirit” and “yang spirit” spoken of here, together with the unusual visions of cultivation, are all terms and experiences in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy).

He asked again, “How many years has Wang of Hucheng been a renunciant?” The answer was, “Three years.” Patriarch Qiu said, “You cannot read, so do not learn to write essays, lest you disturb the cultivation of the mind. First rouse a bitter resolve for three to five years: do not discuss right and wrong, but only examine your own faults; do not stir the anger of ignorance; do not covet finery; cut off greed and hatred completely; put aside sensual desire; be clear, still, and free—then you are one who cultivates the Dao (the Way).”

He also said, “When the spirit is settled and the breath-energy (Qi, vital energy) is peaceful, that is seeing nature (realizing one’s original nature). So long as the mind within is clear and pure, it is like the moon. If someone asks about an image that has form, answer with the formless; if someone asks about an image that is formless, answer with what has form. When being and non-being reflect each other, that is the mysterious and again the mysterious.”

He also said, “If merit and practice are insufficient and cultivation is not yet complete, one can only be consigned to Peng Island (the immortal realm of Daoist legend). After five hundred years one comes again into the human world to accumulate merit and practice, because merit and practice in heaven are hard to accumulate, while merit and practice in the human world are easier to accumulate. Those of superior capacity, after attaining the Dao, transcend the Three Realms and do not dwell on Peng Island.”

Someone asked, “Does cultivation depend on one’s own aspiration, or on the support and guidance of the sages and worthies?” The master answered, “It depends entirely on aspiration. If one has no aspiration of one’s own, how can the sages and worthies offer guidance?”

He was asked again, “What counts as having aspiration?” The master said, “Not allowing stray thoughts to arise—that is aspiration.”

Someone else said, “When one first begins cultivating the Dao (the Way), one practices austerely for seven or eight years without losing resolve, does not allow stray thoughts to arise, and does not forget the original aspiration; only afterward does one gradually deepen the work of cultivation. When one encounters demonic obstacles, what counts as having aspiration?” The master answered, “Not allowing stray thoughts to arise—that is aspiration.” He went on, “When one first begins cultivating the Dao, one practices austerely for seven or eight years without losing resolve, does not allow stray thoughts to arise, and does not forget the original aspiration; only afterward does one gradually deepen the cultivation. Even if one encounters demonic obstacles, they need not hinder practice. The sages and worthies will protect one in secret and will not allow the practitioner to be ruined.”

Someone else asked, “What are the inner and outer forms of daily self-cultivation?” Qiu (the person referred to here) said, “To set aside selfishness and accommodate others, and to restrain oneself and follow the rites and norms—this is outer daily self-cultivation. To treat others generously and endure humiliation, to cut off confused thoughts, and not to cling in the mind to any of the myriad things—this is inner daily self-cultivation.”

The next day someone again asked about inner and outer daily self-cultivation. Qiu said, “Consider others first and oneself afterward, and infer another’s circumstances from one’s own—this is outer daily self-cultivation. Cultivating in clarity and stillness is inner daily self-cultivation.” He added, “Always keep the mind lucid and settled; through all twelve double-hours of the day, maintain awareness at every moment, and do not let original nature grow dim. Only when the mind and Shen (spirit) are settled and Qi (vital energy) is harmonious is this true inner daily self-cultivation. Cultivating humaneness and De (Virtue/Power), restraining oneself and benefiting others—only this is true outer daily self-cultivation.”

He also said, “Do not cling to anything the ears hear or the eyes see. Concentrate on cultivation until the mind and Shen are settled and Qi is harmonious: only then is it true inner daily self-cultivation. Cultivating humaneness and De, restraining oneself and benefiting others: only then is it true outer daily self-cultivation.”

He also said, “Do not cling to anything among what the ears hear or the eyes see. Concentrate on cultivation, and the sages and worthies will support one in secret. There are those who, whenever Shen and thought grow settled and Qi becomes harmonious, feel the kidneys within the body grow hot, with black Qi steaming upward and spreading through the four limbs and the hundred bones, dispersing only after one or two double-hours. They also see scenes of mountains and waters, and of the sun and the moon.”

He also said, “When we break through the Heavenly Gate three times (a vital pass, or a realm, in cultivation), the sun and the moon appear before the eyes, and one directly sees the myriad phenomena in all their profusion.” After he had spoken, he regretted it and cautioned, “Do not look at these visions.”

He also said, “There is a kind of person who cultivates the Dao (the Way) by circulating the breath in the Dantian (energy center), the site of Neidan (internal alchemy) practice in the lower abdomen. This is only a comparatively shallow approach to cultivation, taught to those of shallow foundation and small capacity. Only when one can bring the mind-nature to be as open and transparent as empty space, spiritually luminous and lucidly awake, is that the great Dao. Cultivation should begin from here, and one must above all grasp a practice that is accurate and solidly grounded.”

Someone asked, “How can one make the breathing fine and slow, continuous and unbroken?” Perfected Qiu replied, “One need only let the breath be as slight and prolonged as a turtle’s. This is the daily practice of the cultivator; do not cling to the breath itself.” The ancients said, “Divine water does not leave the body; the floral pool is renewed day by day. If one can constantly drink of it, one is a person of the Daluo Heaven.” Here “divine water” and “floral pool” are technical terms in Neidan cultivation, used figuratively for the fluids within the body and the subtle Qi (vital energy) into which they are transformed. If one can constantly nurture and employ them, one may become an immortal of the Daluo Heaven.

It is also mentioned that while Master Ma was alive, someone came to ask how to remain long in the world and prolong life. Suddenly a voice was heard in the air, saying, “Your capacity is too small.” Both an old saying of the Chan school and the Qingjing (Clarity and Stillness) school say, “Divine water does not leave the body; the floral pool is renewed day by day. If one can constantly drink of it, one is a person of the Daluo Heaven.”

It is also said that while Master Ma was still in the world, someone came to ask how to remain among the living and prolong one’s years. Suddenly a voice was heard in the air: “Your capacity is far too small.” There is an old saying in the Chan tradition: “The two words ‘purity and stillness’ are, for the likes of you, no better than two cartloads of filth.” The fleshly body is limited by nature, yet passion and desire have no end. People grow besotted like bees craving honey, and frantic like butterflies craving flowers.

The Perfected Danyang said, “If the roots of karmic obstruction lie deep, and those obstructions cannot be exhausted, what hope remains of attaining the Dao (the Way)?” There are also those who transmit the arts of the bedchamber known as “plucking and combat”—methods of gathering and replenishing Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) through sexual union between man and woman. Such practices drain and disorder the Shen (spirit), ruin one’s De (Virtue/Power), and delude the many. After death one’s name is entered in the registers of ghosts, and the traces of the soul fall into Fengdu, the underworld of legend. The scriptures say, “To seek long life, nothing matters more than caution in sexual matters; why insist on doing what makes the spirits weep?” When people of the world indulge their passions and chase after desire, the body may still be alive, yet the spirit is already weeping.

In Baisha Town of Zhongmu there was a Venerable Zhao the Third. Someone asked him about the way of nourishing life, and he replied, “The place that gave you birth may also become the place that brings you to your death.” These words cut very deep. The scriptures say, “If a person can constantly preserve purity and stillness, heaven, earth, and the myriad things all return to that person.” To take this further: purity and stillness make the breath peaceful; when the Qi is harmonious, the Shen is full; and only a full Shen is the root of cultivating immortality. Once the root is established, the Dao arises from it. This is inner cultivation, and it must also be brought to completion with the aid of outward good deeds.

The way of the immortals is real, whereas the glory and splendor prized in the human world run counter to what that way seeks. Every evil should be abstained from, and every good should be cultivated. Let good deeds be complete and body and mind be pure; persist through a whole life without shrinking back or growing slack; hold to the great Dao even unto death, and do no harm to one’s own resolve. In sum, one must accumulate merit and virtue outwardly and consolidate the Shen inwardly. Only when inner and outer practice are both profound can one gradually enter the ranks of the immortals and roam the grotto-heavens and blessed lands, the wondrous realms where immortals dwell in Daoist legend.

All who have attained the Dao, from ancient times to the present, have needed merit and virtue together with wisdom, each supporting the other. Wisdom is like the flame of a lamp, and merit and virtue are like the oil: without oil the flame does not shine, and without merit and virtue wisdom can hardly show itself. Thus those of true understanding would rather suffer loss themselves than damage their own merit and virtue. Even if people of the world are gifted by nature and broad in learning, if they do not further cultivate meritorious conduct, they will never penetrate the subtle mystery at the source of the great Dao.

The sages and worthies who have attained the Dao in ancient and modern times all comprehend one and the same great Dao, yet their merit and virtue differ. Those whose outward merit is great hold a higher place among the immortals; those whose good deeds are fewer occupy a lower grade. In antiquity there were sages in heaven who, because their good deeds were not yet vast enough, were sent down into the human world to repay karmic debts accumulated in the past. Someone asked, “The human world is foul and wicked, and cultivation is hard—why, then, is merit easier to accumulate there? Heaven is pure, remote, and lofty, and life there is peaceful and happy—why, then, is the cultivation of merit slower?” The Yellow Emperor Xuanyuan long dwelt in heaven. Later, having resolved to practice goodness on a great scale, he descended into the human world: in the first life he was a commoner, in the second a minister, and in the third a ruler. He relieved the people and benefited living beings, and only after his merit was complete did he attain immortality and depart.

The underworld is much like the human world: each locality has its own jurisdiction. Whoever serves as a presiding official there is someone who possessed merit in life. In the early years of the Dading era, there was in Longzhou a man named Li Yuantong, born to a family of officials. Content in poverty and glad to cultivate the Dao, he one day declared that he had become the local earth god of Haoshan County. In Pinglu County of Xiezhou there was a Li Dehe, who had joined with others to form a Lingbao assembly, offering sacrifice to departed souls and doing works of good. One night he dreamed that a figure in blue-green robes descended from heaven, holding a celestial writ and reading it aloud, to tell him that he would be appointed earth god of Zhongtiao Mountain. Li Dehe said, “All my life I have loved the Dao and its methods, yet I have not become an immortal. Am I to be given only this post?” The immortal youth replied, “When your term of three years is complete, you will be promoted instead to serve as an immortal official of a blessed land.”

In Woyang County of Longzhou there was a Zhang the Third. After death he lived again, reborn as a son of the Zhai family in Wushan County. As soon as he could speak a little, he began to tell of the Zhang family’s past. The Zhangs then asked him to come home for a time. Seeing the old and the young of the household, he recognized every one of them without error, and he also pointed out the cellar where the Zhangs had buried money, a place that no one else had known. He said that in a former life he had been a small bird and had died by flying into a net; in the next life he was a dog and, greedy for bones, was killed by a woman with a knife; in the life after that he was a sheep and was slaughtered by the eldest son as an offering to the gods; and after that he was born as a son of the Zhai family. The Zhais were poor and the Zhangs were rich. The Zhais had once borrowed nine taels of silk from the Zhangs and later returned it, yet the debt was never struck from the account books. The Zhangs had him repay it once more, and so the old debt was settled.

In Cizhou there was a cultivator named Li Daoming, who once lodged in a hermitage in Zhuhao Village of Yishui County. When he had just left household life, he was dissolute and unrestrained, sunk in drink. One night he dreamed that someone escorted him under guard to an official court. In the courtyard stood several iron rods, each pierced by a hole and without a seam. One person knelt in front, and the judge ordered the officers to punish him with an iron rod. The officers then worked his head into a long, thin shape, just narrow enough to force it into the hole, and with their hands pressed the head round and large again so that he could not get free. Li Daoming knelt and begged piteously, saying that he was guilty of nothing. The judge rebuked him: “Since you have already taken up cultivation, why do you still give yourself to pleasure and drown yourself in wine?” He was then released. The moment he passed out the gate, he turned into a kite, a raptor of the hawk kind, and flew over the sea. Looking back, he said in grief, “Why must I be made into a bird like this?” The sea stretched without limit. He flew until he was utterly exhausted, dropped to the surface of the water, and woke with a start, his whole body covered in cold sweat.

From this it can be seen that a human being may be reborn as a creature of another kind, and a creature of another kind may be reborn as a human being. Some may, as Shen-consciousness, come to understand these changes, while the bodies of animals pass through them in the flesh. The scriptures say, “A human body is hard to obtain, and birth in the central lands is hard to gain; even if one is born in China, the true Dharma is hard to encounter.” One has already been born human, born in China, and has met the true Dharma—yet among tens of thousands there are still not one or two willing to take refuge in the Dao and its methods and look up to them with devotion. How much more is this so in distant foreign lands, where the transforming work of the Dao is hard to carry out.

The Perfected Hao Taigu (Hao Datong), a patriarch of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school of Daoism, said:

Once one has left the household life, one must set aside sorrow and distracting thoughts and learn to be content, for only then can one be constantly satisfied. Each day one needs only two sheng of grain—what use is there in storing it up? For the year, prepare a single suit of coarse cloth—beyond the body, what else is worth seeking? If one has leisure for a day, that day is as if one had become an immortal. The great Dao (the Way) is profound, far-reaching, and vast, and it leaves people without craving; when the mind and Shen (spirit) are settled, one can forget sorrow, dispel care, and know contentment and lasting joy.

Each day one needs only two sheng of grain—what use is there in storing it up? For the year, prepare a single suit of coarse cloth—beyond the body, what else is worth seeking? If one has leisure for a day, that day is as if one had become an immortal. The great Dao is profound, far-reaching, and vast, and it leaves people without craving; when the mind and Shen are settled, the Qi (vital energy) grows calm and even. The Dao is the source of the transformations of the myriad things, and it enables one to inquire into the principle by which Yin-Yang turns and returns.

The Dao does not keep far from people; it is people who keep far from the Dao. The sun and moon do not hurry in their courses; it is people who press and drive themselves. One should have a courageous and resolute will, and also be humble and lowly, empty of heart and self-possessed. Wandering in all directions is not as good as sitting alone in stillness and guarding the Dao; giving oneself over to carefree roaming is not as good as resting content in clarity, stillness, and plain simplicity. Eating one’s fill of rare delicacies is not as good as a single meal of coarse, plain food that fills the belly; a chest packed with splendid garments is not as good as coarse clothing that covers the body. Clinging to glory, splendor, and festive pleasures is not as good as dwelling in the world with detachment and holding to purity and stillness. Climbing a terrace in spring to enjoy the view is not as good as resting at ease in self-possession and preserving simplicity. Profiting by unrighteous wealth is not as good as being content in poverty and finding joy in oneself. A clever tongue skilled in debate is not as good as speaking little all day long; discoursing on the past and the present is not as good as guarding one’s original Qi and one’s original mind.

Learning many techniques and acquiring many skills is not as good as setting aside complicated learning and keeping to what is plain and solid. Constantly remembering old grievances is not as good as washing clean the thoughts of the mind and examining oneself so as to reform. The Qi of the Dao continues without cease; cultivating in accordance with it, one can attain the Dao and become an immortal. Once the principle has been grasped, one need not cling to words; when the Qi that goes out and comes in is fine, subtle, and prolonged, one can realize the wondrous principle of the Great Void (the vast, formless fundamental reality). It is like forgetting the bamboo fish basket once the fish has been caught, and no longer clinging to tools or to words. One must firmly tether the “horse of intention” (thoughts that race about without rest) and press down the “monkey of the mind” (the mind that is restless and ill at ease). Keep to plain simplicity, and the myriad things will fall into place of themselves; keep to the great Dao, and auspiciousness will arrive of its own accord.

He also said: In daily cultivation, refine Qi in times of quiet and refine Shen amid clamor; whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, the Dao may be cultivated in every circumstance. Through day and night one must remain awake, clear, and discerning, and auspiciousness will arrive of its own accord.

He also said: In daily cultivation, refine Qi in times of quiet and refine Shen amid clamor; whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, the Dao may be cultivated in every circumstance. Through both day and night, one must keep the mind and Shen from growing dull and obscure. If one sleeps for a stretch of time, that stretch of time amounts to having applied no effort; if each day one continues in practice and does not lapse into sleep and slackness, the work of a thousand days can be brought to completion. Do not lightly believe others who say that one possesses “innate bones” (a root capacity for cultivating the Dao with which one is born).

If one who cultivates perfection is unwilling to subdue the mind, then even after many years of having left the household there is still no genuine attainment, for original nature has not been clearly seen. If original nature has not been clearly seen, how can life be cultivated and refined? If nature and life cannot both be brought to completion, how can one become an immortal and attain the Dao (the Way)? This happens because there is illness in the mind.

The first illness of the mind is this: seeing that others understand the principles of nature and life, one also wishes to study, yet one will not set aside empty fame and fleeting profit, nor inquire with humility; when others are unwilling to transmit the teaching, resentment and slander arise.

The second illness of the mind is this: seeing that others have favorable conditions, one does not reflect on why one oneself lacks them, nor can one teach and transform others toward goodness; instead, evil thoughts arise and harm others’ affinity with the Dao.

The third illness of the mind is this: seeing others read the Jing (scripture/classic) while oneself does not understand, one gives rise to slander. Such a person will never gain great wisdom, nor have any way to open the celestial eye and clearly behold the truth.

The fourth illness of the mind is this: when the time and the conditions are not yet ripe, one forcibly launches activities, draws the crowd into motion, and disturbs others. This is not proper conduct.

The fifth illness of the mind is this: the heart does not know contentment, and the mind and Shen (spirit) are thereby thrown into disorder. This is the fault that comes of not knowing sufficiency.

Remove these five illnesses of the mind, humbly seek out teachers, and ask for instruction, and the true Dao will surely be obtained. If great stillness cannot yet be achieved, first keep carefully to your own station; if the great principles are not yet understood, constantly read the teachings of the Jing; if others cannot yet be transformed, you should only guard stillness. Even with a slight good condition, do not forget to cultivate nature and nourish life. One who can practice in this way, advancing diligently in cultivation of the Dao, will in the end become a sage. One who cannot cultivate accordingly will surely fall into Fengdu (the underworld of Daoist legend), lose the chance of obtaining a human body again, and even be reborn among the six domestic animals that wear fur and bear horns. When will your nine mysterious ancestors and seven forebears (ancestors of nine generations and of seven generations) be able to ascend? It will be because you have ruined your practice of the Dao.

The words of the Seven Perfected and the Five Patriarchs, the ancestral masters revered by the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school of Daoism, all set forth the essentials of cultivating nature and life. Later students, however, often chase minor arts and heterodox shortcuts. Some deliberately circulate Qi (vital energy); some count the breaths in order to forget thoughts; some transport water and fire; some investigate the art of the coupling of dragon and tiger. Methods of this kind are too many to recount, and the result is that the Quanzhen principle transmitted by the patriarchs sinks into obscurity and is no longer manifest.

This teaching takes penetrating understanding as its basis, the clear seeing of original nature as its root, the nurturing and preservation of life as its function, humility and harmony as its De (Virtue/Power), humble yielding as its practice, and keeping to one’s proper station as its work of cultivation. After long accumulation, inner light naturally shines forth, true Qi is abundant and harmoniously blended, body and spirit both reach a subtle and wondrous realm, and at last one unites with the Dao and merges with the True. Nowadays some who study the Dao always carry in the mind right and wrong, benefit and harm, liking and disliking, and craving. Their temperament therefore cannot settle, and their breath cannot be harmonized, so they naturally lose the Dao and drift away. Such people wear the crane cloak (the garment of the Daoist priest) in vain, and only defile the teaching.

When they see people of high insight, they are jealous in every way; when they see those older or younger, they deceive them at every turn. At the slightest small profit they rack their brains to seize it; when someone asks about the great Dao, they pretend to be deaf and mute. Their minds are cunning and deceitful, fawning and arrogant. They should not have left the household, yet they vainly dream of becoming immortals. Unwilling to subdue the inner mind, they indulge the emotions and dispositions of the moment, and have already become evildoers. Ignorant of the meaning of the Jing, they call an ox a horse; not understanding principle, they call black white.

The teacher opened the gate of the teaching in the hope that everyone might cultivate immortality. Now, as I look over the disciples throughout, I find that many have committed all kinds of evil karma and spread absurd talk. Some invent stories of entering dreams and of the spirit going forth; in the name of cultivating the Dao they run practice halls, record the names of teachers and their households, and lead crowds of ignorant women and foolish men, speaking nonsense and deceiving others. They close their eyes and seal their mouths, pretending to devote themselves wholly to the work of the Dao, and so mislead those in charge. They think themselves clever and force an understanding; they can only argue over right and wrong, yet they understand neither guilt nor blessing, nor are they willing to cultivate the Dao in earnest, letting a stubborn mind do evil. When in time to come the offices of the underworld investigate karmic retribution, onto whom can the blame be shifted? Do not dislike these words for grating on the ear; they are good medicine for practice.

One who wishes to enter this teaching must first cultivate the mind. When the mind does not chase outward, Shen is naturally settled and Qi is naturally harmonized. Once Shen and Qi are harmonized, the three fields naturally coalesce—the upper, middle, and lower Dantian (energy center)—and then the auspicious herb grows of itself. If cultivation is to reach completion, it must be practiced with diligence and caution. Accumulating hidden virtue can move the unseen realm; accumulating manifest virtue can move the people of the world. When hidden virtue and manifest virtue are both complete, the fruit of the Dao can be realized.

Among the immortals of earlier generations are Immortal Li, Immortal Wang of Xianyang, Immortal Li of Longxi, Immortal Wang of Chengdu, Immortal Zhao of Xiangzhou, Immortal Ma of Tengzhou, the Old Immortal of Xuzhou, and many others, all persons of outstanding quality. After entering the Dao, they were humble and self-restrained, arduous and steadfast. They served their teachers as they would serve divine beings, and respected their companions as they would receive guests. Their speech was not frivolous, and their conduct was not fawning. They carefully kept their teachers’ instructions and carried out the methods of the teaching for twenty or thirty years, until they thoroughly awakened to the great Dao, cast off the ordinary form, and became immortals, models for the teaching. Is this not worthy of reverence?

Those who study the Dao today, however, neither honor their teachers and elders nor respect their fellow cultivators. Seeing the worthy and capable, they give rise to hatred; seeing the foolish, they instead make sport of them and treat them lightly. They do not learn good conduct, but wish only to contend for victory. While alive, such people are demonic obstacles within the teaching; after death they become seeds of hell. Whether horns grow or not, whether tails grow or not, none escape evil retribution. The nine mysterious ancestors and seven forebears will also suffer because of this, undergoing the hell punishments of freezing ice, boiling broth, sword-trees, and mountains of knives, and passing through a thousand births and ten thousand deaths. Do not wait until the hour of death to regret.

Here ends the upper volume of the Zhenxian Zhizhi Yulu.

Zhenxian Zhizhi Yulu, Lower Volume

Compiled by Xuanquanzi, the Daoist of Sea, Heaven, and Autumn Moon

Recorded Sayings of the Perfected Yin Qinghe

Those who have left the household life ought constantly to examine their own minds, and each day to see how many evil thoughts have arisen. Wine, sex, wealth, and anger are of course desires; yet whatever one has long been fond of may also become a craving. If one is fond of something, one should find a way to set it down. The mind’s thoughts will then be easier to subdue of themselves and will gradually settle.

People all say that attaining the Dao (the Way) is difficult. If a practitioner can turn their own thoughts around and make the mind clear and lucid, cultivation is in fact much easier. When no agitation arises in the mind, and one is not pulled about by right and wrong or by the distinction between self and others, the merit of practice can be accomplished quickly. What is called “youwei” means applying oneself diligently within the tradition; what is called Wuwei (non-action) means cutting off every entanglement and holding no attachment in the mind. If one can work on the mind at every moment, one will receive the protection of the sages and worthies.

Those without merit and practice will not be looked after by the sages and worthies either. When the sages and worthies tell someone to dwell in a place suited to quiet cultivation, it is because that person does not dare to practice amid disturbance. If they tell someone to dwell amid activity, it is because that person cannot abide in stillness. If one gives no thought to the future of one’s practice and merely passes the days without aim, cultivation will gradually fall into neglect.

Even a single needle or a single blade of grass lies within the protection of the sages and worthies. For those who cultivate mind and nature, clothing and food can often come of themselves, without bitter seeking; the sages and worthies arrange support in secret. Once one has become a practitioner, one must truly apply oneself. The sages and worthies will not let those who cultivate with a sincere heart go astray.

It is further said: For anyone who already has a name and standing—reputation or rank—even a single needle or a single blade of grass lies within the protection of the sages and worthies. For those who cultivate mind and nature, clothing and food can come of themselves, without bitter seeking; the sages and worthies arrange support in secret. Once one has become a practitioner, one must truly apply oneself. The sages and worthies will not let those who cultivate with a sincere heart go astray.

It is also said: Whenever one clings to names and appearances (the names and outward forms of things), the mind will have its movement and its stillness; once sensations of seeing and hearing arise, there will be times of ease and times of obstruction. Someone asked, “A bare blade is already pressed against one’s head, yet one feels no alarm and the mind does not stir. If one can bear this, is that the courage of a sage?” The reply was: “If the mind still takes this to be an affliction, it is as though one were already dead. If one merely goes on in fear or in delight, one should know that this is a debt of grievance left from a previous life, and that it must be repaid.”

It is also said: The sages from ancient times onward have all been tempered in poverty and hardship; they were not born to wealth and rank. When ordinary people study the Dao (the Way) in poverty, it is easy to subdue the mind and refine away the demons of the heart. When the wealthy and high-born study the Dao, they tend to be heavy with sensual desire and strong in the urge to contend and prevail; even ten thousand taels of gold are easily squandered. If the mind can remain unshaken—without craving, without infatuation, without clinging—one can subdue the mind and refine away the demons of the heart; if one cannot, these obstacles cannot be removed. Most people indulge themselves when fortune favors them and grow anxious and unsettled when it fails them; if one can regard both favor and disappointment as equal, one is truly a person whose mind is open and penetrating.

It is also said: When Master Yuyang, a patriarch of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection), presided over the affairs of the teaching, someone asked him for the oral formula of cultivation. The master said, “To practice the ten thousand kinds of good deeds is the true formula; concentrate Jing (essence) and Shen (spirit), bring Qi (vital energy) back into unity, and break open the three passes (the bodily gateways spoken of in cultivation).” By the time the Perfected Changchun, also a patriarch of Quanzhen, presided over the affairs of the teaching, the method of instruction had changed somewhat. He said that if one wishes to transmit the Dao, one need only accumulate hidden virtue outwardly (doing good in secret) and hold firmly to Jing and Shen inwardly—what more is there to say?

It is also said: When a cultivator reaches this stage, the Dao (the Way) may be attained while walking, and it may also be attained while sitting in stillness; whether one sits quietly or rises and moves about, one’s progress in the Dao can be brought to completion. If one wishes to accumulate blessings, one need only keep a good heart at all times, and blessings and virtue will naturally be easy to gather; when blessings and virtue run deep, the Dao will of itself respond. To provide for others accords with the Dao; to take burdens upon oneself and labor diligently also accords with the Dao; to put others before oneself, to be willing to suffer oneself in order to help others, and to keep far from passion and desire—all of these likewise accord with the Dao. So long as one constantly holds a good heart, whatever one does will be in harmony with the Dao. It is only that people are often unwilling to practice in this way; the moment circumstances stir them, the good heart is clouded over—how, then, can they obtain a response from the Dao?

It is also said: Master Danyang once taught that the offense of killing a hundred oxen still falls short of the offense of killing a single person, and that harming a hundred people is not as grave as the offense of wrongly accusing a single cultivator.

It is also said: Everyone wishes to hear me expound the mysterious and subtle principle, yet that principle cannot be made clear through words; one must realize it for oneself. Even if one has understood it upon hearing, it is of no use if one does not put it into practice. Cultivators often cannot complete the path in a single lifetime; those who attain the Dao have all accumulated merit in past lives. So long as a cultivator follows the master’s teaching and his plain recorded sayings and cultivates in a solid, practical way, one will not go astray. Diligent labor, receiving and attending to others, subduing one’s own mind, casting off passion and desire, and studying the scriptures (Jing) all belong to the merit of cultivation; whatever is beneficial, once carried out, can accumulate merit and practice. Yet if the merit and practice of this life are not yet complete, sages and worthies will still offer guidance in the next life or in lives thereafter. Master Danyang and the Patriarch once kept company over three lifetimes and cultivated through ten lifetimes; each time they came into the world, they encountered the orthodox teaching and awoke to its principle. Only after merit and cultivation have been accumulated over many lifetimes is it possible to understand the principle thoroughly in the present life. The other masters were likewise so.

It is also said: For the cultivator, what matters most in doing anything is to take it on willingly and to act in accord with principle; only then is there meritorious practice—the good deeds and virtue accumulated through cultivating the Dao (the Way). One need only accumulate such merit, without keeping it constantly in mind; sages and worthies record it for you in secret. So long as one does what is beneficial, one is naturally accumulating merit. In the end all of it returns to oneself, and there is no need to pick it out deliberately; even if one does not know of it, the merit has already been laid up. If one is unwilling to take things on, how can there be any merit?

If the cultivator harbors the deluded thought of deliberately seeking merit, merit is on the contrary hard to obtain; it is often gained naturally when one does not seek it. So long as one sets one’s heart on doing what is beneficial, merit arises of itself. Sages and worthies record it in secret; one cannot see the record, yet there is no error.

Even in everyday labor, one should at every moment grasp the principle and not go about the work in a muddle; in this way, too, merit can be accumulated. If one contends over some small thing and then over another, until anger rises, temper flares, and one goes on arguing right and wrong—how can there be any merit in that?

If the cultivator can restrain the self and benefit others, leaving what is good for others to use and taking what is poor upon oneself, and if, when meeting what is toilsome, heavy, and difficult, one undertakes it first, then the merit is greatest, and this most fully shows a mind that possesses the Dao. Everyone says the Dao should be transmitted, yet the Dao is not in its nature something that can be passed on. To speak of transmitting the Dao is only to set oneself up as someone unlike ordinary people; and those who come to study appear just as strange.

It is further said: Among the myriad things, only human beings are the most spiritually aware and the most exalted, yet they also pass through birth and death times without number. When the eyes see an object, if there is no sovereign within the mind, the mind-nature clings to the external thing and a thought arises upon that object—this is called “birth.” When the ears hear a sound, the mind-nature follows the sound; a thought arises upon the sound, and the previous thought about the object disappears—this is called “extinction.” When the nose smells a fragrance, the mind-nature again clings to the fragrance; a thought arises upon the fragrance, and the previous thought about the sound immediately disappears. When the tongue tastes a flavor, the mind-nature again clings to the sweet taste; a thought arises upon the flavor, and the previous thought about the fragrance disappears. When the body covets splendid clothing, a thought arises upon the clothing, and the previous thought about flavor vanishes with it. When the mind delights in deliberation, a thought again arises upon that deliberation, and the previous thought about the clothing disappears. Each time a thought arises, it counts as one “birth”; each time a thought is cut off, it counts as one “extinction.” If, throughout the twelve double-hours of a day, there is no work of cultivation, a person’s thoughts become a tangled swarm of a thousand threads—and this is birth and extinction without number.

If one wishes to transcend birth and extinction, one need only, at the moment a thought arises, first apply “awakened illumination” (observing the inner mind with lucid awareness). When one observes and sees through that every external condition is false, the realm of external things cannot stain or take hold of oneself. If one persists in the practice for a long time, even awakened illumination is let go, and the mind naturally becomes pure and still; from purity and stillness arises Wuwei (non-action), and through Wuwei one naturally accords with the great Dao (the Way).

It is further said: The Master, Changchun Zhenren—Qiu Chuji, founding patriarch of the Daoist Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school—traveled about from place to place, cultivating with arduous effort and subduing the demons of the mind, fearful only that his practice might come to nothing. He once carried stones back and forth on the mountain in order to temper himself and overcome drowsiness. Because his share of blessing was meager, his mind and Shen (spirit) could not settle. Later he met with two ordeals that nearly cost him his life: once he nearly died while struggling; once a flying stone broke three of his ribs, and he again nearly lost his life. After that he repeatedly suffered the trials of illness, and three times fell and broke an arm. Faced with every kind of demonic obstruction, he never wavered; on the contrary, he grew still more resolute and assiduous. When a practitioner has aspiration, ordeals follow in its wake; without aspiration, there are no such ordeals. Each ordeal one passes through adds one measure of blessing; each demonic obstruction one undergoes makes the state of mind one degree clearer, and the spiritual nature likewise grows by one degree.

It is also said: In Shandong there was a Master Zhang who sat in quiet meditation within the ring (huanzhong) and cultivated for several years. Once, while sitting in stillness, he saw a stalk of hemp straw fall before him and looked up; this happened three times and five times, yet he paid it no attention. Suddenly one day a person dropped down from the ceiling canopy—the ceiling beneath the roof of the room—stood before him, and let out a long sigh. Master Zhang suspected that this was his own “body outside the body” (another body that appears in the course of cultivation). He therefore left the ring and went straight to call on Master Changchun to ask about the doubt in his mind. After paying his respects, he knelt before the master and was just about to describe the visions he had met with in the ring when the master, who already knew, said: “When a practitioner is applying effort, nothing that the eyes see can be taken as real. To see one’s master is not real; to see Buddhas, spirits, ghosts, people, dragons, or tigers is not real either; and the stars in the sky and the birds and beasts on the earth should likewise not be taken as real.” Master Zhang remained doubtful and was convinced that what he had seen was the body outside the body.

He went on to ask Master Changsheng, recounting what he had seen before. Master Changsheng asked: “If you ponder the words of Brother Qiu (Qiu Chuji), you will understand. Even when all manner of visions arise for a practitioner, the moment the mind covets and clings to them, one has stepped onto a deviant path. Face every vision without becoming stained by it or clinging to it; when the work has matured, the Dao (the Way) will manifest of itself, and you need doubt no longer.” Master Zhang then bowed and offered his thanks.

It is also said: All those who have left the household wish to seek out what is mysterious and wondrous, yet they cannot rush about making inquiries everywhere every day. One should let one’s disposition become sincere and plain, and not deliberately refine or seek after anything; when the work has matured, the Dao will manifest of itself, and there will be no further need for doubt. Master Zhang bowed and offered his thanks.

It is further said: All who have left the household must seek out the profound and mysterious—that is, inquire into the principles of the profound and mysterious—yet if each day one merely searches for a single mysterious method, this will not do. One must make one’s temperament sincere, honest, and plain, and refine away the demonic obstructions in the mind; only this is truly subtle.

If a single thought arises, one must become aware of that thought and maintain awareness thought after thought; only when no deluded thoughts arise in the mind is this subtle. What others love, one does not crave—this is subtle. What others hear, one does not echo in agreement—this is subtle. When others discuss the rise and fall of past and present, one does not join in the discussion—this is subtle. Not speaking of right and wrong or of strengths and faults; not contending with others over who is right and who is wrong; not competing for fame and profit; bearing hardship oneself while benefiting others; not violating the precepts against wine, lust, wealth, and anger; and forgetting sorrow and anxious thought—all of these are points of subtlety. When the moment comes to speak worldly words, one does not speak them. One does not give rise to a mind of clinging and attachment. One forever cuts off the thoughts that provoke anger, and severs the mind of greedy grasping, boastful talk, and restless agitation. Whatever circumstances one formerly loved, one turns away from them and does not fall into them again—only this is subtle.

If one can practice in this way, this is to be subtle, mysterious, and profoundly penetrating—to penetrate the mystery and reach the subtle—and one can thereby commune with Heaven and Earth and move the sages and worthies. When Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) are peaceful and harmonious, one is a person who has attained the Dao (the Way). Apart from this, what other subtlety could there be? If one can walk according to this profound and mysterious Dao, what need is there to go seeking elsewhere? People always imagine that some further mystery still remains, and so they wish to cultivate themselves into immortals. If that were truly so, then these masters, while with the patriarchs, would only have needed to transmit a mysterious method, and people would attain the Dao—why, then, endure every hardship, refine and subdue the demonic obstructions in the mind, and spend twelve years accumulating merit and practice? Since one has chosen to cultivate, one must practice it in earnest and in concrete fact; only then can cultivation reach completion.

It is also said: Those who leave the household to cultivate the Dao (the Way) should simply press forward in their practice and not give rise to doubt; once doubt enters the mind, progress is hard to make. Some, after leaving home for ten years or for five, have sat in quiet meditation, risen to move about, received visitors, begged from door to door, practiced the refinement of sleep, and cultivated while dwelling in the mountains—they have done all these things—yet, seeing no results, they grow inclined to withdraw, asking themselves, “How is this any different from ordinary people?” This is a mind of doubt; how can one still advance? Even if there is no verifying response, one must concentrate and go forward, neither slackening nor shrinking back, until old age and the end of life, exerting heart and strength to the utmost. Wherever it is fitting to accumulate blessings and form affinities, do so; at all times restrain body and mind, and in secret store up merit and good deeds, and one will naturally receive the support of sages and worthies.

It is also said: The three poisons are greed, anger, and delusion, all born of human desire. The three desires are the desire for food, the desire for sleep, and sexual desire. When the three desires grow too strong, the six thieves will injure body and mind. The Jing (scriptures) say: “The deviant thoughts arising from the nine orifices have their crux in three places.” What in turn stirs and pulls at the bodily form and the bones is likewise the three corpses and the six thieves. Having become a person of the Dao, one must find ways to turn back and restrain these three desires; once the three desires have been transformed, the six thieves and the three corpses are readily subdued. Without a firm and resolute will they are hard to cut off, so one must exert force to restrain them at the root.

It is also said: All purposeful operations, climatic changes, and expositions of the various methods of practice are merely means to rely upon. Whatever one has learned may be set aside; only written texts cannot be set aside. Written texts serve only to illuminate the path of cultivating the Dao, and they also bear upon what lies in the human mind…

It is also said that all deliberate cultivation, all circulation of seasonal Qi (vital energy), and all explanation of the various methods of practice are merely expedient means. What one has learned may be set aside; only the Jing (scripture/classic) cannot be lightly discarded. The Jing merely points out the road. When the mind is not yet clear, it is as if heaven and earth were dark and one could not walk at night, and so had to rely on lamps and candles; once heaven and earth grow bright, one lifts one’s eyes and can go straight ahead.

The Jing is the road; it opens a road for people. When the mind has already awakened, the Jing is no longer needed. To cling to the Jing is wrong, and one must not cling to any of the affairs of the teaching either. So long as there is clinging, the Dao (the Way) cannot be reached.

Those who cultivate today are full of doubts; their resolve is not single-minded, and all sorts of misgivings arise in the heart, which shows that their share of blessing is shallow. To resolve upon cultivation yet fail to awaken to the Dao looks the same as never having resolved at all: both suffer in vain. Still, one who has set a resolve has a beginning and an end, and still has a chance to awaken again; one who has set no resolve has no beginning, and so cannot turn back. People wish only to inquire into the mysterious, yet they do not examine how to enter that mystery or where to begin—how, then, can they truly enter? One must be strict with oneself, help others, remain humble and gentle, and gradually form the habit of cultivation.

It is also said that those who live and cultivate in a Daoist abbey may themselves pass their days at ease only if they can support some ten or twenty people; if they cannot even provide for the community, they can hardly feel worthy of the food they themselves eat. If one is unwilling to seek, little by little, where the way is hard, and instead only eats one’s fill where things ripen easily and are easily obtained; and if, moreover, one does not gather in the mind, but drifts about in groups at will and idles away the time, nothing will come of it. Such leisure is truly hard to accept. No one in the world dares to be truly idle; one must apply the mind with care and see each day through. To cultivate day and night without ceasing—one must still walk this path; to live at leisure while receiving the support of others is no small responsibility.

It is further said: Those who cultivate the Dao (the Way) should hold a mind of equality. If the heart still harbors partiality, feelings of being favored or humiliated, and also desire, then one rejoices when things follow one’s wishes and grows angry when they go against them. To reach the state of no-mind, there must still be a governing master within the heart; without such a master, one loses awareness and, without realizing it, falls into some other condition. Everyone wishes to attain the Dao. You may look carefully through the twelve double-hours—the ancients divided a day and night into twelve periods—and ask whether your mind can remain settled throughout. In what you do, do not deceive your own conscience; not to deceive oneself is to be one who cultivates the Dao.

The great Dao is easy to understand, yet hard to practice. Do not give up at the first fear of difficulty. You must work inwardly and set aside all worldly affairs. Nowadays some Daoists who beg for alms do not have pure hearts, yet they are forever discussing right and wrong; others, having read a few scriptures (Jing), merely talk emptily of “no-mind.” Such people do not receive the protection of the sages and worthies. Once they meet a test of circumstance, they soon cannot cope, and may even go mad, fall ill, and die. This is mostly because their store of blessings is insufficient. If one can form good affinities, support the teaching according to one’s capacity, and accumulate blessings and De (Virtue/Power), the sages and worthies will assist and raise one up.

It is further said: In former times, the various masters differed in the timing and experience of their attainment of the Dao. Master Ma and Master Tan both attained the Dao halfway along the road, while Master Liu attained the Dao in a goulan, a place of performance. People often say that to attain the Dao is to penetrate heaven and earth completely, yet there remain places not yet penetrated. This is because merit and De, and cultivation, are not the same, and the level at which each person stands also differs. With each heaven one ascends, one sees a deeper layer of the realm; those places one has not yet seen and cannot yet understand still require the sages and worthies to assist and raise one up.

It is further said: Even when one has already penetrated heaven and earth, there remain places not yet penetrated, because merit and De, and cultivation, differ, and each has its own level. With each heaven one ascends, one sees a deeper layer of the realm, and the sages and worthies assist and raise up the practitioner.

It is further said: Daoists today live in comfortable hermitages and temples, guide their disciples in cultivating the Dao (the Way), and also accept the offerings of others. If one regards these as blessings, such blessings will in the end be exhausted. A pure and clear mind, and a heart at peace, are the pure blessing that is never used up. Even a brief moment of leisure is an endless pure blessing.

One should take ordinary daily labor as a great discipline within cultivation, and one should also strive to subdue one’s own mind; yet one must not, on that account, take busy toil itself as the whole of cultivation. Each day, after the miscellaneous tasks are finished, find a quiet place, sit down, and apply effort to the mind. Even if this cannot yet be done for a time, with long persistence the mind will gradually grow calm and at ease. But who nowadays is willing to subdue their own mind? Most people simply indulge their intentions as they go about their affairs. When others slander, rebuke, or even strike and scold one, all of this may be regarded as blessings sent one’s way; when others praise and elevate one, however, it is easy to grow greedy for blessings.

The scripture (jing) says: “To know that emptiness is not utter nothingness, and to know that form is not a solid, unchanging reality—this is called clear discernment and thorough understanding.” This is the Yang aspect. So long as the mind is settled, whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, one may be practicing the Dao. If the mind is settled, to act is acceptable and not to act is also acceptable; if the mind is not settled, then neither acting nor refraining from action is fitting.

It is further said: The Scripture of Clarity and Stillness (Qingjing Jing) is the essential and wondrous method of cultivation. If one tries to understand it through concrete forms and appearances, one cannot grasp it; if one tries to understand it through deliberate action, one likewise cannot grasp it. Only by realizing it from the standpoint of formlessness and the absence of appearance can one enter into it.

It is further said: The Scripture of Clarity and Stillness is the essential and wondrous method of cultivation. If one tries to understand it through concrete forms and appearances, one cannot grasp it; if one tries to understand it through deliberate action, one likewise cannot grasp it. Only by realizing it from the standpoint of formlessness and the absence of appearance can one enter into it. The realm that language cannot reach is the great Dao, and this belongs to the highest level of cultivation. “No-mind” is the most important step; if one clings to setting thought against thought, one will only labor in vain. Deliberately restraining the thoughts by some method belongs to the ways of purposeful action; governing the state and cultivating oneself by means of the Dao is the Way of Wuwei (non-action).

It is also said: A practitioner does not covet good food and fine clothing, nor grow angry over matters of marriage and karmic ties; this is accumulating blessing. If one covets enjoyment, and often flares up in anger, argues over right and wrong, and stirs people’s minds, one is dissipating one’s store of blessing. If one brings out one’s own money and goods to help others, so that they love and gratefully remember one, one’s blessing increases; when blessing is deep and ample, life is secure, peaceful, and smooth.

A person’s three desires are the desire for food, the desire for sleep, and sexual desire, and of these the desire for food is fundamental. Eat until too full, and one easily grows dull and fond of sleep, and sexual desire also readily arises. If, in eating, one takes only two or three tenths of a full meal, breath and body will naturally become free and easy. When I was in Dongzhou, in my youth I had three hundred masters and fellow practitioners about me; later, meeting obstruction from the authorities, only three remained. As for the young people of today, most are single-minded in resolve and hold fast without retreat; all of them are people of blessing.

The scripture further says: The mind is the root, and dharma is dust and stain; the two are like grime on a mirror. Only when the dust and stain are entirely removed does the brightness of the mirror appear; when mind and dharma awaken to one another, one is a True Person (zhenren).

Some think that only quiet sitting counts as cultivating the Dao (the Way). In fact, even if the body is seated while the mind is pulled about by external things, this still cannot count as truly cultivating the Way. Even busying oneself with labor and the conduct of affairs is not as good as letting the mind settle. Whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, one can cultivate the Way; what matters is that the mind does not waver.

People of the world are like a vessel: it has two ears and a mouth, and for the time being one puts it to use; if one day the vessel is broken, then placed in a furnace and melted into molten gold, and a craftsman recasts it as a vessel according to a mold, how can one still say that it is the original vessel? Human beings are the same. Once one has died, to hope for a human body again in a life to come is truly difficult. If one cannot subdue one’s own mind, then even while keeping a vegetarian fast one cannot bear the offerings one receives; if the mind-ground is clear and bright, thought is quiet, and one is unmoved by external things, then even in accepting the offerings of all people under heaven, one can bear them.

Master Changchun further said: Cultivation is difficult. If one cannot subdue one’s own mind, then even while keeping a vegetarian fast one cannot bear the offerings; if one can keep the mind-ground clear and bright, thought quiet, and remain unmoved by external things, then even in accepting the offerings of all people under heaven, one can bear them.

Master Changchun said: Looking at those masters, whose blessings, wisdom, and appearance all surpassed mine, I resolved to spend three years cultivating mind and nature, until my heart was like cooled ashes. I also made a vow of ten years, yet the more I tried to sort out the stray thoughts in my mind, the more they multiplied. Knowing that my own blessings were meager, I exerted myself all the more: I put on a pair of hemp shoes, tying the laces and then untying them, untying them and tying them tight again, and every night I walked back and forth seventeen or eighteen times, not letting mind and spirit (Shen) sink into dullness. Practicing in this way until the fiftieth day, I could remain unmoved by external things, the true mind constantly bright, clear and transparent as a crystal tower. Later, one day, I regressed and stray thoughts arose again. My master wept at this, judging that my blessings were meager after all.

Later, the military commander of Chang’an invited the master to a zhai offering (a ritual of providing food and drink to support Daoist priests). That night the master went missing three times. Knowing his own blessings to be meager, he feared he would find it hard to attain the Dao (the Way). In the course of cultivation he encountered heavenly demons and the great demons of the Five Emperors (the demonic obstacles of which Daoism speaks). A flying stone broke three of his ribs, yet his mind remained unmoved. Later he cultivated to the realm of sages and worthies, and heard someone in the air say, “You will attain the Dao on the fifteenth day of the second month.” By the morning of the eleventh, he could already penetrate heaven and earth, and viewing the mountains and rivers of heaven and earth was as clear as looking at the palm of his own hand.

He also said: I once reckoned that, within the twelve double-hours (shichen) of a day, I first required myself to remain free of drowsiness for eight double-hours, and later raised this to nine. The remaining two double-hours also had to be endured; I dared not indulge myself. Even if a slight drowsiness came on, I could only barely get through day and night. After that, for seven or eight days in a row I did not close my eyes, and ate only two or three tenths of my usual amount of food. In cultivation, although one must restrain sleep, one must also cultivate mind and nature; if the mind is not cultivated, there will in the end be no result. Master Ma said, “Indulge even slightly, and the divine elixir will be exposed; relax even a little, and the jade nature will wither.”

It is further said: Master Ma taught that immortals are of four ranks—ghost immortals, human immortals, earthly immortals, and divine immortals—and that all of them possess affinities accumulated in former lives. After a practitioner dies, they may dwell among the Ten Continents and Three Islands (the legendary mountains of the immortals) or in the grotto-residences of famous mountains, and are placed according to the merit of their cultivation. Those of great merit rise to become celestial officials; those of lesser merit may, after five or six hundred years, or after two or three thousand years, return to the human world to go on accumulating merit and cultivating. Even one without merit, so long as the mind is single-mindedly pure and still, will in the end have a place of return. Almsgiving and offerings, forming connections and creating blessings, are merits of intentional action; they can bring blessed rewards in the human world or in the heavens, yet one still turns within the cycle of rebirth.

It is further said: Some practitioners claim that the world has no retribution of wrongdoing and blessing. Only when, throughout the twelve double-hours (the whole day, one full day and night), no worldly distracting thoughts arise can one reach the state of being without wrongdoing and without blessing. In cultivation, even a slight good deed must not be clung to and accumulated on that account; even if one regards oneself as having done nothing, the moment the mind is touched by the least worldly affair, it should be quickly cleared away. When the mind does not stir falsely, Shen (spirit) and awareness grow calm; when Shen and awareness are calm, the breath becomes harmonious. If Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) are not leaked for three years, the elixir of the lower Dantian (energy center) can coalesce; if they are not leaked for six years, the elixir of the middle Dantian can coalesce; if they are not leaked for nine years, the great elixir can coalesce. Yet all this also depends on each person’s allotted blessings; without such blessings, attainment is hard to achieve.

The Perfected Person said: “When I was still at home at the beginning, I saw all kinds of faults among people in the world. What a practitioner most must guard against is seeing the faults of others and, instead of taking them as a reminder to oneself, being led astray by them as well. Every affair in the world has its causes, conditions, and fixed measure, so one must set them down one by one. Some people go too far; others fall short. The clever often let their thoughts run unchecked and find it hard to settle; they can gather in mind and spirit, conceal their edge, and abide in stillness. The simple and plain often cling too readily; one can guide them so that they turn and change.

The work of cultivation must above all be applied to sitting steadily and guarding stillness. In former times, Master Zuohuan, through all twelve double-hours of the day, dared not indulge himself, restraining himself as cautiously as a prisoner. When others spoke, he himself did not speak; when others discussed right and wrong, he did not join them in judging; when others looked at things, he sat calm and still and did not let his mind be moved along with them. Every habitual tendency must be broken one by one; this is the most wondrous method of cultivation. Even if one obtains only a little of a provisionally borrowed state of no-mind, it surpasses harboring a discriminating mind. To study the Dao (the Way) is to cultivate the true by means of removing the false and illusory; to refine true nature is to temper emptiness and stillness within emptiness and stillness. In the end one returns to the source and comes to rest in one place, clear and free like the bright moon and the pure breeze.

He also said: “When one knows the ways of the world deeply, one grows reluctant to open one’s mouth; having seen through the many affairs of human life, one merely nods when others speak. If one does not even nod, there is still less vexation and sorrow.”

He also said: “The master silently recites the Jing (scripture) and does not blow the fire, for fear of injuring his spirit; when paying reverence to the holy perfected, he strives to stand in the lower place to the southwest; when sitting, he likewise strives for the lower, easier seat—all of these he is able to follow. Yet the moment he is offended, anger immediately arises and he cries out; acting in this way cannot preserve spirit and vital strength.” Here, “blowing the fire” means blowing the flame with the mouth, and “attending the holy” means paying reverence to the holy perfected.

Those who cultivate, if they neither support their parents nor give their efforts to the state, are people of no use, vainly consuming what is useful between Heaven and Earth. Yet one must not on this account conclude that wearing coarse cloth, living by begging leftover food, and making use of what the world regards as useless means that one cannot cultivate the Dao (the Way), or that one is free of karmic offense.

If one accepts the support of others yet fails to attain the Dao, one ought to repay this debt of kindness. If, like a person whose strength is exhausted, one is already unable to repay it, then the one who gave help may be reckoned to have accumulated a measure of merit, and the cultivator should not let this stir the mind. Hold fast to the mind of the Dao for three years, and the sages and worthies will of themselves all know. If a cultivator can keep the mind free of stray thoughts, the days pass easily, and merit and practice will accumulate.

People often think of bustle when they are in quiet, and think of quiet when they are amid bustle. In those days I went the whole day without speaking, and others took me for arrogant. Those who single-mindedly pursue wealth and rank and contend with others for fame and gain are the ones who are truly arrogant. I spoke little all day long, guarded the mind of the Dao, and kept my inner heart clear and still, like Bo Yi, Shu Qi, Xu You, and Chao Fu; even without achievements or results in cultivation, it would not matter. I was wholeheartedly content in pure poverty, because the affairs of the teaching are of great consequence.

Those who cultivate must restrain sleep. If one can set aside concern for external things, is not attached to affairs, and reduces one’s food, the mind grows light; one naturally sleeps less, and it is easier to persist in practice. An occasional spell of drowsiness does not hinder cultivation.

If one clings greedily to every kind of thing, still wants to eat well, and does not reduce one’s portions, then upon lying down one thinks now of this and now of that; even forcing oneself to sit brings no benefit. If one takes not sleeping as a firm resolve and persists in it, progress may come. Some people mock, saying, “What are you doing sitting there? This is only making a show of mystery.” They themselves cannot progress, because they lack a mind that seeks the Dao.

The ancients said that birds bring death upon themselves because their feathers are beautiful, and turtles are hunted and killed because their shells are numinous and extraordinary. Better to be something plain and useless, and to pass one’s life in peace and safety.

They also said that when an infant is first born, it receives a little luminous Qi (vital energy). At the outset it has no thoughts of sin or blessing, nor any discriminating mind of joy and anger, favor and disgrace, or distinguishing right from wrong. Later, taught by its elders, it learns to contend for superiority, to rise by stepping on others, and to reckon right and wrong and self and other, and the mind becomes obscured. One who has already awakened to the Dao (the Way) should cast off passions and desires, return to simplicity and purity, devote oneself wholly to guarding true Qi and spiritual light, and settle the mind in the Dao. Even without establishing achievements or accumulating meritorious practice, one can, amid the coming and going of responding to affairs, become a luminous consciousness of Shen (spirit).

They also said that human nature is easy to nurture: nurture it much, and the efficacy of cultivation is great; nurture it little, and the efficacy is slight. How is one’s nature to be cultivated? Simply by not letting the mind stir in delusion. If practitioners can recognize the original mind and see the original nature clearly, their days are easy to live; if they do not understand the original mind and original nature, every day they suffer torment in the heart. If practitioners do not attend to the cultivation of the mind, what else is there to speak of? This is precisely the path taken by those of superior capacity, yet ordinary people often cannot grasp it and are unwilling to practice it. Sages and worthies, out of compassion and fearing that people will drift with the current, therefore teach them to work diligently and to receive and provide for others, preferring to toil themselves in order to help others, and to remain humble, gentle, and yielding, not letting time pass in vain. When one accumulates De (Virtue/Power), practices goodness, and widely forms bonds of blessing, and when blessings and virtue have grown deep, the mind naturally becomes calm and peaceful.

Master Danyang, out of compassion, directly points out the essentials of cultivating the mind and teaches people to set aside worldly affairs. This is the path taken by those of superior capacity. Practitioners all have aspiration at the beginning; after they persevere for ten years, the mind becomes calm and peaceful.

Master Danyang (Ma Yu, patriarch of the Quanzhen [Complete Perfection] school of Daoism) teaches with a compassionate heart that one must work directly from the depths of the mind and thoroughly let go of worldly affairs. This is the path of cultivation followed by those of the highest spiritual capacity.

Those who cultivate all have aspiration at the start, yet after about ten years they often let their thoughts run loose: first they seek within “being” and cannot find it; then they seek within “emptiness” and still cannot find it. In truth, subduing thought depends on persevering from beginning to end—what else is there to seek?

One’s original nature lies right here in the body and mind of the present moment; neither above the head nor beneath the feet can one leave it. If one cannot see what is before the eyes, nor what is behind the eyes, one will miss it. Original nature fills the ten directions, and the myriad things share one and the same body; if there is any clinging, one falls into limits everywhere. Cultivation must therefore be lively and thoroughly open, and must not be rigid or stuck.

The scripture goes on to say that if for three years one does not let Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) leak outward, the lower elixir can be formed, and light will appear in the eyes. If for six years one does not let Jing and Qi leak outward, the middle elixir can be formed, and the Yang spirit (Shen) can depart. If for nine years one does not let Jing and Qi leak outward, the great elixir can be formed, and one reaches the realm of soaring in freedom. None of these stages of cultivation departs from extinction (the pure and quiescent state that transcends the distinctions of birth and death). Original nature manifests of itself amid ordinary eating, drinking, and daily life, and the wondrous functions of the six spiritual powers are at once empty and still, yet do not lose their efficacy.

The scripture further says: if one takes “emptiness” to mean that nothing need be heeded and that cause and effect may also be cast aside, one will invite disaster amid unrestrained indulgence. To abandon “being” and cling to “non-being” is likewise a one-sided affliction—just as, in order to avoid drowning, one instead leaps into the fire.

Anyone engaged in the labors of the dusty world should eliminate attachment to daily food and drink. If one neither works nor brings the inner mind under control, one incurs a “debt of the mouth”—that is, one craves food and drink yet fails to restrain oneself. If one is not in a position to labor, one should cultivate the mind and refine one’s nature, quietly accumulating merit and practice; remaining gentle and humble in dealing with others and with affairs is itself cultivation.

If one labors with full attention, one should regard the blessings thus gained as food that has come by transformation (life sustained by what one’s labor yields), and thereby practice the Dao (the Way). When a practitioner sees others giving alms, suspicion or jealousy should not arise; when one sees others take one’s own belongings to give as alms, one should not be distressed on that account. All of these are the daily occasions on which one subdues the inner mind and tempers mind and nature. One’s body is only an illusory body and does not truly belong to oneself; only that one point of true nature is one’s own. Where affinity and conditions are present, one follows circumstances in doing good and cultivating the Dao; where conditions are lacking, one sits peacefully and nourishes the Dao.

A Buddhist scripture says: “The six kinds of spiritual function are empty yet not empty; a single orb of perfect clarity is form yet not form.” When a person’s six sense faculties (eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind) stir delusively, spiritual function cannot be brought forth. For the six faculties not to stir delusively means that the eyes do not look about at random, the ears do not listen indiscriminately, the nose does not crave scents whether fragrant or foul, the tongue does not crave flavor, the body does not cling to softness and comfort, and the mind does not indulge stray thoughts. With the mind settled as one, one constantly guards it amid every thing and circumstance, and does not injure one’s true nature. People often lose themselves as the six faculties chase after external conditions, and so cannot hold themselves firm. If one does not lose oneself by following conditions, spirit gathers; when spirit gathers, Qi (vital energy) gathers as well; when Qi gathers, nature and life can be preserved, and in the end one refines the Great Elixir (the state, attained through Neidan (internal alchemy), in which Jing (essence), Qi, and Shen (spirit) coalesce).

If a person living at leisure can settle the mind, what matters most is a firm resolve to seek the Dao (the Way). Whether one labors for a living, begs alms, or serves as a Daoist priest, one should apply oneself with single-minded devotion and wholehearted effort. People’s minds, however, are not all alike, and so they must be taught how to receive guests; when the heart is kind and good, blessings naturally accumulate.

Setting aside some grain for passersby to eat, planting vegetables for them to consume, and setting a few trees so that travelers may rest beneath them—these are all ways of accumulating merit. Yet what remains hardest to achieve is wholehearted devotion to the Dao and the cultivation of body and mind; being able to treat visitors well is likewise a good thing.

In former times, within Dadu, there was one Chen of the Vegetable Garden. He could hardly be said to understand the profound and subtle principles, nor could he read the Jing (scriptures); he kept no private store of classics. His master, however, once raised him up so that he ascended to heaven.

Here ends the lower juan of the Zhenxian Zhizhi Yulu.