《大道论》

The substance of the Great Dao (the Way) is utterly empty and utterly still, and it possesses a nature that is real and eternally unchanging. It presides over the five Qi (vital energy)—the five kinds of Qi that constitute heaven, earth, and the myriad things—and transforms and gives birth to the Three Powers (heaven, earth, and humankind); it disperses the single original true Qi and thereby generates the myriad things. Its parting and joining have no limit. It is the root of heaven, earth, and all things, transcending spirits and deities, and it cannot be encompassed by intention or by image. It has no fixed name or form. It has both a side that operates and changes and a side that is constant and unchanging. It goes beyond all concepts and inferences, and it cannot be made plain by words or by metaphor.

The Nanhua Zhenjing (the Zhuangzi) says: the Dao lies outside the Great Void, yet is not on that account high; it lies within the four directions of heaven and earth, yet is not on that account deep. The things of the world are born and perish, but the Dao has neither birth nor perishing; things change, but the Dao does not change. The Yi says that “Dao” is a name given to emptiness. Emptiness is able to penetrate all things, and so it is called the Dao; of the myriad things, none is not born from it, and none is not in communion with it.

The Dao is the mother, and De (Virtue/Power) is the child. The Wuhuo Baojing says that the meaning of the Dao is to penetrate all things, while the merit of De is to bring things to accomplishment without loss. The Xisheng Jing says that the Dao is remote, profound, and mysterious; it also says that the supreme Dao is deep and subtle, and one who truly understands it will not speak of it in words. Even if water and fire burn and destroy the myriad things, the Great Dao remains real and constant, unmoved; even if the fundamental order of heaven and earth collapses, the Great Dao remains clear and silent, settled and unchanged. Zhuangzi calculated the numerical principles of the transformations of the myriad things and, after five years, still could not exhaust them; he inquired into the transformations of Yin-Yang and only after twelve years attained some grasp of them, and therefore he called it the “supreme Dao.”

The Dao possesses the virtue of penetrating all things and bringing them into being, and this is why it is so. Zhuangzi calculated the numerical principles of the transformations of the myriad things and, after five years, still could not exhaust them; he inquired into the transformations of Yin-Yang and only after twelve years attained some grasp of them, and therefore he called it the “supreme Dao.”

The Dao (the Way) has the merit of pervading all things and of bringing all things into being through transformation, and is therefore called “Supreme De” (the highest Virtue/Power). The sage says that because it can pervade all things and bring them into being through transformation, it is called the “Dao”; because it embraces everything, it is called the “Great.”

There is also another explanation. “Emptiness” (xuwu) refers to the original substance of the wondrous root (miaoben)—the root of all things—because it is not a concrete material thing; “naturalness” (ziran) refers to the inherent nature of the wondrous root, because it is not something artificially contrived; and the “Dao” refers to the function of the wondrous root, and is therefore called the Dao that pervades all things and brings them into being through transformation. These three—“Emptiness,” “naturalness,” and the “Dao”—are all the true nature of the wondrous root. The accounts above show, from different aspects, that the principle has only a single source.

The Great Dao unfolds the original, plain Qi (vital energy) and holds together heaven, earth, and the four directions; it disperses primordial Jing (essence)—the fundamental vital essence of the cosmos—so that the myriad phenomena move and take their places. As primordial Qi begins to manifest, the Three Powers of heaven, earth, and humanity differentiate from it; the four seasons begin their course, and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) flourish in turn. Heaven and earth are charged with covering and supporting, the sun and moon with shining, wind and rain with nourishing the myriad things, and clouds and thunder with spreading awe. Humans and beasts differ in clarity and turbidity, and seas and mountains differ in height and depth. The myriad things gather by kind and divide into groups, and their wisdom and natural endowments also differ. Those who follow the Dao can cultivate themselves into Perfected Persons and realize the realm of sagehood; those who turn away from the Dao move toward death and sink into the cycle of birth and death. All of this is ascribed to the supreme merit of the Great Dao in pervading all things and bringing them into being through transformation.

Zhuangzi says that “De” means “to attain.” The myriad things live because they have attained the Dao, and this is called “De.” De is the function of the Dao, and the Dao is the substance of De. The Great Dao pervades the myriad phenomena and brings them into being through transformation; the workings of creation sometimes act and sometimes do not act. Supreme De, however, is Wuwei (non-action), and yet nothing is left undone.

The Record of the Dao of Lord Lao says: “Penetrate the One, and all affairs become clear; act without a calculating mind, and even ghosts and spirits will reverently submit.” What pervades heaven and earth is De; what moves through the myriad things is the Dao. What is most far-reaching in the world is the Dao. The myriad things are what is brought into being; De is the power capable of bringing them into being. If there were no myriad things to serve as what is brought into being, De as a generative power could not become manifest.

The Scripture of Great Peace says that De has three levels of meaning: De means mutual accord and correspondence; completion means bringing the myriad things to fulfillment and assisting them; and not-losing means not being lost. Taken together, these three are the meaning of Dao and De set out above.

Heaven and earth receive the nourishment of Dao and De; Yin-Yang depends on it in its operation; the Five Phases are thereby able to generate one another; and the four seasons thereby succeed one another in due order. Kings and marquises govern and educate by means of it; teachers and friends instruct and guide by means of it. Even sages, Perfected Persons, immortals, ghosts and spirits, and every kind of animal and plant exist by relying on the wondrous function of Supreme De. That is to say, the Dao gives Yin-Yang something on which to depend, enables the Five Phases to generate one another and the four seasons to proceed in order, and extends its benefit even to the myriad kinds of beings. The Dao has a true and trustworthy inner order, and can therefore be called “Supreme De.”

In high antiquity there was no distinct doctrine of teaching and transformation; such teaching arose only from the time of the Three Sovereigns and the Five Emperors. “To teach” means to inform and to instruct. Teaching and transformation include words, principles, and meaning, and also transmission and reception: words serve to proclaim, while teaching serves to inform. Through words, people apprehend the teaching; through the teaching, they come to understand the principle. Once the principle is understood, they no longer cling to words. Since there are those who give instruction and those who receive it, there are teachers and students.

Teaching may be broadly divided into five kinds: the teaching of the Natural, the teaching of Divine Luminosity, the teaching of orthodox truth, the teaching of returning the worldly, and the teaching that instructs the age. All five originate in the one true Dao (the Way). Among them, some are expedient teachings and some are true teachings.

The teaching of the Natural refers to the state before primordial Qi (vital energy)—the original breath prior to the formation of heaven and earth—had yet appeared, and before pure simplicity had dispersed. All was then profound and still, vast and empty. There was no teacher to expound a teaching and no student to receive a transmission; there was no beginning or end, and neither principles nor words. From this, primordial Qi arose and transformed; from this, Divine Luminosity carried out creation; from this, heaven and earth covered and supported the myriad things; and from this, the sun and moon shone and coursed. The rulers of high antiquity, having attained the Dao, followed what is naturally so and governed by Wuwei (non-action). This is teaching without spoken instruction.

The teaching of Divine Luminosity refers to the manifestation of Divine Luminosity after pure simplicity had differentiated. Heaven and earth are the greatest of vessels, and Divine Luminosity possesses the greatest power. It harmonizes primordial Qi and sets it circulating everywhere; grasping the supreme Dao, it arranges and brings the myriad things to completion. It causes clear Qi to rise and form heaven, and turbid Qi to condense and form earth; and with its vast spiritual nature it transforms and nurtures the world, harmonizes the breaths, and establishes the order of human relations. Even Yin-Yang cannot fathom the changes of its rise and decline, and ghosts and spirits do not understand its transformations.

The teaching of orthodox truth takes the Unsurpassed Sovereign of the Void as its teacher and was transmitted by the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning; its profound and pure contents are secretly preserved in the Nine Heavens. Its orthodox teaching was spread by the sages of successive ages. In heaven, the Celestial Worthy propagated the True Vehicle (the true teaching-gate of Daoism) throughout the many heavens of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), disclosing the stages of attaining immortality. In the human world, Fuxi received the River Chart, Xuanyuan received the talismanic mandate, Gaoxin received the celestial Jing (scripture), and Yu of Xia received the Luo Writing. The four sage-kings received the revelation of Divine Luminosity, and the Five Elders further appeared beside the river; thus there came to be such classics as the Three Tombs and the Five Canons, which set forth the constant Dao.

The teaching of returning the worldly is that the Great Sage of Mysterious Origin, in the age of Emperor Shun, ordered the state and the household. He widely transmitted numinous writings and true instructions to the human world, and also proclaimed golden slips and jade chapters in heaven, hoping that both heaven and the human realm might return to pure simplicity and once more accord with the teaching of the ancient sage-kings.

The teaching that instructs the age is that Confucius, grieved by the decline of Dao and De (Virtue/Power), expounded humaneness and righteousness in order to transform the customs of his time. With ritual propriety and wisdom he sought to remedy the roots of calamity and disorder. Yet the ethos of sincere simplicity had already passed away, and an ethos of showy superficiality began to prevail.

Alas, teaching springs from the sage’s intention to rescue the people of the world and to have compassion for the myriad things. When living beings comprehend the teaching, their hearts come into communion with the heart of the sage. Upon reaching communion with the sage’s heart, the distinction between the expedient and the true disappears, and words and explanations are no longer needed. Only then does one truly accord with the wordless teaching, and even the images formed by language and thought cease to exist.

The Great Dao (the Way) said to the practitioner: “Let me tell you this, for the time being. Do not regard me as a person who belongs to a clan. I have no place of birth and no clan surname, and so I have no kin. Do not give me a name. On account of the De (Virtue/Power) by which I bring the myriad things to growth, one may provisionally call me ‘Dao.’ I am hidden and do not show myself; people do not know my fundamental being, and so they can only give me a courtesy designation, calling me ‘Dao,’ and cannot confer on me a formal name.

Do not measure me by honor and lowliness. I occupy a humble station and, like the earth, do not esteem myself as noble; yet those who submit to me and revere the Dao and De are not lowly. Do not look at me with the eyes, and do not listen to me with the ears: I am not a formed object of sight (a visible thing), and so I cannot be seen; nor am I a sounding object of hearing, and so I cannot be heard.

Do not slander me or praise me. I have no fault, so there is no ground for slander; nor do I boast of myself, so there is no ground for praise. Do not say that I receive benefit or suffer harm. I have no desire, and therefore cannot gain profit thereby; I nurture and transform the myriad things, and the myriad things cannot injure me. Do not judge me by right and wrong. I neither follow the ways of the world nor stand at odds with the myriad things, and so there is no worldly so-called ‘right’; I can clear away every kind of fault and affliction, and so there is also no so-called ‘wrong.’

Do not say that I go against or go along with anything. To depart from worldly views makes me seem not to accord; yet I accord with the Dao of Heaven and do not oppose it. Do not say that I am high or low: I take the earth as my model, and so I dwell below and am not high; I take the Dao of Heaven as my model, and so I am not low. Do not say that I am large or small: I can hold the tip of an autumn hair, and therefore I do not count as large; I coincide with Heaven and Earth, and therefore I do not count as small.

Do not say that I am empty or existent. I can act upon the myriad things, so I am not empty nothingness; I rest in Wuwei (non-action) and vacant stillness, so I am not solid existence either. Do not say that I am noble or mean. I do not boast of my achievements and only accord with Heaven’s mandate, and therefore I am not noble; yet I abide before Heaven and Earth came into being, and therefore I am not mean. Do not say that I am intelligent or foolish: I embrace plain simplicity and do not display wisdom; I hold De within, and so I am not foolish.

Do not say that I am before or after. I have no beginning, so there is no ‘before’; I have no end, so there is no ‘after.’ Do not say that I am still or in turmoil: the many powers of De appear and generate and transform the myriad things, so this is not stillness; the myriad things each gather and sort themselves into their kinds, and yet there is no disorder. Do not say that I obtain or lose anything: outside myself there is nothing to be gained; when the mind within accords with true nature, there is nothing lost.

Do not say that I love or hate. I have no aversion, so I do not hate; I have no partial preference, so I do not love. Do not say that I face toward or turn away from anything. I have no bodily form, so there is nothing I can face toward; I accord with the Dao, so I do not turn away. Do not say that I am favored or disgraced. I do not boast of merit and De, so there is no ground for favor; I have no arrogance or haughtiness, so there is no ground for disgrace.

Do not say that I am square or round. I have no boundaries, so I cannot be called square; I have no bodily form, so I cannot be called round. Do not say that I am bright or dark. I seem dim and unclear, yet I dwell above and am not covered over; I can see what is minute, and so I may also be called bright; dwelling below, I am not in darkness either. Do not say that I am new or old. I have no beginning, so there is no so-called new; I have no ending, so there is no so-called old.

Do not say that I advance or retreat. I do not advance into empty nothingness, nor retreat to take refuge in solid existence; I do not advance on account of superior practitioners, nor retreat on account of inferior practitioners. If the practitioner can be like this, I too am like this, and between us there is no distinction.

You who study the Dao! You who study the Dao! I fear that you will cling to metaphors and to conceptual distinctions, and so lose the nature of the Dao; I also fear that living beings will cling to the teachings, be bound by the wording and doctrinal sense of those teachings, and mistakenly take such statements to be real existence. The foolish do not understand that, once the illness is cured, the medicine ought to be set aside—just as, once the fish has been caught, one ought to discard the bamboo fish trap. If one clings to the teachings and is stuck on words and metaphors, one will lose the Dao that is empty, still, and harmonious, true and everlasting.”

Feelings, discernment, wisdom, and intention are all false distinctions that arise only after one has left the great Dao (the Way). Outside the Dao there is no mind, and outside the mind there is no Dao; the mind is the Dao, and the Dao is the mind. The same is true of feeling, cognition, wisdom, intention, and knowing.

One must remove the mind that wants to awaken to the Dao, cut off the thought that clings to “knowing the Dao,” and set aside the wisdom that imagines it has realized the Dao, as well as the wisdom and thoughts that imagine one has already attained it. Forgetting knowing, intention, wisdom, cognition, and mind in this way, one no longer clings to seeking the Dao, moving toward the Dao, or learning the Dao, and is instead able to attain it. This is to remove the cultivator’s attachment to the traces of cultivation, and only then does one truly attain the Dao and attain the One. If one clings to the Dao or clings to the One, one is in fact farther from the Dao; if one can forget even the Dao and the One, one attains the Dao and attains the One.

“Substance” is of three kinds, and “generation” is of two. The first substance is the original substance inherent in oneself, which is the nature of the Dao. The second is the substance on which the myriad things depend. The third is to cultivate by emulating the nature of the Dao until one reaches the realm of Wuwei (non-action). Generation likewise has two kinds: one is the generation that can give rise to the myriad things, meaning that the Dao generates them; the other is being generated from the Dao, meaning that the myriad things come from it. Those who understand this will cultivate, and through cultivation they can become sages; those who are deluded do not cultivate and remain ordinary people. Yet only one who does not cling to the distinction between sage and ordinary person counts as awakened, while one who clings to that distinction is deluded. If one can see through the emptiness of both delusion and awakening, and also go beyond the distinction between sage and ordinary, one can transcend form and emptiness, the expedient and the real, verbal teaching, mutual opposition, distinctions of bodily form, and being and non-being, and truly attain the Dao.

The Dao cannot be expressed by language and wisdom themselves; one can only use language and wisdom to bring people into accord with what is natural. De (Virtue/Power) is not produced by deliberate contrivance, yet through purposeful action it can display its genuine function. Therefore the Jing (scripture/classic) sets out twenty-four gates of method, so as to gather in the five sensory portals and keep one from being drawn along by external conditions.

The Gate of Clear Illumination and Deep Stillness makes the inner mind lucid and profoundly still. The substance of the Dao is empty to the utmost, clear and at peace, illuminating the myriad things without partiality, deep and subtle yet able to respond of itself.

The Gate of Heaven and the Sage without a Private Mind: Heaven and Earth have no partiality; they cover and support the myriad things and bring them to growth according to the seasons. The sage likewise does not act from a private mind, but teaches the people and brings the world to peace and order.

The Gate of Empty Response Running Through All: the great Dao has no mind of its own, yet it can run through the myriad things. Naturally clear and still, it clings neither to being nor to non-being.

The Gate of Spirit-like Inexhaustibility: the mysterious Dao is clear and still yet efficacious. It responds to the myriad things in no fixed way and never ceases, and its function is wondrous and without end.

The Gate of Deep Stillness and Growth: the myriad things are born from the Dao and grow by relying on natural transformation.

The Gate of Humble Softness Aiding Beings: one who cultivates the Dao should be yielding, soft, and humble, sustaining oneself through De and continually aiding the myriad things.

The Gate of Single-minded Not-Knowing: one guards empty stillness and the Qi (vital energy) of central harmony, and is not led by worldly trifles into discriminating and calculating.

The Gate of Being and Non-being Mutually Supporting Each Other: emptiness becomes apparent by means of form, and form is established by relying on emptiness; being and non-being depend on each other and bring each other to completion. The myriad appearances of Heaven, Earth, people, and things belong to the “being” of formed substance, while the function of the Dao belongs to “non-being.”

The Gate of Losing the True and Chasing Outer Conditions: worldly people only crave secular learning and cling to purposeful affairs, and so they lose their original truth and sink into the realm of sound and sight.

The Gate of Embracing, Containing, and Holding Firm: one holds to the great Dao and maintains breadth, softness, and stillness, guarding one’s original truth like an infant and containing the myriad things like a valley stream.

The Gate of Maimed Form and Failure to Understand: showing off cleverness and merit is like being incomplete and maimed. Lost in darkness and obscurity, one therefore cannot understand the principle.

The Gate of Four Methods Sharing One Metaphor: the scripture uses four situations as metaphors to show that the cultivator should be cautious and modest, contain the myriad things, and remain clean, calm, and silent.

The Gate of Not Making Oneself Lord and Master: the kings of old governed the world with simple, generous, and impartial De, and the people of the world came of themselves. The cultivator should neither boast of understanding the Dao and De nor cling to the thought that “I am the one who accomplished this.”

The Gate of Not Displaying Expedient Cunning: the expedient methods a ruler uses to govern the state should not be lightly shown to those who do not understand them. If others take them up to practice deceit and arbitrarily harm people, calamity will follow.

The Gate of Not Priding Oneself on Instruments and Their Use: the kings of old did not flaunt civil accomplishment or military merit, nor did they exalt themselves; their persons accorded with the great Dao and their minds accorded with Wuwei.

The Gate of Abiding in the Center and Not Esteeming Extremes: one clings neither to “there being nothing at all” nor to the dusty conditions of the world, falling neither into inert emptiness nor into the pursuit of one-sided extremes.

The Gate of Probing and Securing the Root Nature: if one deeply guards one’s original nature so that Shen (spirit) and Qi do not scatter, one can leave craving and desire behind and obtain long life.

The Gate of Ordering Transformation without Disturbance: in governing a state, if punishments and decrees are numerous, the people will scatter; if one holds to pure unity, the people become simple. Disorder is the source of calamity, and simplicity is the root of peace. The scripture uses the metaphor “when cooking a small fish, do not keep stirring it” to show that governing should not intervene too much.

The Gate of Pointing to Things to Reveal De: merely launching projects and acting with purpose is not as good as becoming still and returning to non-doing. Fine horses and beautiful jade, though precious, are not equal to grasping the fundamental measures of the state and its great vessel.

The Gate of Accumulating the Manifest from the Minute: cultivating the great Dao begins from what is subtle, and with time results can be seen; nourishing life over a long period, one may hope to ascend to the realm of the immortals.

The Gate of Humility Below Completing What Is Great: when one governs the state by remaining humble and low, the people gladly support and turn toward one, and great undertakings can thus be accomplished.

The Gate of Cultivating the Person and Treasuring De: the scripture says that compassion, frugality, and humility are the root of cultivating the person and nourishing De. Greed, cruelty, and flattery bring calamity and may even injure one’s own person, so one should treasure De.

The Gate of the Skilled Artisan Who Does No Harm: for a ruler to carry out punishments is not as good as according with the movement of the Heavenly Dao through the four seasons. If one takes the place of the Heavenly Dao and recklessly kills, one must fear doing excessive harm. The working of the Heavenly Dao is subtle and precise, and does not readily go wrong as clumsy human handling does.

The Gate of the Heavenly Dao’s Level and Universal Way: the Heavenly Dao presses down what is high and raises what is low, aids the weak and restrains the overbearing, brings calamity to the unrestrained and blessing to the humble, and reduces what is excessive while supplying what is insufficient.

What is called “closing the five doors” means carefully drawing inward and abandoning attachments to clever knowing, humaneness and righteousness, ritual and law, contrivance, and greed for profit.

The sage wishes to clarify principle through language, and only for that reason distinguishes among various ways of speaking. Yet the sage’s words are speech that accords with what is real, while the words of ordinary people inevitably mix in what is false and empty. Thus there arise advancing and retreating, doubt and difference, and also such expressions as choosing and rejecting, guarding against, and eliminating.

Seen from the fundamental reality of the Dao (the Way), there is originally neither delusion nor awakening: in what is called awakening, there is nothing one can cling to as “awakening”; in what is called laughable, there is nothing one can cling to as “laughable.” Going forward does not necessarily mean that anything has been gained, and drawing back does not necessarily mean that anything has been lost. Only one who does not divide sentient beings into three grades is truly a superior adept (a high-level practitioner who has succeeded in cultivation).

Some can realize the principle close at hand, turn confusion into awakening, draw near the Dao, and learn to cultivate. Some understand that “the Dao is near at one’s side,” yet do not truly draw near it: they often speak of the teaching of Wuwei (non-action), yet do not practice the conduct of Wuwei. This is knowing that the Dao is near without drawing near the Dao. Some, though close to the Dao, do not know that the Dao is right before their eyes. Bewildered by worldly circumstances, they cannot awaken to the original source, nor do they understand that the principle of utmost mystery lies within the dusty world.

Some do not know what is meant by “far”: although they have already awakened to a profound and far-reaching principle, they do not cling to its depth and distance; that principle does not become an obstruction in the mind, and so they do not feel it to be remote. There are also those who know the profound principle and understand that all sentient beings possess a profound nature. With a body of responsive manifestation (a form that appears according to conditions in order to teach sentient beings), they expound the great Dao and benefit others, in accord with that profound principle.

Though cultivation has continued for a long time, one has not truly arrived at the supreme realm, because one still takes the “supreme realm” as an object pursued in the mind and has not yet reached the utmost point of emptiness and stillness. Some do not know how to cultivate because they do not understand the teaching and have no guide to instruct them; some do not know how to arrive because they do not understand the gateway leading to the ultimate realm and do not know where to begin. There are also those who, though cultivating and already close to the Dao, do not cling to the thought that they have once cultivated or arrived, but silently accord with the mysterious original source; this is not being intent upon “arrival.” After arrival, transformation occurs of itself: one attains true quiescence (a realm that is genuine and still), and the mysterious De (Virtue/Power), a profound and spontaneous moral power, becomes manifest within. Without relying on instruction or speech, one can still cause others to be moved in a natural and simple way.

Chapter on Employing the Dao

Employing the Dao (the Way) can regulate human conduct, while the working of the Dao can hold together the subtle and profoundly mysterious source. When attachment to the Dao is forgotten, De (Virtue/Power) manifests as Wuwei (non-action); through empty stillness and self-forgetting, one reaches the ultimate. What is called “De” means having obtained something, as if receiving a grace or kindness. People should model themselves on the Dao and on De, and accord with the workings of what is naturally so.

At birth, a person receives the primordial Qi (vital energy) generated by the transformation of the Great Dao, and the most refined Qi endows that person with spiritual awareness. The Three Origins—the three kinds of primordial Qi that constitute life—condense into Shen (spirit), and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) gather into Jing (essence). A person both receives a subtle bodily form and shares in the Wuwei function of primordial Qi. If one can preserve simplicity and empty stillness, nothing can go against one; holding to the vast image of the Great Dao, all things that have form will turn toward one.

Those who are one with the Dao and one with De are as soft and yielding as an infant. Dwelling in the Mysterious Female—the profound gateway symbolizing the source from which the myriad things are born and transformed—they can penetrate the mysterious. They do not treat mind and external circumstances as separate, nor do they distinguish life from death; together with Heaven and Earth they accord with what is naturally so, following the movement and stillness of Yin-Yang.

The rulers of high antiquity who governed the world by the Dao met things with an empty mind, brought benefit to all living beings, and transformed the people by means of the Dao. Their functions extended in all directions; they possessed the capacity to penetrate the myriad things, yet stood independent and reliant on nothing. They cast aside the pursuit of external sights and sounds and abandoned worldly cleverness and ingenuity. They did not bind people with elaborate doctrines and words, nor allow feeling to stagnate upon external things. They cultivated the root of the “Three-in-One”—a Daoist conception of cultivating the origin of life—so that life would take root in the true source; they cut away the shoots of the “Four and Six”—here referring to factors that sprout and spread like branching growth—and did not let them proliferate within the spiritual storehouse, the inner abode of the spirit. They neither boasted of great achievements and skills nor pursued argument over small accomplishments. The text below says: “Stillness is the correct way of the world.”

The Nanhua Jing (that is, the Zhuangzi) says: “The Dao has real substance and trustworthy confirmation, yet it is Wuwei and without form; it can be transmitted, yet it cannot be handed over as an object is; it can be realized and obtained, yet it cannot be seen with the eyes.” Thus Xiwei obtained the Dao and held Heaven and Earth together; Fuxi obtained the Dao and received the Mother of primordial Qi; the Yellow Emperor obtained the Dao and ascended into the cloudy heavens; Zhuanxu obtained the Dao and dwelt in the Mysterious Palace. As for Weidou, Kanmai, Yuqiang, Pengzu, and the others, they too attained the fruition of sagehood by obtaining the Dao and putting it to use.

From this it can be known that sages, divine persons, immortals, ghosts and spirits, together with Heaven and Earth, the sun and moon, the stars, and the myriad things, must all rely on the Dao in order to respond with numinous power and undergo transformation, to lighten the body and rise in flight, to remain subtle and profoundly hidden, to cover and to bear, to manifest themselves and shine upon the myriad things, and to bring the myriad things to growth. The Dao enables Heaven to cover, Earth to bear, and the sun and moon to shine. Whatever possesses a function receives that function from the Dao.

The Dao causes Heaven to appear clear, Earth to appear tranquil, the valleys to be full, and the myriad things to grow. Therefore both the functions and the names of the myriad things are conferred by the Dao. Precisely for this reason, human beings model themselves on Earth, Earth models itself on Heaven, Heaven models itself on the Dao, and the Dao models itself on what is naturally so.

The Chapter on the Two Learnings

From this it can be seen that worldly learning sometimes brings harm: if a person clings to external things and circumstances and comes to a standstill, they cannot enter the true realm, and this does not help in cultivating the Dao (the Way); it is therefore called “decrease.” Genuine cultivation is beneficial: it brings the mind into accord with the great Dao, so that one personally enters the profound and mysterious realm and does not remain in any clinging state of mind; it is therefore called “increase.”

At times, genuine cultivation may also be called “decrease”: the one who cultivates the Dao gradually carries out the practice of the Dao and removes defiling emotions and craving desires. This lessens emotion and desire, and so it is called “decrease.” At times, worldly learning can also bring benefit: by means of worldly teaching one gradually enters the true teaching, and thereby attains the Dao and awakens to the real. This is a movement from the worldly toward the real, and so it is called “increase.”

There is also the case in which oneself undergoes decrease while others receive increase: one enters the mysterious realm and gains a world-transcending insight; others, seeing this, also begin to cultivate and thereby attain the Dao, and so it is called “increase for others.” There is likewise the case in which others undergo decrease while oneself receives increase: seeing others cultivate and attain the Dao, one oneself practices diligently; when merit and practice are complete, one awakens to and accords with a still deeper mysterious realm, and so it is called “increase for oneself.”

It is difficult to return from “being” to “non-being,” but easy to enter “non-being” from “not-having.” The teaching of Wuwei (non-action) is therefore of great benefit. If the practitioner merely holds to “non-being” and forgets “being,” it is better to forget both “decrease” and “increase,” so that “being” and “non-being” dissolve together. One must grasp the fundamental purport. That purport lies in making nothing at all, while the mind within becomes greatly lucid; from this a profound transformation can be accomplished.

The Chapter on the Two Illnesses

For those who cultivate the Dao (the Way), what is called “having illness” or “having no illness” is a metaphor for whether or not there is deviation in practice. To understand emptiness—that the myriad things have no fixed, unchanging intrinsic nature—yet not remain lodged in the notion of emptiness, and not cling either to emptiness or to existence, is to be free of fault in practice. To understand emptiness yet stay within the notion of emptiness, taking emptiness as a real object, is a fault. Not to understand emptiness, and moreover to cling to existence or to emptiness, is also a fault. To understand emptiness yet not actually practice is to have understanding only, without practice, and this too is a fault; to understand emptiness and to practice cultivation is to possess both understanding and practice, and therefore to be without fault.

In cultivation one clings neither to emptiness nor to the very matter of “cultivating emptiness”: one first comprehends the principle of emptiness, then practices with single-minded attention, practices until one no longer deliberately practices, and finally reaches a state free of all clinging. Only this counts as possessing both understanding and practice, without fault in cultivation.

Faults in cultivating the Dao are deeper or shallower. Lingering in emptiness, or clinging to existence, are both relatively deep faults; both lingering in emptiness and clinging to existence makes the fault still deeper. Understanding emptiness yet not practicing is a relatively shallow fault. Those of higher capacity cultivate emptiness without clinging to emptiness, and their deviation is relatively shallow; those of middling capacity cultivate emptiness yet cling to emptiness, and their deviation is relatively deep.

Some people sink into empty stillness and yet still devote themselves to aiding the world; others comprehend the principle of emptiness, do not cling to emptiness, and at the same time rescue people. These situations differ from one another and cannot be treated as all the same. Those who have already clung to emptiness belong to the middling capacity.

The Chapter on Teachers and Disciples (the chapter discussing lineage transmission and the relationship between teachers and students).

The Daojing (the Classic of the Dao) says: “The good person is the teacher of the bad person, and the bad person is a lesson for the good person.” To serve as a teacher, one must have methods that can be followed and conduct that can be emulated, and one must also take the Dao (the Way), De (Virtue/Power), rites, and music as one’s foundation. One’s standing ranks immediately below the three most revered stations of ruler, father, and teacher.

A teacher possesses four good qualities: the Dao, De, wisdom, and humaneness. If a person has the Dao, that person can penetrate right principle; if a person has De, that person’s Shen (spirit) is clear and Qi (vital energy) upright; if a person has wisdom, that person can discern the opportune moment; if a person has a humane heart, that person can feel compassion for all things. Such a person may be called a teacher and elder. One who serves as a teacher is an elder and a sovereign; by cultivating the Dao and advancing in De, one can become a Zhenren (Perfected Person) and an immortal. How could such a person be merely a teacher who transmits learning? Such a person is also a precious talent of the state. Good people are truly rare.

A bad person can move others to pity and can also become a teacher and elder. One who serves as a teacher is an elder and a sovereign; by cultivating the Dao and advancing in De, one can become a Zhenren and an immortal. How could such a person be merely a teacher who transmits learning? Such a person is also a precious talent of the state. Good people are truly rare.

What is called a bad person has four evil traits: crookedness and delusion, confusion and muddle-headedness, craving for desire, and a lack of compassion. Not drawing near the teaching of the orthodox Dao, but instead pursuing only heterodox texts, is called “deviant delusion.” Rejecting those who have attained the Dao and associating with the dull and foolish is called “confused disorder.” Wallowing in the five dusts—the objects contacted by the senses, such as form, sound, scent, taste, and touch—and responding to the six thieves, the six sensory desires that disturb body and mind and draw a person into indulgence, is called “craving desire.” Lacking a heart that comforts the people of the world and cares for all things, and having a temperament as vicious as jiang poison, the owl, and the zhen-bird, is called “without compassion.” Such a person can serve as a lesson for the good person.

From this one can understand why transformative teaching flourishes or declines, and why the grasp of learning is sometimes difficult and sometimes easy. One is good at settling body and mind and glad to draw near worthy friends; one does not conceal learning and honors the teacher; one holds a caution as if standing at the edge of a deep abyss or treading on thin ice, and willingly bears diligent toil. If one can reach the highest realm and comprehend the principle of emptiness and stillness, one will forget both the bestowing of kindness and the receiving of affection, and dissolve the distinction between the inner mind and outer conditions. In that case, how could wordless transformative teaching be remote or hard to attain?

Why transformative teaching flourishes or declines, and why the grasp of learning is sometimes difficult and sometimes easy; being good at settling body and mind and glad to draw near worthy friends; not concealing learning and honoring the teacher; holding a caution as if standing at the edge of a deep abyss or treading on thin ice, and willingly bearing diligent toil—if one can reach the highest realm and comprehend the principle of emptiness and stillness, one will forget both the bestowing of kindness and the receiving of affection, and dissolve the distinction between the inner mind and outer conditions. In that case, how could wordless transformative teaching be remote or hard to attain?

From the time when the One Qi and the Two Images—the fundamental states before and after the differentiation of Heaven and Earth and of Yin-Yang—had not yet appeared, all between Heaven and Earth was dark and still, as if nothing existed at all. After the Five Tai, the five stages in the generation of the cosmos, and the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and humanity had differentiated, sound and transformative teaching gradually spread. In returning to simplicity and recovering purity, one’s joy lies in the root of the transformative teaching of Wuwei (non-action). When one has cultivated the state of a Zhenren and realized the sagely realm, one can roam freely in the most profound and mysterious principle. The Celestial Worthy transmitted the Dao to the host of immortals, and Lord Lao set forth the mysterious principle for all nations, leading living beings toward the realm of long life and bringing the people of the world into the realm of blessing and goodness.

Someone asked: Have the emperors and kings since ancient times attained the Dao (the Way) of themselves and put the Great Dao to use, or have they also received it through teachers? I replied: The Upper Three Sovereigns took the Great Dharma Master of the Mysterious Center as their teacher, the Middle Three Sovereigns took the Ancient Master as their teacher, and the Lower Three Sovereigns took the Imperial Lord of the Golden Portal as their teacher.

Fuxi took Yuhua Zi as his teacher, Shennong took Dacheng Zi as his teacher, Zhurong took Guangshou Zi as his teacher, the Yellow Emperor took Guangcheng Zi as his teacher, Zhuanxu took Chijing Zi as his teacher, Emperor Ku took Lutu Zi as his teacher, Emperor Yao took Wucheng Zi as his teacher, and Emperor Shun took Yinshou Zi as his teacher. Yu of Xia took Zhenxing Zi as his teacher, Tang of Yin took Xize Zi as his teacher, King Wen of Zhou took Xieyi Zi as his teacher, King Wu of Zhou took Yucheng Zi as his teacher, King Cheng of Zhou took Wuguang Zi as his teacher, King Kang of Zhou took Guoshu Zi as his teacher, and Confucius took Laozi as his teacher.

From the pure and simple age of high antiquity down to later times, when customs grew daily more frivolous and shallow, and even across the full reach of the nine heavens and the eight directions, the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors and the Three Kings and Five Hegemons all needed sages, perfected persons, and immortals as their teachers. They followed the norms of the lineage master and relied on the highest teaching to cultivate and nurture themselves. Otherwise they could not transcend the dusty world and perfect the true Dao.

The Guangyi further says: When Lord Lao (Laojun, the honorific title by which Daoism refers to Laozi) was about to manifest the Great Dao and instruct all under Heaven, he said, “The Great Dao cannot be without a teacher to revere, and the teaching cannot be without a master of the lineage.” Lord Lao therefore took the Most High Jade-Dawn Lord of the Great Dao as his teacher. The Lord of the Great Dao, together with five hundred million celestial lords and myriads upon myriads of sagely lords, in turn all took the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning as their teacher.

Lord Lao’s fundamental being, wisdom, and divine power are vast without limit, and the teaching he proclaims is inexhaustible. The Great Dao runs through without end, and his lifespan extends through a hundred million kalpas; yet he still followed the transmission of his lineage master, so as to realize the true Dao and benefit all beings. From this it is clear: how can people of the world fail to seek out a teacher and cultivate according to the teaching, yet still hope that their names will be entered in the register of immortals and that nine generations of their ancestors will ascend above the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing)?

When the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) are endowed in human beings, they become the constant De (Virtue/Power) of benevolence, ritual propriety, trustworthiness, righteousness, and wisdom, and they are also expressed as the De proper to an emperor. Benevolence corresponds to Wood and embodies the De of spring, by which the myriad things are brought forth; ritual propriety corresponds to Fire and embodies the De of summer, by which the myriad things are nourished; righteousness corresponds to Metal and embodies the De of autumn, which imposes solemn order and stern severity; wisdom corresponds to Water and embodies the De of winter, which lies hidden and stores up nourishment. If one can hold fast to this genuine and constant De, one can deeply accord with the plain and ancient teaching represented by Fuxi and Shennong (Xi and Nong). When one realizes the ultimate Dao (the Way)—the highest Dao—the ethos of benevolence and righteousness takes form of itself. Human beings embrace harmonious Qi (vital energy) and contain Shen (spirit), and through the working of heavenly Yang and earthly Yin they come to possess bodily form and innate nature. What is called “substance” is the bodily substance into which each physical form, differentiating, comes to be.

Haozi said: People such as Yang Xiong and Ban Gu held that Daoists slighted benevolence and righteousness and made light of ritual propriety and wisdom, attending only to clarity, stillness, and emptiness. This is in fact because worldly Confucians do not grasp the deeper meaning of the Mysterious Sages—sages deeply versed in the mysterious Dao. Benevolence easily turns into partial and narrow love, and righteousness easily turns into the judging of right and wrong. When the way of the world declines and grows thin, these abuses arise and become a surface ornament of the Dao, which instead renders the Dao shallow. The Tianyun says: “Those in antiquity who attained the highest benevolence merely acted by borrowing the name of benevolence and temporarily lodged themselves in righteousness. It was like taking lodging in a thatched hut, where one does not remain for long; and like the straw dog used in sacrifice, which is no longer set out once the rite is over.” The Upper Jing (scripture/classic) says: “Only after the great Dao has been abandoned do benevolence and righteousness appear.” It also says: “Discard sageliness and wisdom.”

Confucius asked the fisherman what genuineness is, and the fisherman replied: “Genuineness is purity and sincerity carried to the utmost. Without purity and without sincerity, one cannot move others. Therefore genuineness is the heart’s attainment of perfect sincerity.” That Confucius taught by means of benevolence and righteousness and transformed the people through ritual and music is not the same as this inner genuineness. The Zhuangzi says: “The highest ritual is not bound by ordinary human feelings; the highest righteousness is not constrained by external things; the highest wisdom does not rely on scheming; the highest benevolence is not partial toward one’s intimates; the highest trustworthiness is sufficient to move people, even to the point of causing metal and stone to open.” The Dao is obscured by partial, minor achievements, and words are likewise obscured by showy falsehood. Dao and De are the root, while benevolence and righteousness are the branch ends. Armies and weapons are terminal means after rule by De has declined; rewards, punishments, and the Five Punishments (the five penalties of antiquity) are terminal means after moral transformation has declined; ritual codes and the system of names and punishments are terminal means after governance has declined; bells, drums, and plumed banners—the feather ornaments and flag ornaments that adorn musical dance and ceremonial processions—are the terminal stage after music has lapsed into mere form. Mourning garments and other ritual institutions, together with matters of killing and wounding, are likewise only a part of these terminal affairs.

When people of the world prize the branch ends and neglect the root, they harm the way of the age. If one acts in accordance with heavenly nature, one will not lose the constant Dao: set aside deliberate fuss over ritual etiquette, and mind and will grow naturally calm and at peace; stop chasing after music and song, and the heart will not fall into indulgence; remove the benevolence that is deliberately held up for display, and the distinction between love and hate will fade; cast off the righteousness that deliberately sits in judgment, and the separation of right and wrong will recede. Only then can one, with an emptied mind, take in the plain and generous customs of antiquity and draw back the keen eagerness to pursue peripheral doctrines. If one places temperament and personal views before the fundamental principle, this becomes the beginning of a thin and decadent age; if, after the great Dao has been lost, one forces oneself into action, this becomes the source of disturbance to the simple nature. Is this not to damage the plain and simple nature while blaming the clever artisan, and to exalt the names of benevolence and righteousness while blaming the sage?

“Miaoben,” the wondrous fundamental, is the natural Dao (the Way). Its essential substance is empty and formless; in itself there is neither gaining nor losing. From the human point of view, a person receives the harmonious Qi (vital energy) between Heaven and Earth and contains the nature of the Dao, and so is able to become human. In high antiquity, human nature was plain and sincere. From the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors onward, people gradually lost that original purity. When emperors and kings took purposeful action, the dispositions of the people changed with them. After the Dao and De (Virtue/Power) declined, notions of humaneness, righteousness, ritual propriety, wisdom, and of power and position arose.

Heaven and Earth each have a De of movement and of stillness. If Heaven could not move, it could not set the sun, moon, and stars in motion, harmonize the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), arrange the four seasons, and cover and nurture the myriad things. If Earth could not rest firm and bear them up, it could not bring forth animals and plants, nor serve as the support of the myriad things and of mountains and rivers. All of this is the expression of receiving the great Dao and according with natural transformation. The Yi (Book of Changes) says: “Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) gives birth to the Two Modes; the Two Modes give birth to the Three Powers; the Three Powers give birth to the myriad things.” Enabling each of the myriad things to find its proper use, to take form and flourish, and to be nurtured is precisely the working of the Dao.

Where the Dao is present, the myriad things can grow; where the Dao departs, the myriad things decline and perish. The Dao cannot be abandoned; what can be abandoned is not the true Dao. At birth, a person’s mind and nature are originally clear and still. This is the nature that Heaven and Earth bestow on human beings. If one gives free rein to thought, pursues the six dusts (outer conditions that give rise to sensation and desire), and busies oneself with the three karmas (acts created by body, speech, and mind), the mind cannot settle, and the inner luminous nature no longer appears. One then loses one’s original nature and sinks into birth and death. Wrong done in full view meets with punishment from people; wrong done in secret meets also with punishment from ghosts and spirits. This is the loss of the Dao.

Thus, if Heaven loses the Dao, Yang Qi falls into disorder; if Earth loses the Dao, Yin Qi leaks away and scatters; if Shen (spirit) loses the Dao, its numinous nature wastes away; if the valleys lose the Dao, their waters dry up; if the myriad things lose the Dao, they cannot grow. If the Son of Heaven loses the Dao, he loses the world; if the lords and kings lose the Dao, they lose their states; if a person loses the Dao, that person loses life.

The substance of the Dao is empty, yet it is able to function. Harmonious Qi is empty and not full, and therefore can serve as the working of the Dao. A person should abide in the place of centrality and harmony, and not lose the nature of peace, emptiness, and stillness.

“The Chapter on the Movements of the Mind.”

The human mind may be divided into four kinds: the deluded mind, the awakened mind, the mind that cultivates the Dao (the Way), and the mind that realizes the Dao.

The deluded mind is of ten kinds: delusion about affairs, delusion about principle, delusion about the teachings, delusion about realms, delusion about Qi (vital energy), delusion about the body, delusion about Shen (spirit), delusion about the way of immortality, delusion about the true Dao, and delusion about the sagely Dao.

Delusion about affairs means that, faced with all manner of conditioned matters—things that arise through conditions and are subject to change—one cannot discern or see through them, whether they are good or evil. The mind is thereby turned upside down, confused, attached, and bewildered. Lacking wisdom, one cannot judge properly what to accept and what to reject, and so one turns about in the cycle of birth and death, unable to return to the source of the great Dao. The Scripture of Western Ascension says: “The great Dao is deep, far, and mysterious, like an empty abyss.” The Laozi says: “How deep it is—it seems to be the ancestor of the myriad things.”

Delusion about principle means that one has no knowledge of the empty, still, profound, and subtle fundamental reality, nor of the spontaneous and true inherent nature, and therefore cannot awaken, cultivate, or realize the Dao.

Delusion about the teachings concerns the sages’ hope that living beings will leave the secular world and return to what is true, following a path contrary to ordinary habit that in the end reaches smooth accord with principle. A commentary explains: the Dao honors Wuwei (non-action), yet people are forever busy with deliberate action; the Dao is originally without emotion or desire, yet people have feelings and desires. Without the guidance of an enlightened teacher and wise companions on the Dao, it is hard to open the mind and receive instruction, and hard to encounter such Daoist teachings as the Three Vehicles, Jade Clarity (Yuqing), Numinous Treasure (Lingbao), and the Cavern of Spirit (Dongshen, one of the Three Caverns). Even when some meet the wondrous methods of the sages, they feel no delight, and will not study and practice diligently or examine the meaning of the scriptures; the mind that seeks to leave the world is present at one moment and absent at the next. The Laozi says: “The Dao takes the natural as its model.” Those who can attain the Dao understand it as soon as they hear it; those who only talk about the Dao do not necessarily understand it. The sage handles affairs by Wuwei and teaches without speaking.

Delusion about realms divides into losing the true realm and clinging to the false realm. The true realm is the spontaneous inherent nature of the subtle source of the great Dao. When delusive thoughts cover the true, a person grows distant from the source and is stained by the dust of the world. The Laozi says: “Only by constantly being without desire can one observe the subtlety of the Dao; if one constantly harbors desire, one sees only the outward appearance of things.” The false mind shows itself as afflictions, the six faculties (eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind), the three activities of body, speech, and thought, and every kind of unwholesome conduct. It leads people to make false distinctions and to chase after conditioned matters. A scripture says: “Do not let desirable things disturb the eyes, and the mind will not be thrown into disorder.” The Scripture of Western Ascension says: “When evil deeds accumulate, evil Qi arrives; when good deeds accumulate, good Qi arrives. Those who accumulate goodness have the aid of spirits, and the Way of Heaven also protects the good.”

Delusion about Qi means that human beings receive the centrally harmonious Qi of Heaven and Earth, in which there is both the clear and the turbid. Those who receive clear Qi are intelligent; those who receive turbid Qi are dull. The Scripture of Settled Contemplation says: one whose life extends for several thousand years is called an immortal; one who refines form and transforms it into Qi is called a True Person; one who refines Qi into Shen is called a spirit-person; one who refines Shen and unites with the Dao is called a sage. If a person loses the original, harmonious, and correct nature, that person cannot nourish Shen or cherish Qi. The Guangyi says: “The Dao is non-being; the bodily form is being. What has form passes away; the formless Dao endures.” People of the world who cultivate the Dao should outwardly protect and nourish the physical form and treasure the body that has shape, and inwardly preserve the spirit and apprehend the formless Dao, joining with non-being, so that long life may be hoped for. The body belongs to the yin corporeal soul; the spirit belongs to the yang ethereal soul. So long as an ordinary person still has a little yang Qi in the body, that person will not become a ghost; so long as a little yin Qi remains, that person will not become an immortal. When yin Qi is entirely exhausted, one enters the rank of the immortals; an immortal is a body of pure yang. When yang Qi is entirely exhausted, one becomes a ghost; ghosts belong to yin Qi. A scripture says: “Can you concentrate on guarding Qi and make the body soft, like an infant?”

Only when yang Qi is abundant, and one guards the One and possesses De (Virtue/Power), can one speak of governing a state. Only with De can a state be established; only when there is a state can the Dao be practiced; only by practicing the Dao can government and moral instruction be carried out; only when that instruction is fitting can the people be settled. When the people are settled, the state is settled, and all under Heaven is naturally at peace. A scripture says: “In loving the people and governing the state, can one practice Wuwei?”

Delusion about the body means not knowing that the body contains Qi, Shen, and consciousness, and not knowing that through cultivation one may become an immortal, a True Person, or a sage. The Scripture of Western Ascension says: “The sage is constantly at ease, at ease together with Heaven and Earth, and can also commune with ghosts and spirits. Ordinary people are at ease only in situations they are already used to; as soon as a situation does not suit them, they grow uneasy.” Those deluded about the body still do not understand that, although the body is empty and still, it can contain the myriad things, and that when the mind within is empty and quiet, harmonious Qi returns toward the good. One who nourishes the body should keep oneself stored away and not display oneself, and should not show off among others. Thus the sage places himself behind and yet comes to stand in front; he does not put his own person first, and yet is able to preserve it. Not to know that the body is one of the roots of calamity is precisely delusion about the body.

Delusion about Shen means not understanding what “Shen” means. Shen is that whose transformations of Yin-Yang cannot be fathomed, whose working is subtle and without fixed method, and which hides and appears, penetrates and changes, without ever being exhausted. In Heaven it is called a celestial spirit, on Earth a terrestrial deity, and among human beings a ghost. If the spiritual consciousness and numinous essence within the bodies of living beings cannot refine Shen and unite with the Dao, they cannot reach the state of the sage. The Zhuangzi says: “The myriad things follow what is natural, and each obtains its life.”

Delusion about the immortal is failure to cultivate the way of immortality; delusion about the true is failure to cultivate the true Dao; delusion about the sagely is failure to cultivate the sagely Dao.

The awakened mind is the mind awakened to the Dao; the mind of cultivation is the mind that cultivates the Dao; the mind of realization is the mind that realizes the Dao. If one can cut off anxious concern, delusive thoughts, and discriminating distinctions, one comes to understand this: from the standpoint of the true, there is nothing unseen, unheard, unperceived, or unknown; from the standpoint of the deviant and false, there are things unseen, unheard, unperceived, and unknown. If the distinction between the true and the deviant disappears altogether, and awareness is let go along with it, one can reach the state in which mind and realm are both forgotten. When mind and realm are both forgotten, one merges obscurely with the Dao.

The Scripture of Inner Observation says that the mind has no color of blue-green, red, white, or yellow, and no shape of long or short, round or square. At its largest it contains Heaven and Earth; at its smallest it enters a fine hair. Restrain it, and it settles; indulge it, and it runs wild. When it is clear and still, the impulse of life appears; when it is turbid and restless, it tends toward decline and perishing. It can brightly illumine the eight directions, and through dimness it can also lose its way in a single corner. What is hardest for a person to subdue is the mind. Therefore, to teach people to cultivate the Dao is to teach them to cultivate the mind, and to teach people to cultivate the mind is to teach them to cultivate the Dao.

The mind cannot be brought to rest by force; it must be settled through mindfulness of the Dao. The mind cannot be seen; it must be made clear by means of the Dao. The two courses of good and evil, and every affair in the world, arise because of the mind and cease because of the mind. One who cultivates the Dao gathers in the mind and can thereby accord with the Dao; a worldly person lets the mind run loose and thereby harms himself. When thoughts arise, confusion readily follows; when thoughts cease, affairs and principle can recover their clarity. Thus the Son of Heaven establishes officials, sets laws and measures, arranges punishments and rewards, and displays signs of good and ill fortune in order to guide the people—all because the human mind is hard to govern.

No-mind means not letting the mind cling to things. A settled mind means not letting the mind be deluded. A stilled mind means not letting the mind move falsely. A restrained mind means not letting the mind scatter. A rectified mind means not letting the mind enter deviant paths. A cooled mind means not letting the mind be stained. An empty mind means not letting the mind hold any attachment. Only when one understands these seven methods of cultivating the mind may one speak of the Dao, and may one also speak of cultivating the mind.

Chapter on Cultivating the Dao

If the Dao (the Way) is present in a person’s body, it is like a valley answering a sound. To practice the Dao is surely to gain something; send forth a sound, and the valley is sure to answer. When the sound is quick, the echo is quick—like a person of superior capacity who diligently cultivates the Dao. When the sound is slow, the echo is slow—like a person of middling capacity who now advances and now retreats. If there is no sound at all, the valley has no echo either—like a person of inferior capacity who will not cultivate the Dao. Without such cultivation, the Dao grows ever more distant from the person.

Therefore the sage values a generous heart that keeps humaneness stored within, so that his own foundation is made full, and he knows how to cherish himself. He casts aside an outlook that is showy and delusive, does not take himself to be invariably right, and does not exalt or prize himself. That a valley has an echo is a metaphor for a wondrous operation that never comes to an end, and also a metaphor for long life and lasting vision (living long while remaining clear and lucid). Thus it is said: “The valley spirit (Shen) never dies; this is called the mysterious female.” The meaning is that the wondrous Dao, which like a valley is empty and still and yet able to generate and transform, does not perish. This is called the mysterious female (the profound source capable of giving birth to the myriad things).

One who diligently cultivates the Dao should use Yang Qi (vital energy) to regulate and refine Yin Qi. If, instead, Yin Qi is allowed to fill the body while Yang Qi sinks and lies hidden, harmonious Qi (Qi in a balanced state) will disperse, and deviant Qi will seize the opening and enter, bringing aging, illness, and suffering, even a swift death. Cultivation should bring Yin Qi back into harmony, using Yang Qi to regulate and refine Yin Qi: returning from aging to a state like that of an infant, from confusion to awakening, from deviance and bias to uprightness, and from emptiness to fullness.

The essential point is to seek out teachers, study the teachings, and practice as instructed; to live in the quiet of mountains and forests; and to nurture a state of profound silence (deep stillness, with few words and few desires). One begins by practicing Zhengyi (Orthodox Unity, an important lineage of Daoism), then enters Dongshen (one of the Three Caverns of Daoist scriptural teaching), then studies the wondrous mystery and Lingbao (Numinous Treasure), and goes on to master the subtle purport of Dongzhen (one of the Three Caverns of Daoist scriptural teaching). Thereafter one practices tuna and daoyin (methods of nourishing life such as regulating the breath and moving the body) and undertakes all kinds of exercises in bending and stretching, gradually reaching the highest fruit of the cultivation of immortals and sages.

Chapter on Preserving Life

Harmonize the breath, let the conscious spirit dwell at ease amid the mountains and forests, and nurture profound silence. One begins by practicing Zhengyi, then enters Dongshen, then studies the wondrous mystery and Lingbao, and goes on to master the subtle purport of Dongzhen; thereafter one practices tuna and daoyin together with all kinds of exercises in bending and stretching, gradually reaching the highest fruit of the cultivation of immortals and sages.

Harmonious Qi (vital energy), Shen (spirit), and consciousness are born and die along with the physical form, yet the nature of Shen itself has neither birth nor death. When Qi gathers in the physical form, this is called life; when the physical form perishes, this is called death. The Zhuangzi says: “There is life and there is death, there is going out and there is coming in; between going out and coming in no trace can be seen—this is called the Gate of Heaven.” Cultivation is divided into inner and outer. Inner cultivation is to discern the fundamental principle of life and death, while outer cultivation is to be the guiding master of the myriad things. Outer cultivation lies in preserving others, and inner cultivation lies in preserving oneself. The essential point of both is to comprehend the principle of neither being born nor dying, and this cannot be achieved merely by enlarging the arts of nurturing life.

All life constituted by physical form is called death when Qi disperses and life when Qi gathers. Qi undergoes gathering and dispersing, yet Shen admits of no distinction between arising and perishing. Therefore, by means of Shen one can employ Qi, and by means of Qi one can also nourish Shen. When Qi and Shen unite, they together bring life to completion; when Qi and Shen separate, each proceeds on its own.

In the “Knowledge Wandered North” chapter of the Zhuangzi, Cheng answers Shun: “The body is not yours to possess; it is a physical form temporarily entrusted to you by Heaven and Earth. Life is not yours to possess; it is the harmonious Qi temporarily entrusted to you by Heaven and Earth. Nature and life are not yours to possess; they are the nature that accords with principle, temporarily entrusted to you by Heaven and Earth.” Heaven and Earth condense Qi and thereby give rise to life. Qi rises and falls, and the myriad things only temporarily receive the arrangements of Heaven and Earth. Once one understands the principles of the body, of life, and of nature and life, one will know that all of these are the physical form, the harmonious Qi, and the nature that accords with principle, temporarily entrusted by Heaven and Earth.

From this it can be known that when the Qi of Heaven and Earth gathers there is life, and when it disperses there is death. What are called life and death are distinctions drawn according to the gathering and dispersing of Qi. Such distinctions are only provisional ways of speaking; the myriad things themselves have no fixed substantial entity. Without a fixed entity, yet truly and constantly abiding, there is therefore neither arising nor perishing.

What is now called preserving life is the restraining of the deluded stirrings aroused by emotion and desire. Once emotion and desire grow, they obstruct the nature that truly and constantly abides. Nurturing life is like this, and governing the state is likewise like this. If one excessively employs clever schemes, expands territory, amasses wealth in great quantity, builds palaces on a grand scale, indulges in extravagance, and multiplies artful ornament, one will lose the pure and tranquil true nature. Once the true nature is lost, teaching that accords with the natural cannot be carried out; arrogant and deviant thoughts invade the mind, so that one cannot set oneself aright and loses the ruling center. After the ruling center is lost, the treacherous and the flattering gain power. In this way one not only forgets the principle of nurturing life, but the state too can hardly be preserved for long.

If the body is not entangled by delusion, the span of life can be long; the ancestral temple can continue through the generations, and the state can long endure. One who nurtures life is one who preserves the state, and one who cultivates the Dao (the Way) is one who preserves life. This begins with softening the opposition of right and wrong, casting off pride, abstaining from craving and desire, and forgetting fame and profit. Thereafter one must also guard against the five colors disturbing the colorless realm, the five sounds disturbing the soundless realm, and the five flavors disturbing the flavorless realm. Do not pursue the six dusts—form, sound, scent, taste, touch, and dharmas, the inducing causes from outside—nor rush about among the three times of past, present, and future. When ear and eye are not drawn by external things, when confused thoughts cease within the mind, when the breath flows freely and evenly, when Shen does not leave the form and the form does not leave Shen, and Shen and form keep to one another, the work of long life and immortal cultivation can be accomplished, and the path of nurturing life is realized.

When one fully comprehends that the nature of sound and form is empty, and realizes that the physical form is not truly existent, so that the spirit is clear and the mind’s resolve is still, conduct in De (Virtue/Power) is deep and ample and the realm of the Dao is lofty and far-reaching, one will not sink into the perilous straits of life and death, but will naturally enter the dark and profound realm of Chongxuan (Twofold Mystery).

The Xisheng Jing (Scripture of Western Ascension) says: “To put other people first is not as good as cherishing one’s own person; cherishing one’s own person is not as good as caring for the spirit; caring for the spirit is not as good as nurturing the spirit; nurturing the spirit is not as good as guarding the true nature. Guard the true nature, and one can long endure.” The scripture further says: “Shen cares for human beings, yet human beings do not care for Shen. Therefore Lord Lao teaches people to nurture Shen and to nurture Qi; this is the method of preserving life.”

Governing the world, the state, the family, and oneself must all rely on Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue/Power) to set things right and bring remedy. In governing the state, if one follows the natural course and intervenes little, affairs become simple; if one forcibly intervenes in every matter, affairs grow complicated. When affairs are simple, people’s hearts are plain and sincere; when affairs are complicated, the people easily fall into disorder. When hearts are plain and sincere, the state is secure; when the people are in disorder, the state is in danger. To leave danger and disorder and move toward security, one ought to remain still and hold to the Dao.

The Daodejing says: “Therefore the sage holds fast to the ‘One’ (unity, the fundamental Dao) as the standard for the world.” It also says: “Knowing what is bright and manifest, yet holding to the obscure side, as the standard for the world.” One models Heaven and accords with Earth, broadly carrying out the work of nurturing the myriad things, yet claims no credit and does not cling to outward traces; one does not, merely because one occupies a position of honor, look down upon the people of the world. The Daodejing further says: “Only one who regards his own person as more precious than the world may the world be entrusted to him; only one who regards his own person as more cherished than the world may the world be given over to him.” The sage does not deem himself great, and so is able to accomplish great undertakings; he acts yet does not presume upon himself, and after the work is done he does not claim the merit. Only one who can bear the humiliation of the state deserves to be called the master of the state; only one who can bear the calamities of the state deserves to be called the king of the world.

Therefore the ruler should treat the people as one treats the straw animals used in sacrifice, and not as objects to be arranged at will; governing a great state should be like cooking a small fish—one must not keep turning it and disturbing it. This is the stern admonition of Laojun (Laozi). Do not one-sidedly exalt the reputation of the worthy and able; do not prize treasures too highly; regard the myriad things as equal, take humility and lowliness as the foundation, do not indulge in the use of arms, and do not lightly start wars; lighten taxes and levies, do not become deluded by pride and self-satisfaction, and do not pursue luxury, license, and excessive desire.

From this one can see that if the ruler indulges in drinking and hunting, he will put to labor the people who plow and weave; if he covets rare and exotic beasts from distant lands, he will exhaust the people who travel back and forth by water and by land. Clearly, if Dao and De are not honored, the state cannot be well governed. Governing by Wuwei (non-action), without changing the world through coercive means, is what accords with the people; deliberately governing more and more instead gives rise to the beginnings of disorder. The Taiping Jing says: “Make people’s hearts clear and still.” This shows that the way of governance takes clarity and stillness as its foundation.

Tianzhen Huangren (a transcendent immortal of Daoist legend) said to the Yellow Emperor: “I have never heard of anyone who had governed himself well, yet failed to govern the state well.” A person’s body is like a state: the chest and abdomen are like the palace chambers, the four limbs are like the suburbs and frontiers, and the joints are like the hundred officials; Shen (spirit) is like the ruler, and Qi (vital energy) is like the people. One who understands how to govern the body also understands how to govern the state. Only by cherishing the people can the state be at peace; only by grasping and nurturing Qi can the body be kept whole.

What has already been lost is hard to recover, and the dead cannot rise again to take office. Therefore the perfected person (one who has succeeded in cultivating the Dao) removes hidden dangers before calamity occurs, and regulates the body before illness takes form. Qi is hard to nurture yet easy to disperse; the people are hard to gather yet easy to scatter. One should govern properly before calamity and illness have appeared, and not wait until Qi has been exhausted and the people have dispersed before regretting and trying to make amends.

“Coarse” (pang) and “fine” (xi) may be used to describe the different levels in cultivation: Shen (spirit) is subtle and refined, Qi (vital energy) is finer than the physical form, and the physical form appears coarse and bulky. In cultivating and seeking the Dao (the Way), one must in sequence refine the form so as to unite it with Qi, refine Qi so as to unite it with Shen, and refine Shen so as to unite it with the Dao. If one cultivates only Shen and not Qi, then once Qi disperses the bodily form will also come to an end; if one cultivates only Qi and not Shen, one can merely prolong life, yet remains far from attaining the Dao.

By regulating and drawing in the breath and cultivating mind and spirit, one makes body and mind peaceful and pure; then, through methods such as guiding exercises (daoyin) and breath regulation (tuna), one nourishes the Qi of the body and, in stillness, attains Great Harmony (taihe, a state of peaceful harmony), so that Shen and Qi circulate freely, the mind and spirit become clear and expansive, and the elixir vision (danjing, the sights or signs perceived in internal cultivation) settles and coheres. In this way the ordinary bodily form can be transformed into a true body, without waiting for a future life. When deluded, a person is an ordinary mortal; when awakened, that person is a sage.

“Coarse and fine” may also be distinguished from different perspectives. The three vehicles of the lesser, the middle, and the greater (cultivation methods of different levels) may be used to show their relative coarseness and fineness; they may also be divided according to such levels as the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), the Nine Heavens, the Five Qi, the Three Powers, the gate of contemplation (methods of contemplative practice), and the faculties, objects, and consciousness (the senses, external objects, and mental awareness). The ethereal and corporeal souls (hun and po), the formed and the formless, and the Dao and De (Virtue/Power) as against benevolence and righteousness may all likewise be used to explain the distinction between coarse and fine. When it is said here that “the Dao and De are fine, while benevolence and righteousness are coarse,” the Dao and De are taken to point to a more subtle and fundamental level, and benevolence and righteousness to the more concrete norms of the world.

The scripture says: “The great image has no form.” The Scripture of Western Ascension (Xisheng jing) says: “Nothing in the world is softer and weaker than Qi, and nothing is softer and weaker than the Dao in comparison with Qi.” The Dao is the fundamental substance of Wuwei (non-action); Qi arises through the transformations of Yin-Yang. The Dao embraces heaven and earth and permeates all things. The Nanhua Jing (Zhuangzi) says that the Dao encompasses everything, has no boundary, and can also enter into the most minute places.

When contemplating, one should contemplate the body as an illusion or a dream, and cultivate conduct that accords with morality. To forget the body, and also to forget the cultivation itself, is naturally to enter a realm of profound subtlety and unobstructed understanding; to cling to the body and to conduct is to fall into the root of the cycle of birth and death.

What is called “guan” (contemplation) is wisdom. By means of wisdom one discerns principle until wisdom and principle fuse into one, naturally according with the Middle Way (the correct principle that inclines to neither side). The Benji Jing (scripture) says: “Only by possessing all wisdom can one accomplish the supreme Dao (the Way).” To observe things with the eyes is called guan; to contemplate quietly with the mind and Shen (spirit) is also called guan. To observe the myriad things outwardly, to still inwardly every kind of conditioned concern (the conditions that stir the thoughts of the mind), and to cultivate all manner of good deeds within the heart—these too are all called guan. Cultivation is the path by which one enters the profound realm and gradually accomplishes sagely practice.

The Yebao Jing says: “The many sufferings continually afflict living beings, and their root commonly lies in the possession of this body; living beings revolve in birth and death and cannot free themselves of their own accord. What method can remove delusive thoughts?” The Taishang (the Daoist title of honor for the supreme divinity) replies: Inverted delusions all arise from within the mind. People contrive a discriminating mind and fasten their thoughts upon their own body; when they meet external conditions they become confused, and the moment the mind stirs they fall into false thoughts. Thus they drift and wander, sinking into birth and death. One need only steady the will, contemplate the body, and recognize that it is wholly unreal; once this is understood, delusive thoughts gradually cease. When delusive thoughts cease, within and without become pure and still; to realize the principle for oneself is called “forgetting the body.” Once the body is forgotten, the entanglements of illusion disperse of themselves.

The Zhuangzi says: “Accord with the trend of the times, rest content in change, and do not let a momentary circumstance disturb the mind and Shen.” This is how a person of penetrating understanding forgets the body.

From ordinary person to sage, one cannot do without the four stages of seeing, cultivating, accomplishing, and benefiting. “Seeing” is of two kinds. One is to meet good friends (teachers and companions who lead others toward goodness), to hear them expound the true Jing, or oneself to study the teachings of the Jing and thereby make progress. The other is to discern inwardly the profound principle, so that the mind and Shen gradually become pure and still, until one reaches a state of refined subtlety. “Cultivating” is of three kinds: the Small Vehicle, the Middle Vehicle, and the Great Vehicle. “Accomplishing” is of three kinds: the fruit of the immortal, the fruit of the perfected, and the fruit of the sage. “Benefiting” is also of three kinds: those who attain these three fruits each proclaim the teaching and guide living beings, so as to benefit the people and bring relief to the age.

These four methods issue from the peerless dharma of the Dao and likewise lead to the peerless dharma of the Dao; only for the benefit of living beings are they set forth as four. In the end they all merge back into the profound fundamental reality and return to the One. Without correct contemplation, one cannot cultivate and realize the fruit of the Dao.