《性命圭旨》

The Guidelines for Cultivating Nature and Life takes dual cultivation of nature and life as its central aim. It seeks to explain the essentials of cultivating the mind and nature and preserving life. The opening chapter of the “Origin” section is titled “On the Great Dao.”

Fuxi, the legendary sage ruler of antiquity, drew the Eight Trigrams (Bagua) to offer guidance to the people, so that later generations would know there is a way to nourish life.

Guangchengzi said to the Yellow Emperor: “The Qi of utmost Yin is solemn and profound; the Qi of utmost Yang is blazing and bright. The blazing, bright Yang Qi rises from the earth, while the solemn, profound Yin Qi comes from Heaven. I will take you up to the place of greatest light, to the source of utmost Yang; then I will lead you through the boundless gate of darkness, to the source of utmost Yin.”

The Yellow Emperor, Xuanyuan, bowed twice and said: “What Guangchengzi has said is truly the Dao of Heaven.”

When the Duke of Zhou used the Yi for divination, he said: “The noble person is diligent and tireless throughout the day.” Confucius’s commentary on the Yi explains: “To be diligent and tireless throughout the day is to observe the Great Dao repeatedly and put it into practice.”

The Dao may be called the foundation that steadies Heaven and Earth and nurtures the myriad things; the foundation from which the sun and moon rise and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) move. Its number is as countless as the sands of the Ganges, yet it may also be called singular, without peer. It can penetrate directly into the chaos before Heaven and Earth first opened, then return to the depths of darkness and obscurity. It gathers the work of creation and transformation, surpassing the boundary between sages and ordinary people. Before the opportunities before us have yet appeared, it is already wondrously responsive and unobstructed. The transformations of life and death unfold clearly before our eyes, and nothing can escape its workings. It dwells in lowliness and filth, yet is supremely noble; it abides in darkness, yet possesses the highest clarity. It is as small as a particle of dust, yet vast enough to encompass Heaven and Earth. It gives rise to being from nonbeing; the attainment of Buddhahood or immortality through cultivation may both be said to be workings of the Dao.

Though the Buddhist scriptures comprise 5,048 volumes, they do not fully explain the Dao’s ultimate destination. Though the Doctrine of the Mean has thirty-three chapters, it does not exhaust the Dao’s mysteries. Though the Dao De Jing has more than five thousand characters, it does not reach the Dao’s furthest limit. What, then, is the Dao? In a single word, it may be defined as “Qi”—the fundamental breath that, in Daoist understanding, constitutes and sets all things in motion.

At the beginning, primordial Qi—the original energy of the cosmos—gathered together. It was dark and chaotic, beyond measure, yet it flowed and changed within its indistinct depths, containing a subtle, wondrous vitality. This state is called “Taiyi,” the beginning before all things had begun. This beginning is the Dao, and is therefore called “the Beginningless.”

As Heaven and Earth were about to begin, primordial Qi stirred, and emptiness opened and closed. The two forces of Yin and Yang responded to one another; black and white blended, and being and nonbeing acted upon each other. Heaven and Earth remained undivided in chaos, in a state of deep, still, and far-reaching sanctity. They held primordial Qi and spiritual potency within them, changing in wondrous ways, as if they might appear in an instant. This state is called “Taiyi,” the beginning before all things began. This beginning is “the Dao gives birth to One,” and is also called “the Primordial Beginning.”

When Heaven and Earth were in the state of Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate), primordial Qi began to divide. The source that governs all things then emerged and differentiated; diverse forces reflected one another and unfolded in ordered array, while the myriad spirits solemnly guarded and upheld them. Thus Yin and Yang began. This is called “Taiji,” or “One gives birth to Two,” and is also called “Empty Yellow.”

Once Yin and Yang had separated, Heaven and Earth each settled into its place, and humanity was conceived. This is “Two gives birth to Three,” also called “Primordial Chaos.”

The clear, light Yang Qi rises upward, and from it the radiant sun, moon, and stars appear. Thus the celestial bodies move to the left, while the sun, moon, and stars revolve to the right. The clear Yang Qi ascends and joins with Yang Qi, bringing changes in wind and cloud and giving rise to thunder and rain. The Yin Qi is turbid and heavy; it sinks downward and settles on the earth, where oceans and mountains stand firm and grains and plants grow. Clouds therefore rise among mountain rocks, and the Qi between mountains and marshes can flow freely.

When the Yin and Yang Qi are blocked and cannot pass through one another, they congeal into frost, snow, and ice. Turbid Yin Qi gathers and stagnates, congealing downward; this is why caves and rock strata are deep and hidden. Grains and various minerals also lie intermingled within them. The space between Heaven and Earth is where the vital Qi of Yin and Yang meets. Sages, immortals and Buddhas, and ordinary people all take shape there, along with people’s worthiness or folly, longevity or early death. Every kind of life, whether born from the womb, from eggs, from moisture, or through transformation, continues to reproduce without cease. This is the Six Directions—Heaven, Earth, and the four quarters—and the meaning of the saying that the Three give birth to all things.

People are born by receiving the blended, abundant Qi of Yin and Yang. By the time they grow to around sixteen, the Yang at the Nine in the Third Place—the pure Yang state of the Qian trigram—has reached its full strength. At that point, are they not just like the “great person” endowed with superior De? Yet one day, a thought arises of repaying Hundun for its kindness. The person then begins to “bore openings”: as in the parable of piercing openings in Hundun, this symbolizes the mind and spirit being disturbed by distinctions and desires. The once flourishing Yang at the Nine in the Third Place then bolts like a runaway horse, retreating from Qian’s pure Yang state into the Six in the Second Place of the Kan trigram. Qian can no longer remain purely Yang and is broken by the Li trigram; something is concealed within Kun, which becomes the Kan trigram.

The most spiritually perfected adepts understand how the original Taiji, the root of all things before they divide, differentiates; how the source of life and death begins; how Heaven and Earth, Yin-Yang, operate; and how the “mysterious female” of Heaven and Earth—the force symbolizing the union of Yin and Yang—interacts. They therefore take the forms of Heaven and Earth as their model, apply the functions of Kan and Li, the trigrams symbolizing water and fire, Yin and Yang, and grasp the pivot of Yin-Yang change, passing beyond the threshold of life and death. They draw Yang Qi from Kan and use it to replenish Li, bringing Li’s Yin Qi to fullness. Once Li’s Yin is full, it transforms again into the pure, unbroken Qian trigram.

At this point, the primordial force of Qian, pure Yang, has been restored, and Hundun, the original state in which all things are undifferentiated, is whole again. In this way, one preserves both the body received from one’s parents and the nature bestowed by Heaven, becoming a complete person. If one continues to cultivate with diligence and perseverance, one can form the Golden Elixir and bring the sacred embryo to perfection—the stage in cultivation that symbolizes the maturation of inner life. When the sacred embryo is complete, the perfected person appears. Once this perfected person has appeared, transformations are boundless and its presence or concealment is impossible to fathom. It is no difficult matter to attain a state alongside such eminent Daoists as Zhongli Quan, Lü Dongbin, Wang Chongyang, and Ma Danyang.

It is lamentable that people do not understand this principle. When their vital energy is abundant, they do not know how to preserve it; when it is depleted, they do not know how to restore it. Day by day, the Yang Qi within them is exhausted and Yin Qi becomes dominant, until after death they become ghosts. Thus the Perfected Ziyang (Zhang Boduan) said: “Alas! Human life is hard to obtain, and time passes swiftly. No one can know how long life will last, so how can anyone escape karmic retribution? If you do not awaken soon, but simply wait for life to end, then at the moment of death, one mistaken thought is enough to send you into the Three Evil Paths—hell, the realm of hungry ghosts, and the realm of animals—where you may pass through long kalpas with no chance of release. When that time comes, what good will regret do?”

For this reason, the sages of the three teachings—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—established accessible methods through the study of nature and life, teaching people to cultivate them and thereby escape life and death.

The Confucian teaching instructs people to follow the principles of nature and life and return to the process of creation and transformation. It follows a path of fairness and selflessness.

Chan Buddhism teaches people to see through the illusory nature of the body and consciousness, transcend the ordinary world, and attain great awakening. Its principles are lofty and profound.

The teaching of Laozi—Daoist thought—teaches people to cultivate body and mind and regulate nature and life in the pursuit of longevity. Its aim is practical and close to everyday concerns.

Although the Three Teachings stand apart, the fundamental principles they discuss are one and the same.

The Confucian teaching of the sages says: Be content with your proper place and honor the principles you ought to uphold. Know when to advance, withdraw, and stop; act in accord with the right way. Continually cultivate your De and devote yourself to the highest good. Keep the heart centered and understand the principles of things; establish yourself rightly in the world; let your thoughts stay within their proper bounds and your conduct never depart from the right way. Dwell in the broadest De under Heaven, stand in the most upright place under Heaven, and walk the brightest path under Heaven. Let your state of mind be wholly pure and unified, and your character purely good. Let sincerity fill your heart, and joy arise within it. This is where the spirits dwell and the gateway from which moral principle emerges. When the heart and spirit are lively and clear, joy is found within. Be generous and deep as the earth, profound as a pool, and vast in spirit as the heavens; then people throughout the world will turn toward benevolence. One must also gather the spirit and nurture it in stillness, preserve the mind’s original state, free of calculation and concern, and reach a condition of not seeking knowledge deliberately, but remaining natural and unadorned. The relevant teachings are too many to list one by one. In sum, they all speak of the Way of nature and life: the fundamental principles for cultivating body and mind and preserving life.

The Daoist teaching of mystery—Daoist methods of internal cultivation—says that the Gate of the Mysterious Female, the wondrous portal that gives birth to the myriad things, is the root of Heaven and Earth. It is where life is generated and the vital opening through which one returns to one’s original nature. It is the source of the Golden Elixir, the location of the Mysterious Pass where Jing, Qi, and Shen converge, and the foundation for gathering Jing, Qi, and Shen and circulating the breath. It is also called the Jia-Yi Altar, the Wu-Ji Gate, the source of the heart and sea of nature, the numinous abode and spirit terrace, Penglai Island, the Cinnabar Tripod, the Crescent Furnace, the Spirit Chamber, the Qi Cavity, the Earthen Crucible, the Valley Spirit, the Numinous Root, and the Handle. These are different names in internal alchemy texts for crucial places in the body and mind, or for key points in cultivation. It is where Kan and Li unite, symbolizing the joining of Yin and Yang energies; it is the source of all transformations and the place where one breaks free of the bonds of life and death. Even ghosts and spirits cannot fathom its mysteries. The relevant teachings are too many to list one by one. In sum, they all speak of the Way of nature and life.

Buddhism calls it the “Dharma Gate of Nonduality” (the teaching that transcends distinctions and opposites), the “Profound Dharma Realm” (the deep realm of truth), the “Space Treasury,” the “Ocean of Quiescent Extinction,” the “Ground of Reality,” and the “Gate of Total Retention” (the teaching that gathers the meaning of all teachings). It also calls it the “Other Shore,” the “Pure Land,” the “True Realm,” the “Mind’s Ultimate Land of Bliss,” the “Tathāgata Treasury,” “Śariputra,” the “Bodhisattva Ground,” the “Treasury of Light,” the “Ocean of Perfect Awakening,” the “Shore of Prajna,” the “City of the Dharma King,” the “West,” “Heaven,” “Within Emptiness,” “Ultimate Reality,” “This,” “Samadhi” (meditative absorption), the “Ocean of the Flower Treasury,” the “Dharani Gate” (the gate of total retention), the “Unmoving Place of Practice,” and the “Ground of Paramita” (the realm of reaching the shore of liberation), among many other names too numerous to list. In general, all these names refer to the Way of nature and life.

Confucianism speaks of “preserving the mind and nurturing nature”; Daoism speaks of “cultivating the mind and refining nature”; Buddhism speaks of “illuminating the mind and seeing one’s nature.” Mind and nature are the human being’s true essence.

The Confucian teaching of “holding to the Mean” means grasping the principle at the center of this essence. The Daoist teaching of “abiding in the center” means keeping to that center. The Buddhist teaching of “emptiness at the center” means that the center of this essence is originally empty, still, and open. They are all speaking of the same essence.

Daoism speaks of “attaining the One,” meaning to attain the “One” of this essence; Buddhism speaks of “returning to the One,” meaning to return to its “One”; Confucianism speaks of “the One thread that runs through all,” meaning that the “One” of this essence connects all things.

From this I understand: if he had not grasped the “center” and connected all things through the “One,” how could Confucius have become a sage? If he had not abided in the “center” and attained the “One,” how could Laozi have penetrated the mystery? If he had not understood “emptiness at the center” and returned to the “One,” how could Shakyamuni have mastered meditation? In the end, what they describe is all this same essence. Because it is empty and formless, it is provisionally called the “center”; because it gives rise to the beginnings of the myriad things, it is provisionally called the “One.” In terms of language, the “center” is the root contained within the “One,” while the “One” is the function expressed by the “center.”

Thus, Heaven becomes Heaven through it, Earth becomes Earth through it, and human beings become human through it. The great Way of Heaven, Earth, and humanity all originates here.

Rulers become rulers through it, emperors become emperors through it, and kings become kings through it. The ways of governing practiced by sovereigns, emperors, and kings all originate here as well.

Sages became sages because they attained it; those who were profound truly understood the mysteries because they attained it. The fundamental Great Dao that people seek arises from this Dao.

Emperors achieved the virtue of emperors because they attained it; sovereigns accomplished the work of sovereigns because they attained it; kings fulfilled the Way of kings because they attained it. The Great Dao followed by emperors, sovereigns, and kings also arises from this Dao.

Sages became sages because they attained it; those who were profound understood the mysteries because they attained it; Chan practitioners realized the Way of Chan because they attained it. The Ways followed by sages, the profound, and Chan practitioners each arise from this Dao.

Among emperors and kings who attained the Dao were Fuxi, Shennong, and the Yellow Emperor. Among those who attained the Dao after serving as officials or withdrawing from public life were Laozi, Zhuangzi, and Yin Xi, Guardian of the Pass. Among the lords who attained the Dao were Zhang Liang, courtesy name Zifang, and Liu An, King of Huainan. Among those who attained the Dao while living in seclusion in the mountains and forests were Zhongli Quan, Lü Dongbin, and Chen Tuan, known as Xiyi.

The Great Dao moves through Heaven and Earth, and throughout history the number of those who became immortals or Buddhas has been beyond counting. I respectfully consulted the Comprehensive Record of Immortals and learned that, from ancient times onward, more than a hundred thousand people ascended to become immortals, while more than eight thousand households, homes and all, ascended together. Some accounts tell of wondrous deeds: Prince Jin ascending on a luan bird, and Qin Gao departing on a carp. Some tell of extraordinary longevity: Li Tuo living for eight hundred years, and Anqi for three thousand. Some remained among the living with their bodies intact; others grew weary of the world and departed through “corpse liberation”—becoming immortal by leaving behind a body or using death to slip away. Still others succeeded in cultivating the Dao but chose to live in seclusion, cultivating only for themselves and refusing to leave a reputation in the world. How could their numbers ever be counted? Thus, mountain depths and secluded valleys have never lacked cultivators of the Dao. Some lived hidden lives, while others revealed themselves; how could anyone know them all?

In ancient times, nobles and powerful people were willing to set aside their status and honor worthy men because they knew that people of Dao and De existed in the world. Master Zhou said, “In Heaven and Earth, the Dao is most exalted, De is most precious, and human beings are hardest to find. People are hard to find because only those who cultivate Dao and De within themselves can attain them.”

The sages of old said, “A human body is hard to obtain, yet now you have obtained one. The Great Dao is hard to understand, yet now you understand it. If you cannot use this life to free yourself, in what future life will you do so?”

People in the world do not understand that this body is illusory and impermanent, formed only temporarily from the four elements of earth, water, fire, and wind. It vanishes as swiftly as bubbles on the water and lasts no longer than the spark struck from a stone. Though people are said to live for as long as a hundred years, few ever reach the age of seventy.

Human life is brief and fragile, yet each day people pursue things that are boundless and unpredictable. Once the breath ceases, a person suddenly departs this life. At death, the true spirit—the person’s spiritual nature—leaves its former body. At that point, even high rank and generous income, a home filled with treasures, and a beautiful wife must all be left behind; none of them remains one’s own. The only thing that follows a person is the karma of their deeds. Thus it is said: “Nothing can be taken along; only karma follows you.”

The Collected Works on Turning the Light Around says: “It is easier for an iron tree to bloom after a thousand years than for someone who has lost human form to regain it.”

The Awakening to Reality says: “Tell me, can gold piled up like a mountain buy back the delay of impermanence—of death?”

Lü Chunyang says: “Only after countless kalpas and lifetimes does one have a single chance to be born human. Know that this is the karmic connection planted in a previous life. You should awaken quickly and leave the path of delusion; do not suffer in the cycle of rebirth.”

Zhang Ziyang says: “Do not let the wind blow out the candle flame. If you fall into the Six Paths of rebirth—the six destinations through which beings pass in the cycle of life and death—do not blame Heaven.”

These words remind people again and again. How could they fail to awaken and cherish this life?

If people wish to escape the cycle of rebirth and free themselves from worldly entanglements, the best way is to cultivate the Golden Elixir, a Daoist term for the practice of internal alchemy. It is a spiritual ladder to ascend to Heaven and a path beyond the ordinary world. This practice is, in principle, exceedingly simple and easy: even those of dull ability or humble status can quickly enter the realm of sages if they practice. Sadly, among those who seek the Dao in the world, some have aspirations but cannot devote themselves fully; others become devoted but cannot practice diligently over time. Thus many study, but few truly attain success.

The Book of Documents says: “Knowing is not difficult; putting it into practice is difficult.”

The Daoist Classic says, “People of the highest capacity hear of the Dao and diligently put it into practice. If they hear it but do not practice, how could they ever cultivate the Dao to completion?”

Chen Niyuan said, “In the past, I practiced and received the true instructions. I worked at them from morning to night without a break. At last, one day, my practice was complete, though no one else knew it. All around me, everything was transformed into a radiance that gleamed like palace halls beneath the night sky.”

Ma Danyang said, “My master’s kindness is profound, and I can never repay it. I vow to remain faithful to the monastery until death and to cultivate the Way of utmost truth.”

Both of these men understood deeply that life and death are the great matters of human existence, and that change and impermanence come swiftly. They therefore stirred themselves to resolute action and summoned the strength to persevere. Without making such a great vow, how could one escape worldly constraints and ascend to the heavens?

Lü Zu (Lü Dongbin) once said, “Cultivate diligently for two or three years, and you may enjoy peace and ease for ten million kalpas.”

Heaven and earth, mountains and seas can all be overturned, sink, shift, or dry up. Only after attaining the Dao can one ride a flying dragon, travel amid purple mists, soar beyond the heavens, and roam freely through the void, no longer bound by the cycles of time or the limits of a lifespan. The true and constant essence is inexhaustible. Looking back at all the pleasures of the world, what could surpass this state of joy?

I once consulted the Dao De Jing, which says, “Even presenting fine jade together with a team of four horses is not as good as sitting down to cultivate this Dao.” This is why I wrote this essay.

On Nature and Life

Among all fields of learning, none is more important than investigating nature and life. For a long time, people in the world have failed to understand their principles.

What is meant by “nature”? It is the original, primordial reality: the mind’s nature, luminous and clear, shining with awareness and never obscured.

What is meant by “life”? It is the purest essence of the precelestial state: the gathering and flowing of original Qi.

Where there is nature, there is life; where there is life, there is nature. Nature and life cannot be separated. At the level of Heaven, it is called “life”; in the human person, it is called “nature.” In truth, nature and life are not two different things. Nature cannot be established apart from life, and life cannot endure apart from nature; their principles are, from the beginning, a seamless unity.

Thus the Book of Changes says, “The Way of Qian transforms and changes; each thing thereby sets its nature and destiny in order.” The Doctrine of the Mean says, “What Heaven bestows upon people is called destiny.” Both express this principle.

The Daoist tradition regards Qi (vital energy) as the basis of life and takes cultivating life as its main aim. It also makes “seeking the mysterious in the Water Palace”—seeking the subtle within places associated with water, such as the kidneys and lower Dantian (energy center)—an important means of establishing its teachings. Therefore, to speak at length about life while saying little about nature is to misunderstand nature and, in the end, to misunderstand life as well.

Chan Buddhism regards Shen (spirit) as the basis of nature and takes cultivating nature as its main aim. It also makes “cultivating meditative concentration in the Li Palace”—practicing meditation where the heart and spirit reside—an important means of establishing its teachings. Therefore, to speak at length about nature while saying little about life is to misunderstand life and, in the end, to misunderstand nature as well.

How could one know that nature and life were never separate, and that Daoism and Buddhism do not differ in their fundamental principles? Although Shen and Qi perform different functions, cultivating nature and cultivating life should proceed together.

The worthy cultivate learning by keeping to the original mind and nourishing their nature, and by cultivating themselves to establish their life. The sages cultivate learning by bringing their nature fully into play and thereby fulfilling Heaven’s mandate.

“Nature” is the source of Shen. Shen has its root in nature, but nature itself is not Shen; Shen’s numinous clarity comes from nature. “Life” is the source of Qi. Qi has its root in life, but life itself is not Qi; Qi’s arising and unfolding come from life.

The Jing (essence) within the body is still and unmoving. It holds within it a robust, centered, pure, and subtle essence. This is where nature resides and the foundation of life.

The Shen within the heart responds to events and thereby reaches through to understanding. Emotions and desires—joy, anger, sorrow, fear, love, aversion, and longing—become active through it. This is where life resides and the pivot of nature.

Although nature is expressed through the heart, its pure and subtle essence remains where nature resides and the foundation of life. When the Shen within the heart responds to events, it reaches through to understanding; joy, anger, sorrow, fear, love, aversion, and longing become active through it. This is where life resides and the pivot of nature.

Nature is expressed through the heart, where a spirit is numinously clear and calm. Life is expressed through the body, where Qi circulates and flows. Thus, body and heart are the dwelling places of spirit, while spirit is the root of nature and life.

How a person’s nature—their inner, numinous awareness—changes depends on the mind; how life and the body, the foundations of one’s existence, change depends on the body. A person’s views and knowledge arise from the mind. Thought, concern, and intention are all ways the mind directs one’s nature. A person’s actions and responses take shape through the body. Speaking or keeping silent, looking or listening, all tire the body and burden life.

When life is burdened by the body, it undergoes birth and death. When nature is directed by thoughts, it comes and goes with them. With birth and death, one cannot truly understand the root of life; with coming and going, one cannot fully realize one’s nature.

All that fills the space between Heaven and Earth is the ceaselessly generative Qi. It takes part in the workings of Heaven and Earth and brings the myriad things to life. Is this not the unending flow of life-giving Qi? The principles of life are contained within life itself. All that fills the space between Heaven and Earth is also the nature of numinous awareness. Its radiance shines above and below, like the light of the sun and moon. What has not yet appeared as a particular nature, yet enables my nature to take shape, is the source of nature. What has not yet appeared as a particular life, yet enables my life to take shape, is the source of life. The principles of life are contained within life itself.

Heaven’s aperture is round and stores nature; Earth’s aperture is square and stores life. Humans receive the empty, bright, subtle, and wondrous Qi to form their nature, and establish their lives by dwelling between Heaven and Earth. Once nature and life are established, they contain Shen (spirit and numinous awareness). The foundation of life is original Qi, the Qi at the source of life; the foundation of nature is original Shen, the spirit at its source. When Shen is settled in the mind and Qi gathered in the body, the Dao is present within them.

There are two kinds of nature: temperament-shaped nature, influenced by one’s endowment and habits, and innate nature, bestowed from the beginning. There are also two kinds of life: allotted life, the share and limits one receives, and embodied life, formed from the body and breath.

The exemplary person cultivates innate nature and restrains temperament-shaped nature; cultivates embodied life and entrusts allotted life to nature. Considered separately, nature and life are two aspects; considered together, they are one. Their unity contains its own principle.

Therefore, Shen and Qi cannot be separated, and Qi cannot exist apart from Shen. Only when one’s own Shen and Qi have fused do nature and life become manifest. Nature does not depart from life, nor does life depart from nature. Only when one’s own nature and life have fused do nature and life appear as they originally were, before anything arose. This original nature and life are the human being’s true nature and life. The human being’s true nature and life are also the true nature and life of Heaven and Earth, and likewise the true nature and life of empty space.

Thus, sages uphold precepts, concentration, and wisdom—restraining body and mind, bringing the mind to rest, and opening wisdom—to make the mind empty and still. They also refine and nurture Jing, Qi, and Shen to preserve the body. When the body is preserved, the foundation of life remains firmly rooted for a long time; when the mind is empty and still, the substance of nature remains bright and clear. When the substance of nature is always clear, it is not bound by coming and going; when the foundation of life is forever firm, there is no concern with death and birth. What disappears in death is only the physical form. A person’s true nature and life are linked with day and night, joined with Heaven and Earth, and extend through past and present. How could they ever truly have been extinguished?

Consider plants and trees: when they return to the root and restore their life, nature is contained within them. When nature manifests as Shen, flowers open; when flowers bear fruit, life is once again contained within them. To pass from Shen within the physical form into nature within Shen is called “returning to the root and restoring life.”

Take as a metaphor the union of man and woman and the joining of Jing and Qi: a trace of life enters the womb, Qi combines to form life, and nature is present within it. This is like Yin-Yang interacting: a trace of life settles in the “Yellow Center,” the central position, and nature takes form. When the subtle elements unite and coalesce, they become an unfathomable, wondrous function. This is called the “wondrous union of nature and life.”

“Returning to the root and restoring life” refers to returning from the outward physical form to life’s root. The “wondrous union of nature and life” refers to nature and life joining together and manifesting as one.

If they do not understand the principle of the wondrous union of nature and life, those who cultivate worldly affairs will neglect life. They will not even know the subtle essentials of following their nature—so how can they speak of cultivation? Such people either fall into unrestrained indulgence or sink into empty stillness and nothingness. If they do not know their own life, where can they ultimately return?

Those who cultivate life, in turn, neglect nature. They do not even understand the work of realizing life’s source—so how can they preserve it? Such people either cling to deliberate contrivance or stray into Wuwei (non-action) and empty stillness. If they do not know their own nature, how can they escape calamity? Could the founders of Buddhism and Daoism have practiced in this way?

I have heard that Shakyamuni was born in the West and also attained the Way of the Golden Elixir. This is the highest method of cultivating nature and life together, and is called the “Golden Immortal”—an immortal who has perfected the Golden Elixir and brought nature and life to completion.

The Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) also said, “To know only how to cultivate nature and not how to cultivate life is the foremost failing in practice. If one cultivates only one’s original nature and not the Golden Elixir, then even after enduring ten thousand kalpas, the yin spirit will still find it difficult to enter the sacred realm.”

Today, some who practice guiding and stretching exercises take the physical body to be nature and life. Some who refine Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) take spirit and vital energy to be nature and life. Others who cultivate nature and life likewise mistake their own notions of nature and life for the real thing. These practices do not benefit nature and life; they harm them instead. It is truly lamentable not to grasp the truth of nature and life.

So I have explained it this way: In the mother’s womb, a person’s breathing is connected to the mother’s body, and depends on the mother’s nature and life, not on an independent nature and life of their own. Only after birth, when the umbilical cord is cut, does a person begin to have a nature and life of their own. Yet this still is not the true, constant nature and life. One must cultivate within this life of one’s own, nurture the “countenance of the Qian Origin” (the primordial, yang aspect represented by Qian), and reveal a trace of “true numinous awareness.”

When form rests upon form, form will not decay; when spirit rests upon nature, spirit will not perish.

The physical form depends on form in order to exist, so it can endure as long as it has not been destroyed. The spirit depends on one’s nature in order to exist, so it does not perish. By knowing one’s nature and fully realizing it, one can fathom the essence of life and reach the source of one’s destiny. This is what is called the original substance of the void; it has no end. Even if Heaven and Earth were destroyed, this substance would remain undestroyed. Through it, one can establish nature and life anew and recreate Heaven and Earth.

Thus, a Daoist who does not understand this is said to follow a heterodox path; a Buddhist who does not understand it is said to follow an external path. How, then, could they accord with the virtue of Heaven and Earth and become one with the Great Void—the boundless original substance of emptiness? Alas! At this point, there is no further essential principle to be said about nature and life.

On Death and Life

People all crave life and fear death because they do not understand the principles of death and life: where life comes from, and where death returns. They concern themselves only with schemes and striving while alive, greatly damaging the Way of life and losing their freedom and ease. Then, after death, they remain lost and adrift, with no clear destination. Unless they see through the gate of life and death, they will ultimately fall into the cycle of rebirth.

For this reason, the Immortals and Buddhas came into the world, earnestly using a great fundamental matter as the occasion to help people understand where life comes from and where it goes, and to guide them step by step out of the sea of suffering that is life and death. The Classic of Changes, in its “Appended Statements,” says, “Trace things to their beginning and follow them to their end.” This means investigating the origins of things and pursuing them to their conclusion. From this we can understand that, in the teaching on death and life, the beginning without a beginning is provisionally called the “Origin of Qian” (the source from which all things arise); it is also the wondrous awareness originally inherent in us. The end without an end is provisionally called the “Shore of the Dao” (the far shore that leads to liberation); it is also Nirvana without remainder (a state of complete stillness and liberation, with no attachments left).

At the beginning of life, this is the fundamental reason a person can be born. At death, this is likewise why a person does not vanish completely. If one does not understand this, one will come into existence with birth and perish with death, sinking into lower realms and repeatedly appearing and disappearing without end.

At the beginning of life, the eighth consciousness, “the spirit Alaya” (a deep level of consciousness in Buddhist Yogācāra thought), is in control; at death, it is in control as well. When a being is conceived, this consciousness arrives first; when it leaves the body, it departs last. Hence the saying: “It is last to leave and first to arrive; it is the one that governs both.”

The scripture says that when good karma takes shape, the body gradually grows cold from the feet upward; when bad karma takes shape, it grows cold from the head downward. In either case, the cold reaches the heart and chest, where life finally ceases at the same point. At that moment, the body is like a living turtle pulled from its shell or a living crab dropped into boiling water: the Four Great Elements of earth, water, fire, and wind—the basic elements that make up the body—separate from one another.

After the spirit consciousness leaves the body, the world it sees is blurred, like ink splashed across a surface; it cannot distinguish things or tell up from down. It sees only a faint glimmer in a place with which it has an affinity. Seeing bright forms, it gives rise to the mind that sees; as thoughts flow, desire becomes a seed. The spirit consciousness gathers these thoughts and forms a fetus, enters the mother’s body, and receives breath and shape. Through the breath, the Four Great Elements of earth, water, fire, and wind quickly take form, and the body’s sense organs gradually develop. The mind quickly acquires the Four Aggregates of feeling, perception, mental activity, and consciousness, and its various faculties of awareness gradually emerge.

After ten months in the womb, the child is born when its time comes. Birth is like heaven and earth turning upside down: the mother’s body is shaken, the amniotic sac breaks, and the infant seems to fall from a height, hanging head downward with its feet braced, before giving a cry. The innate True Origin (the life force present from birth) settles in the Ancestral Aperture (the Daoist root of life). By day it resides in the eyes, hidden in the Muddy Pellet (the brain palace in the head); by night it lies concealed in the two kidneys and gathers in the Cinnabar Cauldron (the part of the body where vital energy is refined). Milk nourishes the five organs, and breath circulates through the six bowels. The infant’s bones are soft as silk floss and its skin smooth and tender as malt syrup—signs that Jing and Qi are at their fullest. Its gaze is steady and its cry clear—signs that body and mind are perfectly harmonized. At this time, the infant remains in a state of undivided chaos, pure stillness, and unknowing, corresponding to the Yin trigram Kun.

From the age of one to three, the infant gradually grows; the five organs are nourished, and the breath fills the six bowels. The scripture says that at this time the primal Qi increases by sixty-four zhu (an ancient unit of weight), and the first Yang begins to emerge, as symbolized by the Returning hexagram Fu.

At the age of five, another sixty-four zhu of primordial Qi (the precelestial vital energy) is added, corresponding to the Lin hexagram and symbolizing the beginning growth of two yang lines.

At the age of eight, another sixty-four zhu of primordial Qi is added, corresponding to the Tai hexagram and symbolizing the emergence of three yang lines.

At the age of ten, another sixty-four zhu of primordial Qi is added, corresponding to the Dazhuang hexagram and symbolizing the emergence of four yang lines.

At the age of thirteen, another sixty-four zhu of primordial Qi is added, corresponding to the Guai hexagram and symbolizing the emergence of five yang lines.

At the age of sixteen, another sixty-four zhu of primordial Qi is added. All six yang lines are now complete, forming the Qian hexagram.

The pure Qi generated by Heaven and Earth amounts to three hundred and sixty zhu. Added to the twenty-four zhu of ancestral Qi inherited from one’s parents—the fundamental precelestial energy—the total is three hundred and eighty-four zhu. This corresponds fully to one cycle of cosmic transformation, or one jin in weight.

At this point, pure yang Qi is abundant, faint yin Qi has not yet arisen, and Jing and Qi are full. With guidance from a discerning teacher, one can cultivate nature and life—the mind and body, and the roots of life—and make rapid progress.

From then on, whenever desire stirs, primordial Qi is depleted. If one does not understand restraint and continues to indulge in desire, then between the ages of sixteen and twenty-four, sixty-four zhu of primordial Qi will be lost. This corresponds to the Gou hexagram and symbolizes the first arising of one yin line. All things begin to reveal their distinct forms; simplicity and sincerity gradually give way to superficiality, and naturalness slowly dissipates. Though one has not yet strayed far from the source, one should be alert to these first signs. If one practices diligently, one may be said to have returned to the right path in time.

By the age of thirty-two, another sixty-four zhu of primordial Qi have been lost, corresponding to the Dun hexagram. This symbolizes the gradual growth of two yin lines and the gradual decline of yang Qi. Desires and thoughts arise in profusion, and the true primordial Qi dissipates. Yet at this stage, the blood and Qi are still vigorous, and one’s resolve remains firm and decisive. If one practices diligently, it is still relatively easy to establish the foundation of the Dantian—the basis for Neidan cultivation.

By the age of forty, another sixty-four zhu of primordial Qi have been lost, corresponding to the Pi hexagram. The Qi of Heaven and Earth no longer intermingle, and yin and yang each return to their respective positions: yin Qi governs within, while yang Qi loses its place without. If one practices diligently, a perilous condition can still be turned toward safety, and the roots of decline can still be preserved.

At forty-eight, another sixty-four zhu of original Qi (primordial vital energy) has been depleted, corresponding to the hexagram Guan (Contemplation). The Qi of Heaven and Earth can no longer join; Yin and Yang each return to their former positions: Yin governs within, while Yang is displaced outside. With diligent cultivation, this perilous and weakened state can still turn toward stability, and the original Qi, on the verge of decline, can still be preserved.

At forty-eight, another sixty-four zhu of original Qi has been depleted, corresponding to the hexagram Guan. In this hexagram, only two Yang lines remain below, and the power of Yang has grown weak. The Yin lines continue to rise, and Yin gradually flourishes. With diligent cultivation, one can restrain the growing Yin softness and support the De of Yang as it steadily wanes.

At fifty-six, another sixty-four zhu of original Qi has been depleted, corresponding to the hexagram Bo (Stripping Away). Five Yin lines have risen, and one Yang line is about to retreat below. Yin is flourishing, while little Yang remains. With diligent cultivation, one can add fuel to wood that is nearly burned through, or bring rain to grain on the verge of withering, and so still rescue the weakened vitality.

At sixty-four, one complete cycle of hexagram Qi has run its course. The original Qi received from Heaven and Earth, one’s parents, amounts to 384 zhu, equal to one jin. It has now been entirely depleted, and one has returned to the hexagram Kun (the Receptive). Pure Yin now governs, and Yang has not yet begun to emerge. Through diligent cultivation—continually gathering and refining the substances needed for internal alchemy, and continually replenishing and renewing vitality through cultivation—one can bring Yang forth again when Yin is at its height. When things reach their extreme, they turn back; weakness can become strength, and an aged body can regain its vigor.

If at this time one cannot meet a realized adept who has mastered the Dao and can impart its essential instructions, one should cultivate urgently. This may preserve what remains of life, but it relies only on the nourishment of grain to sustain postnatal vital energy. The primordial original Qi is no longer present. How, then, could one attain immortality?

Thus the transformations of all things revolve without cease: emptiness transforms into spirit, spirit into Qi, Qi into blood, blood into form, form into an infant, the infant into a child, the child into an adolescent, the adolescent into an adult, the adult gradually grows old, and the old person dies. After death, one transforms again into emptiness; emptiness becomes spirit, spirit becomes Qi, and Qi becomes the myriad things. These transformations follow one another without interruption, like a ring without end.

All things may not wish to be born, yet they have no choice but to be born; all things may not wish to die, yet they have no choice but to die. Though the world endlessly brings forth and extinguishes life, and all things change without cease, living beings still cannot escape the sea of suffering. They are reborn, age after age, in a cycle with no beginning and no end, like the wheel of a water-drawing well turning round and round. Among ordinary people in the Three Realms—the Desire Realm, the Form Realm, and the Formless Realm—there is no one who does not remain caught in this cycle.

People therefore do not know where life comes from. To investigate this, one must trace life back to its source, before one’s parents gave birth to oneself. Where does death come from? Only by understanding where life begins can one understand where it returns. People also do not ask where they go after death; instead, one must examine what happens after the hun departs and the po disperses. Only by understanding where life returns can one know death’s final destination. The conditions for death arise from life, while the conditions for life are rooted in death. Without factors that lead a person toward death, death would not occur; without factors that bring a person into birth, birth would not occur. The conditions for life and death are linked, and so people are born and die. When these conditions no longer bind one another, those who have accomplished their cultivation can transcend life and death. It is the body that undergoes life and death; the mind is not governed by them. When the mind returns to the right path, it is born; when it loses the right path, it dies. In this way, danger can become safety, and what has been lost can be preserved.

At the age of forty-eight, one loses another sixty-four zhu of Original Qi, the vital energy at life’s root, corresponding to the Contemplation hexagram in the Book of Changes. In this hexagram, the two yang lines are on the outside, and yang De is gradually weakening; the yin lines continue to rise, and yin energy grows strong. With diligent cultivation, one can restrain the growing force of yin softness and support the yang De as it wanes.

At the age of fifty-six, one loses another sixty-four zhu of Original Qi, corresponding to the Stripping hexagram in the Book of Changes. Five yin lines rise together, and the final yang line is about to retreat to the bottom. Yin energy is strong, and only a little yang energy remains. With diligent cultivation, one can add firewood to a fire that is nearly spent, or send sweet rain to seedlings on the verge of withering.

By the age of sixty-four, the Qi movements corresponding to the sixty-four hexagrams have completed one full cycle within the human body. The original Qi (the primordial, pre-Heavenly energy) received from Heaven, Earth, and one’s parents amounts to 384 zhu, equivalent to one jin. By this time it has been completely spent, and one has returned to the state of pure Yin symbolized by the Kun hexagram. Yin Qi is in command, while Yang Qi has yet to sprout. If one practices diligently at this point, continually gathering the ingredients and cultivating their union—the Neidan terms for gathering and refining the ingredients so that Yin and Yang Qi join—then Yang Qi can arise at the height of Yin. What has reached its extreme can turn and rise again; weakness can become strength, and frailty can recover its vigor.

If one has not met a perfected person—someone accomplished in cultivation who can offer guidance—but rushes into practice, one may perhaps preserve the remaining years of life. Yet one would rely only on the nourishment of grain to replenish acquired essence and Qi. The original, pre-Heavenly Qi would already be gone. How, then, could one attain long life and escape death?

This is how the transformations proceed: Emptiness becomes spirit; spirit becomes Qi; Qi becomes blood; blood becomes the body. The body becomes an infant; the infant grows into a child, the child into an adolescent, and the adolescent into an adult. Adulthood gives way to old age, and old age to death. After death, one becomes Emptiness again; Emptiness becomes spirit, spirit becomes Qi, and Qi becomes the myriad things. These transformations never cease. They circulate without end, like a ring.

The myriad things do not wish to be born, yet they must be born; nor do they wish to die, yet they must die. As the things of the world arise, perish, and transform, people remain unable to escape the sea of suffering. They can only be born again and again, endlessly reincarnating, with neither end nor beginning, like the turning wheel of a well pulley. Among ordinary beings in the Three Realms, none escapes this entanglement.

People in the world do not know where life comes from. To understand this, one must trace it back to before one’s parents conceived. Only by knowing where life comes from can one know where it will go after death. People also do not understand where the hun and po souls go after death. To learn this, one must examine what happens after the hun leaves the body and the po returns to the earth. Only by understanding where life will go can one know where the dead go.

The conditions that give rise to death begin in life, while the conditions that give rise to life have their roots in death. Without the conditions for death, there would be no death; without the conditions for life, there would be no life. Because the conditions for life and death are bound up with one another, people experience birth and death. When those conditions no longer bind one to one another, those who have succeeded in cultivating the Dao can transcend life and death. It is the body that undergoes life and death; the mind is not confined by them. When the mind repeatedly sinks into delusion, it becomes confused. When it can turn back from delusion, it can return to clarity.

Therefore, the immortals and Buddhas, moved by compassion for all beings, say that everyone originally possesses a numinous, true awareness—the innate clarity and awareness of one’s nature—but it is obscured by ignorance and delusion, so that it cannot be seen. Thus the nature bestowed by Heaven’s mandate drifts with circumstances, sinking deeper and deeper without ever awakening. Across generation after generation, beings fall into degradation; sometimes they are reborn as other kinds of creatures, their spirit dwelling in a different kind of body. Then it becomes difficult for their truest root of nature to return to human form.

I should guide all beings by means of the sacred Dao, so that they may forever free themselves from delusion and attain the long life spoken of by the immortals and the deathlessness spoken of by the Buddhas.

On the False and the True

The Great Dao gives rise to Heaven and Earth, and Heaven and Earth in turn give rise to human beings and the myriad things. Heaven, Earth, humanity, and things share the same nature and all come from one source. Heaven has Yin and Yang; Earth has firmness and gentleness; the myriad things have female and male; human beings have women and men.

From Yin and Yang come the sun, moon, and stars; from firmness and gentleness come mountains, rivers, plants, and trees; from female and male come the various forms of life, including those born from the womb, from eggs, from moisture, and through transformation; from women and men come marriage and procreation.

All beings unite through sexual desire between men and women, and the birth of children gives rise to affection and attachment. Desire and love bring obstacles from demons and vexations; these in turn bring all kinds of suffering, through which people experience birth, aging, illness, and death.

Therefore, the Most High—a Daoist honorific for the Dao—cherishing the virtue of life, opened a path to aid the world and save people. He wrote scriptures, established methods of cultivation, and taught people to return to simplicity and purity. When free of desire, contemplate the subtle Dao; when desire arises, contemplate the essentials of cultivation. Empty and quiet the mind and spirit, abide in stillness, return to the root and restore one’s nature. Return to the source early, and continually build up one’s cultivation so that the foundation grows firm. Grasp the One, the root of the Dao, and maintain the middle and upright way. Be humble yet inwardly full; weaken the drive to contend, strengthen body and mind, and return to simplicity and sincerity.

The central teaching, repeated throughout, is that stillness and simplicity are the essentials of cultivation: blunt the sharp edges and resolve conflict; gather in one’s radiance and live among ordinary people without opposing them. Gather Jing and Qi so that body and mind become gentle; focus wholly on the Dao and never depart from it. Understand the use of strength, yet remain with weakness; know brightness, yet dwell in darkness. Close the gates and gather in the senses—so that external things do not pull the mind and spirit away. Keep a plain exterior while concealing the precious Dao within.

In a state of deep obscurity, indistinct and difficult to fathom, what Jing and Qi give form to is life. When Jing and Qi do not flow outward, the root of life is preserved. The Qi of life grows day by day; when Jing is not depleted, it will not wither. Jing can transform into Qi, Qi into Shen, and Shen can return to emptiness. Then the transformations of the Five Phases cannot take it away, nor can the forces of Yin-Yang control it. The cultivator becomes one with the Dao and transcends the limits of Heaven and Earth. This is Laozi’s Dao of stillness and namelessness.

It was only in the Han dynasty, when the Perfected Wei Boyang, a Daoist alchemist, paid homage to the Jing of Gold and Jade and wrote the Cantong Qi (Token for Joining the Three), that terms such as “dragon lead” and “tiger mercury” first appeared. From the Tang and Song dynasties onward, immortals appeared one after another, and alchemical scriptures flourished. Alchemical writings present a great variety of teachings and countless different names. But at their root, they do no more than use different names to describe the same thing.

When eminent masters expound the teachings, they often do so in great detail, hoping that everyone will understand and each person will succeed in cultivating the true Dao. Yet people have not realized that the more abstruse the terminology, the more complicated the principles and methods of cultivation become; the more books there are, the more obscure the teachings grow. Moreover, many alchemical texts use coded language and metaphors to conceal the methods so deeply that learners cannot find even a starting point for understanding. They often read until their eyes grow weary and their minds confused, and can only gaze across an impassable expanse in frustration.

Fortunately, Perfected Yin (a perfected adept in the Daoist cultivation tradition) appeared, seeking to continue the thread of transmission of the Great Dao and restore the ancient teachings that had been without names or words. He removed the complicated material, selected the essential points, swept away the metaphors, and directly revealed the true principles. He set out the correct teachings and, following diagrams, established corresponding images. Where something was difficult to express in writing, he still found a way to write it down; where something was difficult to explain in speech, he pointed it out directly: what lead and mercury, Dragon and Tiger, cauldron and furnace, and medicinal substances are; what is meant by gathering, drawing out and replenishing, nurturing, and the timing of the fire; and what the true seed, true nature and life, forming the embryo, and completion are. He explained all of these things one by one, concealing nothing. In this way, those who later aspired to cultivate the Dao would no longer be bewildered by the coded language of alchemical texts.

Alchemical texts and Daoist works are as numerous as piled-up grain. Many discuss the principles, but few preserve concrete formulas for cultivation. At the beginning, they do not explain how to start and enter the method; in the middle, they do not describe how to gather the medicinal substances and form the embryo; and at the end, they do not explain the ultimate destination of cultivation. If later generations do not understand the order of cultivation, how can they connect its various stages? They are bound to reverse the steps and confuse their sequence. Many people study the Dao all their lives without even finding a way to begin. Some occasionally enter the method but do not know how to advance further; some have advanced but do not know how to go further still; and some make progress yet remain unsure how to reach a deeper state. Therefore, cultivating step by step is essential to cultivating the true, and cannot be omitted.

My favorite four lines of verse in the “Treasury of Scriptures” are: “Living beings are without limit; I vow to save them all. Afflictions are without limit; I vow to end them all. Dharma gates are immeasurable; I vow to study them all. The Buddha Way is supreme; I vow to attain it.” The World-Honored One also said, “First save all living beings, and then become a Buddha yourself.” This stirred a compassionate thought in me. I resolved to reveal completely the secret teachings transmitted by my master, holding nothing back, in the hope that those with the right connections in generations to come might return to the heavenly realm and no longer sink into the sea of suffering. This is the true intent of my heart.

First: Nurture the root of life and guard the precious life you have been given.

Second: Settle the mind-spirit at the ancestral aperture, regarded in cultivation as the place where spirit and Qi gather, and gather in precelestial Qi.

Third: Let the breath sink into the Qi cavity, where the movement of Qi is stored and nurtured in inner cultivation, so that all mysteries ultimately return to their root.

Fourth: Let Heaven and humanity respond to one another, gather the Qi of the medicinal substance, and draw it back into the vessel. “Gathering the medicine” is a term in Neidan cultivation: it means gathering and refining Jing, Qi, and other substances within the body, not collecting medicinal herbs.

Fifth: Bring Qian and Kun into union, removing impurities and retaining the essence. Here, “Qian and Kun” refer to Yin and Yang; “ore” is a metaphor for impurities, and “gold” for the essence.

Sixth: Place the numinous elixir in the cauldron to warm and nurture it, gradually cultivating the sacred embryo, a metaphor in Neidan cultivation for the inner spirit developed through practice.

Seventh: The infant appears, and one leaves the sea of suffering. “Infant” is a symbolic expression in Neidan cultivation for the spiritual attainment gained through practice.

Eighth: Move the mind-spirit to the inner court, sit upright, and focus the spirit in stillness.

Ninth: Bring one’s original nature to the state of emptiness and transcend the Three Realms: the Desire Realm, the Form Realm, and the Formless Realm.

There are also inner cultivation methods such as refining the form, forming the embryo, and regulating the firing times. These are used to complete the practice of the Nine Cycles of Returning the Elixir.

The formulas of the Great Dao have now been fully explained. Yet today, some who practice the Dao wear tall hats and square robes and consider themselves content and self-sufficient. They refuse to humble themselves and seek the methods of cultivation needed to complete the practice of the Nine Cycles of Returning the Elixir.

The formulas for the Great Dao have now been fully set forth. Today, some people who practice the Dao wear lofty hats and Daoist robes and think that is enough. They refuse to humble themselves and seek a teacher’s guidance on the stages of cultivation, and instead grope blindly until they stray onto side paths. How could they know that, though there are 3,600 Daoist methods and twenty-four grades of the Great Elixir, this passage regards them all as side paths? Only the method of the Golden Elixir is the proper road of cultivation. Beyond it, there is no other way to become an immortal or a Buddha.

Thus, at the assembly where the Lotus Sutra was taught, the World-Honored One, Shakyamuni Buddha, said: “There is only this one true Dharma; the other two are not ultimately true.”

Perfected Yin said: “There are ninety-six kinds of heterodox teaching and 3,600 side paths. However they may change, they are all illusory. Only what I have said is true.”

Perfected Yunfang said: “There are 3,600 gates of Daoist practice, and each person clings to one method of their own. Who knows that the subtle, mysterious key—the point of insight into the Great Dao in cultivation—lies outside these 3,600 methods?”

The wondrous Dao seems hard to encounter. It is easy to begin following it, but genuine attainment and visible results come only after a long time. Minor, unorthodox techniques seem easy to learn, yet are hard to master, though they produce quick effects. For this reason, people greedy for wealth and lustful for sex are often led astray by them and cannot come to their senses.

These practices take many forms. Some become obsessed with refining elixirs over a furnace; others speak of cultivating with the help of another person. Some focus on parts of the body such as the crown of the head, the navel, or the Yintang point between the eyebrows. Others roll their eyes, massage the abdomen, or shake the Jiaji area along the spine. Some use techniques to contract the external genitals or rotate the spine; others pursue bedroom arts such as the so-called “Three Peaks” and “dueling harvest,” or “feeding on milk before the furnace.” Some hold their breath and circulate Qi, or perform bending and stretching exercises, cultivating and refining among the upper, middle, and lower Dantian (energy centers). Others draw up the perineum, rub the back and lie on ice, or consume lingzhi and atractylodes; they swallow saliva and regulate their breathing.

Some engage in inner visualization, abstain from food, endure the cold, or eat filth. Some circulate Jing and Qi, observe the nose and regulate the breath, leave their wives to enter the mountains, or still the mind and visualize their own bodies. Some imitate bears climbing trees or birds spreading their wings, gather rosy clouds and ingest Qi, sit for long periods without sleep, or cultivate through seclusion, meditation, silence, and fasting. Others dream of roaming the realms of immortals, silently worship the Heavenly Emperor, recite secret incantations to drive away evil, or cultivate by listening to and reciting scriptures.

Some call swallowing their own semen “returning to the origin,” call clenching the weilü point near the base of the spine “closing the pass,” and call refining urine “autumn nourishment.” Some use menstrual blood as “red lead,” take the placenta to refine “Purple River Cart,” or use black lead to make so-called male and female swords. Others close their eyes and quiet the mind while practicing the Eight Brocades, or exhale the old and inhale the new while practicing the Six Healing Sounds. They cultivate facing a wall and set their minds on subduing dragons and tigers; they hope to lighten their bodies and ascend, riding the wind and clouds. They swallow the refined essence and radiance of Qi, gather the energies of the sun and moon, tread the stellar steps to observe the constellations, or perform rites according to the sequence of the hexagram lines.

Some refine plants and trees over a fire, seeking the art of transmuting base metals into gold and silver. Some yearn for immortality, or fix their hopes on ascending to heaven. Some cling to concrete forms; others sink into emptiness and cannot return. Some observe precepts, practice meditation and cultivate wisdom in the hope of liberation. Some seek to rid themselves of greed, anger, and delusion and attain purity and stillness. While alive, some hope to transcend the mundane world and be reborn in the Western Paradise; others hope to ascend to heaven after death. Practices of this kind are so varied and confused that they are difficult to list one by one.

Some people in Daoism and Buddhism cling to a particular technique or formula and conclude that the Great Way of the Golden Elixir—the Daoist method of cultivating Neidan (internal alchemy) and seeking a fundamental transformation of life—consists of nothing more. Alas, they are like people peering at a leopard through a bamboo tube or gazing at the sky from the bottom of a well: they see only a corner of the whole, yet presume to draw all manner of conclusions, reducing the Way to fragments. They divide the Great Way into separate schools and sects, using one error to guide another, and practice blindly. They refuse to reflect on the fact that they have already taken a wrong path, and instead teach that path to others.

For this reason, Wang Liangqi wrote “Song for Breaking Delusions,” Chen Niniwan wrote “Rhapsody on Mount Luofu,” and Zhongli Weng wrote “Song of the Correct Way.” Each pointed out the problems with various heterodox methods, hoping to correct the mistake of people straying onto deviant paths.

Some methods can indeed treat illness, support the elderly and frail, extend life, and help people live comfortably in this world. Occasionally, someone may even attain transcendence through them, but at most they become an immortal of Peng Island, said to dwell in the immortal realm of Penglai, or attain the fruit of arhatship, the state of liberation reached by a Buddhist practitioner.

Thus Fu Dashi said, “Even after passing through eighty thousand kalpas, one ultimately returns to emptiness and stillness.” This is a practice of the Lesser Vehicle and does not accord with the complete state of the Great Way.

Zhang Pingzhu said, “Those who cultivate immortality should learn from the Celestial Immortals; only the Way of the Golden Elixir is truly correct.”

The Way of the Golden Elixir is in fact simple and uncomplicated: it takes emptiness as its foundation and stillness and purity as its function. First, one lays the groundwork through deliberate cultivation; then one reaches completion through Wuwei (non-action). From beginning to end, there is nothing lofty or difficult about it. Sadly, people abandon what is near for what is far, and what is easy for what is hard; they turn away from the light and head into darkness. It is truly regrettable.

“Gold” means firmness; “Elixir” is a metaphor for completeness. It refers to the sea of Vairocana-nature, a Buddhist term for the all-pervading, pure, and perfectly integrated source of Buddha-nature, and to the original face of the Qianyuan, a Daoist term for life’s primordial reality. The World-Honored One, an honorific title for the Buddha, called it “emptiness that is not empty” or the “Tathāgatagarbha,” the inherent nature that holds the potential for Buddhahood. The Old Lord called it “mysterious upon mysterious” or the “Gate of the Myriad Wonders.” In this sense, it is the supreme Dao and the highest Vehicle. The true paths of cultivation transmitted by the sages of the Three Teachings all arise from it. What could be more correct than this?

What you describe is the supreme Dao. The method explained from it is called the “Supreme Vehicle Method,” the highest level of spiritual cultivation. The proper path of practice for sages of the Three Teachings—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—comes from this. What could be more correct than this?

My original intention was to take advantage of this flourishing and enlightened age to plant, together with all living beings, wholesome seeds rooted in Qianyuan, the original source of the Dao of Heaven, and to form fellow practitioners for the Dragon Flower Assembly, the great gathering where Maitreya Buddha is destined to attain awakening and teach the Dharma. I therefore set down these words to turn people from false teachings back to the right path, and to explain clearly the various diagrams and methods taught by my teacher, so that practitioners can use them to verify the alchemical scriptures and understand them at a glance.

These diagrams are called the “Diagram of Universal Illumination,” the “Diagram of Reflective Illumination,” the “Diagram of Timely Illumination,” and the “Diagram of Inner Illumination.”

This supreme method is what the Wan Shen Gui Zhi (a Daoist cultivation manual) describes.

A person’s original Qi is in motion and transformation every day. At the hour of Zi (midnight), the Qi of the Fu hexagram moves to the coccyx region; at the hour of Chou, the Qi of the Lin hexagram moves to the back; at the hour of Yin, the Qi of the Tai hexagram moves to Xuanshu; at the hour of Mao, the Qi of the Dazhuang hexagram moves to the space between the shoulder blades; at the hour of Chen, the Qi of the “Shu” hexagram moves to Taodao; at the hour of Si, the Qi of the Qian hexagram moves to Yuzhen; at the hour of Wu, the Qi of the Gou hexagram moves to the Niwan, a place of cultivation inside the head; at the hour of Wei, the Qi of the “Tun” hexagram moves to Ming Tang; at the hour of Shen, the Qi of the Pi hexagram moves to the center of the chest; at the hour of You, the Qi of the Guan hexagram moves to Zhonghuan; at the hour of Xu, the Qi of the Bo hexagram moves to Qianque; and at the hour of Hai, the Qi of the Kun hexagram returns to the Sea of Qi, the Dantian in the lower abdomen. Here, the twelve double-hours are matched with hexagrams and bodily locations to describe the circulation of original Qi throughout the body.

The human body has the Ren and Du channels, two important meridians that govern the movement of Yin and Yang Qi. The Ren channel begins below Zhongji, runs upward through the abdomen, passes Guanyuan, and reaches the throat; it is known as the “sea of Yin channels.” The Du channel begins at the lower extremity, runs through the interior of the spine, reaches Fengfu, and then continues along the forehead to the nose; it is known as the “sea of Yang channels.” The deer’s movement of its coccyx is said to open the Du channel, while the tortoise’s regulated breathing through the nose is said to open the Ren channel. If a person can open both channels, this can set all the body’s channels in motion.

The heart is the body’s ruler, and mental awareness arises from it. The lungs assist in conveying and coordinating the body’s activities; through them, the body’s regulatory functions are carried out. The liver is like a general, responsible for planning and deliberation; the gallbladder is like an official who upholds justice, responsible for making decisions. The area between the breasts, called the chest center, is like a ministerial envoy, through which feelings of joy appear. The spleen is like a granary, responsible for transforming and transporting the Five Flavors in food and drink. The large intestine transports and excretes, expressing the body’s changes; the small intestine receives and holds food, where its digestion and transformation take place. The kidneys govern the body’s strength and capacity for movement, and skill also arises from them.

The brain is where marrow gathers; marrow from every part of the body belongs to the brain. Thus, from the Muddy Pellet at the crown of the head—the upper Dantian in Daoist Neidan—to the coccyx below, all are governed by the kidneys. The chest center lies between the breasts. It is where Qi gathers and can harmonize and distribute Yin-Yang; it is the source of generation and transformation, and is therefore called the “sea membrane.” Beneath the lungs, it surrounds the abdomen like a curtain, shielding the upper burner—the region above the chest—from being fumigated by turbid Qi. The pylorus lies between the small and large intestines. Fluids seep into the bladder, while waste and impurities flow into the large intestine and are transformed there.

The top level of the “Universal Illumination Diagram” refers to the aperture of the source of the heart and the sea of nature; the middle level refers to the aperture at the central position of the Yellow Center; and the bottom level refers to the aperture of the Qi Sea at Guanyuan. These three places are called the “Three Front Gates.”

The bottom level of the “Inward Reflection Diagram” points to the aperture of the Great Mystery at the coccyx; the middle level points to the paired gates at the spine; and the top level points to the aperture of the Heavenly Valley, the Muddy Pellet. These three places are called the “Three Rear Gates.” Danyang says, “Three by three in front, three by three behind; gather them up, load after load.” This means gathering in and comprehending as a whole the essential places indicated by the Three Front Gates and the Three Rear Gates.

The “Timely Illumination Diagram” explains the mechanism by which Yang Qi rises and descends, and the subtle principle by which the Four Images—the four states expressed through Yin-Yang change—encircle the center.

The “Inner Illumination Diagram” indicates the aperture of the Five Grains Muddy Pellet. The text also classifies this place among the “Three Rear Gates,” and quotes Danyang to explain that one should gather in the essential places indicated by the Three Front Gates and the Three Rear Gates.

The “Timely Illumination Diagram” reveals the patterns by which Yang Qi rises and falls, as well as the mystery of the “Four Images revolving around the center.” The “Inner Illumination Diagram” identifies the five viscera and six bowels, the twenty-four vertebrae, and the Conception and Governing Vessels, showing those who practice inward contemplation where to begin. To start cultivating without understanding these essentials is like trying to walk before learning to stand. Since ancient times, immortals have relied on oral transmission and direct instruction, never daring to point out these essentials openly, for fear of revealing Heaven’s secrets. My teacher, Master Yin, possessed the right understanding and insight spoken of in Buddhism. He regarded all living beings as his own children, and so drew these four diagrams to guide people of later generations who had lost their way, hoping to save all those with a destined connection and help them cross together beyond the sea of suffering in birth and death.

The Taiji Diagram

Buddhists call this circle “Perfect Enlightenment,” Daoists call it the “Golden Elixir,” and Confucians call it “Taiji.” The saying “From Wuji comes Taiji” means that the source of all things emerges from a state that cannot be defined, without form or image. In each person, the numinous awareness that governs body and mind at the moment of birth is Taiji. Before one’s parents have given birth to this body, the empty state that does not depend on physical form is Wuji. The revered master said, “If you wish to know your original true face, return to the state before birth; there, it is like a full moon.”

Master Yin said that Taiji has two meanings. In terms of movement and change, it is called the “timing.” All changes in Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things are inseparable from one inhalation and one exhalation. In terms of gathering into form, it is called the “true seed.” Even if it is no larger than a grain of rice, it can contain the principles of Heaven and Earth.

Hibernating, returning to the root, resting in stillness, and entering a state of deep quiet belong to “timing Taiji.” Gestation, bearing fruit, union, and conception belong to “true seed Taiji.” If practitioners can preserve these two forms of Taiji without letting them be depleted, they can attain lasting life and imperishable being. This means more than merely living out their allotted years and dying peacefully in old age.

Explication of Taiji

The human body contains the great Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), the root of generation and transformation. The body grows and changes continuously, and life endures alongside the workings of Heaven and Earth. If one could live forever without changing, one could transcend Heaven and Earth. Carefully avoid harming life and abstain from harmful transformations, and one can enjoy the full span of one’s allotted years and come to a peaceful end. But if one cuts off life and stops transformation, can one thereby live forever without dying or changing?

The human body contains the Taiji. The body grows and changes continuously, and life endures alongside the workings of Heaven and Earth. If one could live forever without changing, one could transcend Heaven and Earth. Carefully avoid harming life and abstain from harmful transformations, and one can enjoy the full span of one’s allotted years and come to a peaceful end. Can cutting off life and stopping transformation make one live forever without dying or changing? Enjoying the full span of one’s allotted years and coming to a peaceful end is no different from the fate of ordinary people; living forever, free of transformation and beyond the world, is like the state of immortals and Buddhas. Both states arise from the Taiji; they differ only in how it functions.

Everyone knows that the Taiji existed before Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things, but few know that once Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things have come into being, each of them also possesses the Taiji. The Taiji has its time of appearance and its true seed—the root from which it arises and operates.

Before Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things appeared, the Taiji was present in the Xu and Hai hui, two great periods marked by the earthly branches. Because the Taiji is present in these two periods, the transformations that generate a great cosmic cycle can take place. Each year, the Taiji appears in the ninth and tenth months; because it is present in these two months, the transformations that generate a year can take place. Each month, the Taiji appears from the twenty-sixth through the thirtieth day; because it is present on these five days, the transformations that generate a month can take place. Each day, the Taiji appears during the Xu and Hai double-hours; because it is present in these two periods, the transformations that generate a day can take place. Within each double-hour, the Taiji appears in two phases of deep obscurity, states in which nothing has yet become manifest; because it is present in these two phases, the transformations that generate a double-hour can take place.

The Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) in animals is expressed in hibernation, gestation, and birth; in plants, it is expressed in returning to the roots and bearing fruit. In humans, it is expressed in quiet rest, entering a deep and hazy state, and in the union of Yin and Yang, forming fetal breathing. The union of Yin and Yang has its proper timing, and cultivation and nourishment have their proper methods. If the Qi of the Taiji is not damaged, one can enjoy the full span of one’s natural life.

Completely put aside sexual desire, enter the state of profound stillness and clarity at all times, and preserve the Taiji’s Qi intact: this is the way to long life without decay. The way of following nature and living out one’s allotted years will still one day come to an end. The way of long life without decay, however, can lead to becoming an immortal or a Buddha, and ultimately to never perishing. Is this not precisely what sets human beings apart from ordinary people, plants, and animals?

Central Diagram

This diagram explains the aperture within the human heart that is empty, numinous, and brightly aware, never falling into dullness. This aperture is inherently vast and boundless, wondrous and unfathomable. It is inherently whole, centered, and upright, leaning neither to one side nor the other. It is inherently pure and supremely good, single-minded and unmixed. It is bright and clear, perfectly integrated and transparent, with no obstruction.

If it is said to be invisible and inaudible, where is it? If it is said not to exist, it is nevertheless supremely numinous and spiritual, and has never truly been absent. It has no fixed location and no beginning or end.

It was thus before Heaven and Earth and all things took shape, and it remains thus after they have taken shape. It is utterly empty and formless, impossible to see or hear and difficult to identify as any concrete existence. Yet if it is said not to exist, it is supremely numinous and spiritual, never cut off. It has no fixed location and no beginning or end.

Before heaven and earth and all things came into being, this fundamental reality was already so; after they came into being, it remains so. It is at once utterly empty and utterly real: it contains what is real, yet can return to emptiness. It is the numinous and subtle source of Heaven and Earth, the wondrous pivot of creation’s workings, the root of everyone’s nature and life, and the foundation of all things and affairs under Heaven. The Supreme Ultimate, the Four Images, and the Eight Trigrams spoken of in the Great Beginning—the original state before change had differentiated—arise from it. The Great Shun called it “the Center”; Confucius called it “the One.” Emperors of successive dynasties passed down the mandate of governance through it, and sages and worthies carried it on from one generation to the next. To understand this foundation is to make lofty virtue manifest; to know it is to understand the principles of the Book of Changes; to see it is to see the Dao; to take it as one’s foundation is to establish the basis of all under Heaven. When one reaches through to this, one’s nature can be fully realized through oneself, one’s life can be established through oneself, and the pivot of creation’s workings lies entirely within.

On the Fire Dragon and Water Tiger

Black lead and the Water Tiger are the source from which Heaven and Earth generate and transform things. They belong to the realm that has both material form and Qi (vital energy). Red lead and the Fire Dragon are the foundation of generation and transformation in Heaven and Earth. They belong to the realm that has Qi but no material form. What has material form is true lead, the essence of Great Yin (the moon), like a mother who nurtures the forms of all things. What has no material form is true mercury, the Qi of the sun’s light, like a father who brings all things into being. Lead and mercury give rise to one another and transform into one another in an unceasing cycle; hence they may be called the source from which all things in Heaven and Earth are generated.

The ancients who attained the Dao knew that wondrous things were concealed within these symbols. They therefore used symbolic correspondences to gather the essence of Great Yin, and set up a cauldron—the vessel that, in alchemical practice, symbolizes or holds the ingredients—to guide the Qi of the sun into the spirit chamber, the place that symbolizes the inner union in cultivation. There they brought the Qi of Yin and Yang together. Their unceasing union produced limitless transformations: a soul emerged from water, a spirit from metal; soul and spirit gathered and took form, then transformed into yin’e, an alchemical term for an initial form or boundary. As various treasures joined together, this was called the “Returning Elixir of Golden Liquid,” a term in Neidan (internal alchemy) symbolizing the result of Yin and Yang essences and Qi congealing and returning to their original source.

On the Sun Crow and Moon Rabbit

The sun is Yang, yet Yin is also contained within Yang, just as cinnabar contains mercury. Without Yin, Yang cannot manifest its numinous power on its own, and so it is called “female fire.” This is Yin within Yang, also known as “returning the elixir through the Golden Liquid.”

The Crow of the Sun and the Rabbit of the Moon

The sun is Yang, yet Yin is contained within Yang, just as cinnabar contains mercury. Without Yin, Yang cannot manifest its numinous power on its own, and so it is called “female fire”—that is, Yin within Yang. There is a crow in the sun. In the trigrams, it belongs to the south and corresponds to the Li trigram (which symbolizes fire and is a Yin trigram), so it is called the “Li woman.” Thus it is said that the sun, though occupying a high position, is assigned to the feminine.

The moon is Yin, yet Yang is also contained within Yin, just as lead contains silver. Without Yang, Yin cannot manifest its radiance on its own, and so it is called “male metal”—that is, Yang within Yin. There is a jade rabbit in the moon. In the trigrams, it corresponds to the Kan trigram (which symbolizes water and is a Yang trigram), so it is called the “Kan man.” Thus the Kan trigram is paired with the lunar palace: the moon appears Yin, yet in truth is assigned to the masculine.

The Wulou says: “Seek the essence of lead in the jade rabbit’s brain, and obtain the blood of mercury from the golden crow’s heart. Use these two substances to congeal an elixir, and the highest Dao is neither complicated nor something that must be forced.”

The Wuzhen Pian says: “First take Qian and Kun (Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang) as the vessel and cauldron; then gather the medicines of the crow and rabbit and refine them. Once these two medicines are made to enter the Yellow Path, how could the Golden Elixir fail to form?”

The two substances spoken of here are, in fact, one and the same.

The Large and Small Cauldron and Furnace

To cultivate the Golden Liquid Great Elixir—a Neidan term for an elixir formed by taking the human body as the cauldron and furnace and refining and nourishing Jing, Qi, and Shen—one must first position the furnace and establish the cauldron. The cauldron is not a metal vessel, nor is the furnace an implement made of jade: the body’s “Yellow Court” (the central region of the body in Daoist Neidan practice) serves as the cauldron, and the “Qi Cavity” (the place within the body where Qi gathers) serves as the furnace. The Yellow Court lies just above the Qi Cavity, and the channels of the two are connected; they are where the body’s meridians converge.

The Ding hexagram’s phrase “set the position aright and gather life” refers to stabilizing the position and gathering the Qi of life. This arrangement is called the “small cauldron and furnace.”

The Qian position, represented by the Qian trigram of the Eight Trigrams (Bagua), symbolizes the cauldron; the Kun position, represented by the Kun trigram, symbolizes the furnace. The cauldron contains mercury, which belongs to Yin and represents the root of nature associated with the fire dragon. The furnace contains jade pistils, which belong to Yang and represent the root of life formed through the condensation of water. The tiger below symbolizes the key to setting the firing process in motion; the dragon above symbolizes the rising of the flow of Qi, like surging clouds.

When Yang Qi rises from the furnace and Yin Qi descends in just the right measure, the heavenly soul and earthly spirit in the cauldron become mutually attached. The Azure Dragon and White Tiger draw each other in, while the Jade Rabbit and Golden Crow embrace one another. Once the firing process is balanced, a precious treasure can be refined. The cauldron, furnace, dragon, tiger, Jade Rabbit, and Golden Crow are all symbols in Neidan cultivation, referring to Yin-Yang, body and mind, and the flow of Qi; they are not actual objects or animals.

Thus Qingxiazi says: “Though it is called a cauldron, it is not a cauldron cast from metal; though it is called a furnace, it is not a furnace made of jade. Fire stirs below the navel, while water moves within the crown of the head. Once the three surnames come together, the two forces of Yin and Yang naturally draw toward each other. Seal and secure the embryonic breath so that it does not leak out, and transformation can occur in an instant. This is what is called the great cauldron and furnace.”

“On the Inner and Outer Medicines.”

Practitioners usually cultivate the external medicine first, working from the body and its visible functions, and then cultivate the internal medicine, focusing on the inner Jing, Qi, and Shen. Those of exceptional ability, with deep foundations and a long-standing affinity for the Dao, may skip the external medicine and cultivate the internal medicine directly. The internal medicine follows nature and does not cling to fixed methods; the external medicine, by contrast, involves deliberate action and cultivation according to specific methods. The internal medicine has no form or substance, while the external medicine has a definite body and function. According to the scripture, cultivating the external medicine can cure illness and prolong life. Cultivating the internal medicine over a long period can take one beyond the world of forms, reaching a state of emerging from being and entering nonbeing.

The external medicine is cultivated through the interaction and movement of Yin-Yang outside the body, while the internal medicine brings Kan and Li together within the body. Kan and Li symbolize water and fire, respectively, and are also associated with functions of body and mind, such as the kidneys and heart. In cultivating the external medicine, one first ensures that the essence stirred by sexual arousal does not leak away, that the breath is fine and calm, and that the mind is settled and clear. Cultivating the internal medicine means refining Jing, refining Qi, and refining Shen. Refining Jing means refining primordial Jing, the fundamental essence, and drawing out the primordial Yang within Kan. When primordial Jing is stable, the essence stirred by sexual arousal naturally becomes less likely to leak away. Refining Qi means refining primordial Qi to replenish the primordial Yin within Li. When primordial Qi is settled, the breath naturally ceases to move in and out. Refining Shen means refining primordial Shen so that Kan and Li unite as one, restoring the primordial state of Qian, which is pure Yang and the fundamental original state. When primordial Shen is concentrated and settled, the thinking mind naturally becomes tranquil.

By cultivating both the inner and outer medicines, one can become an immortal.

On the Three Passages of Reversal and Return

The Dao gives rise to One; One gives rise to Two; Two gives rise to Three; and Three gives rise to the myriad things. This describes the natural progression of generation and transformation by which humans and all things come into being. Now, however, one must cultivate in reverse: form transforms into Jing, Jing into Qi, Qi into Shen, and Shen into emptiness. This is the path of reversing transformation and cultivating toward becoming an immortal or a Buddha.

The Dao gives rise to One; One gives rise to Two; Two gives rise to Three; and Three then gives rise to the myriad things. This describes the natural process by which human beings and all things come into being. Cultivation proceeds in reverse: refine the body into Jing (essence), refine Jing into Qi (vital energy, as Daoism understands it), refine Qi into Shen (spirit), and then return Shen to emptiness. This is what is called reverse cultivation, undertaken in the hope of becoming an immortal or a Buddha.

At the first pass, “refining Jing into Qi,” one must recognize when the Tiangui (the essence and Qi associated with the body’s reproductive functions) begins to stir, and gather and refine it in time. During this process, guide the firing times with a calm and unhurried mind to set the movement of Metal Qi in motion. Turn the movement of Yin-Yang upside down and bring it back to its natural course, until the great elixir finally congeals within the cauldron. Here, “cauldron” is a metaphor in Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation for the place within the body where essence and Qi are refined.

At the middle pass, “refining Qi into Shen,” take advantage of the fire at its height to set the River Cart (a cultivation method for circulating essence and Qi within the body) in motion. Make essence and Qi rise in reverse from the Great Mystery Pass to the Tiangu Acupoint, a point on the head, so that Qi and Shen unite, then descend into the Yellow Chamber, a Neidan term for a place within the body where cultivation takes place. This is what is meant by the union of Yin and Yang in Qian and Kun, after which a drop of elixir Qi falls into the Yellow Court, the place within the body where Shen is nurtured and Qi refined.

At the upper pass, “refining Shen and returning to emptiness,” hold fast to the Original Shen and embrace the source, allowing Shen to return to the Vairochana Sea of Nature, a vast and profound realm of innate nature.

The three passes proceed in sequence from cultivation through deliberate effort into the realm of Wuwei (non-action); this is the gradual method. Cultivating the upper pass while also cultivating the two lower passes is the sudden method. If one directly cultivates the return of Shen to emptiness and reaches the utmost state of emptiness and stillness, Jing naturally transforms into Qi, and Qi naturally transforms into Shen. This is the essential teaching attributed to Guan Yin Zi: to forget spirit and body, and transcend life and death.

On Fulfilling Nature and Realizing Life

The Dantian (energy center) is like the sun, while the Original Nature in the heart is like the moon. When the sun’s light shines back upon the moon, Yin and Yang meet, and the substance congeals like gold. The moon receives the sun’s Qi, and so a single Yang begins to emerge on the third day of the lunar month.

The Dantian (the lower abdomen, called the “furnace and cauldron” in Neidan practice) is compared to the sun, and the original nature within the heart (one’s inborn nature) to the moon. Sunlight shines back upon the moon; when they meet, an inner substance arises like the Golden Elixir. The moon receives the sun’s Qi, so on the third day of the lunar month, one Yang appears. This symbolizes the Elixir being set in the cauldron: the practitioner senses a point of spiritual light emerging from the heart, shining continually day and night.

By the eighth day, one Yang has grown into two Yangs. The two Yangs mean that the Elixir’s Metal Qi has grown somewhat stronger and the original nature has begun to appear. On the full moon, the fifteenth day, two Yangs grow into three Yangs. When the three Yangs are complete, the original nature has fully appeared, like the full moon.

On the sixteenth day, one Yin begins to arise, symbolizing the start of the process by which nature returns to life. By the twenty-third day, two Yin have arisen, indicating that this return of nature to life is two-thirds complete. At the end of the month, all three Yin are complete, meaning that nature has fully returned to life. At first, cultivation uses life to gather in nature. Once nature has been fully cultivated, nature is used to settle life. This is the key to dual cultivation of nature and life (cultivating one’s inherent nature and the foundation of life together).

On the True Earth as the Root of the Heart

The Qi of Heaven and Earth can arise because it is stored within the earth of Heaven and Earth, where it is inexhaustible. The Qi of the human body can arise for the same reason: it is stored within the earth of the body, where it is inexhaustible. Thus the roots of such virtues as benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom are planted in the heart, just as the roots of plants and trees…

Where does the Qi of Heaven and Earth come from? It is stored within the Earth, inexhaustible. Where does human Qi come from? It is stored within the human body, as deep and abundant as the Earth itself. The roots of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom lie in the heart, just as the roots of plants take hold in the soil. When plants are rooted in the soil, their branches and leaves naturally flourish. When benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom take root in the heart, they too naturally show themselves in a person’s spirit and expression.

Mencius said, “One’s surroundings can change one’s temperament, and the way one is nourished can change one’s bearing.” The Great Learning says, “When the heart is broad, the body is at ease.” Yet even when the heart has become broad and the body is at ease, it is mistaken to think illness will leave the body.

What should be done when branches and leaves grow wan and withered? Return to the roots: mound up the soil and water them. With care and nourishment, will the plants’ vitality not return? When a plant’s roots are diseased, its branches and leaves fall ill as well. The human heart is like the roots of a plant: when the heart is ill, the body too becomes ill; when the heart is calm and healthy, the body too is calm and healthy. Thus, illnesses of the body arise from illnesses of the heart. The words “when the heart is broad, the body is at ease” are a fine remedy for illness.

On the Hun and Po.

In the character “ghost,” the “cloud” component represents the Hun (ethereal soul), while the “white” component represents the Po (corporeal soul). Clouds belong to wind, and wind belongs to Wood; white represents Qi (vital energy), and Qi belongs to Metal. Wind tends to disperse, and is therefore light and clear. This light, clear energy allows the Po to rise along with the Hun. Metal is like wind, but tends toward heaviness and turbidity, so the Hun descends along with the Po. Thus, sages can guide the Po with the Hun, while ordinary people are often constrained by the Po, which holds the Hun in check.

By day, the Hun resides in the eyes, enabling people to see. At night, the Po dwells in the liver, and people dream. Frequent dreams indicate that the Po is suppressing the Hun; spending more time awake indicates that the Hun is prevailing over the Po.

Broadly speaking, the Hun arises from Jing (essence), Shen (spirit) arises from the Hun, intention arises from Shen, and the Po arises from intention. These five revolve in a cycle without stopping. Accordingly, deluded thoughts in the human heart flow and change without end. This is like fruit pits sprouting and seeds multiplying in numbers beyond count. Yet no matter how vast heaven and earth may be, an empty place without seeds cannot produce a fruit sprout. It is also like birds multiplying through the union of female and male: however subtle the transformations of Yin-Yang may be, a female bird cannot lay eggs without a male.

Therefore, when sages encounter the comings and goings of all things, they respond from their original nature and do not let private desires and deluded thoughts take effect. “Nature” means the state before thoughts have arisen. Without private desires, there are no thoughts; without thoughts, the Po has nothing to pull on; without the Po’s pull, one is not born again, and the cycle of rebirth comes to an end.

On the Moonlight of the Toad

The Great Void, vast and boundless, is still and empty; the bright moon shines clear, and snow-white waves surge within the mind. When there are no thoughts, the Po has nothing to pull on; without the Po’s pull, one is not born again, and the cycle of rebirth comes to an end.

On the Moonlight of the Toad

The boundless sky stretches into the distance, and the bright moon shines pure and white. Snow-white waves churn across the water as the Golden Toad, an image in Daoist Neidan that symbolizes the true Yang Qi, gives off its radiance. Seeing the moon’s brightness, people say that it shines because Golden Essence is flourishing. They do not know that the source from which Golden Essence is generated lies in the moon. Seeing Golden Essence arise from the moon, they still do not know that the moon’s light originally comes from the sun.

Here, “moon” is a metaphor for original nature, the mind-nature at the source; “water” is a metaphor for the Kan Palace, the place in Neidan associated with water, the kidneys, and related things; and “Golden Toad” is a metaphor for the pivotal opening where a trace of true Yang Qi appears. Original nature is the activity of the moon-nature. When original nature first appears, it is perfectly round and bright, radiant and brilliant, like a shooting star. As the conditioned nature, shaped by one’s endowment and habits, grows a little calmer, the true nature of original Shen emerges, like the bright moon appearing after clouds disperse or the sun coming into view as mist clears.

The moment this scene appears, it signals that original Qi has arisen, and it should be gathered at once and held fast. It is like spotting a thief and seizing him immediately, before he can escape again. Gather it into the cauldron, the symbolic vessel used in Neidan practice to refine Jing, Qi, and Shen, and the toad’s radiance—this trace of original Qi—can be preserved and kept from dissipating.

On Subduing the Dragon

The Li Sun, an image in Neidan that symbolizes the heart and fire, is called Mercury. It contains Ji Earth, a symbol associated with the earth of the spleen, and is provisionally called the “dragon.” Fierce in appearance, it governs the powers of giving life and taking it away, and is bound up with whether one can become a Buddha or an immortal. Its might is vast, and it can transform; its influence reaches wherever there is a response, like clouds moving and rain falling to bring life and movement to all things. The ninth line of the second hexagram in the Classic of Changes says, “The dragon appears in the field; it is beneficial to meet the great person.” Confucius explained: “The dragon’s virtue is strong and robust, and it occupies the centered and correct position.”

People in the world do not understand how this “dragon” drives the ceaseless process of life, and often end up harmed by it. If one can recognize it, hold it in awe, and regulate and govern it, one can subdue this fierce dragon and accumulate the most refined Mercury. To subdue the dragon means to restrain the true fire within the heart. When the nature of fire is kept from scattering outward, the dragon can be controlled, creating an opportunity to obtain Lead, a Neidan term for another essential kind of refined energy.

Therefore, one must hold this dragon in awe and regulate and govern it in order to subdue it and accumulate the most refined Mercury. Restrain the true fire in the heart so that it does not scatter, and the dragon can be brought under control; only then does the opportunity arise to obtain Lead.

So it is said: If you do not accumulate mercury, how can you obtain lead? If you do not subdue the Dragon, you cannot master the Tiger. True lead and true mercury do not readily unite, and the true Tiger and true Dragon are difficult to subdue. If those who study the Dao can grasp the essential point, they may set all other matters aside for the time being.

On Subduing the Tiger

The Kan Moon, which symbolizes the Kan trigram and true Water, is lead. Because lead contains Wu Earth, it is figuratively called the Tiger. Its nature is fierce and unruly. Though it may wound and harm people, it also holds immense vitality: when it moves, its power is unmistakable and its response swift, enabling it to bring forth a vast, luminous force that nourishes all things.

Wang Chongyang said, “Treading on the tiger’s tail, the tiger does not bite.”

The Book of Changes says, “Walking on a level path, the recluse who keeps to what is right will meet with good fortune.”

Confucius said, “To walk on a level path is to put one’s inward aspiration into practice alone.”

If a practitioner can understand this force, hold it in reverence, and gradually bring it under control, they can subdue the unruly Tiger and bring forth prenatal lead—the innate vital essence spoken of in Neidan practice. “Subduing the Tiger” means restraining the true Water within the body. When its source is perfectly clear, the Tiger can be subdued and will no longer cause harm.

For this reason, masters who attained the Dao in successive generations explained “subduing the Dragon” as refining oneself, and “subduing the Tiger” as holding fast to and cultivating the mind. Master Chunyang (Lü Dongbin) said, “The seven returns and the restoration of the Elixir take place within oneself; first one must refine oneself, then await the proper moment.”

Master Ziyang (Zhang Boduan) said, “If you wish to cultivate the nine-turn Elixir, first you must refine yourself and hold fast to the mind.” Both statements express this principle.

On the Meeting of the Three Families

Body, mind, and intention are called the “Three Families.” Their meeting symbolizes the completion of the embryo in Neidan practice. Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) are called the “Three Originals”; when they unite as one, the Elixir is formed. The key to bringing the three together is emptiness and stillness.

When the mind is empty and still, Shen joins with one’s nature. When the body is quiet, Jing becomes still along with the emotions. When intention is completely settled, Jing, Qi, and Shen merge as one.

When emotion and nature unite, this is called “Metal and Wood joining.” When Jing and Shen unite, this is called “Water and Fire interacting.” When intention is completely settled, this is called “the Five Phases being complete.”

Jing (essence) transforms into Qi (vital energy) because the body is still; Qi transforms into Shen (spirit) because the heart-mind is still; Shen transforms into emptiness because thought is still. When the heart-mind is still, the number three of the East, associated with Wood, and the number two of the South, associated with Fire, combine to make five. When the body is still, the number one of the North, associated with Water, and the number four of the West, associated with Metal, join together. When thought is still, the Earth of the central Wu and Ji returns to the generative number five.

When the body, heart-mind, and thought unite, the three are like three households meeting, forming the “infant”—a symbol in Neidan cultivation for the pure, undivided Qi that has been refined.

On the Harmonizing of the Four Images

The Four Images are the Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise; the Five Phases are Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth. The Azure Dragon belongs to Wood, and Wood generates Fire; both are associated with the heart-mind. The heart-mind is the wondrous source from which all things appear, the true “nonbeing” concealed within “being.” When the heart-mind is still, it is like a dragon’s roar summoning clouds; the Vermilion Bird folds in its wings, and primordial Qi gathers.

The White Tiger belongs to Metal, and Metal generates Water; both are associated with the body. Since time immemorial, the body has inherently been pure and still: it is the wondrous “being” that arises from “nonbeing.” When the body is still, it is like a tiger’s roar stirring the wind; the Black Tortoise lies hidden, and primordial Jing gathers.

Once primordial Jing has congealed and primordial Qi has gathered, Metal, Wood, Water, and Fire merge into one within true Earth. Spirit, ethereal soul, and corporeal soul also gather within true intention. True intention is the origin of Qian: the mother of Heaven and Earth, the root of Yin-Yang, the foundation of Water and Fire, the source of sun and moon, the origin of the Three Powers, and the ancestor of the Five Phases. All things are born through it, and all spirits receive from it the vitality that gives rise to growth and decline.

When thought is still, the two Qi of Yin and Yang intermingle, the Three Treasures of Jing, Qi, and Shen congeal, the Four Images harmonize, and the Five Phases gather. In the end, all return to the central palace, where the Great Elixir is refined. Thus the Perfected Person Ziyang said, “The Five Phases are complete when the eight gather at the center.” This is what he meant.

“Lead” and “Mercury” refer to the primordial Qi present when Taiji first divided: the Qi separately endowed to the Dragon and Tiger at their birth. Here, “Dragon and Tiger” are metaphors for the two forces of Yin and Yang in Neidan practice.

The Tiger dwells in the northern Kan trigram, which symbolizes water. The yang line in the middle of Kan originally belonged to the Qian trigram, which symbolizes heaven and yang. Before the cycle of cosmic calamity shifted, Qian fell into Kun, which symbolizes earth and yin, through inversion and disorder. Its central yang line was damaged, transforming it into the Li trigram, which symbolizes fire. Li is where “Mercury” resides, hence the saying: “The Yellow Lad in Kan is named the Ancestor of Mercury.”

The Dragon dwells in the southern Li trigram, whose central yin line originally belonged to Kun. After the primordial chaos overturned their positions, Kun held and nurtured its contents, pairing with Qian. Kun’s central yin line became full and transformed into Kan. Kan is where “Lead” gathers, hence the saying: “The Dark Maiden in Li belongs to the house of Lead.”

If man and woman each remain in a separate room, and Lead and Mercury each stay in their own furnace, Yin and Yang will not meet, and Heaven and Earth will become sealed off from one another. The sages use the mind as the “Yellow Matchmaker”—the medium that brings Yin and Yang together—to guide the Yellow Lad in Kan and the Dark Maiden in Li into union. When the two join, they transform into pure Qian. This is called “taking Kan to fill Li,” restoring their original, primordial form. The Wuzhen pian says, “Take the full yang line from the middle of Kan to transform the yin line in the belly of the Li Palace.” This is precisely what it means.

Recite the Guanyin mantra.

This mantra is Guanyin Bodhisattva’s subtle seal of the heart (an inner method of practice). Writing the Six-Syllable Great Bright Mantra brings merit equal to writing the Buddhist Tripiṭaka; reciting it brings merit equal to reading the seven scrolls of sacred texts. It can also awaken wisdom and free people from all kinds of suffering. Karmic ties and knots of resentment accumulated across the past, present, and future lives can all be purified, and every kind of karmic hindrance can be removed. In this way, one is liberated from birth and death and rests in the blissful Dharma Body (the pure body of a Buddha).

There are also secrets to reciting the mantra. The first sound, “Om,” calls upon the Vairocana Buddha within oneself; the second, “Ma,” calls upon the Immovable Buddha within oneself; the third, “Ni,” calls upon the Jewel-Born Buddha within oneself; the fourth, “Pad,” calls upon the Immeasurable Life Buddha within oneself; the fifth, “Me,” calls upon the Buddha of Unfailing Accomplishment within oneself; and the sixth, “Hum,” sends the sound rising back up from the throat and calls upon Vajra Mahāsthāmaprāpta within oneself. Pairing each mantra sound with a Buddha or Vajra indicates the inner visualization to be held during recitation. With long practice, the Five Qi (five kinds of inner primordial energy) return to their source, bringing inconceivable merit and attainment of perfect, unobstructed realization.

On the Nine Cauldrons and Refining the Heart

The sun is like a cinnabar elixir in the sky. When darkness covers it, it no longer shines. The heart is like an elixir within the human body. When external things obscure it, it too loses its original clarity. Thus, what is called refining the elixir means removing the dark impurities that cloud the heart and nature, so that the heart returns to its original state: the natural aspect of the nature bestowed by Heaven, the inborn nature Heaven gives to human beings.

The nature bestowed by Heaven is like pure gold, which everyone already possesses. Temperamental nature, shaped by innate endowment and acquired habits, is like impurities in the gold; even the wisest person is not free of them. By continually refining oneself amid the everyday affairs of human relationships, one can gradually remove these impurities from one’s temperament, and the nature bestowed by Heaven will naturally become manifest.

As rulers, the Five Emperors and the Three Kings refined their hearts day by day through the way of governing the state. As ministers, Yi Yin, Boyi, the Duke of Zhou, and the Duke of Shao refined their hearts through the way of assisting their rulers. As teachers, Confucius, Zengzi, Zisi, and Mencius refined their hearts through the way of education. They kept their hearts oriented toward the Dao at all times and continually cultivated them by following the Dao. This was a vital method of learning for the sages of antiquity, and a clear teaching on refining oneself in every circumstance, cultivating the heart, and refining one’s nature.

The Teaching on Returning the Eight Consciousnesses to the Origin

Buddhism holds that for a person to be conceived, three things must come together: the father’s vital essence, the mother’s blood, and the consciousness left over from a previous life—the mind that distinguishes, remembers, and perceives. The vital essence and blood come from the parents, but consciousness is not born from them. It has flowed on since beginningless time and is also called that which arises and ceases. Thus, what arises and ceases combines with what does not arise or cease to form the eight consciousnesses—the eight kinds of mind-consciousness described in Buddhism.

Within the transformations of Heaven and Earth, there is both a true sovereign that remains unchanged through the ages and a current of Qi that changes with time. When the true sovereign and this current combine, they are called the nature endowed by Heaven’s mandate. This nature is the Original Spirit—the true spiritual nature that does not change through arising and ceasing. The nature shaped by one’s temperament, by contrast, is the consciousness spirit. The Confucian idea of “transforming one’s temperament” and the Chan Buddhist teaching of “turning consciousness into wisdom” both speak of changing one’s temperament and transforming consciousness.

Some people today mistakenly think that the clear, lively presence in consciousness, seemingly at one with all things, is the Original Spirit. They do not realize that it is in fact the root that keeps people caught in the cycle of birth and death, not the Original Spirit that neither arises nor ceases. Alas, recognizing the consciousness spirit is not difficult; truly freeing oneself from it is. Unless one uses the Original Spirit endowed by Heaven’s mandate to overcome ignorance—the state of being deluded and unenlightened—and karmic consciousness, the mind drawn along by the force of karma, one will remain trapped in the cycle of arising and ceasing, with no hope of escape.

The Theory of the Five Qi Returning to the Origin.

When the primal Qi first divided, it formed the two modes of Heaven and Earth. Once these two modes were established, they further divided into the Five Phases. Each Phase occupied its own place and guarded one direction. The Qi of the five directions differed, with each governing its own quarter. The son of the Azure Emperor, ruler of the east, was named Longyan; he received the three Qi of the Wood De of Jia and Yi. The son of the Red Emperor, ruler of the south, was named Danyuan; he received the two Qi of the Fire De of Bing and Ding. The son of the White Emperor, ruler of the west, was named Haohua; he received the four Qi of the Metal De of Geng and Xin. The son of the Black Emperor, ruler of the north, was named Xuanming; he received the one Qi of the Water De of Ren and Gui. The son of the Yellow Emperor, ruler of the center, was named Changcun; he received the five Qi of the Earth De of Wu and Ji.

Thus, Metal grows when it receives Earth; Wood flourishes when it receives Earth; Water is restrained when it meets Earth; and Fire is extinguished when it meets Earth. Only sages understand how to restore the force of life and return to the source. They gather in the Qi of the Five Phases, bring together the Qi of the four directions, unite the three Qi, and ultimately return from two to one.

More specifically, when the body does not move recklessly, Jing can remain secure and the Water Qi returns to its source. When the mind does not stir recklessly, Qi can remain secure and the Fire Qi returns to its source. When one’s true nature is clear and still, the hun-soul can rest in its dwelling and the Wood Qi returns to its source. When deluded thoughts and desires are forgotten, the po-soul can lie dormant and the Metal Qi returns to its source. When every part of the body is settled and in harmony, the mind’s intent can become still and the Earth Qi returns to its source. This is called the “Five Qi Gathering at the Origin”: the Qi of the Five Phases converges at the crown of the head.

A Treatise on Awaiting the Imperially Summoned

After nine years of cultivation facing a wall, the Numinous Terrace (the mind-spirit) becomes clear and bright, the Sea of Awakening (the awakened mind) becomes full and lucid, nature and life merge into one, and both body and spirit attain a wondrous transformation. The cultivator’s De accords with Heaven and Earth, while body and mind connect with the Great Void. This shows that the Elixir Way has been perfected. Yet one must still accumulate merit and continue cultivating; these are indispensable. As for the Dao and its explanation…

After nine years of facing the wall in long-term meditation, the mind becomes clear and pure, and realization shines with the fullness and brightness of a vast ocean. Nature and life merge as one, bringing body and spirit alike to a wondrous state. In this way, the cultivator aligns with the virtue of Heaven and Earth and becomes one with the Great Void, the vast, formless ground of being. This marks the completion of Daoist alchemical cultivation, yet accumulating merit and cultivating virtue remain essential.

The relationship between the Dao and De is like the pairing of Yin and Yang; the relationship between conduct and merit is like the way feet and eyes complement one another. Master Zhongli said, “Merit without virtuous conduct is like having no feet; virtuous conduct without merit is like having incomplete eyes. When merit and conduct are both complete, feet and eyes are naturally whole. Who could say that such a person has no chance of becoming an immortal?” Thus, after refining the Golden Elixir and completing its nurturing, the ancient immortals and sages still acted freely among people. They kept their brilliance in check and blended into ordinary life, striving to accomplish good works and adapting their help to the circumstances at hand. They eased people’s troubles, supported those in danger, relieved disasters, averted calamities, set affairs in order, saved beings lost in delusion, and guided later practitioners. They earned merit in cultivating the Dao and showed virtue in the human world.

Once their merit and virtue were complete, they withdrew from the world and waited for the right moment. When the heavenly decree arrived and the Jade Maiden came to welcome them, they would ride mist and clouds straight into the sacred realm of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), the highest divine realm honored in Daoism. Master Zhang Ziyang says in the Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality): “When one’s virtuous conduct exceeds eight hundred and one’s hidden merit reaches three thousand, Heaven sends down a precious talisman and decree summoning one to the celestial court. One then departs in comfort, seated in a carriage of jade and a phoenix chariot.”

On Ascension

Immortals are divided into five ranks, and Buddhism into three vehicles. Since methods of cultivation and degrees of merit vary, the ways of transcending the ordinary world differ somewhat as well. Ascending swiftly into the heavens ranks highest; sitting in transformation and corpse liberation come next; rebirth and taking over another person’s body follow after them.

Those who ascended to heaven riding dragons include the Yellow Emperor, Mao Meng, Wang Xuanfu, and Wei Shanjun. Those who rode clouds include Yang Xi, Li Ji, Lan Caihe, and Sun Bu’er. Those who rode carp include Ziying and Qin Gao. Those who rode phoenixes include Zijin and Deng Yu. Those who rode cranes include Huan Wen and Qu Chujing. Those who rode the wind include Ge You and Lord Wuyi. Among those said to have ascended with their entire household and residence were He Hou, Yin Xi, the Prince of Huainan, and Xu Jingyang. Those said to have ascended in broad daylight include Cai Qiong, Feng Chang, Ma Chengzi, and Fuqiubo.

I once consulted biographies in the records of immortals and learned that, from antiquity to the present, more than a hundred thousand people had attained immortality, and that there were more than eight thousand places where entire households had ascended. Thus the Pure Yang Master, Lü Dongbin, once wrote on the wall of Jingfu Temple: “Do not say the Way of the immortals cannot be learned; how many people, from ancient times to the present, have ascended and become immortals?”

“Section Heng”

The first set of instructions in The Complete Guide to Dual Cultivation of Nature and Life and the Ten Thousand Spirits: “Nurture the source and safeguard the treasure of life.”

(Attached illustration: Nurturing the Source)

(The text includes two methods of cultivation: withdrawing into stillness and bathing, and refining the body with jade liquid. In Neidan cultivation, “bathing” means regulating and gently nourishing body and mind; “refining the body” means cultivating and tending the body.)

To cultivate for long life, one must understand the root of life; to seek deathlessness, one must recognize that which is deathless from the beginning. Hence the saying: “Only one who recognizes the deathless can truly be deathless.” Daoists call this deathless presence the “Iron Man,” while Buddhists call it the “Vajra.” Both names refer to the wondrously aware true mind that all people possess from the outset—the innate, clear and alert capacity for awareness.

This mind is clear and alert, never clouded, and constantly aware. Its essence is neither born nor destroyed; its manifestations neither come nor go. Looking back to before heaven and earth appeared, we cannot tell when it began. Looking forward to after heaven and earth have vanished, we cannot tell when it will end. It is so high that nothing is higher, so vast that it has no bounds; so deep that it has no bottom, so hidden that it cannot be measured. Heaven, earth, and all things rely on it for their covering and support; the sun and moon rely on it to shine; empty space relies on it to be expansive; and all living beings rely on it for their transformations and activity.

The sages of the three teachings—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—teach people to cultivate the Dao (the Way). What they cultivate is this; what enables them to become immortals or Buddhas is this as well. Even when born as horned, fur-covered animals, their original nature is still this.

The paths of sages and ordinary people diverge here. There is no other way to transcend birth and death, and only this teaching leads to nirvana, the state of freedom from the troubles of birth and death. Yet everything in the world is subject to impermanence and change. Only this essence is not bound by arising and passing away, and cannot be observed through form or color. It is upright and steady, clear and manifest; people simply have not realized what it is in its original state.

Why can people not realize it? Because of the deluded mind. What is the deluded mind? Since time without beginning, all beings have lost sight of their true mind without knowing it. Thus they continue to wander through birth and death, pointlessly entering one form of life after another. In truth, the true mind is never deluded: innate wisdom, the wisdom inherent in one’s nature, is originally bright, pure, and subtle. But when deluded thoughts suddenly arise, the true mind is quickly obscured, and the originally lucid and pure nature is blinded. Thus original wisdom turns into a consciousness of discrimination and attachment. This deluded mind within body and mind is called “consciousness.”

The mind originally has no discriminating awareness; discrimination arises because of “consciousness.” Original nature has no distinctions; distinctions appear because of “consciousness.” From this, the seeds of embodied life begin to sprout, bringing forth the flowers of outflows—the realm still governed by afflictions and birth and death—and bearing the fruit of the deluded mind. This is called “consciousness.”

The mind originally had no awareness or perception. Only later, with the arising of discriminating thoughts, did “knowing” come into being; originally it had no fixed nature or appearance, either, but these too emerged through discriminating thoughts. From this arose the human body and life, along with all manner of causes that bind one to conditioned existence and the karmic consequences of birth, death, and rebirth. People today mistakenly believe that within the mind there is something clear, keen, and aware, seemingly merged as one with all things, and conclude that this must be the original spirit (the human being’s primordial spirit). They do not realize that this is merely the cognitive spirit (consciousness governed by discriminating thoughts), which continually undergoes the changes of birth and death and is also the seed of rebirth through countless kalpas.

Thus Jingcen said, “Those who study the Dao fail to awaken to what is real because they have always mistaken their former cognitive spirit for the true mind. It is the root of birth, death, and rebirth since time without beginning, yet the deluded call it their original face.”

Alas, people take a servant for their master without knowing it, and mistake a thief for their son without noticing. That is why the World-Honored One (the Buddha) taught people first to sever the root of rebirth that has been present since time without beginning. This is what he meant. Once this root is severed, the various discriminating thoughts lose their support, and we recover our original, eternal, clear, and luminous essence.

But the Great Dao is vast and profound. Where should one begin? To straighten a robe, first lift its collar; to gather a fishing net, first grasp its main cord. Master Yin once pointed out a true path of cultivation, teaching people to work at the source. When the source is pure, the principles of Heaven are constantly revealed, and discriminating thoughts cannot defile it. It is like the sun hanging high in the sky: demons and specters have nowhere to hide. This method of beginning with the mind’s own nature is the unchanging principle followed by sages of every age.

Thus Laozi said that cultivating the Dao begins by examining one’s own mind. The key to observing the mind lies in the Numinous Pass, the One Aperture (the crucial point where the spirit resides and toward which inner observation is directed). When a person is first born and receives the Qi of Heaven and Earth, they receive a portion of Heaven and Earth’s original Yang Qi. This forms the aperture, in which the original spirit is housed. It is empty and still, yet supremely quiet, clear, and luminous; it governs the activities of human life. As the saying goes, with it there is life, and without it there is death. The rise and decline of life, and life and death themselves, all stem from it.

Confucians call it the “Numinous Terrace,” Daoists call it the “Numinous Pass,” and Buddhists call it the “Numinous Mountain.”

The cultivation methods taught by Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism ultimately all depend on this numinous, luminous aperture.

Buddhism says, “The Buddha is on Vulture Peak; there is no need to seek far away. Vulture Peak lies within your own mind. Everyone has a Vulture Peak pagoda in their heart, and should cultivate beneath that pagoda.” This describes the aperture by its location.

Daoism says, “Few people know the root of the Great Dao. Ordinary people use it in their daily lives, yet who truly understands it? Now I will point out the Immortals’ cave: it is shaped like a slender crescent eyebrow.” This describes the aperture by its shape.

This aperture is the seat where spirits dwell and the place of profound mystery. It is truly pure, luminous and wondrous, empty yet numinous, standing distinctly on its own. It is the source of all beings, and so is called the “ground of mind.” It is the state realized by all Buddhas, and so is called “Bodhi” (awakening). It connects and harmonizes everything without obstruction, and so is called the “Dharma Realm” (the unified whole in which all existence is interconnected). It is still and yet ever blissful, and so is called “Nirvana” (the state of liberation from birth and death). It is untouched by defilement and lacks nothing, and so is called “purity.” It is free of illusion and unchanging, and so is called “Suchness” (the true, unchanging nature). It transcends faults and errors, and so is called “Buddha-nature” (the capacity for Buddhahood). It upholds good conduct and restrains wrongdoing, and so is called “total retention” (gathering up and safeguarding the true Dharma). It is hidden and all-containing, embracing everything, and so is called the “Tathāgata Store” (the innate capacity for awakening possessed by all beings). It transcends the hidden and mysterious, and so is called the “Land of Esoteric Adornment.” It gathers and fully embodies many virtues, dispelling every kind of darkness with its own light, and so is called “Perfect Enlightenment” (complete awakening). In essence, all these names refer to the same aperture.

To turn away from it is to become an ordinary person; to follow it is to become a sage. Losing sight of it sets the cycle of birth and death in motion; awakening to it brings that cycle to an end.

If you wish to end the cycle of rebirth, it is best to realize the Supreme Dao; to realize the Supreme Dao, it is best to observe the original mind. Let the eyes be quiet, empty, and clear, and keep the mind as bright as the full moon. When entering stillness, use wisdom to observe. At all times, preserve the balanced and upright state before the Seven Emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, fear, love, aversion, and desire—arise; at all times, maintain the original nature of the Eight Consciousnesses, as understood in Buddhism, before it is stained. Outwardly, put an end to every entanglement; inwardly, cut off all delusive thoughts. Draw in the gaze and, in stillness, observe with wisdom; at all times, preserve the balanced and upright state before the Seven Emotions arise, and maintain the unstained original nature of the Eight Consciousnesses. Outwardly, put an end to every entanglement; inwardly, cut off all delusive thoughts.

Draw in the gaze, gather the spirit and listen quietly, regulate the breath through the nose, draw in the breath in the mouth, and keep the limbs still. In this way, the five consciousnesses of eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body each return to their source, and the five spiritual faculties—spirit, ethereal soul, corporeal soul, intention, and will—each settle in their proper place.

By day and by night, let the eyes continually look inward upon this aperture, the point of focus in inner cultivation; let the ears continually listen inward toward it, and let the tip of the tongue also face it. Whether thinking or acting, keep every thought from straying from this aperture; when walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, keep the mind there. Do not forget to observe it even for an instant, or carelessly turn away from it. If the spirit’s light, the inner awareness, spreads outward, draw it back at once. Do not let it depart, even in haste; keep it here at all times. This is precisely what Zisi meant by “not departing from it for even an instant.”

First use visualization to make the mind empty and still, then use forgetting thoughts to broaden the mind’s capacity. At any time and in any place, be free of obstruction and at ease. This accords exactly with what the Scripture of the Dragon and Tiger says: “The wondrous essential formula: first visualize, then forget thoughts.” This is the innermost of oral instructions.

However, to further eliminate the Six Consciousnesses—those of eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind—it is especially important to understand the proper sequence. Although the mind is the commander of the Six Consciousnesses, the eyes are the vanguard of the Five Thieves, the external things and sensory activity that disturb the spirit. Thus the ancient practitioners said: “The mind is the pivot; the eyes are thieves. If you wish to subdue the mind, first gather in the gaze.” A crossbow is released by its trigger; likewise, the mind is first drawn by external things through the eyes. When the trigger does not move, the crossbow does not fire; when the eyes do not move, the mind settles.

The Scripture of the Hidden Talisman says, “The pivot mechanism lies in the eyes.” The Dao De Jing says, “If you do not look upon things that stir desire, the mind will not be disordered.”

The Analects says, “Do not look at what is contrary to ritual propriety.”

Zhu Xi explained: “Restraining outward conduct serves to cultivate the inner mind.”

The Golden Casket Treasure Register says: The eyes are where the spirit’s awareness enters and leaves through the “Mysterious Female Gate,” the gateway connected to the source of life. Gather the gaze inward, so that the heart and spirit return within.

When the eyes keep watch over this aperture and do not wander outward, they are like the Tathagata’s “Eye of the True Dharma,” the wisdom that sees the true Dharma, and accord with the essence of the “Nirvana Mind,” the mind that transcends life and death and attains stillness. Thus the Shurangama Sutra says: “To contemplate in this way is called right contemplation; to contemplate in any other way is wrong contemplation.”

The “Contemplation of the Mind” chapter of the Contemplation Sutra says: “Within the Three Realms, the mind is sovereign. Those who can contemplate their own mind will ultimately attain liberation; those who cannot will eventually sink into ruin.”

The first chapter of the Dao De Jing says: “Ever possessing desire, one observes its boundaries.” This means using deliberate contemplation to observe this aperture. “Ever free of desire, one observes its subtle mystery” means observing the subtle wonders within this aperture.

The story of the Yellow Emperor quietly turning his gaze inward for three months in ancient times refers to this same contemplation.

The Taishang Yiyue Chapter also says: “Ever possessing desire, one observes its boundaries; ever free of desire, one observes its subtle mystery.” This means observing the aperture and the subtle wonders within it.

The Most High says: “Since immeasurable kalpas ago, I have continually contemplated my own mind. Through this I attained the Dao and ultimately reached emptiness.”

Contemplating one’s own mind is not easy; stilling scattered thoughts is especially difficult. The very place where thoughts arise is the root that binds people to life and death.

An ancient immortal said: “In cultivating the Great Dao, one must first teach people to still their thoughts. If the mind cannot settle, cultivation will be hard to bring to fruition.”

The Sutra of Perfect Enlightenment says: “At all times, do not give rise to deluded thoughts. When various deluded thoughts arise, do not deliberately suppress them or remain caught in the realm of delusion. Do not deliberately pursue awareness, cling to unawareness, or discriminate what is true.”

The Treatise on Awakening of Faith says: “When the mind races outward, gather it back and return it to right mindfulness. As soon as a thought appears, become aware of it; once it is recognized, it dissipates. The subtle method of practice lies here.”

Celestial Master Xujing, a revered Daoist figure, said: “Do not fear that thoughts arise; fear only recognizing them too late. A thought arising is the illness; preventing it from developing further is the medicine.”

Understand that deluded thoughts arise from consciousness, the senses, and other sources. When they encounter external objects, they take shape as delusions, but in truth they have no fixed, unchanging substance.

Celestial Master Xujing also said: “Do not fear that thoughts arise; fear only recognizing them too late. A thought arising is the illness; preventing it from developing further is the medicine.”

Know that deluded thoughts arise from the consciousness that perceives external objects. When it encounters them, it gives rise to fanciful imaginings; in truth, these have no fixed, enduring substance. When living beings are deluded, wisdom is weak and the discriminating mind is strong, so it is called “consciousness.” When one reaches the state of a Buddha, wisdom is strong and the discriminating mind is weak, so it is called “wisdom.” Only the name changes; the fundamental nature of mind remains the same.

At first, the source of mind is open, clear, and profoundly still. Later, when one clings to distinctions arising from one’s existing views and understanding, delusive dust follows, and deluded thoughts take shape. If one can “know and see without seeing”—that is, remain aware without clinging to what one sees or knows—the nature of wisdom will return to purity, restoring its clear and profound stillness. Perception will become penetrating and lucid, and deluded thoughts will disappear.

Once deluded thoughts vanish, the activities of consciousness, from the six consciousnesses—the six modes of knowing associated with eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind—onward will also dissolve. This is like what Manjushri said: “When one faculty returns to its source, all six faculties are liberated.” In other words, when one sense returns to its source, all six are liberated. When the six faculties disappear, the six objects—the things encountered by the six senses—also cease to exist. With no six objects, the six consciousnesses have nothing from which to arise; with no six consciousnesses, the seeds of samsara are cut off. At that point, a single true mind stands alone, without dependence: vast and unobstructed, clear and unstained. It endures through countless kalpas, never arising or ceasing.

This method points directly to the human mind. Once understood, it resolves many problems at once. It is exceptionally direct and simple. If you nurture the source and attend to the essential inner key, then, with time, your mind and spirit will naturally become renewed. Your Qi will flow freely and abundantly, your heart will be settled and unmoving, and in stillness, free of stray thoughts, you will suddenly understand emptiness and awaken to your nature. This is what is meant by “When the skin has been completely shed, the One True will soon appear”: as layer upon layer of outward clinging gradually falls away, the pure nature will emerge.

At this stage of cultivation, the spirit naturally becomes invigorated, wisdom gradually grows, and the mind and nature become clear and keen, allowing one to respond freely to changes between the hidden and the manifest. The body and mind seem to turn with a quality of stillness and opening and closing, while a lively, buoyant vitality also arises.

A little primordial Yang True Qi (the original Yang energy) naturally stirs within. It emerges from the center, descends to the Yellow Court (the abdominal region), enters the Earth Crucible (the place where Neidan is refined and nurtured), passes through the Tail Gate (the base of the spine), travels through the Spinal Gate (between the vertebrae of the back), surges upward to the Celestial Valley (the head), and descends to the Crooked River (the mouth and the area beneath the tongue). It circulates through the meridians of the whole body and nourishes the upper, middle, and lower Dantians (the three important sites within the body in Daoist inner cultivation). It can dispel Yin evils from the body’s orifices and cleanse the impurities of the five viscera and six bowels. It is like taking the wondrous medicine of King Sudarshana, which cures every illness; or like plucking a string made from a lion’s sinew, which instantly silences every other sound. Thus it is said: focus the mind single-mindedly, and you can treat every illness without relying on a multitude of prescriptions.

From this we can understand that all the sages cultivated by this convenient method of entering the Dao through the mind. They became patriarchs and Buddhas, guides to people in the world and the heavenly hosts. Ordinary people cannot awaken because they do not understand their own minds. As the saying goes: “The sea may dry up, and at last its depths will be seen; a person may die, yet still not know their own mind.” Beings in the six realms all emerge from this gate, yet pass through a thousand kalpas without turning back. This is truly sorrowful.

Therefore, to awaken those dwelling in the burning house (a metaphor for beings lost in affliction, birth, and death), the patriarch specially came east from the West. The thousand sages lament this because people have not understood the path to liberation through mind alone: they do not realize that the way to freedom must be recognized within their own minds.

The Treatise on the Treasure Storehouse says: “Within Heaven and Earth, amid the cosmos, there is a supreme treasure, secretly preserved in the Way that came from the West.” The thousand sages lament this because people have not understood the essential path of departure through mind alone.

As the Treatise on the Treasure Storehouse says, within Heaven and Earth and throughout the cosmos lies a treasure, dwelling in secret within the human body and mind. “Mountain of Form” refers to the human body. This treasure is aware of things and illuminates what is within and without, yet it is empty, still, and formless, difficult to see; hence it is called “the Mysterious within the Mysterious.”

Its subtlety appears beyond the celestial realm of Ziwei, while its activity unfolds amid the void. It is upright yet changes without limit; in itself, it is still and unmoving, singular and unique. It gives forth wondrous sounds and reveals brilliant colors, yet when one traces its form, nothing can be seen. One can only tentatively call it “emptiness within emptiness.” People can sense its sounds and workings, but cannot see its body or appearance. It shines even in the darkest places, allowing the principles of all things to flow freely and without obstruction.

It is like a precious seal that governs the myriad forms, the true foundation of all things. When it appears, it seems to have form; in stillness, it is profound and unfathomable. It is pure from the outset—not made bright by polishing, but naturally complete. Its radiance surpasses the sun and moon, and its De exceeds Great Clarity (the Daoist celestial realm of pure emptiness). All things arise from it without human contrivance; everything is brought to completion through it, yet it has no fixed name. It enables Heaven and Earth to move and transform freely, without obstruction. Its countless wondrous workings take shape within the undivided state before separation.

Who could hear of this treasure and not rejoice and marvel? How could something so priceless be hidden in the “pit of the shadowed person”? The “pit of the shadowed person” means a dark, concealed place; here, it suggests that although the treasure is within the human body, it is obscured and hard to perceive. How sorrowful, how sorrowful, that people should hold themselves in such low regard! How lamentable, how lamentable: if it is obscured, how can it be made manifest? This treasure shines brilliantly, illuminating the ten directions, and freely reveals its workings in stillness and emptiness. It responds to sounds and forms, and also to the changes of Yin-Yang. It is wondrous and rootless, yet its workings are ever present. One cannot see it in a blink, nor hear it by listening closely. Its essence is profound and unfathomable; when it transforms, its traces become visible. In its essence it may be called sacred; in its activity, it is wondrous and unimpeded.

This may be called the true Jing of the Great Dao: its essence is supremely subtle and wondrous, and it is the source from which all existence arises. It abides in stillness and permanence, equal to the Dao.

Nothing in the world is closer to us than our own mind. People use it every day without knowing what it is, like fish living in the sea without knowing the water. The Buddhist scriptures say that all living beings, since time immemorial, have lost sight of their original mind and cannot perceive or understand it. They mistake the body, formed from the four great elements of earth, water, fire, and wind, for themselves, and they mistake the mind’s activity of thinking and making distinctions in response to external conditions for the mind itself. It is like possessing countless oceans yet never recognizing them, and identifying only with a small bubble of water. Thus delusion compounds delusion, and one false thought gives rise to another. Carried along by external conditions, people form all kinds of feelings and attachments from whatever they happen to see, chasing the myriad things of the world without a moment’s rest. This gives rise to confusion and karmic causes, and beings cycle through the Six Realms of reincarnation—the heavens, the human realm, the asuras, hell, hungry ghosts, and animals—like captives trapped in an invisible net with no way out. At root, all these troubles arise from the original mistake of losing sight of the true mind and taking the false for the real.

As Lingrun said: “False thoughts and desires pull people along—when will they ever end? The small light within the numinous heart-mind has been neglected.” This “small light within the numinous heart-mind” is the spiritually aware mind of Suchness: the original, authentic mind endowed with awareness. It is supremely mysterious and subtle, able to reach the realm of sages and reveal spiritual clarity. It is highest and brightest, and boundless in breadth and greatness. It governs the myriad things and is the root of all living beings and things. Firm and penetrating, it pervades the Three Realms—the Desire Realm, the Form Realm, and the Formless Realm—and extends throughout the ten directions. It existed before Heaven and Earth were formed, and it will not disappear after they are destroyed. All realms are manifestations of the light of the true mind. When we recognize our own mind, we understand that nothing on Earth lies outside it. Hence the saying: “The Three Realms are mind alone.”

Those who have lost their way seek the Dao beyond their own minds. Those with genuine cultivation know that every state they perceive is inseparable from their own mind. The states are what the mind manifests, and the mind is also revealed within those states. When facing a state, they are not confused; when circumstances arise, they are not shaken. The one who perceives and what is perceived depend on each other and are originally one, without distinction. To understand this is to know that all states are mind alone. Awakening to one’s own mind brings the Great Dao to fruition. By becoming aware of delusion accumulated since beginningless time and cutting it off completely, one no longer lets deluded thoughts draw states along in their wake. Instead, one gathers all states back into one’s own mind, escapes bondage, and reveals the mind of suchness in its original purity, free from defilement. Suchness means the true nature that is not altered by deluded thoughts.

When facing a state, one is not confused; when circumstances arise, one is not shaken. The one who perceives and what is perceived depend on each other and are originally one. To understand this is to know that all states are mind alone; awakening to one’s own mind makes it possible to attain the Dao. With such complete awakening, the mind escapes bondage, becomes pure and undefiled, and abides forever in its original purity. It no longer gives rise to conditioned forms such as mountains, rivers, and the earth—phenomena produced by causes and conditions that arise, cease, and change. This is like gold refined from ore: it will not become coated in mineral dust again. Or like wood burned to ash: how could it grow branches and trunks again? Once realization is attained, it is attained forever. Until time without end, one remains free from bondage and dwells continually in the realm of the sages.

Yet this supreme Great Dao may allow those of keen capacity to enter the realm of the Tathagata all at once. What, then, should those of slower capacity do? They should begin with the foundations and gradually deepen their understanding, being led into the teaching one step at a time. Each step brings its own result; each level reached brings further progress. This is the principle that to travel far, one must start nearby, and to climb high, one must begin low.

If one does not know where to begin or how to undertake cultivation, how could one reach its highest state all at once? If one cannot yet fully attend to the mind, how can one know one’s nature? If one cannot yet clarify the mind, how can one perceive one’s nature? The key to clarifying and fully attending to the mind is to support it constantly with wholesome teachings, moisten it with red water, purify it through states, strengthen it through diligent effort, make it open and unburdened through patience, cleanse and illuminate it through awareness, make it clear and keen through wisdom, open it through the Buddha’s insight and understanding, and fill it with the Buddha’s vast, impartial realm.

Therefore, you should know that understanding your original mind is like finding an oar of wisdom amid the bitter sea of birth and death. Making every effort to observe and expand your original mind is like finding a skilled healer amid the illness of affliction. Without understanding your original mind, you will continue to drift through the cycle of rebirth and be unable to escape.