《中和集》Vol. 1

The Zhonghe ji (Collection of Central Harmony) was composed by Li Daochun of Duliang, Qing’an Yingchanzi (Daoist name Yingchanzi, courtesy name Yuansu), and arranged for publication by his disciple Cai Zhiyi, Baichanzi of Sun’an.

Preface

Cai Zhiyi of Sun’an in Weiyang (the Yangzhou region) was a disciple of Li Qing’an, Yingchanzi. Having seen through the dust and toil of the world, he devoted himself to cultivating the way of immortals, received his teacher’s instruction, and compiled it into a book titled Zhonghe ji. “Zhonghe” (Central Harmony) was taken from the name of his teacher’s quiet chamber.

In the autumn of the Dade bingwu year, Cai Zhiyi came to visit me and asked me to endorse this book; he intended to have it carved and printed for circulation, to awaken those who would come after. Before I had even unrolled the manuscript, I already knew that it sets forth the principle of clearing away every kind of delusion and revealing what is truly real. What it says is just this: what Heaven bestows upon a person is called ming (destiny); what a person receives from Heaven is called xing (nature). As for the natural principle of the primordial Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), the realm in which the Golden Elixir shines through the Great Void, and the state reached without relying on forced cultivation—all of this is explained with full clarity in the book.

By practicing accordingly, one can penetrate the hidden and subtle, understand transformation, make the root firm and the spirit tranquil; one can also reach the realm of shedding the husk and spirit transformation, and in the end return to the limitless (Wuji). What Daoists call “there is something undifferentiated and complete,” what Confucians call “central harmony nurturing the ten thousand things,” and what Buddhists call “pointing to the mind to see nature”—though the wording differs, the principle they point to is one, all stemming from Taiji. Therefore Laozi said one should “constantly excel at saving people,” the Buddha said “do not despise you,” and the words of the Duke of Zhou are also worth trusting. Those who read this book should not lightly doubt its teaching.

Du Daojian of Nangu, Dangtu, wrote this at Xuanyuan Zhenguan in Qiantang.

Zhonghe ji, Fascicle One

The Fundamental Aim of the Mystic Gate (the root purpose of Daoist cultivation)

Buddhism calls it “Complete Enlightenment” (yuanjue)—awakening that is full and utterly clear; Daoism calls it the “Golden Elixir,” the inner root sought in cultivation; Confucianism calls it the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate). The phrase “Wuji (the Limitless) yet Taiji” means that a root without form, image, or fixed limit manifests as Taiji, with its order and change.

Buddhism speaks of “abiding immovably in suchness, always knowing with clarity”; the “Xici” commentary on the Book of Changes says, “Still and unmoving, yet responsive and penetrating”; alchemical texts say that after body and mind are still, the true living force of Wuji appears again. All these point to the subtle root of Taiji. From this we can see that what the three traditions honor is the discipline of quiet stillness—what Zhou Dunyi called “taking stillness as fundamental.”

When the mind is still and has not yet been touched by outer things, it is clear and pure, and the principle of Heaven (tianli) shows forth—this is the wonder of Taiji. Once the mind is affected by outer things, bias may arise—this is the change of Taiji. If, in stillness, one carefully guards the principle of Heaven held in the mind and keeps it bright, so that the spirit stays empty and clear and does not grow dim, then in action one naturally has a master within; when things come, one can meet them appropriately.

When the work of stillness is fully mature, even without striving one naturally reaches a state in which the true living force of Wuji appears again, the subtle working of Taiji is clear, and the principles of Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things are all present within oneself.

The Book of Rites says: “When joy, anger, sorrow, and delight have not yet appeared, this is called zhong (equilibrium); when they have appeared and all accord with measure, this is called he (harmony).” What is meant by “not yet manifest” is that when a person is quiet and settled, they carefully guard the nature stored in the heart—hence it is called zhong. Though this nature is present, it has no fixed form; therefore it is called “the great root of all under heaven.” What is meant by “manifest yet in measure” is that in action one carefully holds how feeling and conduct show themselves—hence it is called he. When feeling and conduct appear and all accord with measure, this is called “the universal Way of all under heaven”—that is, the principle universally followed under heaven.

If one can truly achieve centered harmony in oneself, then the inherent body and mind become empty, clear, and keen: in stillness one can discern; in action one is upright and fitting—so in facing endless change under heaven one will not go wrong. The Old Master (Laozi) said: “If people can constantly keep clarity and stillness, heaven and earth and the myriad things will return to stability.” This matches what Zisi said in the Doctrine of the Mean: “When centered harmony is reached, heaven and earth each keep their place, and the myriad things flourish.” Zhong and he are the subtle efficacy of responsive communion and the key to meeting change; they embody the Book of Changes teaching that the myriad things grow and flow as a whole through movement and stillness. Is it not fitting to name this dwelling “Centered Harmony”?

Body, inner mind, worldly environment, and the tasks one undertakes are called the “four conditions.” Ordinary people are all bound and dragged by these; only one who can entrust oneself to their natural course can meet them—and can meet them often while the inner mind stays constantly still. What binding would remain?

What is “entrusting” (wei)? It is letting the body rest in silence, letting the inner mind penetrate empty clarity, letting oneself in the world be easy and uncontentious, and letting affairs follow their natural course. What is “according” (shun)? It is according with the mandate of heaven, the Way of heaven, the seasons of heaven, and the principle of heaven. When the body accords with heaven’s mandate, it can meet other people; when the inner mind accords with the Way of heaven, it can meet external things; when one’s place in the world accords with heaven’s seasons, one can meet change; when affairs accord with heaven’s principle, one can seize the right moment.

Being able to entrust body, mind, world, and affairs—and to accord with mandate, Way, seasons, and principle—and on that basis meet people, things, change, and timing, one can shake off the four bindings. Holding this view, one can respond constantly while the inner mind stays constantly still—and thus can constantly preserve clarity and stillness.

The ancients said: “Often dispel restless, agitated thoughts, but do not dispel the clear mind that illumines and observes.” Any mind that is still and yet clearly aware is the “illuminating mind” (zhaoxin); any mind that churns without rest is the “deluded mind” (wangxin). The illuminating mind is the mind of the Dao (daoxin); the deluded mind is the human mind (renxin).

“The mind of the Dao is subtle” means the mind of the Dao is fine and deep, hard to discern; “the human mind is precarious” means the human mind is easily unsettled and lives in instability. The human mind also contains within it the mind of the Dao, and the mind of the Dao may also be mixed with the human mind—the crux lies in whether the heart is in motion or in stillness. Only by holding the central and correct Way with honest single-mindedness can the illuminating mind endure and the deluded mind be stilled; what was once a fearful, unstable heart becomes settled, and what was once an obscure, hard-to-see mind of the Dao becomes clear and manifest. Then the heart without delusion is restored, and the Way without delusion is fulfilled. The Book of Changes says: “Hexagram Fu (Return)—does it not reveal the original heart of Heaven and Earth?”

Inscription on the Diagram of the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji)

The circle in the middle symbolizes “Wuji (without limit) yet Taiji (Supreme Ultimate)”: all things begin from a source that has no form and no image. When Taiji stirs, Yang arises; when movement reaches its extreme it turns to stillness, and stillness gives rise to Yin. Yin and Yang unite to form the Two Forms (Liangyi). The circles in the diagram stand for Yang and Yin within the Two Forms: Yang governs movement, Yin governs rest.

As Yin and Yang interact, the Four Images (Sixiang) appear. The alternation of movement and rest in the Four Images is called old Yang, lesser Yin, young Yang, and old Yin: Yang moving and moving again is old Yang; movement at its peak turning to rest is lesser Yin; rest at its peak turning again to movement is young Yang; rest upon rest is old Yin. The Four Images continue to change and produce the Bagua (Eight Trigrams). Qian and Dui belong to old Yang, Li and Zhen to lesser Yin, Gen and Kan to young Yang, Xun and Kun to old Yin. Yin runs in reverse, Yang runs forward; one ascends and one descends, change never ceasing—thus the sixty-four hexagrams come into being and the principles of transformation in all things are complete.

The upper circle symbolizes the beginning of qi transformation; the lower circle symbolizes the root from which form and body arise. To know only qi transformation and not how form comes into being is to miss the vast pattern; to know only how form comes into being and not qi transformation is to fail to exhaust the subtle. Hence a verse was composed to explain these principles.

Verse, Chapter Twenty-Five

The root of the Dao is utterly empty; emptiness pushed to the limit has no fixed shape. It is inexhaustible—there is no origin one can trace back, no end one can fix.

When emptiness reaches its limit, spirit is born; spirit transforms and gives rise to qi; qi gathers and forms things with shape, and from this Yin and Yang diverge.

Once Yin and Yang are divided, they respond to each other; response brings pairing. Yin and Yang interact, and Qian and Kun (the trigrams of heaven and earth) are thereby fixed. Movement and rest never cease, the Four Images link together; vigor and yielding push against each other, and the Bagua take shape. The Five Phases turn according to fixed patterns, the four seasons are set, and a year takes form.

Yin and Yang blend in harmony, making all things abundant in birth; they give every thing the conditions to begin and the nourishment to grow. In heaven they turn and regulate the myriad phenomena; on earth they nurture every living being.

Forms succeed one another, things gestate one another. The Five Phases turn according to fixed patterns, the four seasons are set, and a year takes form.

Yin and Yang blend in harmony, making all things abundant in birth; they give every thing the conditions to begin and the nourishment to grow. In heaven they turn and regulate the myriad phenomena; on earth they nurture every living being.

Form and body pass from one to another; the myriad things give birth to one another in turn. Change is unceasing, generation without end—where could there be a limit?

All things under heaven arise from “being”; “being” in turn arises from “non-being.” Being and non-being interweave; what is hidden and what is revealed depend on each other.

Tracing things to their beginning, all existence takes Qi as its root; pursuing them to their end, every form must undergo change.

From this we know that the myriad things ultimately consist of form and Qi; the root of form and Qi is Shen (spirit); the root of Shen is utmost emptiness; the root of the Dao is utmost non-being. The principle of change—the way of transformation spoken of in the Yi—lies therein.

Heaven is above, earth below; human beings and the myriad things dwell between heaven and earth, naturally merging and transforming, with the action of Qi running through it all.

Heaven and earth are the greatest existences; the human being is the most spiritually refined among the myriad things. Heaven and the human being are originally one body. The cosmos seems held in the palm of the hand; the ten thousand transformations arise from oneself, and the principle of change lies therein.

The realm a person can reach is to stand between heaven and earth and establish the way of one’s life; to receive the nature of empty spirit and fulfill one’s true nature. In establishing nature and destiny, the work of Shen lies therein.

Human life and destiny relate to Qi; true nature relates to Shen. Gather Shen-intent in the heart and gather Qi in the body—then the Dao is therein.

When form changes, there is life; with life there is death. From birth to death is the constant pattern of the myriad things.

When Qi changes, one is not bound by the birth and death of form or by a discriminating mind. Gather Qi in the body—the Dao is therein.

When form changes, there is life; with life there is death. From birth to death is the constant pattern of the myriad things.

When Qi changes, there is neither birth nor death; where there is no birth, there is no death. Neither birth nor death is the constant pattern of Shen.

The change of form embodies the character of earth; the change of Qi embodies the image of heaven. Change of form arises from responsiveness; change of Qi is spontaneous and natural.

The clear-sighted adept preserves Qi and Shen, brings every kind of harmony together, and naturally arrives at the state of “truth.”

Truth within truth—deep and again deep; from formlessness and qualitylessness form and quality arise—this is called the embryonic immortal (taixian), the immortal body spoken of in Daoism as arising from inner cultivation.

If you wish to attain this Dao, where do you begin? Only in stillness and empty-heartedness is there hope of becoming an embryonic immortal.

When the inner mind is empty, there is no obstruction; when the heart-mind is still, there is no desire. Reaching utmost emptiness and stillness, one can observe the changes of the myriad things and understand that all things ultimately return to the root.

In action, take stillness as master; within fullness, still hold to emptiness. These two principles depend on each other, so that Shen and the Dao unite.

The Dao is master of Shen; Shen is master of Qi; Qi is master of form; form is master of life.

When no deluded thoughts arise, the body becomes settled; when the body is settled, qi becomes settled; when qi is settled, spirit becomes settled; and once spirit is settled, one no longer clings to any “place of abiding.” This is called “abiding without abiding” (wuzhu er zhu).

Refining the body with golden elixir and guarding spirit with jade talismans, until both spirit and body reach a profound and subtle state—then one merges with the Great Dao and accords with what is truly real.

When the treasure of life is gathered, the bright pearl of one’s nature shines, the Original Spirit (Yuanshen) becomes numinous, the Embryonic Immortal (taixian) is achieved, and the way of emptiness and naturalness is complete.

How great is spirit! It is perhaps the root of all transformation in the ten thousand things!

Secret Meaning Before the Trigrams

First: Constant and Changing Yi

“Yi” (Changes) can transform, yet it is not the unchanging Yi; “xiang” (images) can appear, yet they are not the greatest xiang. The constant Yi itself does not change; the greatest xiang has no fixed form.

The constant Yi is the Yi before any hexagram is drawn; changing yi is the Yi that appears after the lines are drawn. The constant Yi that does not change is the substance of Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate); the changeable changing yi is the root of creation and transformation. The greatest xiang is the beginning of movement and stillness; the visible xiang is the source of all shapes and names.

What remains still through countless kalpas is the constant Yi; what runs without ceasing from antiquity to the present is changing yi. What is empty and without form is the great xiang; what emerges along with concrete things is the visible xiang.

What is called “constant” means one cannot find its beginning or fathom its end; through ten thousand generations it abides alone in vast emptiness. What is called “vast” means it embraces heaven and earth outwardly and fills the cosmos inwardly, extending through worlds as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, clear and complete. Because the constant Yi itself does not change, it can embrace the infinite changes under heaven; because the great xiang has no fixed form, it can present the infinite things under heaven. Yi and xiang are perhaps the root of the Dao?

Second: Constant and Change

What is unchanging and constant is the constant way of the Yi; what shifts without fixed pattern is the way of change in the Yi. Because there is an unchanging root, one can respond to change; because change is not rigidly fixed, one can grasp the meaning of the constant. Being one from start to finish is the constant way of the Yi; the ceaseless alternation of movement and stillness is the way of change in the Yi.

Standing alone without altering itself shows the constant; cycling in operation without stopping shows change. If one does not understand the constant, one cannot master change; if one does not master change, one cannot know the constant. Constant and change are perhaps the root of the Yi?

Substance and Function (Third)

The constant is the substance of the Yi; change is its function. The substance is unchanged from antiquity to the present; its function varies with the times. The substance is without thought and without deliberate action; its function responds as things stir it. Only by knowing how it functions can one penetrate its substance; only by preserving its substance can its function be fully deployed.

The sage looked up to observe the heavens and down to survey the earth, sought far and took pattern from what was near, and thereby knew the substance of the Yi; the noble person broadens virtue and cultivates undertakings, handles affairs and fashions implements—that is following the function of the Yi. Investigating things to the end, exhausting one’s nature, resting in Heaven’s way and knowing one’s allotted fate, as well as cultivating the person, regulating the family, governing the state, and bringing peace to all under Heaven, even to establishing institutions and laws—none of this is apart from the Yi. Grasping the substance of the Yi suffices to know the constant; skillfully using its function suffices to master change.

Movement and Stillness (Fourth)

The mutual advance of firm and yielding is the movement and stillness of the Yi; the rise and fall of yin and yang is the movement and stillness of qi; the interweaving of odd and even numbers is the movement and stillness of the hexagrams; the waxing and waning of qi and form is the movement and stillness of the ten thousand things; the alternation of day and night and the rhythms of human rising and resting can all help one understand the principle of change.

When rigidity and softness shift into each other, that is what the Yi (Changes) calls motion and stillness; when Yin and Yang rise and fall in turn, that is the motion and stillness of Qi; when odd and even numbers interleave and overlap, that is the motion and stillness of the hexagrams; when Qi gathers and disperses and forms appear and vanish, that is the motion and stillness of the ten thousand things; when day and night alternate and waking and sleeping follow one another, that is human motion and stillness. As for a person’s advance and retreat, the arising and ceasing of inner thoughts, the smooth and blocked course of affairs, and success and failure in undertakings—all arise from motion and stillness depending on each other and transforming into each other. By observing motion and stillness, one can see how all affairs change and how the ten thousand things take shape.

In stillness, one must hold to something worth keeping; in action, one must know what to watch for. In stillness one must have a clear stand, so that in action one can judge rightly; when the mind is settled in stillness, action is less often unlucky. Stillness is the root of action, and action is the opportunity that stillness gives birth to. When neither motion nor stillness strays from its proper measure, the Way becomes clear and plain.

Bending and Stretching, Section Five

When summer heat fades and cold arrives, that is the bending and stretching of the four seasons; when the sun departs and the moon rises, that is the bending and stretching of Qi; when antiquity passes and the present comes, that is the bending and stretching of human affairs. As for being and non-being generating each other, the difficult and the easy completing each other, the long and the short revealing each other, and the high and the low depending on each other—all belong to the principle of bending and stretching. Whoever understands how bending and stretching respond to each other can put to full use the inexhaustible benefit found throughout the world.

Waning and Waxing, Section Six

Cessation (xi) is the beginning of dispersal and extinction; dispersal and extinction are the end from which cessation-and-regeneration arises. Cessation is the gathering of Qi; dispersal is the dissolution of form. Nourishing growth is called the alternation of activity and rest; returning to the root and recovering the original state is called dispersal and extinction. In the Book of Changes, “yuan” and “heng” represent the aspect of change and growth; “li” and “zhen” represent the aspect of change and convergence. Spring and summer are the vigorous growing phase within a year; autumn and winter are the phase of convergence and storage. An infant maturing into adulthood is the body’s growing aspect; aging until life ends is the body’s dispersing and dying aspect. Things going from non-being to being is their growth; from being to non-being is their dispersal and extinction.

Cessation belongs to life; dispersal belongs to death. Since Yin and Yang qi first differentiated, there has never been a principle of only dispersing without growing again, nor of only growing without anything that disperses and perishes. One who understands this is someone who sees the patterns of things with full clarity.

The Numinous and the Mechanism, Part Seven

What is inner and cannot be seen is the numinous (shen); what appears and functions appropriately is the mechanism (ji). Stillness without movement is the numinous; being stirred and responding in turn is the mechanism. What is hidden or manifest and hard to fathom is the numinous; applying change without fixed form is the mechanism. What is stored within oneself is the numinous; extending to the ten thousand things and putting them to work is the mechanism. Omens before fortune and misfortune have appeared are the numinous; things constantly changing without fixed stop is the mechanism.

Embodying the four virtues of benevolence, righteousness, ritual propriety, and wisdom, and able to refine oneself unceasingly, is inwardly possessing the numinous; penetrating the three powers of Heaven, Earth, and humanity and applying them without limit is mastering the mechanism.

The wise person is one who deeply comprehends how things work; the practitioner is one who earnestly puts the Dao into practice. When one truly understands how things work, one can grasp situations without needing to see them with one’s own eyes; when one earnestly practices the Dao, one can achieve results even without deliberate striving.

“Without leaving the door, one knows the affairs of the world; without looking out through the window, one understands the way of Heaven”—this describes deep understanding. Unceasing self-exertion, never stopping—wherever one goes, one can adapt: this describes earnest practice.

To see disorder before chaos has erupted, to know danger before danger has appeared, to foresee a state’s fall before it has perished, to sense calamity before disaster has struck—this is deep understanding. To embody the Dao in oneself is to achieve results.

Without leaving the door, one knows the affairs of the world; without looking out through the window, one understands the way of Heaven—this describes deep understanding. Unceasing self-exertion, never stopping—wherever one goes, one can adapt: this describes earnest practice. To see disorder before chaos has erupted, to know danger before danger has appeared, to foresee a state’s fall before it has perished, to sense calamity before disaster has struck—this is deep understanding.

To keep the Dao within oneself yet not be burdened by the self; to act according to the heart-mind yet not be ruled by thoughts; to dwell in the world yet not be altered by worldly ways; to engage in affairs yet not be obstructed by them—this is earnest practice.

One who deeply understands can turn disorder into order, danger into safety, extinction into survival, and misfortune into blessing. One who earnestly practices the great Dao can bring one’s body into a state of long life and peace, one’s spirit (Shen) into a realm of depth and mystery, the world into great tranquility, and one’s undertakings to full success. Unless one is a person of great wisdom and great practice, who could accomplish this?

“Illuminating the Times,” Chapter Nine

When responding to the changes of things, what matters most is understanding the timely trend; understanding the timely trend depends most on grasping principle; grasping principle depends most on keeping the mind empty and still. When the mind is empty, one can see clearly; when the heart is still, one can be lucid. When lucid clarity is maintained within oneself, the principle of Heaven reveals itself.

The transformations of heaven and earth can be observed through the Book of Changes; the trends of the world can be verified through various signs; the true and false in things can be distinguished through outward form. Whatever has physical form must have something it relies upon; whatever shows color can be told apart by difference. When rain is about to fall, the air will first grow damp and warm; when a mountain is about to collapse, damage will first appear at its foot; when a person is about to meet gain or harm, the face will first show something unusual.

Just as a bird’s nest can foretell wind, a burrow can foretell rain, hibernating insects shift with the seasons, and falling leaves tell that autumn is near. Merchants, for example, placed pheasant tails on boats or carts to read weather: when fine weather was coming, the tail stood straight; when rain was coming, it drooped. Things without consciousness can still respond to change—how much more so human beings? Those who today cannot perceive shifts in the timely trend have not yet seen principle clearly.

Setting Oneself Right (Chapter Ten)

In cultivating virtue and advancing in learning, nothing is more important than setting oneself right. When the self is set right, what one does has a right foundation. Names and things cannot be established without being set right; affairs cannot be accomplished without being set right. Arrangements in daily conduct and how one treats others all begin from the self; matters, principles, and things all depend on what the self does.

Therefore the key to progress in cultivation must take setting oneself right as the foundation. Treat people with a right attitude and they tend toward what is right; handle affairs with a right attitude and they go on course; meet things with a right attitude and they are handled well. Only by holding fast to this fundamental “rightness” under heaven can one penetrate the myriad changes under heaven. From this it is clear that setting oneself right is a great function in the progress of cultivation and a step on the ladder to the sage’s realm.

Cultivation Practice (Chapter Eleven)

Keeping the mind clear and free of entanglements; cutting off stray thoughts and forgetting emotional desires; reducing selfishness and restraining cravings; preserving one’s plain, authentic nature—these are all methods of studying the Way of Change (Yi Dao). When the mind is clear and free of burdens, one can fully grasp how things work; when stray thoughts are severed and emotional desires forgotten, one can fully unfold one’s nature; when selfishness and desire are both removed, one can draw near to the Great Dao; when one’s nature is plain and unified, one can know the Way of Heaven.

Resonance and Response, Section Twelve

The mind is still yet in communion with the ten thousand things; one acts without deliberate effort yet completes all affairs; one knows without relying on observing external things—this is what the Way of Change calls ganying (resonance and response). Stillness with thorough penetration: nothing fails to be penetrated. Non-action (wuwei) yet accomplishment: nothing fails to be achieved. Knowing without outward observation: nothing fails to be known.

If one must act before there is any response, that cannot be called true penetration. If one must do something before affairs are accomplished, that cannot be called true achievement. If one must see with one’s own eyes before one knows, that cannot be called true knowing. These three cases are far from the way of resonance and response.

If one can truly handle matters well before they arise, respond when things have not yet stirred, and perceive when signs have not yet appeared, then these three aspects work together and advance without ceasing—there is no resonance that does not penetrate, no event that does not meet a response, and no situation that brings no benefit. To accomplish this completely was perhaps possible only for Yanzi (Yan Hui, disciple of Confucius)?

The Three Yi, Section Thirteen

The “Three Yi” are threefold: first, “Heaven Yi”; second, “Sage Yi”; third, “Heart-Mind Yi.” “Heaven Yi” refers to the principles of the Yi; “Sage Yi” refers to its images and hexagram figures; “Heart-Mind Yi” refers to the Dao embodied in the Yi.

In studying “Sage Yi,” the key is to understand the hexagram figures; once the figures are clear, one can enter the sage’s realm. In studying “Heaven Yi,” the key is to exhaust principle; once principle is exhausted, one can know the Way of Heaven. In studying “Heart-Mind Yi,” the key is to practice the Dao; when the Dao is practiced, one can fully apprehend the original heart-mind.

Without reading the Yi composed by the sages, one cannot understand “Heaven Yi”; without understanding “Heaven Yi,” one cannot know “Heart-Mind Yi”; without knowing “Heart-Mind Yi,” one is not equipped to master change. From this it is clear that the Yi is a book about penetrating change.

Dispelling Doubts, Section Fourteen

The waxing and waning of qi, the rise and fall of the seasons, the ups and downs of fortune, and whether the times are open or obstructed belong to the “Heavenly Change” (Tianyi)—the patterns by which nature runs its course. The auspicious and inauspicious shown in the hexagrams, gain and loss in the line positions, ease or danger in the hexagram statements, and whether the images are clear or hidden belong to the “Sage’s Change” (Shengyi)—the principles of the Changes as expounded by the sages. Whether a person’s lot is blocked or flourishing, whether one advances or retreats in life, whether undertakings succeed or fail, and whether office is secure or perilous belong to the “Heart’s Change” (Xinyi)—change as it appears in human disposition and choice.

To grasp the Heavenly Change deeply is to understand the times; to grasp the Sage’s Change deeply is to understand transformation; to grasp the Heart’s Change deeply is to know nature and life (xingming). Using the Heart’s Change to comprehend the Sage’s Change, using the Sage’s Change to infer the Heavenly Change, and then taking the Heavenly Change as a mirror for the Heart’s Change—uniting all three in one—such a person is called a “supreme adept” (zhishi), one who has penetrated the deepest clarity.

The changes of worldly affairs follow the times; whether one is secure or in peril, the key lies in oneself. Misfortune and fortune, loss and gain, all begin from oneself. Therefore those who are good at meeting change align with the times; those who align with the times can turn danger into safety even when threatened. Those skilled at adapting can bring order even amid disorder. Those who hold fast to principle can reach clarity even in hardship; those who act without caution, even in abundance, lose their footing.

Those who know how to temper their edge can avoid harm even in periods like Mingyi (when light is obscured and the situation is dim); those who lean on everything they possess, in circumstances like Dayou (great fullness and wealth), easily invite disaster. Responding in harmony across a thousand miles happens because aims are shared; failing to agree though face to face happens because hearts are at odds. The weak can prevail because they gain support; the strong can avoid error because their conduct accords with reason.

The Hexagram Yì (Increase) says that meeting something dangerous can still bring increase, in order to relieve distress; the Hexagram Kuí (Opposition) says that one should go to see someone one dislikes, in order to dissolve resentment. Those whose virtue cannot endure cannot stand firm; those who do not value themselves have no basis from which to act. Those who insist alone and trust only themselves find it hard to succeed; those who stay wary and constantly examine and correct themselves receive blessing.

When you benefit others, others benefit you in return; when you seek profit for others, others seek profit for you; when you treat others with sincerity, others trust you; when you show kindness, others repay kindness. If you fear danger, you can avoid danger; if you guard against fault, you can avoid calamity. Those who fear calamity find fortune arriving in the end; those who treat fortune lightly find calamity close behind. Seen this way, safety and danger truly depend on oneself—what room is there for doubt?

Sage Merit Sixteen

Why sages become sages is simply that they are good at using “change”—yielding to transformation and responding flexibly. And the ability to accomplish merit through this lies only in emptiness and stillness. When the heart-mind is empty, nothing cannot be held; when the inner mind is quiet, things can be seen clearly. Emptiness, therefore, can receive the ten thousand things; stillness, therefore, can meet affairs. Long sustained emptiness and stillness make the spirit bright.

Emptiness is the emblem of Heaven; stillness is the emblem of Earth. Unceasing self-exertion without rest is Heaven’s emptiness; virtue deep and able to bear the ten thousand things is Earth’s stillness. Heaven is vast without bound—that is emptiness; Earth is broad without limit—that is stillness. The principle by which Heaven and Earth operate comes down to emptiness and stillness. If one can keep emptiness and stillness in oneself, it is as if the Way of Heaven and Earth were gathered in one’s person. The Daojing says: “If people can always preserve clarity and stillness, Heaven and Earth will return within them.” That is what is meant, is it not? Clarity is emptiness; the realm of empty stillness is roughly where the virtue of spirit and the merit of sages reside.

Zhonghe ji (Collected Harmony), juan 2. Composed by Li Daochun, Master Qing’an Yingchan of Duliang, styled Yuansu; edited by his disciple Cai Zhiyi, Master Sun’an Baochan.

Secret Essentials of the Golden Elixir

Exposition of the Golden Elixir Illustrations

The four illustrations below use images to show the principle and express the profound, subtle intent of the utmost Way.

Illustration of Setting Up the Furnace

The root principle that props Heaven and bears Earth is exceedingly subtle—who gave it the name “jade furnace”?

I once underwent refinement within it; manifesting from nothing and returning from something to nothing were both completed through it.

Here “furnace” is a symbol in Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation—the place or process of refining body-mind and nurturing essence, Qi, and spirit.

Illustration of Erecting the Cauldron

It is neither being nor non-being, nor between the two; outside is void, inside is empty stillness.

The bold cultivator lifts the cover and looks—and finds that original face was bright pure Yang all along.

Like the furnace, the “cauldron” is a symbol in Neidan cultivation; “originally red” uses color to express its pure Yang, luminous nature.

Illustration of Returning the Elixir

Before the Buddha King of Awesome Voice appeared, there was brightness originally; afterward it was obscured by illusory form and became dim.

If it can be brought forth through Golden Elixir cultivation, it becomes perfectly round without gap, reaching the utmost realm of empty spirit.

Illustration of Returning to the Root

The root body of Dao is originally Wuwei (non-action); all accords with nature. Sages set up illustrations and use names only as expedient expression.

The principle appears complete in everyday life; only when these images and names are broken through does one know Dao was originally prior to Heaven, Earth, and the ten thousand things.

Verse on the Two Illustrations

Take the middle part from the diagram, supplement and restore the pure Yang state symbolized by the Qian trigram, the root of life is thereby made firm, and the pearl of the nature-spirit becomes full and unobstructed.

By aligning with and receiving the full scope of heavenly principle, turning away from the dust of the world, and matching the highest Chan teaching, one knows where to begin gathering and refining the lead-and-mercury elixir; after three tiers of cultivation, the fetal immortal—the spirit embryo formed in practice—can rise and dance.

Mantra diagrams, metaphor diagrams, and fire-phase diagrams.

Eleventh month, twelfth month, first month, second month. By aligning with and receiving the full scope of heavenly principle, turning away from the dust of the world, and matching the highest Chan teaching, one knows where to begin gathering and refining the lead-and-mercury elixir; after three tiers of cultivation, the fetal immortal can rise and dance.

Mantra diagrams, metaphor diagrams, and fire-phase diagrams.

Eleventh, twelfth, first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth months.

First, third, sixth, and eighth days of the month; eleventh, full moon (fifteenth), fourteenth, sixteenth, eighteenth, twenty-second, twenty-third, twenty-sixth, and twenty-eighth days.

Zi, Chou, Yin, Mao, Chen, Si, Wu, Wei, Shen, You, Xu, and Hai (the twelve earthly branches).

Mystic palace advance, gradual advance, bathing, Silver River, passing the Jade Pass, stopping, Kunlun Mountain, retreat, gradual retreat, bathing, Crimson Palace, guarding the center, and battle.

Fu, Lin, Tai, Da Zhuang, Guai, Qian, Gou, Dun, Pi, Guan, Bo, and Kun (the twelve hexagrams in the King Wen sequence).

Initial nine, second nine, third nine, fourth nine, fifth nine, top nine; initial six, second six, third six, fourth six, fifth six, top six (the changing lines of the hexagrams).

Illustrated Explanation of Inner and Outer Medicine in the Golden Elixir

Outer medicine can treat illness and can also extend life and preserve clear sight; inner medicine can transcend the ordinary world and move freely between being and non-being.

Ordinary seekers must begin with outer medicine before they can recognize inner medicine. Outstanding cultivators who have long planted the roots of virtue are born knowing how to pass beyond the realm of form and to enter and exit being and non-being; therefore they do not refine outer medicine and cultivate inner medicine directly.

Inner medicine takes Wuwei (non-action) as its foundation, yet nothing is left undone; outer medicine involves deliberate action and has concrete methods. Inner medicine has no shape or tangible quality, yet it truly exists; outer medicine has form and effect, yet in ultimate terms it is empty.

Outer medicine belongs to cultivation of the color body—the physical flesh; inner medicine belongs to cultivation of the Dharma body—the body realized in practice. Outer medicine is the path of earthly immortals; inner medicine is the path of aquatic immortals. Only when both inner and outer medicines are fully cultivated does one walk the path of celestial immortals. Outer medicine cultivates life; inner medicine cultivates mind-nature; when both medicines are complete, form and spirit both reach a subtle, transcendent state.

Outer Medicine

At the first pass—the initial stage of practice—one refines Jing (essence) into Qi (vital energy). One must first discern when Tiangui (the sign of human essence stirring) arises, and at that moment gather and refine it swiftly.

The middle pass is the stage of refining Qi (vital energy) to transform Shen (spirit). By harmonizing the true breath—the even, subtle breath cultivated in practice—Qi is made to circulate through the body above and below, inside and outside. Qi moves in reverse from the Taixuan pass, meets at the Tian valley point, then descends to the Yellow Chamber and enters the Middle Palace. After Yin and Yang (the creative and receptive) unite, a single thread of true Qi settles in the Yellow Court, the key locus in the body for this work.

The upper pass is the stage of refining Shen to return to emptiness (Xu). Using mind to gather and refine thoughts is called “seven returns”; letting desire and emotion return to original nature is called “nine returns.”

Internal medicine is a central theme in cultivating Shen, until form and spirit are both refined and united with the Dao (the Way).

Internal medicine refers to the single point of innate true Yang. The Book of Changes (Yijing) hexagrams illustrate it: the middle line of Qian (Heaven) joins Kun (Earth) to form Kan. The Yang line at the center of Kan originally belongs to Qian metal, hence it is also called “gold within water,” and together these are called “supreme Jing (essence).” When supreme Jing congeals, it can revert to ancestral Qi (Zuqi)—the primordial, empty, undivided original Qi, not the breath of ordinary respiration.

After the middle line of Qian meets Kun to form Kan, the Yin from Kun enters Qian and forms Li. The Yin line at the center of Li originally belongs to Kun earth, hence it is also called “mercury within cinnabar sand.”

“The Dao gives birth to One; One gives birth to Two; Two gives birth to Three; Three gives birth to the ten thousand things—emptiness transforms into Shen, Shen into Qi, Qi into Jing, Jing into form” describes the forward, generative sequence.

“The ten thousand things contain Three; Three returns to Two; Two returns to One—refine down to Jing, Jing transforms into Qi, Qi into Shen” describes the reverse sequence. Alchemical texts say: “Going forward makes an ordinary person; going in reverse can form the elixir (Dan).”

The supreme medicine is divided into three grades: Jing, Qi, and Shen. In essence they are one; in function they split into inner and outer aspects. “Essence” here means Jing, Qi, and Shen were originally one body; “function” means the two lines of practice—internal medicine and external medicine.

The inner elixir (the innate internal “medicine” of practice) comprises the innate supreme essence (Jing), the empty, formless primordial Qi (yuanqi), and the indestructible primordial spirit (yuanshen). The outer elixir (what is used in postnatal cultivation) comprises essence generated through the union of yin and yang, the Qi of breathing, and the spirit of discursive thought.

Diagrams of the initial pass, middle pass, and upper pass:

First, refining essence into Qi (lianjing huaqi): the initial pass belongs to “active” (youwei) methods. The gist is explained through “taking from Kan to fill Li”—adjusting the yin–yang of body and mind symbolized by the Kan and Li trigrams.

Second, refining Qi into spirit (lianqi huashen): the middle pass treats the mutual meeting and blending of being and non-being, illustrated by the opening and closing of Qian and Kun—the waxing and waning of cosmic yin and yang.

Third, refining spirit to return to emptiness (lianshen huanxu): the upper pass belongs to “non-active” (wuwei) methods.

When these three stages are complete, all resolves into one body. If you truly grasp the point here, the great enterprise of Daoism, Buddhism, and Confucianism is fulfilled; if not, continue carefully investigating what follows.

One: Refining Essence into Qi

To enter the Great Way, one must seek the mystery in the Water Palace (the symbolic storehouse of essence-Qi within the body). The alchemical texts say: “When Gui Water stirs, gather and refine at once; wait too long and the moment is lost.” “Gathering” here means gathering without clinging—only then is it true “gathering.” If you actually grasp at something, how can the single line in Kan rise?

Essence is what the innate supreme spirit produces when it stirs; because of that stirring, form appears. Cultivation seeks the mystery within oneself. The texts again say: “When Gui Water stirs, gather and refine at once; wait too long and the moment is lost.” “Gathering” is still gathering without clinging; if you deliberately seize, the line in Kan cannot ascend.

Essence is the transformation of the innate supreme spirit; the supreme essence in the human body is original yang (yuanyang). What gathering-and-refining targets is precisely this original yang. Take the Qian trigram as the innate supreme spirit: at the first stirring it joins with Kun, forming Kan—symbolizing the supreme spirit turning into primordial essence (yuanjing). Kan belongs to water, yet the single line within Kan is the metal of Qian, hence “gold within water.” Metal is the mother of water yet hidden inside water—thus “the mother conceals the child in the womb.”

The timing and secret of gathering lead (cai qian—the alchemical work on essence-Qi) cannot be fully put in writing. Those who understand see the Zhouyi’s Fu hexagram—“thunder in the earth”—and the ancient king’s closing the passes at the winter solstice, halting merchants and not touring the four quarters, and grasp more than half; the rest still requires oral transmission.

Two: Refining Qi into Spirit

From a Buddhist angle, this is cultivating concentration in the Li Palace (the symbolic seat of mind-spirit). The alchemical texts say: “True earth restrains true lead; true lead restrains true mercury…”

Those who devote themselves to Buddhist-style cultivation leave their homes and dwellings to practice in quiet mountains. The Danshu (Elixir Writings) says: “True Earth can restrain True Lead, and True Lead can restrain True Mercury; when Lead and Mercury return to the Earth Cauldron, body and mind become still and unmoving.” In these few lines the essential meaning is already complete. Once True Lead is obtained, why worry that True Mercury will not coalesce?

The key to cultivating Qi (vital energy) is to set the Qi in motion: opening and closing, going and coming, ascending and descending, without pause or rest. At first one must guide it with intention; afterward it moves on its own. Each breath is like seizing a year’s worth of heaven-and-earth creation. This is exactly what the Daodejing (Classic of the Way and Virtue) means: “The gate of the Mysterious Female is the root of heaven and earth; it seems to exist yet seems not to; use it and there is no need to force.” Whoever grasps this principle need only attend carefully to the pivotal changes in the Qian and Kun hexagrams and to the patterns of the Fu and Gou hexagrams, and the essentials of cultivating Qi will be complete.

III. Refining Spirit and Returning to Emptiness

When practice has reached this stage, not a single word is needed anymore.

Commentary on the Sanwu Zhinan Tu (Three-Five Guide Chart)

The Purple Yang Real Person wrote in the Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality): “Three, five, one—all lie in these three words; from ancient times to the present, those who truly understand are exceedingly few. Three in the east and two in the south combine as five; one in the north and four in the west also combine as five; Wu and Ji are counted as five in the generative numbers of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). When the three families meet, they form the Infant; the Infant is a single mass of condensed true Qi. After ten months the fetal Qi matures, and the foundation for entering sainthood is laid.”

These fifty-six characters run through the hundred schools and every kind of elixir classic and master’s book. If one can truly see the meaning within them, study and practice may be considered complete; if one has not yet understood, one must go on seeking through commentaries and explanations.

The three characters “san-wu-yi” (351) stand for the Three Origins (sanyuan), the Five Phases (wuxing), and the One Qi. From ancient times until now, very few people have truly understood what they mean.

“East three and south two together make five”: east corresponds to three and belongs to Wood; south corresponds to two and belongs to Fire. Wood generates fire—wood is the mother of fire—so when the two mutually generate and harmonize, they are together called “together making five.”

“North one and west four share it”: north corresponds to one and belongs to Water; west corresponds to four and belongs to Metal. Metal generates water—metal is the mother of water—so when the two mutually generate and harmonize, it is called “sharing it.”

In “Wu and Ji still follow the generating number five,” the “five” is the generating number of Earth. Earth occupies the center and forms a category of its own, so it stands as a separate “household.”

What is meant by “the three families meet” is that the Three Origins and the Five Phases fuse into one; hence it is said, “when the three families meet, the infant is formed.” “Infant” here is borrowed language: it means utterly pure and undivided, which is why it is said, “the infant is the one that holds true Qi.”

“After ten months the fetus is complete and enters the foundation of sagehood” means that through three hundred days of practice, the “two-eight pair of medicines” is cooked to maturity, laying the foundation for transcending the ordinary and entering sagehood.

In terms of the human body, the east corresponds to Wood and to one’s original nature (xing); the west corresponds to Metal and to one’s emotions; the south corresponds to Fire and to one’s shen (spirit); the north corresponds to Water and to one’s jing (essence). Here, xing is what governs the heart, and the heart is where shen dwells—so both xing and shen depend on the heart. The “three” of the east and the “two” of the south combine to make “five.”

Jing is what governs the body, and the body is where emotions are anchored—so both jing and emotions depend on the body. The “one” of the north and the “four” of the west likewise combine to make “five.” Wu and Ji belong to Earth at the center and correspond to intentional thought (yi). The Four Images and the Five Phases are all governed by yi; yi has no opposite pole and stands complete in itself.

If a cultivator can gather in body, heart-mind, and yi, the three treasures (jing, qi, and shen) and the Five Phases will naturally merge into one. What alchemical texts mean by “gather body and heart-mind to gather the medicine” is exactly this. The key to gathering body and heart-mind lies in emptiness and stillness: when the heart-mind is empty, shen merges with xing; when the body is quiet, jing and emotions settle into silence; when yi reaches great stillness (da ding), the three treasures blend into one. This is what is meant by “the three flowers gather,” “the five qi pay homage,” and “the sacred embryo coalesces.”

When emotion and desire merge with original nature, it is called “Jinmu Bing” (Metal and Wood united); when Jing and Shen merge, it is called “Shuihuo Jiao” (Water and Fire intercourse); when intention is fully settled, it is called “Wuxing Quan” (the Five Phases complete).

The alchemical texts say: “Refining Jing into Qi is the first gate—the body does not move; refining Qi into Shen is the middle gate—the mind does not move; refining Shen into emptiness is the upper gate—intention does not move.” When the mind does not move, it symbolizes the Wood of the East (number three) and the Fire of the South (number two) combining into five; when the body does not move, it symbolizes the Water of the North (number one) and the Metal of the West (number four) uniting; when intention does not move, then the Earth of Wu and Ji (number five) refines Shen into emptiness. When body, mind, and intention are one, that is “Three Families meet,” forming the “Infant” (in internal alchemy, the symbol of the newly born Yuanshen, the original spirit). To grasp this is to complete Golden Elixir (Jindan) practice; the great matter of becoming an immortal is then fulfilled. The various metaphors and alternate names in alchemical books, in the end, never depart from body, mind, and intention. If someone still cannot see it directly, what follows uses different names, images, and diagrams to explain—let those with clear eyes ponder carefully.

Illustrative diagram

Figure 1

Figure 2

Body, mind, and intention are called the “Three Families”; Jing, Qi, and Shen are called the “Three Origins”; Jing, Shen, Hun, Po, and intention are called the “Five Qi”; lead, mercury, silver, cinnabar, and earth are called the “Five Phases (Wuxing).” “Three Families meet” is called “embryo complete (taiyuan)”; “Three Origins united” is called “elixir formed (dancheng).”

Written at Zhonghe Hermitage in Luanjiang, on the birthday of Pure Yang (Chunyang), in the third year of the Dade era.

The Profound Pass, Single Aperture (Xuan Guan Yi Qiao) (for a disciple)

What is called the “Profound Pass, Single Aperture” is the most hidden and most essential gate of cultivation. It is not the Yintang (between the eyebrows), the crown of the head, the navel, the bladder…

The so-called “Xuanguan yique”—the single opening of the Mysterious Pass—is an extremely subtle yet pivotal hub. It is not the Yintang (between the eyebrows), the crown of the head, the navel, the bladder, or the two kidneys; nor is it “in front of the kidneys and behind the navel” or “between the two kidneys.” From crown to heel, wherever in the body you fix on and insist that one spot is it, you are wrong. Yet you cannot leave your own person and seek it outside. Therefore the sages indicate it with a single word, zhong—the Center: this Center is the Xuanguan.

Let me use an analogy so it is easier to grasp. A puppet’s limbs move and perform all sorts of actions—not because the puppet moves itself, but because strings pull it. Though the strings tug at the puppet’s joints, what truly controls it is the puppeteer. Do you recognize this puppeteer? Do not doubt further; I will tell you plainly: the puppet stands for the human body, the strings for the Xuanguan, and the puppeteer for the “host” or true master—the sovereign behind the body-mind’s activity. The movements of the body’s limbs are not something the limbs themselves can govern; the Xuanguan makes them move. Though the Xuanguan is at work, it is the host who drives the Xuanguan. Once you know this hub from which activity arises, why worry that you cannot attain transcendence?

The Golden Elixir takes inner emptiness and non-being as its root and purity and stillness as its function—it is the supreme, most genuine, and most subtle Dao. Few people in the world truly understand it, and even fewer practice accordingly. Therefore the sages employ various skillful means and benevolent guidance for the world, provisionally setting names and symbols and writing them into alchemical texts to lead later students. The sages hoped that those who came after would recite these words, grasp their meaning, then silently apprehend and integrate them inwardly; practicing thus, one could swiftly transcend the ordinary and enter the realm of truth.

Regrettably, later people did not investigate the underlying principle. They clung only to words and metaphors, pulling and interpreting them at will until everything was fragmented. They split the supreme Dao into many winding bypaths, claiming there were three thousand six hundred methods. This truly happened because they never received genuine transmission. Nowadays some people of shallow insight further annotate the sages’ scriptures at random, with errors all the more serious—how could they not mislead those who follow? Even those who practice with sincere devotion find it hard to tell orthodox from heterodox—a thing truly pitiable.

For this reason I have written Touchstone (Shijinshi), to distinguish true from false methods of cultivation, so that students are not deluded, can stand firm without doubt, and go straight to the far shore of the Dao. The holy master said: “The Dao has three thousand six hundred gates; each person clings to one gate as their root. Who knows that the one point of mystery is actually not found within those three thousand six hundred gates?” I believe the patriarch wrote this poem with earnest compassionate intent. If someone can share this insight, they may see the whole earth as gold. If they have not yet understood, they should test and verify for themselves—hence these words.

Nine Grades

The nine grades fall into three categories: lower-grade heterodox paths, middle-grade external paths, and upper-grade bypaths.

Gradual Method: Three Vehicles

Methods of gradual cultivation divide into three vehicles: the lower vehicle is the method of ease and comfort; the middle vehicle is the method of nurturing life; the upper vehicle is the method of extending life.

Supreme Single Vehicle

The supreme single vehicle is the wondrous Dao of the highest truth.

Nine Grades of Bypaths: Lower Three

This category includes bedroom arts with women (fangzhong techniques that seek cultivation through union with women), Three Peaks battle-and-gather methods (practices framed around gathering and supplementing vital essence), feeding on milk and “facing the furnace,” and similar approaches. These methods treat women as the ding (the alchemical cauldron), treat tiangui (menstrual fluid) as the medicine, and claim that thereby one can generate true Qi and achieve mysterious effects.

Nine Grades of Heterodox Methods

The Lower Three Grades

Some practices belong to fangzhong (bedchamber arts), such as “dominating women in the bedchamber,” “Three Peaks battle-capture,” and “nursing at the breast facing the furnace.” They treat women as the dinglu (cauldron-furnace), menstrual blood (tiangui) as medicinals, the birth gate as the place where life emerges, and essence-blood as material for the Great Elixir; they also cast so-called “male-and-female swords” and set up yin-yang furnaces. They claim that women are “pure yang,” call menstrual blood a supreme treasure, and say that ingesting it constitutes “returning once a month”; using nine women as the “nine cauldrons” yields “nine returns in nine years”; they have boys and girls copulate to gather “initial essence”; and they name a millet-grain–sized substance in the yin as the Mysterious Pearl. There are also methods called “Golden Flower,” “Wielding the Golden Spear,” and the “seventy-two schools,” which stress overcoming by force, “much in, little out,” and “nine shallow, one deep.” These absurd, deviant methods are called “mud-and-water elixir ways”; there are more than three hundred of them. They are heterodox arts that disturb the Dao, and rank as the lowest within the lower grade.

There are also the so-called “eighty-four schools of coupling,” “thirty-six kinds of yin-gathering,” treating the placenta as the Purple River Cart, refining urine into qiushi (lit. “autumn stone”), calling the eating of one’s own semen “return to the origin,” and pressing the weilü (near the tail of the spine) “closing the pass”; husband and wife unite without emitting semen, called “without leakage”; gathering a woman’s menstrual blood, called the Red Round Pellet. Some use the Five Metals and Eight Minerals to compound pills, have a woman take them, and after ten months a fleshy mass is born, which they call the supreme medicine, then gather and ingest it. Such absurd techniques need not be listed one by one; there are roughly three hundred kinds. These belong to the middle rank within the lower grade and are classified as outer paths (waidao).

Still other methods are furnace-and-fire elixir arts, smelting the Five Metals and Eight Minerals, with talk of “hooking Geng and drying Mercury,” “dotting Mao and firing Gen,” and the like—poking at furnace ash and manipulating firing phases until external medicinals such as processed cinnabar are produced. There are also “three deferrals and five falsities” and methods of ingesting metal, stone, and plant drugs—more than four hundred kinds in all. These belong to the upper rank within the lower grade and are still outer paths.

The lower grade within the lower three tiers comprises over a thousand methods, intended for those who crave sensual pleasure and material gain.

Middle Three Tiers

Some people abstain from grain and practice bigu (grain avoidance), endure cold, and consume foul substances; they take drugs such as pepper and tree-bark preparations; they expose their backs to the sun or lie on ice; they eat only one vegetarian meal a day, or maintain long-term purification fasts. Some eat only exotic foods, or take not getting drunk from wine as proof of attainment; some reduce food intake, calling it “chou tian” (withdrawal and replenishment); some avoid the five flavors and eat only the so-called “three whites,” or eat nothing cooked; others drink wine and eat meat without regard for their own lives, yet claim this is wuwei (non-action). Still others perform tricks such as “stirring rivers and overturning seas”—all such showmanship belongs to the lower grade of the middle tier.

Some swallow mist and light, practice breath circulation, gather the essence of sun and moon or swallow the radiance of stars, or draw in the qi of the five directions or of water and fire; some through visualization (cunsi) and focused intent send the spirit wandering through the nine provinces. Others imagine yin and yang within the body becoming male and female and imitate human sexual union, calling it “hehe” (union). Such visualization and assorted empty methods belong to the middle grade of the middle tier.

Some transmit the Three Refuges and Five Precepts, expound, recite, and cultivate them, learn and teach the dharma of faith; they also use techniques to seek karmic response, perform summoning rites to seek return, or cultivate methods such as the “Ten Faiths of Return to Emptiness,” the “Three Falsities,” and the “Nine Contacts of the Three Limits.” Some gaze at stars and bow to the Big Dipper, or keep a vow of silence, or perform arduous labor and maintain outward merit. These deliberate, effortful practices belong to the upper grade of the middle tier and already draw near to the Dao.

The middle three tiers together comprise over a thousand methods. If one persists in practice, the realm gradually improves—better than fixing the mind elsewhere.

Upper Three Tiers

Fixed contemplation, mirror visualization, visualization with breath circulation, and massage to regulate qi; practicing Baduanjin (Eight Pieces of Brocade) and the Six-Character Formula, visualizing the gate at the crown, holding intent at the dantian (energy center) below the navel, swallowing or churning saliva in the mouth. Some call repeated rinsing and swallowing saliva “a thousand mouthfuls of water for life,” and compare the tongue to the “red dragon”; some rub the body until it grows warm to master “fire timing”; some use exhaled breath and massage to seek longevity; some refine thick saliva into a “true seed”; some hold intent at the dantian or retract the external kidneys (genitals near the perineum). Others use methods such as “boiling the sea while observing the nose,” treating saliva, seminal fluid, and spittle as medicine. These belong to the lower grade of the upper tier.

Methods such as breath retention to regulate qi, flexing and stretching the body to guide and circulate qi and blood, massaging the waist and kidneys, fixing attention on the yintang (between the eyebrows), rotating the eyes, mobilizing the jiaji (the region along the spine in the back), fixing attention on the navel wheel (the navel region), or visualizing the eyes as sun and moon, the space between the brows as the mysterious pass (a gate used in practice to gather the spirit and enter stillness), and knocking the teeth as opening the heavenly gate (a gate at the crown)—or visualizing medicinal substances—belong to the lower tier within the upper grade.

Breath retention and qi regulation, bodily daoyin, massaging waist and kidneys, fixing attention on yintang, rotating the eyes, mobilizing jiaji, fixing attention on the navel wheel; or visualizing the eyes as sun and moon, the brow as the mysterious pass, and tooth-knocking as the heavenly gate; or visualizing the original spirit (the person’s spiritual root) entering and leaving through the crown gate, wandering in an immortal realm in dreams, silently paying homage to the Highest Emperor; or taking drowsiness as entering samadhi and counting breaths as fire phases (timing and measure in refining and nurturing); or visualizing black and white qi of heart and kidney joining in the “already accomplished” (yiji) state of yin-yang harmony and mutual blending—these belong to the middle tier within the upper grade.

Circulating refined qi so that the three fires (terms for inner “fire” in practice) return to the navel, harmonizing the five viscera, practicing the sixteen contemplations, guarding the dantian, ingesting the central yellow qi (a cultivation term for the central qi within the body), cycling qi of the upper, middle, and lower dantian in return, replenishing the brain and restoring essence, double lifting of the golden wells (a pulling-and-gathering action in practice), opening the paired passes at jiaji, fist-clenching with inward gazing (clenching the fists to gather the spirit and look within), and similar circulating methods belong to the top tier within the upper grade.

The methods listed in these three tiers of the upper grade number more than a thousand kinds. Those of middling capacity who practice them can also dispel illness.

Gradual Method: Three Vehicles

Practitioners of the lower vehicle take body and mind-spirit as the cauldron-furnace (the site of refinement), take essence-qi as the medicine, take heart and kidney as water and fire, the five viscera as the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), liver and lung as dragon and tiger, and essence as the true seed. They arrange fire phases by year, month, day, and hour, take swallowing saliva as ablution, use mouth and nose as the three essentials (three key loci or passes in practice), take the region between the front of the kidneys and behind the navel as the mysterious pass, and take fusing the qi of the Five Phases into one as formation of the elixir. This is a steady, peaceful path of practice, with more than a hundred specific procedures. If one can forget lust and desire, one can also nurture life. It resembles somewhat the upper, middle, and lower tiers described above, but the concrete steps of practice differ.

Middle-vehicle cultivation takes Qian and Kun (heaven and earth) as the cauldron and vessel, Kan and Li (water and fire) as symbols, and the black crow and white rabbit (sun and moon) as the medicinals; it treats essence (Jing), spirit (Shen), soul (Hun), corporeal soul (Po), and intent (Yi) as the Five Phases. It compares body and mind to the dragon and tiger, and takes Qi as the true seed; it takes the four seasons and the alternation of cold and heat as the “fire phases”—the timing and measure mastered in practice. What is called “watering by method” means nourishing and moistening through specific techniques; “the inner realm does not go out, the outer realm does not enter” means gathering the inner spirit and not being pulled by the outer world—this is called consolidation and stabilization. Taiyuan, the Crimson Palace, and the Essence Chamber are three vital places in practice; Niwan is the pass (Guan)—a critical aperture in cultivation. When spirit merges, it is called the elixir formed. This middle-vehicle method of nurturing life has dozens of specific functions, broadly the same as the lower vehicle with slight differences. If one persists, one can also attain long life and clear vision.

Upper-vehicle cultivation takes heaven and earth as the cauldron furnace, sun and moon as water and fire, and Yin-Yang as the pivot of change; it uses lead, mercury, silver, cinnabar, and earth to stand for the Five Phases, compares nature (Xing) and emotion (Qing) to the dragon and tiger, and takes thought (nian) as the true seed. Using the mind to refine thought is the fire phase; stopping scattered thoughts is tending the fire; holding light within is consolidation and stabilization; subduing inner demons is called field combat. Body, mind, and intent are the three vital places; the heart of heaven is the pass; when emotion returns to true nature, it is called the elixir formed; when harmonious Qi nourishes the whole body, it is called bathing. This is the upper-vehicle path of extending life; the method resembles the middle vehicle, but the points of actual work differ, and there are again more than ten items. Those of superior root who practice consistently to the end can realize the immortal way.

The supreme vehicle.

The highest level of cultivation is the supreme and most genuine wondrous Dao. The practitioner takes the Great Void (vast, formless emptiness) as the cauldron, Taiji (the primordial state before yin and yang divide yet containing both) as the furnace, purity and stillness as the foundation of refining the elixir, and wuwei (non-action) as the matrix of the medicinal substance. Nature (xing) and life (ming) are like lead and mercury; concentration (ding) and wisdom (hui) are like water and fire. Restraining desires and curbing anger merge water and fire; unity of nature and disposition merges metal and wood; cleansing the mind and clearing stray thoughts is bathing; maintaining sincerity and settling the heart is sealing and stabilizing (firming the cauldron and furnace so that the refined nourishing qi does not leak outward).

Precepts, concentration, and wisdom are the three essentials of practice; “the center” is the pass (the crucial locus in practice for recognizing the root of body and mind). Illuminating the mind is having confirmation in practice; seeing nature is stabilized accomplishment; when the three treasures blend as one, the sacred embryo forms (the inner foundation forged from jing, qi, shen, and related cultivation). When nature and life become one, the elixir is complete; a body beyond the body is shedding the shell (a cultivation stage symbolizing release from bodily bondage); only when the void is broken through is practice fully accomplished. These are the subtleties of cultivating the Dao at the highest level. Those who possess the Dao may practice accordingly; when merit and virtue are complete and deeds profound, one may directly transcend the realm of sudden enlightenment in perfect fusion, so that body and spirit both reach a marvelous state and unite with the Dao in truth.

Zhonghe ji (Collection of Central Harmony), juan 3.

Composed by Li Daichun, styled Yuansu, Master Yingchanzi of Qing’an in Duliang; edited by his disciple Cai Zhiyi, styled Baochanzi of Sun’an.

Recorded dialogues in question-and-answer form.

Master Jie’an, Qiongchanzi Cheng Andao, asked about the unified Way of the Three Teachings.

Master Yingchanzi sat quietly in the Chan cave. That night the cold moonlight was clear, the qi pure, and one felt a clean, approachable warmth.

The disciple Qiongchanzi reflected that birth and death are the great matter, the path of immortals is worthy of reverence, and accumulating merit and practice must be wholehearted. He bowed and asked: “Your disciple has heard that sages, lofty perfected ones (accomplished masters who attained the Dao), and immortals of every age all attained the Dao through true cultivation; refining the golden elixir must also take lead and mercury as the root. What exactly are lead and mercury?”

The master replied: “Lead and mercury are the beginning of heaven and earth, the mother of the ten thousand things…”

The master said: “Lead and mercury are the beginning of Heaven and Earth, the root of the ten thousand things, and also the foundation of refining the golden elixir. What is meant here is not ordinary lead, black tin, cinnabar, or vermilion. Alas, some people do not understand the truly subtle principle and interpret it at will from their own guesses, misleading later students. They waste many years in vain and lose a lifetime—truly regrettable! Without guidance from a genuine teacher, whatever one does is mere reckless action.”

Master Ziyang said: “Even if your intelligence surpasses that of Yan Hui and Min Ziqian, if you have not met a true teacher, do not force yourself to guess.” That is exactly the point. Now I will point out for you: the true lead and true mercury spoken of here refer to body and mind (xin). An earlier patriarch said: “The two words body and mind are both the medicine and also the fire.” He also said: “If you wish to know where the medicine arises, it is only in the root place of the southwest.” The southwest corresponds to the Kun trigram in the Bagua. Kun pertains to the body; the essence (jing) within the body is yang within yin.

For example, when the first line of the Qian trigram enters the Kun trigram, the Kan trigram is formed. Kan is yin on the outside and yang within—soft outside, firm inside—in other words, Kun outside and Qian within. Within the water of Kan is the metal of Qian; therefore one figuratively names it “metal in water.” What is called mercury is the qi in the mind—it is yin within yang. When the first line of the Kun trigram enters the Qian trigram, the Li trigram is formed. Li is yang on the outside and yin within—firm outside, soft inside—in other words, Qian outside and Kun within. Within the fire of Li is the earth of Kun; therefore one figuratively names it “mercury in cinnabar sand.”

The subtlety of essence and qi mutually responding and joining cannot be stated directly, so “lead” and “mercury” are borrowed as metaphors so that practitioners may understand that there are root substance and function within. Pursue this further, and the key does not go beyond the two words body and mind. Once body and mind are united, lead and mercury no longer exist as separate things.

Someone asked: “What is extraction and replenishment (choutian)?”

When the body is still and the breath is settled, this is called "drawing out" (chou); when the mind is unmoved and the spirit is settled, this is called "adding" (tian). When both body and mind are quiet, spirit gathers and breath congeals—this is called "return to origin" (huanyuan). Thus one takes the yang portion within the Kan trigram (symbolizing water and the kidneys) and supplements the yin portion within the Li trigram (symbolizing fire and the heart), transforming them into the Qian trigram (symbolizing pure yang)—this is called "drawing lead and adding mercury" (chou qian tian gong). It is a metaphor in internal alchemy (Neidan) practice, not the actual use of lead and mercury.

Question: "What is meant by refining and cooking (penglian)?"

Answer: "When body and mind are about to unite but have not yet fully united, if there is the slightest disturbance, one overcomes it with a firm, decisive mind—this is 'martial forging' (wulian). After body and mind are one and essence and breath have blended, one guards this state with a gentle mind—this is 'civil cooking' (wenpeng). The principle is not complicated: it is subduing body and mind—this is refining lead and cooking mercury. Forgetting desires and nurturing one's nature, making the mind empty and still and the spirit settled, letting all attachments cease at once and every thought become clear and pure. Body and mind unmoved, spirit gathering and breath congealing—this is the foundation of elixir-making, likened to the 'Sacred Embryo' (shengtai). The various names used earlier all mean using one's nature to govern emotional thoughts. When nature is still and emotional thoughts melt away, one sees the original face; holding to the root and returning to emptiness, returning to the source and recovering one's mandate—this is 'elixir perfected' (dancheng), likened to 'emerging from the shell' (tuotai)."

Question: "Many elixir scriptures say: 'The subtlety of cultivation lies in the Mysterious Pass (xuan guan).' Where exactly is the Mysterious Pass?"

Answer: "The Mysterious Pass is an extremely deep and subtle gate—how could it have a fixed location? If you pin it to a spot on the body, that is wrong; yet you cannot seek it outside yourself either."

The xuanguan (the pivotal pass in practice where body and mind connect and true nature appears) is an extremely subtle and mysterious hinge—how could it have a fixed location? If you identify it with a spot in the body, that is wrong; if you seek it outside the body, that is also wrong. Clinging to the body, you are trapped in form; clinging to the outer world, you are trapped in things. The xuanguan lies only where one does not fix on the Four Great Elements (earth, water, fire, and wind that compose the human body) or the Five Phases (metal, wood, water, fire, earth).

Let me use an analogy so you can grasp it easily: a puppet’s hands and feet can move and perform all kinds of dances because strings pull them, while the one who truly controls it is the person behind the scenes. The puppet is like the human body, the strings are like the xuanguan, and the master who pulls the strings is like one’s original true nature. Without strings the puppet cannot move; without the xuanguan a person cannot act. In every hour of the day—walking, standing, sitting, or lying down—apply effort inward: when you speak or stay silent, look or listen, what is it that actually functions? When body and mind grow quiet and the heart is clear, the genuine mechanism naturally responds and appears, and then you will see it.

The Xici commentary on the Yijing says “silent and unmoving”—that is the substance of the xuanguan; it says “stirring, then penetrating”—that is its function. Once you have personally realized the xuanguan, you can obtain it in one moment and not lose it for long. What practice calls medicine, firing times, the three origins, and the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) are all contained within this. If you take some visible thing with a fixed place to be the xuanguan, then however hard you cultivate or how firm your resolve, you will not succeed in the end. If I pointed directly at what it is, you might not believe it; even if you believed, you might not be able to use it—you must realize it yourself.

The Confucian learning of the xiantian (prior heaven) also stresses silent inward recognition. Mencius spoke of the “flood-like qi (vital energy), filling heaven and earth,” and said it is hard to put into words; is that ineffable subtlety not precisely the xuanguan? Buddhism emphasizes not relying on written words and a separate transmission outside the teaching, letting the mind directly apprehend what is called the incommunicable subtle principle. Understand this principle and you can move from grasping one truth to harmonizing all affairs.

Someone once asked what the principle governing heaven and earth might be, and I replied, “It is hard to put into words.” That ineffable subtlety is precisely the “mysterious pass” (xuanguan)—the pivotal gateway through which one enters the most recondite truths. It resembles the Buddhist teaching of “not relying on written words, a separate transmission outside the doctrine,” which asks us to grasp meaning directly in the heart; that is the wonder that language cannot hand down. Whoever truly understands this can see one principle and thereby harmonize all affairs.

Someone else asked: “People say that honoring Buddhism and cultivating the Dao can sever birth and death and rise above the round of rebirth, whereas Confucian learning fulfills human relationships yet cannot liberate one from birth and death. Are these not real differences among the three teachings?”

I answered: For one who has genuinely penetrated the Way, why should birth and death be a source of anxiety? “Investigating principle to the utmost, exhausting nature, and thereby arriving at mandate” means probing affairs and principles thoroughly, knowing one’s nature fully, and in that way coming to understand Heaven’s mandate. “Tracing the origin and returning to the end, knowing that which pervades the ten thousand things” means seeing how things move from beginning to completion and thereby understanding the whole cosmos. From there the meaning of birth and death becomes clear. The discipline that inquires into nature and life (xingming) belongs, in its orthodox line, to the Confucian tradition itself. If principle is fathomed to the end and the mind is lucid throughout, how could one fail to transcend the wheel of birth and death?

When Fu Xi first drew the Yijing, he shaped teaching in accord with the Way of Heaven and guided the world through the Dao. Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism had not yet split apart, so it is said: “Heaven has but one Dao; the sage has but one heart-mind.”

The first stroke, the single line “one,” stands for Taiji (Supreme Ultimate). When one divides into two, that is the Yin-Yang pair of modes. One line is Yang, one is Yin; where Yin and Yang meet, that is called the Dao. Fu Xi looked up at the sky and drew an upper line for heaven; looked down at the earth and drew a lower line for earth; and drew a middle line for the human being. Three lines make the Qian hexagram, standing for the three powers—heaven, earth, and humanity. Split and transform the lines of two Qian figures, and you get the Kun hexagram, standing for the six directions (above, below, and the four sides).

Hence: “The Way of Heaven shows as Yin and Yang; the Way of Earth as yielding and firm; the Way of Humanity as benevolence and righteousness.” Each of the three powers has a Yin and a Yang side; six lines together form the Kun hexagram.

Take the human body: the Yin and Yang of the Way of Heaven appear in the heart as Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy); the yielding and firm of the Way of Earth appear as the bodily form; the benevolence and righteousness of the Way of Humanity appear in intention as feeling and original nature. Heart, body, and intention match heaven, earth, and humanity in Qian; spirit and Qi, feeling and nature, and form match the six directions in Kun. The Yijing says, “From afar, take images from things; from near, take images from oneself”—that is the point.

Someone asked: “The Xici (Appended Phrases) says ‘six lines complete a hexagram (gua),’ yet you say ‘six lines complete Kun.’ Why?”

The master replied: “You have not grasped it yet. ‘Six lines complete a hexagram’ refers to King Wen stacking the eight trigrams into six-line hexagrams. King Wen had not yet…”

Someone says: You still do not understand. If you take a hexagram’s six lines to be the result of King Wen’s “doubling of trigrams” (stacking two three-line trigrams to form a six-line hexagram), then before King Wen doubled the trigrams, were there not already the principles of the Three Powers (Heaven, Earth, and Humanity) and the Six Harmonies?

The sages said: “Establishing the law of Heaven, we call it Yin and Yang”—this is the Qian–Kun principle as embodied in Heaven; “establishing the law of Earth, we call it yielding and firm”—this is the Qian–Kun principle as embodied in Earth; “establishing the law of Humanity, we call it benevolence and righteousness”—this is the Qian–Kun principle as embodied in humanity. From this we may infer that the two hexagrams Qian and Kun already contain the Three Powers and the Six Harmonies of Yin and Yang, yielding and firm, benevolence and righteousness. Why must we speak of these things only in terms of doubled trigrams? When we say that six lines compose one hexagram, we mean what is formed after doubling; that is what is called the post-heaven hexagrams.

Someone asks: If, before doubling, the principles of the Three Powers and Six Harmonies were already complete, then when the Xici says “those who fashion utensils take their models from the hexagram images,” does that mean there were utensils first and hexagram images were set up accordingly—or hexagram images first and utensils made accordingly?

The reply: Utensils are made according to the hexagram images. Before the hexagram images appeared, the principles of the Three Powers and Six Harmonies were already in place. When the Xici says “those who fashion utensils take their models from the hexagram images,” it means precisely that utensils are fashioned according to the images.

Someone asks again: Since the Three Sovereigns, when sages fashioned utensils they all explained matters by reference to doubled hexagrams. If utensils were made according to hexagram images, how could the notion of “doubling trigrams” have existed before King Wen restructured the Yi?

The reply: It is not so. The sages said: “One must believe that before the hexagram lines appeared, the principles of the Yi were already there.” Therefore, before King Wen doubled the trigrams, all sixty-four hexagrams were already complete.

Someone asks: If the trigrams were not overlapped, where did the sixty-four hexagrams come from?

The reply: The sixty-four hexagrams arise from change within the hexagrams. One hexagram can change into the eight trigrams, and the eight trigrams can change into sixty-four hexagrams. For example, in the three lines of the Qian hexagram, the upper two lines are young Yang and the lower line is old Yang; when old Yang changes into Yin, Qian differentiates into Xun. When Qian becomes Xun, they compose the hexagram “Heaven over Wind” (Gou). Take this one hexagram as an example; all the others can be explained in the same way.

Someone asks: If sixty-four hexagrams can exist without doubling trigrams, why did King Wen double them again?

Someone asked: “The hexagrams that Fu Xi (the August Sovereign) drew could change into the sixty-four hexagrams without stacking trigrams. That was the heart-method and orthodox lineage Fu Xi transmitted, guiding later learners toward the gate of sagehood. If there were already sixty-four hexagrams without stacking, why did King Wen still combine the trigrams to form them?”

The reply was: “When Fu Xi derived the sixty-four hexagrams without stacking, what he transmitted was the heart-method for cultivating nature and life. King Wen, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius, by contrast, formed the sixty-four hexagrams through stacking, in order to set norms for conduct in the world, rectify human relationships, help people seek fortune and avoid misfortune, and establish enduring principles such as those between ruler and minister and between father and son. Therefore the learning of nature and life should not be stated lightly in plain words, yet one cannot bear to hide the teaching entirely. Confucius hinted at it in the Appended Statements (Xici); Zhou Dunyi (Master Lianxi) clarified it in the Diagram of the Supreme Ultimate Explained (Taijitu Shuo) and the Penetrating the Classic (Tongshu). In doing so, they hoped that later students would reflect repeatedly and grasp it for themselves, so that this teaching would never be cut off.”

Someone asked: “How should we understand the phrase ‘one yin and one yang—that is called the Dao’?”

The reply was: “Yin and yang are Qian and Kun. Qian and Kun come from the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji); when the Supreme Ultimate divides, the two instruments (liangyi) are established. The two instruments are Heaven and Earth. One does not say Heaven and Earth but rather Qian and Kun because what matters is their function, not their physical form as entities.”

Someone asked again: “Qian belongs to yang and Kun to yin—so why speak of Heaven and Earth?”

Heaven and Earth are Qian and Kun; Qian and Kun are Yin-Yang; Yin-Yang together form one Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), and the root of Taiji is Wuji (the Limitless). Speaking from the perspective of Taiji, they are called Heaven and Earth; from the perspective of the Yi (Book of Changes), Qian and Kun; from the perspective of the Dao, Yin-Yang.

If we explain this in terms of the human body, Heaven and Earth correspond to the physical form, Qian and Kun to temperament and disposition, and Yin-Yang to spirit (Shen) and vital breath (Qi). In the language of imagery and analogy, the dragon stands for Heaven and the tiger for Earth; the horse for Qian and the ox for Kun; the crow for Yang and the rabbit for Yin.

From the standpoint of Golden Elixir cultivation, Heaven is the cauldron and Earth the furnace; Qian is metal and Kun is earth; Yin is “mercury” and Yang is “lead.” Here “lead” and “mercury” are symbolic terms in Neidan (internal alchemy), used to describe the harmonizing and refining of Yin-Yang essence and Qi.

Taken apart, they bear many different names; taken together, they are all one Yin and one Yang. The immortal cultivator refines lead and mercury into the elixir by bringing body and mind into unity and returning to the original state; by bringing Yin and Yang into unity and returning again to Taiji.

Question: What is meant by “three-five-one”?

The pairing of “Three Origins” (the qi of the three powers—Heaven, Earth, and Humanity) with the “Five Phases” (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) gives rise to the formula “three-five.” East counts as three, South as two; together they make five. North counts as one, West as four; together they also make five. The Center belongs to Earth, and Earth’s number is five—this is the third five. Hence the name “three-five.”

Using the human body and mind to explain: nature (xing) belongs to three, spirit (shen) to two—they form one five; emotion (qing) belongs to four, essence (jing) to one—they form a second five; intention (yi) belongs to five, the third five. When three-five unite as one, they return to Taiji (the primordial undifferentiated state before all things). When body, mind, and intention merge as one, one can form the “sacred embryo” (a metaphor in practice for the maturation of the inner elixir).

Ziyang Zhenren said: “The three words ‘three-five-one’ mean that the Three Origins and Five Phases return to a single qi. From antiquity to the present, those who truly grasp this have been exceedingly few.” East’s three is nature, South’s two is spirit, North’s one is essence, West’s four is emotion; Wu and Ji belong to central Earth—Earth’s number is five, standing for intention. When body, mind, and intention unite, they form the infant. Here “infant” is the function that appears when three-five are one; it is also a symbol of condensed true qi, another name for “true unity.” After ten months of cultivation the embryonic qi is complete, laying the foundation for entering the sacred realm—meaning shedding the ordinary body and transcending the mundane. From this it is clear that the Way of the Golden Elixir is indeed the foundation for entering the sacred realm.

Question: The Xici says: “When Heaven and Earth fix their upper and lower positions, the Way of Change runs within them.” How should this be understood?

Answer: Heaven and Earth each take their place; humans live between Heaven and Earth—this is called the “three powers” (Heaven, Earth, Humanity). Thus humans and the myriad things continually grow and multiply without end. The text does not say “humans and the myriad things” directly but says “Change,” because the sage uses Change to show that once Heaven and Earth are positioned, the transformations of the myriad things run within Heaven and Earth.

Some say: Heaven and earth each have their proper place, and humans stand between heaven and earth—hence they are called the “Three Talents” (Sancai: heaven, earth, and humanity). From this, humanity and the myriad things ceaselessly generate and renew. The scripture does not speak directly of people and the myriad things but speaks of the Yi (Change), because the sages said: “Qian and Kun (heaven and earth, yin and yang) are the gateway of the Yi. The myriad things change with the times, following the Great Dao.” For example, in Jindan (Golden Elixir) cultivation, Qian and Kun serve as the ding and qi (symbolic vessel and furnace of alchemy)—this is heaven and earth each having their place; using yin-yang as the motive force of transformation is the yin-yang aspect of Change operating within. From the yuanshi (initial stage) of gathering the medicine through continuously applying the fire (deploying firing phases to refine and nourish), one must constantly grasp the firing times (huohou).

Someone asked: “Opening the gate is called Qian, closing the gate is called Kun; one open and one close is called change. How should this be understood?”

The reply: One open and one close is one movement and one stillness. Qian belongs to yang and Kun to yin, like the opening and closing of a door—hence it is said that Qian and Kun are the gateway of the Yi. Yin and yang interact in motion and alternate in stillness; the pivot of change never rests, thereby forming yuan, heng, li, and zhen (the four phases of operation spoken of in the Yi), fixing the four seasons and making up a year. “Change” means transformation. The Great Dao and the spirit-qi (the subtle breath of life) blend and flow together, pervading the Three Talents and the myriad things; opening and closing and change are inexhaustible—at once vast and boundless, and also penetrating the finest detail.

In the human body, this change appears as breathing: exhaling connects with the heavenly root and is called “open”; inhaling connects with the earthly root and is called “close.” One exhalation and one inhalation generate the golden fluid (Jinye, the refined essence-fluid produced in practice)—this is called “change.” Opening, closing, and breathing are the gate of the Mysterious Female (Xuanpin, the portal where yin and yang generate each other) and the root of heaven and earth. The breathing spoken of here is not the breathing of mouth and nose, but the opening and closing of the true breath (Zhenxi, the inner breath of cultivation).

Someone asked: “The way of Qian completes the male; the way of Kun completes the female—what does this mean?”

Qian (Heaven) stands for the father and Kun (Earth) for the mother. When the bottom line of Qian joins with Kun, Zhen is produced; when Zhen draws its first yin line, the result is a male line, so it is called the eldest son. When the bottom line of Kun joins with Qian, Xun is produced; when Xun draws its first yang line, the result is a female line, so it is called the eldest daughter.

When the middle line of Qian joins with Kun, Kan is produced; on the second such exchange a male line is obtained, so it is called the middle son. When the middle line of Kun joins with Qian, Li is produced; on the second exchange a female line is obtained, so it is called the middle daughter. When the top line of Qian joins with Kun, Gen is produced; on the third exchange a male line is obtained, so it is called the youngest son. When the top line of Kun joins with Qian, Dui is produced; on the third exchange a female line is obtained, so it is called the youngest daughter. Thus Qian gives rise to three sons and Kun to three daughters; together with Qian and Kun themselves, the six offspring complete the Eight Trigrams (Bagua).

Regarding the human body: at the very beginning of conception one receives the refined essence (jing) of father and mother, and only then does the body take shape. Elixir scriptures compare this essence to “celestial ren” and “terrestrial gui.” At the moment of union, if celestial ren arrives first and terrestrial gui follows, a male fetus forms; if terrestrial gui arrives first and celestial ren follows, a female fetus forms; if ren and gui arrive together, twins form. If one arrives first and the other comes only after a long delay, pregnancy cannot succeed. Hence it is said that the way of Qian yields the male and the way of Kun yields the female.

So-called celestial ren and terrestrial gui are the primordial qi (vital energy) of Heaven and Earth; in elixir literature they are also called “Kan wu” and “Li ji,” and again “lead” and “mercury.” When essence is restrained outwardly, it can engender the human body; when it is nourished inwardly, it can be refined into Neidan (internal alchemy). The author holds that whether one bears a son or a daughter is settled by destiny and is not something human effort can control. If one fails to restrain lust and cultivate body and mind, and essence is exhausted, one may die young—a truly lamentable outcome. The author also notes that when desire is slight and children are born, those children tend to be noble and long-lived; when desire is heavy and many children are born, they tend to be coarse and short-lived. Terms such as “ren and gui” and “lead and mercury” are Neidan technical language for speaking of essence; “restraining it outwardly, benefiting it inwardly” means checking its outward dissipation and replenishing it through inner cultivation.

The Book of Changes says: “What is above form is called the Dao; what is below form is called the vessel (qi).” What does this mean?

Answer: What is above form has no fixed shape or material substance; what is below form has a concrete body and practical function. What lacks shape and substance pertains to xing (nature) and is called “mercury”; what has body and function pertains to ming (life-destiny) and is called “lead.” In sum, the Dao above form and the vessel below form both cannot be separated from the human body and mind.

Question: The sages take as their standard what the Book of Changes calls “wash the heart and retire, storing it in the secret.” What does “secret” refer to?

Answer: “Secret” means sincerity carried to the utmost. The teaching of the Book of Changes must be both broad in scope and exhausted in fine detail. The sage carefully observes and grasps these principles, cleanses distracting thoughts from the mind, and settles the heart in utmost sincerity.

Question: The Book of Documents says: “The human heart is unstable; the heart of the Dao is subtle; with refinement and unity, hold fast to the mean.” How is the “mean” (zhong) to be grasped and held?

Answer: “Hold” (zhi) means to maintain firmly; “mean” (zhong) means upright and without bias. The heart of the Dao is hidden and hard to discern; the human heart is restless and insecure. Even a person of supreme virtue still has a human heart; even the most foolish person still has a heart of the Dao. As long as the inner mind is constantly upright and keeps to the center, though the heart of the Dao is subtle, it can become clear; if the inner mind slips even slightly and departs from the center, the human heart becomes perilous and unsettled. Those who cultivate immortality choose one place to guard and do not shift from it, always keeping to the center—then the perilous human heart can be stabilized and the subtle heart of the Dao can be made manifest. Golden Elixir practice likewise takes the “center” as the passage gate (xuan guan—the pivotal aperture in cultivation)—the principle is the same.

Question: “The burden of Heaven is without sound and without odor”—what does this line mean?

When the radiance of sincerity (cheng) shines forth, even though there is no sound to be heard and no scent to be sensed, the Way of Heaven still cannot be hidden. What the Dao Scripture calls “vast measure, profound mystery” likewise marks the utmost reach of the true realm.

Question: What is meant by “not knowing, not being aware, yet following the emperor’s norm”?

Answer: The sage is born already knowing the principle and quietly accords with heavenly principle. That is “understanding without deliberate thought, fitting without forced effort”—having obtained the way of Wuwei (non-action) and natural spontaneity. This is what the Zhongyong (Doctrine of the Mean) calls “sincerity leading to illumination.” “Illumination leading to sincerity,” by contrast, is the method by which the sage teaches others. A person who studies the Way, if endowed with a deep native capacity, may directly awaken to original nature and naturally penetrate xing (inner nature) and ming (life and mandate)—this is “knowing by birth.” One whose capacity is shallower cannot awaken to nature directly and therefore begins by learning the teaching, moving from the conditioned to the unconditioned and from the coarse to the subtle. Such a person first clarifies ming within the pairing of nature and life, then clarifies xing—this is “knowing through learning.”

Question: Confucius said, “Eat coarse grain, drink plain water, and use your bent arm as a pillow—joy lies in that too.” Where was Confucius’s joy?

Answer: Confucius took the Way of Heaven as his joy and knew his own heavenly mandate; hence he was content with Heaven and knew his mandate, without anxiety. Even when surrounded at Kuang, he still played the lute and sang, finding delight in himself. From the Book of Changes he grasped “when deviation from the Way is not far, return and thereby cultivate the person,” “in returning, see again the heart of Heaven and Earth,” and “ exhaust principle, fully know nature, and thereby reach mandate”—all of which are subtle points of Golden Elixir practice.

Question: Yan Hui was content with a single basket of rice and a gourd of water. What was the joy in that?

Answer: Yan Hui had understood Confucius’s teaching of contentment with Heaven, knowledge of mandate, and freedom from fear; therefore he did not let his joy change with outward circumstances. He appeared slow-witted, but in fact he was practicing xinzai (“fasting of the mind”) and zuowang (“sitting in forgetfulness”)—methods of stilling the heart and forgetting externals—laying aside sensory cleverness and discursive thought so that the inner heart approached emptiness. This too belongs to the subtlety of Golden Elixir cultivation.

Question: Zengzi wore tattered clothes yet chanted in a voice that seemed to fill Heaven and Earth; the Son of Heaven could not make him serve as a minister, and feudal lords could not win him as a friend. How is this to be understood?

When Zengzi answered Confucius, he said only the word “wei” (yes, indeed). The subtle point is to stop clinging to words and sounds that reach the mouth and ears. Then one can grasp the principle that runs through everything and use it to cultivate oneself, put the household in order, govern the state, and bring peace to the world.

Zilu asked about what happens after death. Confucius replied: “You do not yet know the meaning of being alive—how could you know what happens after death?” How should we understand this?

The mystery of being alive likewise lies in not clinging to words and sounds that reach the mouth and ears. Grasp the principle that runs through everything, and you can cultivate yourself, put the household in order, govern the state, and bring peace to the world.

Life and death are like day and night—ordinary patterns of nature. Know day, and you can know night. The Yijing (Book of Changes) says: “Investigate the beginning of things and return to their end, and you will understand the meaning of life and death.” Alchemy texts (danshu) say: “Before my parents had yet begotten me, that is the root of Golden Elixir (jindan) practice.” Buddhism asks: “Before this body existed, where was xing (nature, the spiritual essence)?” Pursue these sayings, and the entry point of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism alike is to trace things back to their beginning; know the beginning, and you can know the end. Follow the stream to its source, and you can recognize its origin. If a person thoroughly investigates where he himself comes from, he will naturally understand life and death. Have you seen the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) diagram? Before Taiji had yet divided, what was it? If you can penetrate this completely, you will understand the beginning before this body appeared, and from that infer its end.

Question: Before Taiji divided, its shape was like an egg; then what lies outside the egg?

Answer: It is taixu—the vast, formless void. When a person first receives qi (vital energy) and becomes an embryo, the bodily form is not yet differentiated, and is also like an egg. Only after birth are xing and ming (nature and life) established; everything outside the body is taixu.

Question: While still in the mother’s womb, is there already xing?

Answer: The womb is impure—how could the spiritual essence remain there?

Another question: When the fetus suddenly moves in the fifth or sixth month of pregnancy, is that xing?

(The text breaks off here awaiting further answer.)

Question: “Isn’t that just one’s original nature at work?”

Answer: “It is only Qi in motion. While in the womb, a person breathes with the mother; once born, xing (nature) and ming (life-destiny) each take their place, and a small cosmos of one’s own appears. When a snake is cut in two, the front half still crawls and the tail still lives; when a crab is cooked, detached legs may still twitch. Are those movements the work of original nature? Look closely and you will see: it is Qi moving, not nature itself.”

Question: “The Analects says, ‘My Way is bound together by a single thread.’ How should we understand this?”

Answer: “The sage meant that within the human body there is a principle of Heaven (tianli) that can run through the three powers—Heaven, Earth, and humanity—and through the three teachings—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism. The rationale of all things is contained in it. Buddhism’s ‘no self, no person, no sentient being, no lifespan,’ and Daoism’s ‘once the one root is understood, all affairs become clear’—both speak of this same thread that runs through everything.”

Question: “When the World-Honored One (Shakyamuni Buddha) held up a flower before the assembly, only Mahakashyapa smiled. The World-Honored One said, ‘I have the treasury of the true Dharma eye, the wondrous mind of nirvana; I entrust it to Mahakashyapa.’ I do not understand—why did Kashyapa smile?”

Answer: “When the World-Honored One held up the flower for all to see, no one else grasped the subtlety of the Buddha-mind; only Kashyapa did, and so he smiled. The World-Honored One then entrusted to him this truth that transcends words and letters.”

Question: “Bodhidharma came from the West to China and taught: no reliance on words, direct pointing to the human mind, seeing nature and becoming Buddha. What does ‘seeing nature’ mean?”

Answer: “Bodhidharma used the wondrous principle of true emptiness to point straight at the mind. Seeing nature means no longer being dragged about by outer things in one’s thoughts, no longer clinging to things in the heart; then one naturally sees original nature. How could that be handed down through ink and speech?”

Question: “Confucianism has the Xiantian Yijing, Buddhism has the Prajnaparamita, and Daoism has the Lingbao Jing—are these not all written words?”

Answer: (The Chinese excerpt ends here without a reply; translate only what was given.)

That person said: “It is not so. The sage is originally without words, yet borrows words to make clear the Way of true constancy (the fundamental principle that never changes). Buddhism’s vast canon of scriptures, the recorded sayings of various schools, and teachings on cause and effect; Confucianism’s Nine Classics, Three Commentaries, and the learning of the hundred schools; and Daoism’s scriptures of the Dongxuan corpus and every kind of alchemical text—all are paths of entry to the Way and ladders for ascending beyond. At the highest level, not a single word is needed. What you ask me about are also merely rafts for crossing a river; to grasp meaning on a still higher plane, one must seek beyond words. If touched and suddenly enlightened, one can return to the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), reach a state of perfect clarity and awakening, emptiness penetrating and spirit communicating, nature and life both complete, form and spirit both wondrous, share one body with empty space, and stand shoulder to shoulder with immortals and buddhas—not a difficult thing.”

He was asked again: “You say the three teachings (Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism) share the same principle, which has truly benefited me greatly. Still, Buddhism’s nirvana (liberation from birth and death, the state of quiescent extinction) and Daoism’s tuotai (shedding the ordinary body, the cultivated transformation of body and mind) seem somewhat different?”

He said: “Nirvana and tuotai speak of one and the same principle. Tuotai is shedding the mortal body—is that not nirvana? What Daoism calls refining jing (essence) into qi (vital energy), refining qi into shen (spirit), refining shen and returning to emptiness, and in the end embracing the root and returning to nothingness, is the same in principle as what Buddhism calls returning to emptiness; there is no difference.”

He was asked again: “After tuotai, is there still transformation and creation?”

He said: “There is still transformation and creation. The sage said: ‘Having a body outside the body is not yet extraordinary; only when empty space is shattered does one’s true original face appear.’ Therefore after tuotai one must all the more practice with feet firmly on the ground until one shares one body with empty space; only then is the ultimate truly attained.

When one achieves success in cultivation, the sages say: “There is a body beyond the body—this is not remarkable; only when you shatter the void does the complete true nature fully appear.” Therefore, after tuotai (the transformation in which body and mind shed their old shell and are reborn in practice), one must still cultivate with feet firmly on the ground, until one merges with the void—only then is fulfillment truly complete. What Buddhism calls “true emptiness,” what Confucianism calls Wuwei (non-action), and what Daoism calls ziran (naturalness) all mean holding to the root and returning to the source, becoming one with the Great Void (Tai xu, the boundless expanse). Those who cling to surface distinctions—how could they grasp this principle that runs through everything?

Jie’an said: The master is thoroughly versed in the wondrous way of the Golden Elixir and can also integrate the subtle doctrines of the Three Teachings (Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism). When asked, he answers; his insights are deep and refined. How could one dare keep them private? Therefore the work was carved and printed so that those of like mind may study and unfold it together. A precious pearl or fine jade will naturally be valued by those who know quality.

Questions and Answers with Zhao Ding’an

The master said: Ancestral masters and lofty immortals and supreme sages of old grasped the supreme true Way and left it in the world to deliver people. Do you know this matter?

Ding’an replied: Your disciple has only just entered the Mystic Gate (the Daoist path); I am dull and ignorant. That you took me in is good fortune rare in a thousand years. As for the supreme orthodox true Way, I truly do not yet understand it. I beg the master to explain.

The master said: What is called “the supreme orthodox true Way” is a state higher than which there is none—mysterious to the utmost. It has no fixed form, yet it manifests the ten thousand phenomena; it is not artificially contrived, yet it operates of itself. This is the most profound and wondrous principle. The sages reluctantly name it “Dao.” Sages and immortals of old all awakened and passed through by way of this; none failed to cultivate and verify themselves according to it. The holy masters transmitted it from mouth to heart through the generations; the Golden Elixir essentials they handed down are precisely this supreme wondrous Way.

Ding’an asked: The supreme wondrous Way is illustrated by the “Golden Elixir”—what is the reasoning behind that?

The master said: “Jin” (gold) signifies what is firm and indestructible; “dan” (elixir) signifies completeness and perfection. Buddhism compares it to “Complete Enlightenment” (yuanjue)—awakening in its fullness; Confucianism compares it to the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate)—the root from which the myriad things arise. These are not different things in essence, but the luminous nature that human beings possess from the outset. This original true nature, through countless kalpas, is never destroyed: firm as gold, complete as an elixir. Through cultivation it grows ever clearer. Buddhism represents it with a circle and calls it “Suchness” (zhenru)—the true nature that does not change; Confucianism also uses a circle and calls it the Taiji; Daoism calls it the Golden Elixir—the perfected state sought in internal alchemy (neidan). In essence they are one; only the names differ.

The Yijing says: “The Yi embraces the Taiji, and from the Taiji arise the two modes (liangyi).” Here “Taiji” means the root of emptiness, stillness, wuwei (non-action), and spontaneity; the “two modes” are yin and yang, which may also correspond to Heaven and Earth. Human beings live between Heaven and Earth and are therefore counted among the “three powers” (sancai)—Heaven, Earth, and Humanity. The principles by which Heaven, Earth, and Humanity and the changes of the myriad things operate are all present within the single human body. The Taiji corresponds to the yuanshen (primordial spirit) within the person; the two modes correspond to body and mind. Speaking from internal alchemy, the Taiji is the root of the elixir; the two modes are true lead and true mercury. “Lead and mercury” here are neidan terms for the yuanshen and primordial qi (yuanqi) in the body—not mineral substances such as mercury, cinnabar, sulfur, or black tin, nor herbal medicines, nor seminal fluid, saliva, nasal discharge, or concrete physiological entities such as heart and kidneys or blood and qi.

When the body is settled and unmoving and jing (essence) and qi (vital energy) gather and condense, one uses “elixir” as a metaphor. The elixir spoken of here is oneself; the circle symbolizes the true nature. What is called “elixir perfected” is the manifestation of the true nature through cultivating oneself. The elixir is not fabricated by relying on external things; it is realized as authentic truth from the root that life inherently possesses—few people truly understand this.

Today, most scholars who practice Neidan (cultivation based on one’s own Jing, Qi, and Shen) have not received a genuine lineage. They look outward, follow heterodox teachings, and stray from the correct path—so many study, but few truly attain anything.

Some refine the “five metals and eight minerals” (waidan-style mineral and metal compounds); some work with “three submissions and five falsities”; some cultivate external cloud-and-mist Qi; some gather the essence of sun and moon or the light of stars. Some visualize a pill in empty space and call that the elixir; some visualize something in the Dantian and call that the elixir. Others move “golden essence” from behind the elbow, fix attention between the eyebrows, use “returning essence to nourish the brain,” or guide Qi to the navel. Beyond that there are eating foul substances, swallowing refined Qi, inhaling new breath and exhaling old, Baduanjin (Eight Pieces of Brocade), the six-syllable breath method, shaking the Jiaji, turning the “windlass,” gathering at Weilü, guarding the navel, gathering Tiangui (terms tied to reproductive essence), refining Qiushi (preparations from urine and similar substances), guiding and stretching, massage and breath regulation, silent worship of the Lord on High, pressing the tongue to the palate, circulating the “three fields,” breath-holding and moving Qi, gathering the “three fires” in the bladder, and assembling the Five Phases in the “bitter sea.” Minor methods like these number more than a thousand. Even with diligent practice and gathering, one still cannot accomplish the “great matter” spoken of in the great Dao.

The scriptures say: “The correct teaching is hard to encounter; many lose the true Dao, many enter deviant paths.” That is exactly this situation. The true secret is extremely simple and easy; what is hard is meeting it—once met, accomplishment comes easily. If one meets a true adept who points the way, there is no one who cannot succeed.

Ding’an said: This disciple was fortunate in a past life to meet the master and receive instruction—as if partaking of the dharma milk of the Golden Elixir transmission. I earnestly ask the master to grant the key points of Golden Elixir practice.

The master said: “Listen carefully now—I will explain this passage only for you. In refining the Golden Elixir, the key is to take the creative pattern of Heaven and Earth as your model: use Qiankun (Heaven and Earth) as the cauldron and vessel, sun and moon as fire and water, Yin-Yang as the pivot of transformation, and the sun-crow and moon-rabbit (standing for sun and moon) as the medicinals. Rely on the motion of the Heavenly Gang (the Big Dipper stars) and the turning of the Dipper’s handle to advance the seasons; gather the medicinals on schedule and apply the talismans according to the method. Advancing the fire and withdrawing the talismans (using firing times to stand for the advance and gathering of the practice) must align with the solar terms of the year; withdrawing lead and adding mercury (using lead and mercury as images for yin and yang essences in practice) symbolizes the waxing and waning of the month. Bring the Five Phases together and harmonize the Four Images; let the two qi of yin and yang return to the Yellow Way (the central track of the orbit); gather the three natures (the three kinds of nature or elements that meet in practice) in the Yuan Gong (the root palace of inner refinement). Thus return to the root and restore the origin, return to the root and recover destiny, until merit is complete and spirit is whole, shed the ordinary body and become an immortal—this is called the elixir perfected.”

Ding’an said: “Heaven-and-Earth creation— I’m afraid it really is hard to seize.”

The master said: “None of this lies outside the single human body—where is the difficulty? Heaven and Earth are form; fire and water are essence-qi; yin and yang are body and mind; the sun-crow and moon-rabbit are nature and feeling. Therefore form is the cauldron furnace, essence-qi is fire and water, nature and feeling are the pivot of change, body and mind are the medicinals. The sages feared that students had no rule to follow, so they used Heaven and Earth as a metaphor. The human body does not differ from Heaven-and-Earth creation. The two words ‘body’ and ‘mind’ are at once the medicine and also the fire. Hence talk of the heavenly soul and earthly soul, the Qian horse and Kun ox, yang lead and yin mercury, the Kan male and Li female, the sun crow and moon rabbit—none of it strays from body and mind.”

What is called “the Heavenly Gang turning the wheel” refers to the heart of Heaven. The alchemical texts say: “If the human heart can unite with the heart of Heaven, then one can…”

The principle by which the Tian Gang (the handle of the Seven Stars of the Northern Dipper) moves and turns is none other than the Heart of Heaven (Tianxin). Elixir scriptures say: “When the human heart aligns with the Heart of Heaven, turning Yin-Yang takes only an instant.” They also say: “Use the heart to fathom the Dao, and the Dao is the heart; use the Dao to fathom the heart, and the heart is the Dao.”

The pivot by which the Dipper handle shifts and runs is the Xuan Guan (Mysterious Pass). The Xuan Guan is an utterly hidden and subtle hinge. Nowadays some cultivators fix on concrete places in the body: some say between the eyebrows, some the navel wheel, between the two kidneys, behind the navel and before the kidneys, the bladder, or the Dantian (energy center); some say the center of the Nine Palaces in the head is the Xuan Guan; others treat the birth gate as where life emerges, or the mouth and nose as the Mysterious Female (Xuanpin, the gateway of generation). None of these is correct. Once you pin the Xuan Guan to any bodily spot, it is no longer the Xuan Guan; yet you cannot leave the self and hunt for it outside the body either.

Various elixir classics never point out exactly where the Xuan Guan is, because it cannot be captured in words or speech—it cannot be stated clearly—hence the name “Mysterious Pass.” Sages write only the single character “zhong” (center) as a hint; that “zhong” is precisely the Xuan Guan. This “zhong” is not the middle between inside and outside, not the center of the four directions above and below, and not some definite inner location.

Buddhism says: “Do not think of good, do not think of evil—at just this moment, what is your original face?” That is the “zhong” of the Chan school. Confucianism says: “Before joy, anger, sorrow, and delight have arisen, that is called zhong.” Daoism says: “Where thought has not yet arisen, that is called zhong.” These are the “zhong” spoken of by the Three Teachings. The Yijing says “still and unmoving”—that speaks of the substance of “zhong”; “responsive and penetrating”—that speaks of the function of “zhong.”

Laozi says: “Bring emptiness and stillness to the utmost, and steadfastly guard deep quiet; when the myriad things rise together, I thereby observe how they return.” The Yijing says: “The Fu hexagram reveals the mind of Heaven and Earth.” Fu is one Yang arising beneath five Yin: Yin stands for stillness, Yang for movement. When stillness reaches its limit, movement is born; the moment the myriad things begin to stir is the Xuan Guan.

You need only work at the place where mind arises and thoughts stir through the twelve double-hours of daily life, and the Xuan Guan will naturally appear. Once you grasp the Xuan Guan, medicinals, firing times, operation and withdrawal-and-addition, as well as embryonic liberation and spirit transformation—none of these stages of practice strays from this single aperture.

Gathering the medicine (cai yao) means gathering the true lead and true mercury within oneself—two symbolic terms in Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. The medicine arises at its own season; it is not tied to fixed calendar days or clock hours such as the winter solstice, the first of the month, or the zi hour. The patriarch said: “In refining the elixir you need not seek out the winter solstice; within the body there will naturally be a moment when the first yang arises.” He also said: “When lead-qi appears and gui water stirs, gather it in good time; when metal-qi has reached its peak and begins to wane, it is no longer fit to take.” On this basis, when yin and yang qi stir within the body and yang first arises, gathering may begin. After the two breaths have joined, one must know how to keep fullness and stop at the right point—not go to excess; when the peak has been reached, one should not go on refining.

Advancing fire and retreating tally (jin huo tui fu)—methods in Neidan for adjusting the “fire” and either pushing or reining in the breath—have no fixed measure ready at hand, so the changes of the four seasons and the alternation of cold and heat are used to explain shifts in fire timing; the waxing and waning of the moon in a month is used to explain the principle of increase and decrease in practice. The crux is still to hold the middle and avoid going too far: when fullness is reached, one should not continue.

There is no fixed measure by which to follow the methods of advancing fire and retreating the talisman (jin huo tui fu—the regulation of yang and yin phases in Neidan cultivation), so the ancients used the turning of the four seasons and the alternation of cold and heat to explain when to advance or retreat the fire, and they used the waxing and waning of the moon in a month to explain the essentials of choutian (adjusting yin-yang qi in practice).

For example, at the winter solstice one yang begins to arise, corresponding to the hexagram Fu; in the twelfth month two yang arise, corresponding to Lin; in the first month three yang arise, corresponding to Tai; in the second month four yang arise, corresponding to Dazhuang; in the third month five yang arise, corresponding to Guai; in the fourth month yang reaches full purity, corresponding to Qian. When yang reaches its extreme, yin begins to arise: in the fifth month one yin arises, corresponding to Gou; in the sixth month two yin arise, corresponding to Dun; in the seventh month three yin arise, corresponding to Pi; in the eighth month four yin arise, corresponding to Guan; in the ninth month five yin arise, corresponding to Bo; in the tenth month yin reaches full purity, corresponding to Kun. When yin reaches its extreme, yang begins to arise again, and so the cycle repeats. These hexagrams were used to mark the timing of advancing and retreating the fire.

Yet cultivators often cling to words and hexagram diagrams, insisting that fire must be advanced on the very day of the winter solstice and the talisman retreated at the summer solstice, with muyu (periods of quiet breathing and settling the qi) around the spring and autumn equinoxes, without grasping the real point. Seeing that students’ understanding was off, the sages compressed the year’s seasonal markers into a single month: new moon and full moon (shuo and wang) stood for winter and summer solstice, first and last quarter moons for spring and autumn equinox; two and a half days stood for a month, and thirty days for a year. Thus the year’s rhythm was folded into one month for explanation—and people then fixated on the month.

Next they compressed the month’s waxing and waning into a single day: the zi and wu hours corresponded to new and full moon, the mao and you hours to first and last quarter. Students then clung to specific clock-hours. A master who truly understood the practice in recent times said: “Even in the work of a single quarter-hour, the seasons of a whole year are already present.”

He also said: “Before our parents had yet begotten us, where were year, month, day, and hour?”

These are words the sage uses to guide beginners; at first one must not misunderstand the intent behind them. Alas, some who cling to the written word never probe the meaning within, but only fixate on phrases and symbols, wasting their effort in vain.

I tell you plainly: when Gui water within the body stirs (the yin qi or yin aspect in practice), it signifies that one yang is arising; when yang rises and yin descends, it signifies three yang. When yin and yang separate, it signifies four yang—corresponding to the second month, the first quarter moon, and the mao hour; at this point one should “bathe” (pause firing the cauldron and let the qi harmonize), then advance the fire again (resume tending the firing). When yin and yang meet and spirit and qi unite, it signifies six yang.

After yin and yang have joined and spirit and qi have blended, you must know how to hold the state of fullness; if you do not know when to stop, all prior work is lost. Hence it is said: “When metal reaches fullness, it is not to be tasted from afar.” (At the point of fullness, one must not greedily advance or act rashly.) Then one retreats the tally (reduces the firing), signifying the birth of one yin. Yin and yang gradually separate again, signifying three yin; when yin and yang return to the hidden positions, one should bathe—corresponding to the eighth month, the last quarter moon, and the you hour. Then the retreat continues until six yin. When yin reaches its extreme, yang arises again; in an instant one full circuit (one revolution of the heavenly orbit) is complete.

If you practice in this sequence, over long cultivation the qi will gradually condense and coalesce; from formlessness something formed appears, and the “sacred embryo” (the crystallized fruit of internal alchemy) is complete—this is called the elixir achieved (dancheng).

Ding’an said: “The initial practice and the method of circulating the full circuit have already been made clear by the master’s instruction. Yet I still do not fully understand the various names used along the way, and I hope my teacher will explain further.”

The master said: “The various names are all metaphors; in the end they all come down to body and mind. When you first begin to practice, gather in the hearing so the ears are quiet; hold the gaze within and do not let it scatter outward; seal the breath on the tongue; regulate the breath through the nose; keep the limbs and body still so that spirit, hun, po, and intent each keep their place—this is called ‘Five Qi Return to the Origin’ (wǔqì cháoyuán). Then make them circulate and gather to the central palace (the inner refining center in the middle of the body)—this is called ‘Gathering the Five Phases’ (cuàncù wǔxíng).

When the mind does not move recklessly, it is called ‘dragon’s cry’; when the body does not move recklessly, it is called ‘tiger’s roar’; when both body and mind are still, it is called ‘subduing the dragon and taming the tiger.’ The dragon’s cry means Qi is stabilized; the tiger’s roar means Jing is stabilized—together this is called grasping and securing the spirit root (shǒuhù línggēn, guarding the root of life). Turtle and serpent stand for Jing and Qi; dragon and tiger stand for body and mind. Making turtle and serpent one is called ‘Harmonizing the Four Symbols’ (héhé sìxiàng). Using innate nature to govern emotional thoughts is called ‘Metal and Wood Unite’ (jīn mù bìng); using Jing to command Qi is called ‘Water and Fire Interact’ (shuǐ huǒ jiāo).

Wood and Fire share one source, symbolizing their union—hence the eastern Wood ‘three’ and southern Fire ‘two’ combine into ‘five.’ Water and Metal also share one source—hence the northern Water ‘one’ and western Metal ‘four’ join together. Earth sits in the center and returns to intent; the self is also represented by ‘five,’ so wu and ji (the yin-yang symbols of Earth) still return to five. When mind, body, and intent become one, the three families meet and form the ‘infant’ (a metaphor in inner alchemy for the inner fruit of practice)—altogether this is called ‘Blending the Three and Five’ (sān wǔ hùnróng).

Refining Jing into Qi, refining Qi into Shen, refining Shen back to emptiness is called ‘Three Flowers Gather in the Cauldron’ (sānhuā jùdǐng), also called the ‘Three Passes’ (sānguān). Some practitioners today call weilü, jiaji, and yuzhen (the lower, middle, and upper passes along the spine in practice) the three passes—that is language from specific methods, not the deepest meaning.

Where thought first stirs is called ‘Mysterious Female’ (Xuánpìn, the root gate of generation and transformation); some today treat the mouth and nose as Xuánpìn—that is mistaken. Body, mind, and intent are the three essentials: innate nature in the heart is called ‘mercury in cinnabar’ (shā zhōng gǒng); Qi in the body is called ‘gold in water’ (shuǐ zhōng jīn). Metal by nature begets water and is water’s mother; yet metal is hidden within water—hence ‘the mother hides the child in the womb’ (mǔ yǐn zǐ tāi).

Not letting outer scenes enter and not letting inner scenes leak out is called ‘sealing and stabilizing’ (gùjì). Stillness and stability is called ‘nourishing the fire’ (yǎng huǒ); empty quiet and naturalness is called ‘application’ (yùnyòng); maintaining reverence and firm focus is called ‘guarding the city’ (shǒu chéng); subduing inner disturbance is called ‘field battle’ (yězhàn). True mercury is called the ‘Maiden’ (Chànǚ); true lead is called the ‘Infant’ (Yīng’ér); true intent is called the ‘Yellow Matron’ (Huángpó); innate nature and emotional thoughts are likened to husband and wife.

Clarifying the heart and settling intent so nature is still and spirit bright, gathering these elements into a mass with the three root powers in one place, is called ‘forming the embryo’ (chéng tāi). Cherishing and guarding the spirit root is called ‘warm nurturing’ (wēnyǎng). Warm nurturing is like a dragon guarding a pearl or a hen brooding an egg—guarding carefully so nothing is lost; even the slightest slip can undo all prior work.

When the yang spirit (the pure yang spirit spoken of in practice) leaves the physical form, it is called ‘shedding the shell’ (tuōtāi); returning to the root, reverting to the source of life, and recovering the original state is called ‘transcendence’ (chāotuō); breaking through the void is when cultivation is complete.”

Ding'an asked: "After the Golden Elixir is refined to completion, can it still be seen?"

The reply was: "It can."

He asked again: "Does it have physical form?"

The reply was: "It has no form."

Ding'an asked: "If it has no form, how can it be seen?"

The reply was: "'Golden Elixir' is only a provisional name—how could there truly be a physical form? What is meant by 'seeing' is not seeing with the eyes. Buddhism says: 'Within what cannot be seen, one personally sees; within that personal seeing, there is still nothing seen.' The Daojing says: 'Look at it and you do not see it; listen to it and you do not hear it.' This refers to the Dao. Not seeing does not mean there is absolutely nothing seen; not hearing does not mean there is absolutely nothing heard. The seeing and hearing spoken of here are not what the ears and eyes can perceive—they are what the heart inwardly realizes.

"For example, when a great wind rises, entering the mountains it shakes the trees; reaching the water it raises waves—can one say the wind does not exist? Yet when you observe it you cannot see it; when you reach for it you cannot grasp it—can one say it truly has physical form? The essence of the Golden Elixir is the same.

"Therefore, at the start of refining the elixir, one must let being and non-being work together and let movement and stillness depend on each other. When the work is complete, all conditions and attachments suddenly cease; the myriad phenomena are empty, movement and stillness are forgotten, and being and non-being are both released—only then is the Mysterious Pearl (a symbol of the body of the Dao) revealed and the Grand Unity (the primal source of the Dao) returns to truth. Thus one achieves the dual completion of nature and life, wondrous union of form and spirit; one moves in and out of being and non-being, roams freely at the edge of clouds, and ultimately attains the fruit of the Golden Immortal.

"Classics and alchemical texts use many different names in order to guide learners from the shallow toward the deep, gradually entering the finer realm. Once one sees nature and understands emptiness, the true meaning is no longer on the written page. This is like a boat for crossing a river: the boat carries people across; after reaching the far shore, the boat is no longer needed. The ancients said: 'Having caught the rabbit, forget the snare; having caught the fish, forget the fish trap.' That is exactly this principle.

"Now I speak these words to you, but you must not cling to the language. You should carefully savor the meaning within and probe the root deeply. If through a single phrase the mind opens and you directly enter the realm of Wuwei (non-action), it is not difficult. As for the key at a still higher level, it cannot lightly be explained in words—you should grasp it beyond language."

When I read books of the alchemical classics, I find that later commentators each pick and choose: some fixate on the physical body, others cling to the literal words; some take “quiet clarity” to mean austere emptiness, some treat mercury and lead (common terms in the Way of the Elixir) as ordinary substances. Views differ in every direction—how could later readers not be confused? In truth the supreme Dao is one; how could there be two? Recently compiled books on the Elixir often drift from the correct path—for example explaining “seven returns and nine reversions” as reckoning from the earthly branches Yin and Zi through to Kun and Shen, as if it were a matter of hours or compass directions. Is that not mistaken? I now select the essential points from alchemical writings and arrange them as thirty-six questions and answers, to dispel later readers’ doubts. I hope those who truly understand will ponder them carefully.

Someone asked: “What is meant by ‘nine reversions’?”

The answer: “Nine” is the completion number of Metal; “reversion” means returning to the original root—that is, using nature (xing) to govern emotion (qing). Emotion belongs to Metal; when emotion returns to nature, it is called “nine reversions.” The alchemical books say: “When Metal comes home to nature at the beginning, only then can it be called reverted Elixir (huandan).” That is the meaning. To explain nine reversions as counting from Zi through to Shen is wrong.

Someone asked: “What is meant by ‘seven returns’?”

The answer: “Seven” is the completion number of Fire; “return” means turning back to the root—that is, refining spirit (shen) until it returns to emptiness. Spirit belongs to Fire; refining spirit and returning to the void is called “seven returns.” To explain seven returns as counting from Yin through to Shen is wrong. Awakening to Reality (Wuzhen pian) says: “Do not count Yin and Zi up to Kun and Shen; take the Five Phases alone as your standard.” That is exactly this meaning.

Someone asked: “What are the three passes (sanguan)?”

Someone asked: What are the Three Passes (Sanguan)?

Answer: The Three Passes are where the Three Origins (Sanyuan) circulate in practice. “Refining essence into qi” is the first pass, “refining qi into spirit” is the middle pass, and “refining spirit and returning to emptiness” is the upper pass. Some call Weilü, Jiaji, and Yuzhen the Three Passes; that refers only to concrete practice methods, not the most essential point. The secret of completing the elixir lies in the Three Passes, yet they have no fixed location and must be transmitted through oral instruction.

Someone asked: What is the Mysterious Gate (Xuanguan)?

Answer: The Mysterious Gate is an extremely subtle pivot; originally it has no fixed place. Nowadays some identify it with the navel wheel, the crown, Yintang (between the eyebrows), the space between the two kidneys, or in front of the kidneys and behind the navel—such views are side-path talk. Alchemical texts say: “This aperture of the Mysterious Gate is not in any direction above, below, east, west, north, or south; not inside or outside, not off-center, not dead center; it stands where the four great elements and the Five Phases cannot be pinned down.”

Someone asked: What are the Three Palaces (Sangong)?

Answer: The Three Palaces are where the Three Origins reside: spirit dwells in the Qian palace, qi in the middle palace, essence in the Kun palace. Some today call the three fields (upper, middle, and lower Dantian) the Three Palaces; that is incorrect.

Someone asked: What are the Three Essentials (Sanyao)?

Answer: The aperture of returning to the root, the pass of restoring life, and the valley of emptiness are called the Three Essentials. Some call the mouth and nose the Three Essentials; that is incorrect.

Someone asked: What are the Mysterious Female (Xuanpin)?

Answer: “The valley spirit does not die”—that refers to the Mysterious Female. Some call the mouth and nose the Mysterious Female; that is incorrect. Master Ziyang said: “Where thought first arises—that is the Mysterious Female.” That is correct. I hold that where thought arises is precisely the root of birth and death; how could it not be the Mysterious Female? Still, this too is a method at the level of concrete practice; at the highest level, one still relies on oral instruction.

Someone asked: What is the true seed?

Someone asked: Before heaven and earth had separated, what was there?

The reply: At that time there was a single point of numinous clarity (the innate spiritual nature). Some say that humans arise from one qi, so qi is the root of life; some say that humans exist because of thoughts, so thought is the root of life; others say that humans receive the refined qi of yin-yang and the Five Phases and are born, so jing (essence) is the root of life. These three views seem reasonable, but none is correct. Buddhism says: “Since beginningless kalpas, the root of birth and death in samsara—foolish people call it originally real.” That is exactly this situation.

Someone asked: What is the cauldron and furnace?

The reply: Body and mind are the cauldron and furnace. The alchemical texts say: “First take heaven and earth (qian and kun) as the vessel, then gather the medicine of the black and white (the sun and moon, symbols of yin and yang) to cook it.” Qian stands for the mind; kun stands for the body. Nowadays some people set up a furnace and cauldron outside the body—that is wrong.

Someone asked: What is the medicine?

The reply: True lead and true mercury are the medicine—they refer to two things that are originally complete in oneself.

Someone asked: What is inner medicine and what is outer medicine?

The reply: Refining jing, refining qi, and refining shen (spirit) are fundamentally one; in application they divide into inner and outer. The essence of male-female union, the qi of breathing, and the shen of thinking and pondering—all belong to outer medicine. Innate utmost jing, empty-and-immaterial qi, and undamaged original shen belong to inner medicine. What the alchemical texts call “inner and outer twofold operation” means exactly this.

Someone asked: What does “knock bamboo to call the turtle to swallow the jade fungus” mean?

The reply: “Knock bamboo” is regulating the breath and nourishing qi; “call the turtle” is gathering and holding jing (essence). Through refining jing into qi, using qi to gather jing, jing and qi merge and congeal into “jade fungus” (the refined essence formed in internal alchemy), which is then adopted and taken inward to preserve life.

Someone asked: What does “play the zither to summon the phoenix to drink the knife-spoon” mean?

The reply: “Play the zither” is making the heart-mind empty and still; “summon the phoenix” is nourishing original shen. With an empty heart one nourishes shen, so that the mind is clear and shen is transformed; the two “earths” (symbols of heart and intent and related cultivation elements) congeal into “knife-spoon” (a symbol of the elixir pill), which is then adopted and taken so that one’s nature is complete and luminous.

Someone asked: What is the five qi returning to the origin?

When the body does not move recklessly, jing and qi can be held firm—this is called water qi returning to the origin (benyuan). When thoughts do not stir recklessly, qi can be held firm—this is called fire qi returning to the origin. When nature and mind are clear and still, the hun can be safely stored—this is called wood qi returning to the origin. When emotional thoughts are forgotten, the po can be subdued and settled—this is called metal qi returning to the origin. When the four greats of the body (the four elements that make up the person—earth, water, fire, and wind) are settled and in harmony, intention can be settled—this is called earth qi returning to the origin. Together these are called “five qi returning to the origin” (wuqi chaoyuan)—the cultivation state in which the qi of the five phases return to their root.

Someone asked: “What is huangpo (the Yellow Old Woman)?”

The answer: “Huang” (yellow) is the color of the central direction; “po” is a term for mother. All things are born from earth; earth is the mother of the ten thousand things, so it is called huangpo.