《六根归道篇》

Stabilize the six roots—eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind—and return them to the Dao (the Way). Secure the foundation, understand the principle of constancy, and hold fast to purity and stillness; only then can the true primordial vitality (Zhenyuan, a person’s innate vital energy of life) be nourished. Make the mind empty, still, and peaceful, cultivate a tranquil and plain disposition, cease clever contrivance and restless agitation, and wash away worldly stray thoughts; only then can the great Dao extend through body and mind.

Thus, those in ancient times who kept the Dao did not set their hearts on the glory of high office and noble rank, nor did they crave abundant and exquisite food and drink. They rose above worldly concerns and calmly experienced the profound and mysterious realm. For such people, what Dao could they fail to nurture, and what subtle principle could they fail to establish?

Regrettably, people of later ages mostly cling only to middling insight and conduct, their minds forever preoccupied with life and death. On the one hand they cling to life, yet they do not devote themselves to nurturing it; on the other they loathe death, yet they do not consider how to avoid it. Therefore, distress and danger soon arrive, and unforeseen changes may occur at any moment. Although they have the notion of conserving, nourishing, and cultivating themselves, they lack the resolve to persist in practice; although they long for transcendence and ascension, they have no real hope of truly attaining it. How do such people differ from ordinary persons busy with the dusty world? Hence, though many study the Dao today, few truly attain the Dao.

Since I harbor a sincere and reverent heart turned toward the Dao, I ought to speak out and exhort everyone: what matters is single-minded purity and genuine practice; do not abandon the way halfway.

The scripture (Jing) says: If one wishes to keep the Dao, one must first keep one’s own mind. The mind can move, and it can also be still, and it can also give rise to… (Here the original text appears to contain an omission or corruption, and the sense of the sentence is incomplete.)

To cultivate and guard the Great Dao (the Way), one must first guard one’s own mind. The mind may be restless, or it may be still; it may lead a person toward goodness, or it may cause one to sink into ruin, and its changes are hard to predict. It is like a monkey racing toward deviant pleasures, difficult to keep in check; it is also like five thieves, enough to steal away a person’s true master (the inner authenticity). If it is not restrained by the Dao, one will drift ever farther from the Dao.

The Chongxu Jing (a Daoist scripture) says that the mind is the hidden and mysterious master, in communion with the Great Dao. Therefore, those who cultivate the Dao should first guard the mind. When the mind is held securely, thoughts do not fall into disorder; once it is brought under guidance, it obeys one’s own direction.

Mind and intention govern both the inner and the outer, and must not be left unguarded. One should therefore straighten one’s bearing, restrain the desires of the body, discipline oneself, and let one’s conduct accord with ritual propriety, and so reach the condition of the gentleman. In advancing and withdrawing one keeps due measure and does not go beyond the integrity of the worthy; arrogance and indolence are then checked, and one does not deceive one’s own body and mind. Otherwise, why did Confucius say, “When one’s own person is upright, affairs are carried out even without commands being issued”? If even the governing of others requires that one first be upright in oneself, how much more does the cultivation of the Great Dao? Thus one first guards the mind, and then guards the body.

When the mind is upright within and the body is upright without, one must next be careful about seeing and hearing. One should avoid turmoil and empty show, and treat sounds and sights with caution. Let the five colors each return to their proper course, and deviant colors cannot disturb the eyes; let the five sounds accord with due measure, and licentious sounds cannot disturb the ears. In this way, crimson and purple cannot pass themselves off as the correct colors, nor can the music of Zheng and Wei disrupt elegant, orthodox music. When the eyes and ears receive fitting nourishment, they are not seduced by external things and do not lose their original authenticity.

Why did Boyi (a worthy of the late Shang and early Zhou) refuse to look upon evil sights or listen to licentious sounds? Even the pure and upright conduct themselves in this way—how much more those who cultivate the Dao? Therefore the ears and eyes, too, ought to be guarded.

Once seeing and hearing are securely guarded, one must also be careful with smells and diet. Fragrant scents do not necessarily nourish one’s nature, and simple, plain fare is enough to sustain the body. Faced with the five flavors, one should hold to plainness; faced with all kinds of fragrances, one need not become enthralled. When the mind within is empty, still, and unattached, the nose and tongue do not become a source of harm. Smells and tastes, too, ought to be kept within bounds. Otherwise, why did the ancients say that wallowing in foul odors damages original authenticity, while craving sweetness and richness spoils Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy)? Even ordinary people know how to exercise restraint—how much more those who cultivate the Dao? Therefore the nose and tongue must not be indulged.

When each of the above is kept within its proper place, the six roots (eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind) can be settled, and the Great Dao can thereby endure. When the inner mind is not driven by desire and the outer life is not pulled about by affairs, one can rest at ease in the realm of mystery and subtlety, and wander freely in the wondrous Dao: afflictions do not intrude upon the Three Realms in which one dwells, and thoughts do not disorder the inner Shen (spirit); the cultivation of elixir methods can proceed in due order without error, and true nature is not disturbed by precious external things. From this one practices the Dao of Wuwei (non-action) and reaches the other shore; one accumulates merit and practice and enters the immortal realm of mist and rose-tinted clouds. That the six roots turn toward the Great Dao is no small matter; the crux lies in whether a person can hold fast.