《修真九要》

Cultivating so as to realize the True is the most important matter under Heaven, and also the most difficult. Because it is at once so weighty and so arduous, the ancients all said that it is something rarely met with in the world. Unless one deeply understands the creative transformations of Heaven and Earth and thoroughly comprehends the changes of Yin-Yang, and unless one also possesses an enduring and steadfast resolve and practices step by step in proper sequence, it cannot be accomplished.

Those who study the Dao (the Way) in later ages often fail to clarify what cultivation actually is. Before they have properly learned the principles, they wish to attain the Dao; before they have learned how to be cultivators of the Dao, they wish to become immortals. No wonder those who cultivate the Dao are as numerous as the hairs on an ox, while those who truly attain the Dao are as rare as the horn of a qilin.

From childhood I revered the Dao, yet I never met anyone who truly understood it. I therefore could not tell right from wrong; my studies were confused and disordered, and I nearly came to harm. Fortunately I met my teacher, the Elder of Kangu, and only then did I gain a modest grasp of the essentials of the Dao. I came to understand my former errors, and also to see that most cultivators in the world labor under deviations. Following my teacher’s intention, I therefore distilled the guiding principles of cultivating the True and condensed them into nine points, called the Nine Essentials of Cultivating the True. These methods proceed from the shallow to the deep and from the lower to the higher; they are a ladder raised for beginners. Whether one studies the Dao or cultivates the Dao, so long as one advances step by step according to these nine points, one will in the end enter into a deep understanding and gain something of one’s own, and will also be able to distinguish muddled teachers from clear-sighted ones, and deviant ways from the correct Dao. Even if one cannot complete this rare great work of cultivation in the world, one will at least know that it truly has a sequence that can be followed, and will not idle away the years and pass a lifetime in vain.

On the ninth day of the Chrysanthemum Month (the ninth month of the lunar calendar) of the wuwu year, the third year of the Jiaqing reign of the Qing (1798), Liu Yiming—Wuyuanzi, the Simple and Unadorned Wanderer of Mount Qiyun—wrote this preface himself in the Nest of Ease.

Alas! Life in this world is like a dream, an illusion, or a bubble of foam; a hundred years slip by in the blink of an eye. Once death comes, even mountains of gold and silver cannot buy back one’s life, and filial children and grandchildren cannot bear one’s sorrows in one’s place. If one does not make preparations in good time, panic and helplessness will set in when the moment arrives. King Yama shows no mercy. Once a person loses this human body, they may sink for a long time into a realm of suffering.

Those who aspire to cultivate the Dao (the Way) must quickly see through and let go of worldly attachments—this crucial threshold—before they can enter the path that leads to true attainment. If entanglements with the dusty world never cease, yet one vainly hopes to realize the Dao, then even if the body has left the household, the heart still clings to secular life, and one’s words, deeds, and daily worries all revolve around human feelings and worldly affairs. In this way, not only is it hard to realize the Dao; one cannot even truly come to hear the Dao. What meaning, then, does leaving home have? From ancient times to the present, many seekers of the Dao have walked this same old path. Thus those who study the Dao are as numerous as the hairs on an ox, while those who truly penetrate the Great Dao are as rare as the qilin.

The Wuzhen—the Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) classic Wuzhen pian—says: “I ask you: if piled gold rose as high as Mount Tai, could it buy exemption from impermanent death?” The Song of Realizing the Dao says: “First set down all worldly affairs, then carefully investigate the principle.” These words mean that worldly matters are illusory, while the matter of nature and life (xingming) is what is most real. To recognize the real, one must first abandon the false. If one takes illusory things as real, the mind is enslaved by them. Once one matter is vain, other matters tend to become vain as well, and a person drifts ever farther from the Great Dao. This is not what someone who cherishes nature and life ought to do. If one does not cherish nature and life, merely talking emptily without real practice and idling away the years until old age and death, what benefit is there?

In former times, Ancestor Lü (Lü Dongbin), because of a dream, at once laid down every kind of anxious thought; Ancestor Ma (a patriarch in Daoist legend), because he awakened to death, attained the Dao more quickly. Both first saw through worldly affairs and only then cultivated the true Dao, and so they realized the Dao more readily than others. Moreover, leaving home to cultivate is originally done because one has seen through the world. If one has not yet seen through it and forces oneself to leave home, one has only the name of leaving home and not its substance. Intending to ascend to heaven, one instead falls—is this not effort spent in vain?

I hope that those who seek the Dao, whether living at home or having left home, if they wish to take up the urgent great matter of nature and life that concerns them personally, will first examine worldly affairs with care and observe them again and again, until they feel that there is truly no savor in them. Only then will they understand that every attachment ultimately returns to emptiness and illusion, while the matter of nature and life is the weightiest of all. From that point they thoroughly set down every illusory affair outside the self, seek teachers and visit companions with their feet planted on solid ground, advance with courageous diligence, and do not spare even their own bodies for the sake of the Dao. In this way they will naturally move Heaven by utmost sincerity, receive the hidden support of the patriarchs, and in the end be guided by a True Person.

The Second Essential: Accumulating De and Cultivation

The Wuzhen (the Daoist classic of Neidan [internal alchemy], the Wuzhen pian) says: “If one does not cultivate and accumulate hidden virtue, all kinds of demonic obstacles will constantly arise to hinder cultivation of the Dao (the Way).” From this it is clear that accumulating De (Virtue/Power) and doing good are an important discipline for those who cultivate the Dao. To speak of the Dao and De as separate is heterodox doctrine and a deviant side path, a very great error. The sages of antiquity first had to understand the principles, and the worthies first had to accumulate virtuous conduct; there has never been anyone who became a sage without understanding the Dao, nor anyone who became a worthy without accumulating De. One who wishes to become a sage must first learn from the worthies; one who wishes to cultivate the great Dao must likewise first accumulate De. Only when the Dao and De complement each other and assist one another within and without can the cultivation of sages and worthies be accomplished. The Dao is a matter of cultivating oneself; De is a matter of benefiting others. Cultivation of the Dao has a time of completion, but the accumulation of De has no end. From ancient times to the present, immortals, buddhas, and holy beings, even after attaining the Dao, must still harmonize their light and mingle with the dust (restrain their sharpness and blend into the ordinary world), continuing to accumulate merit and deeds until merit and virtue are complete, and only then do they receive the summons of Heaven’s mandate.

Moreover, the great Dao of the Golden Elixir (Jindan)—the Daoist path of Neidan cultivation—is the object of the jealousy of ghosts and spirits. Only those of profound loyalty and filial piety may come to know it, and only those of lofty worthiness and De are fit to receive its transmission. Even if it is forced upon an unsuitable person, once that person knows it the ghosts and spirits will be displeased, and may even secretly send down calamity and shorten one’s lifespan. This brings no benefit and is instead harmful. After I received instruction from the Immortal of Kanggu, I constantly kept an impartial heart, and whenever I met people of aspiration I wished to guide them. Sometimes I revealed a slight hint and then observed their conduct; before long they grew self-satisfied and complacent, unable to enter deeply into study and cultivation, and in the end became daily more slack and lost their resolve. Their greed and vexation were even greater than those of ordinary people. The several people I met, one after another, were all like this. Alas, such people were probably without virtue among their ancestors, and they themselves lacked good deeds, so they began in diligence and later grew slack, lost the correct path, and could not be turned back. I too, because I was not careful enough and spoke to unsuitable people, repeatedly encountered demonic obstacles. Fortunately no great disaster came of it, and the true secret methods were not stolen away. Taught by these lessons, I thereafter spoke with caution and dared not lightly reveal the knacks of cultivating the Dao, waiting until I met people of virtuous conduct and real responsibility before teaching all that I knew.

Those in the world who study the Dao, having barely entered the gate, regard becoming an immortal as an extremely easy matter and go about everywhere cheating people of their money, without the least scruple. They never consider that every thread and every grain is won by the hard toil of people in every quarter, and that every mouthful of food and drink likewise embodies the labor of living beings. Some deceive others with empty talk of principles, some gather wealth under the pretext of the methods of the Dao, and still others cheat people with talk of turning stone into gold and the like; their devices are too many to count. In time they will owe so great a debt that one cannot know how they will repay it. The ancients said, “The two horns on the head may or may not be there, but the tail behind is surely growing.” They were surely speaking of people of this kind.

Those who aspire to cultivate the Dao must value virtuous conduct, hold fast to their own integrity, and not act in confusion so as to spoil their future path. What is accumulating De? Caring for the elderly and pitying the poor, looking after orphans and widows, giving medicine and offering tea, repairing bridges and paving roads, aiding those in danger and relieving those in hardship, slighting wealth and valuing righteousness, and doing one’s utmost to help others—all of these are accumulating De. What is cultivation? Taking hardship upon oneself so that others may benefit, and being diligent in labor; bestowing kindness without seeking return, harboring resentment without making enemies, having merit without boasting of it, meeting difficulty without fear, and doing what accords with righteousness when one sees it—all of these are cultivation.

If one can accumulate De and establish conduct, and the longer the time the more firmly one persists, then virtuous conduct can move ghosts and spirits to submission and raise one’s character above that of ordinary people. A truly discerning person of high attainment sees this at a glance; only such a person has hope of cultivating the great Dao. Conversely, if one accumulates not a single act of De and performs not a single good deed, yet vainly dreams of attaining the Dao, and on happening to meet a person of high attainment conceals one’s faults and only displays one’s strengths, thinking one can deceive others, one does not know that others see one as clearly as if they saw into one’s heart.

There is yet another kind of person who keeps to no proper station and does every sort of evil: taverns in the morning and brothels at night; morality on the lips, while the heart is like that of Dao Zhi (the great bandit of ancient legend), harming others to benefit themselves in endlessly varied ways. They never examine themselves, but instead complain that they have no blessings and no opportunity, and go on to slander the elixir scriptures (Danjing), saying they are nothing but deceitful words. Such people are destined to fall into hell and sink into another order of being. They can scarcely manage even to be human—how dare they vainly hope to become immortals?

Alas, virtuous conduct is the duty a person ought to fulfill in the world, while the Dao is a matter of transmission by a master of the Jing (scripture/classic) and of cultivation toward immortality. To wish to cultivate the Dao without accumulating De is to fail even at the duty of being human—how then could one accomplish the immortal Dao? Should one not think three times about this?

The Shuogua zhuan, a chapter of the Yijing (Classic of Changes), says: “Only by exhaustively investigating the principles of things and fully knowing one’s innate nature can one reach the Mandate of Heaven.” From this it is clear that the learning by which one cultivates innate nature and awakens to life turns on applying the mind to the thorough investigation of principles and on distinguishing right from wrong. Only when principle has been studied through to the end can one preserve one’s nature, cultivate life, and enter the highest realm of the real. If understanding remains vague, the cultivation of nature and life will be hard to accomplish, and one may in the end pass a lifetime in vain.

Today some who study the Dao (the Way) leave the household, study the Dao, and cultivate in a muddled fashion. If they are so confused while alive, how can they be lucid and clear at the point of death? The cultivation of nature and life is of such importance—how can one treat it so carelessly? The Way of the Golden Elixir (Jindan) embraces the principles by which Heaven and Earth revolve, and it also seeks to seize the pivot of creative transformation. It is exceedingly exalted and wondrous, and not easy to understand. If a student of the Dao does not clarify what nature and life are, nor discern the meaning of the patriarchs’ words, but hopes merely to hear a phrase or two and then vainly imagines attaining the Dao—idling through the day and sleeping peacefully at night, taking the elixir scriptures for useless talk and the books of the various masters for deceiving speech—then that student abandons the root to chase the branches.

Those who falsely claim to possess the Dao lead error with error; those who vainly hope to realize the true lure blindness with blindness.

Even one or two who sincerely incline toward the Dao often do no more than skim the texts. Where is the true effort of thinking and of pursuing principle? The ancients said: “If one sought the true meaning only on paper, Daluo immortals would be everywhere.” These words were aimed at people unwilling to seek a teacher; they do not mean that the elixir scriptures and the books of the various masters are of no use at all.

Later people, failing to understand the ancients’ intent, took this saying as their warrant and set the scriptures aside. This is a great mistake.

Not a word or a sentence left by the immortals and perfected ones was spoken casually; profound meaning is often held within them. They expended every care to open a path for later generations and to leave those who cultivate the Dao a basis for telling the direction. To turn about and slander these words—how could such an offense be treated lightly?

The teachings of later eminent persons and worthies likewise, for the most part, still remain within the scope of the ancients, and do not necessarily truly surpass them. If the eminent people of today do not deceive students, one may know that the immortals and perfected ones of antiquity would not mislead later generations either.

I urge those who aspire to the Dao to read the ancients’ discussions with care and to inquire into them again and again; then to seek instruction from a teacher, to understand thoroughly the principles of what comes before and what follows, and to dispel doubt. Only then may one cultivate on that basis. One must not presume on one’s own cleverness, trust only one’s own views, and shut others out; nor should one listen only to what bystanders say and let others lead one astray.

Even if one cannot read, one should still discern true principle in everyday sayings, for the great Dao is hidden in ordinary speech as well; people have simply not thought deeply. Sayings such as “there is no human form,” “there is a secret knack,” “follow the square and accord with the round,” “adapt as circumstances change,” “sift gold from sand,” “something is born from nothing,” “one knows only oneself and not others,” “calling at three households is not as good as keeping to one,” “if courtesy places one below others, there will surely be something gained,” and “one knows only the first point and not the second” may all disclose principles worth grasping. Take one or two of them as a prompt, and ponder them morning and evening. Even if one cannot yet understand the great Dao, one can gradually increase one’s insight and draw nearer to principle, and will not spend one’s time in vain.

Investigating principle is something anyone can do, whether worthy or foolish. If one perseveres, understanding will naturally arise with time. Yet what one personally realizes may be only one’s own bias, and one must not rashly cultivate on the strength of it.

After meeting an enlightened teacher, one must pursue the matter clearly from beginning to end, until one truly understands, one’s judgment is certain, and one’s application is skilled. Only then will one avoid error.

Each stage of cultivation has its fine distinctions. What comes before and after, Yin-Yang, substance and function, and deliberate action together with Wuwei (non-action) must all be given their due. For instance, some know the “Primordial Pass” (Yuanguan, a term in Neidan, or internal alchemy, for a crucial aperture), yet do not understand when the medicine is generated; they know that the medicine is generated, yet do not understand whether the firing is early or late; they know the forming of the elixir, yet do not understand the taking of the elixir; they know the forming of the embryo, yet do not understand emergence from the embryo; they understand cooking and refining with civil fire, yet not forging and tempering with martial fire, or the reverse; they understand yang fire, yet not the yin response; they understand advancing the fire, yet not stopping at the proper time; they understand warm nurturing, yet not when to increase or decrease. Miss by a single thread, and the result may lie a thousand miles away, so that the true is never realized.

Moreover, Yin and Yang are distinguished as inner and outer, and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) likewise differ as true and false. The cultivation of nature and life is divided into different stages; what is prior to Heaven and what is posterior to Heaven are not the same, and within them there are further levels of the true, the false, and the mutual containment of true and false. If these cruxes are not studied through, cultivation will be hard to carry out; if they are not clearly distinguished, practice will not succeed.

Lü Dongbin (Patriarch Lü) refined the elixir three times and still did not succeed; only later, when he obtained Master Cui’s Ruyao jing (Mirror for Compounding the Medicine), did he complete his cultivation. Ziqing (Bai Yuchan) once met with the mishap of wind and thunder at midnight, and the matter was settled only after he cultivated again. If even these two outstanding figures among the immortals could meet with the unexpected because of one point they did not understand, how much more so others? Those who study the Dao ought to ponder this again and again.

Seeking a true teacher is the fourth essential of cultivation. The ancient immortals said, “Even a guide, if unclear on a single point, may bring on some unexpected harm—how much more so anyone else?” Those who study the Dao (the Way) must ponder this again and again.

The ancient immortals also said, “Without a teacher’s instruction, a person does not know where the true road lies.” The Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality) likewise says, “Even if your intelligence surpasses that of Yan Hui and Min Ziqian, do not force yourself to guess if you have not met a true teacher.” These words are indeed sound. The learning of cultivating nature and life (xingming)—what Daoism calls the refining of body and mind and the recognition of the original source of life—must be received through a teacher’s lineage; it cannot rest on private guesswork. Daoguang once awakened suddenly and understood the principle of perfect penetration (yuantong), yet he knew that this was still not cultivation of a higher order. Only later, when he met Xinglin, did he accomplish the Great Dao. Although Shangyang had received the oral formula of yuandu (“following the Superintendent”), he dared not grow complacent, and still went to pay his respects at Qingcheng in order to master more fully the phases of the fire (huohou). Zhang Sanfeng practiced austerities on Mount Song for more than ten years and gained nothing; only afterward, when he was granted the guidance of the two immortals Zheng and Lü, did he understand the great matter of cultivating the Dao. Even the minor arts of the world depend on a teacher’s transmission. How, then, could a matter as great as the cultivation of nature and life be understood without a teacher?

The Dao of nature and life is spoken of as a way that takes up Yin-Yang and puts it to use, alters the creative transformations of nature, transmutes birth and death, and turns the mechanism of Qi (vital energy)—a way able to move ahead of Heaven’s seasons, so that even Heaven and Earth cannot go against it. Ghosts and spirits cannot fathom it, nor can yarrow stalks and tortoise shells divine it. One who obtains it may swiftly join the ranks of the sages and go straight to the other shore. It is therefore the foremost great matter under Heaven, and also the most difficult; without a sagely teacher’s instruction, given mouth to ear and face to face, how could anyone know it? The “other shore” here means the realm in which one transcends the afflictions of birth and death.

Yet the heterodox paths number three thousand six hundred, and elixir methods come in seventy-two grades as well. Deviant methods constantly injure the correct Dao, and false arts constantly pass themselves off as the true teaching. Who is a teacher that leads others astray, and who is a teacher of genuine understanding, is hard to tell. Still, there is a way to distinguish them. A truly accomplished person keeps to his own integrity. He does not drift with the current, does not cling to power and influence, does not form cliques for private ends, does not covet fame or profit, does not rely on talent and cleverness to deceive others, and does not affect strange behavior. What he says and what he does are of benefit to the moral life of the age and to the teachings of Daoism. Desires such as greed, anger, delusion, and attachment seldom remain in him, and attitudes such as partiality and self-clinging have already dissolved. His conduct is pure and lofty, his mind open and free, beyond what ordinary people can reach. At times he will test those who seek the Dao, tempering them again and again and distinguishing the true from the false; only after he has confirmed that the other is sincere and without flaw does he reveal the first signs of cultivation. If the other is not a suitable person, he will not lightly disclose the essential methods. Only such a one deserves to be called an enlightened teacher (mingshi).

A teacher who misleads others, by contrast, speaks of what is absent as present and of emptiness as fullness. Unwilling to examine his own errors, he teaches the wrong road to others. Some take the relations of man and woman for Yin-Yang, the millet of the classics for the millet-pearl, smelting in furnace and fire for Waidan (external alchemy), and the refining of the heart and kidneys for Neidan (internal alchemy). Some call meditative visualization the concentration of Shen (spirit), call practice timed to the hours of zi and wu “extracting and replenishing” (choutian), and call the turning of the breath the celestial circuit (zhoutian). Some take inert emptiness for Wuwei (non-action), the moving of Qi for deliberate action (youwei), and the forgetting of the body for the cultivation of stillness. Some call the refining of sleep the withdrawal of Yin, and the ingestion of sulfur the advance of Yang; still others seek long life by avoiding the five grains. Sayings of this kind are too many to count.

Such people speak neither of merit nor of integrity. They wear the robes of monks or Daoists, yet carry a money pouch at the waist; a Daoist cap is on their heads, yet their hearts are like snakes and scorpions. Seeing wealth and rank, they scheme to attach themselves to it; meeting hardship, they forget the Dao. They drink wine and eat meat, with no regard for the toil of the faithful who support them. They ruin their reputation and the teaching, not knowing that their conduct will leave a person sunk in perdition through myriad kalpas. As they walk they think of money; in every gesture they calculate clothing and food. If someone kowtows once, they take him as a disciple; if someone offers a cup of tea or a meal, they transmit what they call the methods of the Dao. Acting in the name of sages and worthies, they deceive themselves and deceive the world. They steal the words of immortals and Buddhas and fabricate strange doctrines. They care only that they themselves are fed and clothed—how could they care whether others live or die?

If those who seek the Dao listen only to what such people say and do not observe what they do, taking them for persons who possess the Dao, they very easily fall into the trap and harm their own nature and life. Once bewitched by them, mistaking false methods for true ones and clinging to the error without awakening, then even if a lofty perfected being or a sagely teacher later wishes to raise them up, it will be hard to find an opening. Encounters of this kind are by no means rare among those who cultivate the Dao. Monks and Daoists travel from place to place; who among them has not heard of several such incidents and several such speeches? If one selected people only by the mystery of what they say, then everyone would be a Buddha and each one an immortal. Yet students of the Dao number in the thousands and tens of thousands—how many truly accomplish the Dao? Sages and worthies, immortals and Buddhas, were never commonly met with; precisely because they are rare are they called persons of high attainment. A person of high attainment is one whose conduct and insight far surpass those of ordinary people. How could such a one be recognized merely by a ready tongue?

Years ago, my teacher secretly transmitted to me a method for distinguishing the true from the false. When you meet a cultivator, you may test him with wine, sex, wealth, and temper. If none of these temptations can move him, he may be no ordinary person. Then question him with passages from the Wuzhen pian and the Zhouyi Cantong qi (an important Daoist classic of elixir alchemy). If he can answer as soon as he is asked, he may be regarded as an enlightened teacher. I have tested this many times and found it borne out, and I hope to share the method with my fellow cultivators.

The Fifth Essential of Refining the Self and Building the Foundation

The Qinyuan Chun says: “For the sevenfold reversion of the Elixir, the cultivator must first refine the self and await the proper moment.” The Wuzhen pian says: “If one wishes to complete the nine-transmutation Golden Elixir (Jindan), one must first refine the self and hold the mind steady.” The principle of cultivating the True is this: returning the Elixir is relatively easy, but refining the self is difficult. If one hopes to return the Elixir without first refining the self, there is absolutely no way to succeed.

Returning the Elixir is like the beams and pillars of a house, and refining the self is like the house’s foundation. Without a foundation, the beams and pillars have nowhere to stand; without refining the self, the returned Elixir cannot coalesce. Once a student has received the teacher’s oral instructions, one should hasten to refine the self. When the practice has become thoroughly mature, then, on coming before the furnace to cultivate, one can respond with ease and mastery, so that lead and mercury join and emotion and nature accord. Naturally, the misfortune of gaining something only to lose it again will not arise.

From the time of birth, when Yang Qi (vital energy) reaches its peak, Yin Qi is generated. Pre-heaven Qi gradually dissipates, and post-heaven Qi begins to take charge; the pre-heaven endowment that once belonged to a person no longer belongs to that person. When, in addition, all manner of anxieties disturb the mind and Shen (spirit), and the myriad affairs weary the body, Jing (essence) and Qi leak away, the Shen grows muddled, and the breath declines. The body becomes like a broken pot or a cracked jar. A broken pot or cracked jar cannot hold water, and a body in decline cannot sustain the Elixir; the principle is the same. Therefore, although what belongs to the post-heaven is only borrowed for a time, it remains the condition on which completion of the returned Elixir depends, and it must not be allowed to suffer injury.

The ancients said: “If one did not have this dreamlike body, from where would the great matter be undertaken? And once the great matter has been accomplished, why still depend on this dreamlike body?” They also said: “Do not fear that the pre-heaven lacks the true seed; fear only that the post-heaven is not full enough.” When the post-heaven is abundant, the pre-heaven can be restored; when the pre-heaven is restored, the post-heaven can be transformed. How, then, can the work of refining the self and building the foundation be taken lightly?

What is meant by refining the self? To lessen greed and attachment is to refine the self; to guard Yin Jing firmly is to refine the self; to overcome drowsiness is to refine the self; to restrain oneself and help others is to refine the self; to take on heavy labor is to refine the self; to work upon the ground of the mind and to set worldly affairs wholly aside is to refine the self; to advance with courageous diligence and to take cultivation of the Dao (the Way) as one’s own responsibility is to refine the self; to keep one’s feet on solid ground and apply effort step by step is to refine the self; that wealth and rank cannot make one dissolute, that poverty and low station cannot alter one’s resolve, and that intimidating power cannot make one yield—this too is refining the self; and to wear coarse cloth while harboring fine jade within, with great wisdom that appears foolish and great skill that appears clumsy, is likewise refining the self.

The methods of refining the self are many, yet in the end they all point toward “no-self,” that is, toward no longer clinging to the ego. Laozi said: “The reason I have great trouble is that I have this body; if there were no this self, what trouble would there be?” When refining the self reaches the state of no-self, one no longer regards one’s own person as overly important, and yet the person is thereby preserved. The post-heaven foundation is thus made secure, the true Yang of the pre-heaven is restored, and at last the two blend into one.

“Pre-heaven Qi and post-heaven Qi: one who obtains them always seems as if drunk.” When one attains the state in which pre-heaven and post-heaven Qi unite, it is as though one were constantly in a mild intoxication, and the Elixir can be formed in a moment. But if one has not refined the self well and rashly undertakes a spell of cultivation, the post-heaven foundation will not be firm. Even if pre-heaven Qi is close before one’s eyes, it is not necessarily obtained. For when lead arrives, mercury does not come forward to meet it; when Kan water comes, Li fire is unwilling to receive it—that is, the corresponding Yin-Yang Qi cannot join.

Alas! In building the foundation one must use the tuoyue—a bellows, a metaphor for setting the breath in motion—and in refining the self one must also have “true lead,” a term of Neidan (internal alchemy) for the crucial power required in refining and nourishing. How could refining the self and building the foundation be an easy matter?

The Dao (the Way) of cultivation is the Dao of the Golden Elixir; the Dao of the Golden Elixir is the principle of according with the work of creation and transformation; and the Dao of creation and transformation is, in the end, the Dao of Yin-Yang. The Yijing (Classic of Changes) says, “The alternation of one Yin and one Yang is what is called the Dao.” It also says, “When the Qi (vital energy) of Heaven and Earth intermingles, the myriad things are generated and transformed from it; when male and female unite, the myriad things are able to multiply.” This means that Yin alone cannot produce the myriad things, and Yang alone cannot make them grow; only when Yin and Yang come together can there be generation.

In cultivating the Golden Elixir, what must be gathered is the “primordial true unitary Qi” (the source Qi that precedes the formation of the body and has neither form nor image). This Qi cannot be seen, heard, or touched; it comes forth from emptiness. The sage uses the substantial to bring the empty into view, and uses being to bring non-being into view. The “substantial being” spoken of here refers to true Yin and true Yang; “emptiness” refers to the Qi of the two-eight early crescent (a primordial Qi likened to the moon at its first crescent). The Qi of the early crescent is primordial Qi. If this Qi lacks the mutual interaction of Yin and Yang, it will not manifest form or image. To cultivate the great Dao of the Golden Elixir, there is no path apart from the union of Yin and Yang.

Yin-Yang, however, has different meanings. If the false is taken for the true, one’s efforts will be wasted and may even do harm rather than good, so the distinctions must be made clear. The Yin-Yang of man and woman is the Yin-Yang of the mundane world; the Yin-Yang of the heart and the kidneys is the Yin-Yang of the tangible physical body; the Yin-Yang of the sun and moon is the Yin-Yang of Heaven and Earth; the winter solstice and the summer solstice are the Yin-Yang within a year; the day of the new moon and the day of the full moon are the Yin-Yang within a month; the zi hour and the wu hour are the Yin-Yang within a day; and the second and fourth hou are the Yin-Yang within a double-hour. None of these is the Yin-Yang of which the Golden Elixir speaks.

The Yin-Yang of the Golden Elixir takes “my house” as Yin and “the other house” as Yang, representing oneself by the Li trigram and the other by the Kan trigram. The single Yin line within the Li trigram is true Yin, and the single Yang line within the Kan trigram is true Yang. “Taking from Kan to fill Li” means using true Yin to seek true Yang, and then using true Yang to replenish and aid true Yin.

Yin-Yang is further divided into inner and outer. Inner Yin-Yang is Yin-Yang that moves in accord with natural patterns. It belongs to what comes after birth, the post-natal, and is the ordinary human way. Outer Yin-Yang is Yin-Yang that moves by reversal. It points to the primordial condition before birth, and is the way of the immortals. Whether inner or outer, this Yin-Yang is not the concrete form and appearance of man and woman or the like. It clings neither to form nor to emptiness; it cannot simply be called being, nor simply be called non-being. It neither departs from being and non-being nor is bound by them. If one clings to the concrete forms and appearances of form, emptiness, being, and non-being, it is no longer true Yin-Yang.

Once Yin and Yang are understood, they must still be harmonized properly: neither too much nor too little, neither partial nor one-sided, neither hasty nor slow; neither clinging to being nor falling into emptiness; neither forcing them to adhere nor letting them separate; neither impetuous nor faint-hearted. Sometimes Yang stirs first and Yin responds afterward; sometimes Yin is aroused first and Yang answers afterward. Sometimes Yang is employed within Yin, and sometimes Yin is employed within Yang. Sometimes Yin is used to preserve Yang, and sometimes Yang is used to restrain Yin. Sometimes inner Yin-Yang assists outer Yin-Yang, and sometimes outer Yin-Yang replenishes inner Yin-Yang. When inner and outer join in accord with the Dao, the Golden Elixir can congeal and form out of emptiness. Once it is obtained and ingested, one may live long and not die.

The Cantong qi (a Daoist classic of elixir refinement) says, “Things of the same kind readily yield their effect; things of different kinds are hard to join with skill.” The Wuzhen pian (a Daoist classic of Neidan, internal alchemy) says, “The inner medicine and the outer medicine communicate with each other: what is open within the body must also be open outside it. The root of elixir refinement must be harmonized by things of the same kind, and in gentle nurturing one must attend to the working of both aspects.” Zhang Sanfeng says, “The Yin-Yang of the world is the pairing of man and woman, the bearing of children, and their transmission from generation to generation. To follow the ordinary course is to remain an ordinary person; to reverse the ordinary course is to be able to become an immortal. The key lies in inverting the order of Yin and Yang and putting it to use.” The principle of harmonizing Yin and Yang is, in its essentials, fully set forth here.

Clarifying the Fire Timing: The Seventh Essential

The ancient scriptures say: “The sages transmit the medicines, yet they do not transmit the fire timing; from ancient times, few have understood the fire timing.” That is to say, the medicines are comparatively easy to understand, while the fire timing (huohou) is the most difficult to master. Although the medicines are hard to find, if one meets an enlightened teacher who points the way, one can understand them at once and need not seek them anywhere else; therefore they are said to be easy to know.

The fire timing, however, includes many aspects. There is civil fire for simmering and refining, and martial fire for forging and tempering; there are moments for setting one’s hand to the work, and moments for pausing; there is a distinction between the inner and the outer, and also an order of what comes first and what comes after; there are the earliness or lateness of the hours and the lightness or heaviness of the measure, as well as the considerations of advancing and withdrawing, of urgency and slowness, and of when to stop. Every step of cultivation has its corresponding fire timing. The variations are numerous and must be adjusted from moment to moment if one is to hit the mark exactly. Even the slightest error will produce a great deviation; therefore the fire timing is the most difficult to master.

What is meant by “fire”? It is the wondrous skill of forging and refining. What is meant by “timing”? It is the opportune moment for applying that skill. The moment for applying the fire timing lies when Heaven and Earth are still in chaos and Yin-Yang have not yet been distinguished. The work of forging and refining lies in the state in which Heaven and the human being correspond, and one clings neither to being nor to non-being.

Fire timing is further divided into outer fire timing and inner fire timing. Outer fire timing is the gathering of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water) and the harmonizing of the Four Images. Inner fire timing is bathing and warm nurturing, and guarding against danger. Although the medicines used inwardly and outwardly are the same, the application of the fire timing differs greatly. Without the guidance of a truly enlightened teacher, how could one grasp it accurately?

Gathering the Five Phases and harmonizing the Four Images means borrowing the living impulse of Heaven and Earth and stealing the fundamental primordial Qi (vital energy) of Yin-Yang; turning the handle of the Dipper and shifting the Pivot of Heaven, opening the gate of Kun and closing the door of Gen. Its subtlety lies in this: after Yin Qi has accumulated to its fullness, the moment when the newly born single Yang stirs into life once more. At that time the cultivator accords with the De (Virtue/Power) of Heaven and Earth, the brightness of the sun and moon, the order of the four seasons, and the good and ill fortune indicated by ghosts and spirits. The saying, “In a year there is only one month; in a month there is only one day; in a day there is only one hour,” refers precisely to this moment.

This moment is easy to miss and hard to find; it is easy to misjudge and hard to encounter. Grasp it, and one enters the Dao (the Way) of life; miss it, and one enters the Dao of death. At this moment the sages employ the Yin tally and the Yang fire, draw out the “root of Heaven,” probe the “cavern of the moon,” break open chaos, and pluck the “millet pearl,” mastering the crux of the seventy-two seasonal markers and seizing the proper Qi of the twenty-four solar terms. The mutual assistance of water and fire, the joining of metal and wood, and the meeting of lead and mercury all take place at this moment; securing one’s person and establishing one’s destiny, and passing from death into life, also take place at this moment. If it is missed, Yin-Yang separate: what is genuine conceals itself, what is false begins to act, and cultivation falls into the postnatal and loses its efficacy.

The scriptures use lines of verse to explain the fire timing of each stage of the Reverted Elixir:

“On the banks of the Winding River the moonlight gleams” speaks of the fire timing when the medicines are generated. “When the message of the wind arrives, seek the original source” speaks of the fire timing for gathering the medicine. “When water gives birth to two, the medicine is truly right; if one waits for the third, one must not advance” speaks of the fire timing for distinguishing whether the medicine is mature or tender. “When lead meets the arising of gui, it must be gathered at once; when metal meets what is seen from afar, it is no longer fit to taste” speaks of the fire timing for mastering urgency and delay.

“Suddenly seeing the dragon appear in the field, one must cook fiercely and refine in haste; but on hearing the tiger roar and enter its den, one should reverse the turning and act in reverse” speaks of the fire timing for employing martial fire. “Slowly tend the medicine furnace and watch the fire timing; simply settle Shen (spirit) and breath and leave them to what is natural” speaks of the fire timing for employing civil fire. “Before the Reverted Elixir is refined, one must refine urgently; once it has been refined, one must still know when to stop and be content” speaks of the fire timing of warm nurturing. “Only because, after the force of the fire has been harmonized, the yellow sprout that was planted gradually grows to maturity” speaks of the fire timing when the elixir medicine is brought to completion. “Entrust it to the heart’s knowing, guard and uphold it with care, and watch the fire timing take flight within the furnace” speaks of the fire timing for protecting the elixir medicine. All of these are the fire timings of the Reverted Elixir.

As for the fire timing of the Great Elixir—a higher level of elixir method within the cultivation of Neidan (internal alchemy)—there is a further subtle application. “Receiving Qi is auspicious; guard against its becoming inauspicious” speaks of the fire timing for forming the embryo. “In chaos, dead for seven days and then alive again, one relies entirely on one’s companion to regulate water and fire” speaks of the fire timing for stabilizing the elixir embryo. “Send it back to the earthen cauldron and seal it firmly; next the flowing pearl enters, and thus they are paired” speaks of the fire timing for nurturing the embryo. “In using lead one must not use ordinary lead; and once true lead has been used, it too is cast aside” speaks of the fire timing of extraction and replenishment. “At the elixir stove let the river chariot cease its toiling; the crane embryo and the turtle breath continue of themselves, unbroken” speaks of the fire timing of bathing. “Within a single day, through the twelve hours, wherever intention arrives, all may be done” speaks of the fire timing for guarding against danger. “The infant is the One, containing true Qi; when the embryo of ten months is complete, one enters the foundation of sagehood” speaks of the fire timing when the elixir embryo matures. “When the host of Yin has been entirely stripped away and the elixir is mature, one leaps out of the mundane cage to a life of ten thousand years” speaks of the fire timing of emerging from the embryo. These are the fire timings of the Great Elixir from its beginning to its completion.

In addition, the methods of the inner and outer elixirs each have fire timings that are mutually related. “If ordinary people wish to seek the affairs of Heaven above, when the time of use comes they must have the wealth of the world” speaks of the finer fire timing within the fire timing of gathering medicine. “In the crescent-moon furnace the jade stamens are born; in the cinnabar tripod the mercury lies level” speaks of the finer fire timing within the fire timing of forming the elixir. “On the seventh day Yang returns and begins anew; another subtle working blends the hundred spirits” speaks of the finer fire timing within the fire timing of forming the embryo. “Neither being nor non-being is established; things and the self all return to emptiness” speaks of the finer fire timing within the fire timing of emerging from the embryo. The secrets of the fire timing of Neidan and of Waidan (external alchemy) are, in their main outlines, all contained here.

Within these there are still finer and more subtle points, which the cultivator must come to understand in practice and adapt flexibly according to the circumstances of the moment. Such matters cannot be transmitted by written words alone.

The Wuzhen pian says: “Do not take clever artifice for the work of cultivation; recognize the true formula that comes from outside oneself and can keep a person from dying.” Yuandu zi says: “The Qi (vital energy) of the Prior Heaven comes from within emptiness.” The scriptures (jing) call it “the other household” and “emptiness,” and from this one can see that the medicine in question is not produced by oneself alone.

At this point, the gods of the heavens and the people of the world alike will be startled and doubtful. Heaven and Earth generate the myriad things through Yin-Yang and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water); Qi gathers and takes on form. Human beings receive the proper Qi bestowed by Heaven and Earth, and so become the most spiritual of all beings. With this Qi they also possess the principle that corresponds to it. Qi concerns life, and principle concerns inner nature; both nature and life are conferred by Heaven. What Heaven gives as life it will in the end take back—such is the natural tendency. If one relies only on the fleshly body formed after birth and tries to wrest the power of mastery from Heaven, one remains in the end at the disposal of the creative process. How could one ever escape it? Without the Golden Liquor Reverted Elixir—the Dao (the Way) of cultivating nature and life, described in the language of alchemy—any vain hope of preserving nature and life is futile.

The way of the Golden Liquor Reverted Elixir belongs to the Dao of the Prior Heaven. That Dao embraces Heaven and Earth and sets Yin and Yang in motion; it concerns the secret of how Heaven and Earth operate, and is therefore the foundation for liberation from birth and death, escape from the cycle of rebirth, and passage beyond the ordinary into the realm of the sage. Yet this secret seems a thousand miles away when in fact it lies right before the eyes. Unfortunately, people will not inquire into it seriously. They drift gradually away from it, and some never turn back at all, wasting their nature and life to no purpose. If someone with this aspiration can search out the principle to the end, suddenly break through doubt, set down every entanglement, and pass directly beyond the dusty world, the Golden Elixir (jindan) can be completed very soon. There is no need to wait three years or five.

Even so, the forming of the elixir looks easy, while genuine cultivation is hard. Without a method in which emptiness and fullness respond to each other, Yin and Yang transform, and life is prolonged, the Golden Elixir cannot form. The so-called art of extending life is to seize mastery over the creative work of Heaven and Earth, grasp the subtle turning of Yin and Yang as they wax and wane, and reverse the momentum of generation and destruction. This is cultivation in accord with the Dao of the Prior Heaven, a way that even Heaven cannot contravene. The Yinfu jing (Scripture of the Hidden Accordance) says: “Steal the hidden trigger of the creative process; no one in the world can know it or see it.” The Wuzhen pian says: “When cultivation begins in purposeful action, others can hardly see it; when the stage of Wuwei (non-action) is reached, people only then begin to understand. Yet they see only the marvel of non-action. How could they know that purposeful action is its foundation?”

Once a person has lost the condition of the Prior Heaven, the true yang within the body is diminished. Even if the outer form is male, the interior has already inclined toward yin. To cultivate with nothing but what one already has is merely to make use of saliva, bodily fluids, Jing (essence) and Qi, blood, and the like, together with the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind, the seven emotions and six desires, the five aggregates and eight consciousnesses, the three Peng, the hundred cavities, and other factors of body and mind. That is to supplement yin with yin. How, then, can life be continued, and how can the Golden Elixir form? Thus the Cantong qi says: “When a hen incubates eggs by herself, the chicks that hatch are not complete.” This is exactly the point.

What the elixir scriptures call the “external medicine” is so named because the true yang that originally belonged to one’s own body has scattered outside. It is no longer in one’s own keeping, but is lodged in “the other household,” and is therefore called external. Those who do not understand misread “other” and “external.” Some take it for the bedchamber art of sexual union; some take it for medicines of metals and minerals; others take it for tangible things such as heaven and earth, the sun and moon, clouds and roseate mists, plants and trees. In truth, the great medicine is neither visible form and color nor empty void and stillness. One cannot simply say that it exists, nor that it does not exist. It is the primordial Qi from before Heaven and Earth had taken form, the original humane Qi from when Heaven and Earth had not yet divided. Follow its course, and human beings and the myriad things are generated; reverse its course, and one can cultivate into an immortal or a buddha.

Following the method, the sage gathers this Prior Heaven Qi and, within a single double-hour, condenses it into a precious pearl the size of a millet grain, called the Yang Elixir, the Reverted Elixir, the Golden Elixir, or True Lead. True Lead is then used to transmute one’s own yin mercury, as a cat seizes a rat, so that the yin mercury congeals in an instant into the sacred embryo. The name “external medicine” comes from this.

Many passages in the scriptures point to the external medicine. For example: “The medicine emerges from the southwest, the position of Kun; in seeking the position of Kun, how could one leave the human body?” “On the third day, the metal of Geng appears in the trigram Zhen of the Bagua (Eight Trigrams); on the bank of the winding river the moonlight is clear and bright.” “The golden cauldron must retain the mercury within the cinnabar; the jade pool must first send down the silver within the water.” “Take what is solid in the position of Kan, and transmute the yin Qi within the belly of the palace of Li.” “In the reclining-moon furnace the jade stamens grow; within the cinnabar tripod the quicksilver lies still.” “When the two Qi of Kan and Li are harmonized, the yellow sprout arises of itself.” All of these speak of the external medicine.

If the medicine is originally outside, how can it be brought forth within? If it originally belongs to “the other household,” how can it become one’s own? The scripture says: “When the Five Phases generate one another in their ordinary order, every place is like a pit of fire; when the Five Phases operate in reverse, the great earth is like the seven treasures.” Wood ordinarily generates fire, yet here fire is made to generate wood in return; metal ordinarily generates water, yet here water is made to generate metal in return. Within metal, wood, water, and fire are also contained the two earths Wu and Ji, which are set to harmonize the four images and join the Five Phases, so that the one Qi circulates and returns once more to Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate). When the firing attains its measure, a single elixir of utmost yang is refined. Take it and ingest it, and one can live long without dying, share the springtime of Heaven and Earth, and rival the light of the sun and moon. The saying, “Only when a single grain of the Golden Elixir is swallowed into the belly does one know that one’s destiny is not fixed by Heaven,” means precisely this.

Alas—ten thousand taels of gold cannot buy it; yet at the crossroads it will bring the person of affinity before a True Person. The great Dao of the Golden Elixir is transmitted only once in ten thousand kalpas, and nothing is more honored. One who obtains it can enter the station of the sage at once, without waiting for another life, and in this very life gain spiritual powers like those of buddhas and gods. What reason, then, does a person have not to accumulate De (Virtue/Power) and cultivate the Dao?

The Daodejing says: “When there is desire, observe its essential aperture; when there is no desire, experience its subtle mystery.” These two sentences run through the great Dao (the Way) of the Golden Elixir from beginning to end, and they have been an important formula for cultivators through the ages. If the outer medicine—practice weighted toward the body and the transformations of Yin-Yang—has not been accomplished, one cannot pass beyond the limits of Yin-Yang; if the inner medicine—practice weighted toward the cultivation of mind and nature—has not been accomplished, form and spirit cannot both reach fulfillment.

Those of higher De (Virtue/Power) cultivate the inner medicine, and the outer medicine comes to be present along with it; those of lower De first cultivate the outer medicine, and only then can the inner medicine be brought to completion. The outer medicine belongs to gradual practice; the inner medicine belongs to sudden awakening. The outer medicine serves to transcend the ordinary; the inner medicine serves to reach the sagely realm. “Observing the aperture when there is desire” refers to the outer medicine: through cultivation of the body, one works the pivot of creative transformation. “Contemplating the mystery when there is no desire” refers to the inner medicine: through illuminating the mind and seeing one’s nature, one cultivates the dharma-body (the spiritual substance that transcends the fleshly body). If one has already obtained the outer medicine yet does not go on to cultivate the inner medicine, it is as Lü Dongbin said: “Though one’s lifespan equals that of heaven and earth, one is still a fool.” What is more, the hardest thing to obtain in the Great Elixir is precisely the outer medicine. Once the outer medicine is in hand, it is the foundation of the inner medicine; the sacred embryo (the form, in cultivation, that symbolizes the coagulation of Neidan, or internal alchemy) has already shown its first signs, and from this the later Yinfu practice (the work of regulating body and mind and according with the transformations of Yin-Yang) unfolds.

The Cantong qi (a classic of Daoist internal alchemy) says: “The three treasures—ear, eye, and mouth—must be closed and stored away, and not allowed to reach outward recklessly of themselves; the True Person sinks into the deep abyss, floating and roaming while guarding the center of the compass.” This is what is meant by “contemplating the mystery when there is no desire.” “Contemplating the mystery without desire” speaks of the Dao of Wuwei (non-action). Yet Wuwei is not a lifeless state like withered wood and cold ashes, nor is it doing nothing at all. It still includes such practices as morning Zhun and evening Meng, extracting lead and adding mercury, guarding against danger and watching for peril, and sealing and safeguarding the sacred embryo. These practices bring the Five Phases into fusion and Yin and Yang into transformation, until one finally reaches a state in which both the Dao and its methods are forgotten and neither being nor non-being is clung to. After ten months of nurturing, a transformation like the descent of frost appears, and it seems as if there were another body outside the body; one can infer the future from the past, and at last return to the realm of suchness and great awakening. This is what Buddhists call the treasury of the true Dharma-eye and the wondrous mind of nirvana, and it is also the Great Way of the highest vehicle.

If these practices are rashly undertaken before the work of life (ming) has been completed, the foundation will not be firm, and the cultivation will be empty and insubstantial, as though one had not yet been refined to maturity in the furnace-fire of creative transformation. Even if one has realized the nature of suchness, so long as a single thread is left unfinished, one can hardly avoid the trouble of shedding the bodily form only to receive a body once more. Later people do not understand the ancients’ intention and often make light of the cultivation of nature and principle. Yet among practitioners in the world, how many truly understand the mind of nirvana and see the nature of suchness? The mind of nirvana and the nature of suchness are pure and undefiled, perfect and luminous, penetrating heaven and earth; they cannot be taken for the postnatal emotions and blood and Qi (vital energy).

The ancients also said: “If one fulfills only nature (xing) and not life, then through ten thousand kalpas the yin spirit can hardly enter sagehood.” This saying is directed at those who cultivate only mind and nature and have not cultivated the work of life. If the work of life has already been completed, how can one fail to go on and cultivate nature? Without cultivating nature, one easily grows obstinate in the face of things; even if one possesses a family estate, there is no one who truly stands as master. Without cultivating nature, even if one has left the illusory body, it is hard to leave attachment to the dharma-body; even if one can attain long life, one cannot reach birthlessness; even if cultivation in this present life succeeds, it cannot guarantee the fundamental perfection that precedes birth.

The work of fulfilling nature through the inner medicine is of great consequence. The long undertaking of cultivating the Dao must be brought to its conclusion here—how can the work of nature be slighted? I hope that those who seek the Dao will hasten to cultivate life before cultivating nature, and that, once the work of life is complete, they will also hasten to fulfill nature. Employing Yin and Yang together, in the dual cultivation of nature and life, one passes from youwei (deliberate practice) into Wuwei, until one clings neither to being nor to non-being, breaks through the void, and enters the realm of neither birth nor cessation. Only then is the enterprise of cultivating the True complete.