《云笈七签》Vol. 34
About this page. The original text of 《云笈七签》 Vol. 34 (Zangwai Daoshu 藏外道書, 47 volumes) is shown in Classical Chinese as transmitted in the Godners/DaoZang edition. An English interpretation of the 60 passages on this page accompanies it: select a passage or press “Interpretation” to show it. All texts in English
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Source textInterpretation
There are many such cases of transformation through cultivation and advancement; here, only two people are given as examples.
People of the highest sage-like virtue receive documents from the Three Officials (the divine system overseeing Heaven, Earth, and Water) after death and become rulers of the underworld. After a thousand years, they are appointed to positions under the Five Emperors who serve the Three Officials. Some become enlightened lords of the four directions—east, west, south, and north—responsible for governing ghosts and spirits. After a further fourteen hundred years, they may travel through the Great Clarity (Taiqing, a high celestial realm in Daoism) and become immortals in the Nine Palaces.
Those with exceptional talent and a reputation far beyond that of ordinary people, who also cultivate a noble, upright spirit and do not pursue wealth or status, receive documents from the Three Officials after death and become benevolent, upright spirits. After four hundred years, they may become rulers of the underworld. Thereafter, they advance gradually, rising one rank every three hundred years.
Those of extreme integrity and steadfast character receive documents after death and become incorruptible spirits serving under the Three Officials. After two hundred and eighty years, they may become rulers of the underworld. Thereafter, they advance gradually into the ranks of immortal officials, rising one rank every two hundred and eighty years.
Ancestors may have accumulated merit with the Three Officials, with its blessings extending to their descendants. Their descendants may also undergo transformations over many lifetimes, changing surnames and being reborn anew. This is hidden virtue—good deeds unknown to others—accumulated over seven generations and linked together like roots and branches. After death, such a person should leave behind one foot bone and return it to the Three Officials; the rest of the bones are transformed and carried away with the body. Men leave the bone from the left foot, women the right. They then receive documents and become rulers of the underworld. After a further two hundred and eighty years, they may attain the Way of the terrestrial immortals. If, at the moment of death, the body still looks alive, remains supple, the toes have not turned blue, and the skin on the hands is not wrinkled, this is called having practiced virtue while alive and being naturally capable of corpse liberation: the body does not decay in the usual way, symbolizing the practitioner’s release from the physical form and departure.
These five cases all attain the immortal Way through long-accumulated good deeds, rather than through study and cultivation. Yet advancement requires passing through many ranks, and reaching the Great Way takes many years. What matters most is ultimately to transcend the ordinary state, have one’s name entered in the registers of Fangzhu (a divine realm in the Daoist immortal world), and no longer be subject to the Three Officials’ commands.
Those with outstanding abilities and renown throughout the world once overthrew tyrants, quelled disorder, expanded their territories, took imperial titles, and ruled the realm. After their deaths, some were appointed among the Three Officials and Four Assistants, divine offices serving the Officials of Heaven, Earth, and Water; some became senior ministers assisting the Five Emperors, the deities of the five directions; and some became honored companions of the Four Luminaries, helping govern the myriad ghosts and oversee life and death.
From then on, these people belonged to the Three Officials and had no hope of ascending to immortality. This was because they had accumulated much evil karma through warfare and killing, causing especially great loss of life. Qin Shi Huang is now a senior minister of the Northern Emperor, while Liu Ji (Emperor Gaozu of Han, Liu Bang) is now an honored companion of the Southern Luminary. There are many such people; only a few examples are given here. Duke Huan of Qi is now the Director of Prohibitions of the Three Officials, responsible for registering the rolls of life and death; Duke Wen of Jin is now the Commissioner of Destiny for the Water Official. King Zhuang of Chu, Jianzi of Zhao, and several hundred others still remain in the offices of the Three Officials, not yet having received appointments. Their ranks all belong to the subordinate offices of the Three Officials and have nothing to do with the affairs of true immortals.
Master Ning
The Records of the Ten True Ones says: Master Ning was an ancient immortal who lived before the Yellow Emperor and often traveled beyond the Four Seas. Below Mount Kunqiu lay a place called Orchid Sands, ten thousand li from the Central Capital. There, the sand sank beneath one’s steps, its depth impossible to gauge; only those who had attained the Dao could cross it. The sand was as fine as dust. When the wind lifted it, it spread like mist and drifted gently.
A plant called stone indigo grew there. Its blossoms were light yet resilient, with a thousand flowers on each stem, and it bloomed only once every thousand years. The flowers swayed in the wind, their colors bright and pleasing to behold, so they were called azure indigo flowers. Fish, turtles, dragons, and snakes also moved through the dusty mist as if flying. Because Master Ning loved to admire the azure indigo flowers, he often went to that place. Later, he ate a flying fish and died. He lay in the sand for more than a hundred years, then suddenly…
After cultivating, his appearance returned to what it had been. He then composed the “Poem of Roaming the Sea”:
“Brilliant blue and green, blooming year after year for a thousand years;
though people who live a hundred years die young,
they can still eat flying fish and come back to life.”
Ling Shouguang
The tenth volume of the Traditions of the Divine Immortals records that Ling Shouguang was from Fufeng. When he was over seventy, he obtained the recipe for the Weiying Pill. After refining and taking it, his appearance became like that of someone around twenty. In the first year of the Jian’an era, he was already 220 years old. Later, he died in the home of Hu Wang in Jiangling. More than a hundred days after he was buried, someone saw him appear in Xiaohuang. He sent a letter to Hu Wang through an intermediary. After receiving it, Hu Wang opened the grave to look inside. The coffin was empty, and its nails had not come loose; only Ling Shouguang’s original shoes remained.
Zhao Chengzi
Lady of Mount Heng said, “I once had a disciple who was admitted to my inner chamber, an immortal named Zhao Chengzi. When he first began his studies, he received my Upper Scripture on Preserving Life and the Five Viscera and practiced according to its teachings. Later, Chengzi wished to return to the Great Yin—the realm of the dead—and asked to change his appearance and transform his body. So he deliberately feigned death beneath a stone chamber on Dark Mound in Shanggu, Youzhou.
Five or six years after he died, someone traveling in the mountains found white bones in the stone chamber, the remains exposed in its dim interior. He also saw that the five viscera inside the corpse’s abdomen were still as they had been, without decaying. From them sprang five-colored radiance, shimmering brightly within the body. The traveler exclaimed, ‘I once heard that the five viscera could be cultivated until they became imperishable, and that flowers could grow from white bones. At last, today I have seen it with my own eyes. Did this person begin cultivating the Dao and then fail to continue, or did he practice only halfway and prove unable to endure the trials?’
He reached out and cut open the corpse. Inside each of the five viscera he found a white stone, each emitting five-colored radiance and shaped like a flower. The traveler said, ‘Your five viscera must have remained imperishable because these five stones can produce radiance. Since you have already lost your Dao attainment, these things can be mine.’ He took out the stones, swallowed them, and left.
Another four or five years passed. Zhao Chengzi’s body was about to revive. The traveler had already swallowed the stones; on the very day Chengzi was to revive, all five stones flew out of his mouth…”
As he emerged, his body took on the form of a cicada, with a faint rumble of thunder following him. Five-colored light shone brilliantly all around him, and then he went straight back to where his corpse had been laid. Thus, after Chengzi changed his appearance and rose, it seemed as though he had merely slept off a night of drunkenness. The man was terrified. His illness grew worse day by day, and at last he went into the mountains to search for the place where the corpse had been. When he reached the stone chamber, he saw Chengzi leaning against the cave wall and giving a long whistle, his face glowing with a jade-like luster. The man asked, “Who are you?” Suddenly, five aged immortal lords—exalted deities of the immortal realm—appeared. Clad in brocade robes and wearing Fulu, they held feathered staffs, the ceremonial emblems of immortals, and wore purple crowns. They said to Chengzi, “This is the man who once stole and ate the precious stones from your five organs, Master.” As soon as they had finished speaking, malignant sores appeared on the man’s face, and he lost the power of speech. By the time he returned home, the sores had spread over his whole body. Every member of his family, young and old alike, died at the same time, and the entire lineage was extinguished.
Xu Yufu
The Zhengao (Declarations of the Perfected), a scripture of the Shangqing school of Daoism, records: “Xu Changshi’s third son was named Sui, with the courtesy name Daoxiang and the childhood name Yufu. Even as a child, he had an outstanding bearing and upright character. Refined and pure, he was untroubled by worldly concerns. He lived at the foot of Mount Leiping, devoted himself diligently to cultivation, and often longed to enter a grotto-heaven and become an immortal as soon as possible, unwilling to remain long in the human world. He therefore set out for the Northern Grotto. In the fifth year of Taihe under the Liang, he died at his old residence on Maoshan, aged thirty. Later, he dwelt at the Fangyuan Lodge in a cave on Mount Fangyu, often traveling to and from Sifang Terrace. In the end, he became an immortal lord of the Shangqing school.”
Zhang Lu
The Zhengao says: “Zhang Zhennan burned incense and bowed in worship on the stone altar north of the Northern Grotto. Then he prostrated himself and did not rise; that night, he died. When people went to look the next morning, his body still appeared alive. The stone altar remains to this day, and its traces can still be clearly seen.”
Xu Daoyu (Female Immortal)
Xu Daoyu, daughter of Xu Huangmin, died at Daishan in 454, the Jiawu year of the Xiaojian era under the Liu Song dynasty. People called her “Lady Xu.” Her body lay on a rock and, though it decayed without being placed in a coffin, continued to give off a fragrance. This account also appears in volume two of the Biographies of Daoist Studies.
Fan Chai
Fan Chai, courtesy name Zigong, was from Langzhong in Baxi Commandery. During the Yuanjia era of the Liu Song dynasty, he possessed several dozen hu of precious incense. He ground it finely and boiled it into a fragrant bath. One morning, he bathed in it. By noon, the bath had been used up, and no one could hear him anymore. His attendants went in to check and found Fan Chai still sitting there in his usual cloth clothes and hat, without a breath.
The Prince of Jiangxia ordered that he be prepared for burial, but the coffin was left uncovered. Four days later, his body had still not begun to smell, so it was taken back to his home and buried at Xinting. Fan Chai was forty-nine when he died, and his skin and appearance still looked as they had in life. Liu Ningzhi wrote a biography of him and placed it in the Daoist writings collection, where it was not circulated.
Qiao Shun
Qiao Shun, courtesy name Zhongchan, was from Maoling in Fufeng Commandery. As a young man, he loved the teachings of Huang-Lao and withdrew to the mountains to cultivate the Dao. Even at seventy, he refused to marry, renounced relations between men and women, and kept his heart untouched by desire. One day, he returned home and said on what date he would die. He did indeed die on that day. People believed he could foresee the Mandate of Heaven and buried him.
Later, someone saw Qiao Shun in Dunhuang. The report passed down through the generations, and people all believed he had ascended to immortality. Thus, the Records of Instructions states: “Zhongchan understood the methods of the Dao, withdrew from the world and transformed, becoming an immortal. He did not marry at seventy and spent his life in the depths of the mountains.”
Essentials of the Many Scriptures of the Supreme Clarity
This work was written by Zhai Wei, a native of Nanyang who lived as a hermit on Mount Wudang.
At first, Baopuzi studied under his paternal granduncle, Ge Xuan. He had exceptional powers of understanding and broad learning, and could grasp the principles governing the human body and mind. He was therefore regarded as outstanding in talent and insight. Those around him who were open-minded and devoted to learning were also willing to follow him. Later, he settled apart from others in the mountains of Zheyang.
Before long, he worried that his disciples and other students might be confused by techniques of divination. So he went again to Yidu to seek Ge Xuan’s advice. “The sun’s shadow can be used to measure the time, and a person’s appearance can be used to predict good or ill fortune. Wu Xian’s Star Classic is said never to have erred in its calculations of celestial phenomena, and Ji Xian’s spirit divination is said never to have failed in reading people’s faces. Yet the Liezi records that when Liezi asked Ji Xian to divine for him three times, Ji Xian judged his methods shallow. And when floods surged to the sky and submerged the mountains, the divination books of Wu Xian gave no recorded prediction that came true. Is this because sages and the Dao of Heaven cannot be fathomed, or because the claims of Wu Xian and Ji Xian are false and run counter to the principles of divination? The Dao of Heaven and the sages are indeed lofty and difficult to fathom.
“Nowadays people often ask Hong (Ge Hong) to predict good or ill fortune. When they first come to study, they all bow their heads respectfully, their expressions calm and solemn, their attention unwavering, as though their resolve could not be strengthened further. But after only a year or two of studying the Dao, before their learning has gone very deep, slander has already begun, and those who urge them to give up gradually gather around. They live in seclusion in a small place, in groups of no more than two or three, with different faces that cannot all be examined one by one. How much harder, then, would it be to discern someone like you, who has left the world behind to pursue fame and gain, competed for honor and splendor, secretly used cunning methods, gathered many followers, and practiced several kinds of arts to win over rulers? This is what puzzles Hong. Given how real my confusion is, surely even a sage would feel concern over it?”
Xuan, the speaker in this text, says: Wu Xian could calibrate subtle and mysterious measures, while Ji Xian could discern the signs of changes in blood and Qi. Their abilities came from meticulous calculation. This, too, is one path cultivated by the sages and should not be dismissed or treated with deception.
A person’s spirit arises as Qi is transformed through vaporization. Without Qi, the human form could not appear. Qi condenses into form, which also requires human nature to make a complete body. As the body gradually grows, its varied dispositions deepen as well; with advancing years, turbid desires become increasingly strong.
For this reason, the sages passed down methods for cultivating the Dao, making the purification of spirit through stillness and clarity their aim, along with dispelling disturbance and returning to an undivided whole. In this way, one can contain subtle, harmonious Qi and perceive things without obstruction. Yet people differ in how far they progress through clear and still cultivation, and in how deeply they dispel disturbance.
Therefore, people’s spirit and awareness differ in scope, depth, and reach, and so does their capacity for understanding. Lingyang could inhale the rosy clouds at sunrise, yet could not ride the wind and waves to command Fengyi, the legendary water god. That is precisely the reason.
Even someone who has studied divination and calculation in great depth may not attain clarity of mind. Clarity of mind, in turn, may not bring the breath to a transcendent state; and a transcendent breath may not lead into the true realm of emptiness and stillness. To blame the Wu clan for not understanding the causes of the great flood, or Ji Zhan for not knowing the source of wondrous forms, and then to say that the sages acted in confusion, is to misunderstand the principles of things.
Heaven and Earth take shape through primordial Qi, the original energy from which all things arise. Sages, in turn, nurture the true realm by cultivating their nature. Primordial Qi exists in an undivided, chaotic state that preceded the separation of Heaven and Earth. Only after that separation did forms appear; only after forms appeared did shadows cast by the sun and measures arise, and these belong to the realm that can be observed and quantified. The great flood arose from the movement of chaotic primordial Qi, so it cannot be inferred from visible calculations alone. The cultivation of a person’s nature and life likewise has an underlying source that holds hidden mysteries, beyond the realm in which things grow and take visible form. Only once things have grown do they have shape and color, and then come blood, Qi, and bodily functions; these all belong to the realm that can be observed and inferred. Wondrous forms arise from the movement of the mysterious source, so they cannot be understood through observation and conjecture alone.
Thus, those who have attained the Dao do not expect everyone to see through every matter. They know that people’s spirit and awareness differ in scope, and that study and cultivation proceed through different levels.
In the past, I studied under Master Tao. I also studied alongside Wang Xiuchang, the crown prince of Handan; Gan Yuanshu of Yanlü; Zhang Boying of Hongnong; Feng Junda, the Master of the Green Ox; Bu Wenxian of Henan; and Cheng Zhongshi of Chenliu. We all received the Jing of the Five Qis and the Subtle Mystery. These men reached the mysterious realm through their learning, but my natural abilities were dull and my understanding shallow, so I failed to grasp its essential meaning. Still, I can recount the general sense as I remember it.
When people receive life, their endowments may be true or false, and their awareness may differ in scope. These qualities all arise through the circulation of the Five Phases. Thus, those who attain the Dao are invariably versed in the study of the Five Phases, using it to investigate the source of awareness. Teachers and those who guide others understand the roots of the Five Phases, using this knowledge to spread the true and mysterious Dao. Rulers understand the nature of the Five Phases, using it to reveal the harmony between Heaven and Earth. The workings of the Five Phases are truly significant!
The Five Phases are the five kinds of Qi that move constantly within Yin-Yang. People live between Heaven and Earth, and both the body and the Qi of the five viscera embody the Five Phases and the endowments of the four seasons as they are present in the human being. Heaven expresses five constant ways through the Five Phases; in people, the Five Phases correspond to the five viscera.
In Heaven, Wood governs benevolence. Its gentleness appears as spring, which presides over the constant way of continual renewal. Gentle essence gathers above as the Year Star (Jupiter), illuminating and bringing forth signs of sincerity and steadfastness. In people, Wood corresponds to the liver. The awareness governed by the liver is compassion; the liver is the organ that houses the Qi of gentleness, respect, and joy. The liver’s essence rises and manifests in the mouth, governing opening, closing, and release. This is like Heaven’s virtue of spring, which gives rise to a disposition of unfolding, breathing in and out, budding, and clear order.
In Heaven, Fire governs ritual propriety. Its heat appears as summer, which presides over the constant way of luxuriant growth and flourishing. Bright spiritual Qi shines high above as the Sun, revealing the Way of illumination. Hot essence gathers above as the Flickering Deluder (Mars), symbolizing surveillance and prohibition. In people, Fire corresponds to the heart. The awareness governed by the heart is discernment; the heart is the organ of penetrating insight. The heart’s essence rises and manifests in the eyes, governing clear sight. This is like Heaven’s summer, which gives rise to a disposition of brightness, vitality, growth, and maturity.
Heaven’s treasury of trust is Earth. Its substantial Qi transforms into the land. It governs the final month of summer, oversees the four directions, and carries out the constant Way of nurturing all things, bestowing peace, and providing sustenance. Its substantial essence rises and becomes the Zhen Star (Saturn), displaying celestial signs of fairness and stability. In the human body, Earth corresponds to the spleen, an organ that presides over fairness. The spleen’s essence rises upward and appears in the tongue, which distinguishes flavors and judges what is suitable. This symbolizes Earth’s De in Heaven: it steadies all things and provides for them. Its substantial essence rises to become the Zhen Star, displaying celestial signs of fairness and stability. Earth’s De also gives people the inclination to weigh things and judge whether they are appropriate.
Heaven’s treasury of righteousness is Metal. Its cool Qi transforms into autumn, which governs the constant Way of wielding authority to judge and regulate all things. Its cool essence gathers above and becomes the Tai Bai Star (Venus), displaying celestial signs of decisive judgment and stern restraint. In the human body, Metal corresponds to the lungs, organs that govern vigor and authority. The lungs’ essence rises upward and appears in the nose, which distinguishes scents. This symbolizes autumn’s De in Heaven, giving people the inclination to exercise authority and clear discernment, and to impose order through judgment.
Heaven’s treasury of wisdom is Water. Its cold Qi transforms into winter, which governs the constant Way of guarding, replenishing, clarifying, and solemnly regulating. The numinous spirit of righteousness—which here refers to Heaven’s luminous, vital Qi—shines down from above and transforms into the moon, proclaiming a profound and mysterious Way. Cold essence gathers above and becomes the Chen Star (Mercury), displaying celestial signs of careful adherence to rules and prohibitions. In the human body, Water corresponds to the kidneys, which govern reception and are connected with life activities such as the stillness and alarm of birds and beasts. The kidneys’ essence rises upward and appears in the ears, which hear, distinguish sounds, and perceive. This symbolizes the De of winter in Heaven and the moon’s influence, giving people the inclination to be humble, receptive, and accepting.
The human body’s five viscera—the heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys—undergo changes of warmth, coolness, cold, and heat, just as the heavens have four seasons. The human ears and eyes are like the sun and moon in the sky. The human spirit is like the Celestial Emperor, here referring to the ruler who governs the heavenly realm. The spirit dwells within the heart and spleen, between the lungs and liver, just as the Celestial Emperor dwells within the protection of the four quarters.
The spirit uses the gallbladder as its throne, as the Celestial Emperor dwells in the Purple Tenuity Palace; it uses the heart as its inner court, as the Celestial Emperor holds court in the Grand Tenuity Palace; it uses the spleen as its inner chamber, as the Celestial Emperor’s private residence is in Xuanyuan. The liver serves as the Pool of Salt, the lungs as the Celestial River, and the kidneys as the Gatekeepers; these, too, are like the Celestial Emperor’s guards in the four quarters. The Purple Tenuity Palace governs planning and calculation, and gives precedence to the left. Accordingly, the spirit relies on the gallbladder and guards the liver. For this reason, a person should make gentleness, respect, compassion, and joy their first principles in dealing with the world.
The spirit rides on Qi (vital energy) and moves, expressing five kinds of perception through action. This is like the Celestial Emperor relying on the laws governing the movement of the celestial bodies to make their courses extend throughout the heavens.
When Qi in the human body is clear and bright, it appears as composure. When Qi is stirred and becomes turbid, it produces a coarse, heavy sound. When that sound stretches and reverberates, it becomes a tone. When a coarse sound is released, it becomes a shout; when a tone is calm and orderly, it becomes speech. A shout raised by anger becomes scolding. Speech deepens into conversation, conversation into exposition, exposition into debate, debate into insult, insult into abuse, abuse into slander, and slander into defamation.
When the breath is harmonious and moves straight forward, and the spirit firmly drives it, this forms “resolve.” When the breath follows a set principle and the spirit holds to it, this forms “nature.” When the breath meets the moment and moves toward its aim, and the spirit responds to it, this forms “feeling.” When the breath is hidden yet ordered, and the spirit sets it in motion, this forms “intention.” When the breath accords with what is within and responds to circumstances, and the spirit makes it clear, this forms “reflection.” When the breath gathers around an event and the spirit becomes bound to it, this forms “worry.” When the breath is stirred by something beautiful that happens to appear, and the spirit moves with it, this forms “courage.” When the breath surges and rushes onward, and the spirit esteems it, this forms “aspiration.” When the breath descends and gathers with benevolence, and the spirit concentrates on it, this forms “thought.”
When thought deepens, it becomes solicitude; when solicitude deepens, it becomes compassion; when compassion deepens, it becomes loving-kindness; when loving-kindness deepens, it becomes sorrow; when sorrow deepens, it becomes weeping; when weeping deepens, it becomes wailing. All these emotions are stirred by the Qi of the liver.
The liver is the first passage through which the spirit moves. Thus, when an infant is born and laid on the ground, its first cry comes from the stirring of liver Qi. Before it recognizes those around it, it may smile to itself in calm whether awake or asleep; this is liver Qi in motion. Before anything outside has stirred it, its hands and feet may fidget and move on their own; this is liver Qi in agitation. An infant is easily frightened, yet has no power to defend itself against threats. Its nature is simple and single-minded, without complicated or stubborn desires. This is because the spirit has not yet fully set in motion and brought under its control the Qi of the lungs, spleen, heart, and kidneys.
The hun and po are the foundation of the spirit. The left occiput is where the hun’s power resides. The nature’s simplicity and single-mindedness, without complicated or stubborn desires, likewise arise because the spirit has not yet fully set in motion the Qi of the lungs, spleen, heart, and kidneys.
The Hun and Po are the leading aspects of the spirit: the left side is associated with the Hun, through which the spirit manifests, while the right side is associated with the Po. The liver stores the Hun; when the Hun is disturbed, a person feels alarmed. The lungs store the Po; when the Po is disturbed, a person feels fear. A shock to the Hun manifests as startlement; a shock to the Po manifests as terror.
Infants are often easily frightened and startled because their spirit is still attached to the liver. As they grow up, some become timid and others brave: when courage is weak, a person is timid; when courage is full, a person is brave. When the Gallbladder is attached to the liver, a person tends to be timid; when it is attached to the lungs, a person tends to be brave. In those who are strong and resolute, courage is attached to the lungs; in those who are gentle and mild, it is attached to the liver.
If timid people practice resisting and standing their ground over a long period, they may gradually become brave, because their courage is growing stronger. After drinking, timid people may become emotionally agitated and behave erratically, then suddenly rally and appear bold; this happens because their courage has surged and become full. When drunken people shift unpredictably between joy and anger, alternating between weeping in sorrow and shouting, and behave out of character, this results from the Qi of the Five Viscera rising and falling in disorder.
The spirit in the liver governs Qi. When the Qi is clear and harmonious, a person is gentle, respectful, kind, and benevolent, with far-reaching thoughts; their conduct is respectful and composed, and their gaze is steady and peaceful. When the Qi surges, it gives rise to joy and delight, and to pleasure in response to things. When the Qi is agitated, a person may play and laugh to excess. When the Qi is stirred, they may wail and weep in extreme grief. Thus, joy at its height may turn to sorrow, and sorrow at its height may turn to joy. Worry, fear, alarm, and shame may arise as well. These are all responses produced when events stir the Qi of the liver, setting it into cycles of agitation.
The spirit in the spleen governs Qi. When the Qi is clear and harmonious, a person is fair-minded and open, with a calm and far-reaching disposition, and may feel moved to compose verse and express their feelings. Their expression is peaceful and relaxed, and their gaze is even and bright. When the Qi surges, a person tends to be rash and lax, and to think matters through poorly. When the Qi is agitated, they may become indulgent and negligent, arrogant and unrestrained, boastful and untruthful, or careless and forgetful. When the Qi is stirred, they may become self-important and restless, giving rise to resentment, ill will, anger, and opposition—inappropriate expressions of feeling.
The spirit governs the Qi of the heart. When Qi is clear, a person sees and understands things readily and keenly observes what is happening around them. This appears as quick judgment and decisive action. When Qi is restless, a person is prone to empty show and self-importance, careless speech, and a taste for argument; they readily pass judgment on right and wrong and disparage others. When Qi is agitated, a person may become absorbed in romantic attachment, covet beauty and luxury, boast of themselves, and strive to outdo others. Such people look at others with arrogance and contempt. They often slight people based on their appearance, seeming aloof and conceited, as though no one could get along with them. Their conduct loses restraint, and when their Qi is stirred, they become rash, impatient, and fierce.
The spirit governs the Qi of the lungs. When Qi is clear, a person’s bearing appears dignified and grave, so that others dare not treat them lightly. When Qi is restless, their manner becomes frivolous and undignified; their behavior swings between extremes and loses all sense of proportion, while their expression is changeable. When Qi is agitated, they are prone to humiliate others and show no regard for them. When their Qi is stirred, they may erupt in anger and act recklessly out of a show of courage, bringing harm through alarm and urgency.
The spirit governs the Qi of the kidneys. When Qi is clear, a person is modest, thrifty, restrained, and cautious. When Qi is restless, improper desires may arise; they may also conceal their mistakes and fall into regret and distress. When Qi is agitated, they become greedy and miserly, with powerful desires, accumulating wealth without knowing when to stop. When their Qi is stirred, they may entertain thoughts of recklessly breaking taboos, of treachery and wickedness, or even of plotting rebellion, with vicious consequences.
A person’s life Qi is bound to become agitated at times. This is the usual state when Qi has accumulated in excess and remained so for a long time. In stillness, clear Qi arises; in activity, restless Qi increases; when emotions erupt, agitated Qi grows stronger; when a person is stirred, Qi surges rapidly. Qi circulates and is expended: agitation brings fatigue, and fatigue produces illness. As illness accumulates, a person becomes more easily affected by external things. Once stirred, Qi surges; if the surge becomes excessive, Qi is depleted. When Qi is depleted, the body weakens; when it weakens, the spirit becomes scattered. When the spirit is scattered to the utmost, it is extinguished, and the body then decays. If, while Qi is depleted, a person also indulges in excessive arrogance and a violent pernicious wind invades, they may suddenly collapse and die. When Qi has declined to the utmost and the life Qi is spent, a person dies from the decay of old age. This is the process by which people approach death.
When gentleness, respect, compassion, and joy become corrupted, they turn into flattery. Compliance becomes eager ingratiation, and respect becomes a desire to please others. Their bows may seem careful, yet their expressions are unsettled; as they bend, they appear ingratiating and servile, and their faces often betray unease.
When fairness becomes corrupted, it turns into overbearing self-confidence without restraint: pride, indulgence, and stubbornness. They delight in exposing other people’s faults, taking this as proof of their own fairness.
When dignity becomes corrupted, it turns into contempt: they scorn and bully others, grow jealous and arrogant, and may even harm people. They conceal good deeds; their eyes wander and seem vacant, and their faces grow tense and stern. In conversation, they speak irrationally—a troubling sign.
When clear-sighted understanding becomes corrupted, it turns into a devious mind that uses glib flattery and cunning deceit to sow discord and slander others. They speak briskly, making their words sound true; when promoting a matter, they exaggerate and make a great show of it. Their eyes dart about, their knees readily tremble, and their secretive movements are hurried, revealing an inability to remain steady and self-possessed. They lack perseverance in their work and cannot hold an important, secure position for long.
When humility and frugality become corrupted, they turn into hidden malice, outward obedience paired with inward defiance, and even the treachery of brutality and rebellion. Their eyes are lowered, yet their hearts are troubled; they appear upright, but their words and conduct are cunning and severe. Their thoughts are broad yet perverse. In their company, one often sees angry sighs and sudden outbursts of agitation.
These corrupted forms of the five qualities are all sources of self-interested pursuit of gain. Thus, the sage brings Heaven and Earth into harmony and understands the people’s circumstances. Knowing that the five Qi (five inner temperaments) of human beings can change, the sage does not let private self-interest and the pursuit of gain sway their conduct.
Rulers who enjoy ease and pleasure and draw close to the people do so to win flattery expressed through respect and obedience. When they then lavish benefits on them, the people compete to curry favor, adopting gentle expressions and compliant attitudes in pursuit of gain. Thus a climate of deception and delusion takes hold, while the Wood Phase—one of the Five Phases, symbolizing upright character here—loses its steadfast and forthright energy. As this upright energy continues to decline, inauspicious energy accumulates in excess and brings about distortions. When people violate the taboos of the Year Star (Jupiter, which the ancients associated with the Wood Phase), they may contract epidemics caused by warm, toxic pathogens. When the people disobey the commands of the Director of Destiny, a divine office that governs the span of life, they may suffer disasters such as neck pain, agitation and fainting, or a shortened lifespan. Inauspicious energy spreads and steams upward, bringing calamities that give rise to one another and ultimately leave behind the harm caused by flattery and sycophancy.
Rulers who favor permissiveness and indulgence and draw close to the people do so to persist in acting arbitrarily out of self-interest. When they then lavish benefits on them, the people compete to put forward stubborn, self-aggrandizing opinions in pursuit of gain. Thus a climate of cruelty, violence, conflict, and disorder takes hold, while the Earth Phase—one of the Five Phases, symbolizing fairness and the ability to benefit others here—loses its just and beneficial energy. As this righteous energy continues to decline, the earth becomes slack and leaky, filth congeals, and disorder accumulates; the winds and thunder also become abnormal, with tremors moving in reverse. When people violate the taboos of the Quaking Star (Saturn, which the ancients associated with the Earth Phase), they may suffer palpitations and epidemics caused by steaming toxic energy. When the people disobey the commands of the Director of Peril, a divine office that governs dangers and calamities, they too invite disaster. Inauspicious energy spreads and steams upward, bringing calamities that give rise to one another and ultimately leave behind the harm caused by arrogance, indulgence, laziness, and neglect.
The opening of the third passage reads, “The ruler favors burdensome affairs and draws close to the people while lowering them in status.” It then describes the earth becoming slack and leaky, filth congealing, disorder accumulating, and the winds and thunder producing abnormal tremors. It also lists disasters such as violating the taboos of the Quaking Star, contracting an epidemic of palpitations and steaming toxicity, and disobeying the commands of the Director of Peril. The passage concludes that inauspicious energy spreads and steams upward, bringing calamities that give rise to one another and ultimately leave behind the harm caused by arrogance, indulgence, laziness, and neglect.
When the ruler delights in complexity, his care for the people takes on a lofty, superior air, sweeping past as swiftly as the wind. If he then enriches the people with benefits, they will compete to show off and outdo one another, nurturing treacherous desires for promotion and advancement through opportunism. Thus a climate of mutual bullying, trampling, and contempt takes hold, and the vital influence of the Metal phase (one of the Five Phases, symbolizing firmness, integrity, and trustworthiness) declines. As the imbalance accumulates, anomalous frosts and snows appear out of season. When people violate the taboos of Taibai (the ancient name for Venus, also associated with the Metal phase), they invite illnesses marked by painful Qi. When the people violate the prohibitions of the Divine Officer of Covenants, who oversees contracts and restraints, they suffer plagues that drain their primal Qi and cut off their breath, as well as military calamities, upheavals and casualties, shortened lifespans, and untimely deaths. The Qi of calamity spreads and rises like vapor, causing people to slight one another and harbor grudges, leaving embers of disorder behind.
When the ruler delights in cleverness and ingenuity, his care for the people takes the form of eloquent argument and a pursuit of ornate embellishment. If he then enriches the people with benefits, they will compete to cultivate clever refinements and a fashion for boastful deceit. Thus flattery, ingratiation, and the darkening of public judgment through biased hearing and belief take hold, and the discerning Qi of the Fire phase (one of the Five Phases, symbolizing brightness and clear perception) declines. As the imbalance accumulates, the sun’s light grows dim and it draws unnaturally close. When people violate the taboos of Yinghuo (the ancient name for Mars, also associated with the Fire phase), they invite heat and pestilence. When the people violate the prohibitions of the Divine Officer of Harmony, who oversees compliance and balance, they suffer disturbances by ghosts and spirits, bodily pain, inner agitation, fainting and breathlessness, terror and distress, as well as madness, defiance, schemes against the proper order, and covetousness for what is beyond their station. Their lifespans are cut short, and they die before their time. The Qi of calamity spreads and rises like vapor, making people extravagant and boastful, flattering others to harm them, and spying on one another with covetous intent, leaving embers of disorder behind.
When the ruler delights in severity, his care for the people takes the form of decisive and uncompromising conduct. If he then enriches the people with benefits, they will compete to harbor ill will and display their ruthless skill at harming others. Thus a climate of anxious suspicion, secret plotting of disorder, rejection of instruction, and defiant conduct takes hold. The righteous virtue represented by the Water phase (one of the Five Phases)…
If people cannot preserve their upright Qi (vital energy), it will disperse. As the loss of Qi accumulates, abnormalities arise: the moon is afflicted, its spirit is damaged, and its movements become irregular, now fast, now slow. When people violate taboos concerning the Star of the Year (the ancient name for Mercury), they invite insidious epidemics. When the people defy the prohibitions of the Recorder, a divine official responsible for keeping records and overseeing conduct, they suffer from illnesses that resist treatment, weakness and wasting, sudden stiffness and death, as well as calamities such as robbery, imprisonment, and execution. Their lifespans may even be cut short, bringing life to an abrupt end.
The Qi of calamity and blame spreads and rises like vapor, generating further harm. In this way, violent and licentious conduct, prohibitions, and abuse take root and bring disaster. When the Qi of the Five Constant Virtues—the fundamental Qi that sustains the constant Way and social order—falls out of balance, the world suffers calamities born of disorder among these virtues, and the people become mired in all manner of premature death and misfortune. These calamities are all stirred up by people pursuing honor and disgrace, competing for profit, and harboring thoughts of shame, resentment, hatred, insult, and jealousy.
Everyone’s nature is disturbed by Qi; when Qi grows agitated and confused, cravings and desires arise. At their root, these desires amount to little more than the mouth and belly seeking the enjoyment of the five flavors, the body seeking warm clothing and comfortable shelter, and men and women seeking union and the satisfaction of sexual desire. After the Five Virtues—humaneness, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness—had declined, people began pursuing delicacies and fine clothes for no good reason, repeatedly choosing among many concubines, and showing off their wealth and power. Their desires grew without end until they became insatiable.
Thus, profit and loss give rise to struggles over honor and disgrace; these struggles give rise to joy and anger; joy and anger lead to disputes over right and wrong; and those disputes in turn lead to rewards and punishments. Rewards and punishments are corrupt instruments of instruction in a declining age. Hearings of legal disputes are a source of calamities and abuses throughout the world. Neither rewards and punishments nor legal hearings can root out desires as they continue to grow. The ancients adopted these practices, perhaps to magnify their own power.
People’s desires grow strong: they covet gain and loathe loss, delight in honor and resent humiliation. This common disposition is the source of the “Five Scorchings”—five calamities that burn the body and mind and throw the world into disorder. How could it ever be satisfied? When people meet with honor, they rejoice without knowing when to be content; when they suffer humiliation, they grow angry without knowing when to stop. Once they fall to fighting, they brandish swords to show their courage, courting danger and plunging into peril. They do not care even if they are cut down by blades and arrows and lose their lives; fathers and sons, brothers among themselves, may not even have time to restrain one another. How, then, could these matters be settled through fine distinctions between right and wrong and the setting of standards? And how could standards for rewards and punishments, or laws announced in advance, put a stop to them?
The people’s “Five Clearings”—their pure and harmonious vital breath—are disturbed, and the people suffer the calamities of the Five Scorchings. This is all because rulers set people with Five Scorchings in their hearts to govern a populace beset by the Five Scorchings, without realizing that they themselves are already sunk deep in them. Do they understand that rescuing the people is fraught with difficulties like the Five Scorchings? In the end, they only inflame conflict between one another and breed resentment. This is the fault of failing to understand how things work. So even if they labor without rest from before dawn, they merely waste their effort; even if they set out at daybreak and hurry about in their carriages, they accomplish nothing.
When the Dao and De govern the world, the people are not tempted by elaborate promises of gain, and so they do not pursue perverse desires. They are not driven by harsh humiliations, and so they do not grow resentful over shame. When perverse desires and the resentment born of humiliation no longer prevail, greed naturally diminishes. As greed diminishes, the people’s customs settle into unity. When their customs settle into unity, an age of peace, simplicity, harmony, and contentment becomes deep and complete. The people of a peaceful age do not even know that they live in one, and so they are able to live in harmony and contentment. How could they understand what honor and shame, fighting and plunder, resentment and hatred, envy and attack are?
As for the lands south of Kunxu, the legendary sacred mountain, and the regions to the northwest and northeast, these customs have not spread there. This is the southeastern Red County, a name for China…
The institutions left behind by the teachings of social norms—the rites, laws, and distinctions of rank—remain, yet people do not understand their foundations. Nor do people recognize the calamities caused by armies and warfare. Even amid disasters of mutual harm, killing, and rebellion, some still carefully preserve their nature. Thus the compassionate and pure spirits of great immortals and sages appear. Seen in this light, why cling to minor conventions and regulations, or treat the past as a model?
When corrupt men hold power, they rely on statutes and punishments, revere authority, and grow arrogant and self-satisfied. They flaunt their power, assess how circumstances are changing, and seek to monopolize authority and punish those who oppose them. They use wealth and rank to control the people, unaware of how shallow this is. The world changes, circumstances vary, and people’s hearts change with them. From their original stubborn ideas, they slide into error and deviation, until these harden into entrenched abuses and bring about resentment, estrangement, and rebellion. The pattern is passed down through generations; who will awaken to it? Corrupt men, then, must not be entrusted with great responsibilities. Put them in command of troops, and disaster will be immense. Put them in charge of people devoted to Daoist learning and quiet cultivation, and Daoist learning will decline. Let them enter the ruler’s court and govern, and the dynasty will fall.
Can the signs of killing and warfare, and the course of events, be understood apart from the Qi of the Five Changes—the changing workings of the Five Phases? Sages offer people only a rough instruction. Matters could, in truth, be clearly understood; why should there be so much disorder? It is regrettable that people cling stubbornly to their ways and refuse to change. How did things come to this?
Why do realized people who have cultivated the Dao withdraw to mountain valleys? Is it because they enjoy gaining a reputation for shunning the world? They simply do not want worldly customs—the “Five Dregs,” the five kinds of corrupt and polluted Qi—to disturb the “Five Purities,” the five kinds of pure Qi that make up their nature. Corrupt habits in the world often use force and influence to overwhelm others and disturb their pure Qi. When someone goes against one’s wishes or speaks in a way one dislikes, it is hard to feel no anger or resentment. When things go badly and one must seek another’s help, few can do so without groveling or ingratiating themselves. And when one holds a high position and others come seeking help, few can avoid treating them with arrogance and contempt. These three are harmful forms of the “Five Dregs,” common in human society. If one lives among people with such habits, how could one hope to keep one’s pure Qi undisturbed? For this reason, Daoist practitioners should not live in close company with such people.
The Scripture of the Ninefold Spirit and Supreme Treasure says that the five human emotions are manifestations in the body of the spirit and Qi of Yin-Yang and the five organs. Therefore, those who cultivate immortality should withdraw to quiet mountain forests and purify themselves through the “Five Purifications,” so that their minds become clear and their Jing and Qi abundant, enabling them to commune with the wondrous true spirits.
The Qi of gentleness, reverence, compassion, and joy is stored in the liver. It is bestowed by the liver’s Wood-affiliated office and governed by the Spirit of Fate. In cultivating the liver Qi, one should observe the corresponding fasts and dates: on the tenth day of the first month, fast to regulate the Qi of Lesser Yang and encourage the liver Qi to rise; on the eighth day of the second month, stabilize the Qi of Lesser Yang so that it accords with the spring breeze; and on the sixth day of the third month, regulate the Qi of Bright Yang so that it, too, accords with the spring breeze. On the fourth day of the fourth month, go to the north bank of a spring whose waters flow eastward and choose a place facing east toward the rising sun. At dawn, bathe in an orchid infusion to purify body and mind. Burn incense facing the sun, then bow and pray to the Supreme True Great Dao, the Great True and Great Treasure Within, the spirit of the Left Supreme Master of Prohibition, and the various officials of the Left of the Upper Palace, making three hundred prostrations. Then sit upright on your knees, hold your heart in both hands, regulate your breath with sincere intent, and quietly contemplate the true spirit of the Wood Office, allowing no other thoughts to arise.
In this practice, do not seek worldly gain, and do not feign gentleness, reverence, or sincerity.
True compassion is the sincere benevolence within; illusory compassion is joy that lacks sincerity. If a practitioner can purify the body and quiet the mind, regulating the breath so that it remains measured, the Liver Qi will grow full and strong. Illnesses caused by the mild yet unsettled climate of spring will then be unable to disturb their original Qi. Their whole body will feel at ease and in harmony, their sinews and bones will be strong, and they will not suffer sudden illness of the head.
The Spirit in Charge of Fate, who governs the span of life, will watch over them, and the Azure Dragon, guardian of the East, will protect them. Azure Qi will surround them, azure fluids will nourish them, the essence of the Eastern Peak—Mount Tai—will accompany them, and the spirit of the valleys will guard them. If they practice alone in the mountains and forests, the beasts will draw near out of respect for their benevolent De, and will even become tame of their own accord. Wolves and tigers, too, will temper their ferocity in response to this compassion.
If their cultivation of purity is deep and their accumulated attainment substantial, the fungi of the Azure Emperor and the fungi of black jade—legendary elixirs of immortality—will appear wherever they go. By obtaining and consuming them, they can ascend to immortality and live three thousand years without growing weak.
If their cultivation of purity becomes deep and expansive, reaching the “Wood Palace,” the divine realm where the Qi of the East resides, they will become an immortal. Dwelling east of Kunlun, in the realm of Lesser Yang, where the Yang Qi of the East first arises, they will become an immortal of compassion and purity. Their supernatural powers and transformations will be vast: they can make the seas swell, or dry them up and turn Heaven and Earth upside down. They can also conjure palaces of jade and precious stone until they fill Heaven and Earth. Such a state expresses the nature of the deity of Lesser Yang in the Wood Palace.
The power governing the Qi of clear perception and acuity is hidden in the heart. It is bestowed by the Fire Court, the divine office in charge of fire and the Qi of the sun, and guarded by the spirit who oversees vigilance.
To regulate the heart spirit and purify the mind, observe abstinence on the fourth day of the fourth month, settling the Qi of Yangming and receiving the Yang Qi of summer. On the first day of the fifth month, follow the Yang Qi and nourish the breath. At noon on the twenty-seventh day of the sixth month, bathe in fragrant water infused with orchids to purify body and mind. Light incense, face south toward the sun, and bow in prayer to the Supreme, True and Perfect Dao, the Greatly True and Greatly Precious Inner Inner, the spirits of the Great Sun and Great Awakening, and the Directors of the Upper Palace. Perform three hundred kowtows. Then kneel upright, cup the heart in both hands, sincerely regulate the breath, and quietly contemplate the true spirits of the Fire Court, allowing no other thoughts to enter.
In practice, do not seek worldly gain; do not claim to be clever through thoughts that violate what is right; do not defy the correct Dao and presume to see clearly; do not let quick-wittedness stray from truth; and do not hold views that depart from the correct Dao.
If you can keep the body pure and the mind still over a long period, regulating the breath in due measure, the Qi of the heart will become balanced and peaceful, free from agitation. The disharmony brought by summer heat will be unable to disturb your original Qi. Your mind will become clear and bright, and your wisdom will open fully, enabling you to perceive the subtlety of the Dao and see through to your true nature; your eyes will no longer grow heavy with sleep. The spirit who oversees vigilance will protect you. A red dragon will guard you, red Qi will surround you, and red fluid will harmonize within you. The essence of the Southern Mountain will accompany you, and the spirits of the valleys will protect you. Then birds such as wild geese, cranes, luan birds, and phoenixes will answer your summons and come.
If you maintain pure practice day after day, the Red Emperor’s fungus and the Azure Jade fungus will appear where you walk and dwell. Obtain and consume them, and you will ascend to immortality, living nine thousand years without decline.
This method is profound and vast. When your cultivation reaches the realm of the Fire Court, the divine adept will be able to look down upon the solar domain south of Kunlun. The immortal spirit of Great Awakening has powers of transformation: it can make the sunlight at your neck shine, its radiance reaching across the four seas and shaking the lands in every direction. It can also soar through the air, meeting no obstacle wherever it goes. The Fire Court is the nature of the Sun God.
The breath of justice, generosity, and dignity is stored in the spleen. It is bestowed by the Earth Palace—the divine residence corresponding to the spleen—and guarded by Shishi, the spirit who protects the spleen. The Immortals of Great Awakening, Daoist perfected beings of the highest order, possess boundless powers of transformation. They can take the form of figures wearing the sun, whose radiance illuminates the four seas and shakes every quarter; they can also fly through the air, meeting no obstruction wherever they go. The Fire Palace is where the nature of the sun god resides.
To regulate and purify the spleen, fast on the twenty-seventh day of the sixth month to settle the sun god and receive the Qi of autumn. Then, at the hour of Si (nine to eleven in the morning) on the twenty-seventh day of the seventh month, bathe in fragrant water infused with orchid grass to purify body and mind. Afterward, burn incense, face the sun, bow, and pray for the Supreme Dao.
Worship with reverence the “True and Orthodox Great Dao,” the “Great Truth, Great Treasure Within,” the gods of the Upper Palace and Great Equilibrium, and the deities who oversee the palace’s various offices. First perform three hundred prostrations. Then kneel upright, cup your hands over your heart, and sincerely regulate and settle your breathing. Quietly contemplate the true spirits of the Earth Realm, allowing no other distracting thoughts to arise.
In practice, refrain from becoming entangled in worldly affairs. Do not recklessly seek fame or act against your proper role; do not put on a false front or lose your integrity. Do not give in to idleness and neglect, or become dull and forgetful; nor should you be stubborn and unyielding, unable to understand. If you purify body and mind and regulate your breathing according to a method, your spleen Qi will become balanced and pure, without slackening. Your mind will be at ease and quiet, free from confusion, obstruction, and vexation. You will also avoid ailments such as heaviness in the body, difficulty rousing yourself, and swellings or sores, as well as troubles caused by disharmony in the final summer season. Your original Qi will remain unharmed.
With this practice, your disposition will grow more even and calm, and you will not fall ill from weariness. Your tongue will be able to discern flavors and receive nourishment from medicines. The spirit of the Corpse of the Mirage, which protects the body’s vital force, will guard the practitioner; the Yellow Dragon will protect them, yellow Qi will surround them, and Yellow Fluid—the Daoist term for the body’s vital essence—will harmonize them. The essence of Central Peak will accompany them, ministers from the four directions will guard them, and the many ghosts will submit to them.
If you purify yourself and practice steadily over time, the Yellow Emperor’s Zhi and Red Jade Zhi, legendary Daoist elixirs made from sacred fungi, will appear where you walk and rest. If you obtain and consume them, you can ascend to immortality, extend your life by twenty thousand years, and halt decline. If your practice becomes deep and expansive, reaching the Earth Realm—the underworld or the domain of the deities who govern the land—you will behold the wondrous scene at the summit of Mount Kunlun and arrive at the immortal realm of Great Harmony. The Earth Realm is where the nature of the spirit of Great Equilibrium resides. What makes this spirit precious is its enduring stillness, not the manifestation of transformations.
The Qi of dignity, solemnity, correctness, and bearing is stored in the lungs. It is bestowed by the Metal Palace, the divine residence that governs lung Qi, and protected by the Spirit in Charge of Covenants, who oversees oaths and pledges and guards the lung Qi. To nourish the lungs, one should purify body and mind.
One should regularly fast and abstain on the twenty-seventh day of the seventh month to regulate the breath; on the third day of the eighth month, settle the Qi of Lesser Yin so that one may receive life-giving Qi; and on the twenty-seventh day of the ninth month, regulate the Qi of Jueyin so that one may receive vigorous Qi. Usually, at dusk, during the Shen hour (about three to five in the afternoon), bathe in an orchid-infused decoction to cleanse body and mind. Light incense, face the sun, and bow in prayer to the supreme, true, and perfect Great Dao; the Great True Treasure; the Inner Inner and Right Great Prohibition spirits who gather earth; and the various offices on the right side of the palace. Bow three hundred times. Then sit reverently in silence, kneel with both hands held over the heart, and sincerely regulate and steady the breath. Quietly visualize the true spirit of the Metal Palace, allowing no thoughts to wander.
In practice, one must refrain from all inappropriate displays of dignity and bearing: do not act arrogantly, indulgently, or perversely in worldly affairs; do not feign severity while harboring the intent to harm others; do not insult or slight people while putting on an air of authority; and do not become enamored of excessively ornate dress and appearance. If one keeps the body pure, regulates the breath, steadies it with sincerity, and quietly focuses on the true spirit of the Metal Palace without stray thoughts, the lung Qi will grow full and remain untiring. The pathogenic influence of autumn cold and disharmony will then be unable to disturb one’s original Qi. The breath will flow in harmony, clear and bright, and the chest will suffer neither depletion by cold nor harm from obstructed breathing.
The Spirit in Charge of Covenants will protect the practitioner, while a white dragon watches over him. White Qi will surround him, and white fluids will harmonize the Qi of his body. The essence of the Western Peak will accompany him; the spirits of mountains and marshes will guard him; and the essence of the bridges and crossings will attend him. Even tigers and wolves will attach themselves to him and obey his commands, becoming his servants. As pure practice accumulates day after day, White Emperor’s Fungus and Yellow Jade Fungus will appear before him as he moves and rests. If he gathers and consumes them, he will ascend to immortality and extend his life for seven thousand years without decline. If his pure practice reaches a profound, expansive, and manifest state, communicating directly with the Metal Palace, he can become a disciple of the spirits, survey the Land of Shaocheng west of Kunlun, and become an immortal who has attained the Dao.
Once perfected, his spiritual powers and transformations can shine like a crescent moon. He can walk on water without wetting his feet; when walking on land, he can seem to move across water, without the ground becoming hard beneath him. He can also make his body float up and down, and enter and leave water and fire…
His supernatural powers and transformations allowed him to become a crescent-shaped radiance; to walk on water without wetting his feet; and to walk on land as though it were water, without making the ground hard. He could also make images of water and fire appear above and below his body, displaying all manner of transformations.
The Golden Palace is the seat of the divine nature of the spirit who attained the Dao through Lesser Yin. Here, “Golden Palace” refers to the divine abode associated with this spirit, while “Lesser Yin” is a Daoist technical term. In his commentary, Xi Mengjie of Chengyang explains: “Reverence” means solemn dignity, without disrespect or irreverence; “gravity” means a proper and solemn expression; “awe” means a composed and clear bearing; and “bearing” means conduct that is unhurried and refined.
The four qualities of humility, frugality, subtlety, and secrecy are stored as Qi in the kidneys. They are bestowed by the Water Palace, the divine office that governs water and kidney Qi, and protected by the Record-Keeping Deity, who oversees records and inspection.
To keep kidney Qi clean and pure, one may fast and practice according to the seasons: on the eighteenth day of the tenth month, fast to regulate Jueyin and receive the Qi of winter; on the fifteenth day of the eleventh month, regulate Taiyin so that the Qi of the five organs settles; on the thirteenth day of the twelfth month, unblock Taiyang and receive kidney Qi; then, on the tenth day of the first month, practice in the same way. Each time, bathe at midnight with an aromatic orchid decoction to purify body and mind. Face north, toward the shadowy place, burn incense and light lamps, then bow and pray to the Supreme True Great Dao, the Great True and Great Treasure within the inner chambers, the Hangxie Deity (the original text notes that the character should be “xie”), the Deity of Taiyin, and the officials behind the palace. After bowing three hundred times, kneel upright, cup your hands over your heart, regulate your breath with sincerity, and quietly contemplate the true spirits of the Water Palace, allowing no other thoughts to arise.
During practice, guard against several deviations. Do not let worldly affairs pull you away. Do not turn humility into hypocrisy or crookedness. Do not let frugality become excess, or become insatiably greedy. Do not invoke subtlety as a pretext for secretly harboring poison and harming others while imagining no one will notice. Nor should you use secrecy as a cover for plotting private wrongdoing.
If you follow the prescribed rules, keep yourself pure, and regulate your breathing, kidney Qi will grow full and remain unharmed; winter’s cold evils will not injure your original Qi. Your steps will be strong and swift, and you will advance and retreat with steadiness. The waist, kidneys, bladder, thighs, and calves will be less prone to pain or illnesses caused by blocked Qi and blood.
If you persist in pure practice over a long period, the Record-Keeping Deity will protect you. The Black Dragon, black Qi, black liquid, the essence of the Northern Mountain, and the Deity of Taiyin will also accompany and guard you, and the numinous sunflower will return. If you dwell by the water, dragons, fish, and turtles will draw near. Those who have built up deep practice will even see the Black Emperor’s fungus and the White Jade fungus before they appear. By eating them, one may ascend to immortality and live for ten thousand years without growing weak. If pure practice becomes deep and expansive, its influence will reach the Water Palace, and the spirits will take you to see the domain of the Dark Capital north of Kunlun. There you will become an immortal of the Great Yu Jade Elixir.
The Deity of Hangxie in the Water Palace also has the power to transform: it can darken the sky and bring about other changes, send offerings from afar, make the large small and the small large, turn what exists into nothing, and bring something into being from nothing. These are the divine powers possessed by the Water Palace and the Deity of Hangxie.
Anyone who studies the Dao but cannot devote themselves wholeheartedly to cultivation and keep their conduct pure will not receive the willing protection of the spirits of the Five Storehouses, who govern the five internal organs. As a result, even practices such as regulating the breath, taking medicines and their refined essences, or consuming elixirs, minerals, and other preliminary substances may be impaired. Even if these practices bring results for a time, their benefit amounts to no more than five hundred years of cultivation. Most such methods lead practitioners to fall back and sink into decline, making success difficult.
If one cultivates Qi of utmost purity within the Five Storehouses, keeps Jing and Qi from dissipating, and uses them to nourish body and mind, one can then arise from the pure Qi of the Nine Origins, the Daoist term for the pristine source. Such people can always become immortals, spirits, or sages.
The method of fasting and purification involves bathing and maintaining cleanliness. Practitioners commonly choose to bathe and fast on the tenth day of the first month, the eighth day of the second month, the sixth day of the third month, the fourth day of the fourth month, the first day of the fifth month, the seventeenth day of the sixth month, the twenty-seventh day of the seventh month, the third day of the eighth month, the twentieth day of the ninth month, the eighteenth day of the tenth month, the fifteenth day of the eleventh month, and the thirteenth day of the twelfth month. According to Daoist calculations of Qi and its cycles, these are all days when the Heavenly Emperor travels through Dongjing, the name of a star mansion. Those who practice the Dao should therefore begin a new period of cultivation on these days, starting with a bath to cleanse themselves and observing heightened care and reverence.
The method of regulating the breath involves gathering in the breaths stirred by the five emotions and gradually bringing the mind and spirit to stillness. Practitioners then commonly train on the third, ninth, eighteenth, and twenty-seventh days of the second month, as well as on the days Jia Yin, Yi Si, Ding Si, Jia Zi, and Ding Mao. The phrase “Wang Xiang Cheng” at the end of the original refers to choosing dates according to auspicious conditions associated with flourishing, favorable phases, and success.
This method of ingesting Qi—cultivating through regulated breathing and visualization to absorb and regulate the breath—begins by gathering in the breaths stirred by the five emotions: joy, anger, sorrow, pleasure, and desire. Gradually, the mind and spirit are brought to rest. Afterward, practitioners generally choose the third, ninth, eighteenth, or twenty-seventh day of the second month, or days such as Jia-yin, Yi-si, Ding-si, Jia-zi, and Ding-mao, which are considered suitable for cultivation. They practice in a quiet place in the mountains or woods, near water flowing eastward and a sweet spring, choosing a spot that faces the sun. Such places are thought to be filled with abundant, balanced Yang energy.
Before practicing, bathe in a decoction of orchid leaves, then visualize a one-inch-square, “field”-shaped pattern at the “Jade Chamber” (three inches below the navel). Focus on the Jade Chamber and guide the breath to gather in the Dantian (the part of the body where vital essence and Qi are stored and cultivated). Remove the hairs in the nostrils and lie on your back with your posture straight, feet five inches apart and each arm five inches from the body. Close your eyes and clench your hands as an infant would. Use a pillow woven from rushes, about three inches high. If you have an ailment in the chest, raise it to five inches; if you have an ailment below the navel, use no pillow.
Once you begin ingesting Qi, stop eating raw vegetables, raw fruit, and hard foods. During the practice, eat one mouthful less each day; after ten days, you can stop eating. Two or three days later, your abdomen may sometimes rumble as if you were hungry. You may take a little nourishment in the form of good, plump dried dates and “Upper Shu Decoction,” but do not exceed these amounts in a day and night. If you do not feel like eating, do not force yourself. Drink no more than five sheng of water in a day and night. Taiyi fermented brew (a fermented drink for practitioners) may also be taken, up to five sheng a day; do not stop drinking it. Keep a date pit in your mouth, as it is said to help you withstand the breath and produce saliva.
With this practice, the breath between the chest and abdomen gradually grows full, while the stomach and intestines become empty. Once empty, harmonious Qi can circulate freely. The Five Spirits (the spirits associated with the body’s five viscera) will also gather and provide support, and ultimately you will ascend to immortality.
The Family Sayings of Confucius states: “Those who feed on breath are spiritually perceptive and long-lived; those who eat grain are clever but short-lived; those who eat nothing do not die and possess spiritual powers; those who eat a mixed diet easily attract every illness and malign influence.” The text therefore holds that the less one eats, the more open the mind and the longer the life; the more one eats, the more constricted the mind and the shorter the life.
Zhai Wei’s Treatise on Explaining the Zhou Commentary says: “The nine heavens are distant, and the myriad things are vast. Breath rises and steams; living beings multiply. Things of every kind appear one after another, differing in size and busily entangled in gain and loss.” Human beings live in the world like a speck of dust, floating briefly amid the filth; a country’s territory is like a tiny grain of stone in the earth, lodged alone within the vast expanse of Heaven and Earth. Zhuangzi says that the four seas in relation to the world are like a tiny heap suspended in the air and set within a great marsh; a single country in relation to the four seas is like one grain of rice in a vast granary. How can the rights and wrongs of a lifetime, or its petty gains and losses, deserve a place in an expansive mind? Thus, those who attain the Dao look lightly upon the world and regard the myriad things as small. They do not do so to cultivate an affected, haughty outlook; it is simply because…
Wealth and status cannot unsettle his heart, and honor and riches cannot tarnish his vision. He seeks to settle his spirit and purify his vital energy; what he values is simply holding fast to his original nature.
On Mount Xishan in Zhongling Commandery, an ancient region in the area of present-day Jiangxi, there is a Hongya altar. Beside it lives Yang Jun, the Master Who Dwells in Truth. Knowing that I understood the arts of the Dao, he came to ask me to explain the central teaching of “the Dao giving birth to life.”
I said, “Have you not heard what the Scripture of the Western Ascension says? People know only heaven, earth, and the myriad things, but do not know what gives rise to life. The scripture also says, ‘I share one Qi with heaven and earth and move together with them; I hold fast to the root and do not imitate the multitude.’ From this we can see that if those who cultivate the Dao do not understand the source of life and the root of the Dao, they will remain confused and unable to investigate where the Dao comes from. If you seek long life, first cultivate the root of life. Do you understand?”
Yang Jun said, “I have not yet grasped it.”
So I told him, “If you wish to understand, quickly prepare your vows and precepts.” These are the vows taken and precepts observed before cultivating the Dao, meant to discipline body and mind and express sincere commitment to seeking the Dao.
Like someone parched and hungry longing for food and water, I yearn to cultivate the Dao (the Way). Looking upon this fleeting world, I see only smoke and dust filling my eyes. I seek to grasp the substance of Xiyi, the Dao beyond the reach of the senses, and to nurture it continually within the bellows of Heaven and Earth, the mechanism through which Qi (vital energy) generates and flows. I cast off worldly artifice and quietly seek what is real and unadorned. From the vague and formless, I trace the presence of the Dao and see all things emerge from their first stirrings.
At this point, the myriad forms seem to surge through the void, yet my small measure of sincerity remains unwavering. I prostrate myself in reverence and plead, vowing to guard my words with care. In my mind, I come to the tranquil altar of the Most High, a revered Daoist deity, and quietly contemplate the jeweled throne of the Empty Emperor, another revered Daoist deity. Immortal attendants hold tallies, while maidens burn incense. Since I have received proof that this matter is indeed true, how could I still harbor doubt? Doubt melts away like ice, and the first signs of what is to come appear like lamplight.
I bear such weighty kindness as though a mountain rested on my head; gratitude for this profound grace is already engraved in my heart. If someone were to divulge it recklessly, or a person who had attained the Dao were unwilling to pass it on, then violating the prohibitions that govern the circumstances would bring guilt and calamity; even the slightest action would invite punishment. I swear by the light of day and pledge myself with a sincere heart. Within me are fear and earnest supplication, and my grief is beyond measure.
Then I said to him, “Since you are so sincere, I will tell you the root from which life continually renews itself.”
At the beginning of human life, the Jing and blood of man and woman combine, and a kind of “Dao” naturally emerges. At first it is like a drop of water; later, the water in the bladder becomes what remains in excess. Within the water is a current of Qi, knotted and still without a place to dwell. Suddenly it responds to the essence of pure Yang in Heaven and Earth. This essence enters the Qi and becomes joined with it; the Qi then nourishes it. This is called “Shen.”
Shen is extremely subtle. Though nourished by the water and Qi, it also fears being overwhelmed by Qi that is too forceful. This is like watering a seed until its shell cracks open; but if the seed is soaked in water, it will die. Within the water, the essence of pure Yang gives rise to two kidneys. The two kidneys correspond to the numbers of Yin and Yang. Separated by the water, they support and protect Shen and Qi, allowing Qi and the Shen of the kidneys to become responsive and lively. This is what is meant by “Qi is the mother, Shen the child.”
Once the root of the Dao has been conceived, the myriad things gradually take on form. When child and mother have matured, they can no longer remain in the same place. The “child” must develop and change, forming a dwelling of its own; only then can the “mother” be at peace. Shen also needs to be guided by something external so that it can leave the mother. Thus, two points of Qi within the water are used to correspond to the number of the kidneys, while Shen guards and gathers them through the light of the sun.
Yet one must also fear that water may become too abundant, or that the Five Phases may be incomplete and unable to bring form to completion. So Earth is used to restrain Water. Fearing that Earth will overcome Water entirely, Wood is used to restrain Earth. Fearing that Wood will overcome Earth entirely, Metal is used to restrain Wood. Fearing that Metal will overcome Wood entirely, Fire is used to restrain Metal. If Fire overcomes Metal entirely, Water is used from within to restore balance. Water, Earth, Wood, Metal, and Fire thus nourish and restrain one another, bringing the myriad things into being. This is what is meant by the human eye.
The eye corresponds to Heaven and Earth and contains all Five Phases: the black center of the pupil belongs to Water; the yellow around it belongs to Earth; farther outward are green for Wood, white for Metal, and red for Fire. Once the five colors appear, Yang Shen entrusts its light to the eyes. This is called “Shen-light.” The eyes are governed by the liver because their brightness resembles the sun. The sun rises in the east, and the liver is located in the east and belongs to Wood; therefore, the liver stores, nourishes, and governs the eyes. The Huangting Jing (Yellow Court Scripture) says, “The liver spirit is Dragon Mist; its name is Containing Brightness.” The commentary explains that because the sun rises in the east, it is called “Containing Brightness.”
Shen belongs to pure Yang. Its movement continually grows and soars, like the ceaseless circuits of the sun and moon in the heavens.
As the gaze gradually rises, it must illuminate the body’s exterior and become the key gateway for Shen (spirit). Shen gathers within the eyes and dwells at the center, gazing intently through them. With this gradual cultivation, it will leave its mother body without one’s noticing. The eyes serve only to guide Shen out of the mother body; afterward, Shen dwells outside and responds to Shen, and must not remain attached to the eyes. If this cannot be achieved, the transformation and generation described earlier cannot be completed.
Though the Qi mother has left its offspring, it must continue to nourish it, helping it grow and become settled. If this care stops midway, neither mother nor offspring can be at peace. Therefore, one must use Wood to generate Fire. The “Fire” spoken of here is the heart, which is used to nurture Shen. Within the heart is an empty space of about one inch, where Shen can dwell. Shen dwelling in the heart is called “numinous,” which is why the heart is known as the “numinous terrace.” Shen belongs to Yang, and the heart belongs to Fire; therefore, Shen can dwell within the heart. This is like water flowing toward damp places and fire tending toward dry ones.
A Daoist text says, “The heart is the city of Shen.” The heart is more perceptive than the other organs because Shen dwells within it, not because the heart itself possesses an exclusive spiritual nature. Without Shen within, what would distinguish the heart from the other organs? It is only because the heart belongs to Yang and tends to move and soar that it is often unable to settle. If the eyes can keep Shen firmly at rest, the heart too will cease its restless movement. This requires the practice of the Dao to become thoroughly mature; otherwise, it is difficult to keep the heart undisturbed.
Next, the liver, lungs, spleen, six bowels, five bodily forms, nine orifices, and hair are also brought into being and transformed by Shen. Here the method of cultivating the eyes is taken as the model, because the eyes are the outward expression of the five viscera. Cultivate in this way for 270 days—that is, the number “three nines,” reaching the utmost limit of the Yang number—and the human body will have fully developed.
After leaving the mother’s womb, Shen (spirit), the human faculty of awareness, no longer returns to the place where it first took shape. Gradually, the influence of the Five Flavors—the tastes of food and drink—makes it heavy and unclear. Shen and Qi (vital energy), the energy of life’s activity, work together and accompany one another, yet they cannot untie their knot and nourish and fulfill each other. Instead, they turn against one another. When it is said that the child and mother have left their source, this is because they do not yet have separate places to dwell, and the parts of the body are not yet fully formed. They must therefore separate and develop individually. Once they have settled, they no longer respond to one another. How, then, can their relationship as child and mother be said to proceed in harmony and order?
The saying “the heart is the horse of Qi” means that Qi follows wherever the mind directs it. Some people can occasionally make Qi move to a particular place in the body, but do not know how to return it to its root, the place where it first joined with its source. Those who cultivate the Dao must pay attention to this. The spleen lies close to the kidneys, just as the dark part of the eye is separated from the red part by a greater distance. This is enough to show that different parts of the body lie at different distances from one another.
Shen always gathers in the heart, but also dwells in Jing (essence), nourishing the body, moistening one’s natural disposition, and sustaining the bone marrow. In this way, it keeps a person strong and long-lived. The longer a person lives, the longer Shen can remain settled within the body. When a person faces danger and their hair stands on end, it is because Shen fears that its dwelling may be harmed.
If someone dies a violent death while their original Qi (the vital energy at the root of life) is still vigorous and has not declined, it cannot return to its source. Sometimes it becomes a hidden ghost, attaching itself to and troubling another person. This happens because the original Shen has not yet weakened or fallen ill, and the body that carries it has not been completely depleted. The Spring and Autumn Annals’ statement that “when common men and women die violent deaths, their hun and po souls cling to other people” describes this situation. Among those who die violently, some have Shen and Qi that gradually diminish but are not yet entirely exhausted. Later, vigorous Qi carries them into a human rebirth, and they can still clearly remember what happened before.
This account concerns memories of past lives. Examples such as Bao Liang remembering what happened in a well and Yang Hu recognizing a jade bracelet are generally regarded as cases of remembering events from a previous life.
A young boy may suddenly die because the Jing and Qi within his body have not yet dispersed. Here, “Jing” refers to what forms when bodily fluids and Qi accumulate. If Jing and Qi are disturbed and leak away, Shen can no longer remain settled; if seminal fluid continues to discharge, it also diminishes Shen’s function. When Jing and Qi are depleted, Shen is depleted as well, and a person’s condition gradually approaches that of a newborn.
Yet when the heart’s Qi is already strong and Water Qi is abundant, the body is firm and vigorous. If the Five Flavors (sour, bitter, sweet, pungent, and salty) are excessively depleted, Qi and Shen can no longer work in harmony. Once the mind and spirit no longer cling to the body, there is no way to hold them back: they depart in an instant and return to emptiness. The purest part of the original Jing and Qi, meanwhile, attaches itself to Heaven. This is what is meant by saying, “Though the physical form disperses, the nature and spirit do not perish.” The Book of Rites says, “The bones and flesh turn to earth; the soul and Qi return to Heaven.”
The Original Spirit, which governs mental and spiritual activity, is like a ruler, while the other spirits are like ministers. Once the Original Spirit departs, the other spirits lose their master, and the body becomes like a country left without a ruler. That is why the heart is called the emperor. When Water Qi loses the governance of Yang Qi, it too disperses. After Jing, Qi, and Shen have all departed, the body declines and collapses: this is death. After death, there is no awareness.
People in the world say they love the Dao and cultivate it, yet they do not know what the “Dao” they cultivate actually is. Someone who likes drinking wine, for example, knows that wine is brewed from yeast and rice. Someone who admires beauty knows of beauties such as Xishi and Luofu. Someone who loves wealth knows about precious things such as gold and jade. In rhyming, too, people can distinguish the related words and sounds from the initial “dong” to the final “fa.” Yet when it comes to the word “Dao,” they are at a loss. Some explain the Dao as emptiness and naturalness, or as cultivating the mind and doing good, but they still have not grasped its essential meaning. If they do not understand what the Dao is, where can they begin cultivating it?
People do not realize that what is called the “Dao” is water; within the human body, it corresponds to Qi (vital energy). Thus, when the scripture says, “The Dao gives birth to One,” it uses the storing and accumulating of water to explain this. “One Yin and one Yang are called the Dao” refers to the interaction of water and fire. Once Yang Qi departs, Yin Qi also dissipates. The Dao can no longer be established, and the person dies.
Heaven and Earth are born from the Dao; this may be described as the Dao emerging into the world. When the Dao departs, a person dies; when water dries up, fish die as well. Thus, “Yin Qi as mother” refers to the root of Yin Qi within the body, not to an external, malign Yin force. “Yang Shen” refers to the essence of pure Yang Qi, that is, the Original Shen (the spirit at the source of life); it does not mean the spirits of the five organs and the various parts of the body. The Original Shen can give rise to the three Hun souls, the seven Po souls, and the spirits throughout the body.
The Huangting Jing (Classic of the Yellow Court), a Daoist classic on health cultivation and visualization, says: “The kidney spirit is Xuanming, styled Yuying.” Its commentary explains: “Kidney essence is a child born of the Original Shen, and so it is called ‘nurturing the infant.’” The spirits of the five organs and the various parts of the body mentioned here are likewise all born of the Original Shen.
The Huangting Jing says: “The spirit of the kidneys is named Xuanming, with the courtesy name Yuying.” The commentary explains that kidney essence can give rise to descendants, which is why it is called “Nurturing Infants.” Between the two kidneys, the male reproductive organ is called the Gate of Essence, and the female reproductive organ the Womb. Once the Gate of Essence opens, kidney Qi is also depleted. As a result, Yang Qi within the body disperses and Yin Qi is diminished. The kidneys are therefore regarded as where Yin Qi gathers, and the heart as where Yang Qi gathers. The generation of all things begins in Yin and then enters Yang, just as all things grow from moisture. Essence arises from the kidneys, and descendants are also conceived there, so all of this is connected with the kidneys. In general, the original spirit in the heart—the governing spirit of a person—acts through the body and governs life together with it. The Three Hun, the three kinds of soul-spirit described in Daoism, also take part.
What truly harms the body are the Seven Po, the souls associated with the physical form apart from the Three Hun, and the Three Corpses, the malevolent spirits said to reside within the body. These are hidden, Yin, malign forces that damage the body. A person’s spirit and Qi are often unable to withstand them, and so the person dies. After death, the Three Corpses and Seven Po are no longer restrained. The original spirit is like a ruler, while the Corpses and Po are like ministers. If corrupt ministers rebel, they disrupt the state and threaten the ruler. If one can cultivate the breath and strengthen the original spirit, the Seven Po and Three Corpses will be unable to overcome it, and one’s lifespan can naturally be extended.
When a person does not die from a sudden illness, the pulse is often occasionally sluggish and obstructed, preventing Qi and blood from reaching one of the viscera. Once that organ weakens, the Qi of the Five Phases overcomes one another in sequence, until Fire Qi is exhausted, the Yang pulse is severed, and the original spirit departs; the person then dies. A sluggish, obstructed pulse may also result from damage already present within the body.
In the past, when Bian Que treated the illness of the Crown Prince of Guo, he said it was “corpse-like collapse,” a sudden loss of consciousness in which the person appears dead. This happens when the Yang pulse sinks and the Yin pulse surges upward, leaving the breath blocked and unable to flow. The pulse of Yang Qi in the upper body is cut off, while the channels of Yin Qi in the lower body are damaged. Yang Qi is obstructed within the channels, so the person appears unconscious, as if dead. When Yang Qi enters the collateral channels and viscera and causes a reversal collapse, the person can sometimes be revived. When Yin Qi enters the collateral channels and viscera and causes a reversal collapse, the person dies. These are sudden disorders that may sometimes arise in the Five Viscera. Skilled physicians can distinguish and treat them, while those less skilled are left uncertain. There is indeed reason behind this account.
Alas! The eyes chase the myriad sights, while the heart is pulled along by distracting thoughts. The spirit is driven about, and the body is left without direction. In this way, a household has no master, and a state or city is bound to fall into ruin. This is only natural. If a master neglects his own house and busies himself only with matters outside, the house will inevitably decay day by day. When a person understands where Shen—the spirit that governs body and mind—resides, and how the Qi of mother and child circulates, they can see the path to cultivating the body and attaining understanding.
If the body has no master and one simply lets the breath in the throat run its course, breathing does no more than clear the organs and digest the Qi of grain. In the end, it cannot make Yin Qi return or Yang Qi come back, nor can it replenish the blood and brain marrow. The breathing of ordinary people differs from that of a True Person, one who has perfected the Dao. The Nanhua Perfect Scripture, the Daoist title for the Zhuangzi, says, “Ordinary people breathe from the throat; the True Person breathes down to the heels.” A commentary explains that this means breathing from the root. The text also says that the True Person’s breath is deep and sustained. These words express precisely this principle. How could it be easy to achieve? If one believes only in the natural coming and going of the breath, it is impossible to attain the Dao. Unless Shen governs each inhalation and exhalation, the breath cannot work to its full capacity. A True Person says, “When Shen can govern Qi, the breath through the nose will not cease.” This is a penetrating observation. During practice, one can also swallow the saliva in the mouth and, through focused intention, guide it to the Sea of Qi—the area around the Dantian below the navel—so that it reaches the body’s spiritual root.
Alas! Do people today really not understand the relationship between Shen and the body? People can calculate the affairs of all things, yet cannot investigate how their own Shen and body respond to one another and bring each other to fulfillment. They remember only what happened after the age of three and know nothing of what came before. If they trace understanding to its furthest limit, they will see the source from which Shen, the body, and original Qi work together, and understand that they are not two separate things. Once they know that Shen and true Qi are one, with different names, they need only hold to this and focus their attention in contemplation to return to their original nature. This is what is meant by “deep roots and firm base”: making the foundation secure.
To “restore Qi” is to let Qi return to the root of life’s beginning. The Returning hexagram in the Book of Changes says, “One Yang …”
Human beings exist within the five Yin (the five elements that make up the body and mental activity). As for the meaning of “returning the Elixir,” it clearly does not refer only to “subduing the Elixir” or “taking the Elixir.” Heaven is the starting point from which Qi arises, and Qi is the foundation from which the body takes shape. Without a body, Qi has nowhere to take hold; without Qi, the body cannot form. Only through their mutual dependence can Qi and body become one.
The sages knew that seeking solely outside oneself brings no benefit. They therefore returned to the source and gathered in body and mind, breathing like a fetus in the womb (fetal breathing), so that the inner self became clear and the body harmonious. In this way, they accorded with the primal, natural harmony and the state of unadorned authenticity, attaining the blessed realm of longevity. When Shen and Qi are in harmony, Shen can illuminate the five viscera; when the breath is harmonious, its strength can be put to use in the limbs. A Daoist scripture says that if one turns inward to contemplate oneself for three consecutive months, concentrates the mind, and keeps the original spirit steady, a radiance of Shen will arise and continue to nourish the five viscera. Ordinary people exhaust their minds in ceaseless activity all day long, never allowing their awareness to rest in the body even for a moment, yet they hope for longevity. How far they are from it!
If one succeeds in cultivating fetal breathing and bringing Jing and Qi under control, the channels of Jing in men can flow freely, while women can avoid forming lumps below the navel. Nothing is more fundamental to the transformations and workings of all things than Qi; nothing is more subtle in the practice of the perfected than Shen. Within emptiness there is something that exists, called Shen; in the depths of obscurity there is Jing, called Qi. Alas, when Shen and Qi arrive, they are elusive and hard to fathom; when they depart, they leave no clear sign. They are difficult to bring forth but easily scattered, and the sages grieved deeply over this. Why do people so readily dissipate their Qi? One who does not understand the principles of the body cannot be spoken to about Qi; one who does not understand Qi cannot be spoken to about Shen. Understanding Shen is the foundation for cultivating the Dao.
The Book of Changes says, “Jing and Qi gather to form things, while wandering hun and po bring about change.” If change loses its proper measure, people cannot live long. Thus the Queen Mother’s Way of the Golden Dangling Ornaments and Jade Pendants—a method of cultivation symbolized by ornaments of gold and jade—and Xuanyuan’s technique of inward vision and returning to the root—a method of contemplating oneself and returning to one’s source—are teachings one cannot afford to dismiss.
Alas! All things come to an end, while Heaven and Earth alone endure. Human beings all die and cannot live forever. Therefore, we cannot dismiss the Daoist methods of cultivation said to have been transmitted by the Queen Mother of the West—the way of the golden pendants and jade ornaments—or the art practiced by the Yellow Emperor Xuanyuan: turning the gaze inward to gather the mind and return to one’s original nature.
Alas! All things come to an end, yet Heaven and Earth endure. Ordinary people die, but realized beings who have succeeded in cultivating the Dao can live forever. This is because they are attuned to the Qi that arises through the interaction of Yin and Yang. If people can preserve the Yin-Yang Qi within themselves, that Qi can also sustain and protect them. Heaven and Earth do not die, while people do, because people gradually decline and decay amid Heaven and Earth. Collapsed walls and ruined city ramparts can be restored with packed earth; a weakened old tree or a failing fruit tree can be revived by grafting on new branches; a broken cart or leaking boat can be repaired with timber; cracked or leaking cauldrons and pots can be reinforced with iron. When people grow old, too, they can restore their vitality by nourishing their spirit and turning back toward its source. These are teachings of the High Immortals on how to move from decline to renewed flourishing; they are essential to know.
The Yang Elixir can enable a person to ascend to Heaven, while the Yin Elixir can make the body light enough to rise aloft. The Yang Elixir refers to the Great Returning Elixir, a Waidan preparation. The Yin Elixir refers to the principle of returning to one’s original nature through inner cultivation. When the Yellow Emperor asked Guangchengzi about the Dao, Guangchengzi said, “Do not tire the body or deplete your vital energy. Think little and desire little, and you may live forever.” The most important thing in cultivating the Dao is to take Jing as the root and Qi as the foundation. A scripture says, “One who is skilled at nourishing the root of the spirit will never wither again.” The methods for nurturing one’s true nature and regulating body and mind depend on oral transmission between teacher and student; they are not written in books. Once you become still and cease restless action, your mind and spirit can respond freely when they meet external things. Clear away every distracting thought and practice for a long time until the method becomes familiar. As what is hidden grows gradually clear, you will surely attain the Dao.
Key to Distinguishing Doubts About Nourishing Life: Written by Qizhenzi, Shi Jianwu.
Primordial Qi, the original energy of the pre-heaven state, has no fixed form. It waxes and wanes with the seasons. All things are born and die, changing in step with the abundance or decline of this original energy. They exist within nature, yet do not know why change happens of its own accord. All things that receive the Qi of Heaven and Earth, take shape, and come into being should first understand their root. Once the root is understood, the questions of branches and details can all be grasped. Those who cultivate the Dao should first set their source in order; when the source is set right, later practice can then find a response. If they abandon the root and seek outward, turning away from the proper source to follow deviant paths, then even if they read every school and exhaust the learning of every philosopher, they will only add empty arguments and will never achieve the preservation and nourishment of body and mind. Those who truly understand will find insight in these words.
Look at the world today: the number of people who are fond of Daoist arts is beyond counting. They know to preserve themselves through tranquility and simplicity, yet do not understand that within tranquility and simplicity there are subtle workings. They know to take emptiness as their principle, yet do not understand that within emptiness, things are not simply left undone. If they do not understand the subtle workings of emptiness and tranquility, but focus only on silence and stillness, while vainly imagining that something can be accomplished apart from body and spirit, their efforts will bring no benefit and are not the right path to nourishing life and cultivating the Dao.
Spirit depends on the body as its dwelling, and the body is sustained by spirit. If spirit leaves the body, the body can scarcely be preserved. Some people take medicines made from plants, trees, minerals, and stones in hopes of strengthening and protecting the body. Yet they do not understand the nature of these medicines or consider the changes of the four seasons and the proper and improper times to take them. Prolonged use instead damages the body’s inner balance, and often brings a host of illnesses before middle age. Shallow-minded people then say that cultivating the Dao is like chasing the wind and trying to catch a shadow, and that success is impossible. In turn, they regard Daoist cultivators as ineffectual and call those who truly practice in seclusion followers of deviant ways. This is deeply distressing.
Someone therefore mocked me, saying, “I have heard that studying the Dao can bring long life. From childhood to old age, I have seen more than a thousand people study the Dao. Whether they practiced breathing exercises, abstained from grain, commanded ghosts and spirits, summoned deities, purified their minds and desires, or cultivated themselves in pursuit of immortality, I have never heard of anyone who truly escaped death. They are buried underground when they die, and merely use the name ‘release from the corpse’ to cover it up. From this, it seems that those said to have attained the Dao must simply have had extraordinary bones; it cannot be something one gains through study.”
Hearing these words, I felt compassion, and my spirit grew unsettled. I pondered for a moment, then sighed and replied, “What you have just said is truly shallow, and gravely mistaken. Even in ordinary skills, some people succeed and others do not. How much more so with the root of the Great Dao, whose mystery is profound and whose depths are hidden from view—how could it be attained in haste? The Great Dao is impartial; it responds to all who are able to resonate with it. If attaining the Dao depended entirely on having an innate immortal constitution, would that not be a far too superficial view of the matter? As for breathing exercises and abstaining from grain, these have long been esteemed methods of Daoist cultivation. If a person truly masters them…”
Some people speak of taking elixirs to make the body light and rise aloft. They claim that, with no impurities in their digestive tract, they can rise straight into the clouds, become weightless, and even keep company with luan birds and immortal cranes. Those who gather and ingest medicinal plants cite the legend of the Mao Maiden as proof, while those who practice breathing exercises point to the numinous tortoise. Yet they do not realize that such practices may secretly deplete the body’s original Qi (the vital energy at the root of life) and gradually exhaust fetal Jing (the essence associated with life’s foundations). Still they cling to claims in the Songzhu texts and remain trapped by errors in the written word. It is truly lamentable. Is this not strange?
As for techniques for commanding ghosts and spirits or summoning and questioning deities, these belong to Daoist ritual practice. Through deep study and mastery of the relevant scriptures, one may indeed gain an empty reputation beyond the world. But to make such pursuits the foundation of seeking the Dao is mere delusion.
Primordial Qi (the original vital energy from which Heaven and Earth bring forth all things) did not come into being at some particular time. It existed between Heaven and Earth before the human body had taken shape. When the scriptures say that it “arose before Heaven and Earth,” they mean primordial Qi. The primordial Qi within the human body comes from the Qi bestowed by one’s parents at conception; primordial Qi is also true Jing. Why is this so? When Jing remains within oneself, the body can grow; when Jing is bestowed upon another, it can bring that person into being. If one transfers one’s own Jing and Qi outward, where they congeal into the other person’s primordial Qi, that person takes shape, while oneself is diminished.
The Inner Landscape Scripture, a Daoist text on nourishing life, says, “To live long, be careful in matters of the bedchamber.” This refers to the subtle art of working with the vital essence: when primordial Qi congeals, it becomes Jing, and the Jing in the body is the root of primordial Qi. If one can use Qi to move Jing through the Upper and Lower Origins—the upper and lower regions of cultivation within the body—and then take in fresh breaths, it can transform back into Jing in about ten days. It is like taking cooked food out of a pot and adding fresh food in its place, again and again without end. With this cultivation, even Heaven and Earth cannot limit one’s longevity. Once the Upper Origin is full, the joints throughout the body naturally grow strong: an old person can regain the vigor of youth, and a person in their prime can become young again, like an infant.
In this way, the upper and lower origins can be connected, allowing the Qi in the meridians of my body to circulate along a set course. Whether gentle and gradual or forceful, its movement must accord with the proper rules. Carefully tending my inner palace—the organs and chambers within the body—may bring the attainment of immortality. If I do not tend the body, death will ultimately be unavoidable.
A person lives within Qi as a fish lives in water. The sinking, rising, and direction of Qi’s movement seem to be adjustable at will. With regular practice, the joints throughout the body will become free and open, and one will feel a warmth and ease like that of spring. In time, understanding will come naturally. If Qi is blocked or there is illness, focus the mind on the middle origin, the central region within the body, and imagine a flame burning it away. Qi will then flow freely, and once it does, the pain and illness will ease.
The heart is called the Crimson Palace, a term in Daoist internal alchemy for the palace where the heart resides. The Crimson Palace is red and has the nature of fire. Imagine a flame within the heart, coursing through the whole body. This not only allows Qi to flow, but also dispels harmful influences. Before circulating Qi, simply imagine the flame once. The scripture says that Guangchengzi once gathered flames to burn away the five poisons. Here, “five poisons” refers to the five flavors. If the flavors of the five grains are not burned away through visualization, they may obstruct the Qi pathways. Sustaining the imagined flame for too long can make one restless and overheated. Once the Qi mechanism feels connected and flowing, begin circulating Qi.
To circulate Qi, set aside thoughts and let Shen rest quietly in the Spirit Chamber, the place where the spirit finds repose. Original Qi will then move through the whole body of its own accord. Qi is already present throughout the body, in every joint and pore; if you can guide it with intention, it is like a worthy minister instructing the people. How can you know that Qi is within the body? Take a bamboo tube about ten feet long, with its joints connected, seal one end, and blow into the other. The air will enter the tube. The human body is like this bamboo tube: when thought subsides, Original Qi spreads throughout the body. Once Qi fills the body, settle into quiet stillness. How to enter this state of stillness is explained in detail in the “Lower Origin Section.” Follow the practice carefully, and you will gain mastery.
◎Song of the Lower Origin
The way of cultivating the true is actually easy. The difficulty is that people keep forcing themselves and find it hard to let go. The “free and untroubled” state spoken of here means ease and freedom. Let the body settle into stillness, clear the spirit, and put an end to stray thoughts. When the Qi of the Upper, Middle, and Lower Three Origins flows together, one comes close to the path of becoming an immortal.
“Whether moving or still” refers to the Mysterious Pearl, a numinous pearl envisioned in internal alchemy practice. Visualize it in the Lower Origin, the region of the lower Dantian, about the size of a pellet, its light flickering as though it were moving and yet still. “Residing amid movement” means resting the mind in the lower Dantian, where the Sea of Qi gathers primordial energy. Let the breath move gently and slowly through this Sea of Qi, circling the Mysterious Pearl. When the breath is full, the pearl seems to abide between movement and stillness.
Next, channel the Qi of the Middle Origin into the Mysterious Pearl in the Lower Origin, so that primordial energy becomes settled. Once it is settled, external Qi cannot invade and internal Qi cannot disperse. The body and mind grow still, in harmony with Heaven and Earth, and life can endure for a long time. Even if Heaven and Earth were overturned, the practitioner would continue to live on naturally.
The Yellow Emperor once searched for the Mysterious Pearl in the Red River. Here, “Red River” refers to red blood. The Mysterious Pearl seems to be hidden within Qi; finding it allows life to arise and flourish. One must therefore attain “formlessness”—without attachment to particular forms—and be free of thought and worry. Only after the spirit has become still can the Mysterious Pearl be found naturally.
The key to understanding how to transcend the worldly realm and ascend is to remove contrivance and artifice. When contrivance is gone, life is preserved; when it remains, life is ruined. Only with no contrivance in the heart and a pure mind can one grasp the turning point between gain and loss. This is the principle behind it.
Afterword
Chonghezi said, “I began studying the Dao in my youth, and devoted myself to it even more as I grew older. I visited and explored every famous mountain in the land; even when climbing to dangerous heights, I did not dare to be afraid.”
Chonghezi said: “I began studying the Dao in my youth. As I grew older, my determination to seek the Dao grew stronger. I have visited nearly all the famous mountains in the world. I never feared the hardship of climbing heights or crossing dangerous paths; whenever I heard of an extraordinary sight, I would travel to see it, even if it lay a thousand miles away.
“In the year Yiwei, I came to Swallow Valley on Mount Qingcheng. It was deep and secluded, stretching for a hundred li, with pine boughs and wisteria vines screening the sky. By chance, I met a woodcutter and followed him into a stone cavern. A perfected person lived there, surnamed Li; I do not know where he came from. His hair fell to his waist, and his features were as cool and clear as ice and snow. I bowed to him twice, and he welcomed me warmly. After a long while, he asked where I had come from. I explained my longstanding wish to seek the Dao and asked to stay with him, follow him, and learn. Fortunately, he accepted me.
“After forty-three years, he suddenly taught me the Three Origins Method, a Daoist discipline of cultivation. Practicing according to its oral instructions can make daylight seem like night. After twelve years of cultivation, one can often ascend through the air at will. This method is wondrous beyond measure and cannot be mastered in just a few years. He took me in and instructed me, and fortunately allowed me to receive it. Once this method has been transmitted to a recipient, thirty-one years must pass before it can be transmitted again. If it is passed to someone unfit to receive it, that person will suffer evident calamity and punishment.
“Those who cultivate this Dao should gradually reduce their consumption of the Five Pungent Foods—such as scallions and garlic—and of stale, rank foods; they should not give them up all at once. After a year, the pathways of Qi will be full, and one will naturally stop eating. The key to cultivation is to dispel clever schemes and calculations from the heart. When a calculating mind is cut off, Qi comes of itself, and one can succeed without planning. I have practiced these methods myself, and every one has proved effective. I now provide annotations so that later generations will no longer be confused. Those of pure conduct who aspire to seek the Dao should carefully safeguard these secrets.”
Scroll 89: Section on the Sayings of the Various Perfected Ones
Scriptural Admonition
Anfei Gao said: “Violent, turbulent winds cannot destroy your pure nature; how could a raging gale unsettle your clear and honest heart? You should keep your mind empty and still, chant alone, and await the divine Qi with an open heart. Gather in your spirit and let all confused thoughts cease; abide in clarity and draw near to the utmost truth. Let worries and vexations never intrude upon the Mysterious Abode, the dwelling place of the inner heart or spirit; let grief and longing never disturb the Crimson Ford, the body’s fluids or a related site of Daoist cultivation.”
The Most High says: Those of outstanding talent are uniquely prone to indulging in wine. Its fierce, stagnant influence settles in the heart; how can it restore the mind to clarity and simplicity? One should let the mind and spirit grow still and peaceful, chant naturally, and wait with an open heart for the divine. Gather in your thoughts and cut off every distraction, allowing the mind to abide in a state of clarity and purity. Then sorrow and vexation will not invade the depths of the heart, and grief and worry will not unsettle the spirit.
The Most High says: Those of outstanding talent are uniquely prone to intoxication. The influence of wine brewed from fermenting grain clouds the mind and spirit and throws one’s nature into confusion. It destroys the Ten Good Deeds, as Buddhism calls them, and encourages the Ten Evils, allowing the proper functions of the senses and mind to fall into disuse and blockage.
The Celestial Worthy says: All living beings have long grown accustomed to confusion and delusion. Their thoughts are scattered, and they chase after things in the world around them, always letting go of one thing only to grasp at another, never pausing for an instant. They are like monkeys roaming through forests and marshes, leaping and running beyond restraint. The minds of ordinary people are the same: they race unchecked through the forest of the Five Desires—desire for sights, sounds, scents, tastes, and touch—and the marsh of the Six Faculties—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—and are difficult to control.
The Celestial Worthy also says: Human desires are hard to restrain, like a banner raised in the wind, forever tossing and turning. At times, people even plot to act deceitfully in order to win a reputation.
The Scripture on Settling the Will says: Once people acquire a physical body, it is stained by the Six Emotions—the desires and feelings that arise from contact with external things. When the Six Emotions stain the heart, its movements readily become impure and corrupted. People are deluded by all that lies before their eyes, yet cannot see what they lack. From this arise worldly affairs and all manner of karmic conditions, bringing sin and defilement that accumulate continually from one lifetime to the next. Thus beings cycle through the Three Realms of humans, heavens, and hells, drifting among the Five Destinies, the five realms of rebirth, trapped there for a long time without awakening. Their bodies suffer illness, their hearts are burdened with vexation, yet they cannot bring themselves into balance. Their thoughts and spirit run wild, their hearts are filled with fear, and their actions invariably bring sin upon them.
The Most High says: The Dao of Heaven benefits all things without harming them. The Sage acts, yet does not contend with others for victory. Thus those who contend in step with the times may prosper, while those who struggle against others are bound to perish. Therefore, even when possessing weapons, one does not array them for battle, for the essential point is not to contend.
People are generally unwilling to contend over ill omens or to suffer humiliation. The sage follows the Dao, works diligently, and does not compete with others. Thus, those who adapt to the times without contending can flourish; those who struggle against others will eventually perish. Even when armed, one does not form ranks, for the guiding principle is non-contention.
People are generally unwilling to contend over ill omens or to suffer humiliation. One who can bear what others are unwilling to bear has already done enough.
The Miaozhen Jing says: “If you see too much, your heart and spirit cannot remain at peace; if you hear too much, your Qi and Jing will be depleted; if you love and desire too intensely, your spirit and soul will scatter. Those who are always eager to pursue objects of desire should remain constantly vigilant; those who act for the sake of gain should always be on their guard. Those who form factions and make friends to bolster their own position are not truly faithful to the Dao.”
The scripture also says: “The greatest transgression is sexual excess, the greatest calamity is greed, and the greatest fault is exceeding one’s proper station. These three are all sources of disaster. In a lesser case, they bring about one’s own ruin; in a greater one, they bring misfortune upon the family.”
The Daoist scripture says: “Good and ill fortune, calamity and blessing, arrive unseen. The wealthy and powerful cannot avoid calamity simply by asking someone to dispel it, nor can the poor and lowly obtain prosperity and flourishing merely by wishing for them. Cultivate blessings and do good, and good responses will follow; do evil, and calamity will come.”
The Celestial Worthy says: “The workings of Qi cannot reach an extreme, and one’s allotted fate is difficult to escape entirely. The poor and lowly cannot obtain prosperity and flourishing merely by wishing for them. Cultivate blessings and do good, and good responses will follow; do evil, and calamity will come.”
The Celestial Worthy says: “The workings of Qi cannot reach an extreme, and one’s allotted fate cannot be exhausted. After death comes birth again; after darkness comes light. The workings of Heaven and Earth turn in cycles, like a revolving wheel. Human life, too, seems never to vanish entirely, like a shadow following its form; therefore, it is difficult to say that it comes to an end.”
The Scripture of the Wondrous Forest says: Sentient beings who revolve through birth and death because they act with intention and cling to life and death are like drifting clouds, shadows in the sky, echoes in a mountain valley, the moon in water, images in a mirror, illusory flames in rising heat, and flashes of fire in lightning. They seem to exist, yet are difficult to grasp. They are also like a deaf person hearing sounds, a blind person seeing things, a mute person speaking, a crane with two heads, a chicken with three legs, hair on a turtle, and horns on a rabbit—all impossible things. Because of ignorance, sentient beings cling and crave, giving rise to desire and prejudice; this is also the very root of birth and death. Ultimately, all of this is empty and cannot be put into words, like trying to find a lamp after its flame has gone out. The root of birth and death is the same. The things of birth and death are also like a fierce fire or a venomous snake: one must not go near them.
The Celestial Worthy told the steadfast cultivator of the true Way: If someone clings to the real existence of things, wishing to leave the defiled realm—the world filled with affliction—and seek the bliss of the realm of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), abandoning the body of a sentient being to pursue the forms of what is called the true Way, wishing to cut off afflictions and enter Wuwei (non-action, a state of neither contriving nor forcing), and hoping to escape every kind of prejudice in order to attain extinction, I call this person one who holds a “great false view.” This is like a foolish person who fears the earth and tries to flee from it: wherever they go, they remain on the earth. Sentient beings are the same. They fear the body subject to birth and death and wish to abandon existence in the Three Realms—the Desire Realm, Form Realm, and Formless Realm. They despise the body they have received, yet still cannot escape birth and death. Such people have not truly understood the Way, but single-mindedly pursue the forms of the true Way. How pitiable.
The true nature of the Way is uncontrived; it neither arises nor ceases. It cannot be called existent or nonexistent; it is neither eternal and unchanging nor utterly extinguished. It is neither large nor small, and belongs to neither form nor thought. To realize this is called the correct practice of cultivating the true Way.
The Celestial Worthy again told the steadfast cultivator of the true Way: The nature of the Way that beings in this world should realize is likewise uncontrived; it neither arises nor ceases; it is neither existent nor nonexistent, neither eternal nor extinguished, neither large nor small, and belongs to neither form nor thought. To realize the Way in this manner is called the correct practice of cultivating the true Way.
Gaoxuan Perfected One said again to the Worthy Adept Shengxing: “Living beings in the world are deeply veiled by ignorance—the darkness that obscures wisdom. The true Dao is within them, yet they cannot see it. They are like fools who run about searching for emptiness and form, unaware that ‘form is emptiness’: though things have appearances, their essence has no fixed nature. People in the world are the same. Their thoughts race outward in search of the true Dao, unaware that their own body and mind are themselves the true Dao.
“After auspicious signs have descended, accumulating one thousand good deeds can lead to becoming a divine perfected being in a future life; two thousand, a sacred perfected immortal officer; three thousand, a sacred perfected immortal clerk; four thousand, a teacher under Heaven and a sacred perfected immortal ruler; five thousand, a master among sacred perfected immortals; six thousand, a minister among sacred perfected immortals; seven thousand, a prince among sacred perfected immortals; eight thousand, an emperor among sacred perfected immortals; nine thousand, one of the Five Emperors of Primordial Beginning; and a full ten thousand good deeds, the Supreme Jade Emperor.”
The Primordial Lady said: “The foundation of ten thousand good deeds also lies in the three kinds of action: bodily conduct, speech, and thought. By extending the ten kinds of good deed step by step, one can accumulate ten thousand. Good deeds can lengthen one’s life; evil deeds can shorten it. Spirits oversee the rewarding of good and the punishing of evil, each in its appointed role. The workings of cause and effect are never mistaken, even by the slightest degree. The foundation of long life is nothing other than good deeds.
“To nourish the spirit with focused attention, keeping external things from disturbing it, is called ‘clarity.’ To gather the spirit and harmonize the breath, keeping body and mind settled without forcing them, is called ‘stillness.’ Let go of distracting thoughts and settle the will; cultivate the body and calm the spirit; cherish the breath and preserve Jing (essence). Set aside all deliberation, quiet the mind, contemplate inwardly, and observe yourself. In this way, body and spirit can become one. When body and spirit are united, one is close to attaining the Dao.
“The Dao says: If ordinary people bring me harm, I should answer with blessing and goodness. Thus blessings often arrive, while the harmful force they brought is turned back toward them. This is how a cultivator of the Dao conducts himself.
“Xu Laile asked, ‘What does it mean to forget everything?’ Gaoxuan Perfected One replied, ‘All ordinary people originate from the undifferentiated primordial breath…’”
The Dao says: When someone treats me with harm, I should repay them with blessings and De. Thus blessings often come, while the harmful Qi eventually returns to the one who sent it. This is how those who cultivate the Dao conduct themselves.
Xu Laile asked, “What does ‘forgetting both’ mean?” Perfected Gao Xuan replied, “From the moment ordinary people first arise amid the mingled breaths of Heaven and Earth, they give rise to delusion and become attached to various things through desire. Even diligent cultivation cannot keep them from becoming obstructed. They must therefore develop meditative stillness and remove their attachments to things. Yet even after those attachments have been cleared away, they may still become attached to ‘emptiness.’ Letting go of attachment to both ‘being’ and ‘emptiness’ is called ‘forgetting both.’ It is also the first sign of entering the realm of right contemplation.”
The Jing of the Covenant and Awe says: The Dao is everywhere. In a teacher, the teacher is the Dao; in scripture, scripture is the Dao. The Dao does not exist apart from things themselves.
The Jing of the Mysterious Treasure says: Correct what is deviant and bring everything back to balance; let things turn back from their downstream course and return to their source. The source is the Dao. The Dao has no form, and can be approached only by using words and images as a guiding path. As for the Dao’s function of stillness and emptiness, that function has no substance of its own.
The Jing of the Three Sovereigns says: Nothing in the world remains constant. What is truly firm and enduring? So one should promptly turn away from such things and seek the natural Dao, thereby liberating oneself. It also says: Nothing among the myriad things remains constant; whatever has taken form cannot remain whole for long.
The sun, moon, and stars shine forever, and Heaven and Earth are always radiant.
The Scripture of Dark Revelations of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi says: “The Dao cannot be transmitted directly through words. Yet, so that those who seek to learn may pass it on to one another, it can be recorded in writing, giving people the opportunity to hear of it. Those who record things well must understand the words used to describe them; those who express themselves well must understand their meaning. When the meaning is understood, the Dao too can be grasped.
At the beginning of the creation of Heaven and Earth, people should know that all things are connected. When entering the realm of emptiness, they should also understand that truth exists within it. Thus, by establishing principles according to the original source of things, one can understand them from beginning to end.
Therefore, when a sage sees written characters, they know that the source to which those characters point originally needs no writing. When they hear words, they know that those words arise from what cannot be spoken. Through written characters, they understand words; through words, they grasp meaning. By grasping meaning, they can know the Dao. Having known the Dao, they also know that it can be transmitted through writing. Thus, the perfected person comprehends the workings of things with a spirit-like mind, and such understanding deserves respect; the sage teaches by making themself an example, and such teaching deserves to be treasured.”
The Most High, an honorific title for the supreme deity in Daoism, told the Queen Mother: Human beings are born by receiving the Qi of Heaven and Earth. When Qi enters the body, it is called Jing (essence); when Jing joins with Jing, it is called “numinous power”; when numinous power undergoes change, it is called Shen (spirit); and the transformations of Shen are called “soul.” When the soul moves about, it is called “awareness”; when it goes in and out, it is called “corporeal soul.” What governs Jing and the corporeal soul is called “heart.” When the heart follows something, “feeling” arises; when feeling has something to which it belongs, “intention” takes shape; when intention is put into action, it becomes “resolve”; when resolve retains something in memory, it is “thought”; when thought reflects and reaches toward distant aims, it is “deliberation”; and when deliberation is used to handle affairs, it is “wisdom.” Wisdom means fully understanding and integrating all these levels.
A person’s “nature” is still, while their Qi is active. When activity and stillness become one, and inner and outer are harmonious and unobstructed, who—apart from one who has attained the state of the perfected person—can settle the heart in the wisdom that handles affairs in this way?
“Art” is concealed in the heart and responds as circumstances change; “law” is established outwardly to accord with the times and govern the people. When the people use a method without knowing how it has been arranged, this is “art.” When commands are publicly issued so that the people know and follow them, this is “law.” Art can transform the myriad things, causing them to appear in different forms; it guides and transforms the people without revealing its traces. Thus Heaven takes Qi as its numinous power, and a ruler takes art as his divine power.
The Scripture on Contemplating the Body through Fourfold Wisdom says: The key to cultivating the Dao is to act in accordance with profound principles and build up sufficient good deeds within; only then can one enter the realm of the Great Dao. If you cannot do this yourself, you merely toil amid worldly pursuits, and will not thereby prolong your life. The Dao is within you and does not depend on others. You must be loving, kind, generous, and patient. Only by practicing these four qualities can you be said to be approaching the Dao.
The Scripture of Lord Lao’s Precepts says that evil people are formed in the womb from Jing and Qi that have grown thin and depleted. Their bodies resemble straw dogs; their souls are feeble, while corpse poison fills their bellies. They look human on the outside but inwardly resemble worms and jackals. Jealous and malicious by nature, they often harm others in secret. They undo what has already been accomplished and shout loudly when they speak. They regard only themselves as precious as jade and see others as lowly as dirt. Outwardly, they blame ghosts and spirits for their offenses, thinking themselves clever, yet they give no thought to the calamities they are about to bring upon themselves.
Long ago, a man who gave no thought to earning his living devoted himself to theft. He broke into a minister’s home. At night, he took the shape of a dog and came to the minister’s house just as the minister was undertaking extensive works of merit. Lord Lao saw the thief in dog form and rebuked him, making him remain a dog forever and carry enormous stones for the minister until they were piled into a mountain.
The Scripture of Alliance and Authority says: Sexual misconduct that crosses proper bounds; forcing or abducting someone else’s partner; disrupting the proper relations of Yin and Yang; violating the ties among relatives, whether in public or private life; committing incest or adultery; and engaging sexually with strange beings or demons—all are evil deeds.
The Scripture of Original Conduct says: Long ago, a king named Yuanqing was consumed by lust. Later, when the cycle of catastrophe came to an end, he was conceived in the womb of a woman of the Hong family. Because Heaven saw that in his previous life he had been greedy for women, it caused him to be reborn as a woman, thereby continuing the desire he had indulged in before.
The Taiping Jing says: What is “speaking too much”? Those who bring great calamity upon themselves with a single sentence are the highest kind of excessive talker; those who invite humiliation with a single sentence are the middle kind; and those who land themselves in trouble with a single sentence are the lowest kind. Sages of the past and present have left behind many words, spread throughout Heaven and Earth, yet still often felt they had not said enough. For this reason, calamities and harms have never ceased. Later sages repeated and elaborated on their teachings, making them standards for the world, and people did not tire of hearing them. Even words that can dispel harm always seem insufficient. So beneficial speech need not be limited, while harmful words should not be spoken even once. Before speaking, sages consider their words with care: the understanding of the wise takes shape as scripture, left to the world as a standard; fools speak carelessly and bring calamity upon themselves, harming their own person.
The Zhengao says: When countless thoughts tangle in the heart, they damage the spirit and throw the body’s cold and heat out of balance. One frets over official affairs and lives amid turmoil, speaking of good and ill fortune while becoming caught up in struggles over gain and loss. Burdened by worry and confusion, even someone sincere in seeking the Dao will find it hard to remain steadfast and single-minded. It is rarely heard that a person who possesses Daoist arts but does not practice them, or holds a treasure but does not use it, can expect to stay young of their own accord.
To hold an official post without being burdened by its affairs, to remain calm and clear and cultivate oneself inwardly, to keep the surrounding turmoil from disturbing the spirit, and to set aside the pursuit of fame and profit: this is the cultivation appropriate for a Daoist serving in office.
The Scripture of Central Clarity says: “Never sell my Daoist teachings in order to gain wealth, pass them on to unsuitable people, or shut them away and cut off their transmission. Transmitting my teachings brings them to flourish; blocking or concealing them will surely bring calamity from Heaven, even if you practice alone. In transmitting my Daoist teachings, you should take Heaven and Earth, the rivers, and the Huai and the seas as your models. If you model yourself on Heaven and Earth, what among the myriad things cannot grow, and what cannot be brought to completion? If you model yourself on the rivers, the Huai, and the seas, where do flowing waters come to a halt, and what river course cannot be traversed?” Here, Heaven and Earth nurturing the myriad things and rivers flowing without cease serve as images for transmitting the Dao widely and without obstruction.
The Scripture of the Western Ascension says: “Desire is the root of calamity; Qi (vital energy) is the source of Heaven and Earth. People neither understand the root of desire nor recognize the source of Qi, so the sages merge themselves with Qi in order to nourish the body.” Here, “Qi” refers to the fundamental force that Daoism regards as forming all things in Heaven and Earth and sustaining life.
The Treatise on Guarding the Body and Preserving Life through the Cavern Spirit says: “The Yellow Emperor said, ‘For sages who preserve life, the body and mind are of foremost importance. What could affect the body and mind more than good and evil? Good and evil arise from the mind. The mind’s workings follow no fixed rule…’”
Clinging to objects means the mind reaching outward to pursue and grasp them. The objects being pursued are called “states,” and the pursuing subject is called “mind.” Thus, nothing surpasses thoughts of the mind as the cause of all things. When a thought arises in the mind, it is called “action”; the actions it gives rise to express good and evil. Indulging desire is evil; bringing craving to rest is good. Good can help ordinary people cultivate themselves and transcend the mundane world. Evil harms De and leaves people tainted by impure habits.
The sage understands that although the mind has no form, it can act, while although the body has form, it cannot act on its own. Without relying on the body, the mind cannot manifest or function; without relying on the people and affairs around it, the body can scarcely live and act. Thus body and mind differ in form, yet their principles accord with one another. Though good deeds may be many, they ultimately lead in the same direction. Body and mind work together, and movement and stillness harmonize with each other. The body cannot act by itself; it must be directed by the mind.
If the mind is not pure, it will ceaselessly cling to things outside itself. The actions borne and accumulated by the body will then have no end, and its activity will never cease. The mind is therefore the foundation of ordinary people and sages, while the body is where suffering and pleasure gather. The sage knows that calamity begins in the mind and that faults must come from oneself. So the sage purifies the mind to dispel calamity and lessens the faults within the will. Ordinary people are different: they indulge their desires without knowing that desire begins in the mind; they are arrogant and extravagant without knowing that arrogance comes from themselves. They let their emotions, delusions, and violent impulses run wild, heedless of their own safety. Calamity arises from this, yet they fail to recognize the signs of danger and ruin, going about their daily affairs in ignorance. Thus the wise sage takes pity on the foolish and offers instruction.
Scroll 97: Key Sections on the Teachings
Linked Pearls (sixty-five pieces in all)
When the spirit is settled, the mind is calm; when the mind is calm, the body can be preserved. When the spirit is agitated, the mind becomes unsettled; when the mind is unsettled, the body is harmed. To preserve the body, one must first nourish the spirit. So nourish the spirit through serenity and calm, and the inner self will naturally become settled. Let the mind rest in purity and stillness, and it will not be lured by external things.
The seven apertures—the two ears, two eyes, two nostrils, and mouth—are gateways through which the spirit enters and leaves. The will and the breath are …
The seven apertures of the human body—the ears, eyes, mouth, nose, and other gateways through which we perceive the world—are windows through which the spirit enters and leaves. One’s resolve and vital energy are signs of the activity of the Five Viscera. The ears and eyes are easily enticed by sounds and colors; the nose and mouth delight in fragrance and fine flavors; the body, too, craves ease and comfort. When desires are indulged without restraint, the spirit scatters and cannot remain focused. When one’s resolve is held captive by gains and losses, the Five Viscera are thrown into turmoil. Few people can become entangled in ceaseless outward appetites, feel inwardly obstructed, sink into indulgence, and become caught up in disputes over right and wrong without ultimately damaging their De (Virtue/Power) and impairing their life.
People are born by receiving Qi (vital energy) from Heaven and Earth, and so inevitably have feelings and an inborn nature. When the nature is stirred, feelings arise; when feelings crave comfort, desires take shape. Feelings spring from the nature, yet may run counter to it. Desires arise from feelings, yet may in turn harm them. Feelings can damage the nature, and the nature can restrain feelings, just as smoke and fire, or ice and water, are related. Smoke arises from fire, yet can obscure its flames; ice forms from water, yet can block its flow. Thus, when there is little smoke, the fire burns brightly; when ice melts, the water flows freely. When a person’s nature is upright, desires subside; when desires grow excessive, the nature is extinguished. The wise person reduces the burden of excessive feelings and restrains desire in order to preserve the nature. Food need only satisfy hunger and replenish strength; clothing need only cover the body and ward off cold. One does not let splendid external things confuse the nature, nor allow grief and joy to disturb the spirit. To be content with enough and establish oneself where there is no harm: this is the way to preserve one’s nature.
Until a sea mussel is opened, its pearl cannot be seen; until bamboo is made into a flute, it cannot sound with music like the phoenix’s cry. Until one’s dispositions are tempered, the inner Shen (spirit) cannot emerge. This is like water’s nature hidden within metal and fire concealed in wood: refining metal draws out mercury, and drilling wood produces fire. Only by studying diligently and tempering one’s nature can a person’s abilities and intelligence come to light.
Bamboo poles from the land of Wu are strong in substance, but without arrow feathers they are not considered fine arrows. Swords from the land of Yue may be sharp, but unless they are quenched and honed, they cannot attain their full sharpness. People are born with innate wisdom, yet must keep learning to fulfill it. Those who do not learn are like people whose minds have lost hearing and sight, unable to distinguish what is near from what is far. One should seek guidance from a clear-sighted teacher and learn how to quiet the mind and spirit. Such guidance is needed because one’s nature has been obscured.
Yi Qiu was the finest chess player in the land. Yet while he was absorbed in a game, someone happened to pass by playing a sheng. He let his attention wander for a moment to listen, and lost the game. His skill had not suddenly declined; his mind had simply grown clouded and been disturbed by the sound of the sheng.
Li Shou was the most accomplished calculator in the world. When a wild goose flew past, crying out, he drew his bow to shoot it. Just as the bow was drawn and the arrow was about to be released, someone asked him how to calculate “three and five,” and he could not answer. The calculation was not difficult; his mind and spirit had simply become confused at once, distracted by the wild goose.
Yi Qiu’s chess and Li Shou’s calculations were both profound and well practiced, without flaw. But once they turned their attention to the sheng or the wild goose, their play went wrong and their calculations fell into disarray. This shows that the will was not focused, and the mind’s thoughts had been drawn away by external things.
A blind person has no sight, yet can discern sounds keenly through the ears because of focused listening. A turtle has no ears, yet can observe things outside itself through its eyes because of focused looking. Though the blind person and the turtle each have a physical limitation, they can hear with acuity and see clearly.
Source text: Godners/DaoZang; Licence: Apache-2.0 · Report an error / feedback