《古书隐楼藏书》Vol. 3

Therefore, after resolute firmness, one must add another measure of courageous boldness. What is assiduous progress? Here, resolute firmness means cutting through the entanglements of favor and grudge, using that to cultivate the heart and settle one's life and destiny; here, courageous boldness means subduing a scattered mind and putting in order wandering, unsettled thoughts, so that the spirit is calm and settled.

What is the further stage of assiduous progress? It is that the person who studies the Dao investigates birth and death: before this body yet existed, where were you? After this body dies, where do you go? All things in heaven and earth, and everything used in daily life, are none other than the Dao. What the eyes see and the ears hear—there is not a single thing that is not within the Dao, and not a single thing that can stand outside the Dao.

Things have root and branch; that is the birth and death of things. Affairs have beginning and end; that is the birth and death of affairs. If one applies the mind to penetrate this, resolves to seek with diligent vigor, and understands the root and branch of things, one can understand the birth and death of the body; if one understands the end and beginning of affairs, one can understand the arising and cessation of the mind. By finely observing and truly grasping things in concrete affairs, extending from one thing to all things and from one affair to ten thousand affairs, one understands without exception the pivot of birth and death and the principle of arising and cessation. Then root and branch, birth and death, and arising and cessation are unified as one and the same practice—only at this point does one come close to the Dao.

Then sink the heart into the great Dao, trace it minutely, see through what is hidden, grasp the subtle mechanism, silently embody the heart of heaven (the heart that is heaven's inherent nature), and inwardly penetrate the essential aim, so that this one point of pure spiritual clarity undimmed runs through source and stream, meets the ten thousand things without confusion, and handles the ten thousand affairs without bewilderment. If one refuses assiduous progress and slackens on one's own, that is throwing oneself away and willingly becoming an inferior ghost (one who cannot transcend), with no genuine resolve to cultivate.

Even if you sit cross-legged in meditation for a hundred years and extend your life to a thousand, you still cannot escape impermanence and will fall back into the cycle of rebirth. What is meant by “discarding and removing” is to cast off former coarseness, clear away everything that should be removed, and resolve to practice in earnest; it means eliminating heterodox side paths, beginning cultivation anew from this point, and turning the heart with single-minded reverence upward.

This bit of pure, undimmed true lineage is called the primordial primordial treasure. It shifts and transforms in countless ways and has no fixed form. When it meets outer things and responds to events, its uses differ and its answers are not the same. Everywhere you may glimpse its trace, yet at every moment you lose track of it. Follow the subtle spiritual responsiveness layer by layer in contemplation, and still it is hard to pierce through to the top or exhaust its depth. Once it stirs, it wells up without end—take it and it is not used up, employ it and it does not fail. Those who awaken obtain it for themselves; those who are confused stand far apart from it.

I only fear that once you have awakened to one or two parts of the principle, you should hold to it and awaken further—do not discard it and seek awakening elsewhere; that would be inconstancy. You must use an unchanging, constant spiritual responsiveness to turn the inconstant, ever-changing things of the world; then the principle becomes clear and true nature appears. Cast off the old and take up the new, bore in layer by layer, and step by step ascend. If you cannot stand alone with clarity, how can you penetrate the deep, subtle spiritual responsiveness, see through birth and death, rise above the world, and shed the roots of doubt accumulated through myriad kalpas?

What is meant by giving (bushi): insights awakened yesterday, subtle principles gained before—whatever you have awakened to or obtained, whether you give it to sentient beings or store it within the inner field of essence, you must not keep it to muddy your spiritual platform. “The past mind cannot be grasped, the future mind cannot be grasped”—even this present mind before your eyes cannot be grasped. Within this ungraspable state, seek again a subtle place that you yourself have attained, and the light of wisdom will be complete. Giving with material wealth is called cultivating merit; giving with dharma principle is called cultivating wisdom. Giving of wealth always has a limit when it is used up; the dharma I speak of, when given, has no end.

Giving through material wealth can only help people get by in worldly life—supplying food and clothing for the physical body and maintaining outward dignity. When the wealth is spent, people are still left empty-handed. What I call giving through the Dharma can serve both worldly and transcendent ends; through such giving one can open people’s delusion and lift up the root of their spiritual nature (linggen). The “giving through wealth” spoken of here does not mean handing out ordinary money from the world.

For ordinary people, what nurtures life, saves others, relieves urgent distress, wards off disaster, brings peace to the nation and its people, harmonizes movement and stillness with yin and yang fire and water, and dispels misfortune and hardship—all the boundless subtle power of proclaiming the teaching on heaven’s behalf, commanding yin and yang, and penetrating heaven and earth—this “wealth” (cai) is really “talent” (cai), the same as the attendant Sudhana (Shancai) beside the Great Bodhisattva Guanyin of the South Sea.

You must understand: if you wish to obtain the treasure of heaven, you must use the “wealth” of the human world. This worldly wealth is not vulgar money but the Dharma-wealth you employ to deliver others—called the divine treasure (shenbao)—and therefore it can draw down the heavenly treasure (tianbao). What is meant by daily use is nothing other than giving through the Dharma. Whoever awakens to this is a person of innate wisdom who has endured myriad kalpas.

What is meant by “clear and penetrating”? One who can give the subtle Dharma and liberate beings must have vision that is truly clear and wisdom that is truly penetrating. Nothing in heaven, earth, or the myriad things lacks this spiritual nature. If I treat the Dharma as a fixed, dead teaching, that is attachment to the Dharma (zhizhuo yu fa). What comes from such attachment is dead Dharma, not living Dharma—that is what it means for one’s insight not to be clear and penetrating. Therefore, if you use only the Dharma you yourself practice to instruct others, applying unchanging principles to match the spiritual nature of all things, that is dead Dharma—a rigid, mechanical key (jikuo).

To act in this way is like nailing the boat’s mooring stake fast and then trying to row, or gluing the zither’s tuning pegs in place and then trying to pluck the strings—pure rigidity. One must not treat only one’s own method as right and everyone else’s as wrong; one should be upright and open, instruct at the right moment, act as circumstances require, and explain with tact and flexibility. If you use square, inflexible methods to guide what calls for supple responsiveness, nothing will turn; if you address the dull with the same speech you use for the wise, the timing is wrong. When you meet the dull, speak in language the dull can grasp, help them understand, and gauge what they can actually do and follow—only then can they gradually awaken. If you still use the dull person’s teaching style on the wise, that too misses the moment. You yourself and others must both be able to penetrate the meaning; refined and plain alike must be able to take it in—round, lively, and adaptable: the wise see wisdom in it, the humane see humanity in it. Blockages can be cleared, restlessness and confusion can be settled, doubts resolved, slowness sharpened into clarity; the deaf may hear, the blind may see—only then is it truly lofty, and only then is one fit to lead in delivering and guiding beings.

What is humility? When cultivation has truly reached this stage, meeting someone of clear insight, one only feels how vast wisdom is and how empty the heart has become—everything outside the body and every affair in the world is utterly void; above it seems to shake the gate of heaven, below to sway the axis of earth; one transcends the human realm and the spirit enters emptiness—how could one still feel that living beings stand before one? From antiquity to the present, practitioners of the Two Vehicles (shravaka and pratyekabuddha paths, who lean toward self-liberation) and lower-grade immortals often fall into this sickness. The disease has sunk deep into marrow and bone, yet they notice nothing—hence they are called roots of the small vehicle, side gates and outside teachings, heterodox paths and demonic arts. If it is so, they truly do not understand: the Dao has no fixed form; spirit transforms in ways that cannot be measured—how could you confine or capture it? It is merely something limited—why then vaunt yourself and set up your own banner?

Have you never heard? The Supreme (the highest Dao, also the ultimate realm embodied by the Supreme Old Lord) does not rush ahead of all under heaven—does not seize enjoyment first, does not boast of merit, does not parade the Dao. Advancing means yielding; loftiness rests on humility. Place yourself outside affairs, and you preserve yourself; put yourself behind, and you come out ahead. While others scramble forward, I alone step back. The highest De does not cling to the name of “having De”; the superior person does not contend with others. Look at me—there is nothing to show off: no self-aggrandizement, no self-importance, no forcing oneself forward. The more you give everything to others, the fuller you become; the more you benefit others, the richer you are. I do not know its name; I can only call it “Dao.”

Therefore, the higher cultivation rises, the more one must practice humility and yielding. Use modesty, benevolence, and softness to guard genuine depth: on one hand spread compassion and wisdom widely, on the other gather and conceal your light. The sharp instruments of state (forceful means) must not be displayed lightly. I do not coerce people into obedience; people naturally trust and follow me.

At this point, the principle of liberation cannot remain unknown. What is liberation? Friends, whoever clings and cannot let go cannot understand Dao and De. Be free and at ease—not bound by methods and rules; without a single attachment—not dragged down by outer things; round and unobstructed—teach according to each person and situation; bright and undimmed—deliver beings through long ages. Enter the gate of all wonders (the master gateway to the subtlety of the ten thousand things) and become the mother of beings—for the Dao begets and nourishes the ten thousand things. Compassion can cherish all things without treating “loving things” as compassion itself; goodness can rescue others without treating “helping people” as goodness itself. Wondrous Dharma can ferry beings across without treating “saving sentient beings” as wondrous Dharma itself; the supreme Dao can transcend the world without treating “leaving the world” as the supreme Dao itself. One can both leave the world and enter it; both escape suffering and bear suffering. Upward one can transcend the heavens without taking the celestial realm as a place of pleasure; downward one can universally save hell beings without taking hell as a place of torment. Where there is suffering, help others out of it; where there is joy, share joy with all.

When people are at ease, one can point out the suffering of sentient beings; when in hardship, one can point out their ease. In heaven, one guides dragons of heaven and ghosts and spirits so they hear right awakening and attain the fruits of immortal cultivation; below, one guides sinful dead souls so the shades of the departed see light and are reborn among humans; in the world, one guides all men and women of good faith to practice Wuwei (non-action), uprightness, loyalty, and fairness in daily life—this is the great path of worthiness. Do not let scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants fall into inferior petty methods, manipulate essence-spirit, become possessed by demons, and sink into evil destinies, warring like Asuras.

Such liberation must reach natural function—that is, the way of ease itself. Friends, what is called the wonder of the natural is as the Heart Sutra says of “Guanshi ziyin Bodhisattva”—that is Guanyin (Observing Sound): observing the sounds of the world and obtaining the wonder of the natural; observing by oneself and being at ease oneself—this is Guanyin, the bodhisattva in one’s own heart, the Guanyin of the Southern Sea. This is also contemplating the wondrous aspect of the other shore’s pure empty stillness, understanding the principle of empty non-being and the natural, and thereby seeing the wondrous aspect of true sound. The text then asks the listeners: without a true teacher’s pointing, could one awaken to this wondrous aspect of empty stillness?

Friends! Form is emptiness, emptiness is form; neither empty nor colored, the Dao is not true. The wondrous aspect of empty stillness is the way of true constancy—neither empty nor colored, with inexhaustible subtle function. It is one with me and with empty space; between empty space and it no “self” is carved out. Entering metal and stone without obstruction, entering water and fire without harm.

Friends must carefully investigate the nine chapters of Dao essentials, sit upright on the meditation cushion, and when all wondrous aspects are understood, return them all to the natural. When the three treasures (Jing, Qi, Shen—essence, vital energy, spirit) are realized, one can perfectly save others; merit is immeasurably high, and virtue does not remain with oneself alone. Entering metal and stone without obstruction, entering water and fire without harm.

Disciples, you should carefully investigate the essentials of these nine chapters on cultivation. Sit upright on the meditation cushion, contemplate the subtle visions that arise, and let everything follow nature. When the three treasures—Jing, Qi, and Shen—are verified within you, you can fully deliver others; merit becomes immeasurable, and virtue enough to subdue ghosts and spirits. Evil demons have no stratagem left, and wandering spirits lose heart—why then worry that people in the world will not believe or come to take refuge?

It is precisely this: with the merit of universal salvation and a heart set on relief, cultivate diligently and first deliver this acquired, earthly body of yours. With one thought of sincere intent, aspire to the eternal Dao; naturally the bodhisattvas will guard your practice. The wondrous scripture of the nine chapters can lift a person beyond the dusty world; the work of nurturing complete authenticity must be pondered deeply. Spread subtle words and genuine wonder, and do not shrink from the labor of dual cultivation of nature and life. When insight is clear, teach more abundantly; keep the heart kind, gentle, and humble, and do not boast of your own ability. Set aside outer appearances, forget the distinction between self and other, align the true suchness with the heart of Heaven, and walk according to the Great Dao. Free and unbound, you expound mystery—this is supreme emptiness, the Dao that is mystery upon mystery. Water and fire do not harm each other; the three families unite; when achievement is full and conduct complete, you may step upon the clouds.

Disciples, you have received the three hundred major precepts of the Zhongji Jie (Intermediate Precepts of Quanzhen), and what you must practice is hidden cultivation and refined deportment. You can no longer measure yourselves by the earlier Chuzhen Jie (Primary Precepts for entering the path). These rules are fine and deep; the work lies entirely in your own mind. Whenever a thought arises, preserve sincerity and maintain reverence, quietly examine it and remind yourself, and hold to what is centrally correct and utterly upright. Sweep your mind clean: like a clear sky and bright moon with not a wisp of cloud; like crystal or glazed glass without the slightest flaw; like a boundless mirror without a trace of dust; like a night pearl without a thread of dimness. Only when it is round, steady, and brilliantly luminous can you speak of having arrived.

This luminous wisdom and the marvelous aspect of true emptiness (the true body empty and still while marvelous function appears) originally come from upholding precepts and entering samadhi (ding). Only after forbearance cuts through obstacles, precepts are kept with strict purity, self-restraint is forged through discipline, and one is aided by fayao (methods and aids used in cultivation) can one reach this state. If you have only received the precepts but can rarely keep them, and your practice is neither hidden nor rigorous, yet you still deceive yourself, you absolutely cannot succeed. Why? Disciples, practice that is not strict is called causes with outflows (youlou zhi yin)—causes still tainted and liable to leak—how then can you realize the fruit of Wuwei (non-action)?

The four words “luminous wisdom” belong to the sharp root of the supreme vehicle. Those of inferior root in the lower vehicle cannot enter this in one leap. As long as the will does not scatter, gather spirit at the qi aperture (where breath gathers and settles), nurture the ancestral qi (innate primordial qi), warm and nourish what is prior to heaven, empty to the utmost, guard stillness with solid sincerity, pure and undivided, with spirit hidden in the limitless— from the ultimate you reach Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), and the light of wisdom naturally arises; when one yang returns (the first return of yang), you then see your original face.

To know the states of ghosts and spirits and to penetrate the pivot of creation and transformation is called zhi (wisdom as knowing). To take part in the transforming and nourishing work of heaven and earth, to shine in turn with the sun and moon, and to alternate in step with the four seasons is called hui (wisdom as responsive illumination). To manifest the Dharma body (true body) universally, embrace the entire dharmadhatu, all without leaving the scope of awakened awareness, entirely returning into clear radiant light—this is called the luminous mechanism, and also called wisdom.

To participate in assisting heaven and earth in transforming and nourishing the myriad things, to stand alongside the alternating radiance of sun and moon, and to keep pace with the cycling of the four seasons—this is called hui (wisdom). The Dharma-body (the true body-as-such) appears everywhere, yet can embrace the entire Dharmadhatu (the realm of all phenomena); all of it lies within awakened awareness, and all of it returns to bright, clear radiance—this is called guang (light). Penetrating the myriad things while formless, seeing all affairs before signs appear, filling empty space without leaving a trace, rising above sun and moon without casting a shadow—this is called ming (clarity).

If observance of precepts is not sufficiently meticulous, one cannot attain taiding (stable, great absorption). Without taiding, wisdom will not arise; without wisdom, light will not manifest.

The Yushu Baojing (Jade Pivot Precious Scripture) in one fascicle simply lifts up one's original nature and points directly at the human heart-mind, so that the truth within nature becomes clear and the subtle mechanism is fully revealed, enabling sentient beings to awaken to the Way through the scripture. Alas, the deluded are many and those who awaken are few. The mouth recites in vain while the heart cannot uphold; though the heart may be sincere, the power cannot transform. How regrettable to fail the sage's intent and point in vain at this precious Dharma treasure. I have no choice but to speak on the scripture's subtle meaning in its place, to reveal its true mechanism, so that you disciples may suddenly enter with understanding. Each of you, with reverence, listen attentively with full attention.

The scripture says: "Long ago, before fifteen hundred jie (aeons of immeasurable time), my mind encountered this Dao, and so I took my place among the shangzhen (highest true immortals); intention ripened into this accomplishment, and so I came to preside over the dahua (great transforming work)." It also says: "With a pure, quiet mind, raise vast vows; with the power of wisdom, subdue all demons." It also says: "You heavenly beings and humans wish to hear the supreme Dao. The supreme Dao is deep, remote, and hidden—it is not elsewhere. Since you wish to hear, what is without anything to hear is it. No hearing and no seeing—this is the true Dao. When hearing and seeing are both extinguished, only yourself remains. You are not even truly existent—how much less the Dao? Within not-hearing there is hearing—what Dao is there to discuss?" It also says: "The Dao: enter it with sincerity, maintain it in silence, and apply it with softness. Sincerity is like foolishness, silence like reticence (ne, poor with words), softness like clumsiness. Being able to do this, one can forget the body, forget the self, and then forget even this 'forgetting.' Those who enter the Dao know where to stop; those who keep the Dao know caution. Sincerity like foolishness, silence like reticence, softness like clumsiness."

When one can reach this state, one may forget the body, forget the self, and then forget even the thought of “forgetting.” Those who enter the Dao know where to stop; those who keep the Dao know how to hold it with care; those who use the Dao know how to discern what is subtle. To know the subtle is for Huiguang—the inner light of wisdom—to arise. To know careful restraint is for sage wisdom—the wisdom that accords with the Dao—to become complete. To know cessation is for the heart to settle in peace. When the heart is settled, sage wisdom is whole; when sage wisdom is whole, Huiguang arises; when Huiguang arises, one merges with the Dao as one body. This is called true forgetting (zhenwang). Such forgetting is forgetting without clinging to forgetting, forgetting until there is nothing left to forget; what cannot be forgotten is the supreme Dao (zhidao). The Dao is within heaven and earth, yet heaven and earth themselves do not know it; whether sentient beings or insentient things, all are this single Dao. The scripture also says: “One who awakens to this Dao may ascend the immortal rank (xianzuo).” It also says: “Foolishness can turn to wisdom, turbidity can become clarity—this is accomplished only by heaven’s mandate. Human dullness and murkiness likewise arise from changes wrought by regional climate and inborn endowment. Heaven and earth hide the pivot of their turning so that people do not know it—this is called spontaneity (ziran); even if people were made to know that they do not know, that too would be called spontaneity. The wonder of spontaneity, though its wonder lies in ‘knowing,’ becomes wonderful precisely from ‘not knowing.’ Yet as for the Dao itself, there never was foolishness, nor was there ever turbidity.” It also says: “All who have proclaimed or received this scripture from a supreme adept (zhishi) must prepare gold and silk offerings (zhuan jin zhi bi), swear an oath before heaven, and only then may it be transmitted.” Everyone, this is the truly arcane principle in the Yushu Sutra (Jiutian Yingyuan Leisheng Puhua Tianzun Yushu Baojing, Scripture of the Jade Pivot, Treasure Scripture of the Nine Heavens Responding to Primordiality, Thunder Spirit Worthy Who Universalizes Transformation)—supreme, inconceivable, the fine, wondrous dharma treasure of pure quiescence and liberation. You only know how to recite the scripture day after day, yet have never grasped its subtle intent. If, while reciting and upholding it, you awaken to the scripture’s secret wonder, then sage wisdom is complete and Huiguang arises. The Dao spoken of is utmostly deep: it cannot be seen and cannot be heard. Had not the Celestial Worthy (Leisheng Puhua Tianzun), fifteen hundred kalpas ago, already opened the heart of pure quiescence and vowed broadly to deliver all future sentient beings so that each might realize the wondrous ultimate— Moreover, the Dao is originally empty and nonbeing: there is no sound to hear, no form to see. Since there is no sound to hear, one should forget the ears; since there is no form to see, one should forget the eyes.

Once the ears and eyes are forgotten, seeing and hearing likewise fade away. Ears and eyes have form and color; they are the leaders among the six roots (eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind). Clinging to appearances and fixating on thoughts in seeing and hearing is precisely where the six roots arise—such a state cannot accord with the Dao. If one can purify the six aspects (the external objects corresponding to the six senses) and sweep away the six consciousnesses (the discriminating mind that arises from them), one listens not with the ears but with the heart, and sees not with the eyes but with the spirit (Shen). Then one can hear without deliberately listening and see without deliberately looking. When there is neither hearing nor seeing, one accords with the Dao.

The Chiwen Donggu Jing says: Forget the eyes, and light fills boundless space; forget the ears, and the mind’s knowing abides always in deep stillness. Forget both the mechanisms of eye and ear together, and one can enter the gate of all wonders. When looking, one does not see a single “I”; when listening, there is nothing heard—leaving behind all opposing edges, this is called the wondrous Dao. The Nanhuajing (Zhuangzi) says “qi stops at the ear, the heart stops at the tally”—meaning that the hearing of breath stops at the ear and no longer clings outward, and the heart rests where it matches the Dao. Hence the Yushu Jing says: Forgetting form and forgetting self is the very opportunity to enter the Dao.

One enters the Dao through cheng (sincerity)—cheng is precepts (jie); through mo (silence)—mo is concentration (ding); through rou (softness)—rou is wisdom (zhi). Using sincerity, outwardly one seems foolish, but in truth one holds precepts and subdues body and mind. Using silence, outwardly one seems slow of speech, but in truth one enters concentration and forgets ears and eyes. Using softness, outwardly one seems clumsy, but in truth wisdom is stored within. It is also said: If one seeks only within this physical body that kind of hearing and seeing, in the end one can neither see nor hear. The Diamond Sutra says: Whoever seeks me by form or seeks me by sound walks a deviant path and cannot see the Tathagata.

Therefore, to enter the Dao, one should only receive precepts and enter concentration, finely cultivate wisdom, and turn confusion back toward clarity—then within non-hearing and non-seeing there is true hearing and true seeing. Thus the one who enters the Dao must know zhi (stopping)—that is, holding precepts and stopping thoughts; must know jin (prudence)—that is, being vigilant in solitude and advancing diligently; must know wei (subtlety)—that is, abandoning sageliness and discarding cleverness, letting go of the mind that takes itself for sage or for skillful.

To stop wild delusive thoughts, one cannot do without precepts and wisdom. Returning from confusion to clarity means not straining to listen or to look, yet naturally hearing and seeing. Therefore those who enter the Way must know “stopping”—this is the work of upholding precepts and stilling thoughts; must know “carefulness”—this is the work of vigilance in solitude (being careful in conduct even when alone) and diligent effort; must know “subtlety”—this is the work of abandoning sageliness and discarding wisdom (letting go of the conceit that one is sagely or clever). Stilling thoughts cannot be achieved without precepts; vigilance in solitude cannot be achieved without concentration (ding); knowing subtlety cannot be achieved without wisdom. If one can truly uphold precepts, settle into concentration, and cultivate wisdom, body and mind become secure and at peace, sagely wisdom is complete and pure, and the light of wisdom shines everywhere. When that light of wisdom penetrates fully, one merges with the Dao and becomes one with it—this is called “true forgetting.” This true forgetting is not the obstinate emptiness (dead, blank void without any awareness) that one might fall into in seated meditation; it is true emptiness. Within true emptiness there is the wondrous purple-gold appearance (the subtle luminous body of purity)—that is, the wondrous fruit that is empty yet not empty. If one can avoid falling into obstinate emptiness and achieve “not empty within emptiness,” the subtle essentials will naturally appear. It is precisely because one forgets until there is nothing left to forget—and that which cannot be forgotten is the supreme true wondrous Dao.

It is also said: folly and wisdom differ, and clarity and turbidity are not the same. Though this relates to regional customs and uneven innate endowment, all arise from the turning of creation and the logic of fate and the cycles of qi (vital energy)—Heaven’s mandate is already thus. Yet the foolish remain foolish and the wise remain wise; Heaven and Earth never deliberately make people foolish or wise. What matters is whether one can awaken a pure mind and raise a great vow. To wish to leave the world and deliver others, one must first hear the Dao and save oneself. Saving oneself means taking refuge in the Three Treasures (Dao, scriptures, and teacher), receiving precepts and entering concentration, cultivating wisdom and letting forth light—then the foolish can become wise and the turbid can become clear. If one cannot uphold precepts and enter concentration, if wisdom does not open and there is no light to shine, then the clear will turn turbid and the wise will turn foolish. The Diamond Sutra says: the Dharma I speak is originally not a fixed, unchanging Dharma. That is exactly the meaning here.

The wisdom-light spoken of here shines through to the supreme mystery realm (Tai Xuan), illuminating the realm of all phenomena (Fajie)—and none of this lies outside the Yushu Baojing (Jade Pivot Precious Scripture). “Jade pivot” (yu shu) is the true mechanism (zhen ji). Those who wish to “turn the scripture” (zhuan jing—recite and uphold the classic) must first turn their own true mechanism, secretly accumulating merit (fu) and wisdom (hui). What they fear is that the treasury of radiance (guangming zang) cannot be opened or seen. If it cannot be seen, how can one discern the forms of ghosts and spirits, grasp the pivot of creation and transformation (zaohua), take part in heaven and earth’s transforming and nourishing of the ten thousand things, revolve sun and moon, gather the entire dharmadhatu into a single grain of millet, and settle things before they have fully appeared—so as to deserve the name master of the subtle Way (miaodao) and enter the rank of celestial immortal (tianxian)? It is precisely as the verse says: only when one has seen the treasury of radiance can one hear the root of the utmost Way; without cultivating precepts (jie) and concentration (ding), how can the light of wisdom penetrate deeply? Clinging to appearances is not the true image; only when one forgets attachment to outer hearing does one truly hear. Enter the subtle realm through hearing, reflection, and practice, and one freely receives the vast sound like the tide of the sea.

Nineteen. Spiritual Penetrations and Subtle Functions (Shentong Miaoyong).

Disciples, regarding the path of wisdom and luminous clarity discussed above, the Jade Pivot Scripture (a classic of Daoist thunder rites) stresses one point alone: let hearing and seeing both be extinguished. When there is neither hearing nor seeing, the subtle function has been fully spoken of, and numinous power appears.

The Yin Fu Jing says: “The deaf person listens with full intent; the blind person looks with full intent.” Ancient immortals said: “Listen in stillness and you do not hear thunder; look with care and you do not see Mount Tai.” The Doctrine of the Mean says: “How vast is the virtue of ghosts and spirits! Look yet you do not see; listen yet you do not hear.” The Zhuangzi says: “Do not look, do not listen—embrace and guard the spirit in quiet.” The Cantong qi (Zhouyi Cantong qi, a classic of internal alchemy) says: “The three treasures—ears, eyes, and mouth—must be sealed shut; do not let them open outward. The true person sinks into the deep abyss, floats within it, and holds to the still center within the body.” Such subtle sayings fill the scriptures beyond counting. Guanyin Bodhisattva entered samadhi (deep meditative absorption) through hearing, reflection, and practice.

The ear is the orifice through which Jing (essence) leaks. What leaks is not the floating Jing of postnatal desire, but the Qi of innate Taiyi essence-bearing truth—the Jing in which true primal unity responds. Turn inward to listen, block outward hearing, and Jing will not scatter; wisdom arises from this. The eye is the orifice through through which Shen (spirit) leaks. What leaks is not postnatal thinking-Shen, but the innate subtle form and numinous knowing of original awareness—the primordial Shen in the first stirring of pure Qi. Turn inward to see, gather the light back, and Shen will not wander outward; insight arises from this.

Keep precepts and enter deep absorption, and wisdom is born. Once wisdom is born, Water and Fire intercourse; when Water and Fire intercourse, Kan and Li unite (Kan as Water, Li as Fire); when Kan and Li unite, Heaven and Earth reach great harmony; at Earth-Heaven Great Peace (when the Qi of Heaven and Earth meet in accord), Metal and Wood combine; when Metal and Wood combine, Hun and Po meet; when Hun and Po meet, Jing and Qi transform; when Jing and Qi transform, numinous power appears; when numinous power appears, radiant light is released.

When a single ray of radiance is released, merit is complete; when merit is complete, the Dharmakaya—the true body of awakening—is realized; when the Dharmakaya is realized, the Dao-body, the ontological ground of the Dao, is disclosed; when the Dao-body is disclosed, miraculous function can be set in motion; when miraculous function moves, sentient beings are liberated; when beings are liberated, vow-power is fulfilled; when vow-power is fulfilled, the great matter—the root work of cultivation and realization—is finished; when that matter is finished, the fruit of attainment is secured. Only this One Vehicle, the single ultimately true teaching, is real; the other two vehicles are not. From first to last, nothing strays from the one word “sincerity” (cheng).

The Zhongyong says, “Without sincerity, there is nothing.” That “thing” (wu) is what exists amid blur and confusion, and the Jing (essence) that dwells in depth and obscurity—essence utterly real, and within it, faith (xin). Faith is sincerity; in the end it is still this sincerity. It is also the “thing” in the Yijing’s “Jing and qi become things,” and the “thing” in the Daxue’s “investigating things” (gewu). Jing is the jing of the Shangshu’s “hold to the singular jing”; zhong (centrality) is the zhong of “sincerely hold the central mean.” The Lotus Sutra says there is a jewel hidden in Form Mountain—the human body; the sage uses it to cleanse the mind-ground and stores it away in concealment. All of these point to this same thing. You must first store it inward before you can see it. An old verse runs: “When this mind holds not one thing, before your eyes is already the age of Fuxi.” Why seek supernatural powers and wondrous functions elsewhere? Why seek wisdom and radiance elsewhere?

Those supernatural powers and wondrous functions are, in the first place, the true person who keeps precepts and guards the Dao appearing in the world to teach—means to deliver beings and gather the false back to truth. Thus, within the light of great wisdom, wisdom extends a golden arm to lift beings out of suffering into stillness; to give the short-lived long life, turn disaster into ease, lands at peace, all preserving life and destiny; to make beings upright and good, drive off devils and evil, repel violence and rebellion, and quell demons and monsters; to make them kind and humane, neither killing nor harming; to steady the kalpa’s turning fate, loosen grudges and knots; to clear their darkness and bring forth light.

This passage explains the efficacy of the Daoist teaching. It can heal the myriad illnesses of sentient beings and dispel chronic ailments of many years; it can turn ignorance into wisdom, guiding people toward the right path and away from wrong conduct; it can lighten desires and clarify the heart, gathering outward-running passions back into one’s original nature; it can bring liberation without obstruction, rising above the ordinary and entering the sacred; it can accumulate merit, remove calamities, bring auspicious signs, and extinguish karmic guilt; it can lead people to leave the world to cultivate the Dao, attain the fruit of the Way, leave the sea of suffering, and ascend to the realm of the perfected.

It can further enable people to practice the supreme vehicle—the highest grade of method—ascend to heaven, universally guide sentient beings, and let the spirit roam the eight directions (the far reaches of heaven and earth in all directions), beyond even the celestial palaces. May the ordinary bodies of all sentient beings become bodies of the Dharma King (bodies of one who has attained the Dao and can teach freely). When others can no longer fathom where one abides, this is called shentong (spiritual penetration); when one does not reveal the inner pivot, this is called miaoyong (subtle function).

Therefore, the spiritual penetrations cultivated through the gate of jie, ding, hui (precepts, samadhi, and wisdom) are “spirit that is not contrived wonder”—not magic put on for show. They transform the six consciousnesses of eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind into six kinds of thorough penetration: penetrating heaven and earth, spirits and ghosts, humans and things—only then is it called shentong. Miaoyong is subtle efficacy that seems to act yet leaves no trace: by turning a single pivot, myriad transformations can be displayed in all directions, converting heavenly demons, earth sha (malevolent earth spirits), hosts of ghosts, evildoers, and monsters—this is called miaoyong.

Entering stillness within precepts and samadhi, with samadhi and wisdom radiating light, is the auspicious sign of the primordial Yi (pre-heaven primordial Qi) fully bright—an omen that naturally appears in quiet concentration. Upward it reaches the celestial palaces to pay homage to the ancestral Qi above the Sanqing (Three Pure Ones); downward it reaches the underworld to pardon guilty souls below the nine springs (the depths of the netherworld). With a single preaching of the Dharma, celestial spirits are subdued, the Five Emperors (sovereigns of the five directions) attend at the hall, myriad gods guard and stand in solemn ranks, all wishing to hear the true teaching and thereby lianshen huanxu (refine spirit and return to emptiness—a stage in neidan, internal alchemy). Those already liberated, with compassionate hearts, relieve suffering in the dark realms; then Yanluo (Lord of the underworld) praises, Dizang (Kṣitigarbha, who vows to save all beings in hell) emits light, ghost judges obey, nether officials are subdued, and sins are pardoned so souls may rise to new life. Sentient beings who hear the true teaching leave the registers of ghosts and together turn toward ultimate bliss. From this, one first saves oneself, then saves others, and raises a great vow.

Thus one first attains liberation oneself, then goes on to liberate others, establishing a vast vow: that all may hear the supreme Dao, using the dharma as medicine to heal and save beings everywhere, so that sentient beings and all creatures with spirit—including insects—may all gain deliverance. Earth, wood, brick, tile, broken stone and rubble may all resonate in mutual response; the conditions of all things may be thoroughly understood. Supernatural efficacy operates without conscious effort; heaven and earth and the myriad things are present in one’s own body. Wondrous function arises of itself; rivers, mountains, stars, and constellations are all gathered within the gate of the teaching. Tianmo (heavenly demons that disturb cultivation) all submit and bow in welcome; disha (earthly fierce spirits) turn gentle and return in reverent awe. Fierce ghosts and malign spirits, hearing the teaching, ascend and are transformed, never again receiving xueshi (offerings of blood and flesh). Asura and outer paths all uphold the correct dharma and turn toward the right way. War ceases forever; wrongs are redressed, grudges dissolved. By De (virtue/power) one transforms without relying on force to subdue; the wicked become good. By sincere heart one inspires without using spells to oppress; the perverse become upright. By reversing the handle of the Dipper to turn yin and yang (the Dipper handle symbolizes the pivot of the cosmos in Daoist practice; “reverse operation” means returning to the pre-heaven state), even spirits and ghosts cannot fathom it. By inverting the pivot of creation and transcending the world, heaven and earth cannot detect it. Spirits manifest everywhere; the dharmakaya (the indestructible true body) is firm yet has no form to be seen. The supreme wondrous dharma is proclaimed widely yet has no sound to be heard. Empty space is my dharma realm; I am the dharmakaya of empty space. Utterly unified with heaven as one body; upright and luminous, one heart with immortals and buddhas. Master Cheng said: “Release it and it fills heaven and earth in the four directions; roll it up and it withdraws into hidden depths”—this is exactly the principle. This is what is meant by the parent of all beings and the master of the Daoist gate. Is this not the supernatural efficacy of qingjing (purity and stillness) and liberation, the wondrous function of wuwei (non-action) and naturalness?

Friends: without clinging to outer appearances, wisdom becomes vast and penetrating; following tian Ni (heaven’s natural balance and measure), wondrous function has no end. What matters is only not slackening in daily life, and not abandoning it even in haste and urgency—nothing beyond the two words “Dao” and “De.” Why abandon precepts to study fulu (talismans and registers), cast aside true jade for worthless stone that only looks like jade, and willingly remain without wisdom, refusing to learn the supreme path? Alas!

Fellow seekers who enter the gate of mystery should aim for the highest vehicle; what is urgent and must not be cast aside are only the two words Dao and De. Why abandon precepts to study talismanic arts, discard true jade for worthless stone lookalikes, and willingly remain without wisdom, refusing to learn the supreme Dao?

Having entered the gate of mystery, you should seek the highest vehicle. Every person inherently holds the wondrous aperture; each is originally luminous. Only because obstacles are many do they treat precepts as empty words; even when they try to keep them, they often break off, the mind wanders, and samadhi does not go deep. For samadhi to be deep, the vow to keep precepts must be earnest, with neither forcing nor forgetting as the standard. Through the twelve double-hours of day and night, guard them moment by moment; over three or five years, without lapse or violation. When samadhi reaches the point of effortless non-fixation and precept-practice is mature, you naturally commune with spirit; once spirit communes, wondrous function is truly real.

To employ spiritual powers and obtain wondrous use, you must rely on ever-deepening sincere mind. If you obsessively grasp outer appearances in pursuit, you are living in a demon’s den, not the right path. Heterodox and side paths mostly stop at the physical form; clinging to emptiness or clinging to form and color are likewise not true cultivation. Not clinging to emptiness, not clinging to color— in samadhi there is no image to grasp; when there is resonance, communion is natural. Once applied, luminous clarity and divine function distinguish themselves; many cultivators lose their balanced practice right here. It is not that I speak too much— alas, the secrets of heaven have been spoken plainly.

When spiritual powers appear and wondrous use shines forth, that is the great dharma-king who penetrates heaven and earth. Without leaving the way of constant stillness and true constancy, you can turn those who followed heterodox paths back, and evil into good. The unfilial, once they understand filial piety and brotherhood, the stubborn and fierce all become kind. Wisdom like a bright mirror, awakened nature like spirit—the spirit platform alone shines clear. The six penetrations interact in use, leaving no trace of dust; great earth and rivers and mountains are all true gold. Do not slacken, do not slight precepts; precepts are the ladder to heaven, step by step upward. Spirit is hard to fathom, wonder hard to measure—yet they never depart from kindness, nor from employing true constancy through precepts and samadhi. The gate of suchness has its heaven-piercing aperture; in the non-dual fast, sacred fragrance is exhaled. Cultivate with sincere mind and do not abandon yourselves—here, from antiquity, is the great field of immortals.

20. Fully Awakening to Birth and Death: This topic means seeing through birth and death with complete clarity.

Fellow disciples: From ancient times to the present, sages, immortals, and buddhas have all been moved by this one great matter of birth and death—as when Bodhidharma spent nine years in silent meditation facing a wall—urgently probing life and death in order to leave the dusty world behind and tame the restless mind. Have you not heard? Human life is like a spark struck from flint or stone, like blossoms falling and water flowing away; when impermanence arrives, not a moment can be held. Sin and merit go with you, and in the turning wheel of rebirth you bear the consequences. Before the words are finished, the breath in the throat is cut off; before they leave the mouth, the tongue draws back and no sound comes out. Stripped bare, where can you settle? In boundless darkness, on what can you stand your life and nature? Those with great blessing may return to the human realm; those with heavy karma fall into Fengdu, the realm of the dead in our tradition. When merit is exhausted, one still returns to the wheel; when karma is cleared, one is reborn among beasts. Grudges tied over ten thousand kalpas are hard to release; sins accumulated over a thousand lives are slow to wear away. Life after life one drifts in delusion, drunk among the dead; wrong answers wrong in endless reprisal, born again wearing horns and fur. To speak of it is painful and lamentable, pitiable and dreadful. Unless you fix your resolve and hold fast to your inborn conscience—with a will that could lift heaven and overturn earth—unless you awaken to what awaits after death and give over body, mind, life, and nature, seeing through every folly of this life, you cannot leap free.

When you meet someone resolute and fierce, eyebrows bristling, who raises in hand the sword that slays demons; when a true hero releases great flood-tide rectitude and with a blade that splits deviance cuts false thought from the heart—you must see through it utterly: before my parents bore me, where did life and nature stand, and from what root of creation did they come? After I die, where shall I dwell? From this, realize the three bodies—past, present, and future—and trace the three times to the end: yesterday is no more than yesterday; tomorrow is already today. Then ten thousand cares are forgotten, and only this one point of spirit-light remains; every conditioned tie is swept clean, and only that one point of awakened nature is left. Enter the pass of the mysterious gate—the key aperture where nature and life meet in inner practice—and when one opening clears, a hundred openings clear; then you may behold the true foundation of the Way.

When you encounter the true source of the Dao, the three times—past, present, and future—become fully clear, and you transcend the three realms of desire, form, and formlessness. Once liberated, the entanglements of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) no longer cling to you; when the mind is empty, bright, and clear, the four great elements—earth, water, fire, and wind—return to emptiness. Enter the gate of all wonders and ascend to the domain of the Three Treasures (Dao, scripture, and teacher); coming and going are free, and transformations follow no fixed pattern. With a light touch on the cosmic mechanism, even ghosts and spirits cannot fathom its depths; solemnly inverting the hold on the Dipper handle—where internal alchemy takes the Dipper’s handle as the master of the body’s spirit and Qi, and “inverting the hold” means taking the power of yin-yang creation back into oneself—neither yin nor yang can govern that authority. Roam in the realm where primordial Qi (Xian Tian Yi Qi) fills the vast expanse, and realize fruition in clarity, emptiness, and boundless depth. Leave forever the calamities of the dusty world and leap free from the cage. The great work of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection)—body, mind, nature, and life in full authenticity—is complete, and the karmic thread of self-liberation is cut.

This entire realm of true emptiness must be approached through your own entry into deep meditation, layer by layer along the main path—it is not something you reach suddenly without cultivation. This subtle-existing Dharma body, which is not dead void but carries wondrous function, is entirely found by finding the key through wisdom and doing meticulous work step by step; how could one achieve it without awakening, by twists and turns alone?

Friends! The Dao is transmitted by sages; practice rests with you. De (Virtue/Power) must be accumulated by yourself; judgment lies with Heaven. Have you not heard: Heaven divides creation from within the One, and the person establishes the guiding principles of inner and outer life from the heart. Each of you should strive and cultivate without delay—you must seize the moment. Those not yet awakened need not lose a good opportunity; those who have awakened return straight to the clear sky; those not yet awakened need not fall into hell either.

Friends! It is like knocking on a door with a gold brick—even if the door does not open, the gold brick is still in your hand. Keep precepts and cultivate the Dao; even if the Dao is not yet realized, the precepts remain, and you will not sink into the underworld bureaucracy—you will eventually be reborn in the yang world. When past causes are not obscured, realization of the fruit comes naturally; turn even slightly, and you still have something to hold onto.

Friends! To understand birth and death, do not look outside yourself. Once birth and death are understood, you will know the true origin within the heart. All I have said at length is not really a method in itself. If you can enter this heart and act accordingly, you will find that principle for yourself.

Investigate life within death, and grasp death within life. The pass and the path between life and death turn entirely through yourself—within your power, not mine to decide for you. Seek stillness in movement, and movement in stillness. If you earnestly observe in this way, you will naturally find your way to that truth. The first hint where movement and stillness meet depends wholly on innate knowing (the awareness inherent in the human heart-mind) shining inward. What you must question is your own heart; you cannot rely on questioning the master alone. Keep these words in mind and you will not go wrong; fail to act on them and mistakes will come in the end. This lamp of mine that lights the dark road has already guided millions who had lost their way; this raft of mine that ferries through suffering has carried travelers on long journeys as countless as the sands of the Ganges.

Then the whole garden fell silent, and only the hymn was heard: Where is the homeland before birth, and where does one go after death? Realize early the formless body (the true nature that is neither born nor destroyed)—do not let fine years pass empty-handed. Investigate both life and death; this great matter of karmic affinity is no small affair. Before you die, first let go of attachment as if already dead (meaning to gather in the acquired mind of later life, not to seek death)—the spark of life is found by probing within that “death.” It is not by the water nor in the mountains; why search northwest or southeast? Look—it is not outside yourself, but within the square inch of the heart. Enter the energy pass (xuan guan, the pivot where body and mind unite in inner cultivation) through precepts, concentration, and wisdom; do not scatter your effort in two or three directions. With one mind grasp only life and death, even iron walls and bronze ramparts are not hard to break. When you truly practice, it is bitter and hard, like a boat on a shoal; then suddenly the tide rises and the wind is fair, and in an instant you cross Nine Dragons Bay. Once you know what is real, travel by night; when you reach the end, even what you leaned on is gone. Empty and alone you cultivate, neither hungry nor thirsty, sharing long life with heaven and earth.

Twenty-one: The merit of this practice is complete and full.

Fellow disciples! The void is vast and boundless; the gate of precepts and samadhi (holding precepts and entering concentration) is the ladder that ascends to heaven. The sea of suffering stretches without end; the light of wisdom is the vessel that crosses it. If you do not step forward and walk, you cannot reach a journey of ninety thousand li; if you do not straighten your spine and truly practice, you may struggle through countless kalpas without hearing the true Dharma. If cultivation is not meticulous and resolve is not firm, how can merit and practice ever be complete? Fellow disciples, let not a single thought in the mind slip away or leak out, and the primordial Qi (xian tian zhi qi) in the body will naturally fill and flow in harmony. Only when virtue is enough to move ghosts and spirits can one escape the retribution of samsara (the unending cycle of birth and death); only when the Great Dao communicates with heaven and earth can one walk out of the path of life and death. When you reach the far shore of the Great Dao, one turn of the body is home; when you enter deeply into xiyi (the subtle realm beyond sight and hearing), in an instant you return to your original face. Fellow disciples, who can hold on to deathlessness? Where has anyone seen long life as we imagine it? So-called deathlessness is not this ordinary fleshly body; so-called longevity is not something in outer form. Where is Peng Zu now? Yet Yan Hui still exists across ten thousand kalpas. What does not die is my Dharma body (the truth-body beyond the flesh); what lives long is my Yuan Qi (primordial vital energy). Even the Tathagata (the Buddha) has a time of quiescence—that is entering nirvana (the still realm of liberation); even Lao Dan (Laozi) has a day of ascension—that is ascending to the heaven of Great Cinnabar in the upper realms. Where the Dao remains, the person remains; where the Dharma remains, the body is as if still present. To die yet not be forgotten—this is longevity: a name through ten thousand kalpas that does not decay, a name that cannot be named; to live yet not cling to possessing form—this is a sign through hundreds of generations that is not harmed, a form without form. As many sages and worthies as the sands of the Ganges—countless— which of them did not pass through this xuanguan (the crucial gate of cultivating nature and life)? Immortals and buddhas beyond thought and words—which of them did not come and go on this great road? The highway to heaven is clear and plain, yet the deluded do not believe; the Buddha-land is pure and still, yet the obstacles of ordinary people are hard to remove.

It is merely that one's blessings are thin and one's sins deep—though one has eyes, one is as blind; many people carry heavy karmic debts and thick karmic obstructions, and though alive, they are no different from the dead. Dragging the flesh about in coming and going, they differ from beasts only in being able to speak; sleeping by day and resting by night, they fall short even of plants and trees that can raise their stems and spread their branches. Once one's allotted lifespan is exhausted, ghosts come to summon one away—whether or not one is a Quanzhen Daoist (a cultivator of the Quanzhen lineage); when the record of sins is checked not a single character is wrong, one is still judged an unvirtuous wrongdoer.

Friends! All people must die; one need only die in the right place: clean and pure, spotless and clear, coming and going at ease, unbound by constraint. All people must part; one need only part with skill: clear and bright, free and unattached, transforming in roundness and passing through the unfathomable. Before departing, one announces it to the multitude; when the hour arrives, one releases one's grip and goes. Bare and naked, the infant form appears (the appearance of the original spirit forming pure Yang within internal alchemy); on the crown, vast Qi and auspicious light in myriad rays; round and full, one transforms into the wondrous form of ascension—mid-air, colored clouds and white cranes soaring high. Amid such immortal scenes, the original spirit returns directly to pure emptiness; within a sheet of auspicious light, the true bones are entrusted to the cave mansion (the grotto-heaven where immortals dwell). What a great man ought to do is now complete. On earth one leaves an immortal name; in the world one bequeaths a Daoist teaching, so that after a thousand or ten thousand years people will know there was such a person. This is what "to die yet not perish is called longevity" means: though the body dies, the Dao and spirit do not perish—that alone is called longevity. If after countless kalpas this Dao can still be practiced, that is the body of great perfection, great merit, and great blessing.

Friends, nature and life are in your own hands; telling others is of no use. If you do not cultivate yourself, others cannot necessarily do it for you; the arising and ceasing of thoughts—you cannot necessarily grasp them; vain imaginings and selfish desires—you cannot necessarily sweep them clean; deep attachment to love and bonds—you cannot necessarily let them go; the formless Dharma-body—you cannot necessarily recognize it clearly; precepts and ritual rules—you cannot necessarily follow them; afflictions and ignorance—you cannot necessarily extinguish them; worldly habits accumulated over time—you cannot necessarily dissolve them; layer upon layer of obstacles—you cannot necessarily remove them; true words and wondrous methods—you cannot necessarily abide by them; the karma of sin and blessing—you cannot necessarily believe in them.

Afflictions and fundamental ignorance (avidyā) may not be extinguished; worldly ties and long-ingrained habits may not be dissolved; layer upon layer of obstacles may not be removed. True words and wondrous methods may not be followed; the law of karma and retribution may not be believed; ordinary thoughts and worldly feelings may not be forgotten. If vows cling to outward appearances (zhuóxiàng—fixating the heart on visible forms and events), they may not be emptied; heterodox paths may not be distinguished from the true Way; forced, artificial illusions may not be seen through. One affair after another may not be handled rightly; one level of attainment after another may not be transcended. perfected beings and clear-eyed teachers (those who have reached the end of cultivation and can guide others) may not be found; the Great Dao in the void may not be entered. In this lifetime, you disciples may not be saved; the vows you first made may not be fulfilled.

Disciples, why is this? It is because you who have received the precepts (jièzǐ) are arrogant and self-important (gònggāo wǒmàn) and cannot be taught; gentle words do not move you; doubt and disbelief in the heart block awakening; heavy karmic obstruction cannot be pulled out; anger and slander cannot be stopped; you love flattery and others cannot prevail against you; stubborn, violent tempers cannot be turned; cunning and scheming cannot be dropped; loyal, bitter counsel does not enter the mind; stupor and delusion cannot be broken; lack of insight (no eye, no pearl) leaves you beyond pointing; wild, improper conduct cannot be restrained; sickness and suffering cannot be cured; disasters brought by fate cannot be pardoned. When a person has already fallen into fixed destiny and tribulation, neither instruction nor forgiveness avails. The wheel of rebirth and karmic retribution will not let go; royal law and underworld punishment cannot be avoided; the knife mountains and sword trees (hellish realms of blades and blades on trees) will not spare you. The ferry of compassion and the raft of wisdom cannot carry you across; the golden elixir and precious treasure (the supreme fruit of internal alchemy) cannot be entrusted to you; even if there were heavenly secrets, they could not turn you around; even if there were spiritual powers, they could not save you.

Disciples, only when you truly set a bitter resolve and practice bitter discipline, hold the precepts without the slightest breach, seek deeper stillness within stillness (dìng), and are single-minded in sincerity with no second heart—only then is it truly turning the heart toward the Dao (huīxīn xiàngdào). Disciples, once the heart turns toward the Dao, repentance by itself can wash away karmic guilt.

By taking refuge in and upholding the Great Dao, every kind of entanglement can naturally be severed. You can draw near to the lofty, clear void of the celestial realm, and the darkness of the underworld will likewise be illumined by light. If you turn your heart toward the Dao, faults can be washed clean through repentance.

Amid great calamities, you can naturally escape the cycle of birth and death; though life and death are impermanent, the handle of cultivation can stand firm and clear. You can unite heart with heart with the Limitless Dao—the supreme, all-encompassing fundamental Way—and realize the supreme dharmakaya, the pure true body, with perfect clarity. Boundless merit can be received in peace, and countless beings can be liberated one by one. Vast vows can be fulfilled to depth and completeness, and your lifespan can endure as long as heaven and earth.

With an illumined mind, obstructions open by themselves; with sincere faith, even metal and stone can be pierced; with an empty mind, not a speck of defilement can cling; with steadfast perseverance, no demon can steal you away; with a kind heart, grievances and karmic evil naturally dissolve; with a true heart, demonic obstructers cannot be provoked.

With an illumined mind, you can stand equal to sages and naturally attain thorough understanding; with a resolved mind, you can enter the rank of immortals and buddhas and naturally awaken completely; with an empty mind, you can behold subtle principle and naturally penetrate deeply; with a clarified mind, you can recognize the subtle form and naturally open wisdom; with a mind that mirrors, you can penetrate primordial emptiness—the unstained natural empty realm—and naturally accord in silent union; with a settled mind, you can comprehend birth and death and naturally flow without obstruction; with a balanced mind, even facing King Yama, lord of the dead, you bear no karmic guilt; with an impartial heart, you can face ghosts and spirits without deceit; with an upright mind, you can subdue monsters and naturally possess radiance; with a sincere heart, you can awe heterodox demons and wisdom naturally increases.

When the heart holds the spirit of giving, one draws near to the heavenly powers and naturally possesses a vast power of vow. When it holds compassion, even the stubborn and dull can be transformed, and universal shelter follows naturally. When it holds dignity, what is fierce can be subdued, and one is naturally without fear. When it holds forbearance, nothing need be rejected, and the heart’s capacity naturally grows broad. When it holds the empty heart—the mind that does not cling to things—no form can be retained, and one naturally enters the realm of awakened awareness. When it holds the heart of forgetting—the mind that sets aside discrimination and calculation—forms are no longer split into opposites, and naturally there is no divide between self and other. When it holds the sincere, caring heart, there is no one who cannot be understood, and one naturally can deliver beings. When it holds no-mind—the mind that does not fix on anything—no realm need be clung to, and one naturally moves with full flexibility and integration. When it holds the all-accommodating, penetrating heart, even the three realms (desire, form, and formlessness) cannot bind one, and naturally there is no obstruction. When it holds the heart that benefits and rescues others, no ordeal cannot be passed through. When it holds purity and stillness, one can abide in the boundless, and naturally reach the great perfection of the path.

Disciples, my teaching today is finished and this dharma gathering is complete. I only reflect that you, father and son, came up the mountain to practice together: the father cannot transmit the Way to the son in his place, nor can the son stand in for the father. Though you walk the same path, each alone knows his own cold and warmth; each must take his own steps forward or back. Thus teaching has no single fixed method—it is merely prescribing for the illness and giving medicine to match the symptoms. When the illness is gone and the signs cleared, there is no need to keep the prescription or keep taking the medicine. It is like crossing a river: you must use a boat, but once on the shore you should not keep thinking about that boat. It is like a needle threading cloth: when the garment is sewn, you need not hunt for needle and thread again. Do not add legs to the snake, and do not part the grass looking for a snake.

Everyone must strive forward on their own and honestly keep the precepts (the rules by which Daoism disciplines body and mind) strictly. Cultivate until you dwell within the precepts yet forget their outward form, and beyond the precepts already given impose even stricter demands on yourself. When practice deepens and the “fire-timing” (the right moment and intensity in cultivation) arrives, the patriarchs will naturally lift you up and connect you with the true Dao. You must not lack your own judgment, leaning only on your master or fellow cultivators, clinging to names and appearances, and blindly following others’ footsteps year after year. You must also set your heart firm, free of doubt, single-minded to the end without regret. When the fire-timing is complete, have you not heard that Heaven does not fail the earnest heart? The Great Dao is originally still and unmoving; if a person can respond with sincerity, he can resonate with it. Since you are willing to set forth a fierce resolve for the Dao, going straight ahead without turning back, your aspiration is lofty—you are truly seed-material in the Daoist lineage who can carry practice forward.

Patriarch Qiu (Qiu Chuji) left behind a “silent gatha” not lightly shown to others; today I expound it for you—you must listen with full attention. The gatha’s meaning: birth and death are impermanent; you must awaken for yourself. You must let worldly attachments die completely, no longer even clinging to family. Do not entrust yourself to others; even immortals must save themselves. Do not linger in the six dusts (form, sound, scent, taste, touch, and dharmas) or the six consciousnesses (the discriminations of eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind), nor depend on any single method—yet let the mind always abide at ease. What is called permanent is impermanent; abiding in permanence to the end is also nothing to abide in. Though you know how to cultivate causes without confusion, causes and conditions are innumerable from the start. On the causal ground penetrate that self-nature is originally empty; when in the fruit you awaken to emptiness, who is still there to reflect or dwell? From now cut off the pivot of birth and death; from here cancel the ledger of rebirth. If anyone seeks authentic practice according to the precepts, the celestial spirits will silently know in the hidden. The heart-method of Longmen (the mind-ground teaching of the Longmen lineage) originally has no method to grasp; here it is only spoken plainly in bitter words as one whole teaching. Do not cling dead to this method—you must sweep it away as well before you see the true point of the gatha. Ponder carefully what I say about the Dharma-body (the true body of the Dao): empty space is a treasury of countless jewels. When thought moves, they pour forth without end; the treasury of the Dao is within the body and can extend blessing. Mind and Dharma interpenetrate—Dharma is mind; Dharma and mind have no end—thereby you gain lasting liberation.

The above is the end of the Biyuan Tanyin (Platform Sutra of the Jade Garden). “Contemplating the primordial mechanism” means to investigate and awaken to the fundamental pivot of the Great Dao.

Fellow practitioners, this void clarity that is never dimmed or drowsy is my Original Fate True Person (yuanming zhenren)—the true nature and life I was born with. How could such a thing be easy to see?

Sages, immortals, buddhas, and patriarchs from ancient times to the present have sat facing walls for nine years, or shut themselves in for six years of meditation, observing periods such as "three threes" and "seven sevens" in arduous inquiry. Some have traveled famous mountains, wandered among grotto-heavens and blessed lands, sought teachers and visited friends, listened to scriptures and asked about the Way, practiced diligently and endured hardship, and accumulated merit widely. All this cultivation serves one great matter: one's own birth, death, nature, and life—not knowing where one came from or where one goes after death, only drifting and sinking in the wheel of rebirth. Therefore they vowed to establish merit and persisted in practice.

Some take cutting off thoughts and forgetting desire as the method of leaving the world, sitting for three or five years and wearing out many meditation cushions—yet have they truly cut off a single thought or forgotten desire for a moment? This does not count as "two fives returning to ten" (yin-yang and five-phase qi returning to completion). Some take smelting lead and refining mercury as the method of leaving the world, timing their work to "Morning Tun, Evening Meng," withdrawing talismans and advancing fire—yet have they truly seen jade fluid sevenfold return or golden fluid ninefold restoration? Often they just grasp that bit of true mechanism and then let it slip away in an instant.

Others practice visualization and inwardly salute the Three Heavens Emperors; others perform liturgies of refinement and salvation for the dead in the nine underworlds; others summon spirits and generals, wear talismans and registers, and call themselves True Persons; others raise qi to open the passes and circulate essence, calling it wondrous Dao; others recite scriptures and bow in worship with great effort; others compound elixirs to treat illness and sores; others practice ingestion hoping to ascend; others imitate yin-yang in union practices; others breathe like bellows in the cauldron, using spirit to move true lead, hoping to extend life and receive fate; others add and withdraw sand and fire in the furnace, refining substances to establish merit and give alms; still others, their bodies already broken, cling to the golden elixir Way, waiting only to meet someone with merit to pass it on.

Some people have shallow karmic roots yet insist on hard-practicing difficult methods, only to let go at the cliff’s edge and abandon the path. Anyone who obscures their own nature and takes illusory delusion for cultivation is following side paths—methods that are not the true way.

Friends: to sever delusion and forget emotional attachment, you must first penetrate where thoughts arise and where feelings come from—grasp it firmly, hold it steady, recognize it truly, and point to it substantively—only then apply yourself to severing and forgetting. But I ask: what exactly is it that can grasp, hold, recognize, point, act, sever delusion, and forget attachment? However hard you sever and forget, even if you wear through your meditation cushion, thought is still thought and feeling is still feeling.

Assembly: using thought to cut off thought is “placing a head on top of a head”; using emotion to forget emotion is “catching the thief and then releasing the thief.” Better to forget even the method of forgetting attachment, and to cut off even the method of severing thought—drop both devices at once and enter the gate of manifold mystery (zhong miao zhi men); that is the teaching of the supreme path.

Friends: when I use a method to sever delusion, I do not see that the method itself is thought; when I use a method to forget attachment, I do not see that the method itself is the seed of emotion. Assembly: rather than severing delusion by force, let thought sever itself; rather than forgetting attachment by force, let feeling dissolve on its own—this is “seeking others is not as good as seeking oneself.”

Those who talk of “cooking lead and refining mercury” (neidan imagery for refining essence and breath), fuss over adding and reducing fire phases, and match everything to hexagram lines and changing yao—they tear apart the undifferentiated unity of Taiji (Supreme Ultimate). They treat provisional names as things you can actually perform, and metaphors as concrete practice; they prattle about the three fields (upper, middle, and lower Dantian), guess blindly at Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), and tangle themselves in the mechanisms of the seven emotions and the hubs of the nine orifices.

Some people take the scripture’s “seven,” “nine,” “return,” and “restore” and fix them as seven times and nine times, seven rounds and nine rounds, seven stages and nine stages, seven years and nine years, or seven revolutions and nine revolutions. One person draws charts; another displays images; someone else stiffens the spine and invokes Niwan (the upper dantian at the crown), Weilü (the base of the spine), dantian, Jiangshi (the heart region, also called Jianggong), Huangting, and Huachi (where saliva wells in the mouth)—and on top of that, every method of water rising and fire descending, nurturing warmth, “bathing,” and sealing and fixing. Today it is Kan-Li union (water and fire meeting); tomorrow Di-Tian Tai (Heaven and Earth in mutual harmony); the day after, hun and po in union. This year they say they have formed such-and-such an “infant” (the neidan metaphor for the condensed pre-heaven qi); next year it is still the same “infant.” Drag it out nine years, and they remain an old man who does not know life from death and keeps piling up karma.

They do not know where they went wrong. They shake their heads, count on their fingers, and tell outsiders nonsense: “On such-and-such a day I formed the sacred embryo; the fire phases of nurturing were correct; the timing of bathing was not off—so why, when the embryo was complete, did I become a damned old sinner? Why, after ten months in the womb, can I not deliver an infant? It must be that you and I are thin in merit and heavy in sin, and the spirits will not allow accomplishment.” They clutch their bellies, set their old faces in a mask, stare wide-eyed, and shed crocodile tears.

Understand this: people of such low capacity and dull wit do not recognize their own mind or understand their own nature (xing). They are nothing but a mass of benighted karmic obstruction—how could they grasp the principle? Still, this person does have a will to rise; they are only dazed and cannot wake to the opportunity to ascend.

The jing and qi in your body are originally the pre-heaven yuanqi and yuanjing—treasures that neither increase nor decrease. If you manipulate them, you will not gain a scrap more; if you leave them alone, you will not lose a scrap. This empty-yet-lucid, never-dimmed true origin is the yuanshen (original spirit). Since it is called yuanshen, why speak again of an “infant”? For countless kalpas your offenses have not been cleared, your obstructions not removed, the source of mind not purified—and the root of nature is the same. Whether you manipulate it or not, you will not see it shrink. This empty, lucid, undimmed true origin is the yuanshen.

Since it is already called the Primordial Spirit (yuanshen—the original spirit inherent in you from birth), why must one still talk about an “infant”? For kalpas beyond count, your karmic burdens have not been lifted, your hindrances not cleared, the wellspring of mind not yet pure, the root of nature not yet bright. Rather than repent in good time, refine your character, and seek a teacher to awaken to the Dao, you squander a heart that could serve what is real on what is hollow, and pour finite days into waiting for an infant with no form and no trace—what is that for?

Friends, that in you which can tell good from evil, right from wrong, orthodox from heterodox, birth from extinction, self from other, true from false—that is what is meant by the infant. Yet this infant does not from the first take good and evil, right and wrong, and the like as fixed objects. It attaches to no appearance of its own; it only stirs with circumstances, wisdom arises from the heart, and from wisdom comes knowing: from good, evil is known; from right, wrong; from orthodox, heterodox; from birth, extinction; from self, other; from true, false. It has no mark of “I,” yet it is not a blank void—it is simply this spark in the world that perceives, moves, and handles the ten thousand affairs. If one speaks of the primordial unity of Taiji (Taiji hunyuan—the undivided whole before Yin and Yang split), even this knowing can be folded into non-knowing. Still, this knowing is innate knowing (liangzhi); in Buddhism it is the good-knowing mind, in Daoism the infant and the Primordial Spirit. In short, friends, it is one point of nature that is empty, alert, and never obscured (xuling bumei—the vacant, luminous essence that does not fall dim). You only see Daoists enter the retreat chamber (ru yuan—the sealed room for quiet cultivation) to sit, speak of carrying the embryo (in Neidan, nurturing the true self as in pregnancy), and after ten months inside—have you ever seen a Daoist actually produce an infant, take bodily form, and emit light?

People of this sort, before entering the circular meditation chamber (the quiet room used for Daoist seclusion and seated meditation), do not understand the state of heaven and earth, ghosts and spirits, or yin and yang; they do not know human fortune and misfortune, future good and ill, or their own birth year and day of death. After leaving seclusion, they still know nothing. They cannot even clarify their own life and death, cannot save themselves—how then could they save others? With their own life and death unclear, fortune and misfortune unknown, gain and loss uncomprehended, they remain under the governance of ghosts and spirits and the bonds of heaven and earth; in life they are like ordinary people, and in death no different from common folk: in life they suffer for food and clothing as others do, and after death they are buried and return to decay. To enter the chamber and sit in meditation like this—is it not pointless?

Everyone: first let the deluded mind die and be forgotten, then enter the chamber; first cut off the entanglements of love and desire, then sit in meditation. When lustful thoughts long cease, kidney qi is full, and true lead (yuan jing and yuan qi in the kidneys in neidan) rises. When angry thoughts long cease, the mind is empty and still, and true mercury (yuanshen in the heart in neidan) descends. When eating and drinking are regulated in season, the spleen is strong, and mercury and lead can be sealed and held firm. When desire is empty, the lungs are moist; when the mind is settled, the liver flourishes; when kidney water is abundant, the eyes are bright and the pupils dark as lacquer. When heart fire is extinguished, the mouth fills with fluid, and swallowing is like sweet fine wine. When hun is clear and bright and liver qi flows, sinews and bones feel light. When po is stable and lung fluid runs clear, beard and hair stay black. When spleen is robust and stomach harmonious, tongue and throat are clear, and the voice rings. When orifices are open and blood and qi flourish, the ears hear keenly; when qi is strong and spirit whole, the eyes see clearly. Each of the five viscera holds its proper place, and myriad illnesses retreat; flavors are plain, and upright qi arises. Guiding and pulling in accord with the four seasons and eight nodes (moving the limbs and regulating breath by the solar terms)—wind, cold, heat, and damp cannot harm. Guarding against the six desires and seven emotions, shedding habits and subduing the deluded mind, demons and evil spirits cannot intrude. Seeking the Great Dao, the conscience appears and true nature is clear; awakening to suchness (one’s original true nature), the form body (flesh and blood) is seen as empty, and the dharma body (the body realized in cultivation) appears. First save yourself, then save others—in the end you are still saving yourself. Everyone, only at this stage have you barely taken the first step through the gate.

At this stage, one enters the yuanshi (the quiet chamber for closed retreat and seated meditation) and settles in stillness and purity. Upward one can reach Heaven; downward one can penetrate Earth. The states of ghosts and spirits and the pivot of Heaven and Earth’s turning—all their opening and closing lie within a single breath in and out; the work of creation does not extend beyond one’s own palm. Disciples, at this point you have only just crossed the threshold and taken the first step within the gate. All of this comes from keeping precepts and entering ding (meditative absorption). Thus one enters the retreat chamber still in an ordinary mortal body; upon leaving it one has become a sheng ti fa shen (the pure body of accomplishment in practice). When the Great Dao is clear, the horizon of vision rises and one sees through the illusory nature of all yinyuan (causes and conditions). When one has a staff to lean on (here: the true Dharma and settled ding one can rely on), the heart expands wide enough to embrace Heaven and Earth within emptiness. Before the human mind has stirred a thought, one already knows; before things have arrived, one has already seen through them. Only then can one be said to have the liu tong (the six penetrations: divine eye, divine ear, knowledge of others’ minds, knowledge of past lives, miraculous power, and exhaustion of outflows)—wisdom without end. All heavenly mo (demons/obstacles) come to bow in submission and protect one in secret; wa dao (heterodox paths) in the ten directions all take refuge and feel reverent awe. Within a mustard seed (jiezi) one can hold Xumi Shan (Mount Sumeru, standing for the loftiest peak) without feeling it too large; within a single grain of millet one can conceal the ten directions of the world without knowing it. Extended outward, the great earth and rivers are free for one’s wandering; gathered inward, motes of dust and grains of rice can be settled by one’s will. Disciples, on this upward path of wuwei (non-action) and utmost truth in the wondrous Dao, the first priority is to investigate subtle principle and penetrate the secrets of Heaven. Therefore you must set aside, for the time being, blind practice and empty sitting; firing lead and refining mercury (pengqian lian gong—external waidan alchemy); visualization and contemplation; liandu jiyou (salvation rites for souls in the dark); receiving office and fulu (talismans and registers); raising qi and fanning with a fan; chanting scriptures and reciting litanies; compounding medicines and burning straw; ingesting drugs and gathering herbs; yin-yang furnace and cauldron—all these many things that bring no real benefit and are not urgent. You must earnestly straighten the heart, vow before Heaven, and swear: from today until the future, may I soon clarify the hinge of coming and going in life and death, be freed from the suffering of lunhui (wheel of rebirth), leave behind clinging to various one-sided views, and be able to hear the wondrous Dao. Ah!

This phrase "leaving all kinds of edges" speaks of the heart of vow-making: from this day forward until the future, one only wishes to soon grasp the key to birth and death, coming and going—to be freed from the suffering of cyclic rebirth and death, to leave behind every sort of partial extreme, and to be able to hear the subtle Great Dao. Ah! This "leaving all kinds of edges" truly tells you plainly that it is precisely the great skillful gate of investigating refined principle and penetrating the secrets of heaven (the convenient entryway for aligning with the correct path). Friends, what are "all kinds of edges"? Blind sitting meditation, reckless cultivation, "cooking lead and refining mercury" (alchemical side practices that use lead and mercury as metaphors), and every sort of heterodox path. What is meant by "edge"? These side paths are not centered and not upright—like a table that always stays at the four edges and never enters the center; even if you reach the center, you still cannot leave the table. Know this: only when you leave the table do you find the Great Dao in empty space; if you cannot leave the table, you are still dealing with things, not the Dao—is this not precisely "edge"? Edge means partiality, crooked paths, boundaries, and cliffs. What is partial is not centered; what is crooked is not upright. Where there are territorial limits, there cannot be vastness; where there are cliff edges, there cannot be boundlessness. Clinging to this sack of flesh (the physical body), treating it as an ancient cypress or pine lasting ten thousand generations, you instead trap the host (your original true nature) alive; you abandon the lamp to chase fire, cherish the false and discard the true—is this not falling to one side? Even if you succeed in cultivation, you are at most a self-liberated one (someone who cares only for their own release)—you have not yet seen your true nature; even with a fruit rank of attainment, when merit is exhausted you still enter rebirth and cannot transcend the Three Realms (desire realm, form realm, formless realm). What benefit is that to sentient beings? Friends, becoming an immortal or a buddha, a sage or a worthy—all of it lies in renouncing self to follow others, in making vast vows for the sake of saving sentient beings. These people today who know only sitting meditation cannot even save themselves—how could they save the multitude? This is what is called a self-liberated one; how have they ever understood the Great Dao or the immeasurable salvation of others? Trapped in edge-bound cultivation—truly pitiable.

The True Lord (an immortal who has attained the Dao) spoke the heart of cultivation in verse, teaching the assembly to set aside the mind that cares only for itself and also to release one-sided, partial methods—so that heterodox paths (deviations from the correct way) may return to the center, and false teachings may turn back to the true teaching. The bounded earth must be opened until nothing blocks it; the vast world must expand until it reaches heaven and earth; ditches with banks and edges must be widened until they are shoreless; the unfathomable Dharmakaya (the body of the Dao) must be released until there is no distinction between self and other. The scripture says, “Look and you do not see me; listen and you do not hear me; leave behind all partial views—this is called the subtle Dao (the wondrous Great Dao).” That is exactly what is meant here.

For the assembly to penetrate this, they must first open the heart-mind. Where does life come from? Where does one go after death? Draw near to an eminent teacher who attained the Dao early, and to wise, sincere friends; broadly nurture good intent and investigate to the end. At birth a person is like a bowl of tea: bound by form, flavor already mingles in the water; poured into the Eastern Ocean it disperses into towering waves and surging billows. If you seek your own root source, the tea flavor is only something added later; if you say it is simply water, color and appearance have already appeared. Yet when you reach into this ocean, the root source dwells within it—what then is my root source? Reflect deeply until looking yields nothing seen and listening yields nothing heard. When effort accumulates over time, the breast-mind one day suddenly opens wide, the eye of insight clears at once, you see your original face, understand the subtle workings of heaven, and this one point of true nature appears—then you trust that the Great Dao has never failed anyone.

Friends, the sages, immortals, and buddhas ascended long ago. To see their heart, first clarify their principle; once principle is clear, you can awaken to their method and practice their conduct; in practicing their conduct, you yourself become the body of sage, immortal, and buddha. Where is the heart of sages, immortals, and buddhas? It is in each person’s own square-inch platform (the field of the heart-mind).

When you awaken to the teaching of sages, immortals, and Buddhas, you can grasp their methods and then do what they do. When you can accomplish these things, you yourself are a person in the same line as sages, immortals, and Buddhas.

Disciples: Where is the heart-mind of sages, immortals, and Buddhas? It is only in each person’s square-inch platform—the field of the heart (xinfang). Where is their teaching? Right before each of you. Where are their methods? In the classics, histories, and collected writings. What they do does not step outside the norms of the world; it lies in the ordinary affairs of human relations. The bodies of sages, immortals, and Buddhas depend on the heart-minds of sages, immortals, and Buddhas.

If you know that the heart-mind of sages, immortals, and Buddhas is in your own square-inch field, you can understand their teaching; understanding their teaching, you can awaken to their methods; awakening to their methods, you can carry out their practice. When the teaching is understood, the right path is present; when the methods are awakened to, all conditions can be seen clearly; when the practice is carried out, merit is established, the pivot of creation (tianji) never ceases, and you endure through myriad kalpas.

You should know that such a person already has the substance of spirit-power and wisdom belonging to sages, immortals, and Buddhas—that is, the body of a sage, immortal, or Buddha.

Disciples: Where do you begin in contemplative practice? You must first receive the Precepts of Initial Truth (Chuzhen jie)—the preliminary precepts for entering the path—subdue body and mind, and keep the square inch from disorder; then you can see the heart-mind of sages, immortals, and Buddhas. Next receive the Precepts of the Middle Ultimate (Zhongji jie), unfold the numinous nature, and open the critical pass (xuanguan) of inner work; then you can understand the teaching of sages, immortals, and Buddhas. Then receive the Precepts of the Celestial Immortal (Tianxian jie), study subtle meaning until wisdom is rounded and penetrating; then you can thread through the Dao of sages, immortals, and Buddhas. After that you are liberated without obstruction—round or square as needed, applying it freely.

Then one is liberated and at ease, without obstruction: round or square, large or small, moving or still, forward or backward, living or dying, bending or stretching, going out or entering in. One may become a sage or a worthy, attain immortality, or realize Buddhahood. One may enter the four modes of birth (womb, egg, moisture, metamorphosis), pass through the six paths (heaven, humanity, asuras, animals, hungry ghosts, hell), ascend to the celestial palaces or descend to the underworld. According to place and audience, one teaches and saves beings across countless kalpas. Transformations cannot be foretold; one appears in person to preach. Like a boundless mirror reflecting every shape and shadow, each containing the other. Thus one performs the work of sages, worthies, immortals, and buddhas; embodies their bodies; and realizes their fruition. Everyone, at this stage, is called having investigated the subtle principle and awakened to heaven’s secret.

Long ago the Yellow Emperor lost the xuanzhu—the mysterious pearl, a metaphor for the supreme Dao and original nature, hence not called a bright pearl—in Chishui, the Red Water. He sent Lìzhū to search; Lìzhū could not find it. He sent Qìgòu; Qìgòu could not find it either. Then he sent Wǎngxiàng, and Wǎngxiàng obtained it. Lìzhū takes the sense of “Lì Palace crimson”: the postnatal fleshy heart of ordinary people, so it cannot find the pearl—like those today who seek only through biased views in the mind. Qìgòu points to those who love purity, keep clean mouth and body, and rely on fasting and abstinence; seeking with that mind also fails to obtain it. Why could Wǎngxiàng succeed? Everyone: wǎng means “without,” xiàng means form and color; wǎngxiàng is without form and without image. That is why it is not called a bright pearl but xuanzhu, the mysterious pearl. As the supreme sage Confucius said: “What is above form is called Dao; what is below form is called vessel or implement.” The Supreme Old Lord also said: “Look inward at the mind—the mind has no mind; look outward at form—form has no form.” Everyone, the highest principle has always been true suchness—the intrinsic face of reality as it truly is.

Sages, worthies, immortals, and Buddhas all sustain their practice by not clinging to outward form. If one cultivates while clinging to form, it is like the Yellow Emperor (Huangdi), who relied on cleverness and kept vegetarian fasts, hoping thereby to obtain the Pearl of Mystery (the symbol of the great Dao). Everyone! When the Yellow Emperor lost the Pearl of Mystery, it was only through Wangxiang (the “no-mind, no-form” messenger in Zhuangzi’s parable) that he recovered it; likewise, ordinary people who probe subtle principle can obtain it only in no-mind. Everyone, I have already spoken the heavenly secret to the full and pointed out the mind seal (the heart-to-heart transmission). You must examine yourselves carefully and guard strictly: once the Pearl of Mystery in this Red Water (where the pearl was lost in the parable) is lost, who knows where it can be found again.

He then had his disciples bow in reverence and take refuge, and listen to this gatha: Not even ten thousand volumes of immortal scriptures can say it all; one direct pointing has already exhausted the teaching. I urge you not to juggle many methods—the Dao is in the heart, not in books. Clinging to form while seeking mystery only multiplies stray thoughts; holding the mind while sitting in meditation can turn sitting into a demonic obstacle. How many people deliberately take crooked paths, helpless though the right way stands before them. The true person is originally without phase and without form; this heavenly secret is present everywhere. Do not merely grope in the dark before your eyes, and do not abandon the main road for side gates.

At that time Kunyangzi (preceptor of transmission of precepts in the Longmen [Dragon Gate] lineage), together with the assembly, completed the dedication of merit, and instructed his disciple Shi Shouping to compile it into a volume, and asked the preceptor (the master who confers precepts—not a later-day litigator) to compose an introductory text to guide later students. The preceptor said: There is no need. You need only choose suitable people and pass it on from hand to hand; after one hundred and seventy years it may be edited into the Biyuan Tanshjing (Platform Sutra of the Jade Garden).

Preface to Qiyunshan Wuyuanzi’s Discussions, Difficulties, and Confirmations on Cultivating Truth: The Dao transmitted by Fuxi (the August Ancestor) is remote and profound. In antiquity the Fire Record was said to comprise six hundred chapters; later it degenerated into something used only for seeking luck and avoiding misfortune and coping with worldly affairs. In the Eastern Han, the true person Wei Boyang appeared; relying on the essential meaning of the Yijing (Book of Changes), he wrote the Cantong qi (Triplex Unity), and Xu Congshi and others transmitted and expounded it thereafter.

Fuxi (the legendary sage king said to have first created the Bagua) transmitted the Great Dao, but it has long since receded beyond reach, its intent profound and hard to fathom. The six hundred chapters of the Huoji (Fire Records) spoken of in ancient elixir scriptures were later degraded into tools meant merely for seeking good fortune, avoiding calamity, and handling worldly affairs. In the Eastern Han, the true adept Wei Boyang appeared and, grounding his work in the subtle meaning of the Yijing, wrote the Cantong qi (the foundational classic of elixir practice, joining the Zhouyi, Huang-Lao teaching, and the alchemical furnace). Xu Congshi and others added commentaries, and only then did Huang-Lao elixir learning stand out in the world. From Han and Jin onward, people mostly grasped the coarse and missed the fine; it flowed into peripheral methods of “gathering and extracting” (practices that abandon the orthodox internal elixir path and seek from outside), and the harm has continued to this day.

Wuyuanzi of Qiyun Mountain (in present-day Gansu), surname Liu, given name Yiming, entered the Dao from Confucian study. For decades he read widely, exhaustively investigated principle, and fully realized his nature, penetrating from inquiry and awakening into the “Three Yi” (Lianshan, Guicang, and Zhouyi). He wrote thirteen cases of books, four of which treat the Yi. There is also one case of Daodejing Huiyao, one of Canwu Zhizhi, four of Xiyou Yuanzhi, one of Zhinanzhen, one of Huixin Ji, and three kinds of Zhinan combined into one case. I know these titles only and have not yet seen the books.

In the first month of this year, Bao Sheng of Xin’an (the Shexian area in present-day Anhui), given name Lanpu, style Gaoting, sobriquet Kunfeng, religious name Yangyong, had long studied the arcane arts. Kong Zhaopu passed the books to him and taught the essentials of jiao (union), cai (gathering the medicine), choutian (adding and withdrawing), jie (condensation), and yuan (completion)—the principles of yin-yang union, gathering the medicine, regulating the fire phases, and condensing the elixir in internal alchemy. He practiced and transmitted in this lineage for some time. Because I had met a perfected person (one who had attained the Dao), he humbled himself to serve me for nearly six years. On this day he brought out the complete Xiuzhen Biannan (Discriminating Difficulties in Cultivating Truth) by Wuyuanzi for me to verify, and only then could I examine it back and forth. This book is one volume of Wuyuanzi’s collected works, printed with funds raised by Jiao Shi Chun, abbot of Changchun Guan in Hubei and lüshi (a senior in charge of precepts in the Daoist tradition). It has two fascicles, upper and lower, with a preface by Cui at the head. The preface says that the first part of the book is concise in wording yet complete in doctrine, so that students may first recognize the correct path and not be misled by licentious or heterodox talk into peripheral byways that ruin the great matter of life and cultivation (refining nature and refining life). Therefore the more plain the language, the clearer the Dao appears; even someone with only a little reading who roughly knows the characters can follow the trail inward, from shallow to deep. It is truly the most essential book for beginners. Cui understood this well and vowed to print this work first, then gradually print the author’s entire corpus, so his wish might be fulfilled.

The merit of Cui in upholding the Dao and continuing the lineage was twice that of Wuyuanzi (Liu Yiming’s Daoist name). Without Cui’s engraving and printing, how could this book have spread so widely? Those who later receive the book and enter the authentic tradition should, if they fulfill their vow, engrave and publish all of the author’s writings; the one who guards the transmission is the dushī (the master who guides others into the Way), while Cui was the one who brought it in. Whoever neither pays jinggong dingli (the great reverence of prostrating in five points) nor reads this book must be an arrogant person.

That this book could be written came from reading tens of thousands of volumes; his works on the “Three Yi” (several treatises related to the Yijing) and other books could not be expounded without decades of bitter study.

Yet as for this book alone, how to open the Xuanguan yiqiao (the Mysterious Pass—the pivotal aperture in neidan cultivation) is not fully set out in the practice formulas. Then from what gate does one enter the symbolic “great union in the empty void” (a neidan image of Yin-Yang qi joining in emptiness)? And how does one “meet the undying person of the Kun direction” (Kun is one of the Bagua; here a cultivation symbol associated with the Kun position)? If that were truly so, the whole book would be useless.

I am moved by the compassionate hearts of the author and the engraver—an opportunity rare in a thousand years. Having already heard something of it, and Gan Ting having asked with such earnestness, I dared not keep it private and selected what the lineage transmitted, supplementing places in the question-and-answer where the principle is pointed to but not fully spoken. These words are neither quite commentary nor quite marginal notes: above, one may seek Wuyuanzi’s seal of approval; below, one invites readers of this book to verify.

As the book was nearing completion, I seemed dimly to see the elder Wuyuan arrive, revise one answer, and say that it was not the original—that the changed wording came from a certain disciple’s hand; he also said that what I had set forth had all received confirmation, and that the title might be changed to Mozi Xiuzhen Biannan Canzheng (Xiuzhen Biannan is a Q&A book on cultivation; canzheng means to consult and verify). Then he vanished. The lamp dimmed—it had been only a dream while sitting. On waking, fragrance still lingered, yet it was neither orchid nor musk. So I wrote my notes beneath the original answers, not daring to call them real, nor daring to call them illusion. The Sancai (Heaven, Earth, and Humanity) are originally one qi; through ten thousand ages the heart is one. I am Wuyuanzi, and Wuyuanzi is I—what difference is there?

The book being complete, I have also recorded the prefaces to each section, to inform Bao Sheng. When Bao Sheng reads this work, he must be careful and no longer speculate in empty fashion as he did before. This book is a supreme treasure of our lineage; it should be read as one reads the books of the Wei clan of the Eastern Han (the alchemical classics of Wei Boyang’s line). If you obtain any copies of the Summary Commentaries on the Three Yi (commentaries and digests on the three Yi: Lianshan, Guicang, and Zhouyi), please show them to me at once. Second month, spring, ninth year of the Daoguang reign, respectfully preface by Min Yide of Wuxing, later student and Jin’gai Mountain recluse.

Original Preface

Mr. Tang Jieting of Jincheng came to Wuchang and showed the works composed by the Old Master Pusu, including the Essentials of the Dao and De, and left them in the abbey for those who aspire to true cultivation (cultivating nature and life to realize the Great Dao) to take as their model. Among them was a book of pro and con exchanges front and back; I read it repeatedly with care. I am fond of the argument in the first half: the words are concise yet the reasoning complete. The intent is to have students first distinguish the right path, so they are not misled by inflated language and heterodox doctrines, and do not stray into crooked byways (improper methods of cultivation) and harm the great matter of nature and life (one’s inherent nature and vital existence). Therefore the more plain the speech, the clearer the Way; even someone who has read only a little and knows characters in a rough way can follow the trail and enter, going from the shallow to the deep. This is the most essential book for beginners—how great is its compassionate virtue! Yet the various books he wrote are voluminous, and reprinting them is not easy. Mr. Qin Yaopu, a classicist, generously funded the project so they could be widely circulated. This is like capping a pagoda with its finial and broadly planting merit—it is exactly what I have prayed for in all sincerity. The catalog is appended at the end; I respectfully set out its general outline here at the head of the volume. Third month, sixteenth year of the Jiaqing reign, preface by the Daoist priest of Changchun Abbey, Cui Jiaochun (style name Puzanzi).

Preface by Wuyuanzi

This is the preface that Wuyuanzi (his Daoist name) wrote for his own works.

The Book of Changes says: the alternation of one yin and one yang is called the Dao. It also says: exhaustively investigate things and fully know one’s nature, then extend that to comprehend destiny. Principle is the Dao, and the Dao is principle. The way of yin and yang is also the way of Xing (nature) and Ming (life). This principle, this Dao, enables heaven and earth each to hold their place and the myriad things to be transformed and nurtured; it is so vast that it has no outer limit, so subtle that it has no inner core. In the realm before form (xiantian), even heaven cannot go against it; when it unfolds in the realm after form (houtian), it still follows the seasons of heaven. It is most hidden and most refined. Those who understand it may become sages, immortals, or buddhas; those who are confused fall to the level of ordinary people, things, or ghosts.

Yet without the oral instructions of an enlightened teacher, even a thousand analogies amount to comparing the formless with the formed and the empty with the solid—sometimes showing only branches and leaves, sometimes touching the root but still failing to reach thorough clarity. Later generations added heterodox side paths that forced parallels with the sages’ way and muddled the immortal scriptures; each school clung to its own view and took itself for right, treating the scriptures’ metaphors as literal fact and burying the ancients’ intent. Some drifted into “chamber alchemy” (mistaking sexual union for inner refinement); some strayed into furnace fire (external elixir smelting); some fixated on the physical body; some sank into empty stillness. False and groundless doctrines spread everywhere. Even one or two people with real aspiration were like eyes full of needles and ears full of clanging bells—nowhere for their clarity to go, no way to settle their resolve. Once caught in this net, they rarely escape for life. That is why I wrote this work of clarification.

What difficulty does it address? The difficulty of what seems right but is wrong, what seems true but is false—and the difficulty of the ancients’ hidden language and images standing for deeper meaning. Within it, the sources of the heavenly way and sage achievement, of Xing and Ming, and the rights and wrongs of “medicinal ingredients” and “fire phases” (the substances and the timing of advance and retreat in practice) are each sorted out clearly. After the book was finished, I feared the threads were scattered and the sentences too dense for readers to follow through, so I added twenty-six sections entitled Post-Commentary on True Cultivation (Xiuzhen Houbian), gathering the essentials under separate headings. The words are plain and the meaning clear; the text is brief and the principle explicit. Metaphors are stripped away and the real meaning stated directly; branches and leaves are cut back and the root exposed. I hope fellow practitioners who read it will see at a glance. On the principles of yin-yang and Xing-Ming, they may then enter the finest depths, deepen on their own and gain understanding, and no longer be at a loss.

Alas! Do I delight in dispute? Truly, I had no choice.

On the third day of the third month of the third year of the Jiaqing reign (1798), wuwu, from the Abode of Ease (Zizaiwo), the Hermit of Plain Simplicity of Qiyun Mountain, Liu Yiming—Master of Realizing the Origin (Wuyuanzi)—preface.

In a postface he wrote himself, Wuyuanzi (the Daoist name of the Qing-period author Liu Yiming) says: Zhuangzi remarked that the Great Dao cannot be praised in words, and the highest discourse does not rely on language. Because the Dao originally has no name, what is there to call it? Because the Dao originally has no form, what is there to say about it? If naming is already impossible, and speaking is already impossible, what is there to debate? Yet in the world there are always people who “speak of the Dao” and people who “discourse on the Dao.” Once there is naming, right and wrong get mixed in and the Dao is no longer true; once there is speech, heterodox and orthodox contend and falsity enters the Dao. When naming is untrue and speech is false, one is not really speaking of the Dao but slandering it; not really discoursing on the Dao but burying it. To slander and bury the Dao is to block the gate of true cultivation (xiuzhen: nurturing one’s true nature and engaging in inner practice) and bar the path of walking the Way—the harm is greatest. Therefore I have no choice but to argue reluctantly, to break up untrue praise; no choice but to argue carefully, to refute false talk. When untrue names are cleared away, the Dao that cannot be named becomes easier for learners to grasp step by step; when false discourse is cleared away, the Dao that cannot be put into words becomes easier for learners to absorb in silence. What was hard to grasp can be grasped on one’s own; what was hard to absorb can be absorbed on one’s own—that is the purpose of all this debate before and after.

Even so, once one has argued, can one still say there was no speech? Once there are words, can one still say there was no naming? Once there is both naming and speech, is it right to blame others for untrue naming and false words? Others name, and I name too; others speak, and I speak too. How do I know their naming is true and mine is not? How do I know mine is true and theirs is not? How do I know their words are false and mine are not? How do I know mine are false and theirs are not? Who is true and who is not, who is false and who is not—only the person who does not “speak of the Dao” or “discourse on the Dao” sees and knows for himself; why must I argue? Wuyuanzi writes this postface again.

Front-section commentary on Discerning Difficulties in Cultivating Truth by Wuyuanzi of Qiyun Mountain. The main text was written by Master Liu Yiming of Tongcheng; Min Yide, a later disciple at Jingai Mountain (a sacred site of the Quanzhen Longmen lineage), added this commentary.

On the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival in the renyin year of the Qianlong era of the Great Qing, the moon was bright and clear and the stars sparse and faint. Wuyuanzi sat in stillness on the summit of Qiyun Peak. His spirit-mind entered the country of hazy indistinctness and unfathomable depth—a Daoist image for what seems both there and not there, far beyond ordinary reckoning—while his body sank into a realm of emptiness and silent solitude.

[Min Yide’s note: When a person is truly in this state, they touch the mysterious and subtle; it is as if a gate suddenly opens and the true mountain stands revealed. To go further from here—how alive and responsive it is! Within it, the “proper zi” and the “living zi” (in neidan, the moment when true yang stirs—not necessarily the midnight hour on a clock) stand out clearly and can be seen. Students of the Dao must not read this passage as mere narrative description.]

The disciples stood at his side in attendance and waited until the middle of the night. One of them asked: “Master, your body does not move; there is no sound and no breath—is this awakening to the Dao, or is it zuowang (sitting in forgetfulness: letting go of body and clever contrivance in stillness that merges with the Dao)?” He asked three times; three times there was no answer.

This passage does not narrate events in sequence; it uses this scene to clarify the subtle efficacy of the present moment. “Master” (shi) means the master—do not take it as Wuyuanzi himself, but as the disciples standing in attendance at his side; only then does this word “master” make sense. The point is unmoved stillness and “no sound, no odor” (within silence there is neither sound nor scent), so one can pass from awakening (wu) into forgetting (wang). At midnight that “One” opens and asks a question—and that question is grounded. The character zi is not empty: when zi stirs, the mouth (kou) appears under the master’s gate, hence necessarily three questions and three non-answers; the answer lies within. This is plainly a supreme esoteric image of yang qi first stirring and being gathered in stillness. In antiquity, two thousand five hundred people were called one “master.” The master does not waver; the master is without sound or odor—yet there is a “One” watching them. Who is this “One”? Wuyuanzi among the disciples. Know that the opening of this “zi” is opened from the master within the gate. The master does not waver; the master is without sound or odor; there is a “One” watching them. Who is this “One”? Wuyuanzi among the disciples. Know that the opening of this “zi” is opened from within the gate. That mouth has three aspects, named Heaven, Earth, and Human. When the three return to One, there is attainment; when One disperses into three, there is loss—hence three questions and three non-answers. The word “answer” (da) carries deep meaning: if one does not turn toward the “One,” the answer has nowhere to return—how could that be acceptable? Hence: three questions and three non-answers, and the answer is within. Students should examine this closely.

The disciple asked again: “Master, you do not speak a word—is it that I am wood too rotten to carve, a wall of dung that cannot be whitewashed, not worth talking to?” Wuyuan gazed at him for a long time and said calmly: “This is not something you can know.”

This section uses question-and-answer to expound subtle meaning; what follows is the same—there is no need to seek beyond the words. The hidden intent here is for those under the gate to reflect quietly for themselves, so he looked long and still said only, “This is not something you can know.”

A disciple asked: “May I ask what is the reason for this?” Wu Yuanzi replied: “I treat heaven and earth as an inn where I pause briefly, the sun and moon as passing guests, the ten thousand things as drifting gossamer, affairs of the world as dreams and illusions, human sentiment as an enemy, wealth and rank as floating clouds, the body as shackles, the four great elements (earth, water, fire, and wind—the ancient way of naming what makes up the body) as withered wood, the six roots (eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind) as holes and openings, and body and mind as dust and ash. With that, what could still shake me? What sound or what scent could there be?”

The commentary explains that this passage only shows how he could remain unmoved and reach a state without sound or scent—in essence, the preliminary work of learning to open the Mysterious Pass (xuan guan), the pivotal gate in internal alchemy where one turns from post-heaven back toward pre-heaven. Wu Yuanzi would have liked to state it plainly, but people were sunk in worldly entanglement and could not be roused even by urgent admonition, so he first took “letting go of body and mind” as the entrance and hinted that the subtle use of cultivating the true through the false—using post-heaven body and mind to refine the pre-heaven—lies precisely in treating the six roots as holes and openings. The meaning is: only when you see through everything can the will become single-minded; then one passes from the holes of the six thieves (the six senses that chase externals and disturb the spirit) into the subtle realm of xiyi (where seeing is as if not seeing and hearing as if not hearing). Yet students often fail to grasp this—it is a common failing—and the only remedy is to guide them to practice accordingly.

The disciple asked, “According to Master’s meaning, does that mean there is nothing at all?” Wuyuan said, “How could there be nothing?” The disciple asked, “Then what is there, after all?” Wuyuan said, “One only knows that there is the Dao—that is all!” The disciple asked, “In that case, is the Dao wuwei (non-action)?” Wuyuan said, “How could it be wuwei? The Dao has a root-nature and has function; it has advance and retreat, reversal and accord, urgency and ease, cessation and fullness, beginning and end, before and after. There are yao zhu (stages marked by trigram lines and the finest measures of alchemical timing), levels and layers, transformations, and all manner of great undertakings and applications—how can one call that wuwei?”

The disciple said, “I have been in the Way for many years, have read through the danjing (classics on internal alchemy), and have visited many people, yet I still know nothing. I beg Master’s compassion to offer me a little guidance.” Wuyuan said, “The Dao is what Heaven and Earth keep hidden and what spirits and ghosts dread; one cannot speak of it casually while standing about. Unless you first observe purification fasts, you must not listen to it rashly.”

The disciple bowed and withdrew, then performed six kinds of purification: first, not clinging to the four great elements of earth, water, fire, and wind (the constituents of the body)—this was fasting of the body; second, letting all kinds of thought cease—this was fasting of the mind; third, turning the light inward and reflecting back upon oneself (huiguang fanzhao)—this was fasting of the eyes; fourth, not letting sounds enter—this was fasting of the ears; fifth, not being tainted by fragrance or stench—this was fasting of the nose; sixth, not letting right and wrong stir upon the tongue—this was fasting of the tongue.

When the six fasts were complete, he came forward again and said, “Disciple has already completed the fasts; I dare to ask about this Dao.” Wuyuan said, “It is still not enough. There is still one fast unfinished—how dare you ask?” The disciple said, “Beyond the six fasts, what other fast is there? I beg Master to point it out.” Wuyuan said, “There is also the fast of the mind-realm (xinjing). This realm is filthier than the six roots (eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind). The six roots are outer thieves—they come and go at times; the mind-realm is the inner thief, and within it dwells the shishen (the acquired, discriminating spirit of the mind)—precisely the seed of rebirth through myriad kalpas. If this realm is not purified, the six fasts bring no benefit.” The disciple was greatly startled and withdrew once more.

Do not assume that the six fasts (the six types of fasting described earlier) are without benefit; they still belong to the realm of deliberate, willed effort. When fasting reaches the heart and arises spontaneously from nature, it can be called true fasting (kezhai)—fasting truly held and realized. When each of the six fasts arises entirely from nature, it may be named heart fasting (xinzhai): fasting inwardly in the heart, not merely outward prohibitions.

Then sweep away all external entanglements, leave behind every biased view (bianjian—clinging to either extreme), and generate the mind without abiding anywhere (ying wu suo zhu er sheng qi xin). In an instant it is like frozen ice melting and dispersing, without a speck of residue. With sincere reverence he knelt before his master in the proper place and asked: “Thanks to the master’s compassion. Having fasted, there is no fast; only when there is no fast can there truly be fast. To discard fasting is not fasting; not fasting is instead fasting. If one does not fast, who is fasting? Who fasts this fast? The one who fasts does not fast; not fasting is fasting. To know fasting is not to fast; there is nothing in fasting that can be fasted. If one seeks true fasting, within fasting one cannot see fasting. Since fasting originally has no fasting, why force oneself to fast?” Wuyuanzi (the Daoist master Liu Yiming) said: “You understand fasting! You have already fasted! I may discuss the Way with you and let you hear the Way.”

When gongfu reaches this stage, the substance of the Dao is fully revealed; one hint of guidance and awakening comes at once. If you further lead him to recognize reality from here—neither clinging to being nor to non-being, letting go of self and method together—cultivating until there is no fixed abode and no boundary, he naturally enters an unlimited realm of transformation. The body’s movement and the mind’s activity merge on their own with the creative work of Heaven and Earth. Then have him observe dispersed fasting (a more lenient form of abstinence) for seven times seven days, never losing this state. When the moment arrives, point and transform according to conditions; he can verify the natural order for himself, and the six penetrations (six extraordinary capacities) are all present. How could the primordial source still be dim and unknown? How could the sacred embryo fail to form, or form incompletely?

Guidance like this could lift a person in one leap to supreme knowing and virtue. Regrettably, they only allowed him to ask about and hear the Dao after he knew fasting and had already kept the fast; they did not break it open on the spot, did not push further, and did not test him then and there or deliver a timely shout (a sudden awakening blow). What could have been settled in one awakening was lost—what a pity!

Such an advanced disciple, able to urge himself on and advance diligently, stands only a hair’s breadth from being “born knowing.” I regret that I have never met one. If I had, I would surely have entered while his sharp energy was at its peak, skillfully leading him, and could have achieved extraordinary results. Even if obstacles arose midway, the xuanguan yiqiao (the critical portal where nature and life meet in Neidan) would surely open wide and stay open; gathering, nurturing, and transcending liberation (caiyao, wen yang, tuo tai shen hua—gathering the medicine, warming and nurturing, shedding the shell and spirit transformation) could all be pointed out as questions arose. The constant aim is to act from non-abiding awareness, awake yet without fixation.

Would Master Wuyuan (Liu Yiming, Qing Neidan master) not understand this? He merely used this question-and-answer to clarify the utmost Dao; he may not truly have met such an advanced disciple—and if he had, he might not have missed the moment quite like this.

Someone asked, “What is the Dao?” The reply was: “The Dao is the primordial Qi—the fundamental vital energy that existed before heaven, earth, and the ten thousand things arose. It cannot be seen, heard, or touched, yet it embraces heaven and earth and gives birth to all things. Outwardly nothing lies beyond it; inwardly nothing can be divided finer still. Confucians call it Taiji (Supreme Ultimate); Daoists call it the Golden Elixir—the root verified in internal alchemy (Neidan), not an external elixir; Buddhists call it complete enlightenment (yuanjue). It originally has no name and is only provisionally called ‘the Dao.’ Compare it to anything and you miss it; argue about it and you lose it. It has no form and no image; it does not rest in ‘form’ (se) nor in ‘emptiness’ (kong); it does not lean toward ‘being’ (you) nor toward ‘non-being’ (wu). Cling to the appearances of form, emptiness, being, or non-being, and that is no longer the Dao.”

[Editor’s note: This answer already clarifies the substance of the Dao in full. From this, those who cultivate the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir know where to begin: the essential point lies solely in non-attachment. Be aware of it, but do not cling to it—that is correct.]

Someone asked again: “If the Dao is formless and imageless, merely undifferentiated Qi, why does the Yijing say, ‘One yin and one yang—this is called the Dao’?” The reply was: “‘One yin and one yang—this is called the Dao’ speaks from the perspective of the Dao’s function; formlessness and imagelessness speak from the perspective of its substance. Before Taiji divides, the Dao contains yin and yang; after Taiji divides, the alternation of yin and yang makes the Dao manifest. Without yin and yang, the breath of the Dao cannot be discerned. Only when yin and yang alternate and operate within it can Dao-Qi endure and remain un destroyed through myriad kalpas (aeons of immeasurable duration). In the pre-heaven state (the original condition before forms appear), it is the Dao; in the post-heaven state (the differentiated world of phenomena), it appears as yin and yang. The Dao is the root of yin and yang; yin and yang are the unfolding and expression of the Dao. Thus Taiji divides into yin and yang, and yin and yang unite again as Taiji: from one comes two, from two returns to one.”

Someone asked: “When Taiji (the undifferentiated whole before Yin and Yang divide) has already split into Yin and Yang, that makes two Yin-Yangs—so why did the ancients also speak of ‘two heavens’ and ‘four Yin-Yangs’?” The answer: “The two heavens are Xiantian (the original state before things take form) and Houtian (the condition after form and substance exist). The four Yin-Yangs are the Yin-Yang of Xiantian and the Yin-Yang of Houtian. Xiantian Yin-Yang is spoken of in terms of qi; Houtian Yin-Yang in terms of form and substance. Xiantian Yin-Yang is the Yin-Yang inherently contained in Taiji; Houtian Yin-Yang is the Yin-Yang generated from Taiji. The great way of the Golden Elixir takes qi, not substance—it must return from Houtian to Xiantian, hence it is called the Xiantian great way.”

Someone asked: “If Xiantian and Houtian Yin-Yang each have their boundary, why is it also said that one returns to Xiantian within Houtian?” The answer: “Once Xiantian is ‘opened,’ Houtian Yin-Yang arises; when Houtian Yin-Yang moves and rests, Xiantian is again generated within them. The perfected person takes, within this Houtian, that newly arisen bit of Xiantian qi and cultivates it against the ordinary direction of generation and transformation, returning to the source and once more completing the body of Taiji—hence it is called Huandan (returning the elixir—the method of giving back the original yuan and restoring Taiji).”

Someone asked: “Since Yin-Yang are already divided into Xiantian and Houtian, why is there also talk of inner Yin-Yang and outer Yin-Yang?” The answer: “Inner Yin-Yang is Houtian Yin-Yang, arising from the physical body; outer Yin-Yang is Xiantian Yin-Yang, emerging from empty void. The Yin-Yang of the body is the forward-flowing Yin-Yang, produced by heaven and earth; the Yin-Yang of the void is the reverse-circulating Yin-Yang, able to generate heaven and earth. ‘Inner’ and ‘outer’ are merely ways of speaking about how they are applied.”

Someone asked: “Since Yin-Yang is distinguished as inner and outer, do the Five Phases also have an inner and an outer?” The reply was: “The Five Phases arise from Yin-Yang. If Yin-Yang has inner and outer, the Five Phases must as well. In the Ten Heavenly Stems and the Twelve Earthly Branches, each phase is split into a yang and a yin form. Among the stems: Bing is yang Fire and Ding is yin Fire; Jia is yang Wood and Yi is yin Wood; Geng is yang Metal and Xin is yin Metal; Ren is yang Water and Gui is yin Water; Wu is yang Earth and Ji is yin Earth. Among the branches: the Water of Hai is yang and that of Zi is yin; the Wood of Yin is yang and that of Mao is yin; the Fire of Si is yang and that of Wu is yin; the Metal of Shen is yang and that of You is yin; Chen and Xu Earth are yang, while Chou and Wei Earth are yin. Yang corresponds to the outer and to pre-heaven (the primal, undifferentiated Qi before it is blended with post-heaven influences); yin corresponds to the inner and to post-heaven (the Qi refined after birth through breath and nourishment). Pre-heaven and post-heaven are thus set apart, and inner medicine and outer medicine—the two kinds of “medicinal” substance in internal alchemy, one tied to pre-heaven Qi and one to post-heaven Qi—are distinguished in the same way.”

Someone asked: Internal medicine is applied to complete xing (clarifying the nature of mind); external medicine is applied to complete ming (settling the matter of life). Does that mean cultivating xing and cultivating ming each have their own season? The Yijing (Zhouyi) says, “Act before Heaven yet do not violate Heaven; act after Heaven and follow Heaven’s timing”—referring to acting against the flow and acting with the flow, as two separate matters. Why then does the Ruyao Jing say, “First Heaven’s qi, then Heaven’s qi—whoever obtains them is often as if drunk”?

The answer: The patriarch already explained this with compassion; it is simply that you have not understood. Internal medicine for xing is precisely “acting after Heaven and following Heaven’s timing”; external medicine for ming is precisely “acting before Heaven yet not violating Heaven.” The path of reversal means taking the lead first—therefore one can seize zaohua (creation and transformation) and form the elixir. Acting according to the season means taking the path of compliance—relying on natural huohou (the timing and degree of alchemical firing)—therefore one can merge the Five Phases and shed the elixir. The work of the earlier and later stages together is called xingming shuangxiu (dual cultivation of nature and life); cultivating inner and outer together is called using reversal and compliance at once.

They asked again: Xing belongs to yin and ming belongs to yang—is this the yin and yang that Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate, undivided origin) divides into?

The answer: Here one must make distinctions. In xing there is qizhi zhi xing (nature as shaped by bodily temperament) and tianfu zhi xing (innate endowment of nature); in ming there is fending zhi ming (ming as fixed allotment or destiny).

Someone asked: “Xing (nature) belongs to yin and ming (life/destiny) belongs to yang—is this the yin and yang that Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate, the primordial state before yin and yang divide) separates into?”

The answer: “Here one must distinguish. Xing has ‘xing of temperament’ (xing shaped by bodily constitution and temperament) and ‘xing endowed by heaven’ (innate nature received before birth). Ming has ‘allotted ming’ (postnatal, fixed span and fate) and ‘ming of Dao-qi’ (ming formed from primordial Dao-qi). Temperamental xing and allotted ming are postnatal, formed xing and ming; heaven-endowed xing and Dao-qi ming are prenatal, formless xing and ming. Cultivating postnatal xing and ming follows creation (the natural process of generation and change); cultivating prenatal xing and ming reverses creation. Great practitioners of the Way use the postnatal to return to the prenatal, then use the prenatal to transform and dissolve the postnatal; the two merge into one, xing and ming congeal—this is called dancheng (the inner elixir completed). Xing and ming are the substance of yin and yang; yin and yang are the functioning of xing and ming. Within this there are distinctions of true and false, earlier and later—it all depends on discerning finely and recognizing clearly.”

Someone asked again: “Xing and ming must rely on yin and yang to congeal: where there is yin there cannot be no yang, where there is yang there cannot be no yin—so why is there also the saying ‘when all yin is stripped away, the elixir ripens’ (qun yin bo jin dan chengshu)? In the end, does one use yin or not use yin?”

The answer: “What is used is true yin and true yang; what is not used is false yin and false yang. True yin and true yang belong to the prenatal; false yin and false yang belong to the postnatal. The prenatal can complete the Dao; the postnatal can ruin the Dao.”

When someone asked, “What are true Yin and true Yang? What are false Yin and false Yang?” the reply was: “The Yin contained within Yang is true Yin; the Yang contained within Yin is true Yang. The Yin-Yang spoken of here is what the ancient classics mean by ‘Yin and Yang each obtain their matching kind’ (yinyang de lei). When Yang is in extreme excess and there is no Yin, that is false Yang; when Yin stands alone and there is no Yang, that is false Yin. This is Yin-Yang that cannot be used—the situation the classics call ‘isolated Yin and orphaned Yang’ (gu yin gua yang): Yin without its paired Yang, or Yang without its paired Yin.”

Regrettably, although this section brings out the word “kind” (lei), it still does not reach the most penetrating level. This subtle meaning was a secret treasure of the ancient sages, so one can only cite what the elixir scriptures have occasionally let slip. Yet if this point is not stated clearly enough, later students will still be caught in a thicket of brambles. I therefore explained it in Corrective Commentary on the Mysterious Exegesis of the Yin Fu Jing, but alas, kindred spirits who truly understand are very few. The elixir scripture says, “When the kind is the same, effort is easily applied; without the proper seed, even skill cannot succeed” (tong lei yi shi gong, fei zhong nan wei qiao)—these two lines already state the whole method. If you savor the word “kind” finely, you will know that one must seek this matching kind within the pre-heaven (xiantian)—the original source not yet dispersed into the post-heaven realm. The earth produces vast numbers of people, and “dragon and tiger” (long hu—the two polar types in alchemy) are likewise beyond counting. Among them, those whose stellar positions and tidal cycles align also form innumerable pairs that can join and be taken—yet one sees them or does not, and from that decides what is feasible and what is not. This Way was obtained only by our Northern school (Beizong). The word “seed” (zhong) carries an even finer meaning. If you cannot thoroughly apply the principle of “seed,” you will exactly invite the ridicule of “boiling water and fire in vain”—refining with no real substance. Whoever reads this commentary should not skim it lightly. This method of gathering is far more than merely “not loosening clothes or undoing belts.” The frontier of Yin and E (Yin’e—the alchemical boundary like a rampart) is very broad: within a hundred li there is no need to meet face to face or arrange a prior appointment; like a lodestone drawing iron, nearness feels almost as if sitting together. Only for one whose Mysterious Pass aperture (xuanguan qiao) has opened does practice of this kind avoid being empty or illusory.

Someone asked: Mutual interaction between yin and yang is a principle that naturally unfolds between heaven and earth without any prior agreement—like a magnet drawing iron: when they come near, it is as if they were sitting together. Only those for whom the xuanguan acupoint (the key aperture in internal alchemy where yin and yang meet) is already open can practice in this way without emptiness and without falling into illusion.

They asked again: If yin and yang have a way of mutual interaction, why are there still cases of widowhood and orphanhood (those who remain unmatched, where yin and yang do not meet)? The answer was: I have already explained this. What can truly interact is genuine yin and yang; what cannot interact is false yin and yang. The distinction between true and false lies solely in whether interaction occurs or not.

They asked again: Since yin and yang have a path of mutual interaction, then the Dao...