《三论元旨》

Preface to the Sanlun Yuanzhi (Three Discourses on the Original Purport)

Once a person has awakened to penetrating understanding, there is no hidden depth or subtle obscurity that cannot be seen clearly; once confused and attached, no matter where one goes, folly is hard to avoid. Superfluous flesh and warts upon the body are illnesses of the physical form; delusive thoughts and afflictions are illnesses of the mind. When the illness of the form is removed, the body is at ease; when the illness of the mind disperses, the true and authentic nature becomes manifest. To treat the illness of the form, one must rely on a skilled physician; to eliminate the illness of the mind, one must depend on a subtle and excellent teaching.

The principle of nature is also like a vessel that takes form only after passing through furnace fire and hammering. Human life is limited in its span, and therefore one needs to employ a skill as practiced as that of Cook Ding in carving an ox. Only by receiving the guidance of an enlightened teacher can a standard be established; and in following the standard, one must also know how to apply it with flexibility. Taking the Jing (scripture/classic) as the tool for entering the Dao (the Way), one must in the end forget the tool and realize the profound principle within.

If one dwells in the clamor of the dusty world with a mind sunk in darkness, one loses the root and turns away from the true; when the mind within is pure, still, and luminously empty, the Shen (spirit) can be preserved intact and Qi (vital energy) becomes subtle and fine. The wholeness of Shen is the root of longevity; the subtlety of the working of Qi is the source of deathlessness. To attain the realm of communion with the Great Dao, there is none who does not need cultivation in order to realize it.

I have long lodged among mountains and waters, far from the dusty world, dwelling in seclusion in quiet places, realizing with an unchanging mind the nature of Wuwei (non-action), living at ease amid mountain forests and wilds, my heart ever cherishing what is mysterious and wondrous. I venture for the moment to take up one aspect and write these three discourses. Although the wording is plain and crude, the principles within may be taken as a basis. I hope that learners will no longer be in doubt, and that after practice there will be verification. Life and death are the greatest affliction of human existence; who can fail to grieve on their account? I broadly exhort those who come after to examine together the wondrous principle herein.

Chapter One: Daozong (The Ancestral Source of the Dao)

The root of the Great Dao is profound and subtle; the ultimate of principle operates with numinous marvel and is vast and all-penetrating. Realize the Great Dao together with the ultimate principle, and one understands that their original substance is in truth one. I broadly exhort those who come after to examine together the wondrous principle herein.

The Dao (the Way) is the fundamental guiding principle, profound and subtle, the realm in which principle reaches its utmost. Numinous and freely penetrating, its substance and nature are originally one, yet it responds to all things. The many names—“Wuwei (non-action),” “the Unsurpassed,” “the Limitless,” “the Infinite,” “the nature of the Dao,” “true nature,” “the nature of principle,” “mysterious nature,” “emptiness,” “spontaneity,” “vacant pervasiveness,” “liberation,” “utmost essence,” “utmost wonder,” “utmost sageliness,” “utmost truth,” “clarity and stillness,” “clarity and vacuity,” and “neither arising nor ceasing”—differ in wording, yet in principle they are not distinct. All are designations for the great Dao and for realized persons who have attained the Dao.

To awaken to the Dao is to reach the realm of the sages; to be lost is to remain in the ordinary world. Delusion and awakening differ, but the supremely true Dao does not. The mysterious, silent Dao is not remote: once false clinging is clearly seen, true nature appears. Living beings are confused by attachment to what has form and color, and so the sages speak of Wuwei in order to break every kind of clinging, point toward the realm of emptiness, and clarify the subtle source. If one understands that neither emptiness nor form (things that have shape) should become an object of attachment, one will not be obstructed by them, and the true, constant nature will manifest.

Thus the Benji jing (Scripture of the Original Juncture) says: because people cling to “nature,” one expediently says that all phenomena are provisional; and because people cling to the “provisional,” one expediently says that all phenomena are empty. Once true nature has been thoroughly penetrated, it circulates and flows of itself—how could talk of “emptiness” or the “provisional” obstruct it?

Before one has awakened to the Dao, however, restless worldly thoughts must still be brought to rest. The supremely subtle Dao cannot be seen by visualizing form and color, nor can the supremely profound Dao be fathomed by shallow feeling and reflection. Unless the mind is made clear, empty, and still, and stray thoughts are washed away, innate genuineness cannot be preserved. Even wide reading and abundant learning will never bring awakening to the Dao if one lacks a mind that is empty, still, and luminously aware.

To see only the outward body, and not turn inward to discern the Shen (spirit), is a grave delusion. The text that follows appears corrupt or incomplete: “not reaching the spirit, its reality—please record.” Out of love for the beauty of mountains and waters, one could not but set the matter down in writing.

Record of Cuiwei Abbey

Yan Yujing, a Daoist priest of Cuiwei Abbey in Fuzhou, requested Lord Jie Wen’an to compose the Record of Cuiwei Abbey, so as to recount the circumstances of the abbey’s construction.

Record of Cuiwei Abbey

I was entrusted by Yan Yujing, a Daoist priest of Cuiwei Guan (abbey) in Fuzhou. He brought me the Record of Cuiwei Guan written by Lord Jie Wen'an and asked me to narrate the building and revival of Cuiwei Guan and to compose an essay for that purpose. I had never found the time to set pen to paper. This spring, on my way to Nanfeng to pay homage at the shrine of the Perfected Lord (zhenjun) Wang, the Shichen (Attendant of the Throne), I passed through Cuiwei Guan. The fields there are fertile, and streams and mountains encircle one another; range upon range of green hills stretches for more than ten li, while ridges, hillocks, and branching spurs rise and fall without a break. It is truly a fine place where the configurations of mountains and rivers gather.

According to Lord Wen'an's record, Yingzhen Mountain lies on the border between Yu and Ru, south of Jinxi County. In the first year of Tianbao of the Tang (742), a Daoist priest built a hut at the foot of the mountain and practiced self-cultivation there, naming it "Gulin" (Valley Forest). In the first year of Xuanhe of the Song (1119), the court bestowed the name "Cuiwei Guan." In the second year of Taiding of the Yuan (1325), the abbot Zhou Yingti dismantled and rebuilt the abbey and recorded the matter. Later, after long neglect, by the end of the Yuan dynasty the place had become a ruin overgrown with weeds.

At the founding of our dynasty, the He family of Houche in Jinxi, whose wealth was ample, invited Luo Zeming, a Daoist priest of Yanxi Guan in Nancheng of Yu, to preside over Yanshou Guan. Among Luo Zeming's disciples were Xiong Yiqian and Yan Yujing. In the sixth year of Hongwu (1373), Yan Yujing petitioned the authorities for an ordination certificate (dudie) and became a Daoist priest. The following year (1374), the Ministry of Rites summoned him to serve as a musician and dancer at the Court of Imperial Sacrifices. Soon afterward his mother died, and he returned home to observe mourning. When the mourning period was completed in the eighth year of Hongwu (1375), he resumed his post in the music and dance troupe. In the twelfth year of Hongwu (1379), he requested leave from office on a pretext and was permitted to return.

Xiong Yiqian later resided at the princely establishment in Qingzhou. In the seventeenth year of Hongwu (1384), after the Office of Daoist Affairs (Daohuisi) submitted a report, he was invited to take charge of the affairs of Cuiwei Guan. In the twenty-second year of Hongwu (1389), Luo Zeming died. Yan Yujing gave him a generous burial and then, leading his disciples Huang Yongsu and Li Yongguang, jointly took charge of Yanshou Guan and Cuiwei Guan. He repaired the halls, covered corridors, and other buildings. In the autumn of the thirtieth year of Hongwu (1397), he built a pavilion on the mountain summit. The pines and bamboo beside it were deep green and luxuriant, and the pavilion was named "Cuitao" (Emerald Billows). He also obtained from his fellow townsman Li Yincheng the Record of Cuiwei Guan written by Lord Wen'an. This accorded exactly with his resolve to enlarge the abbey, and so he asked me once again to compose an essay.

I have heard that the places where the immortals and perfected ones (xianzhen) of antiquity left numinous traces mostly depend upon mountains and rivers of bold and beautiful character. The saying that a place becomes renowned because of its people is indeed true. The mountains and waters of our prefecture are rich and fair, and none surpass those of the Yu and Fu region. Cuiwei Guan was founded in the Tang and flourished through the Song and the Yuan. Was this not because the place is beautiful and because outstanding men have been there? That Cuiwei Guan has continued to the present day without disappearing, and that a distinguished scholar such as Lord Wen'an wrote a record for it, may be called a splendid thing. Yan Yujing is quick in talent and thought, and he is also skilled at the qin (zither) and at painting. With him directing the construction and renovation, Cuiwei Guan will surely become even more magnificent than it is today. To have him preside over the abbey's affairs is truly to have found the right person. I am of course glad to record this achievement. As for the configuration of the mountains and rivers and the layout of the abbey buildings, the previous record has already described them in full, and I shall not repeat them here.

Nanfeng was originally a prefecture; today it is an upper-grade county of Yuzhou. Its mountains and waters are beautiful, its population large, and merchant boats constantly come and go in trade. Local roads lead to Nanchang, Yuanzhou, and Ganzhou, and also to Yuzhou, Fuzhou, and on to Fujian and Guangdong. The charitable ferry lies precisely on this major route, and so boats must be provided to carry people across.

The stream is less than five li from the county seat. Along its banks, ridge upon ridge of hills stretches and undulates, encircling Jun Peak to the north like a girdling belt; the scenery is lovely. This place is Shengui Ridge. In the Chongning reign of the Song, Shichen Wang Zhenjun (a Daoist divine title, referring to a perfected person surnamed Wang) was renowned for his practice of the Dao (the Way) and won the regard of Emperor Huizong. In his later years he underwent feathered transformation here—what Daoism calls attaining the Dao and becoming an immortal—and the fame of Shengui Ridge grew all the more marked because of it.

In this county there was a worthy man, Zou Tiebi, who had studied the methods under one of the Shangguan family. This Shangguan was a nephew of the Shichen. Later Zou Tiebi met the Shichen himself and personally received his profound transmission, and his arts of the Dao were thereby made known. At that time Wang Zhi, prefect of Nanfeng Prefecture, took Zou Tiebi as his teacher. While the methods were being transmitted, thunder suddenly sounded above the altar, and Zou Tiebi said, “I am about to leave this world.” Startled and delighted, Wang Zhi brought out all his wealth to offer him. Zou Tiebi declined, saying, “I am a cultivator of the Dao who wanders the four quarters; what use have I for these?” Wang Zhi then asked that Guangmiao Lingguan be made the Daoist abbey for the worship of the Shichen. The original abbey had stood elsewhere and was later moved here and rebuilt.

From then on, whenever drought, flood, or illness came, the residents prayed at the abbey and for the most part received a response; those who came to pray in sincerity never ceased from day to day. Yet crossing the stream still brought the hardship of wading. This was not only inconvenient; a way of acting concerned only with the pursuit of profit was likewise unsuited to it. People therefore set ferryboats at the crossing and built a pavilion there, so that those coming and going would have a place to rest.

When warfare arose at the end of the Yuan, the pavilion fell into ruin and the ferryboats were destroyed. In the spring of the gengwu year of Hongwu (1390), I once paid my respects at the shrine of the Zhenjun. At that time Guangmiao Lingguan lay desolate and unrepaired, so I ordered Zhang Hui, a successor in the methods from Yuzhou (one who inherits the methods of the Dao), to raise labor and restore it. When the work was finished, in the yihai year (1395), the Pavilion of Awaiting the Immortal was rebuilt, ferryboats were provided as a free crossing, and a number of mu of paddy fields were donated, their income used to support the boatmen and to pay for replacing the boats. So lasting an arrangement was thoroughly considered, and it also expressed a humane concern for the hardship travelers suffer in fording the water.

Thereupon people repeatedly asked me to write an account of the matter. “Yi” means doing what is fitting. The image of the boat is taken from the principle, in the Huan hexagram of the Yijing (Classic of Changes), of ferrying people by boat and thereby opening what is blocked; this is the fitting point at which the sages drew images from things and established meaning.

Even when an ordinary stream cuts off the road, if people remain indifferent and unknowing and do not grasp the principle within it, this is what is called “dismissing both inner and outer, and forgetting the One”: the mind clings neither to inner nor to outer, nor to the “One.” Forgetting the One means that the function by which the mind illuminates the myriad things is no longer stuck in attachment, and afflictions are purified along with it. It is like a clear spring washing a soiled vessel: only after the vessel is cleansed can it be put to proper use; only when the mind is lucid and pure throughout can one penetrate the true Dao. Thus the scripture (Jing) says: “Only by being constantly without desire can one behold the mysterious and subtle.”

Once the subtle principle has manifested, and one no longer clings even to “forgetting,” that is true penetration. Only by forgetting inner and outer together can one, in a transcendent way, hold both sides at once. Awakening to this subtle principle, one does not seek to know by a discriminating mind, and yet truly understands; one forgets the “One” to which one clings, and thereby penetrates the true “One.” This applies not to the “One” alone, but embraces all things. From this one can see that the “One” is the root to which the myriad things return, while the myriad things are the function of the “One.” What is called “the One within what is not one” must be realized from within the True One. The source of the True One is originally without admixture, and is not limited by past and present, nor by birth and extinction. The Taishang Jing (Scripture of the Most High) says: “Silent and still, empty and vast, it stands alone and does not change; it moves in its cycle and is without beginning.” This is that principle.

Thoroughly penetrating this source, one will not go astray; the mind accords with the Dao, and the Dao can also be embodied in the mind. The Dao is the mind, and the mind is the Dao; mind and Dao are the same in nature. One can neither say that it is so, nor say that it is not so—this is the place of the mysterious and subtle.

Dwelling in the midst of being, one is not bound by “being,” nor does one go against non-being; dwelling in the midst of non-being, one is not bound by “non-being,” nor does one go against being. There is nowhere it is not present, and nothing it does not penetrate. When spirit is brought into thorough interconnection, one can accord with the true and constant nature. This is to penetrate the inner mind, to see clearly into the myriad things, and to reach the realm of the Infinite.

Sentient beings sink in the sea of suffering, and in every case this comes from the thoughts of the mind. Extinguish false thoughts and return to the true, and the subtle principle of the natural source then becomes manifest. The “One” gives rise to yinyun Qi (vital energy)—the state in which Yin-Yang intermingle and chaos is not yet divided—and this yinyun Qi is in turn born from the joining of two parts.

To gather the mind and hold it steadily on the “One” is called calm concentration. To let the mind sink into ashen stillness, forgetting even attachment to the “One,” is called extinction concentration. To realize that the mind has united with the True One is called supreme concentration.

When the body transcends the ordinary world, as if undergoing feathered transformation and ascending as an immortal, one is called an immortal. When bodily form reaches the realm of true Shen (spirit), one is called a Perfected Person. When body and mind unite with original nature, one is called a sage. A mind like a bright mirror, clear and endowed with wisdom, is called awakened concentration. Union of the mind with the True One is supreme concentration; transcendence of the ordinary body is the immortal; bodily form that reaches the realm of true Shen is the Perfected Person; body and mind united with original nature is the sage. A state of mind that is clear, lucid, and penetrating is called one awakened as an immortal. An inner mind that penetrates true Shen is called one awakened as a Perfected Person. An inner mind united with true nature is called one awakened as a sage.

These three states of concentration and four levels of mind enable a person to draw gradually nearer to the Dao (the Way). The four states of mind are the coarse, the fine, the subtle, and the wondrous. The cultivator clarifies and quiets body and mind, passing from the coarse into the fine, from the fine into the subtle, and from the subtle into the wondrous, until at last one penetrates through to the Dao. Ignorance, deluded obsession, and frantic agitation are called the coarse. Clarity, gentleness, and unmixed simplicity are called the fine. The merging of spirit into empty, silent stillness is called the subtle. Entering deeply into the profound true source is called the wondrous.

By clarifying and stilling the inner mind, turning observation back upon oneself, and understanding that everything contemplated is empty, coarse and shallow confusion is dispelled. This is called penetrating the coarse. When the finer delusive thoughts all come to rest, this is called penetrating the fine. When one clearly discerns the hidden subtlety of spirit-consciousness, this is called penetrating the subtle. When one awakens to the mystery of the great Dao and can penetrate it, this is called penetrating the wondrous.

Considered again in terms of the makeup of body and mind, Qi (vital energy) that has congealed into form, together with the fleshly body, belongs to the coarse. The flowing breath belongs to the fine. The discriminating function of spirit-consciousness and wisdom belongs to the subtle. Upright and true original nature, constant and unchanging, belongs to the wondrous. In cultivating and nourishing body and mind, gradually eliminating depletion is called penetrating the coarse. Making the breath harmonious and freely circulating is called penetrating the fine. Bringing bodily form and spirit into balance is called penetrating the subtle. Letting bodily form and original nature merge without obstruction is called penetrating the wondrous. From this one can see that the fleshly body is coarse, flowing Qi is fine, spiritual intelligence is subtle, and upright nature is constant and wondrous.

What is called the wondrous is spoken of only relative to the coarse. Sentient beings cling to what is coarse and shallow, and so they must cultivate the wondrous state. Spoken of from the Dao itself, there is nothing called wondrous, nor anything that is not wondrous. Only when one speaks of concrete things is there a distinction between the wondrous and the not wondrous. Likewise, from the Dao itself there is no question of cultivating or not cultivating; only from the standpoint of concrete things is there a difference between cultivating and not cultivating. When spirit-consciousness is used to penetrate original nature, one can reach the point of not deliberately wielding spirit, while numinous clarity manifests of itself. If, from what is coarse and shallow, one lets go of attachment to the wondrous state, one can instead arrive at what is truly wondrous.

To let the mind wither into stillness, extinguish wisdom, and sit guarding a false and empty quiet is the method of quiescent extinction. To harmonize the spirit, nourish primordial Qi, and, while sitting, forget both form and spirit together is the method of long life. For life to arise first and afterward return to annihilation is called quiescent extinction. Only when life can arise again after annihilation is it called true life. If one can penetrate the principle that true life still remains after extinction, one will cling neither to true emptiness nor to wondrous existence.

Yet if one mistakes the three realms within delusion for the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), the matter may seem easy to understand while the principle behind it is hard to penetrate. A true Utmost Person is not disturbed by desire directed toward existence or toward emptiness; the inner mind remains constantly harmonious and deeply still. This state is the mind-method that the Utmost Person keeps deeply hidden. Desires as restless and hard to tame as apes and fierce beasts are much like the wild confusion and foolishness of sentient beings, and they cannot be cut off all at once.

To quiet disorder one relies on stillness, and to keep that stillness one makes it a constant condition. Even in action one can remain clear, and even in seated stillness one can continue to contemplate. Only one who can distinguish false wisdom and false nature, and who penetrates true wisdom and true nature, is a person of great and thorough awakening.

Dwell in peace and evenness, lessen desire, and preserve simplicity. Do not listen only with the ears; listen with the mind. Do not listen only with the mind; listen with Qi. In the end, let go even of listening with Qi, and entrust everything to original nature. One who can respond fully to things without clinging, and who can set aside distinctions concerning principle without losing its wholeness, is a person of comprehensive understanding.

To know original nature only by culling passages and phrases, and by what the ears hear and the eyes see, is borrowed knowledge. To clarify and still the inner mind, turn observation back upon oneself, and unite with original nature is true knowledge. If one can set aside borrowed knowledge and penetrate the real, then in the end even borrowed knowledge can be transformed into the real.

The Dao (the Way), through its nature of emptiness, stillness, and free penetration, nurtures the myriad things and is fully present in every quarter. The True Source—the fundamental origin of all things—manifests as numinous wonder and spiritual response, while primordial Qi (vital energy) moves according to differing conditions and forms every kind of thing. Whatever has form comes into being by relying on Qi; every living being that perceives receives Shen (spirit) and thereby possesses consciousness.

Shen is the function of nature (xing); consciousness is the function of Shen. Primordial Qi is the function of nature; the Qi of Yin-Yang is the function of primordial Qi; and the forms and colors displayed by the Qi of Yin-Yang are the function of Qi. Thus the Taishang Jing (scripture) says, “The Dao is empty, yet it is put to use,” and the Nanhua Jing says that spirit is born of the Dao. This is the principle they express.

What pervades everything and is fully present throughout it is called nature; what appears uniquely within a single living being is called Shen. The body is the vessel in which Shen and consciousness dwell, and the mind is the place where Shen and consciousness gather. The Xisheng Jing says, “The body is the dwelling of Shen.” Consciousness, too, arises because of Shen. The relation between Shen and consciousness is like that between the sun and its light: light is born of the sun, yet is not the sun itself; consciousness arises from Shen, yet is not identical with the true substance of Shen. Shen resides within the body and enables a person to know the outer world. Nature is everywhere limpid and clear; even when it is active, it does not depart from stillness. Compared with nature, nature is the more hidden and subtle, while Shen appears more limited; compared with the body, the body is more bounded, while Shen appears subtle and fine.

Nature, Shen, and consciousness share the same root, but their functions differ. An awakened person can penetrate Shen and accord with nature; a deluded person remains stuck in consciousness and turns away from Shen. To be stuck in consciousness and turn away from Shen is to sink into birth and death along with the movements of Qi; to penetrate Shen and accord with nature is to abide in wondrous freedom.

A living being endowed with spiritual nature is formed when Shen responds to Qi and gives rise to a body, so that form and consciousness are both present. Insentient things receive only Qi and do not receive Shen; they therefore have form but no consciousness. From this it can be known that Shen can endow things with consciousness but cannot generate form, while Qi can form a body but cannot bestow consciousness. Nature and Shen possess numinous clarity; the forms manifested by Qi have no consciousness.

A body that receives the Qi of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) passes through flourishing and decline, but true nature and the True Source are never filled to overflowing and never exhausted. The birth and death of bodily life are such that when Qi disperses there is death, and when Qi gathers there is life. Qi undergoes gathering and dispersing, but Shen admits of no division into arising and perishing. Shen can make use of Qi, and Qi can also nourish Shen: when Qi gathers, form and Shen together bring life to completion; when Qi disperses, form and Shen each proceed on their own.

Foods that are meaty and rank, acrid and harsh, or filthy and turbid foster the turbid Qi of Yin-Yang, whereas pure and harmonious wondrous medicines nourish primordial, harmonious, and upright Qi. A person whose upright Qi is abundant and nourishes Shen can practice Wuwei (non-action) and remain free of desire; a person whose Shen is nourished by the turbid Qi of Yin-Yang readily falls into many desires and much doing. Many desires and much doing are the root of depleting life and sinking into ruin; Wuwei and freedom from desire are the essential means of preserving limpid clarity and lasting existence.

The myriad things originally come into being by following the middle way. If they are drawn along by consciousness and desire, they revolve with karmic force. Living beings never depart from the great Dao, yet they have not awakened to it. Any life that has feeling and form has distinctions and boundaries. Chasing external objects gives rise to dependent arising; when dependent arising accumulates as karma, one receives the corresponding retribution. If one can turn the light inward and comprehend the principle that is hidden and subtle, limpid and still, empty and wondrous, one can dwell amid dependent arising without being bound by it, and face external objects without being controlled by them, and thus will not be ruled by karmic retribution.

When the three karmas—the activities of body, speech, and mind—and the six faculties—eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind—are disordered and confused, Qi becomes turbid and emotional consciousness grows dim. When thought is stilled and the mind made empty and silent, Shen becomes clear and bright, and Qi moves freely. The Benji Jing says that pure Qi and turbid Qi each come according to their own source; it also says that everything living beings receive is a response to karmic conditions. The Xisheng Jing says that when good deeds accumulate, good Qi arrives, and when evil deeds accumulate, evil Qi arrives. Evil Qi is turbid and heavy; it increases darkness and leads people into delusion. Good Qi is pure and upright; it can make the inner mind empty, bright, and lucid. A person whose mind is bright is as if parting the mist and seeing the blue sky; a person whose mind is dark is like one fallen into muddy river water, sinking and drowning with the current.

Therefore, to reach the ultimate True Source and penetrate the wondrous basis, one must also set aside such distinctions as brightness and darkness, good and evil. This is the profound principle of the self-so (ziran). What is here called “the self-so” means that the nature of Wuwei is established without depending on any other condition, and so it is called self-so. The practitioner passes from deliberate practice to Wuwei, and from a life that is born comes to realize the unborn. Understanding the dependent arising proper to each thing and according with the self-so, one can realize the nature of the unborn. It is not that nature cuts off arising; rather, there is nothing it does not bring forth. Even while it generates and transforms the myriad things, its wondrous basis has never truly been fashioned into “birth.” Thus, to act without acting, and to have appearance while being without appearance, is the subtle substance of the Dao; to act through deliberate doing, and to possess form and appearance, is the vast function of the Dao. The wondrous basis originally depends on nothing.

The mind is both the root of every deviant thought and the gateway to every mysterious and wondrous realm. The roots of nature, Shen, and consciousness lie deep and hidden, and in the end they can be illumined only through the mind. When living beings are dull and ignorant, this is called “foolish consciousness”; when they do not understand rites and norms, this is called “shallow consciousness”; when they are skilled in reasoning and keen of intellect, this is called “knowing consciousness”; when they are tranquil, gentle, plain, and genuine, this is called “genuine consciousness”; when the mind is clear, empty, and still, this is called “still consciousness”; when stray thoughts and clever discriminations are removed, this is called “consciousness of forgetting”; when one can discern principle clearly from within, this is called “wisdom consciousness”; when one comprehends Shen and true nature, this is called “subtle consciousness”; and when one thoroughly penetrates the ocean of nature, this is called “wondrous consciousness.”

Alas, most people of that time remained at the surface of consciousness, and few could penetrate the numinous principle. One who penetrates Shen is not without consciousness, but can pass through consciousness without being blocked by it. One who is stuck in consciousness is not without Shen; it is only that, though Shen is present, such a person is cut off from the numinous principle. One who penetrates the numinous can understand at once both the substance and the function of Shen and of consciousness; one who clings to consciousness grasps only consciousness and cannot commune with Shen.

One who wishes to commune with Shen and penetrate nature may first cultivate the “contemplation of gathering thoughts,” a contemplative practice of collecting stray thoughts, and then cultivate the “contemplation of forgetting the mind,” a contemplative practice that brings the clinging mind to stillness. In this way one gradually sets aside discrimination and clever artifice, and the various realms become still and lucid: listening outward, one does not cling to sound; looking inward, one does not cling to form and color. In the realm beyond form and appearance, one suddenly attains a hidden and subtle realization; Shen is numinous, empty, and interfused—this is the numinous principle. Going further, one lets Shen merge with emptiness and stillness, so that mind and object vanish without obstruction. One can then meet in hidden communion with the boundless great Dao, open and vast, penetrating the mysterious nature and the true purport.

From this it can be known that only by contemplating consciousness with consciousness, until the function of consciousness is exhausted, can one penetrate Shen; and only by contemplating Shen with Shen, until the function of Shen is exhausted, can one penetrate nature. Once nature has been penetrated, nature manifests of itself; once Shen has been penetrated, Shen likewise manifests of itself. Only this realization—Shen manifesting Shen of itself, and nature manifesting nature of itself—is true seeing. If one uses consciousness to see Shen, or uses Shen to see nature, this still belongs among false views. One who can bring the mind’s thoughts to settled calm will not, even so, fall into an evil destiny; how much more so one who penetrates Shen and accords with nature?

Shen is hidden and subtle; nature is mysterious and wondrous. Although nature is numinously clear, its substance is limpid and still, undisturbed by false thoughts. Because living beings remain stuck in consciousness and cannot penetrate through, this is called the false mind. Once one understands the root of Shen, one need not abandon the false mind in order to seek a true mind elsewhere: truth can become manifest in the very observation of the false mind. When the substance of nature is situated in the realm of emptiness, it accords with emptiness yet is not identical with emptiness; when situated in the realm of form, it accords with form yet is not identical with form. It pervades both emptiness and form, ever still and ever penetrating. Therefore, in its vastness it leaves nothing unembraced, and in its fineness it enters into everything.

There are five conditions: not yet having entered the Three Realms; entering the Formless Realm; entering the Realm of Form; entering the Realm of Desire; and falling into the evil paths.

Wondrous medicines can regulate and nourish body and mind, and through zuowang—sitting in forgetfulness, in which one forgets external things and the self while sitting quietly—one can discern original nature. Regulating and nourishing body and mind can keep the physical form from death; penetrating original nature can keep delusive thoughts from arising. With neither death nor birth, the physical form can then transform and commune with Shen (spirit). This is the path of feathered transformation into immortality. Thus the Shangqing, the Taiqing, the Zhengao, and other scriptures (Jing) all say that the Golden Elixir (Jindan) and wondrous medicines, together with the refining of Qi (vital energy) and communion with Shen, enable a person to lighten the body and soar aloft, ascend and become an immortal, and reach the state of ascending to the True and uniting with the Holy.

From this it can be known that removing delusive thoughts is the key to awakening to the Dao (the Way), and that the peace and security of Shen and Qi is the pivot of longevity without death. To claim that one cultivates the Dao while delusive thoughts have not been removed is like a blind person insisting on seeing the light. If thought can be settled into stillness and spiritual truth penetrated, it is like drilling wood to obtain fire: the flame arises of itself.

Devoted quiet sitting that forgets external things, and then communes with spirit and awakens to nature, is the method of cultivating Shen. Daoyin (guiding and stretching) of the physical form, together with breathing out and in the Qi of primordial harmony, is the method of cultivating the body. Cultivating Shen without cultivating Qi is the method of miedu—leaving the physical form and returning to quiescent extinction. Cultivating Qi without cultivating Shen is the method of prolonging life. Only when Shen and Qi are cultivated together is it the method of learning immortality.

In cultivating Shen, refining the mind comes first; in receiving Qi, daoyin comes first. Daoyin makes body and mind flow freely and return to Great Harmony (Taihe); refining the mind opens access to every subtle realm. This is enough to merge Shen into empty luminosity and to render Qi clear, untrammeled, and wholly pure. As Shen and Qi transform and circulate, the true and wondrous Dao is complete in every respect.

Those of superior capacity, in cultivating the Dao, can set aside all worldly vexation, understand the true source, penetrate it through the perfect fusion of right wisdom, and nurture the wondrous principle within. They harmonize body and mind so that life continues, as when fire is passed on through firewood: though the wood is replaced, the fire goes on. After life has been preserved for a long time, one may ascend into the realm of the immortals; from immortal one enters the True, and from the True one unites with the Holy. The holy realm is that in which transformation flows without obstruction and wondrous function is inexhaustible. This is the path that retains the physical form of youwei (purposive action) while penetrating the original nature of Wuwei (non-action).

Those of middling capacity, in cultivating the True, can understand the inner source of the mind, yet the body remains no different from that of an ordinary person. They abandon the body subject to outflow and turn toward the holy realm. This is the path that discards the youwei physical form in order to penetrate the original nature of Wuwei. Those of superior capacity fully realize both form and spirit and forever awaken to the true and constant source. Those of middling capacity, though they have penetrated spirit, lose the physical form and therefore must still undergo miedu. Those of inferior capacity realize neither form nor spirit and are borne along by the shifts of karmic force.

The Dao constantly manifests as one and as the spontaneous, while the myriad things display countless differences. The Dao can generate and nourish the myriad things, yet particular things are not identical with the Dao’s original truth. From the standpoint of the Dao, all things and all phenomena interpenetrate in the one Dao; from the standpoint of the myriad things, all things and all phenomena each cling to a single side. Though things differ, the Dao does not differ; though methods differ, the Dao does not differ. Youwei practices perish, but the Dao does not perish. The distinction between emptiness and form may be cut away, but the Dao is not cut off.

The true fundamental appearance is limpid and unmoving, and yet it emptily penetrates all things, free and unobstructed. This is the “Dao of Great Penetration.” The Dao is the source of all phenomena. To penetrate the true and constant in depth is to return to the root and revert to the origin. The Dao stands to living beings as an emperor stands to the people: once the imperial throne is ascended, all affairs and all phenomena come under its sway; once the wondrous Dao is penetrated, all phenomena can be seen. The Benji Jing (Scripture of the Original Limit) says: “Fully endowed with all wisdom, one accomplishes the unsurpassed Dao.”

When the four aggregates of form, consciousness, mind, and thought—the four elements that constitute body and mind—come together, good and evil arise from them.

The Dao (the Way) of the Mahayana is impartial and vast, without increase or decrease and without limit. The methods of gradual cultivation, by contrast, distinguish practice from realization. From this one can see that only by taking a boat does one reach the farther shore, and once there the boat should be set aside; only through study does one accomplish something, and once that accomplishment is gained, study itself may also be set aside. Thus the Daodejing says: “In the pursuit of learning, knowledge increases day by day; in cultivating the Dao, desires and attachments decrease day by day. Decrease and decrease again, until one reaches Wuwei (non-action). Once Wuwei is reached, there is nothing that cannot be done.”

What the student of learning increases day by day are views of intentional action; what the cultivator of the Dao decreases day by day are attachment to, and cognition of, matters of intentional action. Only by continually diminishing intentional action can one reach non-being; and after reaching non-being, one is instead able to possess all things. The source of the Dao is deep, still, and silent, yet it can manifest according to the resonance and innate capacity of living beings. The capacities of beings differ as keen or dull, and the sage’s teaching likewise divides into the gradual and the sudden. Cultivating in sequence and attaining step by step is called the gradual teaching; truly realizing and entering Wuwei is called the sudden teaching.

True nature extends everywhere and embraces every quarter. Though it leaves no trace, nothing is lacking in it. This is called “response of the Dao” (the spontaneous manifestation of the body of the Dao). That the sage expounds scriptures in the lands of Han and propagates the teaching in foreign lands is called “differentiated response” (responsive transformation that varies by region). That the original nature of all living beings is the same as the nature of the Dao is called “universal resonance”; that beings receive the teaching according to their own kind and capacity is called “particular resonance.” The Haikong Jing (scripture) says: “The sage abides in Wuwei, and living beings therefore act through resonance.” It also says: “When living beings resonate with the sage, their causes and conditions each differ; when the sage responds and transforms for living beings, the forms that appear also each differ.”

Thus the profound and subtle fundamental reality, still and unmoving, is called the true body; appearing and expounding the characteristics of phenomena is called the response body (the body manifested according to what living beings require); appearing through the retribution of causes and conditions is called the reward body. Hence within the subtle there is manifestation, and within manifestation the subtle is also contained. The sage’s responding to and transforming living beings by means of intentional action is manifestation within the subtle fundamental reality; living beings’ awakening and entry into Wuwei is the realization of the subtle within manifestation.

All the myriad phenomena originally come from what is dark, profound, and remote. Within them the principle of spontaneity is fully present, and they also communicate with causes and conditions. The Dao is a single nature, yet it can appear in response as all kinds of Shen (spirits). The nature of Shen is originally one, yet it can appear in response as all kinds of things. The myriad things, endowed with one and the same nature of Shen, can in turn manifest as all kinds of consciousness. The responsive transformation of Shen forms the wisdom of living beings; the responsive transformation of physical form forms the appearances of the myriad kinds; the response body manifests the sage’s compassionate teaching; original nature guides deluded living beings.

What is called original nature is the subtle numinous nature of emptiness and spontaneity. The sage’s responsive transformation is the wondrous function of original nature; the responsive transformation of spirits is a finer function of original nature; the responsive transformation of physical form is a still finer function of original nature; form and appearance are the manifestation of original nature in the world of shape. The “responding sage” spoken of here means the sage who appears through responsive transformation; “appearance” means every image of intentional action among heaven, earth, and the myriad things.

The Dao can respond to and transform the myriad things, yet it does not produce them as a formed thing would. It can bring the myriad things to completion, yet it does not cling to that completion. It can cause the myriad things to exist, yet it does not possess them. It can return the myriad things to emptiness, yet it does not cling to emptiness. It is not a concrete thing, yet it can appear as things; it is not a fixed rule, yet it can carry out rules without being bound by them. To respond to and transform the myriad things without departing from the root is precisely the constant, unchanging nature of the great Dao. When the beings of the six paths arise, the Dao does not arise on that account; when the three realms pass through the changes of a kalpa, the Dao does not change on that account.

If cultivation is to accord with the Dao, one must first cultivate Shen, and only then the body. A single body contains thirty-six thousand spirits, which govern and set the whole body in motion. Their functions differ, yet they return to one, just as hands and feet differ and still belong together to one body. Within appearances there are further different appearances—sameness within difference; within spirits there are further different spirits—difference within sameness. Although being and non-being stand opposed, affairs and principle can still communicate. Spontaneity contains causes and conditions, and causes and conditions also contain spontaneity. Spontaneity is not apart from causes and conditions, nor are causes and conditions apart from spontaneity, and so within difference sameness is possible.

All causes and conditions are causes and conditions that spontaneity itself possesses. Moving from the root gradually into concrete things, causes and conditions differ as functions differ; returning from concrete things to the root, the root embraces everything and has no boundary. The true body contains the myriad forms, and mysterious responsive transformation extends throughout the vast world. Thus it can hold together one and the same nature of Shen, and can also appear separately as countless forms.

Without comparing precious treasures, it is hard to know their worth; without understanding the Dao, it is hard to realize the true. The myriad things are born by receiving the Dao, and so all things possess the nature of the Dao. One who has not awakened to the Dao is like a person who left home in youth, drifted into the ordinary world, and lost their original nature. The highest teaching emerges in response to the time. The teaching can guide a person to understand principle; without understanding the teaching, one falls into every kind of hardship. Slandering the sage also brings the suffering of the evil paths. Yet the Dao is present everywhere, so one need not on this account fear that living beings cannot awaken: once they awaken, they can reach through, and they are not far from the Dao.

The Zhenzang Jing says: “All afflictions lie next to correct nature.” The principle of sudden awakening is that even while dwelling in deluded conditions, one can realize the true. This means that movement does not contradict stillness, and stillness does not obstruct function; in responsive transformation one constantly preserves the true, and within the true one can constantly respond and transform. The Xisheng Jing says: “The Dao does not exist only in my own body; the myriad things all have the Dao.” Therefore one who is able to cultivate can reach through; having reached through to the Dao, one can become a sage.

Guard and cultivate Zhenyi (True Unity), Zhengyi (Orthodox Unity), and Sanyi (the Three-in-One), and the Dao (the Way) can be brought to completion.

The Great Dao, formed as an undifferentiated whole, manifests images that are vast without limit, and its functions are of many kinds. Those who have not awakened to it find it difficult, on the level of principle, truly to believe in it. The essential points of the various scriptures are cited here as evidence, so as to remove people’s doubts.

The Taishang Jing says: “The image of the Great Dao has no fixed form.” The Xisheng Jing says: “Nothing under Heaven is more yielding and weak than the Dao.” The Dao is yielding and weak because it embraces Heaven and Earth and runs through the myriad things. The Zhenzang Jing says: “The most yielding and weak Dao under Heaven contains all things; yet it is also subtle and minute, hard to detect.” The Nanhua Jing says: “What is most refined and minute has no form; what is most vast cannot be enclosed.” These sayings show that the supreme Dao is Wuwei (non-action), yet able to contain the myriad phenomena.

The Laozi Jing says: “The Dao brings the myriad things into being; De (Virtue/Power) makes the myriad things grow.” The Taishang Tianzheng Jing of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing) says: “The Dao is vast and profound; transforming within emptiness and non-being, it gives birth to darkness.” The Taiping Jing says: “The Dao embraces the inner and the outer and is able to produce spirit.” The Nanhua Jing says: “The Dao is genuine and trustworthy, yet non-acting and formless; it causes ghosts, spirits, and the Celestial Emperor to manifest their numinous power, and causes Heaven and Earth to come into being.” These sayings show that Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy), together with Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things, are all functions of the Great Dao.

The Xisheng Jing says: “Think of the time before I was born, when there was as yet no body; it was only because true Qi gathered and accumulated that my body was formed.” The scripture also says: “Without Shen, the body cannot grow of itself; without the body, Shen cannot take shape alone. Only when bodily form and Shen join and bring each other to completion can they come into being.” This shows that living things are all formed through the mutual response of Shen and Qi.

When Shen is within an ant, it corresponds to the ant’s bodily form; when Shen is within an elephant, a horse, a gull, or a great peng, it likewise corresponds in each case to that creature’s form. Shen takes on greater or lesser size and longer or shorter measure according to the form, while the form depends on Shen in order to function. The capacity to distinguish good from evil is called “shi” (consciousness); the wondrous transformations in the hidden depths are called “Shen.” What directs the body’s activity is precisely Shen: when Shen is present, the body lives; when Shen departs, the body dies.

The human body is governed by one Shen, and yet within the body there are also thirty-six thousand shen. At the point of death, these shen reunite into a single Shen and then depart. One Shen dwells within the body and governs the entire body; within this whole there are again many shen. Birds and beasts likewise each have their shen, but the number of numinous spirits in a human being is more complete. The greater and lesser numbers of shen differ in this way, and the clarity and turbidity of Qi also differ. The conditions that are received vary in countless ways, and therefore the myriad things each differ from one another. Grasses and trees are generated by Qi alone and are not formed by Shen; therefore they have neither consciousness nor cognition, and thus have no karma produced by the fabrications of consciousness.

The Benji Jing says: “By reading and reciting this scripture, one can obtain salvation, and Shen ascends into the Southern Palace.” The Duren Jing says: “Even if the hun-soul and Shen temporarily disperse, one does not pass through the hells, but can obtain a bodily form once more.” The scripture also says that the secluded souls of ancestors through hundreds of millions of generations can all obtain salvation. This shows that when a person who cultivates goodness dies, the numinous spirit returns to a good path; those who benefit are not oneself alone, but also kin and ancestors.

The Dajie Jing says: “When mind and Shen are disturbed, craving and desire arise and throw a person into confusion.” The Benji Jing says: “One who harms many living beings has, after death, Shen leave the body and cycles through the three paths (the three places of suffering: the hells, hungry ghosts, and animals).” This shows that those who do evil receive painful retribution through the numinous spirit.

The Shengxuan Jing says: “The hidden depths communicate with emptiness and non-being, and numinous illumination shines clearly within the xiyi (the subtle realm that is hard to perceive).” The Yebao Jing says: “Quiet the mind and its deliberations, so that Shen returns to the Great Dao.” The Nanhua Jing says: “Leave behind bodily form and discriminating knowledge, and one communicates with the Great Dao.” The Benji Jing says: “Things cannot be forced to happen, nor can one say that they ought not to happen; therefore this is called ziran (spontaneity).” To awaken to this true nature is called awakening to the Dao. If a deluded person can penetrate numinous illumination and awaken to their own nature, they can shed shallow and limited spirit-consciousness and, by means of Shen, return to the Great Dao.

Spoken of in relation to things that accord with their own natures, the Dao amounts only to a difference of names. The nature of fire suits it to dryness; the nature of water suits it to moisture. These are the respective natures of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), not the nature of the supreme Dao. As it is with the Five Phases, so the myriad things may all be understood by the same kind of reasoning. Although the myriad things have what they share in common, each also has subtle differences. Therefore, lifeless things each have the nature of their kind, and living things each have their conditions and innate endowment; the supreme Dao, empty, penetrating, and unobstructed, is called “wondrous nature.”

The Benxiang Jing says: “Cherish Shen and nourish Qi, and one can attain long life.” The Yebao Jing says: “Refine Qi so as to transform the bodily form, and turn Shen so that it returns to the Dao.” The Xisheng Jing says: “One is of the same substance as the Dao, yet has no fixed form.” These sayings show that bodily form and Qi are cultivated together, transformed so as to become Shen, and Shen is then returned to the Dao, becoming one in spirit with the Dao. In this way one can contain the myriad phenomena, and Shen can also govern the entire body.

Shen receives its endowment from the Dao and thereby possesses numinous nature; the myriad things receive their endowment from Shen and thereby possess awareness. The Dao is limpid and bright as one; its wondrous substance is real and ever-abiding. Although Shen and Qi differ, both are functions of the Great Dao. Qi has no limit, yet Shen undergoes change and transfer; Shen is numinous while Qi itself is not; Qi is vast while Shen is not vast; Qi has clarity and turbidity, and Shen has flourishing and decline. Only the Great Dao is limpid, bright, and ever-abiding.

Therefore, broad learning and the increase of what one has seen and heard can advance cognition; guarding true nature and refining Qi can augment numinous illumination. When numinous illumination grows, one can penetrate the source that depends on nothing; when cognition grows, the employment of purposive action (youwei) is strengthened. Purposive action comes to an end; Wuwei is endless and inexhaustible. It is a pity that many people do not understand the subtlety in this.

The “Three Categories of Dharma Practice” in the Shengxuan Jing says that this rule of the three categories is the consistent norm of scriptural teaching. Through measureless ages it does not change, and the myriad sages cannot alter it otherwise. The three categories are divided into the superior practitioner, the middling practitioner, and the inferior practitioner; the “Three Vehicles” spoken of at the end of the chapter are precisely these three kinds of practitioners, and do not refer to anything else. Here “shi” means a person engaged in cultivation. The “supreme practitioner” cultivates with a single-minded heart, vows that the Dao will certainly be attained, and perseveres to the end; in principle such a person will not abandon the work halfway. “Shi” means one who is able to bring the work of cultivation to completion; “vehicle” is the way that carries and guides the practitioner forward. Briefly put:

Superior cultivators of the Dao (the Way) open wide the gate of practice. They think of others first and of themselves only afterward; they deliver rulers and sacrifice themselves to rescue all beings. Their benevolence reaches birds and beasts, and their kindness covers every living thing. They revere their teachers and elders and uphold the scriptures and the methods, always as careful as if they stood before the gods. They keep prolonged fasts, concentrate their thought, and carefully study the Way of Dongxuan (one of the Three Caverns).

They also expel the old and draw in the new—regulating body and mind through the breath—so that the mind is free of stray thoughts and the body is pure, quiet, and simple. They apply themselves with full attention while the breath remains gentle, and thus both humans and spirits are encouraged. Cultivating in this way, they pass through the transformations of life and death without ever withdrawing their resolve, and so they can become superior immortals.

The cultivation of the Dao has four essentials. The first is “practice,” the second “vow,” the third “compassion,” and the fourth “mercy.” Practice includes observance of the one hundred and eighty precepts and the two hundred and forty forms of dignified conduct—the norms of behavior a cultivator should follow—together with every good deed that restrains body, speech, and mind. Vow refers to the twelve superior vows, and compassion to the forty-five kinds of mindful regard. All of these appear in the Dongxuan Lingbao Jing (scripture).

Teaching each according to capacity and using skillful means to deliver beings also belong to mercy: emperors, kings, and nobles are delivered through the Golden Register ritual, ancestors through the Yellow Register ritual, and all beings through the Way of the natural. Practice takes the cutting off of evil deeds as its root; vow takes the seeking of the mysterious realm as its covenant; compassion shelters the myriad things with De (Virtue/Power); and mercy takes as its wish the relief of the sufferings of beings. Once these four essentials of cultivation are established, one kind of karmic retribution can be severed.

Cultivators of the middle rank turn their hearts toward the mysterious Dao, hoping to deliver all beings and to rescue those who meet with calamity. The final section of the original text repeats the earlier explanation of practice, vow, compassion, and mercy, and says that once the four essentials of cultivation are established, one kind of karmic retribution can be severed.

Adepts of the middle grade (those whose level of cultivation stands in the middle) set their will on revering the mysterious and wondrous Great Dao (the Way). They are willing to deliver all beings, rescue those in peril, and relieve hardship, and to repay the kindness they have received with the merit of their own deeds. They establish a foundation for cultivating the Dao and accumulating blessings; they serve their ruler and their parents with loyalty and filial piety; their natures are gentle and wise, and their hearts hold benevolence. Humble as they turn toward the Dao, they love to read numinous scriptures (Jing).

They neither crave being well fed nor resent clothing that is thin and cold, and they strive to be furnished with every kind of good conduct. Through cultivation they eliminate the three karmic obstacles and obtain the three good fruits, and are thereby admitted into the ranks of the Perfected of the Nine Palaces, practicing the Supreme Dao of Jade Clarity (the higher realm of cultivation spoken of in Daoism).

They conduct themselves with caution, observe the three hundred great precepts, recite the thirty-nine chapters of the Dadong Jing (Great Cavern Scripture), and contemplate the method of the Three Ones (a visualization practice of meditating on three places in the body related to the primordial Shen (spirit)). Observing the precepts can cut off evil deeds, so that the Five Paths (the roads of transmigration for sentient beings) no longer correspond to them; reciting scripture can quiet the Shen and keep mind and spirit from chasing outward; and the contemplative visualization of the “One” (the practice of concentrating the Shen and guarding the One) can render the mind empty and luminous.

Once the mind is plain and settled, one can, like a bright mirror, reflect the ultimate Dao, rise into the realm of Wuwei (non-action), and from then on sever the karmic recompense of the secular world.

Cultivators of the lower grade must cut off passion and desire and restrain their craving for sensual beauty, preserving the spirit through practices of ingestion and careful nurturing. They willingly abandon a life of splendor and beauty, dwell in mountains and forests, delight in hills and waters, and keep to a plain and self-contained life. They abstain from grain and give up ordinary food, observing the fast for a long time and remaining mindful of the Dao (the Way). When they sit upright, it is as if they were face to face with their teacher; when they come and go through the wild hills, they take birds and beasts as companions. They walk alone among steep cliffs and sleep alone in empty mountains. They adorn their appearance with cypress boughs; their faces show the gauntness of hunger, yet within they are as steadfast as if they treasured an elixir. When put to the test they are not afraid; their spirit is settled and their minds are at peace.

Such cultivation can bring a response from the Void Sovereign (Xuhuang, the supreme deity revered in Daoism). Through many cycles of birth and cessation they do not change their resolve, and in the end they may gain the power of transformation, ride the clouds in flight, travel the Five Marchmounts (Wuyue, the five great mountains of China), and roam freely in the Great Void (Taiwu, the vast realm of emptiness). If they continue to advance, they can take their place among the high immortals. This method is the same as the Dao of Jade Clarity (Yuqing) practiced by cultivators of the middle grade.

The scriptures (jing) say that the so-called “method of contemplating the Six Penetrations” (Liutong) is to observe the five colors, the five sounds, the five flavors, the five fragrances, the five kinds of wealth, and such things as splendid ornament, and to recognize that all of these disturb human nature. The scriptures also say that the penetrating sight of Heaven, the penetrating hearing of Earth, the penetrating emptiness of the East, the penetrating void of the West, the penetrating clarity of the South, and the penetrating subtlety of the North are together called the Six Penetrations. When wisdom is fully opened and contemplation of the Dao is accomplished, one can cast off countless worldly entanglements; when those entanglements are entirely cut off, this is called the “Six Penetrations.”

The Scripture of the Immortals says: the eye of wisdom, the ear of wisdom, the nose of wisdom, the mouth of wisdom, the body of wisdom, and the mind of wisdom are all gateways for entering the Dao of Xiyi (a pure, still, faint realm of the Dao that is difficult to perceive) and for passing beyond the Three Realms (Sanjie: the realm of desire, the realm of form, and the formless realm). To recognize that all things are empty is called the Six Penetrations.

The Scripture of the Three Realms says: keeping the precepts is the foundation of fasting and earnest cultivation; purity and stillness are the root of single-minded contemplation of the Dao. Single-minded contemplation of the Dao is the path by which true spirits are moved to descend, and the descent of true spirits is the means by which one ascends the Dao and becomes an immortal.

The scriptures say that the essentials of the Three Treasures (Sanbao, usually the Dao, the scriptures, and the teacher) reside in the heart, while the adept of the Three Treasures is at one’s side. “Side” (bian) carries the senses of something to rely upon and of change. If one holds the Three Treasures in mind, practices their Dao in one’s conduct, turns from error back to what is right, accumulates goodness and establishes merit, and brings De (Virtue/Power) to fullness, one can reach the ultimate of the root and enter the realm of the Limitless (Wuji). One can also guide others and help those with aspiration to walk the correct Way.

The scriptures say that when the spirit is guarded within the body and primordial Qi (vital energy) endures, this is the Dao of long life and lasting vision. Qi takes emptiness as its fundamental substance and acts through bodily form and visible appearance; Jing (essence) takes the deep and unfathomable as its fundamental substance and acts through light and sound; Shen (spirit) takes the subtle and ineffable as its fundamental substance and acts through transformation.

The scriptures say: “What cannot be seen is called yi; what cannot be heard is called xi; what cannot be grasped is called wei.” This speaks of the principle by which Shen, Qi, and Jing unite as one: the three blend into one, and from the one they may again divide into two. The “one” here refers to the body of the Dao, which is without form or image; the “one that is not one” means that, although it is not “one” in the ordinary sense, it may still be called the True One (Zhenyi).